Walking round among the guns, he noticed that they were pointed at various
groups of houses. He asked what these buildings were that lay in the line
of fire.

"Just houses," he was told. "Residences."

"Do rebels or suspected rebels live in them?" he asked.

"Why, no," he was told. "Citizens."

The Colonel was so astonished at this that he did not know what to say.

He didn't wonder that the people were dissatisfied and frightened.

For months they had lived with the knowledge that the big guns were
trained upon them, and that at any moment a careless or frightened soldier
might pull the lanyard, fire a cannon off, and blow half Honolulu to
smithereens.

He did not say much, but felt that he would have to make many changes in
affairs, and went to bed to think things over.

He was awakened in the middle of the night by cries of:

"Hi! hi! hi! there! Say! It's half-past two."

It took him some time to realize that this was the soldierly manner in
which the Hawaiian army changed the guard, and when the truth finally
dawned upon him, he laughed himself to sleep over the comic army he was