Night drew on apace; the moon rose, and the inhabitants pretended to rest, but were shortly magnetized out of their houses, where they danced till daybreak. The sweets of that sort of thing began to cloy, and I resolved upon immediate action. Kahele was taken by the ears at the very next sunrise, and ordered to get up the mules at once. He was gone nearly all day, and came in at last with a pitiful air of disappointment that quite unmanned me; his voice, too, was sympathetic, and there was something like a tear in his eye when he a.s.sured me that the creatures had gone astray, but might be found shortly,--perhaps even then they were approaching; and the young scamp rose to reconnoitre, glad, no doubt, of an excuse for escaping from my natural but ludicrous discomfiture. It is likely that my boy Kahele would have danced till doomsday, had I not shown spleen. It is as likely, also, that the chief and all his people would have helped him out in it, had I not offered such reward as I thought sufficient to tempt greed; but, thank heaven, there is an end to everything!

On the morning of the fourth day, two travellers might have been seen struggling up the face of the great cliff that walls in the valley of Meha to the south. The one a pale-face, paler than usual, urging on the other, a dark-face, darker than was its wont. Never did animals so puzzle their wits to know whether they were indeed desired to hasten forward, or to turn back at the very next crook in the trail. We were at big odds, Kahele and I; for another idol of mine had suddenly turned to clay, and, though I am used to that sort of thing, I am never able to bear it with decent composure. On we journeyed, working at cross purposes, and getting nearer to the sky all the while, and finally losing sight of the bewitching valley that had demoralized and so nearly divorced us; getting wet in the damp gra.s.ses on the highlands, and sometimes losing ourselves for a moment in the clouds that lie late on the mountains; seeing lovely, narrow, and profound vales, wherein the rain fell with a roar like hail; where the streams swelled suddenly like veins, and where often there was no visible creature discernible, not even a bird; where silence brooded, and the world seemed empty.

A very long day's journey brought us out of the green and fertile land that lies with its face to the trade-wind; there the clouds gather and shed their rains; but all of the earth lying in the lee of the great central peak of the island is as dust and ashes,--unwatered, unfruitful, and uninteresting, save as a picture of deep and dreadful desolation. No wonder that Kahele longed to tarry in the small Eden of Meha, knowing that we were about to journey into the deserts that lie beyond it. No wonder that the shining sh.o.r.es of the valley beguiled him, when he knew that henceforth the sea would break upon long reaches of black lava, as unpicturesque as a coal-heap, the path along which was pain, and the waysides anguish of spirit; where fruit was scarce, and water brackish, and every edible dried and deceitful.

Having slept the sleep of the just,--for I felt that I had done what I could to reclaim my backsliding Kahele,--I awoke on a Sabbath morning that presented a singular spectacle. Its chief features were a glittering, metallic-tinted sea, and a smoking plain backed by naked sand-hills. The low brush, scattered thinly over the earth, tried hard to look green, but seldom got nearer to it than a dusty grey. Evidently there was no sap in those charred twigs, for they snapped like coral when you tested their pliancy. A few huts, dust-coloured and ragged, were scattered along the trail; they had apparently lost all hope, and paused by the wayside, to end their days in despair.

The _hale-pule_, or prayer-house, chief of the forlorn huts, by virtue of extraordinary hollowness and a ventilation that was only exceeded by all out-of-doors,--this prayer-house, or church, was thrown open to the public; and, to my amazement, Kahele suggested the propriety of our attending worship, even before the first conch had been blown from the rude door by the deacon himself.

We went along the chalky path that led to the front of the house, and sat in the shelter of the eaves for an hour or more. Seven times that conch was blown, and on each occasion the neighbourhood responded, though stingily; a few worshippers would issue out of the wilderness and draw slowly toward us. One or two men came on horseback, and were happy in their mood, exhibiting the qualities of their animals on the flats before us. Some came on foot, with their shoes in hand; the shoes were carefully put on at the church door, but put off again a few moments after entering the rustic pews. Dogs came, about one for every human; these lay all over the floor, or mounted the seats, or were held in the arms of the congregation, as the case might be. Children came, and played a savage version of leap-frog in the lee of the church, but they were bleak-looking youngsters, not at all like the little human vegetables that flourished in the genial atmosphere of the valley of Meha.

The conch was blown again; the most melancholy sound that ever issued from windy cavity floated up and down that disconsolate land, and seemed to be saying, in pathetic gusts, "Come to meeting! Come to meeting!"

Probably every one that could come had come; at any rate no one else followed, and, after a decent pause, the services of the morning were begun. The brief interval of ominous silence that preceded the opening was enlivened by the caprices of a fractious horse, and at least two stampedes of the canine persuasion, at which time the dogs seemed possessed of devils, and were running down in a body towards the sea, but thought better of it, and stole noiselessly back again, one after the other, just in season for the opening prayer, to which they entered with a low-comedy cast of countenance, and a depressed tail.

That prayer bubbled out of the savage throat like a clear fountain of vowels. The dignity of the man was impressive, and his face the picture of devotion; his deportment, likewise, was all that could be desired in any one, under the circ.u.mstances. Either he was a rare specimen of the very desirable convert from barbarism, or he was a consummate actor; I dare not guess which of the two beguiled me with his grave and euphonious prayer.

I regret to state that, during the energetic expounding of the Scriptures, a few of the congregation forgot themselves and slept audibly; a few arose and went under the eaves to smoke; children went down on all-fours, and crawled under the pews in chase of pups as restless and incorrigible as themselves. At a later period, some one announced an approaching schooner, and the body of the house was unceremoniously cleared, for a schooner was as rare a visitor to that part of the island as an angel to any quarter of the globe. Further ceremony was out of the question, at least until the excitement had subsided; the parson, with philosophical composure, precipitated his doxology, and we all walked out into the dreary afternoon to watch the schooner blowing in toward sh.o.r.e.

The wind was rising; white clouds scudded over us; transparent shadows slid under us; the whole earth seemed unstable, and life scarcely worth the living. Along the dead sh.o.r.e leaped the sea, in a careless, dare-devil fashion; hollow rocks spouted great mouthfuls of spray contemptuously into the air; columns of red dust climbed into the sky, reeling to and fro as they pa.s.sed over the bleak desert toward the sea on the opposite side of the island. These dust-chimneys were continually moving over the land so long as the wind prevailed, which was for the rest of that afternoon, to my certain knowledge. In fact, the gale increased every hour; sheets of spray leaped over the rocky barriers of the sh.o.r.e, and matted the dry gra.s.s, that hissed like straw whenever a fresh gust struck it.

One tattered cocoa-palm, steadfast in its mission, though the living emblem of a forlorn hope, wrestled with the tempest that threw all its crisp and rattling leaves over its head like a pompon, and fretted it till its slender neck twisted as though it were being throttled. The thatched house seemed about to go to pieces, and every timber creaked in agony; yet we gathered in its lee, and awaited the slow approach of the schooner. Near sh.o.r.e she put about, and seemed upon the point of scudding off to sea again. For a moment our hearts were in our throats; we were in danger of missing the sensation of the season; new faces, new topics of conversation, and, perhaps, something good to eat, sent thither by Providence, who seldom forgets His children in the waste places, though I wonder that He lets them lose themselves so often.

The schooner rocked on the big rollers for half an hour; a small boat put off from her, with some dark objects seated in it; out on the great rollers the little shallop rocked, sometimes hidden from view by an intervening wave, sometimes thrown partly out of the water as it balanced for a moment on the crest of a breaker, but gradually drawing in toward a bit of beach, where there was a possible chance of landing, in some shape or other. A few rods from sh.o.r.e, three dusky creatures deliberately plunged overboard and swam toward us. We rushed in a body to welcome them,--two women old residents of the place, who came out of the sea wailing for joy at their safe return to a home no more inviting than the one whose prominent features I have sought to reproduce. Down they sat, not three feet from the water, that bubbled and hissed along the coa.r.s.e sand, and lifted up their voices in pitiful and impressive monotones, as they recounted in a savagely poetic chant their various adventures since they last looked upon the beloved picture of desolation that lay about them.

The third pa.s.senger--a youngster--came to land when he had got tired of swimming for the fun of it, and, once more upon his native heath, he seemed at a loss to know what to do next, but suffered himself to be vigorously embraced by nearly everybody in sight, after which he joined his companions with placid satisfaction, and capered about as naturally as though nothing unusual had happened.

Off into the windy sea sped the small schooner, bending to the breeze as though it were a perpetual miracle that brought her right-side-up every once in a while. Back to the deserted prayer-house our straggling community wended its way; everything that had been said before was said again, with some embellishments. It was beginning to grow tiresome. I longed to plunge into the desert that stretched around, seeking some possible oasis where the fainting spirit might rea.s.sure itself that earth was beautiful and life a boon.

Kahele agreed with me that this sort of thing was growing tiresome. He knew of a good place not many miles away; we could go there and sleep.

It presented a church and a good priest, and other inducements of an exceedingly proper and unexceptionable character. The prospect, though uninviting, was sufficient to revive me for the moment, and daring that moment we mounted, and were blown away on horseback. The wind howled in our ears; sand-clouds peppered us heavily; small pebbles and grit cut our faces; heavier gusts than usual changed earth, sea, and sky into temporary chaos. The day waned, so did our spirits, so did the life of our poor beasts. In the distance, the church of Kahele's prophecy stood out like a small rock in a land than which no land I wot of can be wearier. The sun fell toward the sea; the wind subsided, though it was still l.u.s.ty and disagreeable.

We entered the church, having turned our disheartened beasts into paddock, and found a meagre and late afternoon session, seated upon mats that covered the earthen floor. A priest strove to kindle a flame of religious enthusiasm in our unnatural hearts, but I fear he sought in vain. The truth was, we were tired to death; we needed wholesome soup, savoury meats, and steaming vegetables, to humanize us. I didn't want to be a Christian on an empty stomach. The wind began to sigh, after its pa.s.sion was somewhat spent; sand sifted over the matting with a low hiss; and the dull red curtains, that stretched across the lower half of the windows, flapped dolefully. Overhead, the wasps had hung their mud-baskets, and the grey atmosphere of everything was depressing in the extreme. Service was soon over; the people departed across the windy moors, with much fluttering of gay garments. A horse stood at pasture, with his head down, his back to the wind, and his tail glued to his side,--a picture of sublime resignation. A high mound, with a sandstone sepulchre built in the face of it, cut off half of the very red sunset, while a cactus-hedge, starred with pale pink blossoms, ran up a low hill, and made silhouette pictures against the sky.

I turned to watch a large b.u.t.terfly, blown over in the late gale,--stranded, as it were, at the church porch, and too far gone to set sail again; a white sea-bird wheeled over me in big circles, and screamed faintly; something fell in the church with a loud echo,--a prayer-book, probably; and then the priest came out, fastened the door of the deserted sanctuary, and the day's duties were done. We had nothing to do but follow him to his small frame dwelling, where the one little window to the west seemed to be set with four panes of burnished gold, and some homely household shrubs in his garden-plat shivered, and blossomed while they shivered, but looked like so many widows and orphans, the whole of them.

At the hospitable board life began afresh. Another day, and we should again approach the borders of the earthly paradise that glorified the opposite side of the island. Kahele's eyes sparkled; my heart leaped within me; I felt that there was a charm in living, after all; and the moment was a critical one, for had the lad begged me to return with him to the beguilements of barbarism, I think it possible that I might have consented. But he didn't! He was the pink of propriety, and an honour to his progenitors. He said a brief grace before eating, prayed audibly before retiring, was patient to the pitch of stupidity, and amiable to the verge of idiocy.

At last, I began to see through him. Another four-and-twenty hours, and he would be restored to the arms of his guardians; the sweet lanes of Lahaina would again blossom before him; and all that he thought to be excellent in life would know him as it had known him only a few weeks before. It was time that he had again begun to walk the straight path, and he knew it. He was Kahele, the two-sided; Kahele, the chameleon, whose character and disposition partook of the colour of his surroundings; who was pious to the tune of the church-bell, yet agile as any dancer of the lascivious _hula_ at the thump of the tom-tom. He was a representative worthy of some consideration; a typical Hawaiian whose versatility was only excelled by the plausibility with which he developed new phases of his kaleidoscopic character. He was very charming, and as diverting in one _role_ as another. He was, moreover, worthy of much praise for his skill in playing each part so perfectly that to this hour I am not sure which of his dispositions he excelled in, nor in which he was most at home.

