240 



HA WAIL 



[letter xxvi, 



had secured on the road, I took my own meal as a spectacle. 

 Two old crones seized on my ankles, murmuring fomi, lomi, 

 and subjected them to the native process of shampooing.; 

 They had unrestrained curiosity as to the beginning and end of: 

 my journey. I said " Waimea, Hamakua" when they all! 

 chorused, "Maikai;" for a ride of forty miles was not bad* 

 for a wahine /mole. I said, " Wai Ho." (water for the horse), 

 when they signified that there was only some brackish stuff! 

 unfit for drinking. 



In spite of the garrulous assemblage, I was asleep before 1 

 eight, and never woke till I found myself in a blaze of sunshine i 

 this morning, and in perfect solitude. I got myself some 

 breakfast, and then looked about the village for some inhabit- : 

 ants, but found none, except an unhappy Portuguese with one j 

 leg, and an old man who looked like a leper, to whom I said : 

 " Ko" (cane) " Ho" (horse), exhibiting a rial at the same ! 

 time, on which he cut me a large bundle, and I sat on a stone 

 and watched Kahele as he munched it for an hour and a 

 half. 



It was very hot and serene down there between those palis 

 700 and 800 feet high. The huts of the village were all shut, j 

 and not a creature stirred. The palms above my head looked \ 

 as if they had always been old, and there was no movement I 

 among their golden plumes. The sea itself rolled shorewards 

 more silently and lazily than usual. An old dog slept in the 

 sunshine, and whenever I moved, by a great effort, opened one 

 eye. The man who cut the cane fell asleep on the grass. I 

 Kahele ate as slowly as if he had resolved to try my patience, 

 and be revenged on me for my conquest of him yesterday, and 

 his heavy munching was the only vital sound. I got up and 1 

 walked about to assure myself that I was awake, saddled and 

 bridled the horse, and mounted the great southward palz, 

 thankful to reach the breeze and the upper air in full possession 

 of my faculties, after the torpor and paralysis of the valley 

 below. 



Never were waters so bright or stretches of upland lawns so 

 joyous as to-day, or the forest entanglements so entrancing. 

 The beautiful Engeiiia malaccensis is now in full blossom, and 

 its stems and branches are blazing in all the gulches, with ' 

 bunches of rose-crimson stamens borne on short spikelets. 



