of it—­cockroaches as large as peach leaves—­fellows with long, quivering antennae and fiery, malignant eyes.  They were grating their teeth like tobacco worms, and appeared to be dissatisfied about something.  I had often heard that these reptiles were in the habit of eating off sleeping sailors’ toe nails down to the quick, and I would not get in the bunk any more.  I lay down on the floor.  But a rat came and bothered me, and shortly afterward a procession of cockroaches arrived and camped in my hair.  In a few moments the rooster was crowing with uncommon spirit and a party of fleas were throwing double somersaults about my person in the wildest disorder, and taking a bite every time they struck.  I was beginning to feel really annoyed.  I got up and put my clothes on and went on deck.

The above is not overdrawn; it is a truthful sketch of inter-island schooner life.  There is no such thing as keeping a vessel in elegant condition, when she carries molasses and Kanakas.

It was compensation for my sufferings to come unexpectedly upon so beautiful a scene as met my eye—­to step suddenly out of the sepulchral gloom of the cabin and stand under the strong light of the moon—­in the centre, as it were, of a glittering sea of liquid silver—­to see the broad sails straining in the gale, the ship heeled over on her side, the angry foam hissing past her lee bulwarks, and sparkling sheets of spray dashing high over her bows and raining upon her decks; to brace myself and hang fast to the first object that presented itself, with hat jammed down and coat tails whipping in the breeze, and feel that exhilaration that thrills in one’s hair and quivers down his back bone when he knows that every inch of canvas is drawing and the vessel cleaving through the waves at her utmost speed.  There was no darkness, no dimness, no obscurity there.  All was brightness, every object was vividly defined.  Every prostrate Kanaka; every coil of rope; every calabash of poi; every puppy; every seam in the flooring; every bolthead; every object; however minute, showed sharp and distinct in its every outline; and the shadow of the broad mainsail lay black as a pall upon the deck, leaving Billings’s white upturned face glorified and his body in a total eclipse.  Monday morning we were close to the island of Hawaii.  Two of its high mountains were in view—­Mauna Loa and Hualaiai.

The latter is an imposing peak, but being only ten thousand feet high is seldom mentioned or heard of.  Mauna Loa is said to be sixteen thousand feet high.  The rays of glittering snow and ice, that clasped its summit like a claw, looked refreshing when viewed from the blistering climate we were in.  One could stand on that mountain (wrapped up in blankets and furs to keep warm), and while he nibbled a snowball or an icicle to quench his thirst he could look down the long sweep of its sides and see spots where plants are growing that grow only where the bitter cold of