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rest。
〃A lotus land；〃 I said。
〃Where each day is like every day； and every day is a paradise of
days；〃 he answered。 〃Nothing ever happens。 It is not too hot。 It
is not too cold。 It is always just right。 Have you noticed how the
land and the sea breathe turn and turn about？〃
Indeed； I had noticed that delicious rhythmic； breathing。 Each
morning I had watched the sea…breeze begin at the shore and slowly
extend seaward as it blew the mildest； softest whiff of ozone to the
land。 It played over the sea； just faintly darkening its surface；
with here and there and everywhere long lanes of calm； shifting；
changing； drifting； according to the capricious kisses of the
breeze。 And each evening I had watched the sea breath die away to
heavenly calm； and heard the land breath softly make its way through
the coffee trees and monkey…pods。
〃It is a land of perpetual calm；〃 I said。 〃Does it ever blow here？…
…ever really blow？ You know what I mean。〃
Cudworth shook his head and pointed eastward。
〃How can it blow； with a barrier like that to stop it？〃
Far above towered the huge bulks of Mauna Kea and Mauna Loa； seeming
to blot out half the starry sky。 Two miles and a half above our
heads they reared their own heads； white with snow that the tropic
sun had failed to melt。
〃Thirty miles away； right now； I'll wager； it is blowing forty miles
an hour。〃
I smiled incredulously。
Cudworth stepped to the lanai telephone。 He called up； in
succession； Waimea； Kohala； and Hamakua。 Snatches of his
conversation told me that the wind was blowing： 〃Rip…snorting and
back…jumping； eh？ 。 。 。 How long？ 。 。 。 Only a week？ 。 。 。 Hello；
Abe； is that you？ 。 。 。 Yes； yes 。 。 。 You WILL plant coffee on the
Hamakua coast 。 。 。 Hang your wind…breaks！ You should see MY
trees。〃
〃Blowing a gale；〃 he said to me； turning from hanging up the
receiver。 〃I always have to joke Abe on his coffee。 He has five
hundred acres； and he's done marvels in wind…breaking； but how he
keeps the roots in the ground is beyond me。 Blow？ It always blows
on the Hamakua side。 Kohala reports a schooner under double reefs
beating up the channel between Hawaii and Maui； and making heavy
weather of it。〃
〃It is hard to realize；〃 I said lamely。 〃Doesn't a little whiff of
it ever eddy around somehow； and get down here？〃
〃Not a whiff。 Our land…breeze is absolutely of no kin； for it
begins this side of Mauna Kea and Mauna Loa。 You see； the land
radiates its heat quicker than the sea； and so； at night； the land
breathes over the sea。 In the day the land becomes warmer than the
sea； and the sea breathes over the land 。 。 。 Listen！ Here comes
the land…breath now； the mountain wind。〃
I could hear it coming； rustling softly through the coffee trees；
stirring the monkey…pods； and sighing through the sugar…cane。 On
the lanai the hush still reigned。 Then it came； the first feel of
the mountain wind； faintly balmy； fragrant and spicy； and cool；
deliciously cool； a silken coolness； a wine…like coolnesscool as
only the mountain wind of Kona can be cool。
〃Do you wonder that I lost my heart to Kona eighteen years ago？〃 he
demanded。 〃I could never leave it now。 I think I should die。 It
would be terrible。 There was another man who loved it； even as I。
I think he loved it more； for he was born here on the Kona coast。
He was a great man； my best friend； my more than brother。 But he
left it； and he did not die。〃
〃Love？〃 I queried。 〃A woman？〃
Cudworth shook his head。
〃Nor will he ever come back； though his heart will be here until he
dies。〃
He paused and gazed down upon the beachlights of Kailua。 I smoked
silently and waited。
〃He was already in love 。 。 。 with his wife。 Also； he had three
children； and he loved them。 They are in Honolulu now。 The boy is
going to college。〃
〃Some rash act？〃 I questioned； after a time； impatiently。
He shook his head。 〃Neither guilty of anything criminal； nor
charged with anything criminal。 He was the Sheriff of Kona。〃
〃You choose to be paradoxical；〃 I said。
〃I suppose it does sound that way；〃 he admitted； 〃and that is the
perfect hell of it。〃
He looked at me searchingly for a moment； and then abruptly took up
the tale。
〃He was a leper。 No； he was not born with itno one is born with
it； it came upon him。 This manwhat does it matter？ Lyte Gregory
