He had been previously told that the citizens were in a state of panic, and that the natives were sullen and discontented. He thought there might be some grounds for the fear of a revolt, and decided that he had better examine his defences.
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: