No one can visit the Islands without being impressed by the boundless hospitality of the sugar planters, who, with their superintendents and managers, form, away from the few towns, almost the only white inhabitants.  Hospitality so free-handed is, I suspect, found in few other parts of the world.  Though Honolulu has now a commodious hotel, the residents keep up their old habits of graceful welcome to strangers.  The capital has an excellent band, which plays in public places several times a week; and it does not lack social entertainments, parties, and dinners, to break the monotony of life.  Not only the residents of foreign birth, but a few Hawaiians also, people of education, culture, and means, entertain gracefully and frequently.

As for the common people, they are by nature or long custom, or both, as kindly and hospitable as men can be.  If you ask for lodgings at night-fall at a native hut, you are received as though you were conferring a favor; frequently the whole house, which has but one room, is set apart for you, the people going elsewhere to sleep; a chicken is slain in your honor, and for your exclusive supper; and you are served by the master of the house himself.  The native grass-house, where it has been well built, is a very comfortable structure.  It has but a single room, calico curtains serving as partitions by night; at one end a standing bed-place, running across the house, provides sleeping accommodations for the whole family, however numerous.  This bed consists of mats; and the covers are either of tapa cloth—­which is as though you should sleep under newspapers—­or of blankets.  The more prosperous people have often, besides this, an enormous bedstead curtained off and reserved for strangers; and you may see the women take out of their chests, when you ask hospitality, blankets, sheets, and a great number of little pillows for the bed, as well as often a brilliant silk coverlet; for this bed appears to be like a Cape Cod parlor—­for ornament rather than use.  The use of the dozen little pillows puzzled me, until I found that they were intended to tuck or wedge me in, so that I should not needlessly and uncomfortably roll about the vast bed.  They were laid at the sides, and I was instructed to “chock” myself with them.  On leaving, do not inquire what is the cost of your accommodations.  The Hawaiian has vague ideas about price.  He might tell you five or ten dollars; but if you pay him seventy-five cents for yourself and your guide, he will be abundantly and thoroughly satisfied.

[Illustration:  THE CRATER OF KILAUEA—­ONE PHASE.]

CHAPTER II.

HILO, WITH SOME VOLCANOES.

Hilo, as you will perceive on the map, lies on the eastern or windward side of the Island of Hawaii.  You get there in the little inter-island steamer Kilauea, named after the volcano, and which makes a weekly tour of all the Islands except far-off Kauai, which it visits but once a month.  The charge for passage is fifteen dollars from Honolulu to Hilo, and twenty-five dollars for the round trip.