THROUGH HAWAII. 
357 
when Mr. Thurston and myself left Kapulena. Wishing 
to spend the Sabbath in the populous village of Waipio, 
we travelled fast along the narrow paths bordered with 
long grass, or through the well-cultivated plantations 
of the natives. The Sandwich Islanders have no idea 
of constructing their roads or foot-path in a straight line. 
In many parts, where the country was level and open, 
the paths from one village to another were not more 
than a foot wide, and very crooked. We often had 
occasion to notice this, but never passed over any 
so completely serpentine as those we travelled this 
evening. 
The sun had set when we reached the high cliff that 
formed the southern boundary of Waipio. Steep rocks, 
not less than five hundred feet high, rose immediately 
opposite. Viewed from the great elevation at which we 
stood, the charming valley, spread out beneath us like 
a map, with its numerous inhabitants, cottages, plan¬ 
tations, fish-ponds, and meandering streams, (on the 
surface of which the light canoe was moving to and 
fro,) appeared in beautiful miniature. Makoa led the 
way down the steep cliffs. The descent was difficult, 
and it was quite dark before we reached the bottom. 
A party of natives, returning from a fishing excursion, 
ferried us across the stream that ran along near the 
place where we descended, and we directed our steps 
towards the house of Haa, head man of the village. 
He received us courteously, ordered a clean mat to be 
spread for us to recline on, and water for us to drink ; 
some of his attendants also handed us a large wooden 
tobacco-pipe, which is usually passed round when 
strangers arrive; this last compliment, however, we 
begged leave to decline. Makoa seated himself by the 
