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Title: The Legends and Myths of Hawaii - The fables and folk-lore of a strange people
Author: Kalakaua, David
Language: English
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THE LEGENDS AND MYTHS
OF
HAWAII.
THE FABLES AND FOLK-LORE
OF A
STRANGE PEOPLE.
BY
HIS HAWAIIAN MAJESTY KALAKAUA.
EDITED AND WITH AN INTRODUCTION
BY
HON. R. M. DAGGETT,
Late United States Minister to the Hawaiian Islands.
New York:
CHARLES L. WEBSTER & COMPANY.
1888.
PREFACE.
For material in the compilation of many of the legends embraced in
this volume obligation is acknowledged to H. R. H. Liliuokalani;
General John Owen Dominis; His Excellency Walter M. Gibson; Professor
W. D. Alexander; Mrs. E. Beckley, Government Librarian; Mr. W. James
Smith, Secretary of the National Board of Education; and especially
to Hon. Abram Fornander, the learned author of "An Account of the
Polynesian Race, its Origin and Migrations."
The legends, in the order of their publication, beginning with
the first and ending with "The Destruction of the Temples," may be
regarded, so far as they refer to the prominent political events with
which they are associated, as in a measure historic. Those following
have been selected as the most striking and characteristic of what
remains of the fabulous folk-lore of the Hawaiian group.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
Preface. 5
Hawaiian Legends: Introduction. 9-65
Hina, the Helen of Hawaii. 67-94
The Royal Hunchback. 95-113
The Triple Marriage of Laa-mai-kahiki. 115-135
The Apotheosis of Pele. 137-154
Hua, King of Hana. 155-173
The Iron Knife. 175-205
The Sacred Spear-Point. 207-225
Kelea, the Surf-Rider of Maui. 227-246
Umi, the Peasant Prince of Hawaii. 247-315
Lono and Kaikilani. 317-331
The Adventures of Iwikauikaua. 333-349
The Prophecies of Keaulumoku. 351-367
The Cannibals of Halemanu. 369-380
Kaiana, the Last of the Hawaiian Knights. 381-408
Kaala, the Flower of Lanai. 409-427
The Destruction of the Temples. 429-446
The Tomb of Puupehe. 447-452
The Story of Laieikawai. 453-480
Lohiau, the Lover of a Goddess. 481-497
Kahavari, Chief of Puna. 499-507
Kahalaopuna, the Princess of Manoa. 509-522
Appendix. 523-530
THE LEGENDS AND MYTHS OF HAWAII.
HAWAIIAN LEGENDS: INTRODUCTION.
Physical Characteristics of the Hawaiian Islands--Historic
Outlines--The Tabu--Ancient Religion--Ancient Government--Ancient
Arts, Habits and Customs--The Hawaii of To-day.
GENERAL RETROSPECT.
The legends following are of a group of sunny islands lying almost
midway between Asia and America--a cluster of volcanic craters and
coral-reefs, where the mountains are mantled in perpetual green and
look down upon valleys of eternal spring; where for two-thirds of
the year the trade-winds, sweeping down from the northwest coast
of America and softened in their passage southward, dally with the
stately cocoas and spreading palms, and mingle their cooling breath
with the ever-living fragrance of fruit and blossom. Deeply embosomed
in the silent wastes of the broad Pacific, with no habitable land
nearer than two thousand miles, these islands greet the eye of the
approaching mariner like a shadowy paradise, suddenly lifted from
the blue depths by the malicious spirits of the world of waters,
either to lure him to his destruction or disappear as he drops his
anchor by the enchanted shore.
The legends are of a little archipelago which was unknown to the
civilized world until the closing years of the last century, and of
a people who for many centuries exchanged no word or product with the
rest of mankind; who had lost all knowledge, save the little retained
by the dreamiest of legends, of the great world beyond their island
home; whose origin may be traced to the ancient Cushites of Arabia,
and whose legends repeat the story of the Jewish genesis; who developed
and passed through an age of chivalry somewhat more barbarous, perhaps,
but scarcely less affluent in deeds of enterprise and valor than that
which characterized the contemporaneous races of the continental
world; whose chiefs and priests claimed kinship with the gods, and
step by step told back their lineage not only to him who rode the
floods, but to the sinning pair whose re-entrance to the forfeited
joys of Paradise was prevented by the large, white bird of Kane;
who fought without shields and went to their death without fear;
whose implements of war and industry were of wood, stone and bone,
yet who erected great temples to their gods, and constructed barges
and canoes which they navigated by the stars; who peopled the elements
with spirits, reverenced the priesthood, bowed to the revelations of
their prophets, and submitted without complaint to the oppressions
of the tabu; who observed the rite of circumcision, built places of
refuge after the manner of the ancient Israelites, and held sacred the
religious legends of the priests and chronological meles of the chiefs.
As the mind reverts to the past of the Hawaiian group, and dwells for
a moment upon the shadowy history of its people, mighty forms rise
and disappear--men of the stature of eight or nine feet, crowned with
helmets of feathers and bearing spears thirty feet in length. Such
men were Kiha, and Liloa, and Umi, and Lono, all kings of Hawaii
during the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries; and little less in bulk
and none the less in valor was the great Kamehameha, who conquered
and consolidated the several islands under one government, and died
as late as 1819. And beside Umi, whose life was a romance, stands
his humble friend Maukaleoleo, who, with his feet upon the ground,
could reach the cocoanuts of standing trees; and back of him in the
past is seen Kana, the son of Hina, whose height was measured by paces.
And, glancing still farther backward through the centuries, we behold
adventurous chiefs, in barges and double canoes a hundred feet in
length, making the journey between the Hawaiian and more southern
groups, guided only by the sun and stars. Later we see battles,
with dusky thousands in line. The warriors are naked to the loins,
and are armed with spears, slings, clubs, battle-axes, javelins and
knives of wood or ivory. They have neither bows nor shields. They
either catch with their hands or ward with their own the weapons
that are thrown. Their chiefs, towering above them in stature, have
thrown off their gaudy feather cloaks and helmets, and, with spear
and stone halberd, are at the front of battle. The opposing forces
are so disposed as to present a right and left wing and centre, the
king or principal chief commanding the latter in person. In the rear
of each hostile line are a large number of women with calabashes
of food and water with which to refresh their battling fathers,
husbands and brothers. While the battle rages their wails, cries
and prayers are incessant, and when defeat menaces their friends
they here and there take part in the combat. The augurs have been
consulted, sacrifices and promises to the gods have been made, and,
as the warring lines approach, the war-gods of the opposing chiefs,
newly decorated and attended by long-haired priests, are borne to the
front. War-cries and shouts of defiance follow. The priests retire,
and the slingers open the battle. Spears are thrown, and soon the
struggle is hand-to-hand all over the field. They fight in groups
and squads around their chiefs and leaders, who range the field in
search of enemies worthy of their weapons. No quarter is given or
expected. The first prisoners taken are reserved as offerings to the
gods, and are regarded as the most precious of sacrifices. Finally
the leading chief of one of the opposing armies falls. A desperate
struggle over his body ensues, and his dispirited followers begin
to give ground and are soon in retreat. Some escape to a stronghold
in the neighboring mountains, and a few, perhaps, to a temple of
refuge; but the most of them are overtaken and slain. The prisoners
who are spared become the slaves of their captors, and the victory
is celebrated with feasting and bountiful sacrifices to the gods.
This is a representative battle of the past, either for the supremacy
of rival chiefs or in repelling invasion from a neighboring island. But
here and there we catch glimpses of actual conflicts indicative of
the warlike spirit and chivalry of the early Hawaiians. Far back
in the past we see the beautiful Hina abducted from her Hawaiian
husband by a prince of Molokai, and kept a prisoner in the fortress
of Haupu until her sons grow to manhood, when she is rescued at the
end of an assault which leaves the last of her defenders dead. Later
we see the eight hundred helmeted chiefs of the king of Hawaii,
all of noble blood, hurling themselves to destruction against the
spears of the armies of Maui on the plains of Wailuku. And then,
less than a generation after, Kamehameha is seen in the last battle
of the conquest, when, at the head of sixteen thousand warriors, he
sweeps the Oahuan army over the precipice of Nuuanu and becomes the
master of the archipelago. Finally we behold Kekuaokalani, the last
defender in arms of the Hawaiian gods and temples, trampling upon
the edict of the king against the worship of his fathers, and dying,
with his faithful wife Manono, on the field of Kuamoo.
In the midst of these scenes of blood the eye rests with relief upon
numerous episodes of love, friendship and self-sacrifice touching with
a softening color the ruddy canvas of the past. We see Kanipahu, the
exiled king of Hawaii, delving like a common laborer on a neighboring
island, and refusing to accept anew the sceptre in his old age because
his back had become crooked with toil and he could no longer look
over the heads of his subjects as became a Hawaiian king. We see Umi,
a rustic youth of royal mien and mighty proportions, boldly leap the
palace-walls of the great Liloa, push aside the spears of the guards,
enter the royal mansion, seat himself in the lap of the king, and
through the exhibition of a forgotten token of love receive instant
recognition as his son. And now Lono, the royal great-grandson of
Umi, rises before us, and we see him lured from self-exile by the
voice of his queen, reaching him in secret from without the walls
of the sovereign court of Oahu, to return to Hawaii and triumph
over his enemies. These and many other romantic incidents present
themselves in connection with the early Hawaiian kings and princes,
and are offered in the succeeding pages with every detail of interest
afforded by available tradition.
PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS.
A few general remarks concerning the physical characteristics of
the Hawaiian Islands would seem to be appropriate in presenting a
collection of legends dealing alike with the history and folk-lore
of their people. The islands occupy a place in a great waste of the
Pacific between the nineteenth and twenty-third degrees of north
latitude, and the one hundred and fifty-fourth and one hundred and
sixty-first degrees of longitude west from Greenwich. They are two
thousand one hundred miles southwest from San Francisco, and about
the same distance from Tahiti.
The group consists of ten islands, including two that are little
more than barren rocks. The farthest are about three hundred miles
from each other, measuring from their extreme boundaries, and their
aggregate area is a little more than six thousand one hundred square
miles. Of the eight principal islands all are habitable, although
the small islands of Niihau and Kahoolawe are used almost exclusively
as cattle-ranges.
The most of the shores of the several islands are fringed with coral,
but their origin seems to be indisputably shown in the numerous
craters of extinct volcanoes scattered throughout the group, and in
the mighty fires still blazing from the mountain-heights of Hawaii.
By far the larger part of the area of the islands is mountainous; but
from the interior elevations, some of them reaching altitudes of from
ten to fourteen thousand feet, flow many small streams of sweet water,
widening into fertile valleys as they reach the coast, while here and
there between them alluvial plateaus have been left by the upland wash.
With rare exceptions the mountain-sides are covered with vegetation,
some of sturdy growth, capable of being wrought into building materials
and canoes, while lower down the ohia, the palm, the banana, and the
bread-fruit stand clothed in perpetual green, with groves of stately
cocoas between them and the sea.
Once the fragrant sandal-wood was abundant in the mountains, but
it became an article of commerce with the natives in their early
intercourse with the white races, and is now rarely seen. Once the
valleys and plateaus were covered with growing taro and potatoes; now
the cane and rice of the foreigner have usurped the places of both,
and in the few shaded spots that have been left him the forgiving
and revengeless Hawaiian sadly chants his wild songs of the past.
Neither within the memory of men nor the reach of their legends,
which extend back more than a thousand years, has there been an active
volcano in the group beyond the large island of Hawaii, which embraces
two-thirds of the solid area of the archipelago. The mighty crater
of Haleakala, more than thirty miles in circumference, on the island
of Maui, has slept in peace among the clouds for ages, and hundreds
of lesser and lower craters, many of them covered with vegetation,
are found scattered among the mountains and foot-hills of the group;
but their fires have long been extinct, and the scoria and ashes buried
at their bases tell the story of their activity far back in the past.
It must have been a sight too grand for human eyes to witness when
all these dead volcanic peaks, aglow with sulphurous flames, lit up
the moonless midnights of the eight Hawaiian seas with their combined
bombardment of the heavens!
On the island of Hawaii alone have the fires of nature remained
unextinguished. At intervals during the past thousand years or more
have Mauna Kea, Mauna Hualalai and Mauna Loa sent their devastating
streams of lava to the sea, and to-day the awful, restless and
ever-burning caldron of Kilauea, nearly a mile in circumference,
is the grandest conflagration that lights up the earth. Within its
lurid depths, in fiery grottoes and chambers of burning crystal,
dwell Pele and her companions, and offerings are still thrown to them
by superstitious natives. Do they yet believe in these deities after
more than sixty years of Christian teaching? after their temples
have been leveled and their gods have been destroyed? after their
tabus have been broken and their priesthood has been dethroned and
dishonored? The only answer is, "The offerings are still made."
Although the channel and ocean coasts of the islands are generally
bold, rocky and precipitous, there are numerous bays and indentations
partially sheltered by reefs and headlands, and many stretches of
smooth and yellow beach, where the waves, touched by the kona, or
the trade-wind's breath, chase each other high up among the cocoa's
roots and branches of the humble hau-tree clinging to the sands. The
harbor of Honolulu, on the island of Oahu, is the only one, however,
where passengers and freights of ocean crafts may be received or
landed without the aid of lighters.
The most of the useful and ornamental growths of the tropics now
flourish on the islands. The indigenous plants, however, are confined
to the banana, plantain, cocoanut, breadfruit, ohia, sugar-cane,
arrow-root, yam, sweet potato, taro, strawberry, raspberry and
ohelo. The lime, orange, mango, tamarind, papaia, guava, and every
other edible product, aside from those named as indigenous, are
importations of the past century.
The only domestic animals of the ancient Hawaiians were dogs,
swine and fowls, and the most formidable four-legged creatures
found in their fields and forests were mice and lizards. Wild geese,
including a species peculiar to the islands, ducks, snipe and plover
were abundant in their seasons, but seem to have been sparely eaten;
and owls, bats, and a few varieties of birds of simple song and not
over-brilliant plumage made up about the sum total of animal life
on the islands a hundred years ago. But the native could well afford
to be content with this limited provision, since it did not include
snakes, mosquitoes, centipedes, tarantulas, or scorpions.
To what processes of creation or isolation do the Hawaiian Islands
owe their existence? Were they raised from the depths of the ocean by
volcanic action, as plainly suggested by their formation? or are they
a part of a great sunken continent which speculation, sustained by
misty tradition, claims once occupied the Polynesian seas? Hawaiian
meles mention islands no longer to be found, and the facility with
which communication was maintained between the Hawaiian and more
southern groups previous to the twelfth century renders plausible the
assumption that this intercourse was abruptly terminated six or seven
centuries ago by the disappearance of a number of intervening atolls or
islands which had served as guides to early Polynesian navigators. The
gigantic ruins of temples and other structures found on Easter and one
or two other islands of the equatorial Pacific are almost unanswerable
arguments in favor of the theory of a sunken Polynesian continent;
but the question will probably never be removed beyond the field
of surmise.
HISTORIC OUTLINES.
The source and early history of the Hawaiian people, and, in fact,
of the Polynesian race, of which they are a part, are involved in
doubt. They have generally been regarded as an offshoot of the great
Malayan family; but more recent as well as more thorough investigation,
particularly by Judge Fornander, the learned and conscientious
historian, with reasonable conclusiveness shows the Polynesian and
Malayan races to be of distinct and widely different origin.
Accepting this conclusion, we trace the strictly Polynesian tribes to
an Aryan beginning, somewhere in Asia Minor or Arabia. There, in the
remote past, it is assumed, they were brought in close contact with
early Cushite and Chaldeo-Arabian civilizations. Subsequently drifting
into India, they to some extent amalgamated with the Dravidian races,
and, following the channels of the great Chaldean commerce of that
period, at length found a home in the Asiatic archipelago from Sumatra
to Luzon and Timor.
The exact time of their settlement on the large coast islands of
southern Asia cannot be definitely determined, but their legends and
genealogies leave little room to doubt that it was contemporaneous
with the Malay and Hindoo invasions of Sumatra, Java, and other
islands of the archipelago, during the first and second centuries
of the Christian era, that the Polynesians were pushed out--not at
once in a body, but by families and communities covering a period of
years--to the smaller and more remote islands of the Pacific.
Their first general rendezvous was in the Fiji group, where they left
their impress upon the native Papuans. Expelled from, or voluntarily
leaving, the Fijis, after a sojourn there of several generations,
the Polynesians scattered over the Pacific, occupying by stages the
several groups of islands where they are now found. Moving by the way
of the Samoan and Society Islands, the migratory wave did not reach
the Hawaiian group until about the middle of the sixth century.
Nanaula, a distinguished chief, was the first to arrive from the
southern islands. It is not known whether he discovered the group by
being blown northward by adverse winds, or in deliberately adventuring
far out upon the ocean in search of new lands. In either event, he
brought with him his gods, priests, prophets and astrologers, and a
considerable body of followers and retainers. He was also provided
with dogs, swine and fowls, and the seeds and germs of useful plants
for propagation. It is probable that he found the group without
human inhabitants.
During that period--probably during the life of Nanaula--other chiefs
of less importance arrived with their families and followers either
from Tahiti or Samoa. They came in barges and large double canoes
capable of accommodating from fifty to one hundred persons each. They
brought with them not only their priests and gods, but the earliest
of Polynesian traditions. It is thought that none of the pioneers of
the time of Nanaula ever returned to the southern islands, nor did
others immediately follow the first migratory wave that peopled the
Hawaiian group.
For thirteen or fourteen generations the first occupants of the
Hawaiian Islands lived sequestered from the rest of the world,
multiplying and spreading throughout the group. They erected temples to
their gods, maintained their ancient religion, and yielded obedience
to their chiefs. The traditions of the period are so meagre as to
leave the impression that it was one of uninterrupted peace, little
having been preserved beyond the genealogies of the governing chiefs.
But late in the tenth or early in the beginning of the eleventh century
the Hawaiians were aroused from their dream of more than four centuries
by the arrival of a party of adventurers from the southern islands,
probably from the Society group. It was under the leadership of
Nanamaoa. He was a warlike chief, and succeeded in establishing his
family in power on Hawaii, Maui and Oahu. But stronger leaders were
soon to follow from the south. Among the first was the high-priest
Paao, from Samoa. He arrived during the reign of Kapawa, the grandson
of Nanamaoa, or immediately after his death. The people were in an
unsettled condition politically, and Paao, grasping the situation,
either sent or returned in person to Samoa for Pili, a distinguished
chief of that island. Arriving with a large following, Pili assumed
the sovereignty of the island of Hawaii and founded a new dynasty. Paao
became his high-priest, and somewhat disturbed the religious practices
of the people by the introduction of new rites and two or three
new gods. However, his religion did not seem to differ greatly from
that of the native priests, and from him the last of the priesthood,
seven hundred years after, claimed lineage and right of place.
The intercourse thus established between the Hawaiian and southern
groups by Nanamaoa, Paao and Pili continued for about one hundred
and fifty years, or until the middle or close of the twelfth
century. During that period several other warlike families from the
south established themselves in the partial or complete sovereignty of
Oahu, Maui and Kauai, and expeditions were frequent between the group
and other distant islands of Polynesia. It was a season of unusual
activity, and the legends of the time are filled with stories of love,
conquest and perilous voyages to and from the southern islands.
In that age, when distant voyages were frequent, the Polynesians were
bold and intelligent navigators. In addition to large double canoes
capable of withstanding the severest weather, they possessed capacious
barges, with planks corded and calked upon strong frames. They
were decked over and carried ample sail. Their navigators had some
knowledge of the stars; knew the prominent planets and gave them
names; were acquainted with the limits of the ecliptic and situation
of the equator. With these helps, and keenly watchful of the winds
and currents, of ocean drifts and flights of birds, they seldom failed
to reach their destination, however distant.
Near the close of the twelfth century all communication between the
Hawaiian and southern groups suddenly ceased. Tradition offers no
explanation of the cause, and conjecture can find no better reason
for it than the possible disappearance at that time of a number
of island landmarks which had theretofore served as guides to the
mariner. The beginning of this period of isolation found the entire
group, with the exception, perhaps, of Molokai and a portion of Oahu,
in the possession of the southern chiefs or their descendants.
It has been observed that the first discovery and occupation of the
islands by Polynesians from the Society and Samoan groups occurred
in the sixth century, and that more than four hundred years later a
second migratory tide from the same and possibly other southern islands
reached the coasts of Hawaii, continuing for more than a century and
a half, and completely changing the political, and to some extent
the social, condition of the people. Although nearly five centuries
elapsed between the first and second migratory influxes from the south,
during which the inhabitants of the group held no communication with
the rest of the world, it is a curious fact that the Pili, Paumakua,
and other chiefly families of the second influx traced back their
lineage to the ancestors of the chiefs of the first migration, and
made good their claim to the relationship by the recital of legends
and genealogies common to both.
At the close of the second migratory period, which concluded their
intercourse with the world beyond them for more than six hundred years,
or from A.D. 1175 to 1778, the people of the group had very generally
transferred their allegiance to the newly-arrived chiefs. The notable
exceptions were the Maweke and Kamauaua families of Oahu and Molokai,
both of the ancient Nanaula line. Although they were gradually
crowded from their possessions by their more energetic invaders, the
high descent of the prominent native chiefs was recognized, and by
intermarriage their blood was allowed to mingle with the royal currents
which have flowed down the centuries since they ceased to rule.
A mere outline of the political history of the islands from the twelfth
century to the nineteenth is all that will be given here. The legends
following will supply much that will be omitted to avoid repetition.
Until the final conquest of the group by Kamehameha I. at the
close of the last century, the five principal islands of the
archipelago--Hawaii, Maui, Oahu, Kauai and Molokai--were each governed,
as a rule, by one or more independent chiefs. The smaller islands of
Lanai and Kahoolawe were usually subject to Maui, while Niihau always
shared the political fate of Kauai.
On each island, however, were descendants of distinguished ancient
chiefs and heroes, who were recognized as of superior or royal
blood, and with them originated the supreme chiefs, kings, or mois
of the several islands, whose lines continued in authority, with
interruptions of insurrection and royal feuds, until the consolidation
of the group by Kamehameha. No one was recognized as a tabu chief
unless his genealogical record showed him to be of noble blood,
and intermarriage between the ruling families, as well as between
the lesser chiefs of the several islands, in time united the entire
aristocracy of the group by ties of blood, and gave to all of royal
strain a common and distinguished ancestry. The nobility and hereditary
priesthood claimed to be of a stock different from that of the common
people, and their superior stature and intelligence seemed to favor
the assumption. To keep pure the blood of the chiefly classes, far
back in the past a college of heraldry was established, before which
all chiefs were required to recite their genealogies and make good
their claims to noble descent.
The legends of the group abound in stories of romantic and sanguinary
internal conflicts, and political and predatory wars between the
islands; but down to the time of Kamehameha but a single attempt had
been made to subjugate the entire archipelago. This bold scheme was
entertained by a king of the island of Hawaii who reigned during the
latter part of the thirteenth century. He succeeded in overrunning
Maui, Oahu and Molokai, but was defeated and taken prisoner on Kauai.
Without further reference to the intervening years from the twelfth
century to the eighteenth--a long period of wars, festivals,
tournaments, and royal and priestly pageantry--we will now glance
at the condition of the islands at the time of their discovery by
Captain Cook, a little more than a century ago. It was estimated
that the islands then contained a population of four hundred thousand
souls. This estimate has been considered large. But when it is noted
that fifteen years later there were between thirty and forty thousand
warriors under arms in the group at the same time, with large reserves
ready for service, the conclusion is irresistible that the population
could scarcely have been less. Kamehameha invaded Oahu with sixteen
thousand warriors, principally drawn from the island of Hawaii. He was
opposed by eight or ten thousand spears, while as many more awaited
his arrival on Kauai. According to the figures of the Rev. Mr. Ellis,
who travelled around the island of Hawaii in 1821 and numbered the
dwellings and congregations addressed by him in the several coast
districts through which he passed, the number of people on that island
alone could not have been less than one hundred and fifteen thousand.
At the time of the arrival of Captain Cook, Kalaniopuu, of the
ancient line of Pili, was king of the large island of Hawaii, and also
maintained possession of a portion of the island of Maui. Kahekili,
"the thunderer," as his name implied, was moi of Maui, and the
principal wife of Kalaniopuu was his sister. Kahahana, who was also
related to Kahekili, was the king of Oahu and claimed possession of
Molokai and Lanai. Kamakahelei was the nominal queen of Kauai and
Niihau, and her husband was a younger brother to Kahekili, while she
was related to the royal family of Hawaii. Thus, it will be seen,
the reigning families of the several islands of the group were all
related to each other, as well by marriage as by blood. So had it
been for many generations. But their wars with each other were none
the less vindictive because of their kinship, or attended with less
of barbarity in their hours of triumph.
At that time Kahekili was plotting for the downfall of Kahahana and the
seizure of Oahu and Molokai, and the queen of Kauai was disposed to
assist him in these enterprises. The occupation of the Hana district
of Maui by the kings of Hawaii had been the cause of many stubborn
conflicts between the chivalry of the two islands, and when Captain
Cook first landed on Hawaii he found the king of that island absent on
another warlike expedition to Maui, intent upon avenging his defeat
of two years before, when his famous brigade of eight hundred nobles
was hewn in pieces.
Connected with the court of Kalaniopuu at that time was a silent and
taciturn chief, who had thus far attracted but little attention as a
military leader. He was a man of gigantic mould, and his courage and
prowess in arms were undoubted; yet he seldom smiled or engaged in the
manly sports so attractive to others, and his friends were the few who
discerned in him a slumbering greatness which subsequently gave him
a name and fame second to no other in Hawaiian history. He was the
reputed and accepted son of Keoua, the half-brother of Kalaniopuu,
although it was believed by many that his real father was Kahekili,
moi of Maui. But, however this may have been, he was of royal blood,
and was destined to become not only the king of Hawaii, but the
conqueror and sovereign of the group. This chief was Kamehameha.
Such, in brief, was the political condition of the islands when
Captain Cook arrived. He was an officer in the English navy, and,
with the war-ships Resolution and Discovery, was on a voyage in search
of a northwest passage eastward from Behring's Straits. Leaving the
Society group in December, 1777, on the 18th of the following month
he sighted Oahu and Kauai. Landing on the latter island and Niihau,
he was received as a god by the natives, and his ships were provided
with everything they required. Without then visiting the other islands
of the group, he left for the northwest coast of America on the 2d of
February, 1778, and in November of that year returned to the islands,
first sighting the shores of Molokai and Maui. Communicating with the
wondering natives of the latter island, he sailed around the coasts of
Hawaii, and on the 17th of January dropped his anchors in Kealakeakua
Bay. He was hailed as a reincarnation of their god Lono by the people,
and the priests conducted him to their temples and accorded him divine
honors. Returning from his campaign in Maui, the king visited and
treated him as a god, and his ships were bountifully supplied with
pigs, fowls, vegetables and fruits. The ships left the bay on the
4th of February, but, meeting with a storm, returned on the 8th for
repairs. Petty bickerings soon after occurred between the natives and
white sailors, and on the 13th one of the ships' boats was stolen by
a chief and broken up for its nails and other iron fastenings. Cook
demanded its restoration, and, while endeavoring to take the king on
board the Resolution as a prisoner, was set upon by the natives and
slain. Fire was opened by the ships, and many natives, including four
or five chiefs, were killed. The body of Cook was borne off by the
natives, but the most of the bones were subsequently returned at the
request of Captain King, and the vessels soon after left the island.
If Captain Cook was not the first of European navigators to discover
the Hawaiian Islands, he was at least the first to chart and make
their existence known to the world. It has been pretty satisfactorily
established that Juan Gaetano, the captain of a Spanish galleon sailing
from the Mexican coast to the Spice Islands, discovered the group as
early as 1555. But he did not make his discovery known at the time,
and the existence of an old manuscript chart in the archives of the
Spanish government is all that remains to attest his claim to it.
Native traditions mention the landing of small parties of white men
on two or three occasions during the latter part of the sixteenth
century; but if the faces and ships of other races were seen by the
Hawaiians in the time of Gaetano, their descendants had certainly lost
all knowledge of both two hundred or more years later, for Cook was
welcomed as a supernatural being by the awe-stricken islanders, and
his ships were described by them as floating islands. A simple iron
nail was to them a priceless jewel, and every act and word betrayed
an utter ignorance of everything pertaining to the white races.
Kalaniopuu, the king of Hawaii, died in 1782, and Kamehameha, through
the assistance of three or four prominent chiefs, succeeded, after a
struggle of more than ten years, in securing to himself the supreme
authority over that island. This done, encouraged by the prophets,
assisted by his chiefs, and sustained by an unwavering faith in
his destiny, he conquered Maui, Oahu, Kauai and their dependencies,
and in 1795 was recognized as the sole master of the group.
Although of royal stock, the strain of Kamehameha from the old line of
kings was less direct than that of his cousin, Kiwalao, from whom he
wrested the Hawaiian sceptre; but his military genius rallied around
him the warlike chiefs who were dissatisfied with the division of
lands by the son and successor of Kalaniopuu, and in the end his
triumph was complete. To farther ennoble his succession he married
the daughter of his royal cousin, and thus gave to his children an
undoubted lineage of supreme dignity.
The existence of the Hawaiian Islands became generally known to the
world soon after the final departure of the Resolution and Discovery,
but it was not until 1786 that vessels began to visit the group. The
first to arrive after the death of Captain Cook were the English
ships King George and Queen Charlotte, and the same year a French
exploring squadron touched at Maui. In 1787 several trading vessels
visited the group, and the natives began to barter provisions and
sandal-wood for fire-arms and other weapons of metal.
In 1792, and again in 1793, Captain Vancouver, of an English exploring
squadron, touched and remained for some time at the islands. He landed
sheep, goats and horned cattle, and distributed a quantity of fruit
and garden seeds. His memory is gratefully cherished by the natives,
for his mission was one of peace and broad benevolence. Thenceforward
trading-vessels in considerable numbers visited the group, and during
the concluding wars of Kamehameha the rival chiefs had secured the
assistance of small parties of white men, and to some extent had
learned the use of muskets and small cannon, readily purchased and
paid for in sandal-wood, which was then quite abundant on most of the
timbered mountains of the islands. The harbor of Honolulu was first
discovered and entered by two American vessels in 1794, and it soon
became a favorite resort for the war, trading and whaling vessels of
all nations.
In the midst of these new and trying conditions Kamehameha managed the
affairs of his kingdom with distinguished prudence and sagacity. He
admonished his people to endure with patience the aggressions of the
whites, and to retain, as far as possible, their simple habits. With
his little empire united and peaceful, Kamehameha died on the 8th of
May, 1819, at the age of about eighty; and his bones were so secretly
disposed of that they have not yet been found.
Liholiho, the elder of his sons by Keopuolani, the daughter of
his cousin Kiwalao, succeeded his warlike father with the title of
Kamehameha II. Some knowledge of the Christian religion had reached
the natives through their white visitors, but the old chief died in
the faith of his fathers.
The death of Kamehameha was immediately followed by an event for which
history affords no parallel. In October, 1819--six months before
the first Christian missionaries arrived on the islands--Liholiho,
under the inspiration of Kaahumanu, one of the widows of his father,
suddenly, and in the presence of a large concourse of horrified
natives, broke the most sacred of the tabus of his religion by
partaking of food from vessels from which women were feasting, and
the same day decreed the destruction of every temple and idol in the
kingdom. He was sustained by the high-priest Hewahewa, who was the
first to apply the torch; and within a few weeks idols, temples,
altars, and a priesthood which had held prince and subject in awe
for centuries were swept away, leaving the people absolutely without
a religion.
But all did not peacefully submit to this royal edict against their
gods. In the twilight of that misty period looms up a grand defender of
the faith of Keawe and Umi and the altars of the Hawaiian gods. This
champion was Kekuaokalani, a nephew, perhaps a son, of the first
Kamehameha, and a cousin, perhaps a half-brother, of Liholiho. In his
veins coursed the royal blood of Hawaii, and his bearing was that of
a king. He was above six and one-half feet in height, with limbs well
proportioned and features strikingly handsome and commanding. He was of
the priesthood, and, through the bestowal of some tabu or prerogative,
claimed to be second in authority to Hewahewa, who traced his lineage
back to Paao, the high-priest of Pili. His wife, Manono, was scarcely
less distinguished for her courage, beauty and chiefly strain.
The apostasy of Hewahewa left Kekuaokalani at the head of the
priesthood--at least so he seems to have assumed--and the royal order
to demolish the temples was answered by him with an appeal to the
people to arm and join him in defence of their gods. He raised the
standard of revolt on the island of Hawaii, and was soon at the head
of a considerable army. A large force was sent against him, and every
effort was made to induce him to lay down his arms. But he scorned
all terms, refused all concessions.
A battle was fought at Kuamoo, at first favorable to the defenders
of the gods; but the fire-arms of the whites in the service of the
king turned the tide of war against them, and they were defeated and
scattered. Kekuaokalani was killed on the field, and Manono, his
brave and faithful wife, fighting by his side, fell dead upon the
body of her husband with a musket-ball through her temples. A rude
monument of stones still marks the spot where they fell; and it is
told in whispers that the kona, passing through the shrouding vines,
attunes them to saddest tones of lamentation over the last defenders
in arms of the Hawaiian gods.
Four or five months before the death of Kekuaokalani, Kalaimoku, the
prime minister of Liholiho, and his brother Boki, were baptized under
the formula of the Roman Catholic Church by the chaplain of a French
corvette on a passing visit to the islands. They scarcely knew the
meaning of the ceremony, and it is safe to say that, at the time of
the destruction of their temples and the repudiation of their gods,
the Hawaiian people knew little or nothing of any other religion. The
abolition of the tabu, which had made them slaves to their chiefs
and priests, and held their fathers in bondage for centuries, was
hailed with so great a joy by the native masses that they did not
hesitate when called upon to consign the priesthood and their gods
to the grave of the tabu.
On the 30th of March, 1820--some months after this strange religious
revolution--the first party of Christian missionaries arrived
at the islands from Massachusetts. They were well received. They
found a people without a religion, and their work was easy. Other
missionary parties followed from time to time, and found the field
alike profitable to the cause in which they labored and to themselves
individually. They acquired substantial possessions in their new home,
controlled the government for the fifty or more years following, and
their children are to-day among the most prosperous residents of the
group. This is not said with a view to undervalue the services of the
early missionaries to Hawaii, but to show that all missionary fields
have not been financially unfruitful to zealous and provident workers.
And now let it be remarked with emphasis that the value of missionary
labors in the Hawaiian group should not be measured by the small
number of natives who to-day may be called Christians, but rather
by the counsel and assistance of these thrifty religious teachers
in securing and maintaining the independence of the islands, and by
degrees establishing a mild and beneficent constitutional government,
under which taxation is as light and life and property are as secure
as in any other part of the civilized world. They were politicians as
well as religious instructors, and practical examples of the value of
Christian discipline when prudently applied to the acquisition of the
needful and inviting things of life, and the establishment of a civil
system capable of protecting the possessor in his acquired rights.
In 1824 Liholiho and his queen died while on a visit to England,
and their remains were sent back to the islands in an English man-of
war. Kauikeaouli, a youth of ten years, and brother of the deceased
king, was accepted as the rightful heir to the throne under the title
of Kamehameha III., and Kaahumanu, one of the wives of Kamehameha I.,
acted as regent and prime minister.
