Towards the entrance of the valley is a very peculiar peak, called "The Needle," from its being so sharp and pointed. I wanted very much to sketch it, but started off without my materials; however grandpa had a note-book and pencil, and I knew that he would be willing to give me a leaf; but while we were off shelling, he left the valley and went back to Wailuku with Mr. Alexander, they having no time for picnicking; so what was I to do? Some of the lunch had been wrapped in white paper, which I smoothed out, and relied on some of the party for a pencil. When we got opposite "The Needle," I stopped my horse, and prepared myself for sketching, but not a pencil could be found among all the party. What do you think I did? I took a pin, and pricked the outline, and places where the heavy shading was to be, and after I got home drew the picture. This "Needle" has an historical interest. You remember I told you that the heathen temple near Kowaihae was built by Kamehameha I. before he left for the conquest of Maui. It was in this Iao valley that the people of Maui met the king's forces. A band of warriors with their families took refuge on this "Needle," which is accessible at such places only as could be easily defended against a large number. The enemy tried to starve them out, but failed. They then made believe they had left the valley, but at night hid themselves on the banks of the mountain stream where the warriors would go down to drink. As these poor deluded people came to quench their thirst, they murdered them all, men, women, and children. The stream flowed red with blood for two hours. That was heathen warfare, cruel and bloodthirsty, and this was the last battle fought on Maui; for the island became subject to the rule of Kamehameha I.
Bearing Burdens.—Page [89].
The Needle. Iao Valley.—Page [156].
At six o'clock Wednesday morning, we started on horseback for Maanea's Landing, seven miles off, on the opposite side of the bay from Kalepolepo, expecting to take a whale-boat to Lahaina; but no whale-boat was there, so we had to return, bag and baggage, to Mr. Alexander's. We rode back the distance of seven miles in an hour, which we thought was doing very well, as grandma kept her place in the cavalcade all the way.
We passed over miles of land desolated by a waterspout which broke on the mountains, rolling down a flood of water with vast quantities of earth and stone into the valley below.
"What is a waterspout?"
It is a sort of whirlwind at sea; a body of water is caught up by the wind, sometimes joining the cloud above it, and rolling on until it meets with some obstacle, when it breaks, and washes away houses and trees, or anything movable. It will sink a ship if it strikes it.