CHAPTER 10

Hawaii

Larger than all the other Islands together, the youngest geologically, Hawaii consists of three huge, gently rising mountains, connected by a high plateau. Except at the northern end, therefore, where the Kohala Range juts out from the mass of the Island, the scenery is of a very different character from that of the islands to the northwest, comparing in general outlines only to the vast eastern end of Maui. The Island, a little smaller than the State of Connecticut, and distinctly larger than Porto Rico, covers 4,015 square miles. As the three great mountains, Mauna Kea, Mauna Loa, and Hualalai, rise, respectively, 13,825 feet, 13,675 feet, and 8,269 feet, the climate ranges from sultry tropical heat near the shore (notably in the district of Puna) through all gradations of temperature to what is nearly perpetual snow. In winter the snow comes well down the two higher mountains; in summer it is permanent only in sheltered nooks near their summits. The Island has a population of 55,382, and settlements are numerous in all parts except in the southeast and on the upland plains.

There are two ways of reaching Hawaii from Honolulu—either by steamers of the Inter-Island Steamship Company to Hilo, or to the Kona and Kau ports on the lee side of the Island; or by the larger ships of the Matson Navigation Company, which ply between San Francisco and Honolulu, making a side trip to Hawaii about twice a month. The Inter-Island boats sail twice a week to Hilo and once a week to Kona and Kau, and are, therefore, more likely to fit conveniently into the traveller's itinerary.

Steamers for Hilo usually touch first in Hawaii at Kawaihae, near the northern part of the west coast, a forlorn village, barren, windswept, so dusty that it is often unpleasant, because of the dust in the air, to stand on the deck toward the shore, even though the steamer lies a half-mile from the landing. But sometimes in the early morning or late afternoon the view of two of the great mountains is magnificent —Mauna Kea thrusting its snow-capped peak over the red plains, and nearer the barren mass of Hualalai scarred with black lava flows, its green base blotched with the darker shade of shrubbery and low trees. Mahukona, a few miles to the north, the landing for Kohala, is equally barren, and with its dingy warehouses looks even more dreary than do the red plains back of Kawaihae. A short railroad runs from this landing to Kohala, but the steamers do not now stop long enough for passengers to make the trip. Except in the rare southwesterly or westerly storms, these landings are always smooth. The wind from the land seems sometimes to blow even the ripples from the surface of the sea. It is a short relief, however, as the steamer proceeds immediately around the north point of the Island and along the windward coast, where the water is usually boisterous. Here the scenery is very wonderful. Waipio Valley with its broad mouth and its precipitous sides, and the other valleys near it almost as impressive, is succeeded by cliffs reaching in a line, broken only by the gulches, for forty miles. These cliffs rising directly from the sea are covered with verdure, and over them at short intervals tumble lovely waterfalls. Behind them is the pale green carpet of sugar cane stretching back to the forest belt, that in its turn gives place to the bare uplands which are dominated by the snowy crest of Mauna Kea. The cliffs give way only when the ship reaches Hilo Bay—Hilo, or the " new moon," so called from the long crescent of the bay. The Inter-Island steamers go to a dock, and larger vessels anchor outside in calm water, which assures an easy landing in small boats. New docks at present building will give berths for all steamers.

