The Pacific commercial advertiser. [volume] (Honolulu, Hawaiian Islands) 1885-1921, 1899-09-13
SPLITTING WOOD.
How HaWaiianS Get Their
Winters Supply.
An Interesting Story OF Island Life
From the New york SUMS
Columns.

Inc following story Is reproduced
from recent number of the New York
Sun, whose local correspondent is evil
IDENTIFY gifted with more than the usual
share of Imagination:
Boys whose most distasteful task is
10 keep the woodbox filled or who are
expected to split the kindling-wood
every 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 should probably appeal
to such of the boys as delight in ''goin
swimmin'."
Upon the shores of hawaii firewood
is 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,
especially as roads are few. Practi-
cally all the firewood of the natives,
and much that is used by the Euro
peans in the towns is drift that is
brought down periodically from the
1
rains.
There is nothing strange in all this,
but what is strange is the way the ma
tives gather wood. Pick it up on the
beach? Not at all; at least, very little
is obtained in that commonplace man
| ner.
Much of the island timber is ex-
tremely heavy, and instead of floating
in orthodox fashion, as wood should
do, it promptly sinks to the bottom.
AS the freshet gathers Roadway, down
come the heavy tree trunks and BRAN
ches, dashing fiercely against the
rough lava sides of the stream and
humping against the bottom till all
semblance of their original shape is
lost, and they are bruised into shape
less blocks or split into kindling.
The current carries them well into
the ocean, where they settle into the
sand. The first stage of their journey
is over; now for the second. In day
or two the ocean rises in it's might,
and sends in huge breakefs upon the
shores, which catch theS logs and
splinters and roll them ovSr and over,
still on the bottom, towara the beach.
Here is the natives chaAee. He has
been waiting long for just eucb. an OPP
portunity. Down to thea shore come
the Kanakas in troops. Nc oAe is left
behind save the sick and the blind.
Men, women and children are all on
the beach,: having an eye both to bu-
siness and to pleasure:
The women are clad in old, loose
scribe by likening it to the original
Mother Hubbard The men dOff
their garments and don the economical
malo, or waistcloth. The children fol-
low suit, so far as doffing goes. and
don-well, to tell the truth, most of
them don nothing, and if they are sat-
isfied, you and / need not complain.
And now for it.
3 The men dash into the breakers,
diving 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 a piece of wood-it may be
only splinter, or it may be log so
| large as to require the aid of a rope to
pull it in; but, large or small, no mat
| ter. Down dives the Kaanka 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 on the shore grow from moth
| ing to cords.
A hardy native will stay in the water
| wading and diving, for a 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 solaclng
himself with the inevitable pipe cigar
ette
Hard work is this wood gathering by
diving, what between the buffetings of
the waves, the cold and labor of tug
ging the logs ashore. But for all that
shouts and laughter fill the air, and
one might suppose the occasion was a
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