Nuhou, Volume I, Number 13, 8 April 1873 — Our Run to Lanai [ARTICLE]

Our Run to Lanai

Does not afford a chance to say as much as a visit to the volcano, but it is worth talking about. On Monday night of last week, we were on board the staunch old steamer Kilauea, now in fine trim, running along by the lee shore of Lanai. The strong current here and the bold rocky shore call for a careful lookout; and they get it from the faithful McGregor, who keeps watch and ward all the night long, a tireless sentinel on the bridge of the steamer who will trust to no other but his own well weather beaten eyes, so long as darkness aud danger are abroad. The shrill whistle at about four in the morning, waked the echoes among the lofty bluffs that form the heads of the Bay of Manele on the southeastern end of the island. A pull of ten minutes brought us inside our breakwater, and here being free from the break of the surf, we and our young companion landed all safe and dry at our very boat house door. Loving eyes had watched for us, and we found fat Lanai horses ready to bear us in the cool grey of the morning up the hills into the mountain valley of Palawai. It looked lovely as when it first won our heart. Round, ten miles round, level, green and smiling. The terraced and shrub adorned hills set back like a throne for a heavenly majesty; and the canopy of cloud softened the glory which the god of day shed in dawning splendors over the scene of flowered vale, and green wooded ravines and hills, But we had not much time to dwell on scenery. After an early breakfast, and partaking of a delijuicy hot chop, cut from a fat wether hung up in the mountain air for three days, which you can never get in town, we mounted our gallant gray Bense and galloped with a faithful shepherdess aeross the valley of Palawai, and through the forest of Kumoku [Kamoku] to look at flocks that fed on the western slopes, and then we galloped back to see those of the east, makmg some fifteen miles, and we found all our nibblers busy with the pasture of thc present, and not like the flock we left behind in Honolulu waiting for a better one to turn up or grow by and by. No, these had but little to say beyond a baa somewhat muffled in sound by a mouthful of grass. They gave us a short look up, with their soft sheep's eyes; and seemed to say, "Shepherd, the town is making thee grey, and yet thou lovest it. We give thee our lambs and our fleeces; but they new flock will fleece thee if it can. Return, oh, inconstant Shepherd 5 to the sheep of thy other pasture, who will not heed thy voice as we did; and leave us to our grass, baa." We noticed by the way, that the grass was very fine. Plenty of "crab grasses," or kukae puaa and kukae lio; also maniania, or Bermuda grass in streaks and patches, Spanish clover and alfalfa, new Bokhara clover, herds' grass, orcahrd grass, dandelion, lambs' quarter, pursely, sour sorrel, wild turnips and lettuce, wild mint so fragrant under the horses' hoofs, and salvias, ilimas, nasturtiums, morning glories, popolos, wild strawberries, daises, verbenas, poppies, jasmines and hundreds more of grasses and plants, either sparkling with blossom, or nodding with seed, throughtout the radiant hills and lovely vales. We listened to the click of the shears; and although they don't make as big a noise as the sugar cane rollers; yet they accomplish the chief task of the shepherd, and there is not much more to be done after them. When your fleece is clipped off it is a saleable article; and you don't

