It was quite intoxicating, so new, wonderful, and solemn withal,
that I was sorry when we emerged from its shady depths upon a grove
of cocoanut trees and the glare of day. Two very poor-looking grass
huts, with a ragged patch of sugar-cane beside them, gave us an
excuse for half an hour's rest. An old woman in a red sack, much
tattooed, with thick short grey hair bristling on her head, sat on a
palm root, holding a nude brown child; a lean hideous old man,
dressed only in a malo, leaned against its stem, our horses with
their highly miscellaneous gear were tethered to a fern stump, and
Upa, the most picturesque of the party, served out tea. He and the
natives talked incessantly, and from the frequency with which the
words "wahine haole" (foreign woman) occurred, the subject of their
conversation was obvious. Upa has taken up the notion from
something Mr. S--- said, that I am a "high chief," and related to
Queen Victoria, and he was doubtlessly imposing this fable on the
people. In spite of their poverty and squalor, if squalor is a term
which can be applied to aught beneath these sunny skies, there was a
kindliness about them which they made us feel, and the aloha with
which they parted from us had a sweet friendly sound.

From this grove we travelled as before in single file over an
immense expanse of lava of the kind called pahoehoe, or satin rock,
to distinguish it from the a-a, or jagged, rugged, impassable rock.
Savants all use these terms in the absence of any equally expressive
in English. The pahoehoe extends in the Hilo direction from hence
about twenty-three miles. It is the cooled and arrested torrent of
lava which in past ages has flowed towards Hilo from Kilauea. It
lies in hummocks, in coils, in rippled waves, in rivers, in huge
convolutions, in pools smooth and still, and in caverns which are
really bubbles. Hundreds of square miles of the island are made up