he
proceeded towards the shore, receiving, as he went, the adoration of
the people. The route was strewn with fruit, cocoa-nuts, and pigs, and
the natives were highly delighted when any of their offerings were
accepted by the deified Rono.

The islanders appeared mild, docile, and intelligent, notwithstanding
the singular delusion that possessed them. Living from day to day,
they were, doubtless, ignorant of those continual cares and
calculations for the future that in the old world pursue us even into
the hours of sleep. Were they happier in consequence? Yes, if the
child is happier than the man, and if we admit that we often loose in
tranquillity and happiness what we gain in knowledge and perfection:
yes, if happiness is not exclusively attached to certain peoples and
certain climates; yes, if it is true that, with contentment, happiness
is everywhere to be found.

The houses of the Hawaians are singular structures, and scarcely can
be called dwellings. They consist of three rows of posts, two on each
side and one in the middle, the whole covered with a slanting roof,
but without any kind of wall whatever.

They do not bury their dead, but swing them up in a sort of hammock,
abundantly supplied with provisions. It is supposed that this is done
with a view to enable the souls of the departed to take their flight
more readily to heaven. The practice, consequently, seems to indicate
that the natives possess a confused idea of a future state. When a
child dies, flowers are placed in the hammock along with the
provisions--a touch of the nature common to us all. They express deep
grief by inflicting wounds upon their faces with a shark's tooth; and,
when they feel themselves in danger of dying, they cut off a joint of
the little finger to appease the anger of the Divinity. There was
scarcely one of the adult islanders who was not mutilated in this way.

Though the worshippers of the great Rono appeared gentle and peaceable
enough, there were to be seen here and there a human jaw-bone,
seemingly fresh, with the teeth entire, suspended over the entrances
to the huts. These ghastly objects sent a shudder quivering through
Jack's frame, and made Willis aware that it would not be advisable
rashly to throw off his sacred character.

As it was now late, and as they knew that Fritz would be uneasy about
them, they put off laying in their stock of water till next day. Jack
told the prime minister that the great Rono would be