The guide is a
goat-hunter, and the chase is very curiously pursued. The hunter
catches sight of a flock of goats, and hunts them up the mountain,
till, agile and fleet of foot as they are, he actually tires them
out, and gets close enough to them to cut their throats for the sake
of their skins. If I understand rightly, this young man has
captured as many as seventy in a day.
CRATER HOUSE, KILAUEA. June 9th.
This morning Mr. Green left for Kona, and I for Kilauea; the
ranchman's native wife and her sister riding with me for several
miles to put me on the right track. Kahele's sociable instincts are
so strong, that, before they left me, I dismounted, blindfolded him,
and led him round and round several times, a process which so
successfully confused his intellects, that he started off in this
direction with more alacrity than usual. They certainly put me on a
track which could not be mistaken, for it was a narrow, straight
path, cut and hammered through a broad horrible a-a stream, whose
jagged spikes were the height of the horse. But beyond this lie ten
miles of pahoehoe, the lava-flows of ages, with only now and then
the vestige of a trail.
Except the perilous crossing of the Hilo gulches in February, this
is the most difficult ride I have had--eerie and impressive in every
way.
Pages:
471
472
473
474
475
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489
490
491
492
493
494
495