During our absence, the native men had gathered a quantity of ohelo
berries, resembling cranberries, but tasting like blueberries, not so
sweet perhaps, but like them seedless; they were very nice with sugar,
so we added them to our bill of fare. Remind me of those berries
to-morrow, and I'll tell you a story about them.

Now for supper.

X.

A Story about Kapiolani.

As I entered the sitting-room, I was greeted by a chorus of voices
saying, "Aunty, the berries, you know!" So I began.

* * * * *

A good while ago, when the missionaries first went to the Hawaiian
Islands, a princess lived there named Kapiolani, the daughter of
Keawemauhili. She was a portly person, as most in high rank were, having
an engaging countenance, a keen black eye, and black hair put up by a
comb. She dressed in a civilized fashion, and used chairs and tables.
Her husband's name was Naihe. In the year 1825, only five years after
the mission was commenced, Kapiolani was living at Kaawaloa. Many of her
countrymen still supposed that the volcano was the abode of a powerful
goddess, whose name was Pele. They were very superstitious, and
reverenced and feared to anger this goddess.

Kapiolani had become a Christian, and felt sorry for her poor people who
were still in the darkness of paganism, and determined to break the
spell that bound them. So she announced her intention to visit the
crater of Kilauea, and call upon the goddess to do her worst. Her
husband and many others endeavored to dissuade her, but she was not to
be moved from her purpose. She traveled, mostly on foot, over a rough
and desolate road, a distance of about a hundred miles.

As she drew near the volcano, she was met by one who claimed to be a
prophetess of Pele, and threatened her with the displeasure of the
goddess, should she come into her domains on this hostile errand. She
was told that she would certainly perish if she went to the crater.
Kapiolani disregarded the impostor, and went on. Those ohelo berries
which I spoke of in my last story were sacred to Pele, and no one dared
to eat them unless they had first offered some to the goddess. But
Kapiolani gathered and ate them. "She and her company of about eighty,"
said Mr. Bingham, "accompanied by a missionary, descended from the rim
of the crater to the black ledge. There, in full view of the terrific
panorama before them, she threw in the berries, and calmly addressed the
com