Scenes in the Hawaiian Islands and California. Anderson Mary Evarts
the company keep their spare vessels. Among them were the St. Louis, California, Guatemala, and our own beautiful Constitution, – larger and finer than any of the others, with our old voyage companions smiling their greetings over its side. It seemed a long while since we had seen them, and it was quite like getting home to have them about us.
We lay at anchor all night, and the next morning, Jan. 25, at six o'clock, our Pacific voyage commenced. We passed in the bay the mountainous island Toboga, with a pretty little village lying snugly cradled at its base. From this island's cool, clear, springs, the drinking water of Panama, is obtained.
"Don't they have wells in Panama?" inquired Carrie.
Yes; but the water is brackish and warm.
"What is 'brackish,' aunty?" said Alice.
Having a salt taste, – not pure. Our Constitution was very different from the Ocean Queen, it being very clean and sweet. When we went on board, the dinner-table was set in the long saloon, and every thing looked as in our best hotels. We occupied a nice stateroom, having a French bed with curtains, a sofa, a mirror on the wall, and some very convenient shelves. We had, also, good washing arrangements; so that we were well settled for a two weeks' voyage. There were three waiters to each table, while there was but one on the other steamer. The dessert was prettily arranged, on tables at either end of the saloon. All the orders were given by a bell. The waiters went together to the dessert-tables, and each took a dish of pudding, or cake, or fruit and nuts, perhaps. The bell struck, and they moved in procession to their places, when at another signal they placed the dishes upon the table.
Ah! there is our bell, and we must go. Carrie, you may head the procession.
IV
From Panama to San Francisco
"AUNTY, where are you?" cried little Alice, and then a gentle knock on my door reminded me that it was four o'clock. "We are all ready waiting in the sitting-room, and Fanny Mason is there, too, because she wants to hear our stories. You are willing; an't you, aunty?"
Oh, yes, Alice, any of your friends may come that wish. So I took my little pet's hand, and went down to my waiting group to tell my story.
We had beautiful summer weather, and quite forgot that it was January. On the 29th we passed a distant volcano, and early in the morning saw the smoke at its summit. The name of the volcano is Colenso, and it is in Guatemala. It was first seen in the night, and our men sent up a rocket as a signal, supposing it to be the light of another steamer, but they soon saw their mistake.
The coast is mountainous all the way to San Francisco; we kept it in sight nearly all the time except when crossing the Gulfs of Tehuantepec and California. The sea was almost invariably smooth.
We arrived at Acapulco, in Mexico, Saturday, Jan. 31, at daybreak; having sailed 1,440 miles in six days. As grandpa and grandma were not going on shore, I had not thought of doing so; but quite a party of our acquaintance went, and I was invited to join them. I was glad to go; for I longed to step on Mexican soil.
We had a native boat and four rowers. The sail was a very pleasant one, and we were soon on the low, sandy beach. Part of the town was destroyed by an earthquake two years ago; but the adobe houses are so simply constructed that they can be rebuilt with little difficulty.
"What are adobe houses?" asked Carrie.
Houses built of hardened clay. They take a mold like the sides of a box with the bottom out, and press it full of mud; when turned out, it looks like a great mud brick, and is left for the sun to dry.
We went up to the market-place, where the Mexican women, children, and dogs were all huddled together, with their wares spread out in most tempting array; coral, colored with most brilliant dyes; shells of various kinds, some on long strings like necklaces, and some single and highly polished. Fruits were plenty, – bananas, granadas, oranges, and limes. We had our chocolate and eggs ordered; but just at that moment, boom! went our ship's cannon to recall us, so we had to go back without our breakfast; but we took some beautiful flowers and a few shells. The forts had been bombarded by the French about a month before, but looked as if they were little injured. The harbor is small, but one of the finest on the whole Pacific coast. The native boys swam out to the ship, and would dive for silver coin thrown to them. It was astonishing to see how far down in the water they would go for it, and almost invariably get it. Then they would put it in their mouths, and be ready for another. One boy, the quickest of the lot, must have had a dozen pieces in his mouth at one time.
A shark and a devil-fish came near the ship —
"A devil-fish!" the children all exclaimed; "why, what sort of a fish is that?"
It is very large, having a pointed head with projecting fins of great breadth, triangular and resembling wings, making the fish broader than it is long, even including the tail. The encyclopædia says one was caught in the Atlantic, off Delaware Bay, in 1823, which was so heavy as to require three pairs of oxen, a horse, and several men to drag it ashore. It weighed about five tons, and measured seventeen and a quarter feet long, and eighteen feet broad; the skin was blackish-brown, and underneath, black and white; its mouth was two feet nine inches wide, and the skull five feet. One was captured in the harbor of Kingston on the island of Jamaica, which had strength enough to drag three or four boats fastened together at the rate of four miles an hour. The mouth of this one was four and a half feet wide, and three feet deep, large enough to contain the body of a man.
The day after we left Acapulco was the Sabbath, and we had service in the saloon in the morning, which made it seem quite like a home Sabbath, and many were delighted to have a "real Sunday." A table was covered with an American flag; this was the pulpit. The Bible was laid on it, and grandpa preached. We sat around on the saloon sofas. The captain could not attend, as we were nearing the town of Manzanilla. Just as the sermon was finished, we stopped before that picturesque village. I believe the town proper is inland. The few houses on the shore looked very neat, being white-washed, making a very pretty contrast with the deep green of the lofty hills beyond.
After two hours' sail from Manzanilla, we passed the wreck of the steamer Golden Gate, which was burned some time since, causing the loss of so many lives. Vessels are stationed there to procure treasure from the wreck, and we received from them more than two hundred thousand dollars to carry to San Francisco.
One of our officers was on the Golden Gate when it was burned, and he told some thrilling stories of the disaster. A great many strong, grown people were drowned in the terrible surf; yet one little baby, only six weeks old, floated safely to the shore. God took care of her, you see. The men carried her by turns, as they walked their weary way over the mountains to Manzanilla, and fed her with scraped potato, a barrel of potatoes having washed ashore.
How many sorrowful feelings were called up by the sight of that one wheel lying on the beach; for that is all that is left of the ill-fated Golden Gate! How many lives were lost in those peaceful waters over which we were sailing so pleasantly! Our officers told us that it was just such a bright, beautiful day; but the surf here is very high, and with our glass we could see it foaming and tossing on the beach. In our hearts many of us thanked God for our present safety, and prayed him to save us from such a fate. Just before we neared the wreck, we passed by some rocks on the coast, looking just like a ruined castle, with beautiful green trees all around them, as if it were a nobleman's garden.
It is not easy to keep the Sabbath properly on one of these ocean steamers; for little distinction is observed in the days by the crew. We did, however, the best we could. It seemed more like the Sabbath in the evening, when a goodly number of us collected together in the saloon, and sung hymns and tunes, just as many of us would have done were we in our loved homes, so far away. That night we commenced crossing the Gulf of California, and all day Monday we saw no land. Almost every evening we walked upon the upper deck, which was a very fine promenade three hundred and seventy feet long.
Tuesday we saw Cape St. Lucas, which you know is the end of the long peninsula of California, and were in sight of the shore all the way after that. I was constantly surprised at the grandeur of this western coast, with its magnificent chains of mountains, rising peak above peak, and fleecy clouds resting on their summits. There was no break in these chains all the way