Kahele, adieu! I might have upbraided thee for thy inconstancy, had I not been accused of that same myself. I might have felt some modic.u.m of contempt for thee, had thy skin been white; but under the cover of thy darkness sin hid her ugliness, and thy rich blood leaped to many generous actions that a white-livered sycophant might not aspire to. I can but forgive all, and sometimes long a little to live over the two sides of you,--extremes that met in your precious corporosity, and made me contented with a changeful and sometimes cheerless pilgrimage; for I knew, boy, that if I went astray you would meet me upon the highest moral grounds; and, though I could not rely upon you, somehow you came to time when least expected, and filled me with admiration and surprise,--a sentiment which time and absence only threaten to perpetuate.

LOVE-LIFE IN A LANAI.

IT was the witching hour of sunset, and we sat at dinner with tearful eyes over the Commodore's curry. You see the Commodore prided himself on the strength of this identical dish, and kept a mahogany-tinted East-Indian steward for the sole sake of his skill in concocting the same.

We dined, as usual, in the Commodore's unrivalled _Lanai_,--the very thought of which is a kind of spiritual feast to this hour,--and while we sat at his board we heard for the twentieth time the monotonous recital of his adventures by flood and field. Like most sea-stories, his narratives were ever fresh, as though they had been stowed away in brine, were fished out of the vasty deep expressly for the occasion, and put to soak again in their natural element as soon as we had tasted their quality.

The Commodore was a roaring old sea-dog, who had been cast ash.o.r.e somewhere in the early part of the century; and finding himself in quarters more comfortable than his wildest fancy dared to paint, he resolved to end his amphibious days on that strip of shining beach, and never more lose sight of land until he should slip his cable for the last time, and sail into undiscovered seas. Meanwhile, he entertained his friends at Wai-ki-ki, a kind of tropical Long Branch a few miles out of Honolulu; and the grace with which he introduced Jack-ash.o.r.e to the dreamy twilight of his _Lanai_ is one of Jack's deathless memories. We met the Commodore in the interesting character of Jack-ash.o.r.e, and with uncovered heads and hearts full of emotion entered the _Lanai_.

And now for a word to the uninitiated concerning the _Lanai_ in question. Off there in the Pacific, under the vertical sun, all shadow is held at a premium. There are stationary caravans of cocoa-trees, that seem to be looking for their desert home,--weird, slender trees, with tattered plumes, and a hopeless air about them, as though they were born to sorrow, but meant to make the best of it. Still, these fine old palms cast a thin shadow, about the size and shape of a colossal spider, and there is no comfort in trying to sit in it. There are likewise trees with more foliage, and vines that run riot and blossom themselves to death; but somehow the sharp arrows of sunshine dart in and sting a fellow in an unpleasant fashion, and nothing short of a good thatch is to be relied upon. So out from the low eaves of the Commodore's cottage, on the seaward side, there was a dense roof of leaves and gra.s.s, that ran clear to the edge of the sea, and looked as though it wanted to go farther; but the Commodore knew it was useless to attempt to roof over that inst.i.tution. There was a leafy tapestry hanging two feet below the roof on the three sides thereof, and from the floor of the inclosure rose a sort of trellis of woven rushes that hedged us in to the waist.

There was a wicker gate, and an open s.p.a.ce between the leafy stalact.i.te and stalagmite barricade for ventilation and view, and everywhere there was a kind of semi-twilight that seamed crammed full of dreams and delicious indolence,--and this is the Hawaiian _Lanai_!

Of course the Commodore always dined in his _Lanai_. It was like taking curry on the quarter-deck of the "Whatyoucallher," in the dead calm of the Indian seas; and when that mahogany steward entered with turban and mock-turtle,--he always looked to me like a full-blooded snake-charmer,--I had the greatest difficulty in restraining myself, for it seemed to me incredible that any Jack-ash.o.r.e could dine in a _Lanai_ with his Excellency, and not rise between each savory course to make a dozen profound _salaams_ to the fattish gentleman at the head of the table, who was literally covered with invisible naval b.u.t.tons, and the hallucination increased as the dinner-courses multiplied.

