The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1899-11-15
GIVING FOR FlREWOOD.
Sandwich Isiandcrs' Way of Filling
the Wood Box.


the Wood Box.
Boys whose most distastcful task is
to keep the wood box filled. or who are
expected to split the kindling wood cv-
cry night. would undoubtedly enjoy
living ut Hawaii. Fircwood there is
not only very scarce. but they get 1t
out Of the water another feature Of tho
matter which would probably appeal
to such Of the boys as delight In "goin
swimmin." ii. w. IIenshaw, writing
In The Youths Companion. says Of this
custom:
Upon the shores OF Hawaii firewood
Is u scarce and precious commodity.
The present forests do not grow near
the sen, and the labor OF bringing wood
from the distant timber Is great, cspe-
cially rs roads are few. Practically all
the tirewood OF the natives. ana much
that is used by the Europeans in the
towns. is drift that is brought down
periodically from the uplanus 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 Oh
the beach? Not at all; ut least. very
little is obtained In that commonplace
manner.
Much of the island timber IS extreme
ly heavy. and instead OF floating in
orthodox fashion, rs wood should do, 1t
promptly sinks to the bottom. AS the
freshet gathers hcadwny, down come
the heavy tree trunks and branches,
dashing lcrcely against the rough
lava sides Of the stream and humping
against the bottom till all scmblnnce Of
their original shape is lost and they
are bruised Into sliapclcss blocks or
split into kindling.
The currcht carries them we'll into
the ocean, where they settle into tho
sand. The first stage Of their journey
Is over. now for the second. III 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.
Here is the natives chance He has
been waiting long for just such an op-
portunity. Down to the shore come the
Kannkas In troops. No one Is left be-
hind save the sick and the blind Men,
women and children are nll on the
beach, having an eye both to business
and to pleasure.
The women nrc clad in old, loose
holakus. garment may best describe
by likcning 1t to the original Mother
Hubbard" The men doff their gar-
ments and don tho economical mnlo. or
waist cloth. The children follow suit,
so far rs doffing goes, and don-wcll,
to tell the truth, most Of them don
nothing, and If they are satisfied, you
and 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 q
splinter, or 1t mny be q log so large ns
to require the aid Of rope to pull 1t
in: but, large or small, no matter.
Down dives the Knnnka head foremost
to seize the prize.
The women and children wade In Il
little distance to cntch 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 stny In the wa
ter. wading and diving. for II couple Of
hours and then come out. pretty thor
oushly 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 I'LL the air,
and one might suppose the occasion
was summer picnic.
Whatever his faults, the Kanaka has
not added to the glcom and discomfort
or 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.