Maturin M. Ballou

Under the Southern Cross

Or Travels in Australia, Tasmania, New Zealand, Samoa, and Other Pacific Islands
Published by Good Press, 2022
goodpress@okpublishing.info
EAN 4057664624086

Table of Contents


UNDER THE SOUTHERN CROSS.
CHAPTER I.
CHAPTER II.
CHAPTER III.
CHAPTER IV.
CHAPTER V.
CHAPTER VI.
CHAPTER VII.
CHAPTER VIII.
CHAPTER IX.
CHAPTER X.
CHAPTER XI.
CHAPTER XII.
CHAPTER XIII.
CHAPTER XIV.
CHAPTER XV.
CHAPTER XVI.
CHAPTER XVII.

UNDER THE SOUTHERN CROSS.

Table of Contents





CHAPTER I.

Table of Contents

Journey across the American Continent.—The Giant City of the West.—A Chinese Community.—Embarking for a Long Sea-voyage.—About Ocean Birds.—Navigating the Pacific.—Peculiarities of Life at Sea.—Curiosities of the Deep.—Ambergris.—City of Honolulu.—An Island Paradise.—Early Paganism at Hawaii.—Wholesale Human Sacrifices.—Royalty at the Race-course.—Not a Kingly Monarch.


When the author resolved upon a journey to the Antipodes he was in London, just returned from Norway, Sweden, and Russia, and contemplated reaching the far-away countries of Australia and New Zealand by going due east through the Mediterranean, the Suez Canal, the Red Sea, and then crossing the Indian Ocean. But this is not the nearest route to Oceania. The English monthly mail for that part of the world is regularly forwarded from Liverpool to Boston or New York, thence across the continent of America, and by steamboat from San Francisco. These mail steamers touch at the Sandwich Islands, after which the course lies southwest into the island-dotted latitudes of the widespread South Pacific. Auckland, in New Zealand, is reached by this route in thirty-seven days from London; and Sydney, in Australia, five days later,—the two great English colonies being separated by over a thousand miles of unbroken ocean. The latter route was adopted by the writer of these pages as being both more comfortable and more expeditious. Having already experienced the sirocco-like heat of the Red Sea throughout its whole length, from Adin to Suez, the prospect of a second journey in that exhausting region was anything but attractive. The Atlantic Ocean was therefore crossed to the westward, and a fair start made from much nearer home; namely, by the American Central Pacific route.

The journey by rail across our own continent was easily accomplished in one week of day-and-night travel, covering a distance of thirty-four hundred miles from Boston to San Francisco. Comfortable sleeping-cars obviate the necessity of stopping by the way for bodily rest, provided the traveller be physically strong and in good health. On a portion of the road one not only retires at his usual hour, but he also breakfasts, dines, and enjoys nearly all the domestic conveniences in the train, while it is moving at a rate varying from thirty-five to forty-five miles per hour, in such well-adjusted cars as hardly to realize that he is all the time being rapidly and surely forwarded to his destination.

The pleasing variety of scenery presented to the eyes of the watchful traveller from the car windows is extremely interesting and peculiarly American, embracing peaceful, widespread, fertile fields, valleys of exquisite verdure, foaming torrents and mountain gorges, together with Alpine ranges worthy of Switzerland. Now the route skirts the largest lakes on the face of the globe, navigated by mammoth steam ships; now follows the silvery course of some broad river, or crosses a great commercial water-way, hundreds of feet above its surface, by iron bridges skilfully hung in air. For scores of miles the road may run parallel with some busy canal crowded with heavily-laden barges, slowly making their way to market. Besides winding through mountain gorges, plains, parks, and primeval forests, one passes en route through grand and populous cities numbering half a million and more of people each, as well as through pleasant towns, thrifty villages, pioneer hamlets, and Indian reservations, where the plains are as far-reaching as the open sea, the blue of the sky overhead and the yellow buffalo-grass which carpets the earth forming the only blending colors,—until by and by a distant glimpse of the waters of the Pacific signifies that the land-journey draws near its close, and soon after the young but wonderful giant city of the West, San Francisco, is reached.

Five years had elapsed since we last visited this thriving metropolis, during which brief period whole streets of substantial houses have been erected in what was formerly a suburb of the town, and many noble architectural structures have been reared upon the long avenues previously established. In population forty thousand inhabitants have in that space of time been added to its aggregate numbers, while it is to-day growing in wealth, numbers, and political importance faster than ever before. What a panorama of living interest was afforded by its streets, alleys, and broad boulevards! How impressive to watch its cosmopolitan life, to note the exaggerated love of pleasure exhibited on all hands, the devotion of each active member of the community to money-making, the artificial manners and customs so widely prevailing, the iniquitous pursuits of the desperate and dangerous classes, and the ripe aptitude of their too willing victims! It is the solitary looker-on who sees more than the actors in the great drama of every-day life. It is "the hearing ear and the seeing eye" that enrich the memory and ripen the judgment. Is it not curious to observe how the lines of barbarism and civilization intersect along these teeming avenues?

