a, 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