Hilo Bay and town, Mauna Kea, 14,000 feet high, in the background

Hilo, the chief city of Hawaii, is a town of about 7,000 inhabitants. It is the distributing centre for the districts of Hilo and Puna. From here the sugar produced along the coast is sent direct to San Francisco and New York. Beautifully situated on its broad, smooth bay, with the two superb mountains of Mauna Loa and Mauna Kea as background, with a richness of tropical vegetation unknown in Honolulu, it deserves a longer visit than the two or three hours usually given to it. People who are jealous of Hilo say that it rains there eight days in the week and five weeks in the month, and indeed there are never many successive clear days. But as compensation there is little dust in Hilo, and the variety and luxuriance of foliage and flowers are a delight. The old white court-house, almost hidden in a grove of huge trees, is wonderfully picturesque. Private houses are almost invisible behind their crowded gardens. There is a charming park where band concerts are often held, but for recreation people go to Cocoanut Island in the bay. On its rocky shores the surf-bathing is wonderful, and one dives into the water and swims about under the cocoanut trees that seem to stretch out over the water to get breathing space, so crowded is the little island. A mile back from the town Rainbow Fall breaks from a mass of trees and ferns to fall eighty feet into a dark cave pool, from which it rushes, in foam and spray, between high, rocky walls that are always draped with morning-glories. It is almost a miniature replica of the great fall at Tivoli. In the sunshine it seems literally garlanded with rainbows. Another drive, of six miles, northward along the coast, takes one through cane fields and clumps of gleaming vegetation in the valley bottoms to the Onomea Arch, a perfect natural archway under a cliff, through which the waves dash perpetually. Four miles back from Hilo, into the edges of the great forest belt, is the Kaumana Cave, a tube extending for miles under an old lava flow. The stalactites and stalagmites, the folds of rock that look like crumpled velvet, the tree roots pushing downward through the rock in their work of breaking up the solid lava, the brilliant colours where the water has filtered through, the streaks of iridiscent enamel on the cave sides—all make it intensely interesting. In the town itself the Hilo Boarding School, where Hawaiian boys are given manual training, where experiments are made in the treatment of different native woods, is well worth an hour's visit. It is even more interesting as being the school on which General Armstrong modelled Hampton Institute in Virginia. These things are all accessible by carriage, all should be seen, and all cannot be seen if Hilo is considered merely as a stopping place on the road to the Volcano.

This is usually the case, since the tourist goes normally to Hawaii only to see Kilauea. Now that a macadamised road has been constructed around the Island the man who has the time ought to make the circuit. It is as varied in scenery as is the short one-day trip around Oahu, but the variety is totally different—one might be in another part of the world. To the amateur geologist it is usually a new experience to be on an island that is in the making; to the botanist an endless field of exploration is open; to the student of agriculture there is opportunity to study the cultivation or possibilities for cultivation of most crops of the tropics and temperate zones; and for the mere sightseer there are snow-capped mountains, tangled tropical forests, deserts, ancient and recent lava flows, wild canons, hundreds of waterfalls, serene upland pastures, quaint vestiges of primitive Hawaiian life. Hilo, where automobiles and carriages can most readily be hired, is the natural starting point for the excursion. Dust coats, rain coats, and heavy wraps should be provided, as one is likely to encounter all kinds of weather. The roadside inns are simple, but everywhere one can find clean, comfortable quarters, and decent food at moderate prices, and everywhere people are hospitable.

Scene at Onomea on east coast of Hawai`i

The start from Hilo, even if one is going direct to the Volcano, should be made before luncheon. The distance is only a little over thirty miles, but to hurry is to miss half the charm of the ride. The road immediately after leaving Hilo crosses the Waiakea River, here a lazy stream winding its slow way to the ocean between banks overgrown with bamboo and oleanders and bananas. The road then begins to wind upward through fields of cane, past a queer little forest of hala trees or screw pines, through cane fields again, of the Olaa Plantation, and so into the district of Puna, that eastward near the coast is the warmest and wettest part of the Islands. The forest has been cleared away to make room for cane, but vestiges of it still remain, a few splendid scattered trees that seem now like outposts of the great forest which raises its high blue walls beyond the plantation fields. If the day is clear the far distant summits of Mauna Kea and Mauna Loa appear and disappear behind the nearer hills. Nine miles from Hilo at the Olaa Mill a road turns to the southeast from the main highway and makes an interesting side trip through the Puna district. (A branch line of the Hilo Railroad taps the same region.) Of interesting sights on this branch road may be mentioned the warm spring at Kapoho, which makes a pool some 60 feet long, 30 feet wide, and 25 feet deep in a cleft of lava rock, and in which the clear, buoyant water is always at blood heat. In the forest near at hand are many interesting lava casts. The liquid lava years ago piled up around the trunks of trees, hardened before the trees were burned away, and were left standing as gigantic vases in which now are growing ferns and shrubs and sometimes small trees. A long section of the Puna coast has evidently sunk, as there are dead stumps of cocoanut trees rising from the water. Along the coast in several places are strewn great boulders, which were thrown up by the tidal wave of 1868. Near Kapoho also is Green Lake, a lovely pond in a volcanic cone, where the limpid water is always emerald in colour. It is circled with forests of palms and shrubbery, among which can be found in great abundance the exquisite pink begonia, which is indigenous to Hawaii, but which is unfortunately found in very few places. Not far away is the ancient heiau, or temple of Wahaula, one of the most important of Hawaiian temples. In the Bishop Museum in Honolulu is a miniature model of this temple as it would look were it completely restored. The only industry of the region of particular interest is the saw-mill, where huge chia trees are cut into railroad ties to be sent to America. A peculiarity of the wood is that it is very hard, becoming with age so impenetrable that it is impossible even to drive a nail.