At this stage,--just as the snake-charmer was entering with something that seemed to have come to an untimely end in wine-sauce,--at this stage the Commodore turned to us as though he were about to give some order that we might disregard at the peril of our lives,--these sea-dogs never quite outgrow that sort of thing. "Gentlemen," said he, casting a watchful and suspicious eye over the weather-bow, "there is to be a _Luou_--a native feast--in the adjoining premises. Will you do me the honour to accompany me thither after we have lighted our cigars?"

I forget what answer we made; but then dinner was well on toward dessert, and our answer was immaterial. We had our orders, couched in courteous language, and we were thankful for this consideration; moreover, we were wild to see a native feast! There is a peculiar charm in obeying our superiors, when we happen, by some dispensation of Divine Providence, to be exactly of the same mind.

Black coffee was offered us, in cups of the pattern of gull's-eggs. By this time all the sky was saffron, all the sea a shadow of saffron; and in the golden haze that lay between, a schooner with a piratical slant to her masts swam by, beyond the foam that hissed along the reef. It was a wonderful picture, but it came in between the courses of the Commodore's dinner as though it were nothing better than a panel-painting in the after-cabin of the "Whatyoucallher." However, as she swung in toward the mouth of the harbour, and pa.s.sed a bottle of Burgundy in safety, but seemed in imminent danger of missing stays abreast of an enormous pyramid of fruit,--from the Commodore's point of sight, you know,--the old gentleman lost his temper, and gave an order in such peremptory terms that I cheerfully refrain from reproducing it on this occasion. To cover our confusion, we immediately adjourned to the native feast.

Hawaiian feast days are not set down in the calendar. Somebody's child has a birthday, or there is a new house that needs christening; or perhaps a church is in want, and the feast can net a hundred or two dollars for it,--since all the eatables in such cases are donated, and the eaters enter to the feast with the payment of one dollar per head.

Our feast was not sanctified; a chief of the best blood was in the humour to entertain his friends, countrymen, and lovers. We belonged to the first order; or, rather, the Commodore was his friend, and we speedily became as friendly as possible. As we entered the premises, it appeared to us that half the island was under cover; for limitless _Lanais_ seemed to run on to the end of time in bewitching vistas.

Numberless lanterns swung softly in the evening gale. A mult.i.tude of white-robed native girls pa.s.sed to and fro, with that inimitable grace which I have always supposed Eve copied from the serpent and imparted to her daughters, who still affect the modern Edens of the earth. Young Hawaiian bloods, clad in snow-white trousers and ballet-shirts, with wreaths of _mailne_ around their necks, and ginger-flowers in their hair, grouped themselves along the evergreen corridors, and looked unutterable things without any noticeable effort on their part.

Through the central corridor, under a long line of lanterns, was spread the corporeal feast, and on either side of it, in two ravenous lines, sat, tailor-fashion, the hungry and the thirsty. It is useless to attempt an idealization of the Hawaiian eater. He simply devours whatever suits his palate, as though he were a packing-case that needed filling, and the sooner filled the more creditable the performance. But the amount of filling that he is equal to is the marvel; and the patient perseverance of the man, so long as there is a crumb left, is something that I despair of reconciling with any known system of physiology. The mastication began early in the afternoon. It was eight p.m. when we looked in upon the orgie, and the bones were not all picked, though they seemed likely to be before mid night.

"Will you eat?" said the host. It was not etiquette to decline, and we sat at the end of the _Lanai_, with nameless dishes strewn about us in hopeless confusion. We dipped a finger into pink _poi_, and took a pinch of baked dog. We had limpits with rock-salt; kukui-nuts roasted and pulverized; and the pale, quivering bits of fish-flesh, not an hour dead, and still cool with the native coolness of the sea. It was a fishful feast, any way; and not even the fruits or the flowers could entirely alleviate the inward agony consequent upon a morsel of raw fish, swallowed to please our host.

There was music at the farther end of the palm-leaf pavilion, and thither we wended our way. The inner court was festooned with flags, and covered with a large mat. Upon the mat sat, or reclined, several chiefesses. I am never able to account for the audacious grace of these women, who throw themselves upon the floor and stretch their supple limbs like tigresses, with a kind of imperial scorn for your one-horse proprieties. Their voluminous light garments scarcely concealed the ample curves of their bodies, and the marvellous creatures seemed to be breathing to slow music, while their slumberous eyes regarded us with a gentle indifference that was more tantalizing than any other species of coquetry that I have knowledge of.

