not more, and several works have been published in it,
while the translation of the Bible is to be seen in every native hut.
Of course, all this information I picked up from different people during
our stay at Honolulu.

"We have not had any fun for a long time; I wonder what will turn up
next," said Jerry to me, after we had been there a couple of days.

The next morning, Mr Callard, the missionary, who was an old friend of
Captain Frankland's, came on board, and invited Jerry and me and Mr
McRitchie, and Mr Brand, if he could be spared, to accompany him to the
large island of Hawaii, round which he was going to make a visitation
tour. Having to wait here for information on some important matters, he
gave us the leave we asked.

"You may take Ben Yool with you also," said he. "The schooner is rather
short-handed, and you will find him useful at all events."

Jerry and I were highly pleased with this, for Ben was a great
favourite. We were soon ready with our rifles and knapsacks, not
forgetting to take old Surley with us; it was a long time since the poor
fellow had had a run on shore.

"Take care that the natives don't cook and eat him," said Mr Renshaw,
as we shoved off.

The little mission-schooner, the _Dove_, was in readiness to receive us,
and in a few minutes, with a fair breeze, we were standing away to the
southward, towards the large island of Hawaii, or Owhyhee, on the shores
of which the immortal Cook lost his life.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

EXCURSION IN HAWAII.

We had a pleasant run for two days, with a light wind, and hoped the
next morning to land at Kailua, the capital of the island of Owhyhee;
but at sunset a sudden squall struck the little vessel, and had not Ben
Yool been at the helm, and instantly luffed up, while Jerry and I let
fly the foresheet, we should in all probability have been over, and
become food for the sharks. It came on very dark and blowy; and as it
was too late to make a harbour, we gave the shore a wide berth, and ran
on. The next forenoon, when we made the land, we found that we were to
the southward of Kailua. As we stood in, Mr Callard told us that on
the shore of Karakakooa Bay, which was before us, Captain Cook met his
death, and that he would show us the very spot where that event
happened. I felt as interested as if I were about to visit classic
ground. Often and often as I had been reading through Cook's Voyages
with delight, I little thought that I should