was his name。 Every kamaina knows the story。 He was straight
American stock； but he was built like the chieftains of old Hawaii。
He stood six feet three。 His stripped weight was two hundred and
twenty pounds； not an ounce of which was not clean muscle or bone。
He was the strongest man I have ever seen。 He was an athlete and a
giant。 He was a god。 He was my friend。 And his heart and his soul
were as big and as fine as his body。
〃I wonder what you would do if you saw your friend； your brother； on
the slippery lip of a precipice； slipping； slipping； and you were
able to do nothing。 That was just it。 I could do nothing。 I saw
it coming； and I could do nothing。 My God； man； what could I do？
There it was； malignant and incontestable； the mark of the thing on
his brow。 No one else saw it。 It was because I loved him so； I do
believe； that I alone saw it。 I could not credit the testimony of
my senses。 It was too incredibly horrible。 Yet there it was； on
his brow； on his ears。 I had seen it； the slight puff of the
earlobesoh； so imperceptibly slight。 I watched it for months。
Then； next； hoping against hope； the darkening of the skin above
both eyebrowsoh； so faint； just like the dimmest touch of sunburn。
I should have thought it sunburn but that there was a shine to it；
such an invisible shine； like a little highlight seen for a moment
and gone the next。 I tried to believe it was sunburn； only I could
not。 I knew better。 No one noticed it but me。 No one ever noticed
it except Stephen Kaluna； and I did not know that till afterward。
But I saw it coming； the whole damnable； unnamable awfulness of it；
but I refused to think about the future。 I was afraid。 I could
not。 And of nights I cried over it。
〃He was my friend。 We fished sharks on Niihau together。 We hunted
wild cattle on Mauna Kea and Mauna Loa。 We broke horses and branded
steers on the Carter Ranch。 We hunted goats through Haleakala。 He
taught me diving and surfing until I was nearly as clever as he； and
he was cleverer than the average Kanaka。 I have seen him dive in
fifteen fathoms； and he could stay down two minutes。 He was an
amphibian and a mountaineer。 He could climb wherever a goat dared
climb。 He was afraid of nothing。 He was on the wrecked Luga； and
he swam thirty miles in thirty…six hours in a heavy sea。 He could
fight his way out through breaking combers that would batter you and
me to a jelly。 He was a great； glorious man…god。 We went through
the Revolution together。 We were both romantic loyalists。 He was
shot twice and sentenced to death。 But he was too great a man for
the republicans to kill。 He laughed at them。 Later； they gave him
honour and made him Sheriff of Kona。 He was a simple man； a boy
that never grew up。 His was no intricate brain pattern。 He had no
twists nor quirks in his mental processes。 He went straight to the
point； and his points were always simple。
〃And he was sanguine。 Never have I known so confident a man； nor a
man so satisfied and happy。 He did not ask anything from life。
There was nothing left to be desired。 For him life had no arrears。
He had been paid in full； cash down； and in advance。 What more
could he possibly desire than that magnificent body； that iron
constitution； that immunity from all ordinary ills； and that lowly
wholesomeness of soul？ Physically he was perfect。 He had never
been sick in his life。 He did not know what a headache was。 When I
was so afflicted he used to look at me in wonder； and make me laugh
with his clumsy attempts at sympathy。 He did not understand such a
thing as a headache。 He could not understand。 Sanguine？ No
wonder。 How could he be otherwise with that tremendous vitality and
incredible health？
〃Just to show you what faith he had in his glorious star； and； also；
what sanction he had for that faith。 He was a youngster at the
timeI had just met himwhen he went into a poker game at Wailuku。
There was a big German in it； Schultz his name was； and he played a
brutal； domineering game。 He had had a run of luck as well； and he
was quite insufferable； when Lyte Gregory dropped in and took a
hand。 The very first hand it was Schultz's blind。 Lyte came in； as
well as the others； and Schultz raised them outall except Lyte。
He did not like the German's tone； and he raised him back。 Schultz