The details of this trip had already been made public in the United States the week after our departure from San Francisco, so that the people at home were aware of what might occur even before the ball players themselves had had a chance to realize that they were to become globetrotters. Owing to the fact that we had left San Francisco a day late we were a day late in arriving at the capital of the Hawaiian Islands, where we had been scheduled to play a game on Saturday, November 24th, but where, owing to an unfortunate combination of circumstances, we were fated not to play at all in spite of the fact that every preparation for our doing so had been made and that King and court were more than anxious to see the American athletes in action. The nightfall of Saturday found us still plowing the blue waters of the Pacific 150 miles from the islands, and as we sat on deck in the moonlight we could picture in fancy the despair of our advance agent, Mr. Simpson, who had gone on ahead of us from San Francisco and who was still in ignorance of the cause of our detention. It was just as the day began to break on the morning of Sunday, November 25th, that the cry of "Land ho!" from the lookout on the bridge echoed over the steamer's decks, and it was but a few minutes afterward when the members of our party had assembled next the rail to gaze at what was then but a faint blur upon the distant horizon. An hour later the green verdure of the islands and the rugged peaks of the mountains that loomed up against the rosy tint of the changing sky were plainly discernible, as were the white buildings of the city of Honolulu and the little fleet of shipping that was anchored in its bays. The sight was a beautiful one, and one upon which we gazed with delight as the steamer sailed in past Diamond Head and slowed down in the still waters of the bay upon whose shores Honolulu is located. Nearing the shore we were met by a ship's boat containing Mr. Geoffrey, the steamship company's resident agent; Harry Simpson, our advance guard; Mr. F. M. Whitney and Mr. Geo. N. Smith, the latter a cousin of Mr. Spalding, then residing in Honolulu, together with a party of natives bearing baskets that were filled with wreaths of flowers called "Leis," with which they proceeded to decorate each member of our party as a token of welcome and good will. As the steamer cables were made fast and we were drawn slowly to our berth at the dock we looked down from our perch on the rail at a crowd of fully 2,000 people that assembled there to bid us welcome, the King's band, "The Royal Hawaiian," with dark complexions and uniforms of white duck, occupying a conspicuous place and playing for our benefit such familiar tunes as "The Star Spangled Banner," "Yankee-.Doodle," and "The Girl I Left Behind Me," each and every one of them bringing out an answering cheer from the Alameda's passengers.