A NATIVE HAWAIIAN VILLAGE.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 12063, 19 July 1917, Page 8

A NATIVE HAWAIIAN VILLAGE.

Tf ever you journey to ihe Hawaiian Islands, you will need to look long and hard, beforo yo.i ran come unon a real natives v.illage. ff you are\ very persevering, willing, to endure rough sea voyages to tho various islands of tho group, and then to take motor trips far up into tho mountains or through wide valleys, you perhaps will at lasu.<ind what, you are seeking. X*ow and then, springing up beneath the coco-palms, usually beside the be.ach upon which r;iant-, waves Know. there ;s st ill a genuin'o Hawaiian village, of grass huts. Down by the' shore \ou will see fish-nots spread out trr dry and strange outngger catioes drawn high up on tho sands. between the road and the surf, you will see, dense groves of cocopalms, with their roots burkd deep in the. vands. .Beyond the road, the native grass huts straggle along in an uneven line. " Little black prgs play tag round voir legs, and the infants of Kaimu run out, not to chide the pigs, but to stare. There is no purer colour in the world than this: the green palms fringing tho brilliant blue ocean; the big Pacific, surf breaking white and clamorous on coal-black volcanic, sands. "You scarcely need a red ' holok'.i ' in the middle distance, or the-sea-washed grey of f.ho outrigger on the shore. An:], a mil ( \ beyond, Kalapana—desolate! beyond emptiness, lirtl» grey houses sot round a treeless open common, with a little shut churc'i in 011 a corner."

This is a- description Avritten by Ivather.ine. Fulle/ton Gorould, who has re-r-ivUly made a. book of her of the Hawaiian Isla.nds. You will want to know that, a " holoku " is a sort cf Mother Hubbard gown, usually having a train and rtifiles ; these, gowns have long been worn by Hawaiian women, and Eomo believe that, they were introduced into the islands by the wives of the missionaries. The saniy writer gives us this account, of her. .long journey to a, distant rpot, where. iinaJl.v, sln> cam;-. upon the native village. '• It is a Icngishjun thro-.iyh the forests of ' ohia ' and ''koa ' and wild banana .md tree t'ein. We took luncheon with us, but supplemented it with fresh mangoes from the 'pake'' store in Pahoa. Just outside Pahoa we pr.ssed l»y the, lumber mill, skirting greir. heaps of 'ohia. 1 ties lor the Pan La Fo railway. Then we broke definitely with civilisation. In mid-forest, we stopped to eat, leaving room at the side of the road for the scant Sunday traffic to pass us. Odd traffic indeed : for what tourist- goes to Kaiinu or Kalapana? Hawaiian* (with a Portuguese, strain?) on donkeys, wearing sombreros and looking for all the world like kindly Mexicans . . . sitting, geitar on hip, and smiling broadly as the littlei cavalcade piled up in the narrow defile, which wa-; ill our lngo ear left of the right. of way; a Chinaman, weighed down bv his panniers, pattering, for miles along the road- w y kept picking b.im un aml passing him all the way from Pahoa, until finally he disappeared down an unnamed path info the very juncrle; women iml thildren m white ' holokus,' astride of their

mounts, Wind for rome. surfeit of ' poi ' and fish ivir.li relatives at the hack of he.vont!; .all this fading gradually into utter loneliness a a we, apwonehe.d the sea. Patches of dry taro -would suddenly spring into view, making our eves search swiftly for the grass house that, could scarce ho found .among the foliage." And so they cm no upon the nativo v.illage, by the 'ivhito .sands and the booming breakers.