L. daily
assembled the women and children, and taught them the habits and
industries of civilization, to attend to their persons, to braid
hats, and to wear and make clothes.
During this time, on November 7, 1837, one of the striking phenomena
which make the islands remarkable occurred. The crescent sand-
beach, said to be the most beautiful in the Pacific, the fringe of
palms, the far-reaching groves behind, and the great ocean, slept in
summer calm, as they sleep to-day. Four sermons, as usual, had been
preached to audiences of 6000 people. There had been a funeral, the
natives say, though Mr. C. does not remember it, and his text had
been "Be ye also ready," and larger throngs than usual had followed
the preachers to their homes. The fatiguing day was over, the
natives were singing hymns in the still evening air, and Mr. C. "had
gathered his family for prayers" in the very room in which he told
me this story, when they were startled by "a sound as if a heavy
mountain had fallen on the beach." There was at once a fearful cry,
wailing, and indescribable confusion. The quiet ocean had risen in
a moment in a gigantic wave, which, rushing in with the speed of a
racehorse, and uplifting itself over the shore, swept everything
into promiscuous ruin; men, women, children, dogs, houses, food,
canoes, clothing, floated wildly on the flood, and hundreds of
people were struggling among the billows in the midst of their
earthly all.
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