In 1827, and ten years later, Roman Catholic missionaries arrived,
and were sent away by order of the government; but in 1839 the
priests of that denomination were finally landed under the guns of
a French frigate and allowed to remain. Meantime churches, schools
and printing-presses had been established, the Hawaiian had become
a written language, and the laws and decrees of the government were
promulgated in printed form.
In 1840 the first written constitution was given to the people,
guaranteeing to them a representative government. In February,
1843, Lord Paulet, of the English navy, took formal possession
of the islands, but in the July following their sovereignty was
restored through the action of Admiral Thomas. In November of the
same year France and England mutually agreed to refrain from seizure
or occupation of the islands, or any portion of them, and the United
States, while declining to become a party to the agreement, promptly
acknowledged the independence of the group.
Kamehameha III. died in 1854 and was succeeded by Kamehameha IV. The
latter reigned until 1863, when he died and was succeeded by Prince
Lot, with the title of Kamehameha V. In 1864 Lot abrogated the
constitution of 1840 and granted a new one. He reigned until 1872, and
died without naming a successor, and the Legislative Assembly elected
Lunalilo to the throne. He was of the Kamehameha family, and with his
death, in 1873, the Kamehameha dynasty came to an end. He, too, failed
to designate a successor, and as but two of the accepted descendants of
the first Kamehameha remained--one a sister of Kamehameha V. and the
other a female cousin of that sovereign--David Kalakaua was elected
to the throne by the Legislative Assembly in 1874, receiving all but
five votes of that body, which were cast for the queen-dowager Emma,
widow of Kamehameha IV.
Provision having been made for the event by a previous Legislative
Assembly, King Kalakaua, with his queen, Kapiolani, was formally
crowned on the 12th of February, 1883, in the presence of the
representatives of many of the nations of the Old World and the
New. Since the coronation the last of the Kamehamehas has passed away,
including the queen-dowager Emma, and King Kalakaua remains the most
direct representative in the kingdom of the ancient sovereigns of
Hawaii. He draws his strain from Liloa through the great I family of
Hawaii, who joined their fortunes with the first Kamehameha in the
conquest of the group. His queen, Kapiolani, is a granddaughter of
the last independent sovereign of Kauai, and is thus allied in blood
with the early rulers of the group. She is childless, and the Princess
Liliuokalani, the elder of the two sisters of the king, has been named
as his successor. She is the wife of His Excellency John O. Dominis,
an American by birth and present governor of the islands of Oahu and
Maui. The only direct heir in the families of the king and his two
sisters is the Princess Kaiulani, daughter of the Princess Likelike,
[1] wife of Mr. Cleghorn, a merchant of Honolulu.
Following is a list of the sovereigns of Hawaii, with the dates
and durations of their several governments, from the eleventh to
the nineteenth century. It embraces only the rulers of the island of
Hawaii, who eventually became the masters of the group. Until the reign
of Kalaniopuu, which began in 1754, the dates are merely approximate:
Pilikaeae, from A.D. 1095 to 1120
Kukohau, ,, 1120 to 1145
Kaniuhi, ,, 1145 to 1170
Kanipahu, ,, 1170 to 1195
Kalapana (including the usurpation of
Kamaiole), ,, 1195 to 1220
Kahaimoelea, ,, 1220 to 1260
Kalaunuiohua, ,, 1260 to 1300
Kuaiwa, ,, 1300 to 1340
Kahoukapu, ,, 1340 to 1380
Kauholanuimahu, ,, 1380 to 1415
Kiha, ,, 1415 to 1455
Liloa, ,, 1455 to 1485
Hakau, ,, 1485 to 1490
Umi, ,, 1490 to 1525
Kealiiokaloa, ,, 1525 to 1535
Keawenui, ,, 1535 to 1565
Kaikilani and Lonoikamakahiki, ,, 1565 to 1595
Keakealanikane, ,, 1595 to 1625
Keakamahana, ,, 1625 to 1655
Keakealaniwahine, ,, 1655 to 1685
Keawe and sister, ,, 1685 to 1720
Alapanui, ,, 1720 to 1754
Kalaniopuu, ,, 1754 to 1782
Kamehameha I, ,, 1782 to 1819
Kamehameha II.--Liholiho, ,, 1819 to 1824
Kaahumanu regency, ,, 1824 to 1833
Kamehameha III.--Kauikeaouli, ,, 1833 to 1854
Kamehameha IV, ,, 1854 to 1863
Kamehameha V.--Lot, ,, 1863 to 1872
Lunalilo, ,, 1872 to 1873
Kalakaua, ,, 1874 to ----
Having thus briefly sketched the outlines of the prominent political
events of the islands, the ancient religion of the Hawaiians will next
be referred to; and as the tabu was no less a religious than a secular
prerogative, it may properly be considered in connection with the
priesthood. A knowledge of the power, scope and sanctity of the tabu
is essential to a proper understanding of the relations existing in
the past between the people and their political and religious rulers,
and this great governing force will now claim our attention.
THE TABU.
Strictly speaking, the ancient tabu, or kapu, was a prerogative
adhering exclusively to political and ecclesiastical rank. It was a
command either to do or not to do, and the meaning of it was, "Obey
or die." It was common to the Polynesian tribes, and was a protection
to the lives, property and dignity of the priesthood and nobility.
The religious tabus were well understood by the people, as were
also the personal or perpetual tabus of the ruling families; but the
incidental tabus were oppressive, irksome and dangerous to the masses,
as they were liable to be thoughtlessly violated, and death was the
usual penalty.
Everything pertaining to the priesthood and temples was sacred,
or tabu, and pigs designed for sacrifice, and running at large
with the temple mark upon them, could not be molested. It was a
violation of perpetual tabu to cross the shadow of the king, to
stand in his presence without permission, or to approach him except
upon the knees. This did not apply to the higher grades of chiefs,
who themselves possessed tabu rights.
Favorite paths, springs, streams and bathing-places were at intervals
tabued to the exclusive use of the kings and temples, and squid,
turtle, and two or three species of birds could be eaten only by the
priests and tabu nobility.
Yellow was the tabu color of royalty, and red of the priesthood, and
mantles of the feathers of the oo and mamo could be worn only by kings
and princes. Feather capes of mingled red and yellow distinguished
the lesser nobility.
Women were tabued from eating plantains, bananas, and cocoanuts; also
the flesh of swine and certain fish, among them the kumu, moano, ulua,
honu, ea, hahalua and naia; and men and women were allowed under no
circumstances to partake of food together. Hence, when Liholiho, in
1819, openly violated this fundamental tabu by eating with his queen,
he defied the gods of his fathers and struck at the very foundation
of the religious faith of his people.
The general tabus declared by the supreme chief or king were proclaimed
by heralds, while the puloulou--a staff surmounted by a crown of white
or black kapa--placed at the entrance of temples, royal residences
and the mansions of tabu chiefs, or beside springs, groves, paths, or
bathing-places, was a standing notification against trespass. General
tabus were declared either to propitiate the gods or in celebration
of important events. They were either common or strict, and frequently
embraced an entire district and continued from one to ten days.
During the continuance of a common tabu the masses were merely required
to abstain from their usual occupations and attend the services at the
heiaus, or temples; but during a strict tabu every fire and every light
was extinguished, no canoe was shoved from the shore, no bathing was
permitted, the pigs and fowls were muzzled or placed under calabashes
that they might utter no noise, the people conversed in whispers,
and the priests and their assistants were alone allowed to be seen
without their places of abode. It was a season of deathly silence,
and was thought to be especially grateful to the gods.
Some of the royal tabus, centuries back in the past, were frivolous
and despotic, such as regulating the wearing of beards and compelling
all sails to be lowered on passing certain coast points; but, however
capricious or oppressive, the tabu was seldom violated, and its
maintenance was deemed a necessary protection to the governing classes.
ANCIENT HAWAIIAN RELIGION.
The ancient religion of the Hawaiians, of which the tabu formed
an essential feature, was a theocracy of curious structure. It
was a system of idolatrous forms and sacrifices engrafted without
consistency upon the Jewish story of the creation, the fall of man,
the revolt of Lucifer, the Deluge, and the repopulation of the earth.
The legends of the Hawaiians were preserved with marvellous
integrity. Their historians were the priests, who at intervals met in
council and recited and compared their genealogical meles, in order
that nothing might be either changed or lost. How did the Hawaiian
priesthood become possessed of the story of the Hebrew genesis? It was
old to them when the Resolution and Discovery dropped their anchors
in Kealakeakua Bay; old to them when one or more chance parties of
Spanish sailors in the sixteenth century may have looked in upon
them for a moment while on their way to the Spice Islands; and it was
probably old to them when the Hawaiians found their present home in
the sixth century, and when the Polynesians left the coast of Asia
four hundred years earlier.
One theory is that the story was acquired through Israelitish contact
with the ancestors of the Polynesians while the latter were drifting
eastward from the land of their nativity. But the more reasonable
assumption seems to be that the Hawaiian theogony, so strangely
perpetuated, is an independent and perhaps original version of a
series of creation legends common in the remote past to the Cushite,
Semite and Aryan tribes, and was handed down quite as accurately as
the Jewish version before it became fixed in written characters. In
fact, in some respects the Hawaiian seems to be more complete than
the Jewish version.
From the beginning, according to Hawaiian story, a trinity of gods
existed, who were the sole and all-pervading intelligences of chaos,
or night--a condition represented by the Hawaiian word Po. These
gods were:
Kane, the originator;
Ku, the architect and builder; and
Lono, the executor and director of the elements.
By the united will of Hikapoloa, or the trinity, light was brought
into chaos. They next created the heavens, three in number, as their
dwelling-places, and then the earth, sun, moon and stars. From their
spittle they next created a host of angels to minister to their wants.
Finally, man was created. His body was formed of red earth mingled
with the spittle of Kane, and his head of whitish clay brought by
Lono from the four quarters of the earth. The meaning of Adam is red,
and it will be remarked that the Hawaiian Adam was made of earth
of that color. He was made in the image of Kane, who breathed into
his nostrils, and he became alive. Afterwards, from one of his ribs,
taken from his side while he slept, a woman was created. The man was
called Kumu-honua, and the woman Ke-ola-ku-honua.
The newly-created pair were placed in a beautiful paradise called
Paliuli. Three rivers of "the waters of life" ran through it,
on the banks of which grew every inviting fruit, including the
"tabued bread-fruit tree" and "sacred apple-tree," with which are
connected the fall and expulsion of the man and woman from their
earthly paradise. The three rivers had their source in a beautiful
lake, fed by "the living waters of Kane." The waters were filled with
fish which fire could not destroy, and on being sprinkled with them
the dead were restored to life. Legends relate instances in which
these waters were procured, through the favor of the gods, for the
restoration to life of distinguished mortals.
As a specimen of the chants perpetuating these traditions and
embellishing the plainer prose recitals, the following extract relating
to the creation is given:
"Kane of the great Night,
Ku and Lono of the great Night,
Hika-po-loa the king.
The tabued Night that is set apart,
The poisonous Night,
The barren, desolate Night,
The continual darkness of midnight,
The Night, the reviler.
O Kane, O Ku-ka-pao,
And great Lono dwelling in the water,
Brought forth are Heaven and Earth,
Quickened, increased, moving,
Raised up into Continents.
Kane, Lord of Night, Lord the Father,
Ku-ka-pao, in the hot heavens,
Great Lono with the flashing eyes,
Lightning-like has the Lord
Established in truth, O Kane, master-worker;
The Lord creator of mankind:
Start, work, bring forth the chief Kumu-honua,
And Ola-ku-honua, the woman;
Dwelling together are they two.
Dwelling in marriage (is she) with the husband, the brother."
Among the angels created was Kanaloa, the Hawaiian Lucifer, who incited
a rebellion in heaven, with the results, strangely enough, related in
immortal song by Milton. When man was created, Kanaloa demanded his
adoration. This was refused by Kane, as angels and man were alike
the creations of Deity, whereupon Kanaloa ambitiously resolved to
create a man of his own who would worship him. Kane allowed him to
proceed with his seditious work. He made a man in the exact image
of Kumu-honua, but could not give it life. He breathed into its
nostrils, but it would not rise; he called to it, but it would not
speak. This exasperated him, and he determined to destroy the man
made by the gods. He therefore crept into Paliuli in the form of a
moo, or lizard, and, through some deception not definitely stated by
tradition, Kumu-honua and his mate committed some offence for which
they were driven from paradise by the "large, white bird of Kane."
Kumu-honua had three sons, the second of whom was slain by the
first. The name of the Hawaiian Cain is Laka. Ka Pili was the youngest
son, and thirteen generations are named between him and the Deluge,
whereas the Hebrew version records but ten on the corresponding line
of Seth.
The Hawaiian Noah is called Nuu. At the command of the gods he
constructed an ark, and entered it with his wife and three sons,
and a male and female of every breathing thing. The waters came
and covered the earth. When they subsided the gods entered the ark,
which was resting on a mountain overlooking a beautiful valley, and
commanded Nuu to go forth with all of life that the ark contained. In
gratitude for his deliverance Nuu offered a sacrifice to the moon,
mistaking it for Kane. Descending on a rainbow, that deity reproved
his thoughtlessness, but left the bow as a perpetual token of his
forgiveness.
Continuing the genealogical record, ten generations are given between
Nuu and Ku Pule, who "removed to a southern country," taking with
him as a wife his slave-woman Ahu. So was it with Abraham. Ku Pule
established the practice of circumcision, and was the grandfather
of Kini-lau-a-mano, whose twelve children became the founders of
twelve tribes, from one of which--the Menehune--the Hawaiians are
made to descend.
A story similar to that of Joseph is also given, and mention is
made of the subsequent return of the Menehune people to the land
set apart for their occupation by Kane. Two brothers led them over
deserts and through waters, and after many tribulations they reached
their destination.
This would seem to imply that the Menehune people were one of the
tribes of Israel; yet it is more probable that they had their origin
in some one of the other twelveships into which the early Asiatic
tribes were in many instances divided, and that the stories of Joseph
and the Exodus became a part of their folk-lore through contact with
other races.
The genealogical line from the Hawaiian Adam to the grandson of
Ku Pule--that is, until the time of Jacob--has been brought down
through three distinct traditional channels. The agreement of the
several versions is remarkable, but the one brought to the islands
by the high-priest Paao in the eleventh century, and retained by his
ecclesiastical successors, is regarded as the most authentic. It was
an heirloom of the priesthood, and was never communicated beyond the
walls of the temples.
With the settlement of the Menehune people in the land set apart for
them by Kane, the Hawaiian legends cease to remind us of the later
history of the Hebrews. There the similarity of historic incident
abruptly ends, and, with an uncertain stride of twelve or thirteen
generations, the chiefly line is brought down to Wakea and his wife
Papa, mythical rulers of superhuman attributes, who must have existed
before the Polynesians left the Asiatic coast, although in some legends
they are connected not only with the first settlement of the Hawaiian
archipelago, but with the creation of its islands.
A few of the many legends relating to the creation and first
settlement of the islands will be noted. One of them in substance
is that Hawaii-loa, a distinguished chief, and fourth in generation
from Kini-lau-a-mano, sailed westward, and, guided by the Pleiades,
discovered the Hawaiian group. He gave to the largest island his own
name, and to the others the names of his children.
Another tradition refers to Papa, the wife of Wakea, as a tabued
descendant of Hawaii-loa, and superior in caste to her husband. Mutual
jealousies embittered their lives and led to strange events. Wakea
found favor with the beautiful Hina, and the island of Molokai was born
of their embrace. In retaliation Papa smiled upon the warrior Lua,
and the fruit of their meeting was the fair island of Oahu. Hence
the old names of Molokai-Hina and Oahu-a-Lua.
Quite as fanciful a legend relates that an immense bird laid an egg
on the waters of the ocean. It was hatched by the warm winds of the
tropics, and the Hawaiian group came into being. Shortly after a man
and woman, with a pair each of dogs, hogs and fowls, came in a canoe
from Kahiki, landed on the eastern coast of Hawaii, and became the
progenitors of the Hawaiian people.
Fifty-six generations are mentioned from Wakea to the present ruling
family. The legends of the twenty-nine generations covering the period
between Wakea and Maweke--which brings the record down to the eleventh
century, when the second migratory influx from the southern islands
occurred--abound in wars, rebellions and popular movements, in which
giants, demi-gods, and even the gods themselves took part; and it was
doubtless during that period that the idolatrous forms and practices
of the Hawaiian religion, as it existed a century ago, were engrafted
upon an older and simpler creed confined to the worship of the godhead.
When the high-priest Paao arrived with Pili he introduced some new
gods while recognizing the old, strengthened and enlarged the scope
of the tabu, and established an hereditary priesthood independent of,
and second only in authority to, the supreme political head. Different
grades of priests also came into existence, such as seers, prophets,
astrologers and kahunas of various function, including the power of
healing and destroying. In fact, the priesthood embraced ten distinct
grades or colleges, each possessing and exercising powers peculiar
to it, and the mastery of all of them was one of the qualifications
of the high-priesthood. The tutelar deity of the entire body was Uli.
The form of the heiau, or temple, was changed by Paao and his
successors, and the masses mingled less freely in the ceremonies of
sacrifice and other forms of worship. The high-priesthood became more
mysterious and exclusive, and assumed prerogatives above the reach
of royalty. The old Hawaiian trinity--Kane, Ku and Lono--remained
the supreme gods of the pantheon, but Kanaloa, the spirit of evil,
was accorded beneficent attributes and exalted among them.
The regions of Po, or death, were presided over by Milu, a wicked
king who once ruled on earth, while the spirits of favorite chiefs
were conveyed by the divine messenger Kuahairo to the presence
of Kaono-hio-kala, whose beatific abode was somewhere in the
heavens. Another belief was that the ruler of Po was Manua, and that
Milu did not follow Akea, the first king of Hawaii, to that place,
but dwelt in a region far westward and beneath the sea. Although
significant of darkness, Po was not without light. Like Tartarus,
it could be visited by favored mortals, and the dead were sometimes
brought back from it to earth.
Pele, the dreadful goddess of the volcanoes, with her malignant
relatives, was added to the Hawaiian deities during the second influx
from the south, and temples were erected to her worship all over the
volcanic districts of Hawaii. At that period were also introduced
Laamaomao, the god of the winds, the poison goddesses Kalaipahoa and
Kapo, and many other deities.
But the worship of the Hawaiians was not confined to Kane, Ku, Lono
and Pele. Heiaus were erected to the war-gods of the kings, and great
sacrifices were frequently made to them, generally of human beings,
preceding, during, and following campaigns and battles. Humbler
temples were also maintained to fish, shark, lizard and other gods,
where sacrifices of fish and fruits were offered.
To the superstitious masses the land abounded in gnomes and fairies,
and the waters in nymphs and monsters, whose caprices are themes
of a bountiful store of folk-lore. With almost every stream, gorge
and headland is connected some supernatural story, and the bards
and musicians of old earned an easy support by keeping alive these
legends of the people. To some supernatural powers were given, and
malignant and beneficent spirits assumed human forms and flitted
among the palms in the guise of birds.
The people made their own household gods, and destroyed them when
they failed to contribute to their success. For example, at Ninole,
on the southeast coast of Hawaii, is a small beach called Kaloa,
the stones of which, it was thought, propagated by contact with each
other. From the large stones the people made gods to preside over their
games. When a stone was selected for a god it was taken to the heiau,
where certain ceremonies were performed over it. It was then dressed
and taken to witness some game or pastime. If the owner was successful
it was accepted as a god; if unsuccessful more than once or twice,
it was thrown away or wrought into an axe or adze. Sometimes a stone
of each sex was selected, wrapped in kapa, and laid away. In time
a small pebble was found with them. It increased in size, and was
finally taken to the heiau and formally made into a god. Such is the
story that is still told.
The people believed that the spirits of the departed continued to
hover around their earthly homes, and the shades of their ancestors
were appealed to in prayer. The owl and a bird called the alae were
regarded as gods, and scores of other deities, controlling the elements
or presiding over the several industries and amusements of the masses,
were recognized and placated with sacrifices when in unfavorable
moods. They had a god of the winds, of the husbandman, the warrior,
the canoe-maker, the hula dancer, the distiller, the orator, the
doctor and the sorcerer, and many gods of the sailor and the fisherman.
The services of the high-priest did not extend to these popular deities
on any of the islands of the group. The heiaus over which he presided
were dedicated either to the higher gods of the pantheon or to the
war-god of the king or supreme chief. He was next to the king in
authority, and always of distinguished blood. Surrounded by seers,
prophets and assistants, and claiming to hold direct intercourse
with the gods, he was consulted on all matters of state consequence,
and the auguries of the temple were always accepted with respect and
confidence. The high-priest sometimes had charge of the war-god of
the king, and in such cases went with it to the field of battle.
Hua, one of the ancient kings of Maui, defied the priesthood and slew
his high-priest. As a warning to ruling chiefs, the story of the
consequences of Hua's madness has come down with great conciseness
through the chroniclers of the priesthood. Hua's kingdom became a
desolation. Wherever he traveled all vegetation perished, and he
finally died of famine on Hawaii, and his bones were left to whiten
in the sun.
There were several classes of priests, or kahunas, beside those who
were connected with the temples. They were seers, doctors and dealers
in enchantment, and subsisted by preying upon the people through their
superstitions. All physical illness was attributed either to the anger
of the gods, witchcraft, or the prayers of a malignant kahuna. The
afflicted person usually sent for a kahuna, whose first business
was to discover the cause of the malady through incantation. This
ascertained, an effort was made to counteract the spells or prayers
which were wearing away the life of the patient, and sometimes with
so great success that the affliction was transferred to the party
whose malice had invoked it.
The belief that one person might be prayed to death by another was
universal with the ancient Hawaiians, and not a few of the race would
turn pale to-day if told that one of priestly strain was earnestly
praying for his death. In praying a person to death it was essential
that the kahuna should possess something closely connected with the
person of the victim--a lock of his hair, a tooth, a nail-paring,
or a small quantity of his spittle, for example; hence the office of
spittoon-bearer to the ancient kings was entrusted only to chiefs
of some rank, who might be expected to guard with care the royal
expectoration.
The belief was general that the spirits of the dead might be seen
and conversed with by the kilos, or sorcerers, and the spirits of the
living, it was claimed, were sometimes invoked from their slumbering
tabernacles by priests of exceptional sanctity. The spirit of the
dead was called unihipili, while the disembodied and visible spirit
of a living person was known as kahoaka.
Of all the deities Pele was held in greatest dread on the island of
Hawaii, where volcanic irruptions were frequent. With her five brothers
and eight sisters--all representing different elemental forces--she
dwelt in state in the fiery abysses of the volcanoes, moving from
one to another at her pleasure, and visiting with inundations of lava
such districts as neglected to cast into the craters proper offerings
of meats and fruits, or angered her in other respects. One of her
forms was that of a beautiful woman, in which she sometimes sought
human society, and numerous legends of her affairs of love have been
preserved. She was regarded as the special friend of Kamehameha I.,
and the suffocation of a portion of the army of Keoua, near the crater
of Kilauea, in 1791, was credited directly to her.
The last public recognition of the powers of Pele occurred as late as
1882 on the island of Hawaii. The village of Hilo was threatened. A
broad stream of lava from Mauna Loa, after a devastating journey of
twenty-five miles or more, reached a point in its downward course
within a mile or two of the bay of Hilo. Its movement was slow, like
that of all lava-streams some distance from their source, but its
steadily approaching line of fire rendered it almost certain that
the village, and perhaps the harbor, of Hilo would be destroyed
within a very few days. Trenches were digged, walls were raised,
and prayers were offered, but all to no purpose. Downward moved the
awful avalanche of fire.
Ruth, a surviving sister of the fourth and fifth Kamehamehas, was then
living in Honolulu. She was a proud, stern old chiefess, who thought
too little of the whites to attempt to acquire their language. The
danger threatening Hilo was reported to her. "I will save the
fish-ponds of Hilo," said the old chiefess. "Pele will not refuse
to listen to the prayer of a Kamehameha." She chartered a steamer,
left Honolulu for Hilo with a large number of attendants, and the
next day stood facing the still moving flow of lava. Ascending an
elevation immediately back of the village, she caused to be erected
there a rude altar, before which she made her supplications to Pele,
with offerings fed to the front of the advancing lava. This done,
she descended the hill with confidence and returned to Honolulu.
The stream of fire ceased to move, and to-day its glistening front
stands like a wall around Hilo. "A remarkable coincidence," explained
the whites. "The work of Pele," whispered the natives, although the
last of the temples of that goddess had been destroyed sixty years
before. Without discussing the cause--a natural one beyond a doubt--it
may be remarked that the result has been something of a renewal with
the natives of faith in the discarded gods of their fathers.
All of the minor gods of the Hawaiians seem to have been independent
and self-controlling. It is not claimed that they derived their
powers from, were directed by, or were responsible to the supreme
godhead. Hence the mythology of the Polynesians, strong though it be
in individual powers and personations of the forces and achievements
of nature, presents itself to us in a fragmentary form, like an
incongruous patchwork of two or more half-developed or half-forgotten
religious systems.
One of the most noted of the independent deities of the group was
Kalaipahoa, the poison-goddess of Molokai. Some centuries back
she came to the islands, with two or three of her sisters, from an
unknown land, and left her mark in many localities. She entered a
grove of trees on the island of Molokai, and left in them a poison
so intense that birds fell dead in flying over their branches. The
king of the island was advised by his high-priest to have a god hewn
from one of the poisoned trees. Hundreds of his subjects perished in
the undertaking, but the image was finally finished and presented to
the king, wrapped in many folds of kapa. It came down the generations
an object of fear, and was finally seized by the first Kamehameha,
and at his death divided among his principal chiefs.
Kuula was the principal god of the fishermen on all the islands of
the group. Rude temples were erected to him on the shores of favorite
fishing-grounds, and the first fish of every catch was his due. His
wife was Hina, and she was appealed to when her husband withheld his
favors. Laeapua and Kaneapua were gods worshipped by the fishermen
of Lanai, and other fish-gods were elsewhere recognized.
There were a number of shark and lizard gods. They were powerful
and malignant, and greatly feared by the classes who frequented the
sea. Heiaus were erected to them on promontories overlooking the ocean,
and the offerings to them of fish and fruits were always liberal. They
assumed the forms of gigantic sharks and lizards, and not unfrequently
lashed the waters into fury and destroyed canoes. Moaalii was the
great shark-god of Molokai and Oahu. Apukohai and Uhumakaikai were
the evil gods infesting the waters of Kauai. Lonoakihi was the eel-god
of all the islands, and Ukanipo was the shark-god of Hawaii.
Among the celebrated war-gods of the kings of the group was that of
Kamehameha I. It was called Kaili, or Ku-kaili-moku, and accompanied
the great chief in all of his important battles. It had been the
war-god of the Hawaiian kings for many generations, and was given
in charge of Kamehameha by his royal uncle, Kalauiopuu. It was a
small wooden image, roughly carved, and adorned with a head-dress
of yellow feathers. It is said that at times, in the heat of battle,
it uttered cries which were heard above the clash of arms. It is not
known what became of the image after the death of Kamehameha.
The public heiaus, or temples, of the Hawaiians were usually walled
enclosures of from one to five acres, and generally irregular in
form. The walls were frequently ten feet in thickness and twenty
feet in height, and the material used, was unhewn stone, without
mortar or cement. They narrowed slightly from the base upward, and
were sometimes capped with hewn slabs of coral or other rock not too
firm in texture to be worked with tools of stone.
Within this enclosure was an inner stone or wooden temple of small
dimensions, called the luakina, or house of sacrifice, and in front
of the entrance to it stood the lele, or altar, consisting of a raised
platform of stone. The inner temple was sacred to the priests. Within
it stood the anu, a small wicker enclosure, from which issued the
oracles of the kaulas, or prophets, and around the walls were ranged
charms and gods of especial sanctity. Beside the entrance to this
sacred apartment were images of the principal gods, and the outer
and inner walls were surmounted by lines of stone and wooden idols.
The enclosure contained other buildings for the accommodation of the
high-priest and his assistants; also a house for the governing chief
or king, some distance removed from the domiciles of the priest. It
was used temporarily by him when on a visit of consultation to the
temple, or as a place of refuge in a time of danger. On each side
of the entrance to the outer enclosure was a tabu staff, or elevated
cross, and near it was a small walled structure in which were slain
the victims for the altar.
When an augury was required by the king he frequently visited the
heiau in person and propounded his questions to the kaulas. If the
answers from the anu were vague and unsatisfactory, other methods of
divination were resorted to, such as the opening of pigs and fowls,
the shapes of the clouds, the flights of birds, etc. After prayers by
the priest the animals were killed, and auguries were gathered from the
manner in which they expired, the appearance of the intestines--which
were supposed to be the seat of thought--and other signs. Sometimes
the spleens of swine were removed, if auguries of war were required,
and held above the heads of the priests while prayers were offered.
Before engaging in war or any other important enterprise attended
by doubt or danger, human and other sacrifices were made, of which
there were fifteen different kinds, and the first prisoners taken
in battle were reserved for the altar. The priests named the number
of men required for sacrifice, and the king provided them, sometimes
from prisoners and malefactors, and sometimes from promiscuous drafts
along the highways. The victims were slain with clubs without the
temple walls, and their bodies, with other offerings, were laid upon
the altar to decay. When the king or other high chief made a special
offering of an enemy, the left eye of the victim, after the body
had been brought to the altar, was removed and handed to him by the
officiating priest. After making a semblance of eating it the chief
tossed it upon the altar.
During the construction of heiaus human sacrifices were usually offered
as the work progressed, and when completed they were dedicated with
great pomp and solemnity, and the altars were sometimes heaped with
human bodies. In dedicating ordinary temples the kaiopokeo prayer
was employed; but in consecrating heiaus of the first class the
kuawili invocation was recited, a prayer continuing from sunrise to
sunset. Oil and holy water were sprinkled upon the altars and sacred
vessels, and the services were under the direction of the high-priest,
and generally in the presence of the governing chief.
The ordinary services in the temples consisted of offerings of fruits
and meats, and of chants, prayers and responses, in which the people
sometimes joined. Women did not participate in the ceremonies of the
temples, but the exclusion found ample compensation in their exemption
from sacrifice when human bodies were required.
Temples of refuge, called puhonuas, were maintained on Hawaii,
and possibly on Lanai and Oahu in the remote past; but concerning
the latter there is some doubt. One of the puhonuas on Hawaii was
at Honaunau, near the sacred burial-place of Hale-o-Keawe, and the
other at Waipio, connected with the great heiau of Paa-kalani. Their
gates were always open, and priests guarded their entrances. Any
one who entered their enclosures for protection, whether chief or
slave, whether escaping criminal or warrior in retreat, was safe from
molestation, even though the king pursued. These places of refuge, with
the right of circumcision, which existed until after the death of the
first Kamehameha, suggest a Polynesian contact with the descendants
of Abraham far back in the past, if not a kinship with one of the
scattered tribes of Israel.
In further evidence of the wanderings of the early Polynesians
in western and southern Asia, and of their intercourse with the
continental races, it may be mentioned that a disposition toward
phallic worship, attested by tradition and existing symbols, followed
them far out into the Pacific; and that connected with their story of
the creation, so closely resembling the Hebrew version, is the Buddhist
claim of previous creations which either ran their course or were
destroyed by an offended godhead. Nor is Hawaiian tradition content
with the mere advancement of the theory of successive creations. It
makes specific reference to a creation next preceding that of their
Ku-mu-honua, or Adam, and gives the names of the man and woman created
and destroyed. They were Wela-ahi-lani and Owe.
It has been mentioned that the birds pueo and alae were sacred and
sometimes worshipped. Among the sacred fish were the aku and opelu. How
they became so is told in a legend relating to the high-priest Paao,
who migrated to the islands in the eleventh century and induced Pili
to follow him. Before visiting Hawaii, Paao lived near his brother,
probably on the island of Samoa. Both were priests and well skilled in
sorcery and divination. The name of the brother was Lonopele. Both were
affluent and greatly respected. Lonopele's lands were near the sea and
produced the choicest varieties of fruits. One season, when the fruits
were ripening, Lonopele discovered that some one was surreptitiously
gathering them in the night-time, and accused one of the sons of Paao
of stealing them. Indignant at the charge, and discerning no better
way of disproving it, Paao killed and opened his son, and showed his
brother that there was no fruit in the stomach of the boy.
Grieved at the death of his son, and holding his brother accountable
for it, Paao concluded to emigrate to some other land, and built strong
canoes for that purpose. About the time they were completed a son of
Lonopele chanced to be in the neighborhood, and Paao, remembering the
death of his own son, ordered the boy to be killed. He was missed,
and search was made for him, and his body was finally found near
Paao's canoes. Lonopele charged his brother with the murder. Paao
did not deny it, and Lonopele ordered him to leave the island. To
avoid further trouble Paao set sail at once with a party consisting
of thirty-eight persons. One tradition says Pili was of the party;
but he must have left Samoa some years later, as Paao sent or went
for him after reaching Hawaii.
As the canoes were moving from the shore several prophets, standing on
the cliffs above, expressed a desire to join the party. "Very well,"
was the answer of Paao; "if you are prophets, as you say, leap from
the cliffs and I will take you aboard." Several leaped into the sea
and were dashed against the rocks and drowned. Finally Makuakaumana,
a prophet of genuine inspiration, who was to have accompanied the
expedition, reached the shore and discovered the canoes of Paao
far out on the ocean. Raising his voice, he hailed Paao and asked
that a canoe might be sent back for him. "Not so," returned the
priest in a loud voice, which the favoring winds bore to the belated
prophet. "To return would be an omen of evil. There is room for you,
but if you would go with us you must fly to our canoes." And, flying,
the prophet reached the canoes in safety.
Observing the canoes of Paao as they were disappearing in the distance,
Lonopele sent a violent storm to destroy them; but the strong fish Aku
assisted in propelling the canoes against the storm, and the mighty
fish Opelu swam around them and broke the waves with his body. The
malignant brother then sent the great bird Kihahakaiwainapali to vomit
over the canoes and sink them; but they were hastily covered with mats,
and thus escaped destruction. After a long voyage Paao landed in Puna,
on the coast of Hawaii. Thenceforth the aku and opelu were held sacred
by Paao and his descendants.
Following is a list of the supreme and principal elemental, industrial
and tutelar deities of the Hawaiian group:
The Godhead.
Kane, the organizer.
Ku, the architect and builder.
Lono, the executor.
Kanaloa, the Lucifer, or fallen angel.
Rulers in the realms of Po, or death.
Akea, the first Hawaiian king, who, after life, founded the
island-kingdom of Kapapahaunaumoku, in the realms of Po,
or death.
Milu, the successor of Akea, or who, according to another
belief, accompanied Akea to Po, and became the perpetual
ruler of a kingdom on its western confines.
Manua, referred to in some legends as the supreme sovereign
of Po. With him abide the spirits of distinguished chiefs
and priests, who wander among beautiful streams and groves
of kou trees, and subsist upon lizards and butterflies.
Minor Celestial Deities.
Kaonohiokala (the eyeball of the sun), a celestial god, with
an abode somewhere in the heavens, and to whose presence the
departed spirits of chiefs were conducted.
