144 
FOREST and_stre:am. 
[Aug. 2S, lyuo. 
Since turning inland from the beach the road had been 
a straight causeway in the swamp, known as Tiger Bay, 
and the only thing to see was the taro, the cane and the 
banana — no shade for this whole stretch of race course, 
and no breeze, for the trade wind has never the force to 
make itself felt behind the coastal fringe of cocoarmts. 
But when the higher ground was reached, the character 
of the scene underwent a change — the swamp was left 
behind, the road now lay under the grateful shade of tall 
trees and between clumps of bushes loaded down with 
gorgeous blossoms. Samoan houses began to appear 
under the shade of the breadfruit trees, with then- great 
and jagged leaves, and around a bend in the road vve 
came upon the town green of Vaimoso, with its chief's 
orator standing in the shade to hail us with the never 
omitted Question, "Whither go ye?" and to propose that 
we alight and drink kava. But Talolo, whose delight it 
is to do all sorts of mannish things, replies in form that 
America and Britannia are out upon important affairs of 
state and cannot delay, but that some day we will return 
to see this lovely town of Vaimoso, and will talk wise 
politics with its chief. In studying Samoan it is not so 
much a question of grammar as- of learing to lie grace- 
fully. Ta'lolo was born that way. 
Beyond the village we began to ibreast the hill, and 
climbed and climbed over a broad road half overgrown 
with weeds, until we came upon the tew houses 
which make the little settlement of Lotopa, where a few 
settlers have cleared the bush and set out plantations of 
coffee. Here the government road stops short in a clump 
of bushes. Here also were the boat's crew in waiting 
with the supply of refreshments. There was the begin- 
ning of a mutiny when Samuel a and his outfit discovered 
that this was not to be an eating station, although he had 
gone to the trouble of gathering nuts and bananas and 
leaves for plates. But as it was only an hour from the 
Consulate, and as, in addition to wdiatever breakfast they 
may have had with their own families, each of the crew 
had consumed a pound-tin of corned beef, half a tin of 
salmon, unlimited cabin biscuits, and all the sugar soup 
or tea wanted, it was felt that they could manage to 
bear up for a little while longer. It was. not so much 
that they were individually hungry as that they were dis- 
posed to yield to the Samoan national hunger, which is 
invariably excited by the presence of food. 
At this end of the road a broken-down stone wall 
gave an opportunity to squeeze through^ the close clump 
of bushes, and then it was seen that there was a narrow 
trail behind. Here there was no tendency to gallop or 
scamper, for the trail is too narrow and too crowded with 
stones to permit of any relaxation of the attention. The 
path was cut up with the roots of the high trees, and 
every root in the soaking mold was a trap for the feet oi 
the unwary, for with the closest care one or other of the 
ponies would slip on such a root and then would follow 
a series of wild gymnastics which were the reverse of 
steadying to the rider, no matter how much they might 
tend to restore the equilibrium of the pony. Another 
forest danger was from the low-hanging branches and 
fi-om the lianas pendent from tree to tree. These fre- 
quently hung so low as to sweep a rider from the pony's 
back. -I had long since trained my boys when going 
ahead and encountering any such obstruction to give 
warning and to use the cry, "Low bridge." That seems 
plain enough for most people to know what to expect. 
But it bothered at least one of these young Englishmen. 
About five minutes after Sarauela had set up that shout 
for the first time, and it had passed back all along the 
line, we had stopped in a fairly smooth and open place 
for the duller members of the party to overtake us. One 
of the junior officers then said: "Do you know, I just 
made a most stupid error. All the Samoans shouted 
something that sounded almost exactly like 'low bridge,' 
and ever since I have been looking out for a bridge. But 
of course there wouldn't be any real bridges iii this_ 
jungle, and of course I was misled by the similarity of 
words in the two languages. But it was a droll blunder, 
now, wasn't it?" 
With the assistance of a diagram and a concise recapit- 
ulation of the history of the Erie Canal, I thought that I 
had made my explanation of the phrase sufficiently clear. 
"Yes, yes; I understand," my navy boy repHed. "When 
you say "low bridge,' that's only a figure of speech. But, 
don't you know, it's rather mLsleading. You see, you are 
looking out for a bridge that would be underfoot, and so 
you have no warning about the low branch overhead, 
don't you know; and then you are swept off the pony's 
back. Of course, it's only one of your ways, but you 
have so many odd ways, you Americans. The idea of 
calling a branch a bridge, it's most extraordinary." 
