Beautiful though the island of Oahu may be, I soon found that I could not live there. Even in winter it was like living in a hothouse. The air was steamy with heat, and frightfully relaxing. At intervals my nose streamed with blood, and I grew sensibly thinner. Then I suffered terribly from the musquitoes; my ankles were quite swollen with their bites, and in a day or two more I should have been dead-lame. There are, besides, other tormentors—small flies, very like the Victorian sand-flies, that give one a nasty sting. I was very glad, therefore, after four days' stay at Honolulu, to learn that the 'Moses Taylor' was ready to sail for San Francisco.
FOOTNOTES:
[15] The poi is said to grow so abundantly and with so little labour in the Sandwich Islands, that it tends to encourage the natural indolence of the people. A taro pit no bigger than an ordinary drawing-room will keep a man in food a whole year. Nature is so prolific that labour is scarcely requisite in these hot climates. Thus the sun may be a great demoralizer.
[16] I find in a Californian paper the following amusing account by Mr. Mathews himself, of his appearance before a Honolulu audience:—
"At Honolulu, one of the loveliest little spots upon earth, I acted one night 'by command, and in the presence of his Majesty Kamehameha V., King of the Sandwich Islands' (not 'Hoky Poky Wonky Fong,' as erroneously reported), and a memorable night it was. On my way to the quaint little Hawaiian Theatre, situated in a rural lane, in the midst of a pretty garden, glowing with gaudy tropical flowers, and shaded by cocoa-trees, bananas, banyans, and tamarinds, I met the playbill of the evening. A perambulating Kanaka (or native black gentleman), walking between two boards (called in London, figuratively, 'a sandwich man,' but here, of course literally so), carried aloft a large illuminated white lantern, with the announcement in the Kanaka language to catch the attention of the coloured inhabitants: 'Charles Mathews; Keaka Keia Po (Theatre open this evening). Ka uku o Ke Komo ana (reserved seats, dress circle), $2.50; Nohi mua (Parquette), $1; Noho ho (Kanaka pit), 75c.' I found the theatre (to use the technical expression) 'crammed to suffocation,' which merely means 'very full,' though from the state of the thermometer on this occasion, 'suffocation' was not so incorrect a description as usual. A really elegant-looking audience (tickets 10s. each), evening dresses, uniforms of every cut and every country. 'Chieftesses' and ladies of every tinge, in dresses of every colour, flowers and jewels in profusion, satin playbills, fans going, windows and doors all open, an outside staircase leading straight into the dress circle, without lobby, check-taker, or money-taker. Kanaka women in the garden below selling bananas and pea-nuts by the glare of flaring torches on a sultry tropical moonlight night. The whole thing was like nothing but a midsummer-night's dream. And was it nothing to see a pit full of Kanakas, black, brown, and whitey-brown (till lately cannibals), showing their white teeth, grinning and enjoying 'Patter v. Clatter' as much as a few years ago they would have enjoyed the roasting of a missionary or the baking of a baby? It was certainly a page in one's life never to be forgotten."
CHAPTER XXII.
HONOLULU TO SAN FRANCISCO.
Departure from Honolulu—Wreck of the 'Saginaw'—The 'Moses Taylor'—The Accommodation—The Company on Board—Behaviour of the Ship—Death of a Passenger—Feelings on Landing in a New Place—Approach the Golden Gate—Close of the Pacific Log—First Sight of America.