Of our own country we do not propose to treat at length in these pages; but probably not many of our readers have visited the hidden corners of Chinatown in the metropolis of California,—a section of the city contiguous to its very centre, and yet at total variance with its every aspect. It required but a slight stretch of the imagination after passing its borders to believe oneself in Canton, Pekin, or Hong-Kong, except that the thoroughfares in the Asiatic capitals are mere alleys in width, shut in overhead and darkened by mats, while here we have broad streets after the American and European fashion, open to the sky. They are, however, lined with Chinese shops decked in all their national peculiarities exhibiting the most grotesque signs, while the windows are crowded with outlandish trash, and the whole is surrounded by an Oriental atmosphere. This section is entirely peopled by the Mongolians, and by such poor, fallen, abandoned men and women of other nationalities as seek among these surroundings to hide themselves from the shame and penalty of their crimes. There are but few native Chinese women here, and those that are seen have been smuggled in, it being the rule that none of them shall be landed in this country.

The Chinaman appears thoroughly at home here, and revels in his native dress,—pigtail, odd shoes, and silk attire,—even though he may adopt the American style while working as a stevedore on the wharves, or while engaged in various avocations about the other parts of the city. Here without the least attempt at disguise all the many vices of the race are freely indulged in, especially as regards sensuality, opium-smoking, and gambling. A Chinaman rarely touches spirituous liquors, so that there is no drunkenness to be seen in the district, but only that insensibility which is the effect of indulgence in opium. The thirty thousand Asiatics who live in Chinatown are packed together at night like dried herring in a box. Twenty of them often sleep in the same small room, lying upon the floor, without even an apology for a bed. Here they cook and eat mysterious dishes after the custom of their race, amid smells and filth which no American or European stomach could endure.

A couple of hours sufficed to give us all the personal experience of this locality we had the least wish to acquire, though our official guide of the police force proposed to introduce us to other peculiar sights and into deeper cellars,—places usually hidden from the curious eyes of the general public. The vile practices, indecent and gross exhibitions, which are indulged in by these Mongolians, no respectable paper would publish in detail. In short, Chinatown is the repository of vice of the most brutal and disgusting character, affording the fullest entertainment for the low tastes of the most depraved. Finding that this pandering to the curiosity of a certain class of whites brings them in money, the Chinamen give them all the grossness they are willing to pay for.

The reader, however, must not entertain a wrong idea with regard to Chinatown, since in the midst of all this squalor, dirt, immorality, and wickedness, there are some of this race living here who keep themselves untainted by the objectionable associations that surround them. They are the exceptions, to be sure. We were told of several Chinese gentlemen, for instance, who have amassed large fortunes by legitimate trade, within the last ten or fifteen years,—men who, as reliable and honorable merchants, stand high among the commercial people of San Francisco. Three names were given us by a gentleman who was well informed in the matter, of Asiatics who were each worth over a million dollars. To these were added the names of two who are worth over two millions. These men will not return to China, because the property tax is so high there. Like many of our own citizens, these Chinese find their great satisfaction in accumulating wealth, and so go on adding daily to their possessions. We have said that there are thirty thousand Chinese in this district, but we were officially informed that forty thousand would be much nearer the true aggregate.

The impression prevails that the open immigration of this race has ceased at San Francisco, but the arrival of several hundreds by steamer the day before we visited their miserable quarter of the town, was duly announced in the papers. These came by the way of Japan. A sickening odor adheres to one's clothing for hours after returning from the Asiatic section of San Francisco,—a flavor of musk, opium, stale tobacco, and sandal-wood, the latter being freely burned as an incense before the Chinese gods; for amid all his filth and vileness, John does not forget scrupulously to fulfil the conventional requirements of his idolatrous faith.

After a few days devoted to renewing acquaintance with the familiar localities of the city, passage was taken on board the Union Steamship Company's mail-packet "Zealandia" bound for Australia. Once before the Golden Gate, as the entrance into the harbor of San Francisco is called, had been passed by the author when bound upon a twenty days' sea-voyage. Japan then formed the objective point, the route being a northerly one; but the "Zealandia" was bound for the tropics and the far southern sea,—that vast region forming the largest expanse of ocean in the world and containing fully one half of its water surface. The Pacific measures nine thousand miles from north to south, and is ten thousand miles broad between Quinto, South America, and the Moluccas, or Spice Islands; while at the extreme north, where Behring Strait divides the continents of Asia and America, it is but about forty miles in width, and in clear weather one can distinctly see the shore of Asia from that of our own continent.