need any trains, clarifiers, or centrifugals to add to it any more cost and care. Therefore we love wool that needs only a pair of dollar and a quarter shears to make it marketable. We like it better than sugar. Wool is peace, and sugar is worry, and war too. Wool is white as innocence; but sugar is stained with blood. The true man raised lambs, the acceptable sacrifice; but his murderous brother raised Cain. After so long an absence the Shepherd had a' kindly greeting "from the people of the isle; his f onlv society of the past. "Auwe, aloha ino, oh, don't we feel glad to see you, and why have you left us? Why has the father left his children? Wa listened to your voice in the long days thatt! are past; and when you told us of our nakedness and we heeded, and we have plenty to-day. Oh, come back to Lanai, to the poor land that loves you." And we were there to listen to the last dying moans of our oldest friend, old Nahuina, who had said he would die content if he could see the Shepherd once more, and he saw him, and the dying old eyes were comforted, and the Shepherd's heart was full to overflowing. But the Shepherd hastened away on the eve of the second day from his old happy home. Because he heard a voice, the voice of the Nuhou, that like the daughter of the horse leech crieth daily! " give, give us more copy." And so that even- ! ing he was in a whaleboat and crossing over from Manele, a fifteen mile stretch of sea, to reach Lahaina in time on Thursday morning to meet the| Kilauea. Owing to calms and head breeze, he had eight hours of the sea. He had a night of it. Part of tlie time he lay on his back, and looking up to the everlasting blue he had "thick starred Orion," red bannered Aldabaran, the varied tinted Twins, the nebulous Scorpion, the many mooned Jupiter, the bright. lightcd Venus, and the star dust of the mighty Way of Heaven for his company. But part of the time, memory and talk were busy with scenes in this very sea, and on which he and one of his rowers, Lapaki, had taken a part. Some seven years ago two boats left Manele laden with sheep for Lahaina. The Shepherd in one with Punika, Hokii and Lapaki; and Kealakaa in the other with some women and children. The channel was white, aud yet they ventured. The staunch centre board bout, Talula. stood up well to tbe wind for a time, but after a while she would not beat, she drifted, fell off, and went to leeward; and Kealakaa, with a weaker boat, had drifted still farther. A fierce wind tearing out of Manele Bay now drove them, and they could not get back to their landing. Punika said they could run for Kahoolawe; but they saw a sign of distress from Kealakaa's boat drifting out to sea, and so they let their chance go by, and ran down to help the women and children. And now the sea breached them at every pitch, as they tried to hold their head to the wind; and two with buckets in hand baled with might and main to keep their boat free. But away they went to leeward of Kahoolawe, and far out to sea, and as they had no water to drink, the Shepherd felt some grip at the heart, feeling that he might not see home any more. The dark night set in, and the storm howled, and how it howls over a poor, naked, open boat, driving these helpless ones on a white wild sea, but the brave men who stood by sheet and oar never quailed, They fough| the furies of the seas like heroes. But after a time it lulled, and there was

hope; but weary, storm beaten, thirsty men had to pull all night, until the stars "went down into the western baths;" and the morn and the hot rays of the sun found them pulling far away to sea, and our islands showing only dim; yes, more than ten mortal hours of ceaseless pull with hard gripping hands, and straining backs, and hot, burning, parched mouths, but no complaint. And then a south breeze came to help them, and after eighteen hours at sea, the Shepherd and his brave boatmen reached Lahaina; and they had a thanksgiving feast, when they got home to Lanai. Again some four years ago, the Shepherd was crossing this channel with four boats laden with sheep; and a southerly gale struck them in mid channel. The boat of a neighbor, Ohua, was seen to upset; and they stood up for her to save the people. In helping this wreck one of the four boats filled and upset; and as the Shepherd went to the rescue, his boat also filled and spilled him into the sea, The native boatmen floated on the top of the waves like the poor wooly sheep, who floated away with tied feet and sad pleading eyes; but the Shephered with his heavy soaked cloathing and water-logged boots was going down, and would have gone down forevermore, had he been bald; but thanks to his grey locks, and Molokai Keawe's strong arm, he was grasped, pulled up, and saved a while for home, and country and the Nuhou. Now we are telling all this for the sake of telling something about the kanakas. And we will tell another story, told us by a whaling Captain now in port. He lost a man out of his boat, and looked for him and could not see him, but only bubbles that told where the man had gone down. He had a kanaka in the boat; and he shouted "down for him," pointing to the bubbles; and down like a swooping eagle the brown man went into the depths, and by-and-by came up with the lost man by the hair, who lived. Oh, Humane Societies, where are your gold medals? There is many a one won in these seas, won by the poor kanakas. We know their weaknesses and follies, and we shall tell them of many; but if we desert them, and go back on them, may our right hand forget its cunning, and God go back on us in our hour of need. But let us go back to our boat. We reached Lahaina, saw kind friends, and there was the Kilauea all right in time; we made a nice run to town; and we had not landed, when we were met on board by a vociferous printing fiend demanding copy for the Nuhou.