After spending a day at Kailua, the capital of the island, where there is a fort and a governor, and where several merchants reside to supply whalers with provisions, we embarked once more on board the schooner, and ran round the south of the island to a small harbour in the neighbourhood of Whyhohino, a chief missionary-station.  We were received very kindly by the missionaries, and they procured us horses to enable us to accomplish one of the chief objects which had brought us to the place--a visit to the summit of the great volcano of Kilauea.  They also found us two guides who were to accompany us to the crater, while two other men were to remain with the horses below.  Mr Callard himself had his duties to attend to, so that he could not accompany us.  Ben Yool had been left with the schooner, so our party consisted of Mr McRitchie, Cousin Silas, Jerry, and I, not forgetting old Surley.  He always kept close to us, suspecting, perhaps, if the natives caught him, they might cook and eat him.  We were well supplied with provisions, and with bottles of water, which we could replenish on the way.  We travelled at first along the coast, and then struck inland, directing our course towards the lofty summit of the mountain, whence, even at that distance, we could see pillars of smoke ascending to the sky.  It was getting dark when our guides told us that close at hand was a cavern in which we might pass the night sheltered from the weather.  Torches of resinous wood were soon procured, and they led the way down a steep path, till we found ourselves at the entrance of an immense cavern formed in the lava.  It was some hundred feet square, and from fifteen to twenty high.  When lighted up by the torches, it had a very wild and picturesque appearance.  The horses were tethered in one part, while we all went out and collected grass and fern leaves for our beds, and a good supply of fuel for our fire.  Having cooked our supper, we sat round the fire, while one of the natives, who spoke English very well, told us some of the wonderful tales about Pele, the goddess of the burning mountain, and her numerous diabolical followers.  Though our guides were now Christians, and professed to disbelieve all these fables, it was evident that their minds were considerably affected by them; so difficult is it to get rid of early associations.  The cavern had become rather smoky, and Mr Brand had gone out to enjoy the cool air, when he called us to him.  We looked towards the mountain, which rose in majestic grandeur before us, the summit crowned by wreaths of flame, which rose and fell as if impelled by some secret power within. After admiring it for some time, we returned to our bandit-looking abode for the night.