WAILUA VILLAGE.

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CHAPTER XIV.

FROM LIHUE TO HANALEI.

Wailua Village.-Wailua River.-Objects of Superstition.-Strange Legends.-Falls of Wailua.-Estate of Kumalu.-Reminiscences of a Family.-The Dairy Business.-What sort of Talent is needed. -Policy of Government.-Road to Hanalei.-Settlement of Californians.—Traveling on the Sandwich Islands.

THE first village of any importance after leaving Lihue is Wailua (two waters). I was informed it was the property of KAPULE-better known by her baptismal name DEBORAH -an ex-queen, and formerly the consort of KAUMUALII, the last king of this island, who died at Honolulu in 1824.

Wailua is a small and scattered village, located on either side of the river bearing the same title. The only interest it now retains is its having once been the abode of royalty. Every thing was going rapidly to decay. The canoes that were once occupied by her majesty and her friends I found rotting in a shed that stood near the banks of the stream. The only interest the natives seem to cherish is the cultivation of their taro plantations, and in taking care of their numerous fish-ponds. It was difficult to conceive that the village had ever been honored with a "royal presence.'

Having ranged among the decaying dwellings, entered the old building used by the villagers as a house of divine worship, and exchanged a few solitary words of compliment with the girls and women— -for the uncomplimentary men returned nothing but significant grunts and sundry gesticulations—I began to make preparations to ascend the river. It was with a keen sense of disappointment that I learned that the old queen KAPULE, the steady friend, through many long years, of every visitor who had been there before me, had removed to the other side of the island. I had promised myself a sail up

the beautiful stream in one of her large canoes, that had been formed out of a solid log by a canoe-maker of a past generation. But as this gratification was impossible to procure, I submitted to the loss of it with becoming resignation.

A large canoe, however, was procured, with a sufficient number of men to paddle it, and a youth of eighteen, who spoke good English and Hawaiian. We had our little vessel launched just above the heavy sand-bar at the mouth of the stream, and quietly proceeded on our way. The mouth of the river is easily forded at low tide, but a few yards above this bar there is water enough to float a first class line-of-battle ship. The scenery up this river is second to none in the tropics. It wends its way through scores of taro plantations, orange and cocoa-nut trees, plantains and bananas. Its banks are densely clothed with the screw-pine (Tectorius et odoratissimus), and the native mamaki (Urtica argentea) and hau (Hibiscus tiliaceus), the latter of which extend their picturesque branches until they droop and kiss the bosom of the gentle waters. Now they wind through a fertile tract of alluvial deposit, and now they sweep round the base of some lofty cliff, hoary with age, and placed there, apparently, to watch over the surrounding quiet. Again, and on either hand, the unruffled bosom of the river, with the clearness of a vast mirror, reflects every object that crowds its banks with wild and romantic beauty. At every few yards the scenes change, and the eye becomes delighted with the charm of a continuous panorama.

The Wailua River stands of romance and superstition.

associated with the very genius Every object on the banks, every rock in the stream, and every cliff by which it is overlooked, has attached to it some legend of lovers, warriors, priests, and kings. About three miles above the village, and within a few rods of the left bank, there stands a singularlyshaped rock. Its form is a well-defined sugar-loaf, sixty feet high, and twenty across the base. The natives have invested it with every attribute which can constitute a ghostly character, and it is known to them by the name of Kamalau.

STRANGE LEGENDS.

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The origin of this ghost's existence-accepting the native legend as authority-is simply this:

At a very early period, the site occupied by this gray rock was, as it is now, a fine banana grove, sacred only to the gods. On numerous occasions, some daring natives, impelled by thievish propensities, appropriated the productions of this grove to their own use. At length the gods became highly incensed at the frequency and extent of these outrages, and a supreme council was held to devise measures to arrest and punish the aggressors. Kamalau, who was the presiding deity of this awful synod, was unanimously appointed supreme guardian of the sacred grove. He descended from a lofty cliff—the site of the council-on the other side of the stream, and, alighting on the spot he now occupies, transformed himself into the rock described above.

Kamalau had a favorite sister whose name was Kulai. Her bosom was filled with sorrow when she saw her brother forsake the home he had occupied so many ages. Not being able to sustain this wholesale desertion, she took a leap similar to that just taken by her brother. Whether it was owing to a want of greater elasticity, or to some other legitimate impediment, tradition does not specify; but the lovely and forsaken goddess fell into the river, and immediately became petrified for her presumption in daring to follow her brother. At this day, the superstitious natives take a peculiar pleasure in pointing the traveler's attention to this rock, submerged about two feet below the surface of the stream.

Tradition says that Kamalau succeeded in his guardianship of the sacred fruit. No more thieves ever again attempted to disturb its repose. The rock Kamalau stands to-day, and the banana grove, forming a dense mass of vegetation, that has continued to spring up from decayed matter during unnumbered generations, yet flourishes around it. No compensation, however valuable, can induce a native to visit this spot during daylight, much less in the darkness of night.

A short distance above the "Ghost" is another rock, whose sharp summit just peers up above the placid bosom of the

the stream. It is termed the "Canoe-breaking Rock," from the legend that, in early days, when this valley was densely peopled by savage warriors, the canoes of their enemies who came hither were dashed to pieces, and their rowers put to death.

Yet higher up the river, another object was pointed out to me as having been the residence of a powerful war-chief. His retreat was gained by a subterranean passage, access to which could be obtained only by diving some distance below the surface of the water. To gratify his propensities for cannibalism, he occasionally sallied forth, and seized the first luckless mortal who might chance to be passing. Numbers of persons had thus fallen victims to his cruelty before the impregnability of his den was violated. When he was put to death and an entrance was effected into his abode, it was found to be nearly filled with human bones, many of which had been converted into savage ornaments.

Volumes might easily be filled with the wild legends which, even at this day, these unlettered Hawaiians are fond of relating to every traveler; but enough has been said on these topics.

Our canoe stopped at the foot of a hill two hundred feet high. It formed one of the sides of an ancient crater, the bottom of which was composed of a rich soil covering about fifty acres. Through this wild and deep amphitheatre the picturesque stream was gliding musically over its rocky bed. And in this spot, covered as it was with taro and various kinds of foliage, there were hundreds of wild ducks, which could be easily approached within shooting distance.

Climbing the steep banks, and crossing over an elevated plain about half a mile, accompanied by my guide, I at last reached the object of my search. For some distance before arriving at the falls, I saw clouds of vapor ascending toward the sky, and heard the solemn tones of their undying music. On reaching the brink of the abyss, the sublime scene bursts at once on the vision of the astonished and delighted visitor, and for a time chains him to the spot. As my eye endeavor

ed to follow the huge sheet of water as it went hissing and foaming into the "hell of waters" below, my limbs trembled under me, and I instinctively clutched the limb of a solitary tree under which I stood.

After contemplating the scene before me in solemn silence for some minutes, I resolved on reaching the foot of the falls,

I