CHAPTER XI

THE MIDNIGHT JOURNEY TO THE HOUSE OF THE SUN

ON our return to Mr. Colville's office, we found Messrs. Ed and Harry Benner awaiting us. They had been to a telephone-station, and had communicated with Mr. Baldwin, and arranged to start up the mountain that afternoon.

"You had better get an early start after lunch,” suggested Mr. Colville. "I have been up Haleakala, and know what you have before you. If you are caught by night on the mountain side, you will find it disagreeable. You are in the Arctic regions up there, and it is so cold that your horses will be chilled, and you will need winter clothing."

With summer all about us, flowers budding and blooming continually, and sowing and reaping the order of every day, it hardly seemed possible that the icy breath of winter was within a few hours' ride, and I could scarcely believe that snow lay on the mountains months at a time.

After arranging for a meeting at a cross-roads store somewhere on the road, the Benners took their de

parture for Haiku, where they were to procure horses for the journey.

When we had lunched, the planter told me that mules were ready for myself and guide to go up the mountain. The steed selected for me was a very sober-looking mule, called Jenny, certainly a very undesirable animal for a long journey, but not to be surpassed when it came to climbing the rugged heights of the mountain. She was as impressionless as it is possible for an animated object to be, and when I had exhausted myself using the riata on her sides and flanks, the idea seemed to just dawn on her mind that I wished her to go faster. If she entertained the notion, it soon slipped from her mind, however, for in three minutes' time she dropped back into her sleepy, jogging gait.

My guide's name was Manuel Davera, whom I found a patient, trustworthy fellow. For a few miles we went along a broad thoroughfare with red dust rising in clouds about us, and red hillocks on either side; then we entered a red lane, with a wall of red lava stone on either side. Like the day-laborer, Jenny seemed only to care to put in time. She could do more galloping in a single rod linear measure than any animal I ever saw. She had a peculiar way of making a call at every house we passed, and it required no small amount of persuasion to relieve her mind of the impression that we had reached our stopping-place.

Sometimes Manuel came alongside, and falling a little astern belabored Jenny with his riata until she "got a move on her," then we sped along the picturesque road with forests of algarobas on either side until Jenny again became impressed with the notion that we had reached our journey's end. Then Manuel again began to ply his riata, and we sped through lanes and avenues of tropical trees in their perennial verdure, through forests of hou-trees, across sparkling streams spanned by bridges. A brood of ducks in the road scampered out of the way in every direction, some barely escaping the hoofs of our animals, while an old hen near the stone wall with her frightened chickens displayed a great deal of useless nervous agitation.

All the while we were very perceptibly ascending a gradual slope, not so abrupt as to be difficult or tiresome. The road was broad, and would have been a credit to New England. The heavy loads that have to be drawn over the roads of Hawaii demand that the roads should be of the best. We passed great wagons loaded with wood and cane, or logs drawn by six, eight, ten, and sometimes fourteen yoke of cattle. The oxen drawing these ponderous loads were great, lean, raw-boned, long-horned animals, in whose eyes. the sullen fires of hatred against the human race that enslaved them seemed to eternally burn.

All the valley, as well as the gentle slopes about

Haleakala, is exceedingly fertile. On our right was a forest of hou-trees, on our left a cane-field, all indicating richness of soil, and marked with beauty.

At last we came to the "cross-roads" where the Benners were to meet us. There were two stores at the crossing, one kept by a Portuguese, the other by an enterprising Chinaman. It had been previously arranged that we should wait on the lanai of the Chinaman's store for our companions in the ascent. Tying our mules to a hitch-rack, we went upon the porch, and, seated upon packing-boxes, watched a Chinese tailor manipulate a sewing-machine. It was a monotonous entertainment, but the best that the place and occasion afforded. The minutes dragged slowly by and we cast impatient glances up and down the road hoping to see our friends approaching. After what seemed an age, a man came and told us that Mrs. Baldwin had telephoned him to ask us to wait for the young men from Honolulu, as they were coming, but had been unavoidably detained.

It is always pleasant to know that some one for whom you are waiting will come at some time, and I kicked my heels against the packing-box and

watched the Chinese tailor for half an hour longer, while Manuel sat on

on the

steps, with a look of despair settling over his face. He rolled a cigarette and smoked in silence. At the ele

vation we had already attained the wind was blowing an autumn gale, heaping the leaves which had fallen from the trees along the fence rows. "School was out," and the children, native and foreign, went by chatting as gaily as do the children of country schools in America. A few minutes later their teacher, a handsome young white woman, came riding by on horseback. She would have shocked the people of the United States by the way she bestrode her horse.

Our patience was almost worn threadbare, when the same man who had brought us information before came back to say that he had received telephonic communication from Haiku saying the Benners had had some trouble in catching their horses, but were at last mounted and on the way to join us. It was a good half-day's ride up the mountain from where we were, and it was thirty minutes after three by my watch; they could not reach us for some minutes, and it seemed that after all we should have to postpone our journey. But all things must have an end, and after a while we saw them coming down the lane.

"We are sorry to have delayed you," they said on reaching the Chinaman's store. "As we were not expected the horses had been turned out in the pasture, and we had some trouble in catching them."

I remarked that I feared we should hardly be able to reach the top of the mountain that night.