finding that the young man did not retaliate,
he resolved to have his life.

Pretending anger with Kamehameha because he would not study for the
priesthood and succeed to his honors, the soothsayer dinned a tirade
into his ears in the temple ground, hoping to receive a blow, that
he might stab, in return, for he wished the killing to appear as if
done in self-defence. Stung by his insolence, Kamehameha did knock
him down: a good, stout blow, well won. So soon as he had recovered
his wits and got upon his feet the priest plucked out his long bone
knife and made a stroke, but the priestess of the temple, her eyes
blazing with anger at this trespass, caught his wrist and cried, "Down
to your knees! Ask pardon of your future king and mercy of the gods."

At that instant came a rush of wings and a blaze of light filling
the temple space. All fell to the earth, for they had recognized the
tall form before them with the coronet of vari-colored sparks bound
on the golden hair that swept around it like a cloud of glory, and
the robe of tissue that was like flame of silver whiteness. It was
the volcano goddess.

"Peace!" she commanded. "This boy is in the charge of Pele. Let
no hand be lifted against him. No knife, no art, no poison, and no
spell shall shorten his life. He will be your greatest king: your
best. He will put an end to these wretched wars between your families,
and prepare for the day when a pale race will come to these lands,
making them a step in their conquering march around the world. As for
you, Pepehi, speak another word against those I love, lift a hand
against them, and I turn you to a cinder. Aloha!" She had vanished
like flame. Kamehameha, on this revelation of his destiny, sprang to
his feet. His breath was quick and strong, a smile was on his lips,
and he looked into the distance with lifted face and flashing eye, as
if a glorious vision had arisen there. A touch on his foot brought him
to himself. Pepehi was grovelling before him, baring his breast and
offering to Kamehameha the poisoned dagger he had but a few moments
before aimed at the young king's heart. Lifting him from the ground,
Kamehameha comforted the priest with a few words and sent him homeward
with bowed head and dragging step.

The Great Famine

Hua, the licentious king of Maui,--who kept a hundred hula dancers,
was drunk for days together on awa, and spared no wife or daughter
of a friend or subject if she took his fancy,-