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Puna, the Home of the Coco-palm—A Magical Spring— A Leper Exodus —“Bill
Ragsdale"—Self-sacrifice of Father Damiens
Hilo, June 1st
Mr. and Mrs.
Severance and I have just returned from a three days' expedition to Puna
in the south of Hawaii, and I preferred their agreeable company even to
solitude! My sociable Kahele was also pleased, and consequently behaved
very well. We were compelled to ride for twenty-three miles in single
file, owing to the extreme narrowness of the lava track, which has been
literally hammered down in some places to make it passable even for shod
horses. We were a party of four, and a very fat policeman on a very fat
horse brought up the rear.
At some distance from
Hilo there is a glorious burst of tropical forest, and then the track
passes into green grass dotted over with clumps of the pandanus and the
beautiful eugenia. In that hot, dry district the fruit was already ripe,
and we quenched our thirst with it. The ”native apple,” as it is called,
is of such a brilliant crimson colour as to be hardly less beautiful
than the flowers. The rind is very thin, and the inside is white, juicy,
and very slightly acidulated. We were always near the sea, and the surf
kept bursting up behind the trees in great snowy drifts, and every
opening gave us a glimpse of deep blue water. The coast the whole way is
composed of great blocks of very hard, black lava, more or less
elevated, upon which the surges break in perpetual thunder.
Suddenly the verdure
ceased, and we emerged upon a hideous scene, one of the many lava flows
from Kilauea, an irregular branching stream, about a mile broad. It is
suggestive of fearful work on the part of nature, for here the volcano
has not created but destroyed. The black, tumbled sea mocked the bright
sunshine, all tossed, jagged, spiked, twirled, thrown heap on heap,
broken, rifted, upheaved in great masses, burrowing in ravines of its
own making, full of broken bubble caves, and torn by a-a streams. Close
to the track, crystals of olivine lie in great profusion, and in a few
of the crevices there are young plants of a fern which everywhere has
the audacity to act as the herald of vegetation.
Beyond this desert
the country is different in its features from the rest of the island, a
green, smiling land of Beulah, varied by lines of craters covered within
and without with vegetation. For thirty miles the track passes under the
deep shade of coco palms, of which Puna is the true home; and from under
their feathery shadow, and from amidst the dark leafage of the
breadfruit, gleamed the rose-crimson apples of the eugenia, and the
golden balls of the guava. I have not before seen this exquisite palm to
advantage, for those which fringe the coast have, as compared with
these, a look of tattered, sombre, harassed antiquity. Here they stood
in thousands, young as well as old, their fronds gigantic, their stems
curving every way, and the golden light, which is peculiar to them,
toned into a golden green. They were loaded with fruit in all stages,
indeed it is produced in such abundance that thousands of nuts lie
unheeded on the ground. Animals, including dogs and cats, revel in the
meat, and in the scarcity of good water the milk is a useful substitute.
Late in the afternoon
we reached our destination, a comfortable frame house, on one of those
fine natural lawns in which Hawaii abounds. A shower at seven each
morning keeps Puna always green. Our kind host, a German, married to a
native woman, served our meals in a house made of grass and bamboo; but
the wife and children, as is usual in these cases, never appeared at
table, and contented themselves with contemplating us at a great
distance.
The next afternoon we
rode to one of the natural curiosities of Puna, which gave me intense
pleasure. It lies at the base of a cone crowned with a heiau and a clump
of coco palms. Passing among bread-fruit and guavas into a palm grove of
exquisite beauty, we came suddenly upon a lofty, wooded cliff of hard
basalt, with ferns growing out of every crevice in its ragged but
perpendicular sides. At its feet is a cleft about 60 feet long, 16 wide,
and 18 deep, full of water at a temperature of 90°. This has an absolute
transparency of a singular kind, and perpetrates wonderful optical
illusions. Every thing put into it is transformed. The rocks, broken
timber, and old cocoa-nuts which lie below it, are a frosted blue; the
dusky skins of natives are changed to alabaster; and as my companion, in
a light print holoku, swam to and fro, her feet and hands became like
polished marble tinged with blue, and her dress floated through the
water as if woven of blue light. Everything about this spring is far
more striking and beautiful than the colour in the Blue Grotto. It is
heaven in the water, a jewelled floor of marvels, ”a sea of glass,”
“like unto sapphire,” a type, perhaps, of that on which the blessed
stand before the throne of God. Above, the feathery palms rose into the
crystalline blue, and made an amber light below, and all fair and lovely
things were mirrored in the wonderful waters. The specific gravity must
be much greater that that of ordinary water, for it did not seem
possible to sink, or even be thoroughly immersed in it. The mercury in
the air was 79°, but on coming out of the water we felt quite chilly.