Kuahairo, the messenger who conducted the souls of
distinguished chiefs to Kaonohiokala.
Olopue, a god of Maui, who bore the spirits of noted chiefs to
the celestial paradise. Kamehameha sought to secure possession
of a very sacred image of this god, inherited by Kahekili,
moi of Maui.
The Volcanic Deities.
Pele, the ruling goddess of the volcanoes, with her sisters,
Hiiaka-wawahi-lani, the heaven-rending cloud-holder;
Makoie-nawahi-waa, the fire-eyed canoe-breaker;
Hiiaka-noho-lani, the heaven-dwelling cloud-holder;
Hiiaka-kaalawa-maka, the quick-glancing cloud-holder;
Hiiaka-hoi-ke-poli-a-pele, the cloud-holder kissing the bosom
of Pele;
Hiiaka-ka-pu-enaena, the red-hot mountain lifting clouds;
Hiiaka-kaleiia, the wreath encircled cloud-holder;
Hiiaka-opio, the young cloud-holder; and their brothers,
Kamo-hoalii, or King Moho, the king of vapor or steam;
Kapohoikahiola, god of explosions;
Keuakepo, god of the night-rain, or rain of fire;
Kane-kahili, the husband of thunder, or thundering god;
Keoahi-kamakaua, the fire-thrusting child of war.
[The last two were hunchbacks.]
Akuapaao, the war-god of Paao, taken from the temple of Manini
by Umi.
Ku-kaili-moku, the war-god of Kamehameha I., bequeathed to him
by Kalaniopuu.
Deities of the Elements.
Laamaomao, god of the winds, the Hawaiian Æolus, whose home
was on Molokai.
Hinakuluiau, a goddess of the rain.
Hinakealii and
Hookuipaele, sisters of Hinakuluiau.
Mooaleo, a powerful gnome of Lanai, conquered by Kaululaau,
a prince of Maui.
Kuula, a god of the fishermen.
Hina, wife of Kuula.
Laeapua and
Kaneapua, gods of the fishermen of Lanai.
Hinahele and her daughter
Aiaiakuula, goddesses of the fishermen of Hawaii.
Ukanipo, the great shark-god of Hawaii.
Moaalii, the principal shark-god of Molokai and Oahu.
Lonoakiki, the great eel-god of all the group.
Apukohai and
Uhumakaikai, evil shark or fish-gods of Kauai.
Gods of the Arts and Industries.
Akua-ula, the god of inspiration.
Haulili, a god of speech, special to Kauai.
Koleamoku, the deified chief who first learned the use of
herbs and the art of healing from the gods. He was a patron
of the kahunas.
Olonopuha and
Makanuiailone, deified disciples of Koleamoku.
Kaanahua, the second son of the high-priest Luahoomoe, and
Kukaoo, gods of the husbandman.
Lakakane, god of the hula and similar sports.
Mokualii, god of the canoe-makers.
Hai, god of kapa making.
Ulaulakeahi, god of distillation.
Kalaipahoa, a goddess who entered and poisoned trees.
Kapo and
Pua, sisters of Kalaipahoa, with like functions.
Kama, a powerful tutelar god of all the islands.
Laauli, the god who made inviolable laws.
Kuahana, the god who killed men wantonly.
Leleioio, the god who inflicted bodily pain.
Lelehookaahaa, wife of Leleioio.
Lie, a goddess of the mountains, who braided leis.
Maikahulipu, the god who assisted in righting upset canoes.
Pohakaa, a god living in precipitous places, and who rolled down
stones, to the fright and injury of passers.
Keoloewa, a god worshipped in the heiaus of Maui.
Kiha, a goddess of Maui, held in great reverence.
Uli, the god of the sorcerers.
Pekuku, a powerful god of Hawaii.
Lonoikeaualii, a god worshipped in the heiaus of Oahu.
Kauakahi, a god of Maui and Molokai.
Hiaka, a mountain god of Kauai.
Kapo and
Kapua, and several others, messengers of the gods.
Ouli, the god appealed to by the kahunas in praying people
to death.
Maliu, any deified deceased chief.
Akua noho, gods possessing the spirits of departed mortals,
of which there were many.
Kiha-wahine and
Kalo, noted deities of the class of akua-noho.
Mahulu, a name common to three gods in the temples of Lono.
Manu, the names of two gods at the outer gates of heiaus dedicated
to Lono.
Puea, the god worshipped in the darkness.
Kaluanuunohonionio, one of the principal gods of the luakina,
or sacrificial house of the temple.
Kanenuiakea, a general name for a class of thirteen gods connected
with the larger heiaus.
ANCIENT HAWAIIAN GOVERNMENT.
Previous to the eleventh century the several habitable islands of the
Hawaiian group were governed by one or more independent chiefs, as
already stated. After the migratory influx of that period, however,
and the settlement on the islands of a number of warlike southern
chiefs and their followers, the independent chiefs began to unite
for mutual protection. This involved the necessity of a supreme head,
which was usually found in the chief conceded to be the most powerful;
and thus alii-nuis, mois and kings sprang into existence. So far
as tradition extends, however, certain lines, such as the Maweke,
Pili and Paumakua families, were always considered to be of supreme
blood. They came to the islands as chiefs of distinguished lineage,
and so remained.
Gradually the powers of the mois and ruling chiefs were enlarged, until
at length they claimed almost everything. Then the chiefs held their
possessions in fief to the moi, and forfeited them by rebellion. In
time the king became absolute master of the most of the soil over which
he ruled, and assumed tabu rights which rendered his person sacred
and his prerogatives more secure. All he acquired by conquest was his,
and by partitioning the lands among his titled friends he secured the
support necessary to his maintenance in power. Certain lands were
inalienable both in chiefly families and the priesthood; they were
made so by early sovereign decrees, which continued to be respected;
but with each succeeding king important land changes usually occurred.
Although the king maintained fish-ponds and cultivated lands of his
own, he was largely supported by his subject chiefs. They were expected
to contribute to him whatever was demanded either of food, raiment,
houses, canoes, weapons or labor, and in turn they took such portions
of the products of their tenants as their necessities required. The ili
was the smallest political division; next above it was the ahapuaa,
which paid a nominal or special tax of one hog monthly to the king;
next the okana, embracing several ahapuaas; and finally the moku,
or district, or island.
The laboring classes possessed no realty of their own, nor could they
anywhere escape the claim or jurisdiction of a chief or landlord. They
owed military and other personal service to their respective chiefs,
and the chiefs owed theirs to the king. If required, all were expected
to respond to a call to the field, fully armed and prepared for battle.
Caste rules of dress, ornamentation and social forms were rigidly
enforced. The entire people were divided into four general classes:
first, the alii, or chiefly families, of various grades and
prerogatives; second, the kahunas, embracing priests, prophets,
doctors, diviners and astrologers; third, the kanaka-wale, or free
private citizens; and, fourth, the kauwa-maoli, or slaves, either
captured in war or born of slave parents.
The laws were few and simple, and the most of them referred to the
rights and prerogatives of the king, priesthood and nobility. Property
disputes of the masses were settled by their chiefs, and other
grievances were in most instances left to private redress, which
frequently and very naturally resulted in prolonged and fatal family
feuds, in the end requiring chiefly and sometimes royal intervention.
This, in brief and very general terms, was the prevailing character
of the government and land tenure throughout the several islands of
the group until after the death of Kamehameha I. in 1819, and the
relinquishment by the crown of its ancient and sovereign rights in
the soil.
The leading chiefs and high-priesthood claimed a lineage distinct from
that of the masses, and traced their ancestry back to Kumuhonua, the
Polynesian Adam. The iku-pau, a sacred class of the supreme priesthood,
assumed to be the direct descendants from the godhead, while the
iku-nuu were a collateral branch of the sacred and royal strain, and
possessed only temporal powers. It was thus that one of the families of
the Hawaiian priesthood, in charge of the verbal genealogical records,
exalted itself in sanctity above the political rulers.
Proud of their lineage, to guard against imposture and keep their blood
uncorrupted, the chiefs allowed their claims to family distinction to
be passed upon by a college of heraldry, established by an early moi
of Maui. Reciting their genealogies before the college, composed of
aliis of accepted rank, and receiving the recognition of the council,
chiefs were then regarded as members of the grade of aha-alii, or
chiefs of admitted and irrevocable rank.
The chiefs inherited their titles and tabu privileges quite as
frequently through the rank of one parent as of the other. As Hawaiian
women of distinction usually had more than one husband, and the chiefs
were seldom content with a single wife, the difficulty of determining
the rights and ranks of their children was by no means easy; but
the averment of the mother was generally accepted as conclusive and
sufficient evidence in that regard.
For political purposes marriage alliances were common between the
royal and chiefly families of the several islands, and thus in time
the superior nobility of the entire group became connected by ties
of blood. The political or principal wife of a king or distinguished
chief was usually of a rank equal to that of her husband, and their
marriage was proclaimed by heralds and celebrated with befitting
ceremonies. Other wives were taken by simple agreement, and without
ceremony or public announcement. Very much in the same manner the
masses entered into their marriage unions. With the latter, however,
polygamy was not common. When husband and wife separated, as they
frequently did, each was at liberty to select another partner. The
political wife of a chief was called wahine-hoao; the others,
haia-wahine, or concubine.
In the royal families, to subserve purposes of state, father and
daughter, brother and sister, and uncle and niece frequently united as
man and wife. The children of such unions were esteemed of the highest
rank, and, strange to say, no mental or physical deterioration seemed
to result from these incestuous relations, for all through the past the
mois and nobles of the group were noted for their gigantic proportions.
There were five or more grades of chiefs connected with the royal
lines. First in order, and the most sacred, was the alii-niaupio
(the offspring of a prince with his own sister); next, the alii-pio
(the offspring of a prince with his own niece); next, the alii-naha
(the offspring of a prince or king with his own daughter); next,
the alii-wohi (the offspring of either of the foregoing with another
chiefly branch); and next, the lo-alii (chiefs of royal blood). Any
of these might be either male or female.
To these grades of chiefs distinct personal tabus or prerogatives
were attached, such as the tabu-moe, tabu-wela, tabu-hoano and
tabu-wohi. These tabus could be given or bequeathed to others by their
possessors, but could not be multiplied by transmission. The meles,
or ancestral chants of a family, passed in succession to the legal
representatives, and became exclusively theirs; but the government,
tabus and household gods of the king were subject to his disposal
as he willed, either at his death or before it. The child of a tabu
chief, born of a mother of lower rank, could not, according to custom,
assume the tabu privileges of his father, although in some instances
in the past they were made to inure to such offspring, notably in
the case of Umi, King of Hawaii.
Before an alii-niaupio, clothed with the supreme function of the
tabu-moe, all, with the exception of tabu chiefs, were compelled to
prostrate themselves. When he appeared or was approached his rank was
announced by an attendant, and all not exempt from the homage were
required to drop with their faces to the earth. The exemptions were the
alii-pio, the alii-naha, the alii-wohi and the lo-alii. They, and they
alone, were permitted to stand in the presence of a niaupio chief. An
alii-pio was also a sacred chief, so much so that he conversed with
others only in the night-time, and on chiefesses of that rank the
sun was not allowed to shine.
The kings lived in affluence in large mansions of wood or stone, in
the midst of walled grounds adorned with fruit and shade trees and
other attractive forms of vegetation. The grounds also contained
many other smaller buildings for the accommodation of guests,
retainers, attendants, servants and guards. They were attended by
their high-priests, civil and military advisers, and a retinue of
favorite chiefs, and spent their time, when not employed in war or
affairs of state, in indolent and dignified repose.
The personal attendants of an ancient Hawaiian king were all of noble
blood, and each had his specified duty. They were known as kahu-alii,
or guardians of the person of the king. They consisted of the
iwikuamoo, or rubber of the person; the ipukuha, or spittoon-bearer;
the paakahili, or kahili-bearer; the kiaipoo, or sleep-watcher;
and the aipuupuu, or steward. Other inferior chiefs, called puuku,
with messengers, spies, executioners, prophets, astrologers, poets,
historians, musicians and dancers, were among his retainers. Connected
with the palace was an apartment used as a heiau, or chapel, which
was sometimes in charge of the high-priest.
During festival seasons brilliant feasts, tournaments and hula and
musical entertainments were given in the royal grounds, and the
court was splendid in displays of flowers, feathers and other gaudy
trappings. The king not unfrequently took part in the manly games and
exercises of the chiefs, and sometimes complimented the hula dancers
and musicians by joining in their performances.
To render the kings and higher nobility still more exclusive, they
had a court language which was understood only by themselves, and
which was changed in part from time to time as its expressions found
interpretation beyond the royal circle. Some portions of this court
language have been preserved.
ARTS, HABITS AND CUSTOMS.
All implements of war or industry known to the early Hawaiians were
made either of wood, stone, or bone, as the islands are destitute
of metals; but with these rude helps they laid up hewn-stone walls,
felled trees, made canoes and barges, manufactured cloths and cordage,
fashioned weapons, constructed dwellings and temples, roads and
fish-ponds, and tilled the soil. They had axes, adzes and hammers of
stone, spades of wood, knives of flint and ivory, needles of thorn
and bone, and spears and daggers of hardened wood. They wove mats
for sails and other purposes, and from the inner bark of the paper
mulberry-tree beat out a fine, thin cloth called kapa, which they
ornamented with colors and figures.
Their food was the flesh of swine, dogs and fowls; fish, and almost
everything living in the sea; taro, sweet potatoes and yams, and
fruits, berries and edible sea-weed of various kinds. Poi, the favorite
food of all classes, was a slightly fermented paste made of cooked
and pounded taro, a large bulbous root, in taste resembling an Indian
turnip. They made a stupefying beverage by chewing the awa root,
and from the sweet root of the ti plant fermented an intoxicating
drink. The soft parts of the sugar-cane were eaten, but, with the
exception of the manufacture of a beer called uiuia, no other use
seems to have been made of it. Their food, wrapped in ti leaves,
was usually cooked in heated and covered pits in the earth. Their
household vessels were shells, gourd calabashes of various shapes
and sizes, and platters and other containers made of wood.
The dress of the ancient Hawaiian was scant, simple and cool. The
principal, and generally the only, garment of the male was the maro,
a narrow cloth fastened around the loins. To this was sometimes
added, among the masses, a kihei, or cloth thrown loosely over the
shoulders. The females wore a pau, or skirt of invariably five
thicknesses of kapa, fastened around the waist and extending to
the knees. When the weather was cool a short mantle was sometimes
added. Ordinarily the heads of both sexes were without coverings,
and in rare instances they wore kamaas, or sandals of ti or pandanus
leaves.
With the maro, which was common to the males of all ranks, the king
on state occasions wore the royal mamo, a mantle reaching to the
ankles, and made of the yellow feathers of a little sea-bird called
the mamo. When it is mentioned that but a single yellow feather
is found under each wing of the mamo, and that tens of thousands,
perhaps, entered into the fabrication of a single mantle, some idea
of the value of such a garment may be gathered. A few of these royal
cloaks are still in existence, one of which was worn by King Kalakaua
during the ceremonies of his late coronation. Pure yellow was the
royal color. The shorter capes or mantles of the chiefs were of yellow
feathers mixed with red. The color of the priests and gods was red.
The ornaments of the nobility consisted of head-dresses of feathers,
palaoas, or charms of bone suspended from the neck, and necklaces and
bracelets of shells, teeth and other materials. Many of them were
tattooed on the face, thighs and breast, but the practice was not
universal. Flowers were in general use as ornaments, and at feasts,
festivals and other gatherings garlands of fragrant leaves and blossoms
crowned the heads and encircled the necks of all. This is among the
beautiful customs still retained by the Hawaiians.
The dwellings of the masses were constructed of upright posts planted
in the ground, with cross-beams and rafters, and roofs and sides
of woven twigs and branches thatched with leaves. The houses of
the nobility were larger, stronger and more pretentious, and were
frequently surrounded by broad verandas. It was a custom to locate
dwellings so that the main entrance would face the east, the home
of Kane. The opposite entrance looked toward Kahiki, the land from
which Wakea came.
The homes of well-conditioned Hawaiians consisted of no less than six
separate dwellings or apartments: 1st, the heiau, or idol-house; 2d,
the mua, or eating-house of the males, which females were not allowed
to enter; 3d, the hale-noa, or house of the women, which men could not
enter; 4th, the hale-aina, or eating-house of the wife; 5th, the kua,
or wife's working-house; and 6th, the hale-pea, or retiring-house or
nursery of the wife. The poorer classes followed these regulations
so far as their means would admit, but screens usually took the place
of separate dwellings or definite apartments.
When war was declared or invasion threatened, messengers, called
lunapais, were despatched by the king to his subject chiefs,
who promptly responded in warriors, canoes, or whatever else was
demanded. A regular line-of-battle consisted of a centre and right and
left wings, and marked military genius was sometimes displayed in the
handling of armies. Sea-battles, where hundreds, sometimes thousands,
of war-canoes met in hostile shock, were common, and usually resulted
in great loss of life. Truces and terms of peace were ordinarily
respected, but few prisoners were spared except for sacrifice.
The weapons of the islanders were spears about twenty feet in length,
javelins, war-clubs, stone axes, rude halberds, knives, daggers and
slings. The slings were made either of cocoa fibre or human hair. The
stones thrown were sometimes a pound or more in weight, and were
delivered with great force and accuracy. The spears were sometimes
thrown, while the javelins were reserved for closer encounter. Shields
were unknown. Hostile missiles were either dodged, caught in the hands,
or dexterously warded. The chiefs frequently wore feather helmets in
battle, but the person was without protection.
The athletic sports and games of the people were numerous. The muscular
pastimes consisted in part of contests in running, jumping, boxing,
wrestling, swimming, diving, canoe-racing and surf-riding. Rolling
round stone disks and throwing darts along a prepared channel was
a favorite sport; but the most exciting was the holua contest, in
which two or more might engage. On long, light and narrow sledges the
contestants, lying prone, dashed down long and steep declivities, the
victory being with the one who first reached the bottom. The goddess
Pele enjoyed the game, and frequently engaged in it. But she was a
dangerous contestant. On being beaten by Kahavari, a chief of Puna,
she drove him from the district with a stream of lava. Sham battles
and spear and stone throwing were also popular exercises.
Among the in-door games were konane, kilu, puhenehene, punipiki,
and hiua. Konane resembled the English game of draughts. Puhenehene
consisted of the adroit hiding by one of the players of a small object
under one of several mats in the midst of the party of contestants,
and the designation of its place of concealment by the others. Kilu was
a game somewhat similar, accompanied by singing. Punipiki was something
like the game of "fox and geese," and hiua was played on a board with
four squares. These were the most ancient of Hawaiian household games.
The musical instruments of the islanders were few and simple. They
consisted of pahus, or drums, of various sizes; the ohe, a bamboo
flute; the hokio, a rude clarionet; a nasal flageolet, and a reed
instrument played by the aid of the voice. To these were added, on
special occasions, castanets and dry gourds containing pebbles, which
were used to mark the time of chants and other music. They had many
varieties of dances, or hulas, all of which were more or less graceful,
and a few of which were coarse and licentious. Bands of hula dancers,
male and female, were among the retainers of the mois and prominent
chiefs, and their services were required on every festive occasion.
The mourning customs of the people were peculiar. For days they
wailed and feasted together over a dead relative or friend, frequently
knocking out one or more teeth, shaving portions of their heads and
beards, and tearing their flesh and clothes. But their wildest displays
of grief were on the death of their kings and governing chiefs. During
a royal mourning season, which sometimes continued for weeks, the
people indulged in an unrestrained saturnalia of recklessness and
license. Every law was openly violated, every conceivable crime
committed. The excuse was--and the authorities were compelled to
accept it--that grief had temporarily unseated the popular reason,
and they were not responsible for their misdemeanors.
The masses buried their dead or deposited the bodies in caves, but
the bones of the kings were otherwise disposed of. There were royal
burial-places--one at Honaunau, on the island of Hawaii, and another,
called Iao, on Maui--and the tombs of many of the ancient mois and
ruling chiefs were in one or the other of those sacred spots; but they
probably contained but few royal bones. In the fear that the bones of
the mois and distinguished chiefs might fall into the hands of their
enemies and be used for fish-hooks, arrow-points for shooting mice, and
other debasing purposes, they were usually destroyed or hidden. Some
were weighted and thrown into the sea, and others, after the flesh had
been removed from them and burned, were secreted in mountain caves. The
hearts of the kings of the island of Hawaii were frequently thrown into
the crater of Kilauea as an offering to Pele. The bones of the first
Kamehameha were so well secreted in some cave in Kona that they have
not yet been found, and the bones of Kualii, a celebrated Oahuan king
of the seventeenth century, were reduced to powder, mingled with poi,
and at the funeral feast fed to a hundred unsuspecting chiefs.
The ancient Hawaiians divided the year into twelve months of thirty
days each. The days of the month were named, not numbered. As this gave
but three hundred and sixty days to their year, they added and gave to
their god Lono in feasting and festivity the number of days required
to complete the sidereal year, which was regulated by the rising of
the Pleiades. The new year began with the winter solstice. They also
reckoned by lunar months in the regulation of their monthly feasts. The
year was divided into two seasons--the rainy and the dry--and the
day into three general parts, morning, noon and night. The first,
middle and after parts of the night were also designated.
As elsewhere mentioned, they had names for the five principal planets,
which they called "the wandering stars," and for a number of heavenly
groups and constellations. It was this knowledge of the heavens that
enabled them to navigate the ocean in their frail canoes.
In counting, the Hawaiians reckoned by fours and their multiples. Their
highest expressed number was four hundred thousand. More than that
was indefinite.
After what has been written it would seem scarcely necessary to
mention that the Hawaiians were not cannibals. Their legends refer
to two or three instances of cannibalism on the islands, but the
man-eaters were natives of some other group and did not long survive.
THE HAWAII OF TO-DAY.
With this somewhat extended reference to the past of the Hawaiian
Islands and their people, it is deemed that a brief allusion to their
present political, social, industrial and commercial condition will
not be out of place. The legends presented leave the simple but warlike
islanders standing naked but not ashamed in the light of civilization
suddenly flashed upon them from across the seas. In the darkness
behind them are legends and spears; in the light before them are
history and law. Let us see what the years since have done for them.
The Hawaiian government of to-day is a mild constitutional monarchy,
the ruling family claiming descent from the most ancient and respected
of the chiefly blood of Hawaii. The departments of the government
are legislative, executive and judicial.
The Legislative Assembly, which meets every two years, consists of
representatives chosen by the people, nobles named by the sovereign,
and crown ministers. They act in a single body, choosing their
presiding officer by ballot, and their proceedings are held jointly
in the English and Hawaiian languages, and in both are their laws and
proceedings published. As the elective franchise is confined to native
and naturalized citizens, the most of the representatives chosen by
the people are natives, all of whom are more or less educated, and
many of whom are graceful and eloquent debaters. White representatives
of accepted sympathy with the natives are occasionally elected, and a
majority of the nobles and ministers are white men. The English common
law is the basis of their statutes, and their civil and criminal
codes are not unlike our own. The Legislature fixes tax, excise
and customs charges, and provides by appropriation for all public
expenditure. The representatives are paid small salaries, and the
Legislature is formally convened and prorogued by the king in person.
Although the present sovereign was elected by the Legislature, for the
reason heretofore mentioned, the naming of a successor is left to the
occupant of the throne. The king is provided at public expense with
a palace and royal guard, and appropriations of money amounting to
perhaps forty thousand dollars yearly. He has also some additional
income from what are known as crown lands. The two sisters of the
king and the daughter of one of them receive from the treasury an
aggregate of fifteen thousand five hundred dollars yearly. The king
entertains liberally, is generous with his friends and attendants,
and probably finds his income no more than sufficient to meet his wants
from year to year. His advisers are four Ministers of State and a Privy
Council. The Ministry is composed of a Minister of Foreign Affairs,
who ranks as premier, Minister of Finance, Minister of Interior,
and Attorney-General. The Privy Council is composed of thirty or
forty leading citizens appointed by the Crown. In certain matters
they have original and exclusive powers. They are convened in council
from time to time, but receive no compensation. The most of the Privy
Councillors are white men, and embrace almost every nationality. The
majority of the ministers of state are usually white men of ability,
and their salaries are six thousand dollars per annum each.
The judiciary is composed of a Supreme Court of three members, one
of whom is chief-justice and chancellor, Circuit Courts holden in
different districts, and minor magistrates' courts in localities where
they are required. The Supreme and Circuit judges are all white men,
and but few magistrates are natives. The salaries of the superior
judges are respectable, and the most of them are men of ability. The
laws, as a rule, are intelligently administered and promptly executed,
and life and property are amply protected.
Public schools are numerous throughout the islands, and are largely
attended by native children. A considerable proportion of the adult
natives are able to read and write their own language, and a number
of native newspapers and periodicals are sustained. The English press
of Honolulu--the only point of publication--is respectable in ability
and enterprise.
Leprosy was brought to the islands by the Chinese about forty years
ago, and has become a dangerous and loathsome scourge. Lepers are
seldom encountered, however, as they are removed, whenever discovered,
to the island of Molokai, where they are humanely cared for by the
government. It is a cureless but painless affliction, and is doubtless
contagious under certain conditions. Nine-tenths or more of the lepers
are either natives or Chinese, and the whole number amounts to perhaps
twelve hundred. It is not thought that the malady is increasing,
and it is hoped that a careful segregation of the afflicted will in
time eradicate the disease from the group.
The commerce of the islands is largely in the hands of foreigners, and
the sugar plantations are almost exclusively under their control. There
are but few native merchants, the large dealers being Americans,
Germans, English and French, while the smaller traders are generally
Portuguese and Chinese. There are native lawyers, clerks, mechanics,
magistrates and police-men; but the most of the race who are compelled
to labor for their support find employment as farm and plantation
laborers, stevedores, sailors, coachmen, boatmen, fishermen, gardeners,
fruit-pedlars, waiters, soldiers and house-servants, in all of which
capacities they are generally industrious, cheerful and honest.
The products of the islands for export are sugar, molasses, rice,
bananas, fungus, hides and wool, of an aggregate approximate
value of eight million dollars annually. The principal product,
however, is sugar, amounting to perhaps one hundred thousand tons
yearly. Nine-tenths of the exports of the group find a market in the
United States, and four-fifths or more of the imports in value are from
the great Republic. The receipts and expenditures of the government are
a little less than one million five hundred thousand dollars annually,
derived principally from customs duties and direct taxation.
The population of the islands is a little more than eighty thousand,
of which about forty-five thousand are natives. The Americans,
English, Germans, Norwegians and French number perhaps ten thousand,
and Chinese, Japanese and Portuguese from the Azores constitute the
most of the remainder.
The postal facilities of the islands are ample and
reliable. Inter-island steamers, of which there are many, convey the
mails throughout the group at regular intervals, and the San Franciscan
and Australian steamers afford a punctual and trustworthy service with
the rest of the world. The islands have a postal money-order system
reaching within and beyond their boundaries, and are connected with
the Universal Postal Union.
Over twenty thousand of the inhabitants of the group are centred
in Honolulu, the capital of the kingdom, and its beautiful and
dreamy suburb of Waikiki. The business portions of the city, with
their macadamized and lighted streets, and blocks of brick and stone
buildings, have a thrifty and permanent appearance, while the eastern
suburbs, approaching the hills with a gentle ascent, abound in charming
residences embowered in palms. Small mountain streams run through the
city and afford an abundant supply of sweet water, which is further
augmented by a number of flowing artesian wells. With a temperature
ranging from seventy to ninety degrees, Honolulu, with its substantial
churches and public buildings, its air of affluence and dreamy quiet,
is a delightful place of residence to those who enjoy the heat and
languor of the tropics.
In the midst of these evidences of prosperity and advancement it is but
too apparent that the natives are steadily decreasing in numbers and
gradually losing their hold upon the fair land of their fathers. Within
a century they have dwindled from four hundred thousand healthy and
happy children of nature, without care and without want, to a little
more than a tenth of that number of landless, hopeless victims to
the greed and vices of civilization. They are slowly sinking under
the restraints and burdens of their surroundings, and will in time
succumb to social and political conditions foreign to their natures and
poisonous to their blood. Year by year their footprints will grow more
dim along the sands of their reef-sheltered shores, and fainter and
fainter will come their simple songs from the shadows of the palms,
until finally their voices will be heard no more for ever. And then,
if not before--and no human effort can shape it otherwise--the Hawaiian
Islands, with the echoes of their songs and the sweets of their green
fields, will pass into the political, as they are now firmly within
the commercial, system of the great American Republic.
February, 1887.
HINA, THE HELEN OF HAWAII.
CHARACTERS.
Hakalanileo, a chief of Hawaii.
Hina, wife of Hakalanileo.
Uli, a sorceress, mother of Hina.
Niheu and
Kana, sons of Hina.
Kamauaua, King of Molokai.
Keoloewa and
Kaupeepee, sons of Kamauaua.
Nuakea, wife of Keoloewa.
Moi, brother of Nuakea.
HINA, THE HELEN OF HAWAII.
A STORY OF HAWAIIAN CHIVALRY IN THE TWELFTH CENTURY.
I.
The story of the Iliad is a dramatic record of the love and hate,
wrong and revenge, courage and custom, passion and superstition, of
mythical Greece, and embraces in a single brilliant recital events
which the historic bards of other lands, lacking the genius of Homer,
have sent down the centuries in fragments. Human nature has been
substantially the same in all ages, differing only in the ardor of
its passions and appetites, as affected by the zone of its habitat
and its peculiar physical surroundings. Hence almost every nation,
barbarous and civilized, has had its Helen and its Troy, its Paris
and its Agamemnon, its Hector and its demi-gods; and Hawaii is not
an exception. The wrath of no dusky Achilles is made the thesis of
the story of the Hawaiian abduction, but in other respects the Greek
and Polynesian legends closely resemble each other in their general
outlines.
The story of Hina, the Hawaiian Helen, and Kaupeepee, the Paris of
the legend, takes us back to the twelfth century, near the close of
the second and final era of migration from Tahiti, Samoa, and perhaps
other islands of Polynesia--a period which added very considerably
to the population of the group, and gave to it many new chiefs, a
number of new customs, and a few new gods. That the tale may be better
understood by the reader who may not be conversant with the legendary
history of the Hawaiian Islands, it will be necessary to refer briefly
to the political and social condition of the group at that time.
Notwithstanding the many sharply drawn and wonderfully-preserved
historic legends of the Hawaiians, the early settlement of the little
archipelago is shrouded in mystery. The best testimony, however,
warrants the assumption that the islands were first discovered and
occupied by a people who had drifted from southern Asia to the islands
of the Pacific in the first or second century of the Christian era,
and, by migratory stages from the Fijis to Samoa and thence to Tahiti,
had reached the Hawaiian group in about A.D. 550. The first discovery
was doubtless the result of accident; but those who made it were able
to find their way back to the place from which they started--either
Tahiti or Samoa--and in due time return with augmented numbers,
bearing with them to their new home pigs, fowls, dogs, and the seeds
of such fruits and vegetables as they had found to be wanting there.
The little colony grew and prospered, and for nearly five hundred years
had no communication with, or knowledge of, the world beyond. At the
end of that time their geographical traditions had grown so faint
that they spoke only of Kahiki, a place very far away, from which
their ancestors came. First landing on the large island of Hawaii,
they had spread over the eight habitable divisions of the group. The
people were ruled by district chiefs, in fief to a supreme head on
some of the islands, and on others independent, and the lines dividing
the masses from the nobility were less strictly drawn than during the
centuries succeeding. Wars were frequent between neighboring chiefs,
and popular increase was slow; but the tabus of the chiefs and priests
were not oppressive, and the people claimed and exercised a degree
of personal independence unknown to them after the eleventh century.
In about A.D. 1025, or perhaps a little earlier, the people of the
group were suddenly aroused from their long dream of six centuries
by the arrival of a large party of adventurers from Tahiti. Their
chief was Nanamaoa. Their language resembled that of the Hawaiians,
and their customs and religions were not greatly at variance. They
were therefore received with kindness, and in a few years their
influence began to be felt throughout the group. They landed at Kohala,
Hawaii, and Nanamaoa soon succeeded in establishing himself there as
an influential chief. His sons secured possessions on Maui and Oahu,
and on the latter island one of them--Nanakaoko--instituted the sacred
place called Kukaniloko, in the district of Ewa, where it was the
desire of future chiefs that their sons should be born. Even Kamehameha
I., as late as 1797, sought to remove his queen thither before the
birth of Liholiho, but the illness of the royal mother prevented. This
became the sacred birth-place of princes, as Iao, in Wailuku valley,
on the island of Maui, became their tabu spot of interment.
It was at Kukaniloko that Kapawa, the son of Nanakaoko, was
born. His principal seat of power was probably on Hawaii, although
he retained possessions on Maui and Oahu. It was during his life
that the celebrated chief and priest Paao made his appearance in the
group. He came from one of the southern islands with a small party,
bringing with him new gods and new modes of worship, and to him the
subsequent high-priests of Hawaii traced their sacerdotal line, even
down to Hevaheva, who in 1819 was the first to apply the torch to
the temples in which his ancestors had so long worshipped. Paao was a
statesman and warrior as well as a priest, but he preferred spiritual
to temporal authority; and when Kapawa died and was buried at Iao,
leaving his possessions without a competent ruler and his subjects in
a state bordering upon anarchy, Paao did not assume the chieftaincy,
as he manifestly might have done, but despatched messengers--if,
indeed, he did not go himself--to the land of his birth, to invite
to Hawaii a chief capable of restoring order.
Such a leader was found in Pilikaekae, of Samoa, who migrated to
Hawaii with a goodly number of retainers, and was promptly established
in the vacant sovereignty, while Paao continued in the position of
high-priest. Pili extended his authority over the six districts of
Hawaii; but beyond Kohala and the northern part of the island the
recognition of his sovereignty was merely nominal, and internal wars
and revolts were frequent.
The next arrivals of note from the southern islands were the two
Paumakua families, one of which settled in Oahu and Kauai and the other
in Hawaii and Maui. Whether, as averred by conflicting traditions,
they arrived contemporaneously or two or three generations apart, is
a question in nowise pertinent to our story. The legend is connected
with the Hawaii branch alone, and the order of their coming need not,
therefore, be here discussed.
The Paumakua family, which became so influential in Hawaii and
Maui, arrived during the early part of the reign of Pili, in about
A.D. 1090. A large party accompanied the family, and they brought with
them their gods, priests, astrologers and prophets. They first landed
and secured possessions in Maui; but the sons and other relatives of
Paumakua were brave and ambitious, and soon by conquest and marriage
secured an almost sovereign footing both in Maui and Hawaii.
One of the nephews of Paumakua, Hakalanileo, who was the son of
Kuheailani, as an entering wedge to further acquisitions became in some
manner possessed of a strip of land along the coast in the district
of Hilo, Hawaii. It was a large estate, and the owner availed himself
of every opportunity to extend its boundaries and increase the number
of his dependents. His wife was the beautiful Hina of Hawaiian song
and daughter of the seeress Uli, who had migrated from Tahiti with
some one of the several expeditions of that period--possibly with
the Paumakua family, although tradition does not so state.
