Their work speaks for itself.

CHAPTER LXV.

By and by, after a rugged climb, we halted on the summit of a hill which commanded a far-reaching view.  The moon rose and flooded mountain and valley and ocean with a mellow radiance, and out of the shadows of the foliage the distant lights of Honolulu glinted like an encampment of fireflies.  The air was heavy with the fragrance of flowers.  The halt was brief.—­Gayly laughing and talking, the party galloped on, and I clung to the pommel and cantered after.  Presently we came to a place where no grass grew—­a wide expanse of deep sand.  They said it was an old battle ground.  All around everywhere, not three feet apart, the bleached bones of men gleamed white in the moonlight.  We picked up a lot of them for mementoes.  I got quite a number of arm bones and leg bones —­of great chiefs, may be, who had fought savagely in that fearful battle in the old days, when blood flowed like wine where we now stood—­and wore the choicest of them out on Oahu afterward, trying to make him go.  All sorts of bones could be found except skulls; but a citizen said, irreverently, that there had been an unusual number of “skull-hunters” there lately—­a species of sportsmen I had never heard of before.

Nothing whatever is known about this place—­its story is a secret that will never be revealed.  The oldest natives make no pretense of being possessed of its history.  They say these bones were here when they were children.  They were here when their grandfathers were children—­but how they came here, they can only conjecture.  Many people believe this spot to be an ancient battle-ground, and it is usual to call it so; and they believe that these skeletons have lain for ages just where their proprietors fell in the great fight.  Other people believe that Kamehameha I. fought his first battle here.  On this point, I have heard a story, which may have been taken from one of the numerous books which have been written concerning these islands—­I do not know where the narrator got it.  He said that when Kamehameha (who was at first merely a subordinate chief on the island of Hawaii), landed here, he brought a large army with him, and encamped at Waikiki.  The Oahuans marched against him, and so confident were they of success that they readily acceded to a demand of their priests that they should draw a line where these bones now lie, and take an oath that, if forced to retreat at all, they would never retreat beyond this boundary.  The priests told them that death and everlasting punishment would overtake any who violated the oath, and the march was resumed.  Kamehameha drove them back step by step; the priests fought in the front rank and exhorted them both by voice and inspiriting example to remember their oath—­to die, if need be, but never cross the fatal line.  The struggle was manfully maintained, but at last the chief priest fell, pierced to the heart with a