I like Puna. It is
like nothing else, but something about it made us feel as if we were
dwelling in a castle of indolence. I developed a capacity for doing
nothing, which horrified me, and except when we energised ourselves to
go to the hot spring, my companions and I were content to dream in the
verandah, and watch the lengthening shadows, and drink cocoa-nut milk,
till the abrupt exit of the sun startled us, and we saw the young moon
carrying the old one tenderly, and a fitful glare 60 miles away, where
the solemn fires of Mauna Loa are burning at a height of nearly 14,000
feet.
Hilo
There are many ”littles,”
but few ”mickles” here. It is among the last that two foreign gentlemen
have successfully accomplished the ascent of Mauna Loa, and the mystery
of its fires is solved. I write ”successfully,” as they went up and down
in safety, but they were involved in a series of pilikias: girths,
stirrup-leathers, and cruppers slipping and breaking, and their
sufferings on the summit from cold and mountain sickness appear to have
been nearly incapacitating. Although much excited, they are collected
enough to pronounce it ”the most sublime sight ever seen.” They, as well
as several natives who have passed by Kilauea, report it as in full
activity, which bears against the assertion that the flank crater
becomes quiet when the summit crater is active.
Another and sadder "mickle”
has been the departure of ten lepers for Molokai. The Kilauea, with the
Marshal, and Mr. Wilder, who embodies the Board of Health, has just left
the bay, taking away forty lepers on this cruise; and the relations of
those who have been taken from Hilo are still howling on the beach. When
one hears the wailing, and sees the temporary agony of the separated
relatives, one longs for ”the days of the Son of Man,” and that his
healing touch, as of old in Galilee, might cleanse these unfortunates.
Nine of the lepers were sent on board from the temporary pest-house, but
their case, though deeply commiserated, has been overshadowed by that of
the talented half-white, ”Bill Ragsdale,” whom I mentioned in one of my
earlier letters, and who is certainly the most ”notorious” man in Hilo.
He has a remarkable gift of eloquence, both in English and Hawaiian: a
combination of pathos, invective, and sarcasm; and his manner, though
theatrical, is considered perfect by his native admirers. His moral
character, however, has been very low, which makes the outburst of
feeling at his fate the more remarkable.
Yesterday, he wrote a
letter to Sheriff Severance, giving himself up as a leper to be dealt
with by the law, expressing himself as ready to be expatriated to-day,
but requesting that he might not be put into the leper-house, and that
he might go on board the steamer alone. The fact of his giving himself
up excited much sympathy, as, in his case, the signs of the malady are
hardly apparent, and he might have escaped suspicion for some time.
He was riding about
all this morning, taking leave of people, and of the pleasant Hilo
lanes, which he will never see again, and just as the steamer was
weighing anchor, walked down to the shore as carefully dressed as usual,
decorated with lets of ohia and gardenia, and escorted by nearly the
whole native population. On my first landing here, the glee-club,
singing and flower-clad, went out to meet him;—now tears and sobs
accompanied him, and his countrymen and women clung to him, kissing him
to the last moment, whilst all the foreigners shook hands as they
offered him their good wishes. He made a short speech in native, urging
quiet submission to the stringent measures which government is taking in
order to stamp out leprosy, and then said a few words in English. His
last words, as he stepped into the boat, were to all: ”Aloha, may God
bless you, my brothers,” and then the whale boat took him the first
stage towards his living grave. He took a horse, a Bible, and some legal
books with him; and, doubtless, in consideration of the prominent
positions he has filled, specially that of interpreter to the
Legislature, unusual indulgence will be granted to him.
At the weekly prayer
meeting held this evening, the medical officer gave a very pathetic
account of his interview with him this morning, in which he had
feelingly requested the prayers of the church. It was with unusual
fervour afterwards that prayer was offered, not for him only, but for
”all those who, living, have this day been consigned to the oblivion of
the grave, and for the five hundred of our fellow-subjects now suffering
on Molokai.” A noble instance of devotion has just been given by Father
Damiens, a Belgian priest, who has gone to spend his life amidst the
hideous scenes, and the sickness and death of the ghastly valley of
Kalawao.
I.L.B |
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