The more he sees of Honolulu, the better he likes it. A delightfully colorful contrast to San Francisco, it has bright-colored houses, flowers, huge trees, comely women, and millions of cats.
Honolulu has no regular livery stable, so one must hire wretched horses from Kanaka - who are unprincipled horse traders.
Saturday afternoon is a festive day at Honolulu's marketplace, where native girls in gaudy habits ride horses. Occasionally one sees a tattooed heathen who looks like a Washoe mendicant who was blown up in a mine. Poi merchants peddle their unseductive but nutritious mixture, and natives buy the intoxicating awa (kava) root. In old times, Saturday was a truly grand dala day with feasts, hula dancing, and revelry, but now it has lost its gfala features and the hula is largely forbidden.
Contact with white civilization has reduced native population from 400,000 in Cook's time to 55,000 in just 80 years.
A stranger is likely to be a missionary, a whaling captain, or a high government official.