At one side of the enclosure sat a group of musicians, tw.a.n.ging upon native harps, and beating the national calabash. Song after song was sung, pipe after pipe was smoked, and bits of easy and playful conversation filled the intervals. The evening waned. The eaters and drinkers were still unsatisfied, because the eatables and drinkables were not exhausted; but the moon was high and full, and the reef moaned most musically, and seemed to invite us to the sh.o.r.e.

The great charm of a native feast is the entire absence of all formality. Every man is privileged to seek whom his heart may most desire, and every woman may receive him or reject him as her spirit prompts. We noticed that the Commodore was uneasy. He was as plump as a seal, and the crowd oppressed him. We resolved to get the old gentleman out of his misery, and proposed an immediate adjournment to the beach.

The inner court was soon deserted, and our little party--which now embraced, figuratively, several magnificent chiefesses, as well as the primitive Hawaiian orchestra--moved in silence toward the sea. The long, curving beach glistened and sparkled in the moonlight. The sea, within the reef, was like a tideless river, from whose pellucid depths, where the coral spread its wilderness of branches, an unearthly radiance was reflected. A fleet of slender canoes floated to and fro upon the water, and beyond them the creaming reef flashed like a girdle of silver, belting us in from all the world.

The crowning luxury of savage life is the mult.i.tudinous bondsman who antic.i.p.ates your every wish, and makes you blush at your own poverty of invention by his suggestions of unimagined joys. Mats--broad, sweet, and clean--lay under foot, and served our purpose better than Persian carpets. The sea itself fawned at our feet, and all the air was shining and soft as though the moon had dissolved in an ecstasy, and nothing but a snap of cold weather could congeal her again. Wherever we lay, pillows were mysteriously slipped under our heads, and the willingest hands in the world began an involuntary performance of the _lomi-lomi_. Let me not think upon the _lomi-lomi_, for there is none of it within reach; but I may say of it that, before the skilful and magnetic hands of the manipulator are folded, every nerve in the body is seized with an intense little spasm of recognition, and dies happy. A dreamless sleep succeeds, and this is followed by an awakening into new life, full of proud possibilities.

We were _lomi-lomied_ to the murmurs of the reef, and during the intervals of consciousness saw an impromptu rehearsal of the "Naiad Queen," in operatic form. The dancing-girls, being somewhat heated, had plunged into the sea, and were complaining to the moon in a chorus of fine harmonies. History does not record how long their sea-song rang across the waters. I know that we dozed, and woke to watch a silver sail wafted along the vague and shadowy distance like a phantom. We slept again, and woke to a sense of silence broken only by the unceasing monody of the reef; slept and woke yet again in the waning light, for the moon had sunk to the ragged rim of an old crater, and seemed to have a large piece bitten out of her glorious disc. Then we broke camp by the sh.o.r.e,--for the air was a trifle chilly,--and withdrew into the seclusion of the Commodore's _Lanai_, where we threw ourselves into hammocks and swung until daybreak.

In those days we fed on lotus-flowers. Jack-ash.o.r.e lives for the hour only, and the very air of such a lat.i.tude breathes enchantment. I believe we bathed before sunrise, and then went regularly to bed and slept till noon. Such were the Commodore's orders, and this is our apology. There was a breakfast about one p.m., at which we were permitted to appear in undress. The Commodore set the example by inviting us to the table in an extraordinary suit of cream-coloured silk, that was suggestive of _panjamas_, but might have been some Oriental regalia especially designed for morning wear. He looked like a ship under full sail, rocking good-naturedly in a dead calm. The Commodore was excessively formal at first sight,--that is, just before breakfast,--but his heart warmed toward mankind in general, and his guests in particular, as the meal progressed. Some people never are themselves until they have broken their fast; they are so cranky, and seem to lack ballast.

The snaky steward sloughed his clothes twice a day. He was a slim, noiseless, gliding fellow at breakfast, but he was positively gorgeous at dinner. Of course, the Commodore had ordered this nice distinction in the temporal affairs of his servant, for he kept everything about the place in ship-shape, even to the flying of his private signal from sunrise to sunset at the top of a tall staff, that rivalled the royal ensign floating from a similar alt.i.tude not a quarter of a mile distant.

