IO 
Annual Reports of Academy of 
fresh mind one looks upon a new and beautiful world. To the 
naturalist Hawaii has a further interest. It is the most isolated 
island group in the world. Over 2000 miles from America and 
Samoa, over 3000 from Japan, the fauna and flora of these islands 
have developed in their own way, little affected by the waves of 
life evolved on the continents and successively sweeping their 
predecessors out of existence. Birds, bats, insects and seeds which 
could be blown or float great distances could from time to time 
reach Hawaii. Creatures less capable of crossing the sea are either 
absent (mammals, amphibians) or are represented by ancient 
groups which here linger on beyond their time. The tree shells 
(. Achatinella ) belong to such a group, which long ago had its day 
on the continents and was then replaced by more highly organized 
snails. 
In Hawaii the tree shells are known to every schoolboy. They 
collect them as we used to collect birds’ eggs or stamps. The na¬ 
tive Hawaiians formerly strung them into wreaths. They call 
chem pupukaneoe, singing shells, claiming that they make a wild, 
entracing music in the forests. Achatinellas are glossy, jewel-like 
shells of many colors, green, brown, rose or gray, often banded, 
or pure white. Every ridge has its special species or patterns. 
When we were going for tree shells a start would be made the day 
before, camping at the limit of motor travel. Early next morning 
found us on the trail, headed for the ridge. As in the desert moun¬ 
tains of Arizona, the best shells are always on the highest ridges 
and peaks. Perhaps we will find them hanging on the bushes and 
trees by scores; it is like picking blackberries; but usually they are 
scarce and hard to see. On leaves, in crevices of the bark and 
knot-holes they stick, often ten or twenty feet high, indeed to the 
tree-tops. It is a climbing proposition. About the time we be¬ 
gin to find them it rains. This is not the “liquid sunshine” they 
talk about in Honolulu. It is a pour. After that you do not shy 
at puddles or wet foliage, knowing that the raiment can retain only 
so much water. 
Where there is no trail, progress is usually difficult in the moun¬ 
tain forest. There are places where the ieie (a climbing Pandanus) 
is so thick that it is easier to scramble over it, ten feet from the 
ground, than to crawl through in the mud. Dense fern patches 
are even worse to negotiate. But if you really want to see the na¬ 
tive birds, shells and insects, it is worth the trouble. 
