At nearly the same time that this brown king was born in Hawaii, a baby was born in far-distant England, who was, many years after, the first white person to visit Auwae's home. This baby's name was James Cook. He was a little country boy. His father was very poor. James might not even have had a chance to learn his letters if it had not been for the kindness of a good woman who lived in his village.

The boy had to work hard, even when very small. He did not like his work, either, and after awhile he said:

"Oh, how I long to leave this place and be free! I would rather live on the beautiful blue ocean than here in the country. I shouldn't mind doing the hardest things on board a ship."

After awhile he made up his mind that he could not bear it any longer. One dark night he packed up a small bundle of clothing and ran away to sea.

Do you imagine he found a kind captain waiting at some dock who became his good friend and helper? Don't imagine it for a moment. He did find a captain, and a ship, too. He also got a chance to work as a cabin-boy, but he was badly treated, and had to work far harder than he ever did on land.

Yet he loved the life of the ocean so much that he kept on sailing, and worked his way up to a high position. He even became a captain. People now called him "Captain Cook," and he was sent on long and dangerous voyages in the English navy. When he was at home in England he was invited to great dinners, and given high honours, for he had become a famous man.

At last he was asked to make a more dangerous voyage than he had ever yet tried. Wise men thought there might be a short way for ships to sail from Europe to Asia by going north of America. There were many icebergs, to be sure, as well as seas all frozen over, but perhaps there was a warm current running through the ocean. Captain Cook was so wise and brave he was the very man to try to find the Northwest Passage, as it was called.

He started out with a goodly fleet. He sailed for many weeks. Many strange things happened. You must read the whole story of the voyage some time. But the brave captain did not find the Northwest Passage; he did, however, discover the islands of Auwae's people.

One morning at sunrise, as he came sailing into one of the harbours, the brown natives flocked to the shore. They had never seen a ship before. They wondered what it could be. Was it a forest that had slid down into the sea? Or was it the temple of Lono with ladders reaching up to the altars?

It seems that Lono was one of the gods in whom the brown people still believed. He had gone away from their island long before, and had promised to come back some day on an island bearing cocoanut-trees, swine, and dogs.

They thought the tall masts must be the cocoanut-trees, and when they saw the dogs and swine on board the ships, they were quite sure the promise had come true. Captain Cook himself must be Lono come again, and the sailors were lower gods who served him.

One of the priests brought a red cloak and placed it on Captain Cook's shoulders. This was the mark of his greatness. Such an honour could only be offered a god.

There were great feasts for the visitors. Offerings of fruit, chickens, and all good things possible were made to the white men. They grew fat on the fine living. They were merry over their good times. No doubt they laughed at the foolish belief of the savages, as they called them. But they did not say:

"My brown friends, we are glad you are so kind to us, but please don't think we are great beings. We are human beings like yourselves."

Do you not think that would have been wiser and more honest?

After awhile one of the sailors died. Then the brown people began to think. They said among themselves:

"Gods cannot die. These people die, so they cannot be gods."

They began to watch more closely. Captain Cook was very quick-tempered. He and his men sometimes quarrelled with the natives and were cruel. At last, sad to say, the brave captain was killed in one of these quarrels.

Some people believe the Hawaiians of that time were cannibals and ate his dead body. But this is not true. Auwae would feel very badly if she thought her American brothers and sisters could believe this. Captain Cook was a very great and brave man in the opinion of the brown child, as well as in yours. But he ought not to have let the people believe he was anything else than himself,—a white traveller from other lands.

There is a monument to his memory on the island, and when you visit Auwae she will take you to see it.

After Captain Cook's death other white men came and taught the Hawaiians many things. They helped the rulers in governing wisely; and at last the people saw it was best to put themselves under the care of their white brothers.

Auwae likes to read about the old days, however. She delights in hearing her grandmother tell of her own youth; of the visit the king once made to her village; and of the grand celebration in his honour. The days were given up to feasting and entertainments. Men practised boxing and wrestling for a long time beforehand; there were wonderful feats on horseback, in which Auwae's grandfather took part.

As he rode at full gallop through the village, he surpassed all others in leaning from his horse and picking small coins from the ground. Best of all, the old woman said, as he rode along he wrung off the necks of fowls whose bodies were buried in the ground. And this he did without checking his horse's pace at all.

But the most joyful part of the day was when the king, fairly covered with wreaths of flowers, took his place under a beautiful pandanus-tree; then his subjects, one by one, came up before him, and, cheering and bowing, gave him offerings. It was always the best which the people offered their lord. There were presents of live fowls, hogs, clusters of bananas, cakes of seaweed, eggs, cocoanuts, nets of sweet potatoes, taro; everything which the king could desire.

"What joy and good-will those days brought!" says Auwae's grandmother. "It was the happiest time of my life."

The old woman takes a great deal of interest in everything her little granddaughter does. She is very proud of Auwae's collection of land-shells. She thinks it must be the finest one any child possesses in the whole island. She, herself, gave Auwae at least half of the different varieties. She had kept them from the time of her own childhood.

Did you ever hear of land-shells? They are found on the low, overhanging branches of trees, and the little creatures who make their homes in them would die if you were to put them into the salt water. They are very tiny, and are of many different tints. Auwae has beautiful blue ones, as well as rosy pink, pale yellow, green, violet, and I don't know how many other colours. In little basket trays, side by side, they look very pretty. Each variety has a tray of its own.

Many days must have been spent in gathering the collection; many different people have helped Auwae in making it,—for often only a single kind of shell can be found in one whole island. People in Hawaii exchange specimens, just as the American boys and girls trade postage-stamps with each other. The white people in the village would like to buy Auwae's collection to send to a museum across the ocean, but she would not think of parting with it.