et with far up the valley, its tall
stem inclines seaward, as if pining after a more genial region.

It is a curious fact that if you deprive the cocoa-nut tree of the
verdant tuft at its head, it dies at once; and if allowed to stand
thus, the trunk, which, when alive, is encased in so hard a bark as
to be almost impervious to a bullet, moulders away, and, in an
incredibly short period, becomes dust. This is, perhaps, partly owing
to the peculiar constitution of the trunk, a mere cylinder of minute
hollow reeds, closely packed, and very hard; but, when exposed at
top, peculiarly fitted to convey moisture and decay through the
entire stem.

The finest orchard of cocoa-palms I know, and the only plantation of
them I ever saw at the islands, is one that stands right upon the
southern shore of Papeetee Bay. They were set out by the first
Pomaree, almost half a century ago; and the soil being especially
adapted to their growth, the noble trees now form a magnificent
grove, nearly a mile in extent. No other plant, scarcely a bush, is
to be seen within its precincts. The Broom Road passes through its
entire length.

At noonday, this grove is one of the most beautiful, serene, witching
places that ever was seen. High overhead are ranges of green rustling
arches; through which the sun's rays come down to you in sparkles.
You seem to be wandering through illimitable halls of pillars;
everywhere you catch glimpses of stately aisles, intersecting each
other at all points. A strange silence, too, reigns far and near; the
air flushed with the mellow stillness of a sunset.

But after the long morning calms, the sea-breeze comes in; and
creeping over the tops of these thousand trees, they nod their
plumes. Soon the breeze freshens; and you hear the branches brushing
against each other; and the flexible trunks begin to sway. Toward
evening the whole grove is rocking to and fro; and the traveller on
the Broom Road is startled by the frequent falling of the nuts,
snapped from their brittle stems. They come flying through the air,
ringing like jugglers' balls; and often bound along the ground for
many rods.

CHAPTER LXX.

LIFE AT LOOHOOLOO

FINDING the society at Loohooloo very pleasant, the young ladies, in
particular, being extremely sociable; and, moreover, in love with the
famous good cheer of old Marharvai, we acquiesced in an invitation of
his to tarry a few days longer. We might then, he said, join a small
canoe par