MY little flock of listeners were sure to get their work done punctually by four o'clock, thus fulfilling their part of the bargain, and used laughingly to talk about their travels, making believe that they were journeying, as I told them what I saw and had passed through.

On Saturday, April 4, Mr. Paris, grandpa, and I, started off on a long ride, to visit Hoonaunau, the city of refuge, a place to which people could flee, if they had committed any crime, or displeased any chief, and be protected by the priests. This was in old pagan times; they are not used for that purpose now.

"Aunty," asked Carrie, "didn't they have such cities in Old Testament times?"

Yes, dear, they did. You may get your Bible and turn to Numbers xxxv: vi. and read the passage to us.

"And among the cities which ye shall give unto the Levites, there shall be six cities for refuge, which ye shall appoint for the man-slayer, that he may flee thither."

It seems singular that this heathen people should have a custom like that sanctioned by God through Moses in the Old Testament days; but so it was. This city of refuge was a "heiau," or heathen temple. It has a massive stone wall varying from six to ten feet in hight, and as many feet in thickness, inclosing a large space of ground, and having, of course, no roof. The sea washes its base on one side. Here we saw a rock, under which Kaahumanu, the favorite wife of the great conqueror Kamehameha I., is said to have hid herself when her royal husband was angry with her. It is called by her name.

"Did the king have more than one wife?" asked Harry.

Yes, almost every chief had several, if he could afford it. But now that they are a Christianized people it is different.

We stood on the altar where human sacrifices had been offered. It was hard to believe that such a quiet place was ever used for so dreadful a purpose.

We saw a flat rock, on which one of the great chiefs was said to have rested while his subjects were fishing. The native story is, that the chief was so tall that his feet hung over one end, and his head the other. The stone was fourteen feet long!

"Aunty," said little Alice, "it wasn't a true story; was it?"

No, Alice; but probably he was a very tall man.

We passed over the battle-field of Kaei, the scene of the last great fight on Hawaii, which placed the island under the rule of Kamehameha II.

About half a mile beyond the City of Refuge is a high bluff, over which are solid lava falls, looking just like a waterfall, only black. They are hundreds of feet broad and more than a hundred feet high. You can walk between the bluff and the fall, and look up a hundred feet. We went into a cave, which is an eighth of a mile deep, leading to the sea. It probably was once a channel through which a lava stream flowed into the ocean.

Coming back we rode into the village of Kealakekua, and went to the spot where Captain Cook was worshiped, and had sacrifices offered to him. Just think how wicked it was in him to allow those poor ignorant natives to believe he was a god, and to receive offerings and sacrifices as such! It must have been very displeasing in the sight of God to have a man brought up in a Christian land do such a thing. It was only a little while after, across the bay in sight of that very place, that he lost his life. We saw two cocoa-nut trees with their trunks perforated by cannon-balls which were fired from Cook's ship.

The next day we attended the native church at Kealakekua, and saw their manner of collecting monthly concert money. One or two deacons, or "lunas" as they call them, sit at a table in front of the pulpit, and the people bring up their gifts. Three old men had no money, and brought, respectively, a broom, some dried fish, and two fowls. The fowls amused me very much. They had their feet tied together, and occasionally fluttered their wings and clucked during the sermon. One of the hens, I have since learned, was of Japanese breed. All her feathers curled up the wrong way, making her look as if she had been out in a gale of wind.

Monday we rode down to Kaawaloa, stood on the rock where Cook fell, gathered some coral where his boat rested, and walked over the stones where he led the king when endeavoring to take him as a hostage.

"What did they want him for?" asked Harry.

The natives had stolen a boat from Captain Cook, and the latter was taking their king to the ship to keep him there until the boat should be brought back. The natives could not bring the boat back, because they had already broken it up to get the iron in it; and they were not willing their king should be taken away. So one of the chiefs seized Cook roughly by the shoulder, and held him so painfully that he cried out. The people said, "Can a god groan? Is a god afraid?" Their belief that he was a god was broken, and he was immediately killed. We went into the king's house, which is still standing, and saw some beautiful matting lining the walls, taking the place of our house paper. It was woven in figures. We sat down on a board, and drank some young cocoa-nut milk from trees which existed in Captain Cook's time, and now shade the spot. Near the shore is a dead trunk of a tree about three feet high, on which several plates of copper, inscribed to the memory of Captain Cook, have been nailed by officers of British men-of-war. Not a very sumptuous monument this! On one side of the road, about half a mile above the beach, is a pillar of wood erected on a heap of rough lava. On this is a small plate, bearing this inscription:—

In Memory
OF
CAPTAIN JAMES COOK, R. N.,
WHO DISCOVERED THESE ISLANDS,
IN
THE YEAR OF OUR LORD
1778,
THIS HUMBLE MONUMENT IS ERECTED BY
HIS FELLOW COUNTRYMEN, IN
THE YEAR OF OUR LORD
1825.

Captain Cook named the group of islands from his patron, the Earl of Sandwich. The natives always call them Hawaiian Islands, or as they say, "Hawaii Nei!"

This portion of Hawaii is the orange district, and we had delicious oranges every day. It seemed sometimes as if the fruit, after peeling, would drop to pieces in our hands, from very juiciness.

"Oh, how I wish I had some!" said Harry.

This is a bread-fruit country too. We didn't learn to love that fruit. We sometimes had it baked for dinner. I think it is never eaten uncooked. The tree is fine-looking; its leaves are large, and of a very brilliant green. The fruit is round, has a rough outside, and to me seemed rather mealy and tasteless.

"How large is it?" asked Carrie.

About the size of a cantelope-melon.

We tasted here, too, the root of the ti [te] plant. It was baked, and when sent in it was still hot. It looked like brown-bread, only finer grained, and when shaved off in slices had a very sweet and not unpleasant taste. Many of the natives are quite fond of it. The plant has a small trunk four or five feet high, surmounted with a tuft of leaves resembling corn-leaves. In various parts of the islands, when there is a scarcity of food, the natives eat the root of the fern-tree, baked. It reminded me in appearance of tobacco, was tasteless, and uninviting in its looks; but I saw native men cut off great slices of it, which they ate as if they liked it. But as I told you before, their favorite food is poi, and, with a good supply of that and raw fish, a native is as happy as a plenty of good food can make him.

We saw here for the first time enormous cockroaches. They came out after a rain, and were very annoying, as all large bugs are that can fly or run fast. One night I killed seven in my room. If I left one dead on the floor overnight, in the morning it would be surrounded by hundreds of small brown ants. It was really very interesting to watch the little creatures. They would saw off a leg, or a part of one, then several of them would drag it away to their hiding-place; and, piecemeal, they would, if given time, carry off the cockroach, leaving not a particle. Now there is a lesson for you, children.

Perhaps you have something to do. It may seem like a mountain, as you look at it; but if you work diligently, doing perhaps only a little at a time, it will grow less and less until it is all done; and as you look back upon it, you will be astonished to think how easily you have done it.