At last the trail through the damp depths of the forest 
led our party to the sound of dashing water, and we 
found ourselves in an open space which afforded grazing 
for the ponies. The sound of the falling water was plain, 
but no water was in sight. Struggling through the high 
grass of this small meadow— grass that measured more 
than 6 feet — we came to a jumping-off place, where a 
steep and wooded slope led down to a .small mountain 
stream, which was making noise enough for a river. 
Here we scrambled down the bank with the assistance of 
roots and projecting rocks and hanging vines, and at 
every step regretted that we were not monkeys. Once 
safely at the foot of the descent we were at the summit 
of the waterfall. 
So far as goes the geography of the unusual, there are 
but two such sliding rocks in the world — one in the 
Negri Sembilan region of the Malay Peninsula, the other 
in the bush at the back of Apia. They depend for their 
interest on the feature in common that a deep pool is 
overhung by a slant of rock, over which trickles a 
stream, and that by sitting in the stream at the top of the 
rock the swimmer may be phmged with high speed over 
the rocky surface and forced deep into the pool below. 
It is said in behalf of the Samoan Papase'ea that the slide 
is longer and steeper, the plunge more rapid, and the 
"submersion in the pool deeper than in the Malayan ex- 
araple. , . , 
This waterfall in the Samoan bush is, m fact, triple. 
The lower cascade has only about 5 or 6 feet of fall, and 
the basin at the foot is shallow. The middle one of the 
scries has a fall of no more than a dozen feet, and the 
basin is only slightly deeper than the one below. The 
upper cascade fails 30 feet, and the basin is so deep that 
the swimmer coming over the fall does not touch bot- 
tom at the end pf the pkmge, although his velocity is 
excessive. The Samoans call these respectively ihe 
swimming places for children, for women and for men. 
It is to the latter only that the name of Papase'ea prop- 
erly applies; and very few travelers ever think of looking 
at "the lower cascades of the series. 
The breakneck trail down the hill slope lands us in a 
leafy amphitheater, where stepping stones enable us to 
cross and recross the stream, while overhead the branches 
mix and meet to form a grateful shade. The lower side 
of this bowl in the valley is marked by a dike of vol- 
canic rocks, worn smooth by the coursing waters, which 
pour along in an ungovernable torrent when there are 
storms in the hills. The upper ring is filled with a pool 
some 6 feet in depth and bounded by the smooth rocks 
and the trunks of tall trees. Into this pool flow several 
rills, which trickle at ordinary stages of the water from 
several slopes of the hillside. It is probable that these 
rills are all parts of the same stream which has been 
split up by obstacles above. Nothing at all is known 
about the stream higher up in the mountains, for its bed 
is quite impracticable for travel — what with the rocks in 
one place and the fathomless bogs in another and always 
the dense tangle of low-lying branches and interlacing 
lianas. And it" the explorer comes upon a stream higher 
up in some clear place, it is impossible to identify it as the 
Papase'ea stream, for there are so many brooks on the 
Samoan mountains that one cannot be safely distin- 
guished from another. It is probable that the stream is 
one of those which drain the central morass on the 
Tuasivi, for its waters are so cold as to point to a 
soi.trce at a high altitude. Wherever these w-aters come 
from, they all collect in the pool. 
This re'servoir serves as a pressure regulator for the 
falls. After the heavy rains the stream is a raging 
mountain torrent, into Avhich it would be suicide to 
plunge, as any one can see who will watch the force with 
which it tears out trees and great blocks of rock from the 
banks. But at ordinary stages, when there has been no 
storm in the higher altitudes, the water scarcely trickles 
over the portion of the volcanic dike which constitutes 
the sliding rock. 
The first 3 or 4 feet of this dike are nearly level, and., 
owing to the wearing oi the frequent floods as smooth a.s 
so much glass. The water trickles in a narrow channel 
worn but a few inches below the common level. The 
next 40 feet pitch downward at a sharp angle of the same 
glassy smoothness. Then the rock breaks off abruptly 
about 10 feet above the surface of the water in the lower 
basin. This lower pool has been excavated by the floods 
to a depth of more than 30 feet, and has nearly vertical 
sides, so that there is only one small area of shallow 
water near the lower outlet. A geologist would prob- 
baly class it as a large pot hole with a diameter of about 
40 feet. Into this pool the length of the slide is about 
50 feet, the last 10 of which are in the air, the slide along 
the rock being some 40 feet of length, with a vertical 
descent before reaching the final plunge. 
