The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1899-11-15
GIVING FOR FlREWOOD.
Sandwich Islanders Way of Filling
Tho VyouJ

Sandwich Islanders Way of Filling
the Wood Box.
Boys whose most. distasteful task is
to keep the wood box filled, or who are
expected to split the kindling wood ev-
cry night, would undoubtedly enjoy
living at Hawaii. Firewood there is
not only very scarce, but they get it
out Of the water, another feature Of the
matter Which would probably appeal
to such Of the boys as delight in "goin
swimmin." FL. W. Henshaw, writing
in The Youths Companion, says Of this
CUSTOM:
Upon the shores Of Hawaii firewood
is q scarce and precious commodity.
The present forests do not grow near
the sea, and the labor Of bringing wood
from the distant timber is great, espe-
cially as roads are few. Practically all
the frewood Of the natives, and much
that is used by the Europeans in the
towns, is drift that is brought down
periodically from the uplands by fresh
cts that follow heavy rains.
There is nothing strange in all this,
but what is strange is the way the
natives gather the wood. Pick it up on
the beach? Not at all; at least, very
little is obtained in that commonplace
manner.
Much of the island timber is extreme
ly heavy, and instead Of floating in
70 ch
promptly sinks TO the bottom. AS the
freshet gathers headway, down come
the heavy tree trunks and branches,
dashing iercely against the rough
lava sides Of the stream and humping
against the bottom till Ill semblance Of
their original shape is lost and they
are bruised into shapeless blocks or
split into kindling.
The curreht carries them we'll into
the ocean, where they settle into the
sand. The first stage Of their journey
is over, now for the second. In n day
or two the ocean rises in its might and
sends in huge breakers upon the
shores, which catch the logs and splin-
ters and roll them over and over, still
on the bottom, toward the beach.
Hero is the natives chance. He has
been waiting long for just such an op-
portunity. Down to the shore come the
Kanakas in troops. No one is left be-
hind save the sick and the blind. Men,
women and children are all on the
beach. having an eye both to business
and to pleasure.
The women are clad in old, loose
holakus garment I may best describe
by likening it to the original Mother
Hubbard" The men doff their gar
ments and don the economical malo, or
waist cloth. The children follow suit,
so far as dofhng goes, and don-well,
to tell the truth, most Of them don
nothing, and if they are satisfied, you
and I need not complain. And now for
it.
The men dash into the breakers, div
ing under the big combers and rising
on the crests Of the smaller ones till
they are out shoulder high; then they
feel around With their feet till they
find piece Of wood-it may be only a
splinter, or it may be q log so large as
to require the aid Of a rope to pull it
in; but, large or small, no matter
Down dives the Kanaka head foremost
to seize the prize.
The women and children wade in a
little distance to catch the smaller
pieces that get past the men. and soon
the piles Oh the shore grow from moth
ing to cords.
A hardy native will stay in the wa
ter, wading and diving. for Il couple OF
hours and then come out. pretty thor
oughly chilled, to sun himself on the
beach in readiness for another bout
with the waves. meantime solacing
himself with the inevitable pipe or
cigarette.
Hard work is this wood gathering
by diving, what between the buffetings
Of the waves, the cold and the labor OF
tugging the logs ashore. But for all
that shouts and laughter fill the air,
and one might suppose the occasion
was summer picnic.
Whatever his faults, the Kanaka has
not added to the gloom and discomfort
of the world. he endures disappoint-
ment and misfortune with equanimity,
and when the clouds pass and the sun
shines he Is ready to laugh and be glad