CHAPTER VIII.

THE HAWAIIAN ISLANDS.

TO-DAY, Saturday, the 28th of August, I again left the States, but again to return. All was ready in due time, and at half-past three in the afternoon my friend Dr. Prado and I got on board the MariposaCaptain Hayward-and took possession of cabin A on deck, bound for Honolulu in Oáhu (accented only for pronunciation), not the largest island in the group, but the seat of Government, so chosen because of its harbour. Our steamer was of 3000 tons burden; the distance to cover was 2080 knots, and our average speed was counted at about thirteen knots an hour. We found our decks tolerably well lined from end to end with boxes of cargo-so far as I remember, of onions; and the entrance to the saloon below, with seats, and pianoforte, etc., round the staircase, was entitled, as I found was the general style in American steamers, "Social hall." The vessel was lighted throughout with the electric light, a great convenience for reading in the saloon, where the light was thus permitted to fall full on the table without the shadow of all those heavy ornaments usually crammed upon hanging lamps by false art-of which there is so

much about everywhere—and which serve to hinder by their teasing shadow the very use for which lamps are required. But there was no "bar" where you could apply for a glass of wine, etc., at need-a strange arrangement, especially on board an American vessel, I thought. If you wanted anything besides water you must order a whole bottle, or go without—a regulation doubly disagreeable where the wine is higher by a good deal in price than in cru. Music and singing were occasional during our passage, and one among the number engaged his hearers with the novelty of whistling to the accompaniment. We had on board, among the number, the Honourable Mr. Carter, the Hawaiian minister to the United States, who was visiting Honolulu on leave, whose acquaintance was afterwards of great advantage to me at Washington, and also a Rev. Mr. Peck, the Presbyterian minister of Waterville, New York, whose pleasant companionship throughout my sojourn in the Islands greatly contributed to its enjoyment.

It was with some anxiety that I looked forward to a view of the Golden Gate Harbour on this my second passage through it. But no! all was again fog, and so continued through the whole of Sunday and until the afternoon of Monday, when we were permitted (graciously, of course), at nearly six hundred miles at sea, to behold the first violet colours of the Pacific. But this somewhat uncertain atmosphere stood me in one stead on the following night. It has often been my custom at sea, when the mysteri

ous dusks of late evening or night fall upon us, to trace out and conjure up ocular illusions, conversing with the clouds and waters. On this occasion, as we were moving steadily along at night, walking towards the prow of the vessel, I did not really figure to myself, but I suddenly beheld, at about a knot before us, a large forest sloping down to a large sandbank, and a shore extending far to our right. The general aspect of the sky was indeed most strange, and the dashes of light most singularly interspersed. Dr. Prado was close by, and, on calling his attention to the vision, he was equally struck with the illusion. "I will really call the captain," I said; and forthwith to his cabin I went.

It was a bold step, for he was surrounded by a group, partly of ladies, in full conversation, as was his pleasant wont.

"Captain," I said, summoning up courage, "do you know you're running us straight (I did not say right straight") on to a sandbank and a large forest?". Obliged for the information, friend.”

"Do come and see."

Forth they all came, and, to my great satisfaction, were quite excited with the appearance, one lady even quickly discovering a longer trace of sandbanks than I had given myself time to look for. We stayed full ten minutes, teasing ourselves with the illusion before leaving it, and that evening, at least, was relieved by an incident.

Many a time, at many an evening or nightly

hour, these phantastic pictures may be painted in the sky and clouds, and on the very following evening my friend and I, immediately after a glowing sunset, sat conjuring out an enormous canvas of golden sands and dark rocks and sea-shrubs, a large lake and shores with islands standing out in an immense sea (the sky) beyond. It was a dissolving view changing again and again.

In our propitious passage there was no change; all went smoothly. One night, sitting talking to the captain, and making an observation on this happy circumstance as characteristic of these seas, I was struck by his reply.

"Yes," he said; “and I can talk as quietly as the sea with you, for I know all is right below."

"Is it not so always?"

"It depends on whom I have in my engine-room. I have Chinese at present, who are always docile and can always do what they are told; but if I get Irish there, I never feel sure either that they are not going to get into a fight with one another or with me as to who is to be master."

I asked him if he could not get Americans, but he said the occupation was exceedingly distasteful to them, and that in general Americans were averse to going to sea; that line of life was not a national propensity.

I did not find that our dinner-table was adorned with very first-rate food, though the fruit was, as a general rule, good. Hard indeed it would have been

M

to have found it otherwise in gifted California.

I

had the good fortune, however, to be seated opposite two very pleasant girls, evidently devoted friends, who were on their way from the States to the Islands, for the purpose of undertaking teaching as members of the staff of Honolulu college-an establishment which I had much pleasure in visiting later on with Mr. Peck, but with the displeasure of finding that the two young ladies were at that moment absent on duty, and more seriously occupied than in entertaining us.

On the night of Friday, September 3, Captain Hayward offered to have me called to see our approach to Honolulu, which he calculated would be at very early dawn; which suggestion I eagerly embraced, particularly as the weather was now bright, after our having suffered some of those heavy warmwater rains, with which I had in times past made unwilling acquaintance in the equatorial doldrums.

Exquisite was the morning air, magically recalling Gray's line in fullest sense

"The breezy call of incense-breathing morn."

And exquisite was the modest colouring, gradually blooming into sunrise, as we came to Diamond Head. Here we caught first sight of Honolulu, lying in an open valley, backed by singularly green serrated and convoluted hills or mountains; and presently all seemed to wake at the actual moment of the rising of the sun, who shed abroad those lovely orange clouds peculiar to the tropics, painting his canvas of sky as only at his rising and setting even he can