When the water in the stream is low — that is, in gen- 
eral, when it is safe to essay the slide — there is not 
enough water going over the dike at the right spot to 
make it advisable to slide, for much escapes over other 
channels, and those channels are so filled with rugged 
rocks as to discourage any travel which involves the 
principles of sliding friction. But by damming the other 
outlets the water held in reserve in the upper pool can be 
concentrated until its whole volume passes over the 
smooth channel in the dike, where it can make the 
sheerest plunge to the basin below. When thus gathered 
the stream is about 3 feet wide at the brink of the fall 
and 2 inches deep. 
Capt. Rason was still more than ever disinclined to 
engage in such sport after he had looked the ground 
over and had measured the depth with his finger. He 
took refuge in the science of hydraulics and proved to his 
own satisfaction that the slide could not be made in 2 
inches of water without damage some how. 
Meanwhile the others of the party were going to see 
the thing through without regard for mathematics at all. 
One of the Samoan girls undertook to carry one of the 
young lieutenants over the rock just to show how. 
Down in the stream she sat and instructed him to sit 
behind her. The attitude was just the same as in coast- 
ing on a double-runner sled in the lands where there is 
snow. The principal point to be observed is that the 
lieutenant shall look steadfastly over the girl's left 
shoulder while she wears her head to the right, for if the- 
two heads should come together when they strike the 
water in the basin it might do damage. Having received 
all the necessary instructions, the pair inched along the 
rock until the full force of the stream caught them. Then 
tliey went at breathless speed on the surface of the falling 
cascade down to the final flight through the air, and 
were submerged in the basin at the foot. 
The Captain, being in no restricted sense responsible 
to the Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty for the 
well-being of the officers committed to his care, watched 
the flight wnth anxiety, which was not relieved until he 
saw his officer climb out of the basin in good order and 
start to clamber tip the face of the rock. Then, con- 
vinced that the impossible was the easiest sort of thing 
if only you saw how it was done, the good Captain 
hastened to be the next to go over. Declining all aid, 
he sat in the stream, but he was too eager in hitching 
himself forward to the place where the current over- 
comes gravity. The force of the water took him broad- 
side, and before he could correct his position he was sent 
rolling as well as sliding. Thus he came to the final 
flight head downward and made a magnificent dive into 
the basin. Thenceforward for an hour or more there was 
a steady succession of dripping humanity, Samoan and 
European each awaiting the turn to go over the rock. 
Only one anxiety tended to mar the enjoyment — an 
anxiety voiced By my young Talolo between plunges 
when he asked, "Bimeby I think so we eat for you, for 
me?" Reasured on that point, Talolo subsided, and the 
fun went on. 
The last plunge was the most daring of all. The 
engineer officer undertook to walk down the slope in the 
water. He explained that he was sure it was not as dan- 
gerous as we might think it, for the whole of his weight 
would tend to keep him on the rock, and the only pur- 
chase the water would have on him would be his ankles. 
He did walk steadily down the slope in the swirling 
water for at least 20 out of the 40 feet of the slide. Then, 
as the current was carrying his feet out from under him. 
he gave a jump forward and apparently intS the Hasirtj, 
But he said— and it Is more probable — that he landed on 
hi,s feet lower down the slope and took a second jump 
thence into the basin. Such a thing had tieVei' been 
heard of before at the sliding rock, and the Samoan wit- 
nesses may be counted on to put this record slide into 
their traditions. 
But sunset was fast approaching, and no Samoan is 
really comfortable in the bush after dark. As soon as we 
reached the Lotopa road again the sunset and then the 
ride home was made in brilliant moonlight. 
Llewella Pierce Churchill. - 
One Day in a Sonora Gamp, 
I HAD a very strong impression that w'e ought to move 
camp. Our surroundings were pictui'esque; there was 
abundance of feed for our horses; wood and water were 
right at hand; it was only seven miles to a base of sup- 
plies, but . The but meant that the drj' bed of a river 
at the commencement of the rainy season is an excellent 
place to leave. So we went about ten miles up the Santa 
Cruz, where the little caiion terraced back from the 
springs that are the source of the river, and on a shaded 
platform some 8 feet above the stream we pitched our 
tents. E.xpecting to be here for at least two weeks, the 
ground was leveled off in front of our principal street, 
and our artist even went so far as to bring agaves and 
cactus from the adjacent hills and lay out parterre after 
parterre in the howling wilderness — a wilderness it was 
indeed, but no desert. Ash, sycamore, walnut and willow 
shaded us. Festooned over these were gigantic creepers. 