The harbor of San Francisco presented much the same busy scene which so impressed us five years before; it was full of commercial activity and the occupations incident to various forms of maritime life. The noise of steam-whistles from the ferry-boats, the hoarse signals from ocean-going vessels starting on long voyages, and the boatswain's shrill whistle were half deafening as they mingled in direst discord. Big white sea-gulls in myriads flew fearlessly in and out among the shipping, uttering defiant screams, or floated like corks upon the water alongside of the ship. In no other part of the world are there so many snow-white sea-gulls to be seen as frequent this spacious and charming bay. They are large, graceful, dignified birds, and are never molested, being looked upon as picturesque ornaments to the harbor; besides which they are the most active sort of scavengers in removing the floating carrion and the débris thrown from the wharves and the cook's galley. The gulls one sees off the coast of Norway and among the Loffoden Islands are thousands in number, but they are not nearly so large as are these bird-monarchs of the Pacific. Their rank, fishy flavor renders them unfit for the table, though the Chinamen about the wharves secretly snare and eat them. Their breeding-places are not known, but they must be hundreds of miles away on unfrequented rocks and reefs. Distance, however, is of little account to these buoyant navigators of the atmosphere.

One of the ship's officers told us of a sea-gull which was caught within the last year just off the Golden Gate, and detained for a brief period on board a steamship bound for Japan. A short piece of red tape was securely tied to one of its legs, after which the bird was released. This identical gull followed the ship across the Pacific into the harbor of Yokohama,—a distance of over four thousand miles. Until this experiment was tried, it had been doubted whether the same individual birds continue with a ship on a long voyage as they seem to do. "You will see the albatross as we get down south," continued the officer, "a bird worth watching, the largest of the gull family, frequently measuring across its outspread wings twelve feet from tip to tip." We resolved to be on the lookout for this king-bird, though rather doubting the mammoth proportions attributed to him.

By turning to a map of the Western Hemisphere it will be found that the Sandwich Islands are located far up in the northeastern part of the Pacific Ocean, whence a vessel laying her course for New Zealand steers south by west through a long tract of ocean, seemingly so full of islands that the inexperienced are apt to wonder how she can hold such a course and not run foul of some of the Polynesian groups. But so vast are the distances in Oceania, so mathematically exact are the rules of navigation, so well known are the prevailing winds and currents, that the passengers of a steamship may make the voyage and not sight even a headland between Honolulu and Auckland,—a distance of more than four thousand miles. This is the course we pursued, first steering for the Hawaiian group, and thence for the north headlands of New Zealand, via Tutuila, of the Samoan Islands.

It was Magellan, the Portuguese navigator, who first discovered this great ocean, sailing through the strait which bears his name. In the month of November, 1520, he finally came into the waters of the new sea upon which he was the first to sail, and which he named Mar Pacifico. It may have been "pacific" in his day, or may have seemed so to him after experiencing some rough weather on the other side of the continent of America, but we have seen it more turbulent than the Atlantic, especially where it approaches the Antarctic circle. Magellan did not long survive to enjoy the fame and profit of his discovery, as about a twelvemonth later he was killed in an unfortunate skirmish with the savages of some of the Pacific islands. He is often compared with his great contemporary Columbus, whose experience in the West Indies was undoubtedly the incentive for Magellan on his voyages of discovery.

Sea-life is conducive to idleness, and the saline atmosphere is narcotic. Lying in his berth the voyager gazes listlessly at the yellow iron-mould on the towels, the greasy moreen curtains, the restless hanging-lamp, and the damp, begrimed carpet, while he inhales the unpleasant bilge-scented atmosphere which penetrates everything. The jerking motion of the ship shaken incessantly by the propeller, causes the letters of the printed regulations tacked upon the door to run together in unintelligible lines, until at last he grows dizzy with the ceaseless motion imparted to everything. Finally, with a sudden burst of energy the deck is reached, where there is pretty sure to be something suggestive to occupy the mind and vary the wearisome monotony. The wonderful blue of the sea by day, and its fire-like phosphorescence by night, are always interesting. The Mediterranean between Malta and Gibraltar is proverbially blue, but the Pacific seemed to us more so. At times it lay as if in a trance, a perfect calm, the ship's keel gliding as it were over a burnished metallic field, or a flood of molten sapphire. The familiar jelly-fish often appeared above the liquid depths, contracting and expanding its soft, flat body, and thus progressing through the still waters, its half-transparent form emitting opaline colors under the warm rays of the sun. The many-armed, vaulting cuttle-fish was seen now and again leaping out of the water as though pursued by some aquatic enemy, though its general habit is not to frequent the surface by daylight. Specimens of the deep-sea star-fish with its five arms of equal length were abundant. Those which we met here were of a reddish and purple color combined, but we have seen them in shallower waters of a bright orange-yellow. While exhibiting but little apparent life, the star-fish can yet be quite aggressive when pressed by hunger and in search of food, having, as naturalists tell us, a mysterious way of causing the oyster to open its shell, whereupon the star-fish proceeds gradually to consume the body of the bivalve.

One frail, small rover of the quiet surface of the sea always interested us,—the tiny nautilus, with a transparent shell almost as frail as writing-paper. It was to be seen only in calm weather. If disturbed, it drew itself within its sheltering cover and sank slowly from sight. No wonder the ancient Greeks saw in its beautifully corrugated shell the graceful model of a galleon; and hence its name, derived from the Greek word which signifies a ship.

