The Hawaiian star. [volume] (Honolulu [Oahu]) 1893-1912, 1900-08-11
NATURAL WONDERS OF wAIPIO
VALLEY.
A Marvellous Rift in the Kohala Noun
tains, Where Hiilawe Still Disconso-
late Pours Her Constant Tears.

eastern slopes of the Kohala Noun
tains on Hawaii.
was anxious to visit the place, for
had heard it compared with Yosemite
Valley in California, in beauty and
grandeur. 1t is. however, so different
in it's type of beauty that one may as
well compare the beauty of a deer and a
race horse, yet both have the same an
cestors.
The coast at this point is a succession
of deep valley gorges, split or water
eroded out of the eastern slopes of the
mountain. Waipio is only the most
southern and largest of a series of
gorges from Kohala south, of which
Waimanu and Waipio are the most not
able.
They are separated by table lands
running from 500 feet at the waters
edge, to over 1000 in the interior Com
munication is maintained by trails only,
zigzagging up and down the steep pals
near the sea. Evidently the great bluffs
between the valleys once jutted out to
sea and rounded off in lava rocks at the
sea level. as they are to be observed on
the south side of the Island.
The beating of the heavy breakers on
the windward side of the Island has
worn away and is still encroaching on
the land, until the hungry waves have
gnawed every bit of land up to the
point where the great pals of 800 feet
bear the marks of their teeth.
If the sides and sea front of Waiplo
seem rugged the floor and beach of the
valley viewed from above are in strong
contrast.
Standing on the road at the south de-
scent into the valley, near the clltts
overlooking the sea, the first glance
reveals a surprising calmness in the
floor of the valley and the sea at it's
mouth. The floor is as level and un-
broken as a carpet, 500 feet below, cut
into a pattern of checkered green by the
rice patches, the crescent course of the
white sands of the beach holds in check
a double line of breakers charging up
the sands with white names flowing.
The azure depths of the ocean beyond
the breakers. the yellow green of the
valley patches, the brown and olive
green of the pals the white ribbons OF
the cascades tumbling down thousand
feet to the valley floor, or pouring over
the perpendicular cliff at the north,
make up a picture to test the artist S
skill.
Descending the steep and rocky trail,
more like the bed of a mountain torrent
than a trail one sees the toy river
widening at it's mouth toy fisherman
padding down the stream, a few tiny
women washing clothes in the rapids
of the stream, where it rushes into
the sea over pebbly bottom,
a cluster of tiny grass huts on
the sands, a few toy canoes drawn
up on the beach and covered with mats.
All this in miniature like a perfect toy
village. Descent to a lower point of
observation gives view up the valley
two miles, where the walls have mar
rowed from about a mile at it's mouth,
to a quarter of that and doubled in
height The tardy sun at last throws
hi Iaa on, 10 oil
steeple of the church up beyond the rice
fields, and brings out in detail the CO.
coanuts, mangoeS and jungle of foliage
clustering around some ruined houses
across the valley.
Throughout the valley are scattered
the characteristic structures of the Chi
nese rice planters, with a pretentious
pink house decorated in Chinese design,
as a sort of a club in the middle.
A miles ride from the top brings one
to the little village street. The natives
lounging on the verandas of their pre-
tentious frame houses, shout to one an
other to know who that haole is who
has Just come in. The stolid Chinese
storekeeper gives no sign of curiosity
but is ever ready to sell a tin of beef
for the travellers breakfast. The only
street lies shaded under immense man
go trees, and leads on by stepping
stones across a brawling brook by
shed where the omnipresent coffee shop
stands with its inscription, Hale inu
kOpe me XII" Bright little children are
playing about the smoky shed that
bears the dignifed sign two Chinese
and two native, the Chinese child with
a durable pie in his hands, the natives
with nothing but a hope to get some.
The pie Withstands the boisterous play,
as well as the envious glances of the
natives.
Inquiry for a horse induces the
bright children to lead me through the
yard of neat schoolhouse, and through
high thicket of lantana 10 a grass hut
where a native woman is making hats
from lauhala. From her dOor-yard
fine view may be had of the curious
semi cylindrical alcove off the main
valley where two falls drop over about
500 feet into the curious curve in the
south wall. These falls are the tears
of Hiilawe, weeping for her lover, Ha
kalaowa, who was transformed into a
stone. This is proved, because there is
the stone on the mountain side to wit
ness it. PHILIP L. WEAVER.