It was a clear afternoon.  The mountains, Mauna Kea and Mauna Loa, could be plainly seen from top to bottom, their giant crests rising nearly 14,000 feet above our heads, their tree and fern clad slopes seamed with deep gulches or ravines, down each of which a fertilising river ran into the sea.  Inside the reef, the white coral shore, on which the waves seemed too lazy to break, is fringed with a belt of cocoa-nut palms, amongst which, as well as on the hill-sides, the little white houses are prettily dotted.  All are surrounded by gardens, so full of flowers that the bright patches of colour were plainly visible even from the deck of the yacht.  The harbour is large, and is exposed only to one bad wind, which is most prevalent during the winter months.  Still, with good ground-tackle, there is not much to be feared, and there is one particular spot, sheltered by the Blonde reef, which is almost always safe.  Here, accordingly, we have taken up our station, though it is rather far from the town.  Sometimes it is impossible to land at Hilo itself for days together, but there is fortunately a little creek behind Cocoa-nut Island which is always accessible.

This afternoon the weather was all that could be desired, and at three o’clock we landed and went straight to Mr. Conway’s store to make arrangements for going to the volcano of Kilauea to-morrow.  Mr. Conway sent a man off at once on horseback to warn the people at the ‘Half-way House’ and at ‘Volcano House’ to make preparations to receive our party—­a necessary precaution, as visitors to the island are not numerous, and can only arrive by the monthly steamer from Honolulu.

Having arranged this matter, we went for a stroll, among neat houses and pretty gardens, to the suspension-bridge over the river, followed by a crowd of girls, all decorated with wreaths and garlands, and wearing almost the same dress that we had seen at Tahiti—­a coloured long-sleeved loose gown reaching to the feet.  The natives here appear to affect duller colours than those we have lately been accustomed to, lilac, drab, brown, and other dark prints being the favourite tints.  Whenever I stopped to look at a view, one of the girls would come behind me and throw a lei of flowers over my head, fasten it round my neck, and then run away laughing, to a distance, to judge of effect.  The consequence was that, before the end of our walk, I had about a dozen wreaths, of various colours and lengths, hanging round me, till I felt almost as if I had a fur tippet on, they made me so hot; and yet I did not like to take them off for fear of hurting the poor girls’ feelings.