At that time Kamauaua, a powerful chief of the ancient native line
of Nanaula, held sway over the island of Molokai. He proudly traced
back his ancestry to the first migration in the sixth century, and
regarded with aversion and well-founded alarm the new migratory tide
which for years past had been casting upon the shores of the islands
a flood of alien adventurers, whose warlike and aggressive chiefs
were steadily possessing themselves of the fairest portions of the
group. He had sought to form a league of native chiefs against these
dangerous encroachments; but the wily invaders, with new gods to awe
the masses and new customs and new traditions to charm the native
nobility, had, through intermarriage and strategy rather than force,
become the virtual rulers of Hawaii, Maui, Oahu, and Kauai, and he had
abandoned all hope of seeing them supplanted. Molokai alone remained
exclusively under native control, and its resolute old chief had from
their infancy instilled into his sons a hatred of the southern spoilers
and a resolution to resist their aggressions to the bitter end.
The eldest of the sons of Kamauaua was Kaupeepee. He was a warlike
youth, well skilled in arms and mighty in strength and courage, and
so profound was his detestation of the alien chiefs that he resolved
to devote his life to such warfare as he might be able to make upon
them and their subjects. With this view he relinquished his right
of succession to his first brother, Keoloewa, and, gathering around
him a band of warriors partaking of his desperation and courage,
established a stronghold on the promontory of Haupu, on the north
side of the island, between Pelekunu and Waikolo. At that point,
and for some miles on each side of it, the mountains hug the ocean so
closely as to leave nothing between them and the surf-beaten shores
but a succession of steep, narrow and rugged promontories jutting out
into the sea, and separated from each other by gorge-like and gloomy
little valleys gashing the hills and, like dragons, for ever swallowing
and ejecting the waves that venture too near their rocky jaws.
One of the most rugged of these promontories was Haupu. It was
a natural fortress, precipitously fronting the sea with a height
of five hundred feet or more, and flanked on the right and left by
almost perpendicular declivities rising from narrow gulches choked with
vegetation and sweetening the sea with rivulets of fresh water dashing
down from the mountains seamed by their sources. It was connected
with the range of mountains back of it by a narrow and rising ridge,
which at a point something less than a mile inland, where opposite
branches of the two flanking gulches approached each other closely, was
contracted to a neck of not more than fifty paces in width. The summit
of the point abutting the ocean was a comparatively level plateau,
or rather series of three connecting terraces, embracing in all an
area of nearly a hundred acres. Surrounded on three sides by almost
perpendicular walls, and accessible on the fourth only by a narrow and
easily-defended ridge extending to the mountains, little engineering
skill was required to render the place well-nigh impregnable.
Setting himself earnestly to the task, Kaupeepee soon transformed the
promontory of Haupu into one of the strongest fortresses in all the
group. He surrounded the plateau with massive stone walls overlooking
the declivities, and across the narrow neck leading to the mountains
raised a rocky barrier ten feet in thickness and twenty feet in height,
around which aggression from without was rendered impracticable by
the excavation of precipices leading to, and in vertical line with,
the ends of the wall. Instead of a gate, a subterranean passage-way
led under the wall, the inside entrance being covered in times of
danger with a huge flat stone resting on rollers.
Although the passage was rough and in unfavorable weather attended with
danger, canoes could enter the mouths of both gulches and be hauled
up beyond the reach of the waves, and beyond the reach of enemies as
well; for above the entrances, and completely commanding them, frowned
the broad battlements of Haupu, from which might be hurled hundreds
of tons of rocks and other destructive missiles. With ingenuity and
great labor narrow foot-paths were cut leading from the middle terrace
to both gulches, some distance above their openings, and affording
a means of entering and leaving the fortress by water. These paths
connected with the terrace through narrow passage-ways under the walls,
and a single arm could defend them against a host.
Within the walls buildings were erected capable of accommodating in an
emergency two or three thousand warriors, and on the lower terrace,
occupied by Kaupeepee and his household, including his confidential
friends and captains, a small heiau overlooked the sea, with a priest
and two or three assistants in charge. Mountain-paths led from the
fortress to Kalaupapa and other productive parts of the island; and
as fish could be taken in abundance, and Kaupeepee and many of his
followers controlled taro and other lands in the valleys beyond, it
was seldom that the stronghold was short of food, even when foraging
expeditions to the neighboring islands failed.
The services of the courageous alone were accepted by Kaupeepee,
and it was a wild and daring warfare that the little band waged for
years against the alien chiefs and their subjects. They could put
afloat a hundred war-canoes, and their operations, although usually
confined to Oahu, Maui, and Hawaii, sometimes in a spirit of bravado
extended to Kauai. Leaving their retreat, they hovered near the coast
selected for pillage until after dark, and then landed and mercilessly
used the torch and spear. This part of their work was quickly done,
when they filled their canoes with the choicest plunder they could
find or of which they were most in need, and before daylight made sail
for Haupu. Women were sometimes the booty coveted by the buccaneers,
and during their raids many a screaming beauty was seized and borne to
their stronghold on Molokai, where in most instances she was so kindly
treated that she soon lost all desire to be liberated. Occasionally
they were followed, if the winds were unfavorable to their retreat,
by hastily-equipped fleets of canoes. If they allowed themselves to
be overtaken it was for the amusement of driving back their pursuers;
but as a rule they escaped without pursuit or punishment, leaving their
victims in ignorance alike of the source and motive of the assault.
A prominent chief of Oahu, whose territory had been ravaged by
Kaupeepee, traced the retiring fleet of the plunderers to the coast of
Molokai, when it suddenly disappeared. He landed and paid his respects
to the venerable Kamauaua, then at Kalaupapa, and craved his assistance
in discovering and punishing the spoilers, who must have found shelter
somewhere on the island. The old chief smiled grimly as he replied:
"It is not necessary to search for your enemies. You will find them
at Haupu, near the ocean. They are probably waiting for you. They
do not disturb me or my people. If they have wronged you, land and
punish them. You have my permission."
The Oahu chief offered his thanks and departed. He made a partial
reconnoissance of Haupu, ascertained that it was defended by but a
few hundred warriors, and shortly after returned with a large fleet of
canoes to capture and retain possession of the place. Arriving off the
entrance to the gulches, and discovering a number of war-canoes drawn
up on their steep banks, he opened the campaign by ordering their
seizure. Sixty canoes filled with warriors rode the surf into the
gulches, where they were met by avalanches of rocks from the walls of
the fortress, which dashed the most of them in pieces. The chief was
startled and horrified, and, believing the gods were raining rocks
down upon his fleet, he rescued such of his warriors as were able
to reach him from the wrecked canoes, and hastily departed for Oahu,
not again to return.
It is said that Kamauaua watched this assault upon Haupu from the hills
back of the fortress, and, in token of his pleasure at the result,
sent to Kaupeepee a feather cloak, and gave him the privilege of
taking fish for his warriors from one of the largest of the royal
ponds on the island. He also quietly presented him with a barge,
than which there were few larger in the group. It would accommodate
more than a hundred warriors and their equipments, and was intended
for long and rough voyages.
These barges were constructed of planks strongly corded together over
a frame, and calked and pitched. They were sometimes ten or more feet
in width, and were partially or wholly decked over, with a depth of
hold of six or eight feet. It was in vessels of this class, and in
large double canoes of equal or greater burden, that distant voyages
were made to and from the Hawaiian Islands during the migratory
periods of the past, while the single and double canoes of smaller
dimensions, hollowed from the trunks of single trees, were used in
warfare, fishing, and in general inter-island communication. After the
final suspension of intercourse, in the twelfth century, between the
Hawaiian and Society Islands--the possible result of the disappearance
of a guiding line of small islands and atolls dotting the ocean at
intervals between the two groups--the barges referred to gradually
went out of use with the abandonment of voyages to distant lands, and
were almost unknown to the Hawaiians as early as one or two centuries
ago. Their spread of sail was very considerable, but oars were also
used, and the mariner shaped his course by the sun and stars, and was
guided to land by the flights of birds, drifting wood, and currents
of which he knew the direction.
Some of the double canoes with which the barges were supplanted were
scarcely less capacious and seaworthy than the barges themselves. They
were hollowed from the trunks of gigantic pines that had drifted to
the islands from the northern coast of America, and when one was found
years sometimes elapsed before wind and current provided a proper
mate. One of the single-trunk double canoes of Kamehameha I. was one
hundred and eight feet in length, and both single and double canoes
of from fifty to eighty feet in length were quite common during his
reign, when the native forests abounded in growths much larger than
can now be found. But the native trees never furnished bodies for
the larger sizes of canoes. They were the gifts of the waves, and
were not unfrequently credited to the favor of the gods.
Kaupeepee was delighted with the present of the barge. It gave him one
of the largest vessels in all the eight Hawaiian seas, and rendered
him especially formidable in sea-encounters. He painted the sails
red and the hull to the water-line, and from the masthead flung a
saucy pennon to the breeze, surmounted by a kahili, which might have
been mistaken for Von Tromp's broom had it been seen a few centuries
later in northern seas. He provided a large crew of oarsmen, and made
a more secure landing for it in one of the openings near the fortress.
With this substantial addition to his fleet Kaupeepee enlarged the
scope of his depredations, and his red sails were known and feared
on the neighboring coasts of Oahu and Maui. Haupu was filled with the
spoil of his expeditions, and the return of a successful raiding party
was usually celebrated with a season of feasting, singing, dancing,
and other boisterous merriment. Nor were the gods forgotten. Frequent
festivals were given to Kane, Ku, and Lono; and Moaalii, the shark-god
of Molokai--the god of the fisherman and mariner--was always the
earliest to be remembered. A huge image of this deity overlooked
the ocean from the north wall of the heiau of Haupu, and leis of
fresh flowers adorned its shoulders whenever a dangerous expedition
departed or returned. On one occasion this god had guided Kaupeepee
to Haupu during a dark and rainy night, and on another had capsized
a number of Oahuan war-canoes that had adroitly separated him from
his fleet in Pailolo channel.
At that period the islands were generally ruled by virtually
independent district chiefs. They recognized a supreme head, or
alii-nui, but were absolute lords of their several territories, and
wars between them were frequent; but they were wars of plunder rather
than of conquest, and sometimes continued in a desultory way until
both parties were impoverished, when their chiefs and priests met
and arranged terms of peace. But Kaupeepee was inspired by a motive
higher than that of mere plunder. He hated the southern chiefs and
their successors, and his assaults were confined exclusively to the
territories over which they ruled. His sole aim was to inflict injury
upon them, and the spoils of his expeditions were distributed among
his followers. Brave, generous and sagacious, he was almost worshipped
by his people, and treason, with them, was a thing unthought of.
It was indeed a wild and reckless life that Kaupeepee and his daring
associates led; but it lacked neither excitement abroad nor amusement
at home. On the upper terrace a kahua channel had been cut, along which
they rolled the maika and threw the blunted dart. They played konane,
puhenehene, and punipeki, and at surf-riding possessed experts of both
sexes who might have travelled far without finding their equals. The
people of the island were friendly with the dashing buccaneers, and
the fairest damsels became their wives, some of them living with their
husbands at Haupu, and others with their relatives in the valleys.
II.
We will now return to Hina--or Hooho, as she was sometimes
called--the beautiful wife of Hakalanileo, nephew of Paumakua, of
Hawaii. Hakalanileo had acquired his possessions in Hilo partly
through the influence of his own family, and partly through his
marriage with the sister of a consequential district chief. Later
in life he had seen and become enamored of Hina, the daughter of
Uli, and prevailed upon her to become his wife. The marriage was not
acceptable to Uli. The position and family connections of Hakalanileo
were sufficiently inviting, but Uli, who dealt in sorcery and magic,
saw disaster in the proposed union and advised her daughter against
it. After much persuasion, however, her consent was obtained; but
she gave it with this injunction:
"Since you will have it so, take her, Hakalanileo; but guard her
well, for I can see that some day the winds will snatch her from you,
and you will behold her not again for many years."
"Be it even as you say," replied Hakalanileo, "I will take the
hazard. We do not well to reject a treasure because, perchance,
it may be stolen. Hina shall be my wife."
And thus it was that Hina became the wife of the nephew of
Paumakua--Hina, the most beautiful maiden in all Hawaii; Hina, whose
eyes were like stars, and whose hair fell in waves below the fringes
of her pau; Hina, whose name has come down to us through the centuries
garlanded with song. And for years she lived happily with Hakalanileo,
who loved her above all others--lived with him until she became the
mother of two sons, Kana and Niheu; and then the winds snatched her
away from her husband, just as Uli had predicted six years before. But
the winds that bore her hence filled the sails of the great barge
of Kaupeepee.
The chief of Haupu had heard of her great beauty, and resolved to
see with his own eyes what the bards had exalted in song. Travelling
overland from Puna in disguise, he reached her home in Hilo, and saw
that the poets had done her no more than justice. She was beautiful
indeed, and the wife of one to whose blood he had vowed undying
enmity. Returning to Puna, where his barge lay in waiting for him,
he hovered around the coast of Hilo for some days, watching for an
opportunity to seize the woman whose charms had enraptured him.
At last it came. After sunset, when the moon was shining, Hina repaired
to the beach with her women to bathe. A signal was given--it is
thought by the first wife of Hakalanileo--and not long after a light
but heavily-manned canoe dashed through the surf and shot in among
the bathers. The women screamed and started for the shore. Suddenly a
man leaped from the canoe into the water. There was a brief struggle,
a stifled scream, a sharp word of command, and a moment later Kaupeepee
was again in the canoe with the nude and frantic Hina in his arms.
The boatmen knew their business--knew the necessity of quick work--and
without a word the canoe was turned and driven through the surf like
an arrow. The barge, with a man at every oar and the sails ready
to hoist, was lying a short distance out at sea. A speck of light
guided the boatmen, and the barge was soon reached. All were hastily
transferred to it. The sails were spread, the men bent to their oars,
the canoe was taken in tow; and, while the alarm-drum was sounding and
fires were appearing on shore, Hina, wrapped in folds of soft kapa,
sat sobbing in one of the apartments of the barge, and was being
swiftly borne by wind and oar toward the fortress of Haupu.
The return to Haupu occupied a little more than two days. During that
time Hina had mourned continually and partaken of no food. Kaupeepee
had treated her with respect and kindness; but she was bewildered
with the shock of her abduction, and begged to be either killed or
returned to her children.
The party landed a little before daylight. The sea was rough, but
the moon shone brightly, and the passage into the mouth of one of the
gulches was made without accident. In the arms of Kaupeepee Hina was
borne up the rock-hewn path to the fortress, and placed in apartments
on the lower terrace provided with every comfort and luxury known to
the nobility of the islands at that period. They had been especially
prepared for her reception, and women were in attendance to wait upon
her and see that she wanted for nothing, except her liberty. The large
private room of the three communicating apartments--the one designed
for her personal occupation--was a model of barbaric taste and comfort,
and to its adornment many of the exposed districts of Oahu and Maui had
unwillingly contributed. Its walls were tapestried with finely-woven
and brilliantly-colored mattings, dropping from festoons of shells
and underlapping a carpet of hardier material covering the level
ground-floor. The beams of the ceiling were also studded with shells
and gaudily stained. On one side of the room was a slightly-raised
platform, thickly strewn with dry sea-grass and covered with many
folds of kapa. This was the kapa-moe, or sleeping-couch. Opposite
was a kapa-covered lounge extending along the entire side of the
room. In the middle of the apartment were spread several thicknesses
of mats, which served alike for eating and lounging purposes. Light
was admitted through two small openings immediately under the eaves,
and from the door when its heavy curtains were looped aside. On a row
of shelves in a corner of the room were carved calabashes and other
curious drinking-vessels, as well as numerous ornaments of shells,
ivory and feathers; and in huge calabashes under them were stores
of female attire of every description then in use. In fact, nothing
seemed to be wanting, and, in spite of her grief, Hina could scarcely
repress a feeling of delight as she was shown into the apartment and
the kukui torches displayed its luxurious appointments.
Declining food, Hina dismissed her attendants, and, throwing herself on
the kapa-moe, was soon folded in the soft mantle of sleep and carried
back in dreams to the home from which she had been ravished. The room
was dark, and she slept for many hours. Awaking, she could not for
a moment recollect where she was; but gradually the events of the
preceding three days came to her, and she appreciated that she was
a prisoner in the hands of Kaupeepee, of whose name and exploits
she was not ignorant, and that repining would secure her neither
liberation nor kind treatment. Therefore, with a sagacity to be
expected of the daughter of Uli, and not without a certain feeling
of pride as she reflected that her beauty had inspired Kaupeepee to
abduct her, she admitted her attendants, attired herself becomingly,
partook heartily of a breakfast of fish, poi, potatoes and fruits,
and then sent word to Kaupeepee that she would be pleased to see him.
Kaupeepee expected a storm of tears and reproaches as he entered the
room, but was agreeably disappointed. Hina rose, bowed, and waited
for him to speak.
"What can I do for you?" inquired Kaupeepee in a kindly tone, while
a just perceptible smile of triumph swept across his handsome face.
"Liberate me," replied Hina promptly.
"You are free to go anywhere within the walls of Haupu," returned
Kaupeepee, moving his arms around as if they embraced the whole world.
"Return me to my children," said Hina; and at thought of them her
eyes flashed with earnestness.
"Impossible!" was the firm reply.
"Then kill me!" exclaimed Hina.
"Did you ever see me before I had the pleasure of embracing you in
the water on the coast of Hilo?" inquired the chief, evasively.
"No," replied Hina, curtly.
"Well, I saw you before that time," continued Kaupeepee--"saw you in
your house; saw you among the palms; saw you by the waters. I made a
journey overland from Puna to see you--to see the wife of my enemy,
the most beautiful woman in Hawaii."
Hina was but a woman, and of a race and time when the promptings of
the heart were not fettered by rigid rules of propriety. Kaupeepee
was the handsome and distinguished son of a king, and his words of
praise were not unpleasant to her. She therefore bent her eyes to
the floor and remained silent while he added:
"Hina would think little of the man who would risk his life to possess
himself of such a woman, and then kill or cast her off as not worth
the keeping. You are like no other woman; I am like no other man. Such
companionship has the approval of the gods, and you will leave Haupu
only when its walls shall have been battered down and Kaupeepee lies
dead among the ruins!"
To this terrible declaration Hina could offer no reply. The fierceness
of this prince of the old line of Nanaula, this enemy of her people,
this scourge of the southern chiefs, alike charmed and frightened her,
and with her hands to her face she sank upon the lounge of kapa beside
which she had been standing.
The chief regarded her for a moment, perhaps with a feeling of pity;
then, placing his hand upon her shoulder, he softly said:
"You will not be unhappy in Haupu."
"Will the bird sing that is covered with a calabash?" replied Hina,
raising her eyes. "I am your prisoner."
"Not more my prisoner than I am yours," rejoined the chief,
gallantly. "Therefore, as fellow-prisoners, let us make the best of
walls that shut out no sunshine, and of gates that are a bar only
against intrusion."
"How brave, and yet how gentle!" mused Hina, as Kaupeepee, feeling that
he had said enough, turned and left the room. "How strangely pleasant
are his words and voice! No one ever spoke so to me before. I could
have listened longer."
After that Hina harkened for the footsteps of Kaupeepee, and lived
to forget that she was a prisoner in the fortress of Haupu. His love
gently wooed her thoughts from the past and made sweet the bondage
which he shared with her.
III.
The sudden disappearance of Hina created a profound excitement among
the people of that part of the coast of Hilo from which she had been
abducted. The women who had been permitted to escape ran screaming to
the house of Hakalanileo with their tale of woe, and soon for miles
around the country was in arms. When questioned, all they could tell
was that a canoe filled with armed men suddenly dashed through the
surf, and their mistress was seized and borne out to sea. This was
all they knew.
Canoes were suddenly equipped and sent in pursuit, but they returned
before morning with the report that nothing had been seen of the
abductors. Messengers were despatched to the coast settlements of
Hamakua, Hilo and Puna, but they brought no intelligence of the
missing woman. Uli was consulted, but her divinations failed, for
the reason, as she informed the unhappy husband, that the powers that
had warned her against the marriage of her daughter and foreshadowed
the result could not be prevailed upon to impart any information that
would interfere with the fulfilment of the prophecy. Uli, therefore,
sat down in gloom to await the developments of time, and Hakalanileo
started on a systematic search through the group for his lost wife.
After visiting every district and almost every village on Hawaii,
he proceeded with a small party of attendants to Maui, and thence to
Molokai, Oahu, Kauai and Niihau, and back to Lanai and Kahoolawe;
but no trace of Hina could be discovered. He was well received by
the various chiefs, and assistance was freely offered and sometimes
accepted; but all search was in vain, and he returned disheartened
to Hawaii after an absence of more than two years.
But his first search was not his last. During the fifteen years that
followed he made frequent voyages to the different islands on the same
errand, and always with the same result. He offered sacrifices in the
temples, made pledges to the gods, and consulted every kaula of note of
whom he had knowledge; but his offerings and promises failed to secure
the assistance of the unseen powers, and the kilos and astrologers
could gather nothing of importance to him from their observations.
Meantime Kana and Niheu, the sons of Hina, grew to manhood and prepared
to continue the search for their mother, which Hakalanileo had at last
abandoned as hopeless. Again and again had their grandmother told them
the story of the abduction of Hina, and as often had they vowed to
devote their lives to a solution of the mystery of her fate. It was
vouchsafed to Uli to see that her daughter lived, but beyond that
her charms and incantations were fruitless. But when the beards of
her grandsons began to grow she felt that the time was approaching
when Hina's hiding-place would be discovered, and she inspired them
to become proficient in the use of arms and the arts of war. And to
their assistance she brought the instruction of supernatural powers.
Niheu became endowed not only with great personal strength and courage,
but with unerring instincts of strategy and all the accomplishments of
a successful military leader. To Kana were given powers of a different
nature. He could contract his body to the compass of an insect, and
expand or extend it almost indefinitely; but he was permitted to do
neither except in cases of imminent personal peril, as the faculty
was rarely imparted to mortals, and in this instance was accorded
by Kanaloa without the knowledge of the powers to which that deity
was subject.
Finally, after a season of long and patient inquiry, it was developed
to Uli that her daughter was secreted in the fortress of Haupu and
could be recovered only by force, as she had long been the wife
of Kaupeepee and would not be surrendered peacefully. Hakalanileo
regarded the development with distrust; for while at Kalaupapa, on
the island of Molokai, less than three years before, word was brought
to him from Kaupeepee, offering to open the fortress of Haupu to his
inspection. Hence, when his sons set about raising a large force to
attack that stronghold, he gave them every assistance in his power,
but declined to accompany the expedition.
Before noting with greater detail the warlike preparations of Hina's
sons, let us refer briefly to the changes which the years leading
them to manhood had brought to others connected with the events of
this legend. Hina had been a not unhappy captive at Haupu for nearly
seventeen years, during which Kaupeepee had continued his desultory
assaults upon the usurping chiefs of the neighboring islands. His name
had become known throughout the entire group, and several combined
attacks upon Haupu had been repulsed--the last by land, led by a
distinguished Maui chief, with a slaughter so great that the adjoining
gulches were choked with the slain. The venerable Kamauaua had passed
away, leaving the government of Molokai to his son, Keoloewa, who had
married Nuakea, daughter of the powerful chief, Keaunui, of Oahu, and
sister of Lakona, of the strain of Maweke. Moi, another of Nuakea's
brothers, had joined Kaupeepee at Haupu, and became not only his
steadfast friend and adviser, but his kaula, or prophet, as well.
Paumakua had died at a very old age, and was buried at Iao, leaving
his titles, meles and possessions to his son, Haho; but the change
did not seem to affect the holdings of Hakalanileo in Hilo, although
it brought to his sons some support in their subsequent war with
Kaupeepee. Haho was a haughty but warlike chief, and refused to
recognize the titles of many of the native nobles; and, to permanently
degrade them, he founded the Aha-alii, or college of chiefs, which
embraced the blue-blooded of the entire group, and remained in vogue
as late as the beginning of the present century. To be recognized by
this college of heraldry, it was necessary for every chief to name his
descent from an ancestor of unquestioned nobility; and when his rank
was thus formally established, no circumstance of war or peace could
deprive him of it. There were gradations of rank and tabu within the
Aha-alii, and all received the respect to which their rank entitled
them, without regard to their worldly condition. No chief could claim
a higher grade than the source from which he sprang; nor could he
achieve it, although through marriage with a chiefess of higher rank
he might advance his children to the grade of the mother. The Aha-alii
had a language which was not understood by the common people, and
which was changed whenever it became known to the makaainana, and it
was their right on all occasions to wear the insignia of their rank,
the feather wreath (lei-hulu), the feather cape (aha-ula), and the
ivory clasp (palaoa); and their canoes might be painted red and bear
a pennon. The royal color was yellow.
Although Kaupeepee was of the undoubted blood of Nanaula, and would not
have been denied admission to the Aha-alii, he treated with contempt
the institution of nobility founded by Haho, declaring that the blood
of the founder himself was ennobled only through the thefts of his
low-born grandfather. This was doubtless correct; but Kaupeepee's
hatred of the southern invaders would not allow him to be just,
even to their ancestors.
Such was the condition of affairs when the sons of Hina began to
prepare for their expedition against Haupu. They sent emissaries
to Oahu and Maui, and were promised substantial co-operation by
the leading chiefs of those islands, the most of whom had suffered
from the raids of the scourge of Molokai. They collected a mighty
fleet of canoes and a force of six thousand warriors. As many more
were promised from Oahu and Maui, which, were Keoloewa's permission
obtained, would be landed at Molokai to operate in conjunction with
the army from Hawaii.
As an attack on Haupu from the sea side was not considered practicable,
even with the overwhelming force that was being organized against it,
messengers were despatched to Molokai to prevail upon Keoloewa to
permit a portion of the united armies to land on the south side of
the island and assault the fortress from the mountain. His sympathies
were with his brother, and he hesitated; but when he learned of
the formidable force organizing for the reduction of Haupu, he
appreciated that he was unable to successfully oppose the movement,
and, with the assurance that his subjects would be neither disturbed
nor despoiled of their property during the conflict, and that the
invading armies would be withdrawn from the island at the end of the
campaign against Haupu, he consented to the landing. Had he known
the real motive of the assault he would have advised his brother to
surrender his fair prisoner and save both from possible ruin; but,
conceiving that Kaupeepee's depredations had become unendurable, and
that the chiefs of the great islands had at length united to crush him,
for his own safety he felt compelled to leave him to his fate.
This resolution accorded with the advice of Kaupeepee. Many days
before his faithful kaula had told him of the approaching invasion,
of the combination of chiefs against him, and the doubtful result of
the struggle; and before the messengers reached his brother he had
gone to and advised him to offer no opposition to the landing of his
enemies on the island. "Opposition would be useless," argued Kaupeepee,
"for my enemies are coming in great force. I have slain them and
blasted their lands, and single-handed will meet the consequences. Do
not embroil yourself with me, but save to our blood the possessions
of our fathers."
"Perhaps you are right," said Keoloewa; "but why not abandon Haupu
and save yourself, if you are not able to hold it?"
"Never!" exclaimed Kaupeepee. "For more than twenty years its
walls have stood between me and my enemies, and I will not desert
them now. I have a thousand brave men who will triumph or die with
me. Should Haupu be taken, go and count the corpses around its walls,
and you will not blush to see how a son of Kamauaua died!"
"So let the will of the gods be done!" replied the brother. "But we
may not meet again."
"True," returned Kaupeepee, with a strange smile--"true, my good
brother, for my sepulchre at Haupu needs ornamenting before the
mourners come."
"In my name take anything required for your defence," said Keoloewa,
still holding the hand of his brother, as if reluctant to part with
him; "my heart, if not my arm, will be with you!"
"We shall be well prepared," were the words of Kaupeepee at parting;
and before he reached the top of the pali on his return to Haupu,
the messengers from Hawaii landed at Kalaupapa.
With this concession from Keoloewa the arrangements for the
campaign were speedily made. The main body of the united forces was
to concentrate at Kaunakakai, on the north side of the island, and
move under the supreme leadership of Niheu, while a large detachment,
embracing the best seamen of the several quotas, was to blockade the
sea-entrances to Haupu, destroy the canoes of the fortress to prevent
escape or succor, and co-operate generally with the land forces. This
dangerous service was entrusted to the command of Kana.
At the appointed time the Hawaiian army set sail for Molokai in a fleet
of over twelve hundred canoes, many of them double, and carrying a
large supply of provisions. The assistance of the gods had been invoked
with many sacrifices, and the omens had been favorable. In one of the
large double canoes was Uli. Her form was bent with age, and her hair,
white as foam, covered her shoulders like a mantle. In youth she was
noted for her stateliness and beauty; but age and care had destroyed
all traces of her early comeliness, and her wrinkled face, and black
eyes glistening through the rifts of her long, white hair, gave her
the appearance of one who dealt with things to be feared. She was
surrounded with charms and images, and before her, on a stone-bordered
hearth of earth, burned a continual fire, into which she at intervals
threw gums and oily mixtures, emitting clouds of incense. Her canoe
followed that of the sons of Hina, with their priest and war-god,
and red pennon at the masthead; and as the fleet swept out into the
ocean, with thousands of oars in the waves and thousands of spears
in the air, Uli rose to her feet and began a wild war-chant, which
was taken up by the following hosts and borne far over the waters.
The day following a number of expeditions left various openings on the
coasts of Oahu and Maui--none of them approaching the Hawaiian army in
strength, but together adding an aggregate of nine hundred canoes of
all sizes and about four thousand warriors to the invading force. All
of them reached the landing at Kaunakakai on the day appointed for
their arrival, and Niheu found himself in command of ten thousand
warriors and over two thousand canoes. No such number of spears was
ever before seen massed on Molokai; but the people had been assured
that they would not be injured either in person or property so long as
they remained peaceful, and the terms of the agreement with Keoloewa
were faithfully observed. Among the invaders the people found many
friends and relatives, for intercourse between the islands at that
time was free and frequent; and although their sympathies were with
Kaupeepee, they soon came to regard the projected capture of Haupu as a
great game of konane, played by agreement between two champions, during
which the spectators were to remain silent and make no suggestions.
The tents of the chiefs, around which were encamped their respective
followers, extended along the shore for more than two miles,
while the beach for a greater distance was fringed with canoes,
many of the larger painted red and bearing gaudy pennons of stout
kapa. As plundering had been forbidden, provisions of dried fish,
potatoes, cocoanuts, taro, and live pigs and fowls had been brought
in considerable quantities in extra canoes; but as the duration
of the campaign could only be surmised, rolls of kapa and matting,
shell wreaths, ivory, feather capes, calabashes, mechanical tools,
ornaments, and extra arms were also brought, to be fairly exchanged
from time to time for such supplies as might be wanted.
IV.
Everything being in readiness for an advance upon the stronghold of
Kaupeepee, a war-council of the assembled chiefs was called. Among
them were several who were well informed concerning the approaches
to Haupu, and the main features of the campaign were arranged without
discussion. Signals and other means of communication between the two
divisions having been agreed upon, the next morning a detachment of
two thousand men, occupying five hundred canoes, under the command
of Kana, moved around the island to blockade the entrances to Haupu,
and immediately after the main army, leaving a strong reserve to guard
the canoes and look after supplies, broke camp and took up its line
of march across the island to the mountains back of the fortress. The
trails were rough, but at sunrise the next morning the land division,
stretched along the summit of the hills two miles back of Haupu,
looked down and saw the fleet of Kana drawn like a broad, black line
around the ocean entrances to the doomed stronghold.
Meantime Kaupeepee had not been idle. Every movement of the enemy had
been watched; and when word came to him that the shores of Kaunakakai
were so crowded with warriors that the number could not be told,
he grimly answered: "Then will our spears be less likely to miss!"
The walls of the fortress had been strengthened and replenished with
missiles; large quantities of provisions had been secured, and sheds
of ample space were finally erected for the collection of rain-water,
should communication be interrupted with the streams in the gulches
below. Before the enemy had reached positions completely cutting off
retreat from the fortress, Kaupeepee had called his warriors together
and thus addressed them:
"Warriors and friends!--for all, indeed, are warriors and friends in
Haupu!--for years you have shared in the dangers of Kaupeepee and have
never disobeyed him. Listen now to his words, and heed them well. A
mighty army is about to surround Haupu by land and sea. It already
blackens the shores of Kaunakakai, and will soon be thundering at our
gates. The fight will be long and desperate, and may end in defeat
and death to the most or all of us. I cannot order, cannot even ask
you to face such peril for my sake. The gates are open. Let all leave
with my good-will whose lives are precious to them. Let your acts
answer at once, for the enemy is approaching and no time can be lost!"
For a moment not a warrior of the thousand present moved. All stood
staring at their chief and wondering that he should doubt. Then a
confused hum of voices, rising louder and louder, swelled into a
united shout of "Close the gates!" and Kaupeepee was answered. And
a braver answer was never given than that which came from the stout
hearts and unblanched lips of the thousand fearless defenders of
Haupu. The gates were closed, with not a single warrior missing,
and the fortress was soon environed with its enemies.
Halting his army on the summit of the mountains overlooking Haupu,
Niheu despatched a messenger to the fortress with a signal of peace,
to ascertain with certainty whether Hina was a prisoner there, and,
if so, to demand the surrender of the captive. The messenger returned
in safety, bearing this message from Kaupeepee: "Hina is within the
walls of Haupu. Come with arms in your hands and take her!"
Communication was established with the fleet in front of Haupu, and
Kana was advised to enter the gulches in force the next morning,
destroy the canoes of the fortress, and maintain a footing there,
if possible, while a strong division of the land forces would move
down and draw attention to the rear defences by taking a position
within attacking distance.
In pursuance of this plan, early next morning Niheu despatched a
formidable force down the mountain in the rear of Haupu, with orders
to menace but not to assault the defences. Arriving near the walls,
a little skirmishing ensued, when the detachment took a position
beyond the reach of the slingers, and began the construction of a
stone wall across the ridge.
Meantime Kana's fleet of canoes, which had been hovering nearer and
nearer the walls of Haupu since daylight, with a wild battle-cry
from the warriors crowding them suddenly dashed through the surf,
and partially succeeded in effecting a landing in one of the
gulches flanking the fortress. So rapid had been the movement, and
so thoroughly had the attention of the besieged been engrossed with
the diversion from the mountains, that a division of the assaulting
party managed to reach the canoes of the fortress, and another to
secure a lodgment among the rocks on the opposite side of the gulch,
before meeting with serious opposition. The score or two of warriors
left to guard the canoes of the fortress were quickly overpowered
and slaughtered, and then the work of destruction began. With loose
rocks and heavy stone hammers the canoes were being hastily broken
in pieces, including the great war-barge of Kaupeepee, when from the
walls above the destroyers was precipitated a bewildering and murderous
avalanche of rocks of all sizes and heavy sections of tree-trunks. As
the missiles rolled and bounded down the steep declivity, sweeping it
at almost the same moment for two hundred yards or more in length,
the ground trembled as with an earthquake, and the gorge was filled
with a dense cloud of dust.
The thunder of the avalanche ceased, and in the awful silence that
succeeded Kaupeepee, at the head of two hundred warriors, dashed down
the narrow path leading from the middle terrace to finish the dreadful
work with spear, knife and battle-axe. The sight was appalling,
even to the chief of Haupu. The gulch was choked with the bodies of
the dying and the dead. Panic-stricken, those posted on the opposite
hillside had abandoned their only place of safety, and perished in
large numbers in attempting to reach their canoes. The few left alive
and able to retreat were wildly struggling to escape seaward from
the gulch in such canoes of their wrecked fleet as would still float,
or by plunging desperately into the surf.
