She came to the very edge of the crater. To come so far without
offering hogs and fish to the fiery goddess was in itself enough to
bring a fiery river of molten lava upon her. Kapiolani offered nothing
save defiance. Audacity, they thought, could go no further.

Here, a priestess of Pélé came, and raising her hands in threat
denounced death on the head of Kapiolani if she came further.
Kapiolani pulled from her robe a book. In it--for it was her
New Testament--she read to the priestess of the one true, loving
Father-God.

Then Kapiolani did a thing at which the very limbs of those who
watched trembled and shivered. She went to the edge of the crater and
stepped over onto a jutting rock and let herself down and down toward
the sulphurous burning lake. The ground cracked under her feet and
sulphurous steam hissed through crevices in the rock, as though the
demons of Pélé fumed in their frenzy. Hundreds of staring, wondering
eyes followed her, fascinated and yet horrified.

Then she stood on a ledge of rock, and, offering up prayer and praise
to the God of all, Who made the volcano and Who made her, she cast the
Pélé berries into the lake, and sent stone after stone down into the
flaming lava. It was the most awful insult that could be offered to
Pélé! Now surely she would leap up in fiery anger, and, with a hail
of burning stones, consume Kapiolani. But nothing happened; and
Kapiolani, turning, climbed the steep ascent of the crater edge and at
last stood again unharmed among her people. She spoke to her people,
telling them again that Jehovah made the fires. She called on them all
to sing to His praise and, for the first time, there rang across the