through  forests  and  across  mountain  streams,  until  at  last  we 
rode  down  into  the  wooded  basin  where  we  caught  the  first 
glimpse  of  our  tents  half  hidden  under  the  tall  lehuas.  It  was 
about  sunset,  and  a camp  fire  was  burning  under  a hot  supper, 
all  ready  for  the  tired,  hungry  riders.  Three  of  our  Kumuwela 
Club  had  come  up  to  camp  ten  days  earlier,  so  everything  was 
in  order  when  we  arrived. 
Here  were  the  three  tents  overshadowed  by  the  great  lehuas, 
still  brilliant  with  their  cardinal  blossoms.  No  lovelier,  more 
secluded,  or  restful  spot  could  have  been  found  for  a vacation 
camp. 
All  about  the  tents  were  ferns,  while  the  fragrant  made 
trailed  from  every  tree  and  bush,  and  beautiful  mosses  and 
lichens  covered  the  tree  trunks  and  stones.  Down  behind  the 
tents  ran  a clear  mountain  stream  between  fern  covered  banks. 
A narrow,  winding  path  led  to  a small  drinking  pool  near  a 
great  moss-covered  boulder.  Here  we  often  rested  in  the  cool 
shadows  to  watch  the  mirrored  picture  of  blue  sky,  shining 
between  overhanging  branches  and  tall  ferns.  As  we  returned 
with  dripping  pail  we  had  lovely  glimpses  of  the  tall  trees, 
tangled  ferns  and  the  stately  Lobelias  standing  like  great  green 
kahilis  along  the  banks.  A few  rods  below,  under  a sheltering 
cliff,  hidden  by  ferns  and  vines,  was  the  bathing  pool  where 
we  took  our  early  morning  dip,  sometimes  startling  the  lonely 
wood  duck  into  hurried  flight.  Here  we  loved  to  sit  on  sunny 
mornings  and  watch  the  bright  colored  dragon  flies  skimming 
over  the  pool  and  the  shrimps  playing  at  hide  and  seek  among 
the  pebbles,  or  listen  to  the  sweet  notes  of  the  Elepaio  and 
Akakani,  two  native  song  birds.  Near  this  pool  we  found 
land  shells  ornamented  with  delicate  golden  tracery,  while  in 
the  stream  below  were  beautiful  water  mosses  and  algae.  Still 
further  down  the  stream  is  a deeper  swimming  pool  just  be- 
low the  cascades,  where  the  overhanging  bank  is  covered  with 
maidenhair  fern,  pink  begonia  and  dripping  mosses. 
All  about  our  camp  were  poha  berries  and  nice  juicy  lilikois, 
(a  kind  of  water  lemon).  On  the  encircling  ridges  were  fra- 
grant mokihana  berries,  which  we  strung  into  leis  for  friends 
at  home. 
On  cool,  clear  nights  we  gathered  about  the  camp  fire,  lying 
on  our  blankets,  looking  up  through  the  branches  at  the  stars, 
singing  college  songs  or  telling  stories  of  pranks  and  experi- 
ences in  colleges  from  Nova  Scotia  to  California. 
At  last,  tired  and  sleepy,  we  went  to  our  tents  to  slumber 
on  our  beds  of  fragrant  fern  until  wakened  by  the  early  song 
birds  or  the  crowing  of  the  wild  cocks.  Sometimes  these  cocks 
called  up  the  Nimrod  campers,  who  shouldered  the  rifle  and 
stalked  the  wary  chickens  before  sunrise,  going  far  up  the 
canon  and  over  the  ridges  through  wet  grass  and  tangled 
bushes.  The  hunters  returned  with  shining  eyes  and  glowing 
