letter xxv.] A HAWAIIAN SHEEP STATION. 



233 



and a piece of raw meat, were hanging against the wall. A 

 tin bowl was brought to me for washing, which served the 

 same purpose for every one. The oil was exhausted, so re- 

 course was had to the native expedient of a jar of beef fat with 

 a wick in it. 



We were most hospitably received, but the native wife, as is 

 usually the case, was too shy to eat with us, or even to appear 

 at all. Our host is a superb young man, very frank and pre- 

 possessing looking, a thorough mountaineer, most expert with 

 the lasso and in hunting wild cattle. The " station " consists 

 of a wool shed, a low grass hut, a hut with one side gone, a 

 bell-tent, and the more substantial cabin in which we are lodged. 

 Several saddled horses were tethered outside, and some natives 

 were shearing sheep, but the fog shut out whatever else there 

 might be of an outer world. Every now and then a native came 

 in and sat on the floor to warm himself, but there were no mats 

 as in native houses. It was intolerably cold. I singed my 

 clothes by sitting in the chimney, but could not warm myself. 

 A fowl -was stewed native fashion, and some rice was boiled, 

 and we had sheep's milk and some*ice cold water, the drip, I 

 think, from a neighbouring cave, as running and standing water 

 are unknown. 



There are 9000 sheep here, but they require hardly any 

 attendance except at shearing time, and dogs are not used in 

 herding them. Indeed, labour is much dispensed with, as the 

 sheep are shorn unwashed, a great contrast to the elabo- 

 rate washings of the flocks of the Australian Riverina. They 

 come down at night of their own sagacity, in close converging 

 columns, sleep on the gravel about the station, and in the early 

 morning betake themselves to their feeding grounds on the 

 mountain. 



Mauna Kea, and the forests which skirt his base, are the 

 resort of thousands of wild cattle, and there are many men 

 nearly as wild, who live half savage lives in the woods, gaining 

 their living by lassoing and shooting these animals for their 

 skins. Wild black swine also abound. 



The mist as usual disappeared at night, leaving a sky won- 

 derful with stars, which burned blue and pale against the furnace 

 glare on the top of Mauna Loa, to which we are comparatively 

 near. I woke at three from the hopeless cold, and before five 

 went out with Mr. Green to explore the adjacent lava. The 

 atmosphere was perfectly pure, and suffused with rose-colour, 

 not a cloud-fleece hung round the mountain tops, hoar-frost 