Gaudily colored birds with harsh voices chattered from 
branch to branch, and large squirrels, similar to our 
eastern fox squirrel, offered tempting marks for our .22s. 
We knew that w-e should have plenty of sport in the 
quail, partridge and pigeon line, but Ave were not calcu- 
lating on any large game for at least a four days' 
journey. Then we expected to find numbers of antelope, 
bears, lions, besides very good fishing in the Yaqui River. 
So on this particular July afternoon when Q. and Will 
came in from taking the horses some four miles away 
to pasture, and reported that they had seen a. couple of 
brown bears and had probably wounded one, and that 
fresh deer signs were to be found within 150 yards of 
camp, we were undecided whetlier to give them the horse 
laugh or to be filled with unwonted enthusiasm. I had 
seen deer tracks up the canon only the week before, so 
I knew that deer were somewhere in the country, but 
the bear proposition I took no stock in. Nevertheless a 
hunting party was made up and started out at daylight 
for whatever luck might throw in their way. 
A dozen birds that were waiting to be classified and 
skinned and a press full of plants that needed changing 
stood between me and the trip. Furthermore, I knew 
that a twenty-five-mile tramp and lying out for a night 
or two would be on the programme for the boys, and I 
had no desire to risk either the time or strength on any 
such uncertainties, I worked patiently hour after hour 
until my stomach indicated the approach of , noon. Then 
I was interrupted by a quick step, some more birds were 
throwm upon my work bench, and Van, breathless from 
running, asked: 
"Say, do you know anything about bee trees?" 
"So far as reading Thoreau and Burroughs and Forest 
AND Stream, and listening to John Muir expatiate on bee 
trees in Yosemite, I am pretty well posted, but I've never 
had any practical experience in the matter. Why?" 
"Oh, I think I've got a bee tree doAvn here — not a 
very big one, and it may not be a bee tree at all, but I 
think it's worth looking into." 
It did not take many minutes for those of us who were 
left in camp to hit the trail down cation. The first who 
started was armed with a pint cup and a teaspoon. The 
rest were somewhat better prepared for the work before 
them. Twenty minutes later we turned out of the gorge 
into the rolling grassland, where rocks are covered with 
maiden-hair fern and, making rare patterns in the green, 
an oxalis is found strikingly like the wood sorrel of the 
New England mountains. Not was this all, for the 
fragrance of the jasmine was wafted to me for the first 
time, and I felt that violet, orange blossom, magnolia 
or any other perfume was not to be compared with the 
odor that now filled the air. I wanted my botany press, 
but before I could make up my mind to return for it the 
tree that we had come to examine was located. 
It was indeed a very small oak, the trunk proper being 
only some 5 feet in height. Near the top_ of the trunk 
was just such a hole as a high-holder back in the Eastern 
States would have pre-empted for a nest A very few 
bees were passing in and out of this very small hole in 
the very small tree. I began to think that the pint cup and 
teaspoon would hold more honey than we could possibly 
get. Fortunately for the rest of u,s, Van had faith, and 
believed that faith without works is dead. So he encased 
his head in a mosquito-proof helmet, put on his gloves 
and commenced to chop into the tree about a foot below 
the hole. The music of a circular saw in a country saw- 
mill was just about duplicated in the heart of_ that old 
oak. It was a gentle, suppressed rumble at first, with 
a gradual crescendo, until the saw seemed to be making 
250 revolutions a minute. Then came the shrill wail of 
agony that indicates that a knot has been struck, and out 
of the hole the bees poured — big and little, young and 
old, but each especially desirous at that particular time 
to make use of his business end. 
When the excitement had somewhat subsided and from 
a safe distance the rest of us saw Van standing as still 
as a statue, his helmet covered with bees, we held a little 
coimcil of war and determined to try the effects of a 
smudge. A fire was kindled about three rods away, and 
under cover of the dense smoke that arose from the damp 
oak leaves we pushed it nearer and nearer, until thi.' 
bee song ceased and Van was able to resume work with 
the axe. Before the tenth stroke a thin streak of sweet- 
ness came out with the blade and commenced to drip in 
golden lines down the rough brown bark. Two vertical 
blows and a section of bark was split off, exposing the 
mass of comb that filled the central cavity. This filled 
tw© large pails, and then a second hole was chopped 
near the ground, a second* section was split off, ancl oui^ 
hard work was done. 
We forgot the pigeon potpie. and the squirrel stew that 
had beeii simmering over the fire for three or four 