Starting again from the Olaa Mill the road to the Volcano House soon enters the forest, and rises in a gentle grade, sometimes for miles in a straight line between the giant trees. At places the forest on either side is practically impenetrable, assuming the character of a real tropical jungle, but of course without snakes or wild animals. The trees are close together, and clinging to them are vines—water-lemon vines with their juicy yellow or purple fruit that is very good to eat, fantastic vines, with huge shining leaves or whorls of tough, hairy spines, vines interlaced from tree to tree, forming the closest of screens. Ferns of all kinds mat the ground, and springing from them, forcing themselves between underbrush and vines, the tree ferns reach their graceful fronds thirty feet into the air. Masses of Hawaiian raspberries with fruit as large as plums, but almost tasteless, and of thimble-berries, with their spicy scarlet fruit, tumble over the embankment on either side of the road, '^t intervals deep rectangles have been cut into the forest and planted with coffee or bananas or other fruits. Through the natural hedges in front of these clearings one catches glimpses of picturesque cottages overgrown with vines and reached from the road on paths made of the rough, springy trunks of tree ferns laid close together. There was once a rush to the Olaa region. Bits of forest were cleared with immense labour in order to plant coffee, but the climate has been found not to develop the best quality of berry, and so many of the cottages then built are now used by residents of Hilo as summer houses or as week-end retreats. The railroad, which most people take in going to the Volcano, ends at the twenty-third mile, and its passengers are transferred to a motor omnibus for the rest of the trip. After about the twenty-fifth mile post the trees begin to dwarf a little; open spaces with only a low scrub growth like heather become more and more frequent. There are still occasional clumps of ancient koa trees with their crescent-shaped leaves and their mighty trunks, but the fan palms, of which there are many in the lower forests, have disappeared. In places the ground is covered with stag-horn fern, a coarse brake, stiff and impenetrable, which needs very little soil, and which is gradually covering geologically recent lava flows, and with its strong roots is breaking them up, thus accomplishing the first step in the progress of disintegration. There is rock everywhere, scattered stones, and bits of old flows protruding from the ground. The air becomes much cooler, as the road has ascended nearly 4,000 feet. Sometimes one gets a whiff of sulphur or sees a faint wisp of steam hanging over a clump of ferns, but there is no other indication of the nearness of an active volcano. Then the road turns sharply to the right and in a few minutes swings in through beds of brilliant flowers to the door of the Volcano House on the brink of the great crater of Kilauea.

The Volcano and the surrounding country, which are too important to be merely incidental to a trip around Hawaii, are described in the next chapter.