Every amusing suggestion, however trivial, is welcome, if it only serves to break the depressing monotony of the sea,—a sail, a shark, a new ocean bird, a school of porpoises. Two or three of our passengers had supplied themselves with microscopes, and they often dropped a gauze scoop-net over the ship's side, where it was permitted to trail for a few moments; then drawing it on board they amused themselves by subjecting the contents to a microscopic examination. The results were often very curious. On one occasion a short bit of floating sea-weed was thus obtained, upon which was securely woven a cluster of what looked like tiny quinces in shape, though the color was jet black. They were called sea-grapes by the sailors, but we knew them to be a cluster of fishes' eggs. They proved to be those of the cuttle-fish, and were eighteen or twenty in number.

Amiable persons exhibit their natural traits of disposition at sea in strong contrast to those who are actuated by opposite qualities,—the latter, we are sorry to say, being nearly always in the majority. Enmities and friendships are formed with equal promptness and facility; but however desirable it may be, there is no escaping the forced companionship incident to life on shipboard, where ceremony is for the time being mostly banished. Customs become established which would be considered rather outré upon land. Ennui has made more persons reckless than has despair. Those individuals are comparatively few on such occasions who have sufficient mental resource profitably to occupy their minds, and those who have nothing to do quickly tire of themselves and of all about them. If it were not for the decided breaks in the routine of each day and evening afforded by the several meals, surely suicides at sea would be frequent. One inevitable conclusion is sure to be arrived at; namely, that a long sea-voyage is an infallible remedy for over-fastidiousness and sickly sentimentality.

When we had been at sea about a week there was observed floating upon the water a pale-gray, amber-like substance; it was not abundant, but to the watchful eye seemed peculiar, and was several times apparent. This our captain declared to be ambergris,—a substance originally found in the intestines of the sperm whale, and believed to be produced there only. Science declares it to be a diseased secretion of the animal, probably induced by indigestion,—just as the pearl is a diseased secretion of the Australian and Penang oysters. Ambergris is often found floating about the shores of the Coral Sea and throughout the region known as Australasia, having been ejected by the many whales frequenting these latitudes. On the west coast of New Zealand the natives may frequently be seen searching along the shore after a heavy gale, eagerly securing more or less of the article. The "Zealandia," on her previous voyage to that of which we are now writing, brought from Auckland to San Francisco three boxes of ambergris weighing about one hundred pounds each, the three boxes being invoiced at a valuation of thirty thousand dollars. It is rarely that so much is imported into this country in a twelvemonth. When first taken from the whale it is of a soft texture, and is quite offensive to the smell; but after a brief exposure to the air it rapidly hardens, and then emits a sweet, earthy odor, and is used for the manufacture of the choicest perfumery, being nearly as important for that purpose as the more costly musk.

The peculiar currents of the sea in these special regions, its vast extent and fabulous depths, the huge monsters and the tiny creatures occupying it, the speed of the ship, her exact tonnage and the trade in which she had been engaged since she was launched on the Clyde,—all these items became of vital importance to the voyagers, but their detail would seem prosy to the general reader. It was really surprising to see how earnest intelligent people become over matters which under ordinary circumstances and on shore would not have received a moment's consideration.

The distance which we expected to accomplish was referred to daily, and was thus formulated: From San Francisco to Honolulu is twenty-one hundred miles; from Honolulu to Auckland is thirty-eight hundred miles; from Auckland to Sydney is twelve hundred and eighty miles. The ship's run was daily recorded and posted up for the general satisfaction, the result being promptly deducted from the aggregated figures as above.

It was on the eighth day of the voyage that we made the Sandwich Islands. A glance at the map will show the reader that these volcanic upheavals lie on the bosom of the North Pacific, in a slight curve, and number thirteen in all. The total area combined does not exceed sixty-five hundred square miles, seven of them being mere islets, and six only are inhabited. The largest of the group is Hawaii, situated the farthest south, being in round numbers a hundred miles long by eighty broad, and with the natives gives its name to the whole group, as they are here officially called the Hawaiian Islands,—though Captain Cook, on their first being discovered, about a hundred years ago, gave them the name of the Sandwich Islands, after the then first Lord of the English Admiralty, and by this latter name they are generally known on the maps and in geographies.

The chain of islands which form the group are but a series of volcanic peaks rising abruptly from a depth of three miles below the sea-level to as great a height above it, being, so to speak, natural chimneys from the tops of which vast internal fires in former ages have found vent.

We made the island of Oahu, passing along the windward shores of Maui and Molokai in the early gray of a soft June morning, and doubling the lofty promontory known as Diamond Head, which rears its precipitous front seven hundred feet above the sea. We ran along the coast while the sun rose and beautified the mountain-tops, the green slopes, gulches, and fern-clad hills sparkling with streamlets. The dawn was lovely in its aspect, fresh and sweet. A gentle land-breeze brought us the dewy fragrance of the flowers which had been distilled from a wilderness of bloom during the tropical night. The uncertain light melted slowly away as a dainty flush appeared in the east. A few transparent clouds hung over the verdant isle, clouds so fleecy and ermine-like that they might have been the mantles of angels. It was entrancing thus to be gliding noiselessly over a perfectly calm sea, with so many attendant elements of beauty. We stood quite alone in the bow of the ship, wondering how the passengers below could court the thrall of sleep at such a moment.