His Majesty has a summer palace in Wai-ki-ki, and it has been whispered that the Commodore refused to recognize him, and never dipped his colours as the King cantered by in a light buggy drawn by a pair of spanking bays.

After breakfast, the cribbage-board was produced, and for three mortal hours the Commodore kept his peg on the steady march. At cribbage the old gentleman was expected to lose his temper. He stormed with the arrogance of a veteran card-player, than whom no man is supposed to make himself more disagreeable on short notice. Lieutenant Blank was usually the victim, but he deserved it. The true story of Lieutenant Blank--his name is suppressed out of consideration for his family--is so common in tropical seaports that I do not hope in this epitome to offer anything novel. The Lieutenant was a typical Jack-ash.o.r.e. He had twice the mail that came to the rest of us, and he read his love-letters to the mess with a gusto. He boasted fresh victims in every port, and gloried in his lack of principle. It did not surprise me at all that the Lieutenant had _shaken_ his mother. In fact, under the circ.u.mstances, I think his mother would have been justified in shaking him, if she could have got her hands on him. In the love-light of the Commodore's _Lanai_, life was very precious to this particular Jack-ash.o.r.e. To him a _Lanai_ was a city of refuge, provided by an all-wise Commodore for those fascinating lieutenants who were pursued by the chief women of the tribe; yet he loved to loiter without the walls, during the off-hours from cribbage.

No man so relished the _lomi-lomi_; no man, except the native-born, so clamoured for the _hula-hula_; and no man, not even the least of these, forgot himself to the same alarming extent whenever there was the slightest provocation.

Of course, he met a chiefess and surrendered; of course, he meant in time to crush the heart that pulsated with the blood-royal. He simpered and tried to turn semi-savage, and was simply ridiculous. He made silly speeches in the worst possible Hawaiian, and afforded unlimited amus.e.m.e.nt to the women, who are wiser in their dark skins than the children of light. He tried to eat _poi_, and ruined his linen. He suffered himself to be wreathed and garlanded, until he was the picture of a sacrificial calf. He gave gifts, and babbled in his sleep. But in the hour when his triumph seemed inevitable he was beautifully snubbed by his supposed victim. The syrens of Scylla are a match for any mariner who sails with unwadded ears. The Lieutenant cannot hope to hear the last of that adventure, though the subject is never broached by himself.

If we had dwelt a thousand years with the Commodore, and sipped the elixir of life from the gourd that hung by the door of the wine-closet, I suppose we should have had the same daily and nightly experiences to go through with, barring a slight variation in the matter of moonshine.

But there were orders superior to the Commodore's, since he was off active duty, and these orders demanded our reappearance on shipboard at an early hour of the day following. There was a farewell round of everything that had been introduced during our brief stay at Wai-ki-ki,--dances, songs, sea-baths, and flirtations. The moon rose later, and was but a shadow of her former self; but the stars burned brightly, and we could still trace the noiseless flight of the solitary sail that pa.s.sed like a spirit over the dusky sea.

I know that in after years, whenever I come within sound of surf under the p.r.i.c.kly sunshine, my fancy will conjure up a picture of that gra.s.s cottage on the slope of a dazzling beach, and the portly form of the old Commodore stored snugly in the s.p.a.cious hollow of a bamboo settee, drawn up on the stocks, as it were, for repairs, with a bandanna spread over his face, and a dark-eyed crouching figure beside him, fighting mosquitoes with a tuft of parrot-feathers. No wonder that a body-guard of some kind was necessary, for I believe that the old Commodore's veins ran nothing but wine, and mosquitoes are good tasters.

The picture would not be complete without the attendant houris, and with their image comes an echo of barbarous chants and the monotonous thump of the tom-tom; of swaying figures; of supple wrists; of slender, lascivious hands tossed skilfully in the air, seeking to interpret their pantomimic dances, and doing it with remarkable freedom and grace. I shall hear that one song, like an echo eternally repeated,--the song that was sung by all the lips that had skill to sing, in every valley under the Hawaiian sun. I remember it as a refrain that was first raised in Honolulu, but for the copyright of which the respective residents of Hawaii and Nihau would willingly lay down their lives with the last words of the song rattling in their throats.