he story of the road,
and why it was built:

Some years ago a Scotchman, broken in health and expecting an early
death, sought out this lonely spot, because here the climate was
favourable to the disease from which he suffered. He settled here
for what remained to him of life.

He bought an estate of several hundred acres, and threw himself
earnestly into the life of the natives of the island. There was
great division among the many chiefs, and prolonged warfare. Very
soon the chiefs found that this alien from a strange land was their
best friend. They began coming to him for counsel, and invited him
to their most important conferences.

Though he did not bear that name, he became a missionary to them.
He was their hero, and they loved and trusted him because he tried
to lead them aright. They had never had such a friend. And so it
came about that when the wars ceased, the chiefs of both sides
called him by a name of their own, and made him one of their own
number, thus conferring upon him the highest honour within their
power.

But many of the chiefs were still in prison, because of their
political views or deeds, and in constant danger of being put to
death. Their sole friend was the Scotchman, whom they called
Tusitala. He visited them, comforted them, repeated passages from
the history of Christ to them, and busied himself incessantly to
effect their release.

At length he obtained their freedom, and then, glowing with
gratitude, in despite of age, decrepitude, and loss of strength,
they started directly for the estate of their benefactor, and
there, in the terrible heat, they laboured for weeks in building
him a road which they knew he had long desired. Love conquered
weakness, and they did not cease their toil until their handiwork,
which they called "The Road of the Loving Heart," was finished.

Not long after this the white chief suddenly died. At the news the
native chiefs flocked from all parts of the island to the house,
and took charge of the body. They kissed his hand as they came in,
and all night sat in silence about him. One of them, a feeble old
man, threw himself on his knees beside the body of his benefactor,
and cried out between his sobs:

"I am only a poor black man, and ignorant. Yet I am not afraid to