boat for our party, to take us
to his estate, called Princeville. It was a delightful row up the river,
the foliage on either bank was the richest and most luxuriant we had
seen. There was hardly a ripple on the water, and no sound was to be
heard but the gentle dip of the oars.

First, we visited the sugar-mill, which is the finest and most
expensive on the islands. There we witnessed the whole process, from the
grinding of the cane to the grained sugar. After that we went up to the
agent's house, and were cordially welcomed by his family, and shown over
the beautiful garden surrounding the house. There was a hedge of lovely
roses, with a profusion of fragrant blossoms. They gave us strawberries,
peaches, pine-apples, and sugar-cane to take with us,--a citron, too,
such as our preserved citron for cake is made of. It looked like an
enormous lemon. Besides this, we had an elegant bouquet of flowers,--a
magnificent fragrant magnolia, that queen of flowers, looking so waxen
with its heavy white leaves, and in beautiful contrast with it the
scarlet pomegranate blossoms: a fair white lily and snowy japonica
completed a bouquet fit for a royal gift.

The view from the piazza is exquisite. Mountains rise peak above peak in
the distance, while a beautiful valley, with its meandering stream,
lies at your feet. Tropical trees and lovely flowers are all around you.
I do not wonder that Mr. Wyllie is proud of Kikiula valley, with its
waving fields of sugar-cane. He called his estate Princeville after the
young Prince of Hawaii, who is now dead.

On Thursday morning, bright and early, we started on our travels again.
The roads of Kauai are better than on any of the other islands. Several
members of the party started a little before the others, and rode up
Kikiula valley through Princeville. After a ride of about two and a half
miles, we dismounted, and ascended a little eminence. What a scene was
before us! Far below was the river with its rapids, the course of which
we could trace down the valley for some distance. Around us were the
mountains, on the left a bluff, and before us the Twin Peaks, with
cascades in the distance. We galloped back, and soon overtook our
cavalcade. We had a fine ride that day through groves of
tropical-looking lohala-trees. Verdant valleys and lovely cascades,
winding streams and wooded precipices, abound. After fording a narrow
arm of the sea, grandma's horse gave himself so violent a shake that the