As we drew nearer and nearer to the shore, sugar plantations, cocoanut groves, and verdant pastures came clearly into view, dotted here and there with the low primitive dwellings of the natives, and occasionally ornamented by the picturesque, vine-covered cottages of American and European residents. As the city of Honolulu was approached, it seemed to be half buried in a cloud of luxuriant foliage. Blessed with frequent rains, drought is not known here, and the verdure is perennial.

The sudden change of the color of the ocean was very noticeable as we steamed at half speed through a narrow gap of the coral reef which forms a natural breakwater to the harbor. We passed the light-house which stands on the inner edge of the reef,—a structure not over thirty feet in height, consequently not visible from a ship's deck more than ten miles away. The captain informed us that it was the only light between this island and the coast of New Zealand, in the far South Pacific. The channel through the reef to safe anchorage is carefully buoyed on either side, and at night a safety-lantern is placed upon each of these little floating beacons, so that a steamer can easily steer her course in safety, come when she may.

Though the volcanic origin of the land is plain, it is not the sole cause of these reefs and islands appearing thus in mid-ocean. Upon the flanks of the upheaval the coral insect with tireless industry rears its amazing structure, until it reaches the surface of the waves as a reef, more or less contiguous to the shore, and to which ages finally serve to join it. The tiny creature delegated by Providence to build these reefs dies on exposure to air,—its work being then done. The far-reaching antiquity of the islands is established by these very coralline formations, which could only have attained their present elevation just below the surface by the growth of thousands of years. As already intimated, the land rises so abruptly from the bottom of the sea that the water retains its dark-blue tint to within a short distance of the shore, where it assumes a light-blue and bottle-green hue, with other magic colors striking in their effect viewed beneath the clear morning light and embossed with the rays of the glowing sun.

We were soon safely moored inside the harbor, where there is an average depth of sixteen fathoms, and room for a hundred large vessels to find anchorage at the same time. The wharves are spacious and most substantially built, with ample depth alongside. Honolulu, which is situated on the south side of the island, is the commercial port of the whole group,—the half-way house, as it were, between North America and Asia, California and the New World of Australasia.

The streets of the Anglo-Hawaiian capital are clean and all admirably macadamized, the material employed for the purpose being coral, black lava, stone, and sand. At night the thoroughfares are rendered nearly as light as by day, through the liberal use of gas. One of the first things to attract our attention after landing was a huge steam-rolling machine at work upon the road-bed of one of the streets leading to the wharves. The city, with its twenty thousand inhabitants more or less, has all the belongings of modern civilization, such as churches, charitable institutions, hospitals, schools, gas, electric lights, and the telephone; yet it was forced upon the mind how brief the period that had transpired since this was nearly a wilderness, peopled by a race of cannibals, whose idolatrous superstitions involved frequent human sacrifices. To-day nearly all the rising generation can read and write, and the entire race are professed Christians. One fact especially indicative of progress came to our knowledge; namely, that the government expends fifty thousand dollars annually upon the local schools. Could a stronger contrast be found than the aspect presented by Honolulu when Captain Cook discovered these islands, in 1778, and that of the Honolulu of 1888? In imagination we find ourself trying to look forward to the close of another century, and surmising what may then be the condition of these isolated spots of earth.

The original paganism of this people was of the most brutal type, revelling in human gore. We were told of rows of stone altars on which a hundred victims are known to have been sacrificed at one time, the altars still standing as memorials of the wretched idolatrous worship of the past. Such scenes were of frequent occurrence among the aborigines, surrounded by a climate which was nearly perfect, and by a profuseness and bounty of vegetation that made the support of life a mere holiday existence. They poured out human blood like water upon the altars erected to their idols, and fattened upon human flesh. It is strange indeed that some of the most lovely parts of the world should have been peopled by cannibals. We speak in the past tense; but all travellers in savage, half-civilized lands know that there are many waste places of the earth which are to-day the abode of the anthropophagi.

In those early days the several islands of the Hawaiian group had each a separate king. Bitter wars were frequent among them, and the savages of the Pacific islands always ate their prisoners taken in battle. King Kamehameha finally subjected the several isles to his sway, and founded the government which has lasted to our day.