In continuing the circuit of the Island, the road leads around the western, highest wall of the crater, at first straight toward the stupendous dome of Mauna Loa, its broad, rounded summit seemingly a short three or four miles away in the clear morning air, whereas it is in reality twenty five miles as the bird flies. The ascent, moreover, although gradual, is very difficult, owing to deep cracks in the rock and to the roughness of the lava flows, a roughness compared to which irregularities in the surface of the most twisted glaciers are hardly more than the rifts in children's sand piles. Turning almost immediately to the southward, the road enters a barren stretch of country called the Kau Desert. It is made up of lava flows, one on top of another, some very recent, and what little soil there is, is probably poisoned by the clouds of sulphurous smoke blown across it from the Volcano. This desert reaches to the sea, since many of the flows, notably that of 1868, broke out only a few miles from shore and fell over the low cliffs into the water. Like all deserts, this of Kau has its fascination, but it is quite different from others, since its predominating colours are black and grey and blue, unlike the sage green and brown of Arizona or the gold and pink of North Africa. Beyond the desert the road passes through a rich grazing country, and then once more through sugar plantations where the cane is carried to the mill in flumes, sufficient water being obtained by driving shafts high on the mountain side. This region has not the great forests of the windward slopes as a background. Instead there is always the impressive upward swing of the bare land, green and brown except where distant lava flows look like sharp black shadows streaking the higher reaches of Mauna Loa. One is usually impressed in the Islands with the smallness of it all, with the nearness of the encompassing ocean. In Kau there is none of this feeling. The majesty of the great mountain meets and equalises the majesty of the sea, which here takes its place as a beautiful frame, without encroaching on the picture itself. After passing Pahala, one of the largest and best plantations in the district, and the one which plants cane at higher levels than any other, the road drops down to the shore at Honuapo, a picturesque village which is the landing place for those who choose to reach the Volcano from the leeward side of the Island, going to the Volcano House by stage and then by continuing to Hilo not retracing their steps. Honuapo is the principal seaport of the district of Kau, which district, in spite of its lack of valleys and therefore of running streams, and in spite of its immense lava-covered areas, still supports two flourishing plantations and is an excellent grazing country. In olden times it had a large native population living principally near the shore, who, by tapping underground rivers, obtained abundance of good water. The district is rich in Hawaiian folk-lore.

Turning due west from Honuapo, thus avoiding the long south point of the Island, the road makes a long four-mile ascent to Waiohinu, which appears suddenly, a village surrounded with splendid trees and overgrown with rich vegetation—a startling contrast after the endless, dry reaches of Kau. This village is the seat of government for the district, and besides two churches, a court house, and jail, has a thoroughly comfortable inn. Through the village runs the only stream in a stretch of 150 miles along the coast. Still proceeding westward, the road climbs in long curves and loops to an altitude of about 2,000 feet and then crosses another twenty miles of wild and desolate country, devastated by three great eruptions from Mauna Loa. In the short intervals between the flows a sparse forest growth has held its own, and everywhere growing in the crannies of the lava are ferns, wild flowers, and morning-glories.

The district of Kona is reached before passing out of this region of lava flows, the last of which to the westward is the glistening new flow of 1907. On reaching Kona one cannot help feeling a change in the atmosphere that seems to produce a change in the whole aspect of the country. It is commonly said that the trade winds make the climate of the Islands, yet in Kona the trade winds do not blow, and there the climate is perhaps pleasanter than anywhere else. The coastline runs north and south, but to the east the mass of Mauna Loa and to the north the dome of Hualalai cut off the passage of the winds. Instead of the trades, therefore, a gentle west wind blows in all day from the sea, piling its moisture in a bank of clouds against the high lands to the east. As this bank spreads seaward, following the sun, there are often showers in the late afternoon or night. Always toward sundown the sea breeze dies away, and in its place springs up a breeze from the mountain, cold and refreshing, which blows all night. With such a climate Kona might be called almost abnormally healthful, and there is an old Hawaiian saying that "in the district people never die; they dry up and blow away."

Kona, the soil of which is made up entirely of decomposed lava flows, is very hilly, but without gulches or streams. On account of its regular rainfall, it is one of the richest and most productive in Hawaii. Near the shore there is a narrow strip of very dry land, bordered by an abrupt slope, above which are the upland plains, cool, bracing, and plentifully watered. Along these uplands, two miles or more from the shore, runs the main road, with branches down to the landings. Everything grows here, even though the land appears in places to be only a mass of loose rock. Agriculturally the difficulty lies in expense of transportation and distance from a market, which makes the raising of perishable crops unprofitable. The chief industry is the raising of coffee, the best in the Island coming from Kona, and the fields of neat little trees, dressed in their dark, shining green leaves, or in a mantle of snow-white blossoms, or studded with carmine berries, are always wonderfully attractive. There are fields, too, of pineapples, of sisal on the dry coast. Vanilla twines around the trunks of trees. Tobacco has lately been planted, and the flourishing plantations, which produce a very superior quality of leaf, give every promise of success. A rocky country it is, but radiant with a very varied vegetation; beautiful with the great, misty slopes of Mauna Loa to the east, and of Hualalai, not so high, but appearing so because it is steeper, to the north.

