When the old man met us, he wept with joy; and we were equally rejoiced to see his integrity and manhood. This branch has been replete with interesting incidents. Here, during our first coming, Elder Hawkins had been shamefully mobbed. Here Ward E. Pack, cast the devil out of two Catholic priests who had incited natives to mob him. The act of casting out had greatly amused the Kanakas.
Monday, July 25, 1864, at Waipio. We started on foot for Kawaimanu (flying water), a secluded mountain village, seldom visited by white men, a very fertile glade fifteen miles north of Waipio. We had to climb a pali two thousand feet in height: a solid rock wall almost perpendicular. When about half way to the top, we stepped to the side of the narrow trail and looked down on the sea that washed the rock below us. The sight made my head dizzy, and I hurriedly drew back. Our path led over the mountain, near some celebrated waterfalls. I wrote:
Our meal of poi, pakai, and shrimps,
>In silence we partake,
Then with a guide to lead the way,
The mountain path we take,
Narrow and winding in its course,
And difficult to find.
The vale below is growing small,
As upward still we climb.
And now great drops of sweat appear
Upon the traveler's brow;
Reminding me of summer days
When following the plow.Surprised, we meet a mountain maid,
Wild, Indian-like, and free;
Around her waist a shirt is tied—
The custom here, you see.
She meets us with a smiling face—
"Which way, strangers?" asked she.
"We're going to Kawaimanu,
The waterfalls to see."Breathless we reach the mountain crest,
Where dark winged clouds oft fly;
And seldom can the traveler pass
And keep his jacket dry.
The natives call it "Pele's tears"—
Full often doth she weep,
Till torrents gushing from her eyes
Roll thundering down the steeps.For "Pele's" home—at Kilauea,
In a burning lake of fire,
Where demons wild, in hideous form,
Are ever hovering nigh her.
But why she weeps, they cannot tell;
Unless to quench her fever,
Or else to drown the mystic yells
Of fiends who never leave her.Through forests dense our guide doth lead,
And vales of tangled fern,
So green that Neibaur's match receipt
Would fail to make them burn.
The clouds are dark'ning o'er our heads;
And yonder on our right,
The craggy peaks in vapors black
Are hidden from our sight.Hurrah, we see the waterfall—
Three thousand feet or more
From cliff to cliff three noble streams
Their foaming waters pour.
They're leaping from the battling clouds
That clothe in darkness now,
The storm-scarred cliffs, and snow-crowned peaks
Of Mauna Keas brow.
In foaming sheets, the cloud streams leap,
Sending back roar for roar,
In answer to the deafening crash
That peals from ocean's shore.The music of the universe
Is never silent here—
By day or night the sea surf's song
Rings in the peasant's ear.
And when I wake, and gaze upon
The authors of that song,
I see the ocean's vast expanse;
The mountains bulwark strong.
For endless ages they have stood:
Eternities to come,
May listen to Waimanus flood.
And the ocean's ceaseless song.
After crossing twelve deep canyons and descending a pali half a mile in height, we reached the village and were kindly entertained by the few Saints who reside here. We held three meetings, baptized three persons, and organized a branch of the Church. We remained one month on Hawaii, visiting the Saints and organizing branches to the best of our ability.
On the .5th of August we sailed for Maui, and landed on the 6th at Malia. Here we met President Joseph F. Smith, who in those days, as now, was always active, and thoughtful for others. He met us on the beach with horses, and a hearty welcome. A two hours' ride brought us to Waialuku, where I received several home letters. The cheerfulness of my family was a comfort to me. As the gentle dews of heaven give life, beauty, and freshness to the flowers of the field, so good news from loved ones cheers, animates, and strengthens my heart, fills my bosom with joy, and makes me a happier, and I hope, a better man.
Chapter 18.
Conference at Wailuku.—Return to Honolulu.—Sail for Home.—Man Overboard.
On Sunday, August 14, 1864, a conference was held at Wailuku, with sixty members present. Arrangements were made to build a new meetinghouse, Gibson having sold the old one which was built ten years ago.
President Joseph F. Smith testified that the Saints, in following Mr. Gibson's teaching, had departed from the Gospel of Jesus Christ, and had become darkened in their minds. "As soon as you manifest works meet for repentance," said he, "we will let you renew your covenants by baptism, and then we will place upon you the responsibility of preaching the Gospel to this nation."