With exultant shouts Kaupeepee and his warriors sprang over their
dead and dying enemies and swept down upon the unarmed and escaping
remnant of the invaders. Although a considerable reserve of canoes
came to their rescue from without, protected from assault from above
by the presence of Kaupeepee and his party, the most of the fugitives
would have been cut off but for the extraordinary efforts of Kana, who
led the attacking party, but miraculously escaped unhurt. In the surf,
in the deep entrance to the gulch, everywhere he moved around with his
head and shoulders above the water. He assisted the canoes through the
breakers, rescued exhausted and drowning swimmers, and from the bottom
of the ocean reached down and gathered huge rocks, which he hurled
at intervals at Kaupeepee's warriors to keep them in check. These
wonderful exploits awed the attacking party, and greater still was
their astonishment when they saw the strange being finally walk
through the deep waters, erect and with his head and breast exposed,
and step into a canoe quite half a mile from the shore. Turning to his
warriors, with these words Kaupeepee answered their looks of inquiry:
"He is Kana. I have heard of him. I am glad he escaped."
Kana returned with his shattered fleet and still worsely shattered
army to Kaunakakai. As the most of his canoes had been destroyed,
Kaupeepee was unable to follow the retreating enemy to sea, but,
hearing the shouts of conflict above, at once mounted with his
warriors to the fortress, to assist in repelling an attack on the
rear wall which had been hastily begun to save, if possible, the sea
party from destruction. With Kaupeepee at the front the assault was
quickly repulsed, the enemy retiring in confusion behind the lines
of defence from which the advance had been made.
The wounded in the gulch were despatched, six of the least injured
being reserved for sacrifice, and the night following the fortress of
Haupu was ablaze with savage joy. As the first-fruits of the victories
of the day, the six wounded prisoners were slain with clubs and laid
upon the altar of the heiau as offerings to the gods, and chants of
defiance were sent through the night air to the discomfited enemy
beyond the walls.
These disasters did not dishearten Niheu. The canoes of the fortress
had been destroyed, and that was something of a compensation for the
loss of nearly two thousand of his best warriors and a considerable
part of his fleet. Plans for further assaults from the sea were
abandoned, and a regular siege, with a final entrance by the rear wall,
was suggested and in the end agreed to by the chiefs in council.
Lines of pickets were accordingly stationed along the summits of the
mountains flanking the fortress, in order to prevent the entrance into
it of reinforcements or supplies, and the main body of the attacking
force was moved down and placed in positions within slinging distance
of the rear wall. This was not done without loss, for the wall was
manned with expert slingers; but in less than a week the besiegers
had advanced their main line of wooden defences within a hundred paces
of the rear bulwark of the fortress and were daily gaining ground.
This movable line of assault and defence was a device as ingenious as
it was effective. Timbers twenty feet in length, or corresponding with
the height of the wall, were firmly corded together side by side until
they stretched across the narrow summit leading to the fortress. To
the top of each fourth or fifth timber was lashed a movable brace
thirty feet in length, and then the wooden wall was raised into the
air nearly erect, and securely held in that position by its line of
supporting braces. It was a formidable-looking structure. Against
it the missiles of the besieged fell harmless, and behind it the
besiegers worked in safety.
Section by section and foot by foot this moving line of timber was
advanced, until the warriors on the wall could almost touch it with
their spears. Several desperate sorties, to destroy or prostrate
it, had been made, but nothing beyond the cutting of a few of the
lower fastenings had been achieved; and the defenders of Haupu,
with tightened grasp of their weapons, grimly awaited the final
assault, which they felt would not long be delayed. Day after day,
night after night, they watched; but the wooden wall did not move,
and they could only guess at what was going on behind it.
Finally a night of inky darkness came--a night "as dark as the farthest
confines of Po"--bringing with it a storm of wind and rain. In the
midst of the storm the wooden wall began to move, but so noiselessly
that the advance was not perceived by the fortress sentinels. Midnight
came and went; the storm continued, and nearer and nearer to the
wall of stone was crowded the wall of timber. Just as coming day
began to streak the east the bases of the two walls came together,
the backward inclination of both leaving them a few feet apart at
their tops. Hundreds of men then laid hold of the braces, and in a
moment the wooden wall was shoved over and stayed against the other.
The alarm was given within, and warriors from all parts of the
enclosure sprang toward the menaced wall. But the movement of their
enemies was not less prompt. Up the braces they swarmed in such numbers
that the few who had succeeded in reaching the top of the wall from
within were hurled from it, and after them poured a cataract of spears
against which the opposing force was powerless. The huge stone was
rolled back, the gate was opened, and soon the upper terrace was
cleared and five thousand warriors, led by Niheu in person, were
sweeping down to complete their work of slaughter.
But their victory was not to be cheaply purchased. They had slain two
or three hundred on the wall and around the gate, but thrice as many
more, under the desperate leadership of Kaupeepee, were stretched like
a wall across the middle terrace, with a resolution to contest every
pace of the ground with their lives. They might have escaped, perhaps,
down the paths leading from that terrace to the gulches; but they
preferred to die, as they had for years lived, in defence of Haupu.
Down the terrace swept the victorious horde in the gray dawn of
the morning. Niheu vainly tried to hold his warriors in check, for
he knew the main body of the fortress force was still before him,
and would have advanced with prudence; but the voices of the leaders
were drowned in the battle-shouts of the surging throng, which in a
few minutes struck Kaupeepee's wall of spears and battle-axes, and
rolled back like a storm-wave broken against the front of Haupu. But
the check was only momentary, for immediately behind the shattered
column was a forest of advancing spears, and with a wild tumult of
shouts and clashing weapons the entire force was precipitated upon
Kaupeepee's thin but resolute lines of defence.
The slaughter was frightful; but the unequal conflict could have but
one result. Kaupeepee and the fifty or less of his followers left
standing were crowded, fighting step by step, into the lower terrace,
and thence to the heiau, and finally to the temple as a last place
of defence. There the struggle was brief. The roof of the temple
was fired, and as Kaupeepee and the last of his devoted band sprang
from the blazing building to die at the throats of their enemies they
were struck down with their javelins in the air. A spear penetrated
the breast of Kaupeepee. As a last act he poised his ihe to hurl
at a helmeted chief who had just struggled to the front. The chief
was Niheu. By his dress or face, which bore a resemblance to the
features of Hina, Kaupeepee must have recognized him. He looked, but
his arm did not move. "Not for your sake, but for hers!" exclaimed the
dying warrior, dropping his weapon to the earth and falling lifeless
beside it.
Not one of the defenders of Haupu escaped, but more than one-half of
Niheu's army perished in the various assaults upon the fortress. Hina
was found uninjured, and, while there was great joy to her in the
embrace of her sons and aged mother, she wept over the death of
Kaupeepee, who with his love had made light her long imprisonment.
The body of Kaupeepee was given to Keoloewa for interment, as were
also the remains of Moi, who was among the last to fall. The walls
of Haupu were levelled, never to be raised again, and Hina returned
to her husband in Hilo, after a separation of nearly eighteen years,
thus bringing to a close one of the most romantic legends of early
Hawaiian chivalry.
THE ROYAL HUNCHBACK.
CHARACTERS.
Kanipahu, king of Hawaii.
Kalapana, son of Kanipahu.
Kamaiole, a usurper of the throne, chief of Kau.
Iola, sister of Kamaiole.
Makea, daughter of Iola.
Waikuku, a military chief, abductor of Iola.
Nanoa, a chief in the royal household.
THE ROYAL HUNCHBACK.
THE LEGEND OF KANIPAHU, THE GRANDSON OF PILI.
I.
About the period of A.D. 1160 Kanipahu was the nominal sovereign
of the island of Hawaii. He was the grandson of Pili, who near the
close of the previous century came from Samoa, at the solicitation of
the high-priest Paao, to assume the moiship left vacant by the death
of Kapawa, whose grandfather was probably the first of the southern
chiefs who came to the Hawaiian group during the important migratory
movements of the eleventh and twelfth centuries.
Although the sovereignty of the entire island was claimed by the
Pili family, disturbances were frequent in the time of Kanipahu,
and a few of the native chiefs of the old stock of Nanaula, which
held sway in the group for nearly six centuries, refused to yield
allegiance to the new dynasty. To strengthen his power and placate the
native chiefs and people, Kanipahu took to wife Hualani, the fifth in
descent from Maweke, of the Nanaula line, and subsequently Alaikaua,
who was probably of the same native strain.
The makaainana, or common people, however, seem to have been better
satisfied with their new rulers than were their former chiefs who had
been supplanted in authority, and it was therefore with difficulty that
they could be aroused to a resistance to political conditions which
imposed upon them no hardships which they had not borne under their
old rulers, and no responsibilities with which they were not already
familiar. And, besides, the new-comers from the south had introduced
new laws, new customs and new products of the soil, as well as new
gods and new forms of worship. They had brought with them the kaeke,
or sacred drum, and puloulou, or inviolable tabu staff, crowned with
balls of white or black kapa. They had also instituted the title of
moi, or supreme sovereign, whereas the several islands before had been
ruled by scores of independent chiefs, each claiming and holding as
large a district as he was able to defend. They had established the
Aha-alii, or college of chiefs, through which the rank of every noble
might find recognition, and be perpetuated in his family. They had
constructed grander heiaus, or temples, and shut the populace from
the observance of many of their religious ceremonies. The tabus of
the chiefs and priests had been enlarged and rendered more strict,
and the priesthood had become more powerful and independent. The
persons of the mois and high chiefs had become more sacred, and they
exercised their functions with increased display and ostentation.
These additional exactions on the part of the new rulers, however,
were partially if not wholly compensated for to the laboring masses by
the protection brought to them through the political change against the
oppressions of their petty chiefs and land-owners; and it is therefore
probable that, on the whole, their social and industrial condition
was quite as tolerable under the new as under the old or native régime.
Kanipahu resided principally in Kohala, where his grandfather had taken
up his abode, and constructed mansions consistent with his sovereign
state. And it was there that the high-priest Paao, who brought Pili
to the group, established himself and family, after first landing
in Puna and erecting to his god the temple of Wahaula, the ruins
of which are still seen near the village of Kahawalea. After the
arrival of Pili it is probable that Paao removed with him to the more
populous district of Kohala, and there remained as his high-priest
and adviser. At Puuepa he erected the large heiau of Mookini,
the stones for which were passed from hand-to-hand from Niulii, a
distance of nine miles--a circumstance indicating the presence of a
large population on Hawaii at that time. As it was one of the largest
temples in the group--its walls, enclosing an irregular parallelogram,
having an aggregate length of 817 feet, with a height of 20 feet,
and a breadth of 8 feet at the top--a vast amount of labor must have
been required to transport the material over so long and rough a road,
with no appliance more effective than human muscle. But the walls
are so well built that they are standing to-day, and from a secret
crypt in the wall of the south side of the heiau were taken but a few
years ago, and are still preserved, two finely-polished stone disks
of a diameter of eight or ten inches, which it is not improbable were
the two strange idols which tradition says Paao brought with him over
the great waters from Upolu, and which were hidden by some faithful
kahu or servant of the heiau when the ancient worship of the people
was abolished by the second Kamehameha in 1819.
Kanipahu was a just and considerate sovereign, and sought by every
peaceful means to harmonize the conflicting interests of the chiefs and
strengthen and consolidate his power. To this end, as already stated,
he allied himself by marriage to the Nanaula line of chiefs, and
attached to his person and household a number of prominent nobles of
native lineage. The result was that for some years he ruled in peace,
and race jealousies were gradually wearing away, when a circumstance
occurred which suddenly terminated the reign of Kanipahu and drove
him into exile.
It was a sultry afternoon, near the time of the annual feast of Lono,
perhaps in 1172, that Kanipahu, after having despatched the business
of the day, was reclining on a couch of mats in the cool shade of
a palm-grove within the walled enclosure of the palace grounds--if,
indeed, two large wooden and thatched buildings, each a hundred or more
feet in length by forty in breadth, with eight or ten smaller houses
among the banana growths in the rear, may be called a palace. The
grounds were thickly studded with shade and fruit trees, embracing
almost every variety of value found on the island. Here and there were
shaded walks and vine-wreathed nooks in which rude seats had been
constructed; and as the sentinels lounged lazily at the entrance,
and the kahus of the king languidly administered to his wants, the
scene was a picture of royal power and barbaric comfort peculiar to
the Polynesian islands, but scarcely less imposing than the forms
and architectural environments of the jarls and princes of northern
and central Europe at that period. Each of the personal attendants
of the king was of the lesser nobility, and his office was one of
honor. Over the head of the drowsing sovereign the paakahili, or
kahili-bearer, at brief intervals waved his tuft of painted plumes,
while at a respectful distance stood the spittoon-bearer (ipakuha)
and head steward (aipuupuu).
The king was suddenly aroused by a tumult at the outer gate. There
was a sound of angry voices mingled with a clashing of spears, and
immediately after a tall chief, clad in maro, feather cape and helmet,
and bearing a stout ihe, or javelin, strode toward the royal mansion,
followed by a number of excited chiefs and their retainers. Reaching
the palace, the chief turned and faced his clamoring pursuers with
a look of defiance. To shed blood there was an offence which no one
was bold or reckless enough to commit, and, after one of the number
had first been despatched to the king to ascertain his pleasure, the
entire party of chiefs repaired to the royal presence, leaving their
weapons behind in the hands of the guards who had hurried toward the
scene of disturbance.
Bowing low before the king, who had risen to a sitting posture on his
couch, the chiefs waited for him to break the silence. Slowly scanning
his auditors, all but one of whom he knew and trusted, Kanipahu
finally fixed his eyes upon the face of the stranger and quietly said:
"Your face is strange to me. Who are you, and what brings you here?"
"Great chief, I am Kamaiole, a chief of Kau," was the reply, "and
I came to Kohala in search of my sister, Iola, who was stolen and
brought here about the close of the last season of rain."
"Have you found her?" inquired the king.
"I have found her," replied Kamaiole, bowing his head.
"Who took your sister away from Kau?" resumed the king.
"That man," said Kamaiole, pointing to one of the chiefs present;
"at least, so I presume, since he was seen in Kau about the time of
her disappearance, and I found her in his possession here."
The chief designated was a large and well-favored young man, with
a palm-tree tattooed upon each of his muscular thighs, and wearing
a number of gaudy ornaments around his neck. He was an alii koa, or
military chief, without possessions and in the service of the king,
to whom he was distantly related. Turning toward him, Kanipahu said:
"Speak, Waikuku, and answer the words of the chief of Kau."
Glancing savagely at Kamaiole, Waikuku bowed to the king and replied:
"It is true that Iola came with me from Kau, where I went to visit
the brother of my mother; but she came willingly, although I admit
without the consent of Kamaiole."
"Waikuku is of the blood of noble chiefs," said the king in a tone
of conciliation; "why not permit your sister, since it is her will,
to remain with him in peace?"
"She may remain," was Kamaiole's grim reply.
"And well may she remain!" exclaimed Waikuku bitterly. "Iola is
dead! To-day, even a few breaths past, her brutal brother found and
with his own hand killed her!"
"Killed her?" repeated the king.
"Yes, killed her," continued Waikuku; "and but that her cowardly
murderer sought the protection of the royal enclosure, my spear would
have tasted his blood!"
"Speak, and give good reason for this murder of the wife of Waikuku,"
said the king, sternly addressing Kamaiole, "or, by great Lono! I
will downward command your face!"
When a prisoner of war or malefactor was brought before an ancient
Hawaiian king, if his order was "Downward the face!" the prisoner
was taken away and slain at once by one of the royal executioners;
but if it was "Upward the face!" his life was spared, either for
complete pardon, slavery or sacrifice to the gods.
Giving little regard to the threat of the king, but burning with
wrath at the insulting language of Waikuku, Kamaiole proudly answered:
"I am of the aha-alii of Hawaii. My war-canoes are red, and pennons
float at their mast-tips. The blood of Nanaula is in my veins, and my
ancestors were of the alii-nui--were kings here generations before Pili
landed at Kohala or the Paumakuas blasted the shores of Hilo. With a
rank befitting it was my purpose to mate my sister. But she secretly
became the wife of a marauding puuku--possibly by force, probably by
the charm of lies and the glitter of shells--and I followed and slew
her, that her blood and mine might not be degraded by being mingled
with that of Waikuku!"
"Puuku!" hissed Waikuku, enraged at the low rank contemptuously given
him by Kamaiole, and making a hostile menace toward the speaker.
Kamaiole regarded Waikuku for a moment with a look of disdain, and
then continued:
"The occupation of this Waikuku--this woman-stealer--is that of war,
I have been informed. He boasted that his spear would have tasted
the blood of Kamaiole had he not sought the protection of the royal
grounds. I came here through no fear of his arm or the spears of his
friends, but to explain to the king why I had shed blood within sight
of the royal hale. But since he talks so bravely of blood and spears,
I challenge him to make good his words with me beyond the palace
walls. The matter is solely between us. I am prepared to answer to him
in words of combat for what I have done to-day. Or if, as I suspect,
he lacks the courage to give his warlike training a test so public,
I will ward a spear with such of his friends, one by one, as may feel
disposed to make his grievance theirs."
The chiefs looked at each other in amazement at the broad challenge
of Kamaiole, and the king seemed to be scarcely less astounded. But
the proposal could not be deemed either unfair or unusual, since,
according to the usage of the time, Kamaiole was answerable to Waikuku
for the death of Iola.
The stinging remarks of the dauntless Kau chief left to Waikuku no
pretext or excuse for declining the challenge, and the king somewhat
reluctantly consented to a settlement of the matter by the arbitrament
of single combat, with such weapons as might be mutually agreed upon.
Among the members of the royal household who witnessed this remarkable
interview with the king was a chief of the old native line called
Nanoa. Admiring the cool courage of Kamaiole, and feeling for him
something of a sympathy of lineage, he proffered to stand his friend
and adviser in the forthcoming encounter; and the arrangements finally
made were that the hostile parties were to meet just at sunset in
a grove immediately back of the palace enclosure. They were to be
armed each with two spears and a javelin. The spears were first to
be used when the combatants approached within twenty paces of each
other. These being thrown without ending the battle, the parties were
to advance to close encounter with their javelins, with the discretion
of either throwing or retaining them in hand. No other weapons were
to be used, and the conditions of the meeting were such that the king,
who proposed to be present, did not deem it probable that there would
be loss of life, especially as he had resolved to put an end to the
combat with the first wound received by either.
Promptly at the time appointed the principals were on the ground. The
attendants of Kamaiole were nowhere to be seen. By his orders they
had quietly left the village two hours before, and the only friend
at his side was Nanoa. He had thrown aside his cloak and helmet, and
stood stern and motionless at the place assigned him, with a spear in
his right hand, and another, with a javelin, at his feet. With limbs
and shoulders bare, and beard and hair black as midnight veiling his
neck, Kamaiole leaned upon his spear a picture of barbaric strength
and courage.
Thirty paces in front of Kamaiole stood Waikuku, similarly armed and
clad, but less calm than his adversary. Around him were a score or
more of high chiefs, some rallying and others advising him; but he
remained gloomily silent, nervously awaiting the arrival of the king
and the word for action.
In a few minutes Kanipahu, accompanied by a number of armed attendants,
arrived and took a seat prepared for him at a point about equally
distant from the two combatants. It being announced that everything was
in readiness, the king signaled the word to be given, and the hostile
chiefs, advancing five paces each, were in a moment balancing their
long spears for flight. The spear of Waikuku first shot through the air
in a line direct for his adversary's breast; but the latter adroitly
turned it from its course with a touch from his own weapon, which he
in turn launched at Waikuku without effect. The second spears were
thrown to the injury of neither, when they grasped their javelins and
slowly and warily began to advance. It was an exciting moment. As each
had gripped his weapon with both hands, it was apparent that neither
ihe would be thrown, and a hand-to-hand struggle was inevitable.
The king drew nearer to obtain a better view of the closing conflict,
and the spectators eagerly watched every movement of the advancing
chiefs. Approaching within striking distance--the javelins being about
six feet in length--a few feints were made, and Waikuku ventured
a desperate thrust at the breast of his opponent. The movement was
evidently expected, perhaps invited, for like a flash the point of the
ihe was thrown into the air, and the next moment Waikuku received a
thrust through the side. He fell, javelin in hand, and Kamaiole was
lifting his weapon to strike his prostrate enemy to the heart when
"Stop!" came the command of the king.
Heedless of the royal order, or too greatly excited to be able to
restrain his hand, Kamaiole savagely drove his javelin into the breast
of Waikuku, inflicting a death-wound.
"Downward the face!" thundered the king, exasperated at Kamaiole's
apparent defiance of his order.
The chiefs began to move forward to seize or slay the offender. Knowing
that his death had been decreed, Kamaiole recklessly poised his ihe,
red with the life-blood of Waikuku, and with a wild cry of "Yes,
downward the face!" hurled it at the heart of Kanipahu.
With exclamations of rage and horror the spectators sprang toward
Kamaiole, the most of them dropping their unwieldy spears and grasping
their pahoas, or daggers of ivory or hardened wood, as they advanced.
For an instant Kamaiole hesitated whether to defend himself to the
death with the javelin of the dying chief, or take the almost equally
desperate chances of escape by breaking through the lines of his
encircling enemies. He chose the latter, and, grasping the javelin,
started toward the king, with the view of drawing his assailants in
that direction. This object being accomplished, he suddenly turned
to the right, and charged and made an opening through the throng at
a point that seemed to be the weakest. As he flew past the yielding
line he miraculously escaped the spear and knife thrusts aimed at him,
and succeeded in putting himself beyond the reach of spear and sling
before real pursuit was made.
The javelin hurled at the king was received in the shoulder of
a faithful attendant who had opportunely thrown himself in front
of his royal master; and so rapid and confusing were the movements
following that Kanipahu had scarcely recovered from his consternation
at the bold assault upon his life before he learned that Kamaiole
had escaped. Giving orders for a vigorous pursuit of the fugitive,
the king walked to the body of Waikuku, and, discovering that life
was extinct, directed its respectful removal, and then proceeded
sadly to the royal mansion.
Kamaiole was not overtaken. He was strong and fleet of foot, and,
as darkness soon intervened in his favor, he was able to elude his
pursuers. He reached the coast in safety, and, boarding a canoe
awaiting him in charge of his attendants, set sail for Kau. This
provision for a hasty flight from Kohala renders it certain that
Kamaiole meditated desperate work on landing there, and the relation
of his subsequent exploits has shown how successfully he performed it.
II.
Kamaiole supposed he had killed his sister, and Waikuku, who had
seen her just before his unfortunate encounter, thought she had but
a few minutes to live; but the wounds inflicted did not prove fatal,
and Iola finally recovered and became the mother of a daughter to her
dead husband. Tradition attributes her recovery to the especial prayers
of the high-priest, but careful nursing and a good constitution were
probably the saving means, assisted by the fortunate escape of the
vital organs from serious injury.
Returning to Kau, Kamaiole began to prepare for war at once,
not doubting that Kanipahu, defied and assaulted at the very
gates of the royal mansion, would feel it his duty to bring him
to submission. Sending emissaries through the several districts,
he appealed to the native chiefs and people to join him in a revolt
against Kanipahu, for the purpose of transferring the sovereignty of
the island to a ruler of the old Nanaula line, and restoring to them
the simple worship of their fathers and the possessions of which they
had been despoiled by the southern invaders.
The appeal was not without effect. Substantial aid was promised in
Kona, Kau, Puna and Hilo, and in less than three months Kamaiole found
himself at the head of an army large enough not only to protect him
at Kau, which was doubtless the original purpose of the movement,
but to carry the war into Kohala and effect a general revolution.
Whatever may have been the plans of Kanipahu concerning the rebellious
Kau chief, he certainly seemed to be in no haste to put them in
execution, for when Kamaiole arrived in Kohala at the head of his
forces he was but feebly opposed. Tradition fails to account for
the apathy of Kanipahu in the face of the supreme danger confronting
him. All we are told is that, finding it impossible to raise an army
strong enough to suppress the formidable revolt, he left his sons with
a trusted friend in the valley of Waimanu, in the district of Hamakua,
and sought refuge for himself on the island of Molokai. Iola, fearing
to meet her brother, or that he might learn that she still lived,
also found an asylum with the young sons of Kanipahu in the secluded
valley of Waimanu.
Thus Kamaiole assumed the sovereignty of Hawaii almost without
opposition, and Kanipahu lived quietly and unknown at Kalae, on
the small island of Molokai. He dressed and comported himself as a
simple commoner, performing his own work, bearing his own burdens,
and accepting all the hardships to which the poor and untitled were
subject. He won the love of his neighbors for his kindness, and on two
occasions took up arms to assist them in repelling plundering raids
from Maui; and so well did he use his weapons that his humble friends
were astonished, and thought he must have been trained in the arts of
war, even if he was not of chiefly blood. It is well known that the
chiefs, as a class, were physically larger than the masses, so much
so that they claimed, and still claim, a descent distinct from that of
the common people. Kanipahu was nearer seven than six feet in height,
and his size was suggestive of rank; but he habitually stooped his
head and shoulders, that his height might be subject to less remark,
and labored more industriously than any of his neighbors in order
to convince them that he was reared to toil. And in the end, as the
years came and went, toil became a comfort to him, for it occupied
his thoughts and gave him dreamless and refreshing slumber.
Let us now pass over a period of eighteen years from the accession of
Kamaiole to the sovereignty of Hawaii. Kanipahu was still a laborer
on the island of Molokai, and his sons had grown to manhood in the
secluded valley of Waimanu, their rank and family ties known only to
a few who could be trusted. One of these sons was Kalapana, and he had
married Makea, the daughter of Iola. Her father was the dead Waikuku,
and her uncle was Kamaiole, the moi of Hawaii.
Kamaiole's reign had been eighteen years of almost continual
domestic turmoil and popular dissatisfaction. He was cruel, selfish
and arrogant; but he was also a cool and sagacious soldier, and his
craft and courage had thus far enabled him to thwart the organization
of discontent and enforce obedience to his authority. He had even
succeeded in securing the allegiance of every prominent chief in
the six districts of Hawaii--a political condition such as had never
before been achieved by any of his predecessors.
Wide-spread changes in feudatory tenures were the principal causes of
internal trouble. Under the Pili dynasty the land boundaries of the
native chiefs had been greatly shifted and narrowed to make room for
the chiefs of the new régime. In attempting to restore the old feudal
boundaries as far as possible, and adjust the new, Kamaiole had not
only stirred up bitter strifes among the nobles, but had unwittingly
disturbed the vassalage of the masses and thereby rendered all classes
restless and distrustful.
Finally the discontent became so general among the makaainana that
they appealed to the head of the Paao family, the high-priest of the
kingdom, for advice and assistance. They declared that they would no
longer submit to the tyranny of Kamaiole and the exactions of his
favored chiefs, and demanded a new ruler. Tradition ascribes this
movement almost wholly to the laboring people, but it is more than
probable that the priesthood took an early if not the initiatory part
in it, since the high-priest seems to have known that Kanipahu was
still living, and at once despatched a messenger to Molokai, informing
the exiled king that the people were ripe for rebellion, and advising
him to repair to Hawaii at once and place himself at the head of the
discontented thousands who would rejoice at his coming. Fearful of
treachery, Kanipahu declined to make any promises to the messenger,
and, in disguise, the high-priest himself proceeded to Kalae and
urged the old chief to return and reassert his authority on Hawaii.
Kanipahu was profoundly moved at the words of the high-priest, and no
longer doubted the sincerity and good faith of the tempting offer;
but he declined to accept it, and, when urged for the reasons, rose
sadly to his feet and said:
"Look at these hands, hardened and crooked with toil; look at
this face, begrimed and wrinkled with exposure to the sun and
rain; behold my bent head, and the unsightly hump that old age and
stooping labor have placed upon my shoulders! Is this the figure of
a king? No! The oo better becomes the hand of Kanipahu now than the
staff of sovereignty. Here have I contentedly dwelt for many years,
and here it is my will to peacefully die."
"Then are we without hope," replied the priest, in a tone of unfeigned
sadness.
"No, not without hope," returned Kanipahu. "My sons are in the valley
of Waimanu. I have heard from them many times. They are worthy of
their blood. Seek out Kalapana. He is brave, manly, sagacious. Tell
him that upon his shoulders Kanipahu, his father, places the burden
of the war against Kamaiole, and in advance bequeaths to him all his
valor may win, even the sovereignty of Hawaii."
"You are right, great chief!" said the priest. "We are not without
hope. Kalapana shall answer for his father, and from every heiau in
Hawaii shall prayers be spoken for his success."
The priest received the directions necessary to enable him to
communicate with the sons of Kanipahu, and secretly returned to
Hawaii to fan the smouldering fires of rebellion and prepare for the
coming struggle.
Although the high-priesthood had become too firmly established in
the Paao family to be changed by Kamaiole, he could not disguise
his dislike for the innovations made by the southern line upon the
simpler worship of his fathers, and neither confidence nor cordiality
existed between the political and religious authorities. The rebellion
against Kamaiole was therefore secretly but earnestly assisted by the
entire priesthood, and when Kalapana raised the standard of revolt
the people flocked to his support by thousands.
The rebellion was organized with extraordinary rapidity, and when
Kalapana suddenly made his appearance in Kohala at the head of a large
army, Kamaiole was in no condition to meet him. He hurriedly despatched
his lunapais, or war-messengers, to the chiefs of Kohala, Kona,
Hamakua and Hilo, commanding their prompt assistance, and summoned
the priests and diviners of the heiau of Mookini to make unusual
sacrifices to the gods and to bring him at once the auguries of the
uprising. But the chiefs responded with no alacrity to his call, and
the diviners informed him that triumph to his arms was possible only
in Kona. Kamaiole therefore abandoned Kohala, and, with such force as
he was able to assemble, fell back into North Kona, where the quotas
of warriors from the neighboring districts were ordered to join him.
Amidst great popular enthusiasm Kalapana marched into Northern Kohala
without opposition, and took possession of the royal mansion from which
his father had been driven into exile eighteen years before. Kanipahu
had not overestimated the capacity of his son. By instinct he was a
soldier, and from the moment that he appeared at the head of his army
the chiefs who had been rallied to his support by the priesthood saw
that the quiet and dreamy recluse of Waimanu was made to command; and
their enthusiasm in his cause, which was soon shared by the people,
made easy his way to victory.
Learning that Kamaiole had fallen back into Kona, Kalapana resolved
to follow him without delay, and, if possible, bring him to battle
before reinforcements could reach him from the south. The auguries
were more than favorable. They were not even ambiguous. They expressly
declared that Kamaiole would be killed in Kona. It was, therefore, with
confidence and enthusiasm that Kalapana and his steadily increasing
army started on their march for the adjoining district of Kona.
Meantime Kamaiole was not inactive. He had succeeded in gathering a
force of eight thousand men, and, learning that Kalapana was advancing
from Kohala, resolved to give him battle at a place called Anaehoomalu,
not far from the northern line of Kona. The point was selected for its
strategical advantages, and there Kamaiole, doubtful of the result--for
he could see that the tide had set in against him--determined to end
the struggle.
There was but a two days' march between the hostile camps, and
Kalapana pushed forward with cautious haste. The priests and kaulas
had promised him success, and the most influential chiefs of Hamakua
and Kohala were at his side. He had brought with him from Waimanu,
where it had been secreted for eighteen years, the war-god of Pili,
which had been redecorated, and was borne in front of him in charge of
the high-priest. And with him, to share his fate, went his young wife,
Makea, to care for him if wounded, to fight by his side, perhaps,
should the tide of battle turn against him; for at that time, and
later, the more courageous of the wives and daughters of the chiefs
not unfrequently, in emergencies, took an active part in the field.
On the morning of the third day after Kalapana's departure from
Kohala the two armies confronted each other, and Kalapana immediately
organized his forces for battle. Kamaiole saw that he was outnumbered,
and resolved to await the attack behind his defences. In the face
of the great odds against him in numbers he was by no means hopeful;
and, besides, the auguries were unsatisfactory, and three times the
night before he had heard the scream of the alae, the bird of evil
omen. But no feeling of fear affected him. Filled with gloomy courage,
he cheered his warriors with promises of victory, and, armed with a
javelin and heavy laau-palau, or rude halberd, placed himself at the
most exposed point of his defences and awaited the attack.
The battle opened, and with a wild rush a heavy division of Kalapana's
forces, armed with spears, clubs, and stone axes, was hurled against
the rough stone wall, four or five feet in height, behind which
the enemy found partial protection. The wall was leveled in places,
and desperate hand-to-hand conflicts followed, but the assault was
finally repulsed. Rallied and reinforced, a second charge was made,
but with no better success. The loss of life was great, and the result
began to look doubtful.
But Kalapana was not discouraged by these costly failures. Withdrawing
and strengthening the attacking division, and announcing that he would
lead the next assault in person, he ordered an attack in the rear of
the enemy by his entire reserve. This involved a rapid march of two or
three miles, and the passage of a deep ravine which Kamaiole relied
upon as a complete defence of his right flank. While this movement
was being executed Kalapana kept the enemy employed with heavy lines
of skirmishers and frequent menaces of more decided assault.
For more than an hour this desultory fighting continued, Kalapana
impatiently watching for the appearance of his flanking column on
the hill above the enemy. At length he discovered the first of its
advancing spears, and a few minutes later the entire body came into
view and began to pour down the slope. The final assault in front
was then ordered, Kalapana taking command in person.
The sudden attack in the rear carried consternation to Kamaiole's
warriors; but their undaunted leader coolly and resolutely prepared for
the worst. Hastily taking from the front defences such spears as could
be spared, he summoned the entire reserve, and with the united force
sprang like a lion to meet the attack from the hill. It came like an
avalanche and could not be stayed. The struggle was desperate. As his
warriors fell on every side of him, Kamaiole moved like a tower of
destruction through the conflict. He seemed to bear a charmed life,
and men fell like grass before the sweep of his laau-palau.
Suddenly an old man of large mould, with head bent and long, white
hair and beard sweeping his breast and stooping shoulders, stepped
in front of Kamaiole, and with a heavy spear-pointed club calmly but
dexterously warded a blow of the terrible laau-palau aimed at his
head, and, answering quick as thought, felled the royal warrior to
the earth like a forest tree. Around and over the body of the fallen
chief a desperate struggle ensued. But it was of short duration. Under
the command of Kalapana the front defences had been carried, and such
of the royal army as had escaped slaughter were soon wildly leaping
over the walls and retreating in confusion in all directions.
Pressing toward the rear at the head of his victorious warriors,
Kalapana was attracted to the fierce hand-to-hand conflict taking
place over the body of Kamaiole. Without stopping to inquire
the cause, he promptly plunged into the thickest of the combat,
backed by a few resolute followers, and speedily relieved the old
white-haired warrior from a struggle which was taxing his strength
to the utmost. This was the last stand made by the enemy in a body;
what remained of the battle was a merciless massacre of the wounded,
and the capture and retention alive of a few prisoners for sacrifice.
Resting for a moment and taking a survey of the field, Kalapana's eyes
fell upon the old warrior. With one foot upon the breast of Kamaiole,
he was leaning upon his war-club and scanning the face of Kalapana. His
ponderous weapon still dripped with gore, and his wrinkled face was
splashed with the blood of his enemies.