Kona abounds also in places of interest. At Honaunau are the remains of an ancient city of refuge occupying the six or seven acres of a low lava point on the south side of the bay. The walls, of which those on the south and east are almost intact, are about twelve feet high and eighteen feet thick. One temple stood on a platform of rock facing the bay, and below it was another and larger temple, parts of which, including two sacrificial altar stones, still remain. This is one of the most famous of the Hawaiian ruins. It is comparatively well preserved, and is impressive in its surroundings as well as for its size and history. Many thousands would hardly equal the number of those who must have been saved from death by its protecting walls in the centuries that have gone. A few miles further up the coast is Napoopoo, where Captain Cook landed and traded with the natives, and across the bay is Kaawaloa, where he was killed. Here, among the cocoanut trees near the shore, where it can be seen from passing vessels, has been put up a plain shaft of concrete bearing the following inscription: " In Memory of the Great Circumnavigator Captain James Cook, R. N., who discovered these islands on the 18th of January, a. d. 1778, and fell near this spot on the 14th of February, a. d. 1779. This monument was erected in November, a. d. 1874, by some of his fellow countrymen." A few miles north of here on the beach road is the famous battle-field of Kekuaokalani, where, after the ancient religion was abolished, certain rebels under a chieftain fought to restore the gods. They were decisively beaten by Kamehameha II, with whom were the high priest of the old religion and many of the more enlightened chiefs. The drive of eighteen miles along the main road from Napoopoo northward to Kailua has the reputation of being one of the finest in the Territory. One rapidly approaches Hualalai, and Mauna Loa, as it recedes, seems to loom up higher than ever. The road is well above the sea, so that the horizon is distant, the boundary of a great mirror of placid blue water. At Keauhou, a little more than halfway, there is a splendidly preserved stone slide down a steep hillside —the best relic remaining of the popular ancient Hawaiian sport of coasting. Extending all through the district is an old stone wall, built by enforced labour on command of the chiefs to exclude animals from the agricultural lands on the higher levels. Kailua itself, the chief landing for north Kona, is a village on the seashore. Its most striking feature is a large stone church built in 1835, when the surrounding country was thickly populated. Here also is a square, plain, wooden building surrounded with broad verandas—the old palace of the kings. Kailua is hot but attractive with its cocoanuts and groves of other trees, and if a steamer happens to be off port it is always interesting to watch cattle being embarked. They are tied by their horns to the outer sides of a rowboat and so half-dragged, half-swimming, are carried out to the ship, where they are hoisted to the decks with pulleys. It is a method which might well appear primitive to those accustomed to the operations of the Chicago Stock Yards. Near Kailua, and indeed all through this region, one sees the quaint old grass houses, relics of a hundred years ago, that are even now occasionally built in the old style.

