Messrs. Bishop and Thurston went over to Pueo, on the western shore, and Mr. Thurston preached to about 100 of the people at the house of Kapapa, the head-man. When the service was ended, Kapapa accompanied them to the east side of the bay, in the double canoe which had been hired to convey us to Laupahoehoe.

As we intended to leave Waiakea early in the morning, I paid a farewell visit to Maaro this evening. The chief seemed more indisposed than when I last saw him, was restless, and apparently in much pain. After spending some time in religious conversation with Maaro and his household, I took leave of them, and enjoyed a pleasant walk back through the lonely village. The noise of the rolling surf on the distant beach was occasionally heard; the passing breeze caused a frequent rustling among the slender leaves of the cocoa-nut groves; while the rapid stream rippled over its pebbly bed in several places close by the path. The glimmering lights in the native huts shed their enlivening rays through the thick foliage of the surrounding gardens, and the beating of the drum, and the sound of the hura, with transient intervals between, broke upon the ear from several directions. These last, though far more agreeable than the drunken hallo, the savage warclothing. The natives carried to the ship, which was lying off and on, five or six large ones in a canoe; they were hoisted in, when, instead of returning the stipulated articles, the captain threw down into their canoe a bundle of old iron, principally iron hoops, cast loose the rope by which they held on to the ship, and sailed away. The natives returned to the shore; a council was held, in which it was agreed to take revenge on the first ship that should arrive. In the interim, however, a missionary from one of the Society Islands, whom they long knew, visited them, and being made acquainted with the circumstances, dissuaded them from their purpose, promised to make up their loss, and thus, in all probability, the death of several innocent persons was prevented.

cry, or the horrid yell from the mysterious and dark heiau, I yet could not but hope would soon be exchanged for the words of inspired truth, read aloud from the holy scriptures, the cheerful hymn of praise, or the solemn language of family devotion, so frequently heard from the lowly cottage, during an evening walk through the happy villages of the Society Islands.

At day-break on the 14th, when we had conducted our morning worship with the people who crowded our house, we made arrangements for our departure. Mr. Harwood remained, to return to Oahu in the brig Inore, lying at anchor in the bay, as he would thereby be enabled to transact some business for the mission, and also avoid travelling over the ravines of Hiro and Hamakau.

Soon after six A. M. we embarked on board our canoe, and passed over the reef to the deep water on the western side of the bay. The weather was calm, and the men laboured with their paddles till about eight, when the maranai (east wind) sprung up, and wafted us pleasantly along the shore. We found our double canoe very convenient, for it had a pora (or stage) raised in the middle, which provided a comfortable seat, and also kept our packages above the spray of the sea. The pora is formed by tying slight poles to the iäko, or cross pieces that connect the two canoes together, from the foremost iäko to the one nearest the stern. The cross pieces are not straight, but bent like a bow, and form an arch between the two canoes, which raises the pora or stage at least two feet higher than the sides of the canoe. When the breeze sprang up, four of the men laid down their paddles and attended to the sail, while one man sat in the stern of each canoe with a

large paddle to steer. Our canoe, though made of heavy wood, was thin, and consequently light, and, as the wind increased, seemed at a rapid rate to skim along the tops of the waves.

The canoes of the Sandwich Islands appear eminently calculated for swiftness, being long, narrow, generally light, and drawing but little water. A canoe is always made out of a single tree; some of them are upwards of seventy feet long, one or two feet wide, and sometimes more than three feet deep, though they are seldom in length more than fifty feet. The body of the canoe is generally covered with a black paint, made by the natives with various earthy and vegetable materials, in which the bark, oil, and burnt nuts of the kukui tree form the principal ingredients. On the upper edge of the canoe is sewed, in a remarkably neat manner, a small strip of hard white wood, from six to eight inches in width, according to the size and length of the canoe. These strips meet and close over the top at both stem and stern, and shoot off much water that would otherwise enter the canoe. All the canoes of these islands are remarkably strong and neatly made; and, though not so large as those of New Zealand, the Society Islands, or some of the other islands to the southward, are certainly better made, and would probably paddle or sail faster than any of them. One man will sometimes paddle a single canoe faster than a good boat's crew could row a whale-boat. Their tackling is simple and convenient; the mast generally has a notch cut at the lower end, and is placed on one of the cross pieces to which it is tied; the sails they now use, are made of mats, and cut in imitation of the sprit sails of foreign boats, which, they say, they find much better

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than the kind of sail they had when first visited by foreigners. When sailing with a fresh breeze, the ropes from the lower corners of the sails are always loosened, and held in the hands of persons whose only business it is to keep them properly trimmed. Their paddles, which are large and strong, are generally four or five feet long, have an oval-shaped blade and round handle, and are made of the same hard and heavy wood employed in building their canoes. They are not handsome, and their weight must make paddling very laborious. Neither the canoes nor paddles of the Sandwich Islanders are carved, like those of many islands in the Pacific. Their canoes are, nevertheless, neat, and sometimes handsome.

The country, by which we sailed, was fertile, beautiful, and apparently populous. The numerous plantations on the eminences and sides of the deep ravines or valleys, by which it was intersected, with the streams meandering through them into the sea, presented altogether a most agreeable prospect. The coast was bold, and the rocks evidently volcanic. We frequently saw the water gushing out of hollows in the face of the rocks, or running in cascades from the top to the bottom.

After sailing very pleasantly for several hours, we approached Laupahoehoe: although we had come upwards of twenty miles, and had passed not less than fifty ravines or valleys, we had not seen a spot where we thought it would be possible to land without being swamped; and although we knew we had arrived at the end of our voyage, we could discover no place by which it seemed safe to approach the shore, as the surf was beating violently, and the wind blowing directly towards

the land. However, when we came within a few yards of the surf, we perceived an opening in the rocks, just wide enough to admit our canoe. Into this our pilots steered with uncommon address and precision; and before we could look round, we found our canoe on a sandy beach a few yards long, entirely defended by rocks of lava from the rolling surf on the outside.

It was one P. M. when we landed, and walked up to the house of the head-man, where we had a few fish and some potatoes, that we had brought with us, prepared for dinner. After the people of the place had been spoken to on the subject of religion, they said they had heard there were missionaries living at Oahu, teaching the king to read, and write, and pray. They had also heard of Jehovah, but not of Jesus Christ. It was compassionate in the great God, they added, to think of them, and send his word among them.

After remaining an hour or two, we proposed to proceed, but could not prevail on Makoa to go any further that night. He said we had come far enough for one day, and had better stay till the morning. He also complained of being tired with bailing out the canoe. We knew this was only an excuse, and that the principal reason why he wished to stop was because the head-man of the place had invited us to remain, and had told us that if we would spend the night there, he would have a hog and some taro cooked. Makoa could not agree to lose the benefit of this offer; but as we were refreshed, and thought it best to proceed, we thanked the chief for his kindness, and, finding our guide determined to stay there, we took each a blanket to cover us at night, and resumed our journey.

Leaving Laupahoehoe, we ascended the north side of