"Where is Kamaiole?" suddenly inquired Kalapana, grasping his
weapon, as if his work of death had not yet been finished. "Where is
Kamaiole?" he repeated to those around him. "Who has seen him?"
"Here is Kamaiole," replied the old warrior, pointing with bloody
finger to the face of the dying king.
Kalapana abruptly turned, and for a moment gazed in silence upon the
face of his fallen enemy. Although wounded to the death, Kamaiole
was still living, and his eyes showed that he was conscious of what
was transpiring around him.
"By whose hand did he fall?" inquired Kalapana.
"By mine," briefly answered the old man.
"And who are you?" continued Kalapana, with something of a feeling
of awe, "who have thus come unsummoned, in the guise of a god from
our sacred temples, to strike for the son of Kanipahu?"
The old man slowly raised his head, and, brushing back the white hairs
from his face, was about to speak, when the high-priest, with kahus
bearing the war-god of Kalapana, approached to greet his victorious
chief. Recognizing the venerable warrior, the astounded high-priest
dropped on his knees before him, exclaiming, "Kanipahu! Kanipahu!"
Almost in a dream, Kalapana, making himself known, embraced his father,
whom he had not seen for eighteen years, and then respectfully chided
him for coming secretly from Molokai and joining the army as a common
warrior, when his rank and abilities entitled him to supreme command.
The old chief smiled sadly as he replied:
"The purpose of my coming has been accomplished. With my own hand I
have answered in blood to the treachery of Kamaiole, and paid him
for the hump he has placed upon my shoulders. I shall return to
Molokai, and there the old hunchback will spend his few remaining
days in peace."
These words were heard and doubtless understood by Kamaiole, for he
closed his eyes, and a smile of defiance played for a moment about
his lips.
Just then Makea joined her husband, and was overjoyed to find him
victorious and unhurt. With the first lull of battle she had started
in search of him with a calabash of water, and to reach him had been
compelled to pick her way through ghastly heaps of dead. At the sound
of her voice, sweetly replacing the din of battle, Kamaiole opened
his eyes and fixed his gaze upon her face. Finally his lips moved as
if he would speak. Instinctively she approached the dying chief, and,
kneeling, poured into his open mouth a few swallows of water.
Kalapana turned and smiled at Makea's humanity, unusual on barbarous
battle-fields. A grateful look came into the eyes of Kamaiole, and
with a questioning glance he faintly syllabled "Iola!" the name of his
sister, and the mother of Makea, whom she closely resembled. Kalapana
caught the word, and, understanding its meaning, in a tone not far
from kind replied:
"No, not Iola, your sister, whom you failed to kill, but Makea,
her daughter, who is Kalapana's wife."
Kamaiole convulsively raised his head and arms--whether in a spirit of
rage or conciliation will never be known--and then dropped back dead.
The remainder of the story may be briefly told. In disregard of all
persuasion, Kanipahu returned at once to Molokai, where he lived and
died in obscurity, earning his own living and assuming no rank.
Kalapana was anointed king of Hawaii on his return to Kohala, and a
hundred prisoners were sacrificed to the gods at Mookini. His reign
was conciliatory and peaceful, and with Makea, whose full name was
Makeamalamaihanae, he became the ancestor of Kamehameha the Great.
THE TRIPLE MARRIAGE OF LAA-MAI-KAHIKI.
CHARACTERS.
Mulielealii, chief of western Oahu.
Kumuhonua,
Olopana, and
Moikeha, sons of Mulielealii.
Laa-mai-kahiki, adopted son of Moikeha.
Luukia, wife of Olopana.
Laamaomao, god of the winds.
Mookini, a high-priest.
Kamahualele, an astrologer and poet.
Puna, the principal chief of Kauai.
Hooipo, daughter of Puna.
Kila, son of Moikeha and Hooipo.
Hoakanui,
Waolena,
Mano, the three brides of Laa.
Ahukini-a-Laa,
Kukona-a-Laa, and
Lauli-a-Laa, the three children of Laa.
THE TRIPLE MARRIAGE OF LAA-MAI-KAHIKI.
THE LEGENDS OF MOIKEHA AND THE ARGONAUTS OF THE ELEVENTH AND TWELFTH
CENTURIES.
I.
Tradition abounds in bold outlines, here and there interspersed with
curious details, of the many prominent expeditions to the Hawaiian
Islands, from the beginning of the eleventh to the latter part of
the twelfth centuries, of adventurous Tahitian, Samoan and Georgian
chiefs. Learning of the existence and approximate location of the
group, and perhaps guided to an extent by intervening islands and
atolls that have since disappeared, they came with large fleets of
barges and double canoes, bearing their families and attendants,
their priests, astrologers and musicians, and by degrees possessed
themselves or their immediate descendants with the fairest portions
of the little archipelago. For a century or more bitter feuds
and frequent wars followed; but in the end the invaders and the
invaded, both of the same Polynesian race, became assimilated through
concession, intermarriage and fundamental identity of religious cult,
and thenceforth in a united and homogeneous stream flowed down the
years. The genealogies of the prominent chiefs and priests were alone
preserved; and while, in after-generations, some of them traced their
lines of rank to the native stock of Nanaula, and others to the chiefs
of the second migratory influx from the south, the ruling families
of the entire group had become so united in blood by intermarriage
that it was difficult to find a chief of distinction who could not
trace his lineage back to both.
But during the migratory period referred to, especially marked by
the coming of Nanamaoa, Pili, Paao and the Oahu and Maui Paumakuas,
the Hawaiian group was not the only scene of foreign adventure among
the central islands of the Pacific. The native chiefs of Hawaii, whose
ancestors had reached the group more than five hundred years before,
were quite as adventurous and skilled in navigation as their southern
invaders; and thus while the latter, continually augmented in numbers
by fresh arrivals, were steadily possessing themselves of the lands
and governing forces of the Hawaiian Islands, a few resolute chiefs
of the old line, either in a spirit of retaliation or because the way
had been pointed out, boldly spread their sails for the abandoned
homes of their aggressors, and by conquest or other means acquired
lands and influence in the distant islands of the south.
The mooolelo about to be related embraces the romantic story of
one of these expeditions of native Hawaiian chiefs to the southern
islands, and presents an interesting picture of the manners, customs
and aspirations of the mid-Pacific Argonauts of that period.
Somewhere about the year A.D. 1040 Maweke, a native chief of the line
of Nanaula--the first of the family that is brought prominently to view
in the chronology of the second influx--was the alii-nui, or nominal
sovereign, of the island of Oahu. He had three sons--Mulielealii,
Keaunui and Kalehenui. On the death of Maweke, the eldest son,
Mulielealii, acceded to the title of alii-nui, occupying the western
side of the island. Kalehenui was given possessions at Koolau, and
Keaunui was established in the district of Ewa. The latter became
the ancestor of a line of powerful chiefs in that district, and is
credited with having cut or opened the navigable channel near the
Puuloa salt-works, by which the estuary now known as Pearl River, not
far from Honolulu, was rendered accessible to navigation. No further
reference need here be made to this branch of the family beyond the
remark that Keaunui became the father of Lakona, and also of Nuakea,
the wife of Keoloewa, King of Molokai, and of the prophet Moi, who
fell with Kaupeepee in defence of the fortress of Haupu, as related
in the legend of "Hina, the Helen of Hawaii."
Mulielealii had three sons--Kumuhonua, Olopana and Moikeha--and
one daughter, named Hainakolo. As the eldest son and successor of
his father, Kumuhonua in time acceded to the patrimonial estates
and titles; but the younger brothers, not content, as they grew
to manhood, with the small allotments which must necessarily have
been accorded them, concluded to seek for ampler and more inviting
possessions elsewhere.
The Paumakua family occupied a large part of the eastern side of the
island, and, although they were of the stock of the second influx,
their relations with the native chiefs and people seem to have been
peaceful and satisfactory. Paumakua, who first appeared in native
annals two generations before the time of Olopana and his brothers,
either as an immigrant from one of the southern islands or the
son or grandson of a chief of recent arrival, was one of the most
restless and dashing of the prominent leaders of that period. The
legends of the time glow with stories of his marvellous exploits and
adventures in foreign lands, and the friendly feeling entertained for
his immediate successors was doubtless due in a great measure to the
respect established for them through his rank and prowess.
It is claimed by tradition that Paumakua visited all the foreign lands
then known to the Hawaiians, and brought back with him many things
that were strange. From one of his voyages he returned with two white
priests, Keakea and Maliu, from whom several ecclesiastical families
subsequently claimed descent and authority. At another time he brought
back Malela, a noted prophet and sorcerer, and three other persons of
a strange race, one of whom was a woman. Tradition somewhat minutely
describes them as "foreigners of large stature, bright, staring,
roguish eyes, and reddish faces."
As the voyages of this adventurous chief were sometimes of many months'
duration, and he is said to have prosecuted his researches in almost
every direction, it is not impossible that the foreigners with "roguish
eyes and reddish faces" were aborigines of North America. But, leaving
this to conjecture, tradition permits no doubt that Paumakua was a
skilful and fearless explorer, and through his enterprise acquired
renown for himself and respect for his descendants, one of whom is
about to be presented to the reader.
As already stated, the younger sons of Mulielealii, Olopana and
Moikeha, not content with their prospects in Oahu, resolved to seek
fame and fortune elsewhere. Both were unmarried, but, through some
circumstance or for some purpose not mentioned by tradition, Moikeha
had adopted a young son of Ahukai, the great-grandson and successor of
Paumakua. The name of the boy was Laa, or Laa-mai-kahiki, to which it
was subsequently extended. The child-chief could not have been without
political prospects, for he is referred to in the chants as "Chief of
Kapaahu and Lord of Nualaka." Although the custom was common then,
as now, among Hawaiians of every rank and condition, of exchanging
and adopting children, the adoption of so promising a scion of the
Paumakua line by a grandson of Maweke must have been the result of
some extraordinary compact, all reference to which has disappeared
from tradition.
Taking leave of their relatives on Oahu, Olopana and Moikeha, with
a considerable number of attendants, embarked for the island of
Hawaii, and established themselves at once in the beautiful valley of
Waipio, in the district of Hamakua. What chief, if any, they found
in possession there is not stated; but it was not long before the
valley was ruled by Olopana, with Moikeha as his principal captain and
adviser. The young chief Laa accompanied his foster-father to Waipio,
and there Moikeha began to instruct him in the manly accomplishments
for which in after-years he became distinguished.
To strengthen his rule and protect himself against the encroachments of
neighboring chiefs, Olopana married Luukia, granddaughter of Hikapaloa,
chief of Kohala, and a descendant of the ancient line of Nanaula, to
which Olopana himself belonged by lineage still more direct. He urged
his brother to follow his example and connect himself by marriage with
some one of the ruling families of Hamakua. Such an alliance could
have been readily made by Moikeha, for his strain was undoubted, and
in manly beauty and courtly graces he had scarcely a peer in all the
group; but he declared that he had a wife in his spear and an heir in
Laa, and would not create a jealousy in the family by adding to either.
But the brothers did not remain long in Waipio. A terrible hurricane,
followed by storms and floods, completely devastated the valley,
compelling the inhabitants to abandon their homes and seek refuge
elsewhere. Moikeha had never been satisfied with Waipio, and in the
midst of the ruin around them found little difficulty in persuading
his brother to make a bold push for the misty and far-off land of
Kahiki. Preparations for the journey were immediately made, and in five
large double canoes the brothers, with Laa and a considerable body
of attendants, set sail for the islands of the south. They knew the
general direction, and the sun and stars guided them in their course.
A prosperous wind wafted them to the Society group, and they finally
landed on the island of Raiatea, and forcibly took, or in some other
manner secured, possession of the district of Moaula. Olopana was
accepted as sovereign of the district, and soon became a ruler of
opulence and distinction. Moikeha, still his chief adviser, built
a sumptuous residence and heiau for himself, called Lanikeha, or
"the heavenly resting-place," and became noted for his hospitality.
For some time--perhaps for four or five years--the brothers dwelt
together in harmony, and then misunderstanding and trouble came between
them--it need scarcely be said, through a woman--which drove Moikeha
again to the sea and separated them for ever. A meddlesome native chief
named Mua, who was jealous of the popularity of Moikeha and desirous
of supplanting him in the favor of Olopana, called the attention of
Luukia on several occasions to Moikeha's affluent style of living,
and intimated that his purpose was to thereby secure the friendship
of influential chiefs, and in the end wrest the sovereignty of the
district from his brother. Alarmed at last, she bore the tale to
her husband, and at length succeeded in arousing his suspicions. A
coldness toward Moikeha very naturally followed. Olopana could not
help but note his brother's increasing popularity, and one day took
occasion to rebuke him for his extravagance and love of display,
suggesting, at the same time, that a more modest style of living would
comport better with his position. Moikeha, who had never harbored a
thought that was not loyal to his brother, was profoundly grieved at
these words of suspicion, and resolved to leave Raiatea at once and
return to the Hawaiian Islands. Feeling that he had gone too far in
thus indirectly accusing his brother of meditated treachery, Olopana
endeavored to persuade him to remain; but Moikeha's resolution could
not be shaken, and he set about preparing at once for his return to
the Hawaiian group.
The number of canoes manned and provisioned for the voyage is
not stated; but tradition avers that the fleet was equipped under
the superintendence of Moikeha's famous prophet and astrologer,
Kamahualele; and, with the priest Mookini, Laamaomao, the director of
the winds, and a large party of chiefs and retainers, the expedition
set sail for Hawaii, the young chief Laa being left behind with
Olopana.
It was one of the most imposing fleets that had ever sailed out of the
harbor of Opoa. The large double canoe bearing Moikeha and his priests,
gods, astrologer, principal navigator, wind director and personal
attendants, was the same in which he had sailed for Kahiki. The kaulua
was nearly a hundred feet in length, and afforded ample accommodations
for the forty or more persons assigned to it. It was painted red,
and at the masthead floated the pennon of a Polynesian alii.
Moikeha embarked with a number of distinguished companions, but the
most noted was Laamaomao--a name signifying, perhaps, the sacred bluish
green or wind clouds. He was the director of the winds, which were
stored in his ipu, or calabash, and went forth at his bidding. He bore
a close resemblance to the Æolus of the Greeks. After accompanying
Moikeha to the Hawaiian Islands he took up his abode near a place
called Hale-a-Lono, a well-known eminence of Kaluakoi, on the island
of Molokai, and was subsequently deified and worshipped as an aumakua,
or god of the winds.
With musicians and drummers to enliven the spirits of the voyagers,
and favoring winds from the ipu of Laamaomao, the journey seems to have
been prosperous, and no incident of note occurred until the island of
Hawaii was sighted. As the green hills of Kau came to view songs and
shouts of joy went up from the canoes. A voyage of over twenty-five
hundred miles in open boats had tested the patience of the party,
and land at last was a joyous sight to them all. Many leaped into the
water and swam beside the canoes. Mookini, the high-priest, burned
incense before the gods, at the same time addressing them a prayer
of thanksgiving, and Kamahualele, the astrologer and poet, recited
an inspiring chant in further celebration of the occasion. The chant
has been preserved by tradition.
Some of the early poetic accounts of the first appearance of the
islands of Hawaii above the surface of the ocean mention Hawaii,
the largest of the group, as suddenly rising from the great deep
and becoming a part of a row or cluster of islands "stretching to
the farthest ends of Kahiki," from which it is conjectured that,
centuries back in the past, islands now no longer existing marked the
way at intervals between the Society and Hawaiian groups. The other
islands of the Hawaiian cluster are referred to as natural births,
their parents being demi-gods or distinguished chiefs. Thus, in the
language of an old chant:
"Rising up is Hawaii-nui-akea!
Rising up out of the night (Po)!
Appeared has the island, the land,
The string of islands of Nuuamea,
The cluster of islands stretching to the farthest ends of Kahiki.
To Kuluwaiea of Haumea, the husband,
To Hina-nui-a-lana, the wife,
Was born Molokai, a god, a priest,
The first morning light from Nuuamea.
Up stands Akuhinialaa,
The chief from the foreign land;
From the gills of the fish
From the overwhelming billows of Halehale-kalani,
Born is Oahu, the wohi,
The wohi of Akuhinialaa,
And of Laamealaakona the wife."
Kamahualele began by repeating an ancient story of the origin of
the several islands of the group, and concluded his chant with these
hopeful words:
"O Haumea Manukahikele.
O Moikeha, the chief who is to reside,
My chief will reside on Hawaii--a!
Life, life, O buoyant life!
Live shall the chief and priest,
Live shall the seer and the slave,
Dwell on Hawaii and be at rest,
And attain old age on Kauai.
O Kauai is the island--a!
O Moikeha is the chief!"
Thus sang the poet, with his face toward the verdant slopes of Kau,
while the canoes of the fleet gathered around him, that all might
hear the words of one who read the fate of mortals in the stars.
II.
The prediction of Kamahualele, inspired by a sudden view of the coast
of Hawaii, was verified. A landing was made in the district of Kau,
the most southerly point of the island. There securing supplies of
provisions and water, the next landing was effected at Cape Kumukahi,
in the district of Puna; but a recent eruption from the crater of
Kilauea, or a subterranean channel connected with it, had devastated
a wide strip of country near the coast, and after a brief stay sail
was made for Kohala. Landing in that district, Moikeha and his party
were well received by Kaniuhi, the alii-nui and grandson of Pili,
and permission to offer sacrifices in behalf of the expedition in the
great heiau of Mookini was accorded the high-priest of Moikeha, whose
name, by singular coincidence, was identical with that of the temple,
erected by the high-priest Paao more than two generations before.
Leaving Kohala, Moikeha next touched at Hanuaula, on the island of
Maui; but, without stopping to exchange courtesies with Haho, the
noted moi of that division of the island, he sailed immediately for
Oahu. His purpose was to visit his royal father, Mulielealii, whose
residence was at Ewa; but his priest and seer so strongly protested
against the visit, declaring it to be contrary to the will of the gods,
that he directed his course around the northern side of the island,
touching at Makapuu and Makaaoa, and then sailing directly for the
island of Kauai.
On the evening of the second day after leaving Oahu, Moikeha anchored
his canoes in a roadstead not far from Kapaa, Kauai, where Puna,
the governing alii of the island, held his court, surrounded by the
chiefs of his family and a large number of retainers. Puna was one
of the most popular rulers in the group, and, strict as he may have
been in the exercise of his prerogatives, was always merciful in
dealing with offences thoughtlessly or ignorantly committed. He would
pardon the humble laborer who might inadvertently cross his shadow
or violate a tabu, but never the chief who deliberately trespassed
upon his privileges or withheld a courtesy due to his rank. His
disposition was naturally warlike, but as the condition of the
island was peaceful, and military force was seldom required except
in repelling occasional plundering raids from the other islands, he
kept alive the martial spirit of his chiefs and subjects by frequent
sham fights, marine drills, and the encouragement of athletic games
and friendly contests at arms, in which he himself sometimes took
part. Feasting and dancing usually followed these warlike pastimes,
and the result was that the court of Puna became somewhat noted for
the chivalry of its chiefs and the splendor of its entertainments.
Puna had but one child, a daughter named Hooipo. Tradition describes
her as having been, like the most of royal daughters painted by the
poets, a very comely maiden. She was therefore the pride and glory
of the court, and as she grew to a marriageable age her favor was
sought by a number of aspiring chiefs whose rank entitled them to
consideration; but, flattered by the contest for her smiles, and
naturally vain of a face which the unruffled waters told her was
attractive, she evinced no haste in making choice of a husband.
This tardiness or indecision was but very gently rebuked by
Puna. Although one tradition gives him two daughters, Hooipo was
doubtless his only child, and he was therefore indisposed to hasten
an event which would probably lead to their separation. But, as time
passed, the suitors of the young chiefess became so persistent, and
the rivalry for her assumed so bitter and warlike an aspect, that
Puna deemed it prudent for her to restore harmony among the rivals
by making a choice at once. But for no one of them did she seem to
entertain a decided preference, and therefore suggested that, since
a choice must be made, she was willing to leave it to the arbitrament
of such manly contest between the rivals as might comport with their
dignity and the character of the prize at stake. Puna eagerly accepted
the suggestion, as it opened the way to a selection without incurring
the enmity of all but the one chosen.
But what should be the nature of the contest? Each of the rival chiefs
was probably noted for his skill in some especial accomplishment,
and the difficulty was in naming a trial that would seem to be just
to all. Unable to decide the matter himself, Puna appealed to the
high-priest, and the next day announced that his palaoa--a talisman
consisting of a whale's tooth, carved and sanctified--would be sent
by a trusty messenger to the little island of Kaula; that four days
thereafter the rival chiefs should, each in his own canoe, start at
the same time and place from Kauai, and the one who returned with
the palaoa, which the messenger would be instructed to give to the
first of the contesting chiefs to land and claim it on the rocks of
Kaula, should be the husband of Hooipo, and the others must remain
his friends. The size of the canoes was left to the discretion of
the several contestants, but as no more than four assistants would be
allowed to each, very large canoes, of course, would not be used. Any
means of speed might be employed, including oars, paddles and sails.
The contest was admitted to be as fair as any that could be devised,
and the rival chiefs declared themselves satisfied with it, and began
to prepare for the race by securing suitable canoes and skilful and
stalwart assistants. It promised to be an exciting contest, and the
whole of Kapaa was on tiptoe to witness the start.
After a few days of preparation the messenger of Puna was despatched
with the palaoa to Kaula, with instructions to place it in the hands
of the first of the contesting chiefs to claim it on that island. The
messenger had been gone two days, and had probably reached his
destination, as the distance to be travelled was but little more than
a hundred miles, and the rival chiefs had everything in readiness to
bend their sails for Kaula, when Moikeha, as already stated, anchored
his fleet in the evening off Kapaa.
Early next morning, with his double canoe flying the standard of his
rank and otherwise becomingly dressed, Moikeha went ashore, where
he was cordially received by the chiefs of the district, and in due
time escorted to the sovereign mansion and presented to Puna. Without
referring to his family connections, he simply announced that he was a
chief from the distant land of Kahiki, and was traveling through the
Hawaiian group on a tour of observation and pleasure. He wore a maro
fringed with shells, a kihei or mantle of finely-woven and decorated
cloth, and on his head a lei-alii of brilliant feathers, while from
his neck was suspended by a cord of plaited hair a curious ornament
of mother-of-pearl set in ivory. He was a handsome representative of
savage manhood, and his bearing was dignified, correct and courtly.
During his audience with Puna, Moikeha met Hooipo--most likely by
accident, but he was so charmed by her bright eyes that he did not
leave the mansion until he found occasion to exchange a few pleasant
words with her. They seemed to be mutually pleased with each other, and
Moikeha accepted the invitation of the chief to consider himself his
guest until the next day, at the same time allowing him to send fresh
provisions to his people, whose canoes had been drawn up on the beach.
A brilliant entertainment of feasting, music and dancing in honor
of the distinguished stranger followed in the evening, during which
Moikeha was favored with the companionship of Hooipo, and learned of
the contest about to take place between the rival chiefs of Kauai to
determine to whom she should be given in marriage.
Hilarity and feasting were the order of the next day and evening,
for on the morning following the contesting chiefs were to start
for Kaula under the eye of Puna. Their well-equipped canoes were on
the beach, and their crews, drilled to work sail and oar together,
were in readiness.
Morning came, and with it a large concourse of people to witness the
departure of the chiefs. The canoes and their attending crews were
examined, and many wagers laid on the result of the race. Finally
the contesting chiefs made their appearance, followed shortly after
by Puna and the most of his household, including Hooipo, who was
conveyed to the beach in a manele borne on the shoulders of four
stout attendants. She was attired in an embroidered pau--a short skirt
of five thicknesses of thin kapa cloth reaching to the knees--and a
cape or short mantle trimmed with feathers. Her hair was braided in
a single strand at the back; her head and neck were adorned with leis
of flowers and feathers, and her limbs were ornamented with circlets
of shells and tinted seeds.
Everything being in readiness, the contending chiefs, eight in number,
appeared before the alii-nui, and, bowing low, proceeded in turn
to recite their kuauhaus, or genealogies, as they had been called
upon to do, to show in a formal manner that all their strains were
noble. As each concluded he again bowed, giving Hooipo a smile and
look of confidence, and stepped back to await the signal of departure.
The last of them had given his pedigree, the terms of the contest
had again been announced in form by a herald, and Puna was about
to order the simultaneous launching of the canoes, when Moikeha,
whose presence had not before been observed by the chiefs, suddenly
presented himself before the alii-nui, and, bowing first to him and
then courteously to the chiefs, said:
"Great chief, as this trial seems to be free to all of noble blood, I
accept the terms, and ask permission to present myself as a contestant
for the prize."
The chiefs exchanged glances of surprise, and a pleased expression
lighted up the face of Hooipo, who until that moment had manifested
but little interest in what was transpiring around her.
Puna hesitated a moment, and then graciously replied:
"Noble stranger, if your rank is level with the conditions, and the
chiefs now ready for departure urge no objection, my consent will
not be withheld."
A hurried consultation among the chiefs showed that some of them
objected; but as the stranger, with no knowledge of the coast and
apparently no canoe or crew in readiness, did not seem to be a
competitor to be feared, it was finally agreed that, should he be
able to establish his rank, which a few of them doubted, he might be
admitted to the contest.
This resolution having been communicated, Moikeha gracefully bowed
his thanks, and then began to recite his genealogy. Curious to learn
the strain of the courtly stranger, the chiefs pressed around him,
eagerly listening to every word. He began with Wakea, away back in the
past, when his ancestors were residents of other lands referred to in
Hawaiian story. Giving the record of thirteen generations, he brought
the connection down to Nanamaoa, the pioneer of the first migratory
influx to the Hawaiian group seven hundred years before. Thence,
generation by generation, naming father, mother and heir, he traced
down a line of sixteen successors to Maweke. Pausing a moment, while
a look of surprise and wonder was exchanged by the listening chiefs,
Moikeha continued:
"Maweke the husband,
"Naiolaukea the wife;
"Mulielealii the husband,
"Wehelani the wife;
"Moikeha the husband,
"Hooipo the wife."
Applause followed this announcement by the stranger that he was
the son of Mulielealii, the alii-nui of Oahu, and the jesting and
good-natured manner in which he concluded the kuauhau by predicting
his success in the coming contest, and marriage with Hooipo, made him
no enemies among the competing chiefs. Hooipo was now sure that she
could make a choice without the trouble and excitement of a race to
Kaula; but the canoes were ready, and all she could do was to hope
and pray that Moikeha would bring back the palaoa.
But what were Moikeha's preparations for the race? When asked by Puna,
he pointed to a small canoe with an outrigger drawn up on the beach,
and a single long-haired man of strange aspect standing motionless
beside it with a paddle in his hand. Puna shook his head doubtingly,
and Hooipo looked disappointed. Others who noted the stranger's slim
preparations for the race imagined that he was treating the contest
as a jest; but he announced himself in readiness, and the signal for
departure was given.
The chiefs sprang toward the beach, and in a few minutes had launched
their canoes and passed through the heavy surf, when with strong and
steady pulling the race began in earnest for the open sea. Moikeha
alone seemed to be in no haste. He took formal leave of Puna, and,
noting Hooipo's look of impatience, smilingly said to her as he
turned toward the beach: "I will bring back the palaoa!" The assurance
contented her. The other canoes were beyond the surf, but she believed
him and was happy.
Satisfying himself that the sail was ready for use and everything
required for the voyage aboard, Moikeha and his assistant shoved
their canoe into the water, and with a few vigorous strokes of their
paddles dashed through the surf. The passage was so adroitly made
as to attract the attention of the many who witnessed it from the
shore. For a few minutes the canoe remained almost motionless, except
as it was tossed from wave to wave. Then the sail was spread. This
movement was unaccountable to those on shore, for the little wind
stirring was directly from the west, to which point the canoe was
bearing for an offing to round the southern capes of the island. But
if the witnesses were surprised at the spreading of a sail under
such circumstances, they were little less than astounded when they
saw the sail fill with wind and the canoe suddenly speed out to sea
as if driven by a hurricane.
Moikeha's long-haired companion was Laamaomao, god of the winds, who
had accompanied him from Raiatea. Behind the sail sat the friendly
deity, from whose exhaustless ipu of imprisoned winds a gale was
sent forth which carried the canoe to Kaula before daylight the next
morning. Effecting a landing soon after sunrise, Puna's messenger was
found, and at once delivered to Moikeha the palaoa, which he had been
instructed to surrender to the chief first demanding it. Content in
the possession of the talisman, Moikeha and his companion remained
on the island for refreshment until past midday, and then started
on their return to Kauai, favored by the same winds that had borne
them to Kaula, but proceeding with less haste. Toward night the eight
other chiefs landed within a few hours of each other, and great was
their astonishment on learning that the palaoa had been delivered to
a chief claiming it early that morning.
"He must have had wings," said one of them.
"He was surely helped by the gods," suggested another, who had been
the first to land after Moikeha. "But for that the palaoa would have
been mine, as you all know. But who can struggle with the gods? Let
us not incur their anger by complaint."
As it was easy for the others to reconcile themselves to Moikeha's
success, good-humor was soon restored, and the next morning, in company
with the messenger, they all re-embarked for Kauai. On the evening
of the same day Moikeha landed at Kapaa, and hastened to place in the
hands of Puna the talisman which made him the husband of Hooipo. Now
assured of the rank of the victor, Puna was gratified at his success,
and Hooipo made no disguise of her joy. Tradition says she fell in
love with the handsome stranger on first beholding him; but be that
as it may, when he returned from Kaula with the palaoa she was frank
enough to confess that his success had made her happy.
In the course of a few days all of the defeated chiefs returned to
Kapaa, and Moikeha invited them to a feast, over which they forgot
their rivalry and renewed the pledges of friendship embraced in
the terms and made a condition of the contest. They sought by many
ingenious ways to draw from Moikeha the secret of his success; but he
failed to enlighten them, and they were compelled to content themselves
with the belief that he had been assisted by some supernatural power,
possibly by Apukohai, the great fish-god of Kauai, who sometimes
seized canoes and bore them onward with almost incredible velocity.
In due time Hooipo became the wife of Moikeha, who, on the death of
Puna, succeeded him as the alii-nui of Kauai, where he remained to
the end of his life. He was blessed with a number of sons, through
one of whom, it may be mentioned, the sovereignty of the island was
continued in the family after Moikeha was laid under the black kapa.
III.
Tradition next refers to Moikeha about twenty-five years after his
marriage with Hooipo. The death of Puna had left him the sovereignty
of Kauai, and his principal residence was at Waialua. He had seven
sons, and his court, like that of his predecessor, was noted for the
distinguished chiefs, priests, prophets and poets connected with it.
As the life of Moikeha was drawing to a close a strong desire possessed
him to see once more his foster-son Laa, whom, on his departure from
Raiatea, he had left with his brother Olopana, whose presumptive
heir and successor the young chief had become. In preparation for
a journey thither he ordered a number of large double canoes to be
repaired and put in order for the open sea, and had some time before
despatched a large party of hunters to the cliffs along the coast for
the feathers of the mamo, from which to fabricate a royal mantle for
the ward of his youth.
As but a single small yellow feather of the kind used in a royal mantle
is found under each wing of the mamo, the task of securing the many
thousands required was by no means a brief or easy service; but in
time the feathers were gathered and the cloak was completed. As the
choicest feathers alone were used, the garment was one of the most
brilliant and elaborate ever made on Kauai, and represented the labor
of a hundred persons for a year.
But when everything was in readiness for his departure for the south,
Moikeha concluded that he was too old and feeble to undertake the
voyage. In this conclusion he was sustained by the auguries of the
prophets and the persuasion of his sons. His third son was Kila. He
was distinguished for his capacity and courage, and especially for
his skill as a navigator, and it was finally decided that he should
make the journey to Raiatea as the messenger of Moikeha, and invite
Laa to revisit the Hawaiian group, assuring him of the feeble health
of his foster-father and of his anxiety to embrace him before death
separated them for ever.
Kila was delighted with the mission. For several years intercourse
between the Hawaiian and southern groups had been almost completely
suspended, but from boyhood his dreams had been of visits to the
far-off and misty shores of Kahiki, of which he had heard Moikeha
speak; and now that an opportunity was presented for gratifying
his appetite for adventure in unknown seas, his joy was boundless,
and so vigorously did he push the work of preparation that in a few
days the canoes were equipped and provisioned for the voyage. The
provisions consisted, in long voyages of that period, of dried fish,
dried bananas and plantains, cocoanuts, yams and potatoes, with
poi and paiai, fresh fruits and cooked fowls and pigs, for early
consumption. Large calabashes of fresh water were also provided,
but frequent baths largely diminished the craving for that necessity.
Sacrifices were offered, the auguries were pronounced favorable,
and the fleet of double canoes set sail for the south. Kila was
accompanied by three of his brothers, and, more important still, by
the venerable Kamahualele, the friend and astrologer of Moikeha, who
had borne him company from Raiatea more than a quarter of a century
before, and chanted his inspired visions of the future off the coast
of Kau. He went as Kila's chief navigator and especial counsellor.
The fleet passed through the group and took its final departure from
the most southern point of the island of Hawaii. Wind and weather were
both favorable, and without a mishap of consequence the expedition
arrived in due time at Raiatea, first touching for guidance at some
of the other islands of the southern group.
Kila landed at Opoa through the sacred entrance of Avamoa. His flag
and state were recognized by Olopana, who was still living, and the
sons of Moikeha and their personal attendants were ceremoniously
conducted to the royal mansion, where Kila made known the purpose of
his visit. Olopana was greatly interested in the story of Moikeha's
successful establishment on Kauai, but refrained from referring to
the circumstances which led to their separation many years before. He
was also informed of the death of his father, Mulielealii, and the
succession of his brother Kumuhonua to the rank and authority of
alii-nui of Oahu.
With the affectionate greetings of Moikeha, Kila presented to Laa
the brilliant mamo, or royal mantle, of which he was made the bearer,
and expressed the hope that he would comfort the few remaining days of
his foster-father by returning with him on a visit to Kauai. Olopana
strongly objected to the proposed journey, urging his advanced years
and the probability of his early death; but when assured by Laa of
his speedy return he reluctantly consented, and after a round of
hospitable feasts and entertainments, in his own double canoes, and
attended by his priest, astrologer, master of ceremonies, musicians,
and a number of knightly and noble friends, Laa accompanied Kila and
his party back to Hawaii.
The voyage was made in good time, and as the combined fleet, with
canoes of royal yellow and pennons flying, coursed through the group
to Kauai, stopping at several points to exchange courtesies with the
ruling chiefs, it attracted unusual attention; and when Laa landed
at Waialua, on the island of Oahu, to greet his relatives, and the
people learned that the son of Ahukai had returned from the distant
land of Kahiki rich in honors and possessions, they strewed his path
with flowers and welcomed him as if he were a god.
Proceeding to Kauai, after a brief stay at Waialua, Laa was
affectionately received by Moikeha, his foster-father, who had left
him a child in Kahiki, and for a month or more the Kauaian court
blazed nightly with feasts and festivals given in his honor.
Returning to Oahu, Laa took up his residence for a time at Kualoa. A
large mansion was constructed for him, with ample accommodations for
his friends and retainers, and the chiefs of the island esteemed it
an honor to share his friendship and accept his hospitality.