From Kailua the road skirts the west slope of Hualalai. The mountain rises gently at first, but ends in a steep incline, which makes the ascent difficult. There is a small crater at the top, but no volcanic activity has occurred since 1901, when a lava flow broke out on the lower slopes a few miles north of Kailua. Kamehameha threw a lock of his hair into the lava to appease the wrath of Pele. On the sides of the mountain are several yawning pits, the vents of ancient lava streams. Except on the north side, which is nearly bare, the slopes are thinly wooded, among the trees being clumps of the cheromoya, or custard apple, a delicious tropical fruit with a rich and yet very delicate flavour. It is unknown in commerce because it does not keep after picking. Through an excellent ranching country and through growths of indigenous Hawaiian trees the road winds its way, turning northward about ten miles from Kailua and striking across country toward Waimea in the district of Kohala. On the northerly slope of Hualalai the road crosses a lava flow so old that there is no tradition of its bursting out, and yet it looks as fresh, the folds of lava as polished, as though it had hardly cooled. In many respects it is the most interesting of all Hawaiian flows, presenting impressive evidences of tremendous force and power. A few miles north of Hualalai, where the road again strikes the vast slopes of Mauna Loa, here fifty miles or more distant from the summit, the great flow of the eruption of 1859 is crossed. This flow broke out near the mountain top, and for months pressed on steadily toward the sea, destroyed finally the fishing village of Kiholo, filled completely the greatest and most celebrated of Hawaiian fish ponds, and before it ceased pushed out into the sea a rocky point of several hundred acres.

Waimea lies 2,669 feet above sea level on the plateau between Mauna Kea and the Kohala Mountains. It is eleven miles from the seaport of Kawaihae to the west, and seventeen miles from the Honokaa Landing directly east in the district of Hamakua. Mails and passengers for this district are usually landed on the west coast and carried overland, since on the Hamakua coast there are no harbours and the landings, disagreeable enough at any time, are impossible in rough weather. The side trip from Waimea to the desolate west coast is hardly worth taking, as the road descends through grazing lands similar to those in the direction of Kona, and there are neither lava flows nor forests to relieve the monotony. The only thing of interest at Kawaihae is a heiau, or temple, built by Kamehameha in 1791. This was one of the largest of the heiaus, and is far less ruined than are most. With Waimea as a centre the side trip to the north, on the contrary, is well worth the extra day or two which must be devoted to it. The town of Kohala is the centre of population for the district and is the seat of the district court. It is prettily situated, and has an unusually large percentage of white people as well as a large Chinese population. Near here Kamehameha was born, and here he spent the last years of his life, so the original of his statue in Honolulu stands appropriately in the town. There is here an excellent girls' industrial school, similar in its purpose to the boys' school in Hilo. Kohala is also at the centre of an extensive and long-established sugar district. The plantations formerly depended on rain for irrigation, but have now been made independent of the rainfall by a great ditch which carries water from twenty-five miles back in the mountains. Like the great ditches on Kauai and Maui, it was a difficult engineering feat, since the water had to be brought for three-fifths of the way through tunnels. The horseback ride along the line of this ditch takes one through some of the most magnificent scenery in the Islands. The Kohala Range is the oldest part of Hawaii, older indeed than parts of the northwestern islands, and as a result erosion has cut it into rugged and precipitous forms. It is through this chaos of mountains, which rise to a height of 5,489 feet, that the Kohala ditch runs, beginning in a reservoir east of the mountains near the head of the superb Waipio and Waimanu Valleys. These tremendous gulches, and the sheer sea cliffs many hundred feet high which separate them, seem possibly to be the result of another fault by which a part of the coast slid into the sea. Certainly to look down into them from above one can scarcely believe that erosion since the world began could have made such clean-cut precipices nor carved out such mighty gorges. Waipio runs back from the sea four miles, and then turns at right angles westward, ending back of Waimanu. Almost at the turn and near the village of Waipio there used to be a waterfall 1,700 feet high, but this can be seen now only in very rainy weather, since its water has been flumed away to carry cane to the mills. Ulu Falls, practically inaccessible at the very head of the Valley, is 3,000 feet high. Waimanu Valley is not as deep as its neighbour, nor as precipitous, but is far more beautiful in shape and in colouring. The trip along the Kohala ditch, a good day on horseback from the town, not only leads through the grandest of mountain scenery, but allows one to look down into these two extraordinary valleys. For one making the circuit of the island by motor an excellent side trip is therefore to leave the car at Kohala and, taking the horseback ride through the mountains, to meet it again on the road between Waimea and the Hamakua coast.

From Waimea, with its bracing air, its marvellous views of the Kohala Mountains on one side and of snow-capped Mauna Kea on the other, the road to Hilo runs directly eastward to the coast. The fork to the northwest adds a few miles to the distance, but permits one to look into the huge mouth of Waipio Valley before joining the main road again at Honokaa.