Many of the streets of Honolulu present a grateful shade along the sidewalks, being lined by choice ornamental trees, of which the cocoanut, palm, bread-fruit, candle-nut, and some others are indigenous; but many have been introduced from abroad and become thoroughly domesticated. The tall mango-tree with its rich, glossy leaves, the branches bending under the weight of its delicious fruit, was seen growing everywhere, though it is not a native of these islands. It was impossible not to observe with acute interest the great variety of fruit-trees, most of whose pendulous branches were heavy with luscious products. Among them were the feathery tamarind, the orange, lime, alligator-pear, citron-fig, date, palm, rose-apple, and some others whose names we did not learn. Of all the flowering trees the brilliant Ponciana regia was most conspicuous and attractive, with its cloud of scarlet blossoms, each cluster as large as a Florida orange.

Some of the thoroughfares, especially that known as King's Street, are lined by pretty, low-built cottages, standing a hundred feet and more back from the roadway, with broad, inviting verandas, the whole front festooned and nearly hidden by tropical and semi-tropical plants in full bloom. This delightful aspect was supplemented by lovely flower-beds, and groups of ornamental trees in the gardens, with here and there an isolated Norfolk Island pine, forcing its strong individuality of shape and foliage upon the observation. A China rose-tree full of crimson flowers was noticed, and in a garden near the palace we saw a peach-tree, with one side full of rosy blossoms, while the other was decked with ripening fruit. How this was achieved we did not stop to inquire, pausing only long enough to admire the novel and anomalous effect. The gardens of Honolulu do not lack for water, a never-failing supply of the precious liquid being brought from the neighboring mountains in large iron pipes, and introduced into each city dwelling; moreover, we were told by the residents that they have only to sink a well ten or twelve feet deep anywhere on the plateau occupied by the city, when an abundance of water can always be secured. It was delightful to think that this lovely floral display to be seen all about us, around the native shanties as well as in the grounds of the better classes, was not confined to any one season, but that the various months of the year were severally beautified with roses, lilies, and the thousand and one gems of Flora's kingdom grown out-of-doors.

The race-course of Honolulu is situated four or five miles from the city proper, and is reached by a hard, well-kept, level road passing, it seemed, through one continuous tropical garden. Here was presented to us a gay and interesting picture of strong local color. The course occupies ample grounds laid out and fenced in the usual circular style of a one-mile track. The racing was conducted by the Jockey Club of the city, who certainly introduced on this occasion some remarkably well-bred animals. However they may have become possessed of the money, the natives, high and low, seemed to have plenty of loose cash to bet with, and the silver dollars were rapidly passed from hand to hand as each trial came to an issue. It was all conducted upon the cash principle; no accounts seemed to be kept, but settlements were made then and there, between the races. The scene was enlivened with music furnished by the king's native band, composed of twenty-eight colored men led by a German conductor. This band is certainly under remarkable discipline and very scientific instruction, and few similar organizations of white men in America can be truthfully said to excel them. They were uniformed in pure white linen ornamented with brass buttons, bearing the national Hawaiian arms, and wore snow-white helmets tipped with spikes of glittering brass of the German army pattern.

King Kalakana, who is very fond of racing and always assists at these exhibitions, greeted us cordially upon the grand stand, where he sat among the other spectators dressed in a suit of white linen and a plain straw hat. A few moments later, by invitation of his Majesty we stepped into an adjoining apartment, where he jauntily tossed off a goblet brimming with champagne, adding a few pleasant words of welcome. The trouble with him is that he is far too much inclined "to look upon the wine when it is red," though we were informed confidentially that his favorite tipple was gin. Notwithstanding that he is a man of more than ordinary intelligence, and even of a considerable degree of culture, morally speaking he has no traits of character which command respect, and is at times so much given to a sensual life as to outrage all kingly associations, incurring the disgust even of his most intimate associates. In person he is tall, well built, a little over six feet in height, of very dark complexion, and with crisp curly hair. He is remarkably superstitious, we were told, and consults pretended supernatural agents as to various State matters. This trait must have been born in him, and is matched by a similar spirit prevailing in the breast of every native. He is too selfish in disposition to be exercised by any real degree of patriotism, and "can be bought at a very low market value in connection with any private enterprise," to quote the words of a leading citizen with whom we conversed about the political condition of the islands. There are always plenty of adventurers ready to take advantage of such possible venality, and our informant told us that there were stories privately circulated, and undoubtedly true, which if publicly substantiated would result in his being dethroned. "Indeed," he added, "there is only a sort of phantom royalty maintained in Honolulu." These considerations did not tend to prepossess us much in the king's favor; and besides, it was impossible readily to forget that his direct ancestors slew, roasted, and ate Captain Cook.

This delectable monarch has just passed his fifty-second year, and as he may very properly be styled a fast liver, his career will hardly be a long one, more especially as the islands seem to be in a troubled political condition, so deep seated that a revolution is at all times imminent, while the proposed establishment of a republic is freely prognosticated and openly discussed. It is reported that the king has lately been detected in receiving heavy bribes for the granting of certain valuable and exclusive privileges; besides which, his personal life and habits being, as already intimated, extremely repulsive to a large portion of the people, he is growing daily more and more unpopular. It is well known that merchants and resident foreigners have been for some time taking serious steps for self-protection and the safe care of their property in the event of a popular uprising. The present king, it will be remembered, was elected to the throne by ballot upon the death of the former sovereign, who died about fourteen years ago, without leaving any regular heir to succeed him. The heir-apparent to the throne is the brother of the king, and is now thirty-three years of age.







