This one, through the
Puna woods, only admits of one person at a time. It was really
rapturously lovely. Through the trees we saw the soft steel-blue of
the summer sky: not a leaf stirred, not a bird sang, a hush had
fallen on insect life, the quiet was perfect, even the ring of our
horses' hoofs on the lava was a discord. There was a slight
coolness in the air and a fresh mossy smell. It only required some
suggestion of decay, and the rustle of a fallen leaf now and then,
to make it an exact reproduction of a fine day in our English
October. The forest was enlivened by many natives bound for Hilo,
driving horses loaded with cocoa-nuts, bread-fruit, live fowls, poi
and kalo, while others with difficulty urged garlanded pigs in the
same direction, all as presents for the king. We brought back some
very scarce parasitic ferns.
HILO, February 24.
I rode over by myself to Onomea on Saturday to get a little rest
from the excitements of Hilo. A gentleman lent me a strong showy
mare to go out on, telling me that she was frisky and must be held
while I mounted; but before my feet were fairly in the stirrups, she
shook herself from the Chinaman who held her, and danced away. I
rode her five miles before she quieted down.
Pages:
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240