There was no jealousy of Laa, for it was known that he would soon
return to Raiatea, there to permanently remain as the heir and
successor of Olopana. In his veins ran the noblest blood of Oahu. He
was the son of the great-grandson of the great Paumakua in direct and
unchallenged descent, and the adopted heir of the grandson of Maweke,
the proud descendant of the Nanaula dynasty of kings.
It was not deemed well that the line of Paumakua, through so
distinguished a representative as Laa, should be perpetuated solely
on a foreign soil. From a suggestion the matter came to be seriously
discussed by the leading chiefs, and finally Laa was approached
on the subject. Being a young man, the patriotic proposal of the
chiefs very naturally accorded with his tastes, and, without great
persuasion, he expressed a willingness to comply with what seemed to
be a general request.
But the approval of Laa did not quite settle the delicate question,
as the chiefs at once observed on casting around for a suitable
wife for so desirable a husband. The most of them had daughters
or sisters of eligible rank and age. But which one of them should
they select? Whose family should be so honored? They were willing to
leave the choice to Laa, but, sagaciously anticipating the result,
he declined to make the selection.
As usual in momentous cases of doubt, the high-priest was consulted,
and the matter was settled in a manner quite satisfactory to Laa. It
was agreed that he should marry three wives, all on the same day, and
the maidens selected were Hoakanui, daughter of Lonokaehu, of Kualoa;
Waolena, daughter of a chief of Kaalaea; and Mano, daughter of a chief
of Kaneohe. All were noted for their beauty and distinguished blood.
The three brides were brought to the mansion of Laa, at Kualoa, on the
day fixed for the triple marriage, and the event was celebrated with
splendor and enthusiasm. The hoao, or marriage agreement, was made
public by a herald, as was then the custom among the nobility; the
brides, attired becomingly and decked with garlands, were delivered
in form to the bride-groom, and in the evening a feast was served
on the grounds to more than a thousand guests, with hula, mele,
and other festive accompaniments, including mele-inoas, or songs of
personal application to the new wives and their husband.
This triple marriage is one of the most thoroughly-established
incidents of remote Hawaiian tradition. After his marriage Laa
remained a year at Kualoa, and then began to prepare for his return
to Raiatea. He looked forward to his departure with mingled feelings
of regret and satisfaction, for his brief married life had been
singularly as well as most bountifully blessed. On the same day he
had been presented with a son by each of his three wives, and an
ancient chant thus refers to the event:
"O Ahukai, O Laa-a, O Laa,
O Laa from Kahiki, the chief;
O Ahukini-a-Laa,
O Kukona-a-Laa,
O Lauli-a-Laa, the father
The triple canoe of Laa-mai-kahiki,
The sacred first-born children of Laa,
Who were born on the same one day."
Moikeha died soon after, and Laa bade farewell to the Hawaiian Islands
and returned to Raiatea just in time to receive the dying blessing of
Olopana. As he had promised, he left his three wives and their sons
in Oahu, where they were well cared for. The names of the children,
as mentioned in the chant quoted, were Ahukini-a-Laa, Kukona-a-Laa,
and Lauli-a-Laa, from whom it was in after-generations the pride
and glory of the governing families of Oahu and Kauai to trace their
lineage. From Ahukini-a-Laa Queen Kapiolani, wife of Kalakaua, the
present sovereign of the islands, is recorded in descent through a
line of Kauaian chiefs and kings.
Kila, after his return from Raiatea, established himself in the valley
of Waipio, on the island of Hawaii, and became prosperous in the
possessions abandoned by his uncle Olopana a generation before. He
was the ancestor of several prominent Hawaiian families, who traced
their descent to him as late as during the reign of Kamehameha I.
With the return of Laa to Raiatea all communication between the
Hawaiian and southern groups seems to have abruptly terminated,
and for a period of about six hundred years, or until the arrival
of Captain Cook in 1778, the Hawaiians learned nothing of the great
world beyond their little archipelago, and knew that lands existed
elsewhere only through the mysterious mooolelos of their priests,
and a folk-lore consisting of broken chains of fables and tales of the
past in which the supernatural had finally become the dominant feature.
THE APOTHEOSIS OF PELE.
CHARACTERS.
Pele, goddess of the volcanoes.
Moho,
Kamakaua and
Kanehekili, brothers of Pele.
Kalana, a chief from the southern islands.
Kamaunui, wife of Kalana.
Hina, daughter of Kalana and Kamaunui.
Olopana, chief of Oahu and husband of Hina.
Kahikiula, brother of Olopana.
Kamapuaa, the monster son of Hina.
THE APOTHEOSIS OF PELE.
THE ADVENTURES OF THE GODDESS WITH KAMAPUAA.
I.
In the pantheon of ancient Hawaiian worship--or, rather, of the worship
of the group from the twelfth century to the nineteenth--the deity
most feared and respected, especially on the island of Hawaii, was
the goddess Pele. She was the queen of fire and goddess of volcanoes,
and her favorite residence was the vast and ever-seething crater
of Kilauea, beneath whose molten flood, in halls of burning adamant
and grottoes of fire, she consumed the offerings of her worshippers
and devised destruction to those who long neglected her or failed to
respect her prerogatives.
Her assistants and companions, as related by tradition, were her
five brothers and eight sisters, all of them clothed with especial
functions, and all but little less merciless and exacting than
Pele herself. The first in authority under Pele was Moho, king of
steam. The others were charged, respectively, with the duties of
creating explosions, thunders and rains of fire, moving and keeping
the clouds in place, breaking canoes, fighting with spears of flame,
hurling red-hot masses of lava, and doing whatever else the goddess
commanded.
As the family claimed tribute of the entire island of Hawaii, to
receive it they frequently visited the active and extinct craters
of other districts, and earthquakes heralded their departure from
Kilauea. The temples of Pele were numerous, particularly in the
neighborhood of old lava-flows, and their priests were always well
sustained. The crater of Kilauea was especially sacred to the goddess,
and the earth around it could not be safely disturbed. An offering
was first made of a part of everything eaten there, and fruits, pigs,
fowls, fish, and sometimes human beings, were thrown into the crater
to appease the wrath of the goddess and avert a threatened overflow.
The Pele family was neither connected with, nor controlled by,
the supreme gods of Hawaiian worship, nor was it a part either of
the ancient or later theocracy of the group, as brought down by
the priesthood of Hika-paloa, the godhead and trinity of original
creation. It was an indigenous and independent development of the
twelfth century, until which period the family was unknown on Hawaii;
and the strong hold it secured and for centuries maintained in the
native heart was due partly to a popular faith in, and worship of, the
spirits of departed chiefs and ancestors, and partly to the continued
and ever-visible evidences of the power and malignity of the volcanic
deities. And so, indeed, was it with the many other deities of Hawaiian
adoration. While Kane was deemed the creator and undoubted superior of
them all, they were seldom restrained in the exercise of their several
functions, and individual appeals to them through their priests were
necessary to secure their favor or placate their wrath.
With this brief reference to the worship and attributes of the terrible
goddess and her family, the story of their mortal lives will now be
told, and a plain relation given of the strange events which led
to their apotheosis. Every tradition refers to them as deities at
the time of their arrival at Hawaii and occupation of Kilauea, and
all abound in marvellous tales of their exploits, the most wonderful
being connected with the Oahuan warrior Kamapuaa, one of the lovers of
Pele, who was transformed by the bards into a supernatural monster--a
being half-man and half-hog--with powers almost equal to those of
Pele herself. A careful analysis, however, of the various mooolelos
of Pele and her family renders it plain that they came to the group
as simple human beings, and as human beings lived and died, as did
also Kamapuaa, and that superstition subsequently elevated their
mortal deeds to the realms of supernatural achievement.
The Pele family came to Hawaii during the reign of Kamiole, the
usurper, from one of the southern islands--probably Samoa--in about the
year A.D. 1175. It was of chiefly blood, and also of priestly lineage,
and, to escape the penalties of defeat, had, at the close of a long
and disastrous war, fled northward and found a home on Hawaii. The head
of the family had fallen in battle, and Moho, the eldest of the sons,
assumed the direction of what remained of the once powerful household.
The fugitives first landed at Honuapo, in the district of Kau, but,
finding no lands there available, coasted along to the southern
shores of Puna, and finally located in the valleys back of Keauhou,
among the foothills of Mauna Loa, including the crater of Kilauea. A
few miles to the westward an overflow had reached the sea the year
before, and as the volcano was still active, and earthquakes were
of frequent occurrence in the neighborhood, the valleys had been
deserted, and the new-comers who boldly settled there were soon
spoken of as being under the especial protection of the gods, since
they seemed to fear neither earthquakes nor threatened inundations
of fire. Under the circumstances almost everything they did was
credited to supernatural agencies, and it was not long before Pele,
Moho and Kamakaua--the three most influential members of the little
community--were regarded as kahunas of unusual sanctity and power.
The Pele family proper consisted, at that time, of Pele, her two
brothers, Moho and Kamakaua, and a younger sister named Ulolu, who
was after her apotheosis known as Hiiaka-ika-pali-opele. With them,
however, were a number of relatives--principally females, whose
protectors had perished in the struggle preceding their departure
from Samoa--and about thirty attendants. The brothers were large,
stalwart men, who had distinguished themselves in arms in their
native land, and their attendants were warriors of tried courage
and capacity. From these companions and assistants were created the
three additional brothers and seven sisters of Pele mentioned in the
meles of the bards. One of the former--Kanehekili--is said to have
been a hunchback, as was also Kamakaua, but the fighting qualities
of neither seem to have been impaired by the deformity.
Pele was as courageous as she was personally attractive. She had taken
an active part in the wars of her father, and with her own hand had
slain a chief who attempted to abduct her. Her brothers were devoted
to her, and her bright eyes and queenly presence commanded the respect
and homage of all who approached her.
And now, cultivating their lands in the valleys back of Keauhou, and
living contentedly and without fear of molestation, we will leave the
little colony for a time and refer to another important character in
the story we are telling--Kamapuaa, the traditional monster of Oahu,
whose deeds so aggrandize the folk-lore of that island. In some meles
he is depicted as a hog with a human head, and in others as a being
with a human form and head of a hog; but in all he is described as
a monster of prodigious bulk and malicious and predatory propensities.
II.
Glancing back a half-century or more before the landing of the Pele
family in Puna, we note the arrival in the group of a number of
independent parties of immigrants or adventurers from the southern
islands. Among them were the chiefs Kalana and Huma. They came with
considerable of a following, including the beautiful Kamaunui and a few
of her relatives. The party landed on the island of Maui, and, after
some wandering and change of locations, finally settled in Waihee, a
spot noted for its beauty and natural advantages. Huma loved the fair
Kamaunui. He had whispered soft words to her on their long journey
from Kahiki, and fed her with the choicest food to be found among
the stores of his great double canoe; but she loved Kalana better,
and, when she became his wife, Huma abruptly left Waihee, returning,
it is supposed, to his native land.
The only child of this marriage was Hina, who on reaching womanhood
became the wife of Olopana, a chief of the island of Oahu. Although
of the same name, he was in nowise related to the Olopana who was
the brother of Moikeha and grandson of Maweke. This chief had arrived
from the south a few years before his marriage with Hina, and, with
his younger brother, Kahikiula, settled in Koolau, or on the Koolau
side of the island of Oahu, where he had acquired very considerable
possessions. By what chance he met Hina, or through what influence
he won her, tradition does not mention, but as his wife she went with
him to Oahu, and there remained.
Hina was fair, and Kahikiula, unlike his brother, was young and
handsome. They were happy in the society of each other, and were
therefore much together. She went with him to the hills for wild
fruits and berries, and he followed her to the sea-shore to gather
shells and limpets. The jealousy of Olopana was at last aroused,
and when Hina presented him with a son he charged Kahikiula with its
paternity and refused to accept the child as his own. This estranged
the brothers and made the lot of Hina miserable.
From its birth Olopana disliked the child, and in his resentment
named it Kamapuaa, signifying a hog-child, or child of a hog. As the
infant showed no marked physical characteristics of that animal, it is
probable that Olopana fastened upon it the graceless appellation in a
spirit of retaliation. But, whatever may have prompted its bestowal,
the child certainly bore the name through life, thus giving to the
bards who chanted the story of his acts the cue and pretext for
shaping him into the monster depicted by tradition.
Having no love for Kamapuaa, Olopana took little interest in his
growth from year to year to the mighty manhood which he finally
attained, and which excited the admiration of all others. The more
Kamapuaa was praised the greater dislike did Olopana feel for him,
and at length the presence of the young giant became so obnoxious to
him that he ordered him, under penalty of death, to leave the district.
Failing to understand the cause of this unnatural hatred, the anger of
Kamapuaa was at last aroused, and he strode away from the home of his
youth with his heart filled with bitterness and vows of vengeance. As
he left, Kahikiula presented him with a long and finely-finished
spear tipped with bone, and his mother threw over his broad shoulders
the feather cape of a chief, and hung around his neck a palaoa,
or talisman carved from the tooth of some great animal of the sea.
Kamapuaa knew of a large cavern in the hills some miles distant from
Koolau, the name by which will be designated the place of his birth,
and thither he repaired and took up his residence. He led a wild,
predatory life, and was soon joined by others as reckless as himself,
until the party numbered fifty or sixty in all. Made bolder by
this following, Kamapuaa began to harass the estates of Olopana. He
stole his pigs, fowls and fruits, and whatever else his little band
required, and delighted in breaking his nets, cutting adrift his
canoes and robbing his fish-ponds. In a spirit of youthful bravado
he had his body, from his loins upward, tattooed in black, shaved
his head and beard to the resemblance of bristles, and hung from his
shoulders a short mantle of tanned hog-skin, the hair being left to
be worn on the outer side. In this guise his name did not seem to
be altogether inappropriate, and he was pleased at the terror his
appearance inspired.
Becoming still bolder, Kamapuaa resolved to inaugurate a more vigorous
warfare upon Olopana, and began to cut down his cocoanut-trees and
destroy his growing crops. This brought the matter to a crisis,
as such acts were always regarded as a declaration of war. The
depredations of Kamapuaa were invariably committed at night, and
it was some time before the real aggressors were discovered. Koolau
was filled with stories of the marauding exploits of a lawless band,
led by a monster half-man and half-hog, and the kahunas were called
upon to ascertain the character of the spoilers, and, if found to be
supernatural, placate them with sacrifices.
While the kilos were plying their arts the mystery was suddenly
solved in a more practical manner. Detected one night in destroying
the walls of one of Olopana's fish-ponds, Kamapuaa and a number of his
party were secretly followed to their hiding-place in the hills. This
information was brought to Olopana, and he promptly equipped a small
force of warriors to follow and capture or destroy the plundering band,
which, he was enraged beyond all measure in learning, was under the
leadership of his outcast son or nephew, Kamapuaa.
But the task of capturing or destroying Kamapuaa and his band was
by no means an easy one. Of the party first sent to attack them in
their mountain stronghold all were killed with the exception of a
single warrior, and he was allowed to return to tell the tale of the
slaughter and take to Olopana the defiance of Kamapuaa.
This satisfied the chief that Kamapuaa's purpose was rebellion as
well as pillage, and a force of six hundred warriors was organized and
sent against the outlaws. This forced Kamapuaa to change his tactics,
and, leaving their retreat, in which they might have been surrounded
and brought to submission by famine, the rebels retired farther back
into the mountains, where they for months defied the whole force
of Olopana. Frequent skirmishes occurred and many lives were lost,
but every attempt to surround and capture the desperate band was
frustrated by the dash and sagacity of their leader.
Once, when closely pursued and pressed against the verge of a narrow
gorge, the rebels crossed the chasm and escaped to the other side
by some means unknown to their pursuers, and the story was told and
believed that Kamapuaa, taking the form of a gigantic hog, had spanned
the gorge and given his followers speedy passage over his back to the
other side, when he leaped across at a single bound and escaped with
them. The spot marking this marvellous achievement is still pointed out
at Hauula, and the tracks of the monster in the solid rock are shown.
It is difficult to say just how long this desultory fighting continued,
but in the end the rebels were surrounded and nearly destroyed,
and Kamapuaa was captured unhurt and delivered over to Olopana,
to the great joy and relief of the people of Koolau. Olopana had
erected a heiau at Kaneohe, where Lonoaohi officiated as high-priest,
and thither he resolved to take his rebellious son or nephew, and
offer him as a sacrifice to the gods. Hina pleaded for the life of
Kamapuaa, but Olopana could not be moved. Satisfied that he would
listen to no appeals for mercy, she determined to save her son,
even at the sacrifice of her husband, and to that end secured the
assistance of the high-priest, through whose treachery to Olopana
the life of Kamapuaa was saved.
On the day fixed for the sacrifice Kamapuaa, carefully bound and
strongly guarded, was taken to the heiau, followed by Olopana, who
was anxious to witness the ghastly ceremonies, and with his own eyes
see that his troublesome enemy was duly slain and his body laid upon
the altar. In offering human sacrifices the victim was taken without
the walls of the heiau and slain with clubs by the assistants of the
high-priest. The body was then brought in and placed upon the altar
in front of the entrance to the inner court, or sanctuary, when the
left eye was removed by the officiating priest, and handed, if he was
present, to the chief who had ordered the sacrifice. This being done,
the offering was then ceremoniously made, and the body was left upon
the altar for the elements to deal with.
Standing, with three or four attendants, at the door of his tabued
retreat, within forty or fifty paces of the altar, Olopana saw
his victim preliminarily led to the place of sacrifice, and a few
minutes after motioned for the ceremonies to begin. Kamapuaa was taken
without the walls of the temple to be slain. He was in charge of three
assistant priests, one of them leading him by a stout cord around
his neck, another keeping closely behind him, and the third walking
silently at his side with the club of execution in his hand. Passing
beyond the outer wall, the party entered a small walled enclosure
adjoining, and the executioner raised his club and brought it down
upon the head of his victim. Kamapuaa smiled, but did not move. Twice,
thrice with mighty sweep the club descended upon the head of Kamapuaa,
but scarcely bent the bristly hairs upon his crown.
With a semblance of wonder the executioner, whose tender blows would
have scarcely maimed a mouse, dropped his club and said:
"Three times have I tried and failed to slay him! The gods refuse
the sacrifice!"
"It is so, it is so, it is so!" chimed his companions. "The gods
indeed refuse the sacrifice! We have seen it!"
Therefore, instead of slaying Kamapuaa, the assistants, as they had
been secretly instructed to do by the high-priest, removed the cords
from his limbs, smeared his hair, face and body with the fresh blood
of a fowl, and on their shoulders bore him back and placed him upon
the altar as if dead.
The high-priest approached the apparently lifeless body, and bent for a
moment over the face, as if to remove the left eye; then placing on a
wooden tray the eye of a large hog, which had been procured for that
purpose, he sent an assistant with it to Olopana, at the same time
retiring within the inner court, and leaving by the side of Kamapuaa,
and near his right hand, as if by accident, the sharp ivory pahoa,
or dagger, with which he had, to all appearance, been operating.
Giving but a single glance at the eye presented to him by the
assistant of the high-priest, Olopana passed it to an attendant
without the customary semblance of eating it, and approached the altar
alone. Kamapuaa did not breathe. His face was streaked with blood, his
eyelids were closed, and not a single muscle moved to indicate life.
Olopana looked at the hated face for a moment, and then turned to
leave the heiau, not caring to witness the ceremonies of the formal
offering. As he did so Kamapuaa clutched the dagger beside his hand,
and, springing from the altar, drove the blade into the back of
Olopana. Again and again he applied the weapon until the chief,
with a groan of anguish, fell dead at the feet of his slayer.
Horrified at what they beheld, the attendants of Olopana sprang toward
their fallen chief. But their movements, whatever their import, did
not disturb Kamapuaa. He had been accustomed to meeting and accepting
odds in battle, and when he had secured possession of the ihe and
huge axe of stone conveniently placed for his use behind the altar,
he boldly approached and invited an encounter.
But the challenge was not accepted. The attendants of the chief did
not ordinarily lack courage, but they were unnerved at the sight of
a victim, slain, mutilated and laid upon the altar by the priest,
coming to life and springing to his feet full-armed before his enemies.
Appearing upon the scene, the high-priest expressed great surprise
and horror at what had occurred, and his assistants wildly clamored
at the sacrilege; but no hand was laid upon Kamapuaa, and the friends
of Olopana finally left the heiau, taking his body with them.
This tragedy in the heiau of Kawaewae created a profound excitement
in the district. Had Kamapuaa been at all popular with the masses
the death of Olopana at his hands would have occasioned but little
indignation; but as many beside the dead chief had suffered through
his plundering visitations, and hundreds of lives had been sacrificed
in his pursuit and final capture, the people rose almost in a body
to hunt him down and destroy him.
Hina attempted to save her son from the wrath of his enemies, but
her influence was insufficient to protect him, and he again sought
refuge in the mountains; but his following was small, and he finally
crossed the island, and, with a party of forty or fifty reckless and
adventurous spirits, set sail for the windward islands in a fleet of
eight or ten canoes which he in some manner obtained from the people
of Ewa.
III.
More than one tradition avers that Kamapuaa traveled to foreign lands
after leaving Oahu, even to the lands where the sky and sea were
supposed to meet; but he made no such journey at that time. He spent
some months in sight-seeing among the islands southeast of Oahu, and
pretty nearly circumnavigated them all. Sometimes, for the lack of
better occupation, he and his companions engaged in the petty wars
of the districts visited by them; but they generally led a roving,
careless life, maintaining peaceful relations with all, and plundering
only when every other means of securing supplies failed.
And thus they journeyed from island to island until they reached
Hawaii. Kamiole, the usurper, had but just been defeated and slain
by Kalapana, the son of Kanipahu, the hunchback, and Kohala, where
Kamapuaa first landed, was still suffering from the effects of the
war. He therefore proceeded southward along the coast, touching at
several points in Kona; then rounding the southern cape of the island,
he sailed along the shores of Kau to Honuapo, where he landed and
spent several weeks.
It was while he was there that Kamapuaa first learned of the Pele
family in the adjoining district of Puna, and became acquainted with
the many stories of enchantment and sorcery connected with the little
colony. Pele was described to him as a woman of unusual personal
beauty, and the lands occupied by the family and its retainers were
said to be secure against lava inundations from Kilauea through the
especial favor and protection of the gods.
These strange stories interested Kamapuaa, and he resolved to
satisfy himself of their truth by visiting the mysterious colony. He
accordingly set sail with his companions for Puna, and, landing at
Keauhou, took up his abode near the sea-shore, not far from the lands
occupied by Pele and her relatives.
As the colonists seemed to pay but little attention to the new-comers,
at the expiration of three or four days Kamapuaa concluded to open
a way to an acquaintance with them by visiting their settlement in
person, and with a few of his companions appeared one morning before
the comfortable hale of Pele and her family.
Moho received the strangers courteously, inquired the purpose of
their visit to Keauhou and from what part of the country they came,
and hospitably invited them to a breakfast of meat, potatoes, poi and
fruits. The invitation was not declined, and during the repast Moho
learned from Kamapuaa that he was the chief of the party, and that
the visit of himself and companions to Puna had no especial object
beyond that of observation and pleasure.
The tattooed body and bristly hair and beard of Kamapuaa imparted to
his otherwise handsome person a strangely ferocious and forbidding
appearance, and at the mention of his name and place of nativity Moho
at once recognized in him, from report, the monster of Oahu, who had
ravaged the estates of Olopana and finally assassinated that chief
in the heiau of Kawaewae. His presence, therefore, in that part of
Puna, was considerably less welcome than the words of Moho implied;
but no act of the latter indicated a suspicion that the ulterior
purposes of his visitors were possibly otherwise than peaceful,
and when they took their departure for the beach it was with mutual
assurances of friendship.
But Kamapuaa did not take his leave that morning until he saw Pele. He
found a pretext for prolonging his visit until she finally appeared,
and when Moho made them known to each other Kamapuaa comported
himself with a grace and gallantry never before observed in him by
his companions. He admitted to himself that the reports of Pele's
beauty had not been exaggerated, and wondered how it happened that
she had remained for years unmarried.
The thought then came to Kamapuaa--perhaps not for the first time--that
he would marry Pele himself and settle permanently in Puna. The
idea of marriage had seldom occurred to him, but after he saw Pele
he could think of little else. He greatly admired her appearance,
and could see no reason why she should not be equally well pleased
with his. No mirror, save the uncertain reflection of the waters,
had ever shown him his hideously-tattooed face and bristly hair and
beard, and the hog-skin still worn over his stained shoulders was
regarded by him as a manly and warlike covering, well calculated to
impress with favor a woman of Pele's courage and accomplishments.
But Kamapuaa did not urge his suit at once. He visited Moho almost
every day for half a month or more, and endeavored to render himself
agreeable to Pele by sending her baskets of choice wild fruits,
fish from the sea which women were allowed to eat, and strings of
beautiful and curious shells gathered from the shores and caverns of
the coast. He saw her occasionally, and observed that she avoided him;
but he attributed her seeming repugnance to him to a coyishness common
to her sex, and drew from it no augury unfavorable to his suit.
The companions of Kamapuaa soon discovered the attraction that was
keeping him so long in the neighborhood of Keauhou, where food was
becoming the reverse of abundant, and urged him to return to Honuapo;
but he silenced their clamors with promises of good lands and lives
of ease in the valleys back of them, and they hopefully struggled on
with their unsatisfactory fare.
Kamapuaa finally made a proposal of marriage to Pele; but she refused
to entertain it, and was promptly and heartily sustained by her
brothers. But a simple refusal did not satisfy Kamapuaa. He urged
that his blood was noble, and that the proposed union was in every
way fitting and proper, and would prove mutually beneficial. Enraged
at his presumption and persistency, Pele boldly expressed her contempt
for him and aversion to his presence. In return Kamapuaa threatened to
seize her by force and desolate the colony. Tradition asserts that
she thereupon defied his power, and denounced him to his face as
"a hog and the son of a hog."
But, whatever may have been the precise language used on the occasion
by Pele, it was sufficiently definite and insulting not only to
destroy the last hope of Kamapuaa, but to arouse in his heart the
bitterest feelings of revenge, and he retired in wrath to the beach
to plan and speedily execute a terrible scheme of retaliation.
Without referring to his final interview with Pele and her brothers,
Kamapuaa informed his companions that he was at last ready to move--not
to Honuapo, however, but to the cultivated valleys immediately back of
them, occupied by a family of foreign interlopers and their adherents,
who recognized the authority neither of Kalapana nor the governing
chief of Puna, and might therefore be dispossessed without incurring
the reproach or hostility of any power competent to punish. The
project pleased them, but they doubted their ability to drive from
their lands so large a number, the most of whom were doubtless skilled
in the use of arms.
But Kamapuaa promised to make the way clear to an easy victory. He
said he had carefully noted the number of the settlers, and observed
the places where the most of them lodged. His plan was to suddenly
fall upon them in the night and massacre all the male adherents
of the family. This done, they would be masters of the situation,
and able to treat on their own terms with the few who remained. It
was proposed to include the governing family in the slaughter, but
Kamapuaa opposed the suggestion, declaring that one of the brothers
of Pele was a priest of great sanctity, whose death by violence would
kindle the wrath of the gods; and his counsel prevailed.
Several days elapsed without any movement being made. Kamapuaa
was waiting, not only for a relaxation of the vigilance which
his incautious threats may have inspired, but for the dark of the
waning moon. Finally the blow was struck. Under the favoring cover
of darkness Kamapuaa and his companions left the beach and secreted
themselves near the scattered huts of the settlers, and at a signal,
some time past midnight, rose and massacred every man within reach
of their weapons. But few escaped. The screams of the women, who had
been spared, rang through the valleys as they fled toward the mansion
of Pele and her brothers for protection, and the band of murderers
returned satisfied to the beach.
It was the purpose of Kamapuaa to surround the home of the surviving
family the next day, and capture Pele by force, as he had threatened,
or otherwise bring her and her haughty relatives to terms. But, after
what had occurred, Moho readily understood the plans of the assassins,
and early next morning abandoned the family cluster of houses, which
could not be successfully defended, and sought refuge in a cavern in
the hills, about three miles up the valley, accompanied by the entire
family and the few others who had escaped the massacre of the night
before. There was water in the cavern, and as the fugitives took with
them a considerable quantity of provisions, and the opening to the
retreat was small and easily defended, they hoped to be able, even
if discovered and besieged, to protect themselves until the arrival
of relief or the abandonment of the siege as hopeless by their enemies.
The cavern was of volcanic formation and had never been fully
explored. It embraced a number of large connecting chambers, with
ragged avenues leading back into and up the hill. The only light
came through the front entrance, into which, from the inside, were
hastily rolled heavy boulders of lava, found here and there detached,
leaving openings through which spears and javelins could be thrust. A
tiny rivulet of water trickled in somewhere from the darkness, and,
after filling a shallow basin in the floor of one of the chambers,
ran out through the opening. As air came in from the back of the
cavern, it must have been connected with the surface through some
one or more of the dark avenues referred to; but not a glimmer of
light, so far as the occupants had been able to penetrate the depths,
indicated the possibility of an escape in that direction should the
cavern be rendered untenable by assault. The party numbered, in all,
seven men and eighteen women and children, and they had taken to their
retreat a goodly supply of arms and provisions enough to sustain them
for some weeks. Thus prepared they gloomily awaited their fate.
But they had fled to the hills not a moment too soon, for early in the
day Kamapuaa and his companions appeared and surrounded the deserted
habitations of the family. Discovering that his victims had escaped,
Kamapuaa promptly divided his followers into small parties, and
despatched them to the hills in search of the fugitives or of traces
of their flight. He also joined in the search, but went unattended.
In the course of the day all returned to the deserted huts, where
they had taken up their quarters, and reported that no traces of the
missing colonists had been discovered, and the general opinion was
that they had escaped across the mountains. Kamapuaa waited until
all the rest had told the stories of their fruitless wanderings, when
he announced that he had found what they had lacked the sagacity to
discover. He informed them that the fugitives were secreted in a cavern
some distance up one of the valleys, where they could be surrounded
and captured without difficulty; but he did not mention that he had
made the discovery by shrewdly following a dog into the hills, and
watching the animal until it stopped in front of the entrance to the
cavern. He was willing that his companions should believe that his
success was due to some inspiration or prescience of his own.
A guard was immediately detailed to watch the cavern and see that no
one escaped, and the next day the place was surrounded and formally
besieged. Following these preparations, visible to Moho and his
handful of warriors, Kamapuaa approached the entrance sufficiently
near to be heard within, and demanded the surrender of the party,
promising that the lives of all would be spared.
The demand was refused with words of insult and defiance, and Kamapuaa
ordered an assault upon the entrance. Several attempts were made to
force the protecting rocks from the opening, but their interstices
bristled with spear-points, and, after a number of the assailants
had been wounded, that plan of attack was abandoned as impracticable.
A large quantity of dry wood, leaves and grass was then heaped in
front of the entrance and fired, in the hope of suffocating the inmates
with the heat and smoke of the conflagration; but the draught of air
through the cavern kept the smoke from entering, and, although the
heat for a time became oppressive immediately around the opening,
the connecting chambers were but slightly affected by it. The fire
was allowed to die out, and Kamapuaa, on too closely approaching the
entrance to note its effects, was made keenly aware of the failure
of the project by receiving a sharp spear-thrust in the arm.
As fire and assault had proved unavailing, and a long siege did
not accord with his purposes, Kamapuaa next endeavored to effect a
breach through the top of the cavern in the rear of the entrance. As
this necessitated the removal of an overlying mass of ten or fifteen
feet of soil and rocks, the undertaking involved a very considerable
amount of hard labor. But the plan met with general favor, and,
with oos and other implements obtained from the valleys below, the
besiegers entered upon the task of excavating through into the cavern.
For several days the work progressed almost uninterruptedly, and
a large pit had been lowered to a depth of eight or ten feet, when
the earth began to tremble violently, and a few minutes after the air
was filled with sulphurous smoke and ashes. But this was not the most
appalling sight beheld by Kamapuaa and his companions. Looking up the
valley, which at that point was little more than a narrow gorge, they
saw a flood of lava, full a hundred feet in width, bursting from the
hillside and pouring down the ravine, its high-advancing crest aflame
with burning timber, and sweeping before it a thundering avalanche
of half-molten boulders.
With exclamations of dismay they started in full flight down the
valley, closely followed by the devouring flood. On, on they sped,
past the deserted huts of their victims, past the sandy foothills, past
the cocoa-trees that fringed the beach. Turning at the water's edge,
they beheld the awful stream spreading its mantle of death over the
broadening valley, and speeding to the sea in broken volumes. Leaping
into their canoes, they plunged through the surf and paddled out to
sea. Setting sail for Honuapo, Kamapuaa saw, as they left the coast,
that the upper part of the valley from which they had fled was filled
with lava, and knew that the cavern in which Pele and her companions
had sought refuge from his wrath had been deeply buried by the flood.
When the news of the eruption reached Honuapo, the people, who
had heard so many strange stories of Pele and her family, did not
believe that they had perished. On the contrary, they declared that the
eruption had been invoked by Pele to drive Kamapuaa from the district,
and that if she had permitted her lands to be destroyed it was with
the view of taking up her residence in the crater of Kilauea. This
opinion soon crystalized into a belief which spread throughout the
island of Hawaii, and another generation saw temples erected to Pele,
the goddess of fire, and priests sanctified to her service. All but
three of her brothers and sisters were the creations of her early
priests, and their attributes gradually grew and took form as they
floated down the stream of tradition.
Many adventures are related of Kamapuaa after his flight from
Keauhou, but the most or all of them are the dreams of the poets of
after-generations; and further reference here to this most striking
of the early heroes of the group may be properly concluded with the
remark that, shortly after his experiences with the Pele family,
he immigrated with a considerable following to one of the southern
islands, where he married, distinguished himself in arms, and finally
died without revisiting the Hawaiian archipelago.
HUA, KING OF HANA.
CHARACTERS.
Hua, king of Hana, Maui.
Luuana, a priest of the king's household.
Luahoomoe, the supreme high-priest.
Kaakakai and
Kaanahua, sons of Luahoomoe.
Oluolu, wife of Kaakakai.
Kaakoa, and
Mamulu, his wife, friends of Oluolu.
Naula-a-Maihea, a high-priest of Oahu.
HUA, KING OF HANA.
THE LEGEND OF THE GREAT FAMINE OF THE TWELFTH CENTURY.
I.
With the reign of Hua, an ancient king of Hana, or eastern Maui,
is connected a legendary recital of one of the most terrible
visitations of the wrath of the gods anywhere brought down by Hawaiian
tradition. It is more than probable that the extent of the calamities
following Hua's defiant and barbarous treatment of his high-priest
and prophet was greatly colored and exaggerated in turn by the pious
historians who received and passed the moooelo down the centuries;
but the details of the story have been preserved with harrowing
conciseness, and for more than six hundred years were recited as a
solemn warning against wanton trespass upon the prerogatives of the
priesthood or disregard of the power and sanctity of the gods.