From this village with its plantation and its wild landing the road turns southeastward along the Hamakua coast. This district, except for the Waipio region in the north, has no springs or running streams, owing to the abrupt slope of the land. Ditches recently built have greatly improved the plantations, as they have enabled them to flume their cane and to irrigate during the very rare times of drought. Some plantations have built railroads to transport cane to the mills; one has instituted a complete overhead cable system. The mills themselves are always on the bluff over the ocean, where each has its own landing. Sugar, freight, and passengers are lowered in baskets by cables into rowboats waiting at the foot of the cliffs. Such an embarkation, with the basket swinging in the wind, and the inevitable curiosity as to whether one will finally reach the boat or the water, is an experience which taxes the nerves in any weather, and which in rough weather is really dangerous. Hamakua, next to Kona, is the principal coffee district of the Island, and there are thriving plantations a little distance up the slope of Mauna Kea along the edge of the forest. The villages are divided between the mills at the edge of the bluffs and the road about a mile inland. The gulches to cross are unimportant and not particularly interesting, but the gradually shifting view as one circles the mountain, the freshness of the green cane, here always washed clean with the frequent showers, the fields of coffee, neat and polished looking, even in the distance, the dark edge of the advancing and retreating forest, the bold outlines of the sea cliffs, even the six sugar mills that are passed, make this part of the trip constantly interesting.

On entering the district of Hilo at Ookala, thirty-two miles from the town of Hilo, one has reached a land of deep gulches, each with its precipitous sides masked under a wild tangle of trees and shrubs and vines. The road winds in and out, up and down, crosses stream after stream. In the gulches one has, through groves of cocoa nuts, entrancing glimpses of the tumbling water, with the surf gleaming white near the shore. Near the streams the air is often heavy with the violent perfume of lovely white or yellow ginger flowers. High overhead swing the slender cane flumes that carry the sugar cane to the mills on the shore. On the ridges that separate the gulches the dark blue horizon line curves out in a great half-circle against the paler sky, and on the land side Mauna Kea thrusts its snowy crest above the dark forests and the ring of clouds above them. Across its eastern shoulder, far beyond, the mighty summit of Mauna Loa looks like the back of some leviathan, its monstrous body hidden behind the forests and the low-lying mists. The whole coast, with its rugged promontories, its bits of pale green cane, its plantation houses in their groves of trees, its precipices garlanded with sky-blue morning-glories or golden nasturtiums, its cocoanuts and bananas, with always the restlessly surging ocean on one side and on the other the serene mountains, is a marvellous panorama, changing with every turn, changing as the sunlight flashes and as sudden showers veil the distant points.

The towns are unimportant. Laupahoehoe stands on a leaf-shaped tongue of rock that juts into the sea—"lava leaf " is the English of the name. Surf always pounds on the shore, and during a storm the roar of waters dominates all other sounds. The landing is from small boats in a little cove which fortunately is smooth, even though the sea outside may be very rough. If it were not for the great dexterity of the Hawaiian boatmen, who handle passengers as though they were bags of sugar, embarking and disembarking from rolling steamers into dancing row-boats would be quite impossible. At Honomu an excellent Japanese school with a boarding department has induced many Japanese to settle on the adjacent lands. Back in the gulch and easily reached is the Akaka Fall, 500 feet high, one of the prettiest in the Islands, that tumbles over the edge of jet-black rocks and into a basin back of which is a deep, dark cave. At either side the precipices are covered with maiden-hair and other small ferns, and around the basin high trees accentuate the altitude of the Fall. The natural arch at Onomea marks the approach to Hilo and the view of the beautiful crescent-shaped bay with the tree-embowered town behind is a lovely ending to an excursion which can nowhere be surpassed in its infinite variety of glorious natural scenery.

