O Lahui Hawaii; Aloha oe:—
Perhaps there are not that many people who have travelled to the top of that famous mountain Haleakala in East Maui. It was the perfect time, because when I awoke this morning at maybe three o’clock and my eyes were set upon that mountain, I was filled with great admiration. I woke up my kamaaina and we got the horses ready, and at my urging, we left Makawao; and soon I’m writing this letter from the high rocks of this mountain at 9 o’clock in the morning. We are looking at the schooner greatly beloved by the friends of this land, that being the Moi, whose prow was rooting through the lapping sea of Kahului, and the famous pond in the cold, that being Kanaha. The mist is moving down to Iao and blanketing Kapela and her beautiful flowers, and the pili of Kakae disappeared, just leaving the hills in view, and it was as if waters were rushing the dam of Iao. The shady valleys at the edge of Nawaieha are imposing, seeming to duel with the rows of waves of Kahului.