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passions, and breathed forth peace and philanthropy. There is a serene and settled majesty in woodland scenery that enters into the soul, and dilates and elevates it, and fills it with noble inclinations."
KOU AND THE COLT.
THE natives of Hawaii possess, to a marvelous
1 degree, skill in managing both boats and horses. Patience is born in them, and with them, and to them! Never did I see a native manifest what we term impatience; and irritability is with them, an unknown quantity, most certainly.
A native boy, with a little stub of a pencil, and an old battered knife, would peg away until he made for himself a fine sharp point, and then would most contentedly write and erase-write and erase, until his work was as even as a die!
Strange to say, they would insist upon the quality of their work rather than the quantity, even when told to hasten! And when tired, they would simply and coolly say, but in a most good-natured manner: “Too much work—too warm-some more to-morrow -no use—ma hoppe" (by and by).
If a boy was wanting a pencil, “Me lend !” “Me, too lend !” could quickly be heard. Happy, generous, laughing, light-hearted children, full of merriment, boisterous, talkative as parrots, and noisy ever, excepting when they are asleep. - It was an unusually warm, sultry afternoon, and I
was resting in my hammock, swung under the shade of a mammoth tree. We were so close to this most perfect beach (where it ought to be against the law to step with covered feet on the delightful mat of finest, whitest, warmest sand-where there is no undertow, no anything to mar a joyous sea-plunge by day or by night), that I could see the grand, rugged heads, Diamond and Koko, and hear the exquisite music of the surf as it slapped the shore so easily and gently with its white foam !
“There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
I love not man the less, but Nature more,
From all I may be, or have been before,
Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean-roll!
Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain,
Stops with the shore:-upon the watery plain
The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain
When for a moment, like a drop of rain,
Kou, an indolent, calm, good-natured, fine-looking native, came walking leisurely into the place, with the same unconscious grace they all possess when not too old, and closely following at his heels, the prettiest thing of a colt. It pranced about the paddock, giving me a shy look, as much as to say, “Why are you here? This is the domain for me to exercise in. I am 'Pout,' the handsome prince, of whom you must have been told, or why are you here watching me?" He was to be broken to the saddle for the first time that day. The man Kou walked quietly about whistling, singing, patting the colt, talking low to it in caressing native words, smoothing its face, and making it all sorts of promises—showing him the saddlecloth, moving and fixing the saddle over and over, working and cajoling for an hour or two to convince his Royal Highness that in this matter of riding there was to be no under-hand, or sleight-of-hand-no maneuvering, but all plain, open and above-board with him! Hours, or a day, seemed of no importance! Time was nothing to Kou! All was perfect deliberation. He was not there to frighten a timid child out of learning! I knew he was akamai (just the one) and I knew the saddle would go on and go on it did. And while the colt was very shy it had full faith in its master, and he finally rode out of the field on its back shouting Aloha! to me, and soon was lost to view on the beach! He conquered the animal simply by calming his own spirit; and he led up to it step by step, gently, firmly and patiently, as a wise and loving parent leads on an irritable and too-sensitive child. These native horses in the country districts object to a lantern on a dark night and when there is no moon there is darkness that can almost be felt. But these animals will “come out all right,” if trustingly left to their own devices. Parties and the rest are planned for moonlight nights; the native reckons by moons.
The finest fish I ate while at the Islands were given to me by a native boy—a former pupil-while stopping at this very beach. I met him one morning early when going for a plunge. He expressed great delight at ma bonne heure—told me his mother was part owner of a fish-pond near Koko Head. These ponds are enclosed by stone walls built out into shoal water, with openings for the tide to enter. The next day my boy-friend came, bringing me fish enough to last through a Lent—and what delicious fish! We were not going to have that fish go to waste, and we gave away to all our friends, besides eating fish for breakfast, dinner, and supper. “I bring this fish to you, my very good, kind teacher.” And before he left he went to the top of a cocoanut-tree and laid us in a supply of nuts. Ah, they are all “princes of the blood ”—Nature's noblemen!
These Heads—Diamond and Koko — are extinct volcanoes, like Punchbowl.
As soon as a vessel is sighted in the channel (Oahu) she is telephoned from the station at Diamond Head.
The telephone is to be found in every shop and in nearly every house in Honolulu, excepting “the narrow house” and the meeting-house (there may be one in the parlor of the latter; I did not go in to see) for the outlay is trifling, hardly more than the daily paper, as there are two companies, each urging for