VALLEY OF WAIPIO. 355 
It was about five o’clock in the afternoon of the 
16th, when Mr. Thurston and myself left Kapu- 
lena. 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 food-path in a 
straight line. In many parts, where the country 
was level and open, the paths from one vil¬ 
lage to another were not more than a foot 
wide, and very crooked. We often had occa¬ 
sion 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, appeared in beauti¬ 
ful miniature. Its numerous inhabitants, cottages, 
plantations, fish-ponds, and meandering streams, 
with the light canoe moving to and fro on the sur¬ 
face of the latter, gave an air of animation to the 
scene, in which the distinct and varied objects 
were blended with the most delightful harmony. 
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, re¬ 
turning 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 
9 a 2 