No directions can be given as to stopping places along the route, because the distance covered each day must depend on the weather and on the inclination of the traveller. There are comfortable inns at the Volcano, at Waiohinu, at Kealakekua Bay, at Kailua, at Waimea, at Kohala, at Honokaa, and at Laupahoehoe. Granted good weather the tourist travelling by automobile might plan to make his first stop at the Volcano House, 31 miles, or with the side trip into Puna, 77 miles; his next at Waiohinu, 42 miles; his next at Kealakekua, 42 miles; his next at Waimea, 35 miles (the road is in parts not very good); the side trip to Kohala and back to Waimea is 56 miles, and the night might well be spent in Kohala, proceeding next to Honokaa, 44 miles; the last day to Hilo, 50 miles. It would be possible to make the circuit of the Island by automobile in three days, omitting all the side trips, but for full enjoyment of the scenery and to visit the various points of interest, a week is none too much. Accommodations are everywhere simple, but everywhere clean and comfortable, and a breakdown is nowhere serious, since even in villages where there are no inns the people are hospitable and are always glad to take in strangers.

For those able and willing to take long, rough horseback trips there are three excursions at least which are well worth while. First is the ascent of Mauna Loa. This can perhaps best be made from the ranch of the Hawaiian Agricultural Company at Pahala, Kau, on the south side of the mountain, where Mr. Monserratt, the manager of the ranch, will make all arrangements. The trail leads up the shoulder of the mountain over the roughest possible lava flows through country that is superb in the desolation of its high windswept places. The ascent takes a full day and the night is spent on the brink of the great summit crater of Mokuaweoweo. At an altitude of nearly 14,000 feet the nights are of course always very cold. The ascent can also be made, if more convenient, from the west side, from Napoopoo in Kona, where Mr. John Gaspar takes charge of arrangements. This trip is longer, taking usually three days to go up and back, but has the advantage of finer views, since both Hualalai and Mauna Kea are visible for the greater part of the time.

The second excursion, and one less often taken, is the ascent of Mauna Kea. The best point of departure is from the Parkers' sheep ranch, which is situated thirty-five or forty miles from Waimea on the great upland plateau between the three mountains. Mauna Kea, which is the highest island mountain in the world, has a summit platform five miles long and two wide, and it is the huge cinder cones on this platform, which from below look like peaks, which make this mountain higher than its greater neighbour. On this platform, 12,000 feet above sea level, is an ancient quarry, where the natives in olden times made their stone adzes and weapons. There is also a small lake fed from the melting snows. From the Parkers' ranch it is possible to go to the top and back in one long day, and through the courtesy of the Parkers two nights may be spent at the ranch. The ascent may also be made from Mana on the northwest side, from Keanakola on the north, or from Papaiko on the east, arrangements for the trip being made in Hilo. Any one of these routes leads through the native forests, here quite untouched, as well as over the rocky region above the forest line, but any one takes more time than the first.

Another most interesting and almost unknown horseback trip is that from Kalaeha to Kilauea. This trail leads through magnificent and quite unexplored forests and across lava flows most fantastic in their formations. It takes one through some of the most beautiful country on Hawaii, through regions that are practically unknown, and where one can see the virgin tropical forests as wild and tangled as they were before the discovery of the Islands. Arrangements for this excursion, which takes three days, must be made with Mr. Shipman in Hilo.

These three trips, although perfectly practicable for good riders, are seldom taken by tourists, who think that when they have seen Kilauea, certainly when they have made the circuit of the Island, they have seen all that there is to be seen. Only by going off the beaten track, however, can one get a true impression of the country; only in this way an idea of the natural scenery unaffected by civilisation—scenery which happens to be of supreme natural beauty. Only by taking such trips as these, moreover, can the tourist realise that Hawaii is fully in the tropics, a land of superabundant, huge-leaved, multi-coloured growth. Tourists who wish to see these things should remember that except for the ascent of Mauna Loa, which, although the hardest trip, is often taken, notice of at least two or three days should be given so that arrangements can be made.

Even if it had no volcanoes Hawaii, with its magnificent mountains and its endless variety of climate and scenery, would well repay a visit of several days. It is, however, the volcanoes and especially the great active volcano of Kilauea which make the crossing to the Island imperative and which would make worth while a journey half way around the world.

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