oung people were
venturing on a short canter, my saddle turned completely, and I landed
on my feet in an oozy place, fortunately unhurt. A few miles short of
the half-way house,--miles are not measured by feelings there,--my horse
gave out. For some time he had walked lame in all his feet, and at last
refused to go at all. One of the young gentlemen lent me his horse, and
led mine. We reached the half-way house about five o'clock, wet through.
This was a native house, the occupants of which at once turned out, bag
and baggage, the latter consisting, however, of only a few calabashes
and pillows, and removed into a smaller hut. We found our house neatly
laid with mats, and looking comparatively inviting. The firebrands had
been carried out, leaving only the coals in the center of the floor,
surrounded by stones to protect the matting. The house was of thatched
sides and altogether looked very much like the native houses we saw on
the Isthmus.

We made a temporary curtain of a blanket, put on dry clothes, hanging
our wet ones up to dry; then laid a table-cloth on the matting, and from
buckets and calabashes brought out our dinner. Our service was of tin;
but we made a hearty meal, sitting Turk fashion on the mat. After our
dinner and tea together, the natives came in, and we had prayers. Mr.
Coan read a few verses in English and then in the native language, which
was followed by two prayers, one in English, the other in Hawaiian, by
the head of the family. We then lay down to sleep; but cockroaches,
fleas, and a strong cup of tea drove slumber from our eyelids, and there
was more sighing than sleep. The men who brought our calabashes walked
or dog-trotted it all the way barefooted, and got on faster than we did.
The calabashes are fastened one at each end of a pole four or five feet
long, and the bearers don't seem to mind the weight, balancing them
easily on their shoulders and carrying them safely. We never missed the
smallest article, and nothing was injured by jarring.

We mounted our horses the next morning with good courage, though it was
dubious weather, and we had a long ride before us. After a while, we
young folks headed the procession and cantered when we could, which was
seldom, as a great deal of the way was like riding in the bed of a
brook. It had rained so much that a puddle of water was met every few
feet. Part of our way was through a beautiful growth of gigantic ferns,
mingled with other trees. The fer