CHAPTER II.

Table of Contents

Ladies Riding Astride.—Passion for Flower Decorations.—A Sailor on a Bucking Horse.—A Weekly Gala-day.—Hawaiian Ladies' Costume.—A Famous Battle-ground.—The Native's Staff of Life.—Ubiquitous John Chinaman.—Largest Apple-orchard in the World.—Hawaiians as Cannibals.—An Active Volcano.—Colony of Lepers.—Unwelcome Visitors.—Our Political Relations with the Sandwich Islands.


There are not infrequently substantial reasons for customs which appear to us absurd at first blush. It was observed at the race-course of Honolulu that the women all rode man-fashion,—that is, astride of their horses; and being accustomed to the saddle from childhood they rode remarkably well. Even European and American ladies who become residents also adopt this fashion of riding, for the reason, as we were told, that side-saddles are not considered to be safe on the steep mountain roads. If one rides in any direction here mountains must be crossed. Every one rides on horseback,—men, women, and children. He must be a poor man indeed who does not own two or three horses of the pony, island breed. There are plenty of light American-built vehicles to be had for use about the city roads, but wheels will not answer upon the mountain paths. It should be mentioned, for the benefit of invalids as well as pleasure travellers, that there is an admirable public house in the centre of the town, built by the Government and leased to a competent landlord. It is kept on the American plan, and has all the modern comforts and conveniences, is lighted by gas, furnished with electric bells, and has accommodations for fifty guests.

The native women festoon themselves in an extraordinary manner with flowers on all gala occasions, while the men wear wreaths of the same about their straw hats, often adding braided leaves of laurel hung across the shoulder and chest. The white blossoms of the jasmine, fragrant as tuberoses, which they much resemble, are generally employed for this decorative purpose, being offered for sale about the streets and on the veranda of the hotel in long strings woven fresh from the vines. Upon the slightest excuse for doing so, all Honolulu blossoms like a rose. We landed on a Saturday, which is a regular gala-day with the natives, and indeed every one seems to join in making it a general holiday. It is pay-day on the plantations and in the town establishments, besides being the day on which the country people come to market with their produce. But all marketing, all buying and selling of goods is over by noon or an hour after, when the riot of pleasure-seeking begins. It was a ludicrous sight to observe the sailors who happened to be in port join in the Saturday carnival. To do so in proper style it was absolutely necessary for them to be on horseback; and a sailor in that situation always seems like a fish out of water. With his feet thrust as far into the stirrups as possible, his body bent well forward and with both hands firmly grasping the pommel of the saddle, he leaves the horse to go pretty much his own way, while he thumps hard and fast up and down in his uncertain seat, to the undisguised merriment of the natives and lookers-on generally.

One of these foremast hands had been furnished with a bucking horse,—we rather think designedly so. The animal was subject to periodical attacks of this vicious propensity, one of which fits took him directly opposite the Post-office, where we chanced to be standing. It was really astonishing to see how successfully the unaccustomed rider clung to the horse's back; a practised rider could not have kept his seat more determinedly. The struggle between horse and man lasted for some ten minutes, but was finally ended by Jack Tar being landed in the middle of the street face downward, to the infinite amusement of the crowd who had watched the progress of the struggle. Jack, nevertheless, remounted his Bucephalus, and rode away with his comrades, who had patiently awaited the issue, bestriding the animal as he would have done a topsail yard in a gale of wind.

Both sexes of the natives much affect bright colors upon their persons, such as scarlet turbans wound about their heads; and sky-blue scarfs and yellow gowns predominate, producing a very picturesque if somewhat anomalous effect. When the head is bare their jet-black hair is sleek and glistening with cocoanut oil. The women wear but one garment, usually of French calico, close at the throat and extending from the yoke to the ankles. The gown is quite free and flowing, not confined at the waist, the wearer being generally bare-legged and bare-footed,—thus adding to the diaphanous nature of the costume, which after all is well adapted to the climate. It was noticed that the foreign-born ladies often appeared in the same style of dress, adding slippers and hose. To be very fleshy is considered as adding a charm to the Hawaiian ladies; and however this is brought about, it certainly prevails, affording the individual possessor of such a plethoric condition evident satisfaction. As a people the Hawaiians are very courteous and respectful, rarely failing to greet the passing stranger with a pleasant smile and a softly articulated "oloha," equivalent to "my love to you." The drinking of kava, the native spirituous liquor, is no doubt conducive to the immoderate accumulation of flesh, or at least to a bloated condition of the body; but as a rule the natives are not intemperate drinkers, except perhaps on Saturdays, when, as we have already intimated, the town is half mad with all sorts of excesses.

