his eyes so potent is the charm exerted, he need not go away from America to enjoy such an experience.  The Rainbow Fall, in Watkins Glen (N.Y.), on the Erie railway, is an example.  It would recede into pitiable insignificance if the callous tourist drew on arithmetic on it; but left to compete for the honors simply on scenic grace and beauty—­the grand, the august and the sublime being barred the contest—­it could challenge the old world and the new to produce its peer.

In one locality, on our journey, we saw some horses that had been born and reared on top of the mountains, above the range of running water, and consequently they had never drank that fluid in their lives, but had been always accustomed to quenching their thirst by eating dew-laden or shower-wetted leaves.  And now it was destructively funny to see them sniff suspiciously at a pail of water, and then put in their noses and try to take a bite out of the fluid, as if it were a solid.  Finding it liquid, they would snatch away their heads and fall to trembling, snorting and showing other evidences of fright.  When they became convinced at last that the water was friendly and harmless, they thrust in their noses up to their eyes, brought out a mouthful of water, and proceeded to chew it complacently.  We saw a man coax, kick and spur one of them five or ten minutes before he could make it cross a running stream.  It spread its nostrils, distended its eyes and trembled all over, just as horses customarily do in the presence of a serpent—­and for aught I know it thought the crawling stream was a serpent.

In due course of time our journey came to an end at Kawaehae (usually pronounced To-a-hi—­and before we find fault with this elaborate orthographical method of arriving at such an unostentatious result, let us lop off the ugh from our word “though").  I made this horseback trip on a mule.  I paid ten dollars for him at Kau (Kah-oo), added four to get him shod, rode him two hundred miles, and then sold him for fifteen dollars.  I mark the circumstance with a white stone (in the absence of chalk—­for I never saw a white stone that a body could mark anything with, though out of respect for the ancients I have tried it often enough); for up to that day and date it was the first strictly commercial transaction I had ever entered into, and come out winner.  We returned to Honolulu, and from thence sailed to the island of Maui, and spent several weeks there very pleasantly.  I still remember, with a sense of indolent luxury, a picnicing excursion up a romantic gorge there, called the Iao Valley.  The trail lay along the edge of a brawling stream in the bottom of the gorge—­a shady route, for it was well roofed with the verdant domes of forest trees.  Through openings in the foliage we glimpsed picturesque scenery that revealed ceaseless changes and new charms with every step of our progress.  Perpendicular walls from one to three thousand feet high guarded