One statue only was noticed in Honolulu,—a bronze figure representing Kamehameha I., which was decked with a gilded robe and helmet, producing a tawdry and vulgar effect. There are four bronze tablets in bas-relief upon the pedestal, representing emblematical scenes relating to the first discovery of the island by Captain Cook and of his early intercourse with the barbarous natives. The whole monument is crude and inartistic, but doubtless it was an expensive affair. This Kamehameha I. must have been anything but a nice sort of person. When the missionaries first came hither he was living with his five sisters as wives; and when told how outrageous this was in the light of Christianity, he compromised the matter by selecting his oldest sister as his favorite wife and discarding the rest. He died in 1819, at the age of eighty-three years, and was a polygamous old rascal or a patriotic Alexander, according to the standpoint from which he is judged. If we can credit the Hawaiian legends, he was a man who possessed great physical strength as well as skill in the use of weapons, and was undoubtedly brave. He was the father of his people in more than one sense, having as many children as the late Brigham Young.

A drive of three or four miles from the city brings one to what is called the "Pali," which signifies in English the precipice. The route thither is straight up the Nuuanu Valley over a very uneven and only half-passable road, rocks and stones disputing every foot of the way with the vehicle, until by a not very abrupt ascent a height of three thousand feet above sea-level is reached. The last part of the distance is accomplished on foot, and presently the visitor finds himself standing upon the very edge of an abrupt precipice at the head of the valley, affording one of the most remarkable views to be found in any part of the globe. Lying fifteen hundred feet below the brow of this cliff is an outspread area of thirty or forty square miles embracing hills marked by winding bridle-paths, level plains, small rolling prairies, groves of cocoanut, of bananas, and sugar-cane plantations, small herds of cattle on grazing ranches, and rice-fields extending to the verge of the ocean. This large area is bordered on either side by mountains of various heights, composed of lava-rock so formed as to give the appearance of having been cleft in two, the precipitous side left standing, and the other half lost in the ocean; coral reefs form the seaward boundary marked by a long, white, irregular line of surf breaking over them. As one regards this view from the top of the Pali, there arises on his immediate right a steep mountain four thousand feet heavenward, forming the highest point on the island of Oahu, recorded as being at the apex seven thousand feet above the level of the sea.

The valley of Nuuanu opens with a broad entrance at the end nearest to the city, but contracts gradually as one ascends, until at its head it is a narrow gap or mountain-pass through which is a bridle-path leading over the range to the country below. Through this pass the wind draws with such power and velocity as to compel the traveller to grasp securely the iron barrier which has been erected to enable one to approach the verge of the cliff in safety. This narrow opening forms the gate through which Honolulu gets its daily taste of the refreshing trade-winds.

In ascending this beautiful valley one is constantly charmed by the discovery of new tropical trees, luxurious creepers, and lovely wild-flowers. The strangers' burial-ground is passed just after crossing the Nuuanu stream, and close at hand is the Royal Mausoleum,—a stone structure in Gothic style, which contains the remains of all the Hawaiian kings, as well as those of many of the high chiefs who have died since the conquest. Some shaded bathing-pools are formed by the mountain streams lying half hidden in the dense foliage. Here one also passes the residence of ex-Queen Emma, widow of the late king, pleasantly located and flower-embowered, having within its grounds some notable examples of fine tropical trees from other lands. Its mistress was educated in England, and has here surrounded herself with many European comforts and elegancies. She may be seen almost daily driving out in a pony-carriage, to which a nice pair of showy though small island-bred horses are attached.

This valley is classic ground in the history of these islands, being the spot where the fierce and conquering invader, King Kamehameha I., fought his last decisive battle, the result of which confirmed him as sole monarch of the Hawaiian group. Here the natives of Oahu made their final stand, and fought desperately, resisting with clubs and spears the savage hordes led by Kamehameha. But they were defeated at last, and with their king, Kaiana, who led them in person, were driven over the abrupt and fatal cliff by hundreds, bravely ending the struggle for liberty with the sacrifice of their lives. The half-caste guide tells the stranger of this battle and its issue with a sad air and earnestness of feeling not akin to the humdrum stories of European guides, who recite their lesson by rote, like parrots.

No person should land at Honolulu and go away without visiting the Pali. It can easily be accomplished in three or four hours by vehicle, or if one is pressed for time it can be done more quickly, and to the author's mind much more agreeably, on horseback. In our eagerness to see and enjoy every aspect of the valley, breakfast had been forgotten, and it was already high noon, so that a preparation of wild bananas, bruised into a paste and stewed in cocoanut cream, was partaken of with much relish at a native hut. The dish was new to us, and was rendered still more acceptable by a cup of native coffee, which had not been adulterated by the cunning trader's art.

On the way to the valley, and indeed all about the environs of the city, one passes large patches, measuring an acre more or less, of submerged land, where is grown the Hawaiian staff of life,—the taro, a root which is cultivated in mud, and mostly under water, recalling the rice-fields as we have seen them in Japan and China. The article thus produced, when baked and pounded to a paste, forms a nutritious sort of dough, like uncooked flour, which is called poi