In some of the genealogies Hua is represented as having been the
great-grandfather of Paumakua, of Maui. This record, if accepted, would
remove him altogether from the Hawaiian group, since Paumakua himself
was undoubtedly an immigrant from Tahiti or some other of the southern
islands. As he was contemporaneous with the distinguished priest and
prophet Naula, who is said to have accompanied Laa-mai-kahiki from
Raiatea, he must have appeared two or three generations later than
Paumakua, and probably belonged to a collateral branch of the great
Hua family from which Paumakua drew his strain.
It may therefore be assumed that as early as A.D. 1170 Hua was the
alii-nui, or virtual sovereign, of eastern Maui. He is referred to
as the king of Maui, but it is hardly probable that his sway extended
over the western division of the island, as it was not until the reign
of Piilani, nearly three centuries later, that the people of Maui
became finally united under one government. Previous to that time,
except at intervals of temporary conquest or occupation, eastern
and western Maui were ruled by distinct and frequently hostile lines
of kings. Hence the sovereignty of Hua could scarcely have reached
beyond the districts of Koolau, Hana, Kipahulu and Kaupo, while the
remainder of the island must have recognized the authority either of
Palena, the grandson of Paumakua, or of Hanalaa, the distinguished
son and successor of Palena, since the later mois of Maui traced their
genealogies uninterruptedly through this branch of the Paumakua family.
But, from whatever source Hua may have derived his rank and authority,
he was a reckless, independent and warlike chief. Having access to the
largest and finest timber in the group, his war-canoes were abundant
and formidable, and when not engaged in harassing his neighboring
frontiers he was employed in plundering expeditions to the coasts of
Hawaii and Molokai. Tradition makes him the aggressor in the earliest
remembered war between Maui and Hawaii. Although the name of the war
(Kanuioohio) has been preserved, it probably did not reach beyond
the limit of a powerful marauding excursion to the coast of Hilo,
Hawaii, resulting in the defeat of the chiefs of that district by
Hua, but in nothing more than a temporary seizure and occupation of
their lands; for at that time Kanipahu was the moi of Hawaii, and
would scarcely have permitted a permanent hostile lodgment in Hilo,
whose chiefs acknowledged his suzerainty and were therefore entitled
to his protection.
The high-priest of Hua was Luahoomoe. He claimed to be an iku-pau--that
is, a direct descendant from Kane--and as such was strict in claiming
respect for his person and sacred prerogatives. He did not approve of
many of Hua's marauding acts, advising him instead to lead his people
in happier and more peaceful pursuits, and not provoke either the
retaliation of his enemies or the anger of the gods. This opposition
to his aggressive methods exasperated Hua, and a feeling of suspicion
and ill-will gradually grew up between him and the priesthood. He began
to attribute his occasional failures in arms to deliberately-neglected
prayers and sacrifices by Luahoomoe, and on one occasion, after having
returned from an unsuccessful expedition to Molokai, he placed his
tabu on a spring of water set apart for the use of the heiau, and on
another wantonly speared a puaa-hiwa, or black tabued hog, sacred to
sacrifice. When expostulated with for thus inviting the wrath of the
gods, he threatened the high-priest with similar treatment.
Hua resided principally at Hana, where he constructed one of the
largest royal mansions in the group, and all the leisure spared
from his warlike pastimes was given to revelry. He had a hundred
hula dancers, exclusive of musicians and drummers, and his monthly
feasts were prolonged into days and nights of debauchery and unbridled
license. Drunk with awa, an intoxicating drink made from a plant of
that name, he kept the whole of Hana in an uproar during his frequent
seasons of pleasure, and the attractive wives and daughters of his
subjects were not unfrequently seized and given to his favorite
companions.
The annual festival of Lono was approaching--an event marking the
winter solstice, and which was always celebrated impressively on every
island of the group. It was an occasion not only for manifesting
respect for the nearest and most popular deity of the godhead, but
for celebrating, as well, the ending of the old year and the beginning
of the new. The ancient Hawaiians divided the year into twelve months
of thirty days each. Each month and day of the month was named. They
had two modes of measuring time--the lunar and sidereal. The lunar
month began on the first day that the new moon appeared in the west,
and regulated their monthly feasts and tabu days. Their sidereal month
of thirty days marked one of the twelve divisions of the year; but as
their two seasons of the year--the Hooilo (rainy) and Kau (dry)--were
measured by the Pleiades, and their twelve months of thirty days
each did not complete the sidereal year, they intercalated five days
at the end of the year measured by months, in order to square that
method of reckoning with the movements of the stars. This annual
intercalation was made about the 20th of their month of Welehu
(December), at the expiration of which the first day of the first
month (Makalii) of the new year commenced. This was their Makahiki,
or new-year day. The five intercalated days were a season of tabu,
and dedicated to a grand yearly festival to Lono.
In preparation for this festival Hua had called for unusually large
contributions from the people, and, in anticipation of another hostile
expedition to Hawaii, had ordered quotas of warriors, canoes and
provisions from his subject chiefs, to be reported at Hana immediately
after the beginning of the new year. These exactions caused very
general dissatisfaction, and the priesthood assisted in promoting
rather than allaying the popular discontent. All this was reported to
Hua, and he resolved to liberate himself at once and for the future
from what he conceived to be an officious and unwarranted intermeddling
of the priesthood with the affairs of state, by deposing or taking the
life of Luahoomoe. In this desperate resolution he was sustained by
Luuana, a priest who had charge of the heiau or chapel of the royal
mansion, and who expected to succeed Luahoomoe as high-priest.
Hua sought in every way for a pretext for deposing or slaying
Luahoomoe; but the priest was old in years, exemplary in his
conduct, and moved among the people without reproach. Finally,
at the instigation of Luuana, who assumed that the advice was a
divine inspiration, Hua created a bungling and absurd pretence for
an assault upon Luahoomoe. The dishonesty of the scheme was exposed,
but it resulted, nevertheless, in the death of the unoffending priest.
As tradition tells the story, Hua found occasion in a public manner to
order some uwau, or uau, to be brought to him from the mountains. The
uau is a water bird, and seldom found in the uplands. As neither its
flesh for eating nor its feathers for decorating could have reasonably
been required, the object of despatching snarers in quest of it must
have been a subject of comment; but kings then, as later, did not
always deign to give reasons for their acts, and preparations were
at once made by the household servants and retainers of the king to
proceed upon the hunt.
"Be careful that the birds come from the mountains," said Hua,
addressing the trusted hoalii in charge of the hunting party--"only
from the mountains," he repeated; "I will have none from the sea."
"But can they be found in the mountains?" ventured the hoalii, looking
inquiringly toward Luahoomoe, who was standing near and watching a
flight of birds which seemed to be strangely confused and ominous
of evil.
"Do you inquire of me?" said the priest, after a pause, and finding
that the king did not answer.
"I inquire of any one who thinks he knows," returned the hoalii.
"Then the birds you seek will not be found in the mountains at this
season of the year," returned the priest, "and you must set your
snares by the sea-shore."
"Is it so that you would attempt to countermand my orders?" exclaimed
Hua, in apparent anger. "I order my servants to go to the mountains
for the uau, and you tell them to set their snares by the sea-shore!"
"I humbly ask the king to remember that I have given no orders,"
calmly replied the priest.
"But you have dared to interfere with mine!" retorted the king. "Now
listen. My men shall go to the mountains in search of the birds I
require. If they find them there I will have you slain as a false
prophet and misleader of the people!"
With this savage threat the king walked away with his hoalii, while
the priest stood in silence with his face bowed to the earth. He knew
the import of Hua's words. They meant death to him and the destruction
of his family. The bloody purpose of the king had been told to him
at the sacrificial altar, had been seen by him in the clouds, had
been whispered to him from the anu of the sanctuary.
"Since the gods so will it, I must submit to the sacrifice," was the
pious resolution of the priest; "but woe to the hand that strikes,
to the eyes that witness the blow, to the land that drinks the blood
of the son of Laamakua!"
Luahoomoe had two sons, Kaakakai and Kaanahua. Both were connected
with the priesthood, and Kaakakai had been instructed in all the
mysteries of the order in anticipation of his succession, on the death
of his father, to the position of high-priest. They were young men of
intelligence, and their lives had been blameless. Knowing that they
would not be spared, Luahoomoe advised them to leave Hana at once
and secrete themselves in the mountains, and suggested Hanaula, an
elevated spur of the mighty crater of Haleakala, as the place where
they would be most likely to escape observation.
But a few weeks before Kaakakai had become the husband of the beautiful
Oluolu, the daughter of a distinguished chief who had lost his life in
Hua's first expedition against Hilo. Twice had she sought the heiau
for protection against the emissaries of Hua, who had been ordered
to seize and bring her to the royal mansion, and in both instances
Luahoomoe had given her the shelter of the sacred enclosure. It was
there that Kaakakai first met her, and, charmed no less by her beauty
than her abhorrence of the lascivious intents of the king, he soon
persuaded her to become his wife. But, even as his wife, Kaakakai
did not deem her secure from the evil designs of the king, and had
found an asylum for her in the humble home of a distant relative in a
secluded valley four or five miles back of Hana, where he frequently
visited her and cheered her with assurances of his love.
As the danger was imminent, Luahoomoe urged his sons to leave Hana
without delay, promising Kaakakai that he would visit Oluolu the next
day, and apprise her of her husband's flight and the place to which he
had fled for concealment. But the old priest did not live to fulfil his
promise, and Oluolu was left in ignorance of the fate of her husband.
Early next morning the bird-hunters returned, bringing with them a
large number of birds, including the uau and ulili, all of which,
they averred, had been caught in the mountains, when in reality they
had been snared on the sea-shore.
Hua summoned the high-priest, and, pointing to the birds, said:
"All these birds were snared in the mountains. You are therefore
condemned to die as a false prophet who has been abandoned by his gods,
and a deceiver of the people, who are entitled to the protection of
their king."
Taking one of the birds in his hand, the priest calmly replied:
"These birds did not come from the mountains; they are rank with the
odor of the sea."
But the hoalii of the king steadfastly maintained that the birds
had been snared in the mountains, and Hua declared the assurance
of the hunters to be sufficient to outweigh the flimsy testimony of
the priest.
Luahoomoe saw that he was doomed, and that the hunters had been
schooled to sustain the lying assertion of the hoalii; yet he resolved
to disconcert them all and make good his position, no matter what
might be the result. He therefore asked permission to open a few of
the birds, and the king sullenly granted it.
"Select them yourself," said the priest to the hoalii, and the latter
took from the heap and handed to him three birds. The priest opened
them, and the crops of all were found to be filled with small fish
and bits of sea-weed.
"Behold my witness!" exclaimed the priest, pointing to the eviscerated
birds, and turning toward the hoalii with a look of triumph.
Confounded and enraged at the development, Hua seized a javelin,
and without a word savagely drove it into the breast of Luahoomoe,
killing him on the spot. A shudder ran through the witnesses as the
venerable victim fell to the earth, for violence to a high-priest
was a crime almost beyond comprehension; but the king coolly handed
the bloody weapon to an attendant, and, with a remorseless glance at
the dying priest, leisurely walked away.
Sending for Luuana, he immediately elevated him to the dignity of
high-priest, and ordered the body of Luahoomoe to be laid upon the
altar of the heiau. The house of the dead priest was then burned,
in accordance with ancient custom, and the king's executioners were
despatched with attendants in search of the sons of Luahoomoe.
Proud of his newly-acquired honors, Luuana made preparations for
extensive sacrifices, and then proceeded to the heiau with the body
of Luahoomoe. As he approached the gate of the outer enclosure, the
tall pea, or wooden cross indicative of the sanctity of the place,
fell to the ground, and on reaching the inner court the earth began
to quake, groans issued from the carved images of the gods, and the
altar sank into the earth, leaving an opening from which issued fire
and smoke. The attendants dropped the body of the priest and fled
from the heiau in dismay, followed by the no less frightened Luuana.
The priests of the temple, who knew nothing of the death of Luahoomoe
until they beheld his body about to be offered in sacrifice, stood for
a moment awe-stricken at what was transpiring around them. They had
been taught that the heiau was the only place of safety for them in
a time of danger, and after the flight of Luuana and his attendants
they tenderly conveyed the body of the high-priest to a hut within
the enclosure to prepare it for burial.
Luuana repaired in haste to the halealii to report to the king what
had occurred at the heiau. But his story excited but little surprise
in Hua, for events quite as overwhelming were occurring all around
them. The earth was affected with a slight but continuous tremor; a
hot and almost suffocating wind had set in from the southward; strange
murmurs were heard in the air; the skies were crimson, and drops of
blood fell from the clouds; and finally reports came from all parts of
Hana that the streams, wells and springs were no longer yielding water,
and a general flight of the people to the mountains had commenced.
Such chiefs as could be found were hastily called together in
council. Hua was completely subdued, and admitted that he had angered
the gods by killing Luahoomoe. But what was to be done? Perhaps
the sons of the martyred priest might be appealed to. But where were
they? No one knew. It was suggested that a hundred human sacrifices be
offered, but Luuana declined to appear again at the heiau, and resigned
his office of high-priest. Another was appointed, and the sacrifices
were ceremoniously offered. The mu had no difficulty in obtaining
victims, for the people were desperate and offered themselves by
scores. But the drought continued, and the general suffering increased
from day to day. All other signs of the displeasure of the gods had
passed away.
Other sacrifices were offered in great profusion, and an imu-loa was
constructed, where human bodies were baked and in that form presented
to the gods. But the springs and streams, remained dry, and the clouds
dropped no rain.
The gods were redecorated, and the erection of a new heiau was
commenced, but the people remaining in the district were too few
and too weak to complete it; and a strict tabu was declared for a
season of ten days, but the people were too desperate to observe it,
and no attempt was made to punish those who disregarded it. Many
drowned themselves, insane from thirst, and such as could procure the
poisonous mixture died from the effects of koheoheo administered by
their own hands.
The drought extended to the mountains, and the people fled beyond; but
wherever they went the streams became dry and the rains ceased. The
pestilence became known in western Maui, and the famishing refugees
were driven back in attempting to enter that district.
After vainly attempting to stay the dreadful scourge, and seeing
his kingdom nearly depopulated, Hua secretly embarked with a few
of his attendants for Hawaii. He landed in the district of Kona;
but the drought followed him. Wherever he went the fresh waters sank
into the earth and the clouds yielded no rain. And so he journeyed on
from place to place, carrying famine and misery with him, until in the
course of his wanderings, occupying more than three years, he rendered
almost one-half of the island of Hawaii a desolation. Finally he died,
as the gods had decreed, of thirst and starvation--one legend says
in a temple of Kohala--and his bones were left to dry in the sun;
and the saying of "rattling are the bones of Hua in the sun," or
"dry are the bones of Hua in the sun," has come down to the present
as a significant reference to the fate of one high in power who defied
the gods and persecuted the priesthood.
But rainless skies and drought did not mark alone the footsteps of Hua
and his attendants. Wherever the despairing people of the district
went the same affliction followed. Some of them sailed to Hawaii,
others to Molokai and Oahu, and a few to Kauai; but nowhere could
they find relief. Everywhere the drought kept pace with them, and
famine and suffering were the result throughout the entire group. The
diviners had discovered the cause of the scourge, but neither prayers
nor sacrifices could avert or ameliorate it. And so it continued for
nearly three and a half years.
II.
During all the long years of famine and death what had befallen
Oluolu, the young wife of Kaakakai, left in the secluded valley
back of Hana? She saw the blight that suddenly fell upon the land;
saw the springs and streams go dry around her humble home; saw the
leaves of the banana wither and the grass turn yellow in the valley;
saw famishing men, women and children madly searching for water,
and tearing down cocoanuts for the little milk they afforded;
and then by degrees she learned of all that had transpired and was
still transpiring in Hana, including the sad story of the death of
Luahoomoe and the flight of Kaakakai. But whither had he fled? No one
could tell her; but, wherever he might be, she knew that, if alive,
he would some day return to her, and therefore struggled on as best
she could to live.
Her home was with Kaakao, whose wife was Mamulu. They had been blessed
with three sons, all of whom had perished in Hua's useless wars, and
now in their old age they were occupying a little kuleana, so far up
the narrow valley winding into the hills that no land for cultivation
was found above them. They had small patches of taro and potatoes,
a score or two of cocoanut-trees of old growth, and plantains and
bananas enough for their use. In the hills back of them were ohias
and other wild fruits, and, with pigs and fowls in abundance, there
was never any lack of food in the house of Kaakao.
But when the drought came, accompanied by the scorching south wind,
Kaakao shared the fate of his neighbors. His pigs and fowls scattered
in search of water, and did not return. The ripening plantains and
bananas, together with a few bulbs of taro, were hastily gathered,
and the food supply stored in the house was adequate to the wants
of the occupants for some weeks to come; but fresh water was nowhere
to be found, and the cocoanuts were stripped from the trees and laid
away to meet, as far as possible, the terrible emergency.
Thus passed nearly half a month, during which time harrowing reports
from the valleys below reached the kuleana through parties vainly
searching everywhere among the hills for water. Then Kaakao saw that
his supply of cocoanut-milk was nearly exhausted, and resolved to visit
the sea-shore, where he knew of a spring in times past dripping from
the rocks almost on a level with the waves. "Surely," he thought,
"that spring cannot be dry, with all the water around it." And,
swinging two water-calabashes over his shoulders, he started for
the sea-shore. But he never returned. In passing to the coast he was
seized, among others, and offered as a sacrifice in the heiau.
For two days his return was awaited at the kuleana. Then Mamulu
solemnly said: "Kaakao is dead. We have no more water and but little
food. Why suffer longer? Let us drink koheoheo and die."
"Not to-day, my good friend Mamulu," replied Oluolu, soothingly. "We
will talk of it to-morrow. Last night in my dreams a whisper told me
not to despair. Let us wait."
The next morning Oluolu rose at daylight. The last of the cocoanut-milk
was gone, and the mouths of both were dry and feverish. There was
a strangely cheerful light in Oluolu's eyes as she bent over the
suffering but patient Mamulu, and, holding up a calabash, said:
"I shall soon return with this filled with water!--think of it,
Mamulu!--filled with pure, fresh water!"
"Poor child!" replied Mamulu, not doubting that her mind was
wandering. "But where will you go for it?"
"Only a short walk--right up the valley!" returned Oluolu. "You know
the little cavern among the rocks. The mouth is almost closed, but I
can find it. The water is in the back part of the ana. It is running
water, but it disappears in the darkness. Perhaps it comes from Po;
but no matter--it is sweet and good. Luahoomoe came to me last night,
with his long, white hair smeared with blood, and told me he had sent
the water there. It is for us alone. If others know of it or taste it,
it will disappear. So we must be careful, Mamulu, very careful."
Leaving the woman almost in a daze at the words thus spoken in rapid
and excited sentences, Oluolu left the hut and started up the narrow
valley. A walk of three or four minutes brought her to the entrance of
an abrupt and chasm-like ravine gashing the hills on the right. To
its almost precipitous sides clung overhanging masses of ragged
volcanic rock, from the crevices of which a sturdy vegetation had
taken root, and in time past gloomily shaded the narrow channel; but
the interlacing branches of the trees were almost leafless, and all
around were seen the footprints of death and desolation. Not a breath
of wind cooled the sultry air, and no sound of living creature broke
the silence of the heated hills. The mouth of the ravine was partially
choked with huge boulders washed down by the freshets of centuries,
and the ground was strewn with dead leaves and broken branches.
Casting her eyes around in every direction, to be sure that she was not
observed, Oluolu quickly found a way over the boulders and ascended
the ravine. Proceeding upward thirty or forty yards, and climbing a
rocky bench, over which in seasons of rain had poured a little cascade,
she stopped in front of an overhanging mass of vitreous rock, and the
next moment disappeared in a stooping posture through a low opening
almost concealed by decrepitations from above. The opening led to a
cavern forty or fifty feet in depth, with an irregular width almost
as great. The floor descended from the entrance, and was smooth
and apparently water-worn. Two or three steps forward enabled her
to stand upright; but all beyond was darkness, and for a moment she
remained undecided which way to proceed. She heard a sound like that
of a bare and cautious footstep on the smooth floor. She was startled,
but suffering had made her desperate, and she listened again. The same
sound continued, but it was mellowed into the soft murmur of waters
somewhere back in the darkness, and with a swelling heart she groped
her way toward the silvery voice, sweeter to her than the strains of
the ohe or the songs of birds.
Closer and closer she approached, every step making more distinct
the joyful music, until at last she felt the spatter of cool water
upon her bare feet. Stretching out her hand, it came in contact
with a little stream gushing from the back wall of the cavern, and
instantly disappearing where it fell upon a layer of loose gravel
washed down from the entrance. She hastily drank from her palm, and
found that the water was cool and sweet. Then she held the mouth
of the calabash under the stream, and, after wetting her head and
drinking until prudence counseled her to stop, refilled the vessel,
cautiously emerged from the opening, and hastened back to the hut.
Hesitating without the door, to satisfy herself that no one had arrived
during her absence, Oluolu noiselessly entered, and, stealing to the
kapa-moe upon which Mamulu was half-deliriously dreaming, poured a
quantity of water upon her head, and, as she opened her eyes with a
bewildered stare, dropped a swallow into her parched and open mouth.
Half-rising, Mamulu dreamily felt of her dripping hair, and then
stared vacantly at Oluolu, who stood smilingly beside her with the
calabash in her hand. In a moment she recalled all that had occurred
before she dropped into the troubled sleep from which she had been
so strangely aroused.
"Then it is not a dream!" she murmured, clasping her wasted hands
upon her breast. "The gods have sent us water!" And she reached for
the calabash.
"No," said Oluolu kindly, withdrawing the vessel. "We have plenty,
but you are weak and would drink too much. Now lie down, with this
roll of kapa under your head, and while I am giving you a swallow at
a time I will tell you all about the water and how I found it."
And so, slowly feeding Mamulu with the precious fluid, and at the same
time bathing her head and throat, Oluolu related to her everything
that had occurred.
"But will the stream continue?" anxiously inquired Mamulu. "Would
it not be well to fill all the calabashes in the house, and all we
can procure, and so keep them, that we may not be left without water
should the stream disappear?"
"I think it would not be well to anger the gods by doubting them,"
replied Oluolu. "The water was sent, not to prolong our sufferings,
but to save our lives; and I am sure it will continue so long as we
guard the secret and allow no others to use it."
Oluolu's faith was rewarded. Without any diminution in volume
the little stream continued to flow and sink in the darkness of
the cavern until the wrath of the gods was appeased and the rains
finally came again. But Oluolu and her companion could not subsist
on water alone. The parched earth produced no food; but they did not
despair. Every day they cautiously watered a little patch of mountain
taro in the ravine above the cavern, and at intervals of four or five
days went to the sea-shore and returned with fish, crabs, limpets
and edible sea-weed.
And so they managed to live without suffering, while the valleys
became almost depopulated, and all others in Hana were stricken with
famine. They seldom saw a human face in their journeys to and from
the sea, and never in the valley where they lived, and the few they
met avoided them, fearful, no doubt, that the miserable means of
subsistence to which they resorted might become known to others.
III.
It was near the end of the terrible scourge that the district of Ewa,
on the island of Oahu, became its victim. It followed the appearance
there of a Hana chief and a few of his retainers, who had been driven
from Molokai. At that time there lived at Waimalu, in the district of
Ewa, the celebrated priest and prophet Naula-a-Maihea. No one in the
Hawaiian priesthood of the past was ever more feared or respected. It
was thought by some that he had visited the shadowy realms of Milu,
and from Paliuli had brought back the waters of life. He must have
been well on in years, for, as already mentioned, he is credited with
having been the priest of Laa-mai-kahiki on the romantic journey of
that prince from the southern islands.
In evidence of the great sanctity of Naula, tradition relates
that his canoe was upset during a journey from Waianae, Oahu, to
Kauai. He was swallowed by a whale, in whose stomach he remained
without inconvenience until the monster crossed the channel and
vomited him up alive on the beach at Waialua, Kauai, the precise
place of his destination. At another time, when crossing to Hawaii,
and beset with adverse winds, two huge black sharks, sent by Mooalii,
the shark-god of Molokai, towed him to Kohala so swiftly that the
sea-birds could scarcely keep him company.
He built a heiau at Waimalu, the foundations of which may still be
traced, and in the inner temple of the enclosure it is asserted that
Lono conversed with him freely; and at his bidding the spirits of the
living (kahaoka) as well as the shades of the dead (unihipili) made
their appearance; for it was believed by the ancient Hawaiians that
the spirits or souls of the living sometimes separated themselves
from the body during slumber or while in a condition of trance,
and became visible in distant places to priests of especial sanctity.
Consulting with the gods, Naula discovered the cause of the drought,
and, becoming alarmed at the threatened destruction of the entire
population of the group, undertook to stay the ravages of the
spreading scourge. With a vision enlarged and intensified by
sacrifice and prayer, he ascended the highest peak of the Waianae
Mountains. Far as the eye could reach the skies were cloudless. He
first looked toward Kaala, but discerned no sign of rain around its
wooded summits. He turned toward Kauai, but not a cloud could be
seen above the mountains of that island. Cloudless, also, were the
mountains of Molokai. Finally, casting his eyes in the direction of
Maui, he saw a small, dark spot like a rain-cloud hanging above the
peak of Hanaula. "It may disappear," he thought; "I will wait." Midday
came. He looked again, and the spot was still there. The sun grew red
in the west. Again he looked and found that the cloud had neither
disappeared nor moved. "Surely the sons of Luahoomoe are there,"
he said to himself. "I will go to them; they will listen to me,
and the waters will come again."
Naula descended from the mountain, and the same night embarked alone
in a canoe for Maui. He spread no sail, used no paddle, but all night
his waa skimmed the waves with the speed of the wind, and at sunrise
the next morning he landed at Makena, above which, a few miles inland,
towered the peak of Hanaula, with the dark spot still hanging over it.
There, indeed, were the sons of Luahoomoe. Nurtured by the rains that
had fallen alone on the peak of Hanaula, there they had remained unseen
for three and a half years, waiting for the wrath of the gods to be
appeased and for a summons to descend. A strange light accompanied
the canoe of Naula in the darkness. From their elevated retreat they
noted it far out upon the ocean, and watched it growing brighter as
it approached, until it went out on the beach at Makena. They knew it
to be the signal of their deliverance, and hastened down the mountain
to meet the messenger of the gods. One account says they met Naula
at Kula; but the meeting occurred not far from the Makena landing,
where the priest, inspired with a knowledge of their coming, awaited
their arrival. As they approached, the venerable kahuna, his white
hair and beard falling to his waist and a tabu staff in his hand,
advanced to meet them. They bowed respectfully, and, returning the
salutation, Naula said:
"I know you to be the sons of Luahoomoe, whose death by the hands of
Hua, King of Hana, has been avenged by the gods upon the people of
all the islands of Hawaii. The earth is still parched, and thousands
are seeking in vain for food and water. Hua is dead; his bones lie
unburied in the sun. Scattered or dead are the people of Hana; their
lands are yellow, and their springs and streams yield nothing but
dust and ashes. Great was the crime of Hua, and great has been the
punishment. I am Naula-a-Maihea, the high-priest of Oahu, and have
come to ask, with you, that the gods may be merciful and no longer
scourge the people."
At the mention of his name the sons of Luahoomoe bowed low before the
aged prophet of whose sanctity report had years before apprised them,
and then Kaakakai replied:
"Great priest, willingly will we add our voices to your supplication
to the gods, whose vengeance has indeed been terrible. But since our
retreat was revealed to you and nothing seems to be hidden from your
understanding, let me ask if you know aught of the fate of Oluolu. She
was my wife, and I left her in a little valley in the mountains back
of Hana. I loved her greatly, and am grieved with the fear that she
is dead."
Without replying the priest seated himself upon the ground, and,
unbinding the kihei from his shoulders, threw it over his head,
shutting the light from his face. While one hand pressed the mantle
closely to his breast, the other held to his forehead what seemed to
be a talisman of stone suspended by a short cord from his neck. He
remained motionless in that position for some minutes; then throwing
off the kihei and rising to his feet, he turned to Kaakakai and said:
"I was not wrong in my thought. The presence here of the sons of
Luahoomoe has sanctified the spot to communion with the spirits of
the air. Oluolu, alone with a woman much her elder, still lives where
you left her and hopefully awaits the coming of Kaakakai--for such I
now know to be your name. The spirit of Luahoomoe has nourished and
protected her."
"Great Naula, most favored of the gods!" exclaimed Kaakakai, grasping
the hand of the priest. "You have made my heart glad! Now ask of me
what you will!"
On the very spot from which the priest had risen they proceeded
to erect a rude altar of stones. When it was completed Naula
brought from his canoe a combined image of the godhead--the Oie
of the early priesthood--and a small enclosed calabash of holy
water--ka-wai-kapu-a-Kane. Removing the kapa covering, the image
was placed beside the altar, and while the priest recited the solemn
kaiokopeo, or prayer of consecration, Kaakakai intoned the invocation
and continued at intervals to sprinkle the altar with holy water.
The dedication ceremonies were at length concluded; but what was there
to offer as a sacrifice? The hills were bare and parched. Far as the
eye could reach the lands were deserted, and no living thing beside
themselves was visible. Suddenly there appeared among the leafless
shrubbery near them a large black hog sacred to sacrifice. The brothers
exchanged looks of wonder, but the priest did not seem to be greatly
surprised. The animal was immediately seized, killed and placed upon
the altar, and sacrificial prayers were devoutly offered.
In the midst of these services a wind set in from the south. Black
clouds began to gather, from which the answering voice of thunder
came, and then a gentle rain began to fall upon the sere and hungry
earth. Raising his face into the baptism, Naula with emotion exclaimed:
"The sacrifice is accepted! The gods are merciful, and the people
are saved!"
And the rains continued, not there alone but all over the islands,
until the grass grew green again and the banana put forth its
shoots. Everywhere the rejoicing was great. The people returned to
their deserted lands, and the valleys of Hana, even, blossomed as
before. But Hua and his family had perished from the earth, and a
new dynasty came into being to claim the sovereignty of eastern Maui.
The sons of the martyred Luahoomoe returned at once to Hana, and in the
arms of Kaakakai the brave and faithful Oluolu recited the story of her
sufferings and deliverance. With largely-augmented possessions Kaakakai
became the high-priest under the new régime, and for generations his
descendants continued to be among the most influential of the families
of eastern Maui. Kaanahua became the god of the husbandman.
The political events immediately following the death of Hua are
but vaguely referred to by tradition, and the few particulars
known doubtless owe their preservation to the care taken by the
priesthood--to which class the historians of the past usually
belonged--to bring down, with all its terrible details, the fate of
Hua, as a warning to succeeding sovereigns who might be disposed to
trespass upon the sacred domain of the spiritual rulers who, in a
measure, divided the allegiance of their subjects.
THE IRON KNIFE.
CHARACTERS.
Kalaunuiohua, king of Hawaii.
Kamaluohua, king of Maui.
Huapouleilei, alii-nui of Oahu.
Kahokuohua, king of Molokai.
Kukona, king of Kauai.
Kaheka, queen of Hawaii.
Kuaiwa, son of the king of Hawaii.
Kapapa, daughter of the king of Hawaii.
Waahia, a renowned prophetess.
Kualu, adopted son of Waahia.
Wakalana, an influential chief of Maui.
Kaluiki-a-Manu,
Hakoa and
Hika, males,
Neleike and
Malaea, females, shipwrecked foreigners.
Manokalanipo, son of the king of Kauai.
THE IRON KNIFE.
A LEGEND OF THE FIRST WAR FOR THE CONQUEST OF THE GROUP.
I.
Two or three attempts to consolidate under one general government
the several islands of the Hawaiian group were made by ambitious and
war-like chiefs previous to the final accomplishment of the project,
at the close of the last century, by Kamehameha I.; but all these
early schemes of conquest and aggrandizement proved unsuccessful,
and were especially unfortunate in affording excuses for retaliatory
raids and invasions, sometimes extending, with more or less persistency
and bitterness, to generations thereafter.
The most disastrous of these ambitious ventures was the first, and
connected with it were a number of strange and dramatic incidents,
giving to the story of the enterprise something more than a historic
interest. It occurred in about A.D. 1260, and the bold warrior who
attempted it was Kalaunuiohua, king of the island of Hawaii. He was
the grandson of Kalapana, who reconquered the kingdom from Kamaiole,
the usurper, as related in the story of "The Royal Hunchback."
At that time Kamaluohua, the seventh in descent from Paumakua,
was the moi of Maui, or rather of the western and greater part of
the island. Huapouleilei, the eighth in line from Maweke, was the
alii-nui of Oahu, his possessions embracing the districts of Ewa,
Waianae and Waialua, while the Koolau and Kona divisions were
ruled, respectively, by Moku-a-Loe and Kahuoi. The moi of Molokai
was Kahokuohua, the fourth in descent in the old Nanaula line from
Keoloewa, the brother of Kaupeepee, the abductor of Hina and desperate
defender of the fortress of Haupu, as told in the legend of "Hina,
the Hawaiian Helen." Kukona was the sovereign of Kauai. He was the
great-grandson of Ahukini-a-Laa, one of the three sons of the three
wives of Laa-mai-kahiki, as mentioned in the story of "The Triple
Marriage of Laa-mai-kahiki."
The contemporary rulers of the several islands are thus referred
to for the reason that they all appear as prominent actors in the
several legends from which have been gathered the historic features
of the story about to be related, and also for the purpose of keeping
partially in view the conspicuous and succeeding representatives of
the sovereign families of the group.
Kalaunuiohua--or, as he will be called hereafter, Kalaunui--inherited
something of the military spirit of his warlike grandfather, and is
referred to by tradition as an ambitious and aggressive sovereign,
courageous in enterprise, but lacking in judgment and discretion. This
estimate of his character is abundantly sustained by the record of
his acts.
Waipio had been made the focus of sovereign authority by Kahaimoelea,
the royal father of Kalaunui, and continued to be the most attractive
and consequential point in the kingdom. The royal grounds and
edifices had been enlarged and improved from time to time, until
barbaric taste and skill seemed to be able to add nothing more to
their grandeur or beauty. Not far from the royal mansion was the great
heiau of Pakaalani, partially built by Kalapana, and completed by his
successor. Its tabus were the most sacred on Hawaii, and a descendant
of Paao officiated there as high-priest. It was connected with the
palace enclosure by a sacred stone pavement, which it was death for
any but royal and privileged feet to touch, and on its walls were
over a hundred gods.
Kalaunui was proud of his ancestry, which carried back his lineage
both to Pili and Maweke, and united in his veins the foremost blood
of the pioneers of the fifth and eleventh centuries. He had two
children--a son named Kuaiwa, and a daughter, Kapapa, whose full
name was Kapapalimulimu. At the time of which we are writing she
was fifteen, and her brother was three or four years older. Both
had been carefully reared. The son had been instructed in all the
manly accomplishments of the time, and from her infancy the daughter
had been guarded with the most jealous watchfulness. She had grown
almost to womanhood without betrothal, for the reason that a husband
suited to her rank and personally deserving of her beauty could with
difficulty be found in the kingdom.
Among the number of the king's retainers of various grades of
rank--beginning with the wohi, or chief counsellor of royal blood next
to the throne, and ending with the kahu-alii and puuku, or personal
and other attendants at the palace--was the young chief Kualu. He
was large, muscular and handsome, with a bearing indicative of good
blood, and through his courage and capacity at arms had been raised
to the military position of pukaua, or captain, and placed in charge
of the palace guard--an office which gave him, if he did not before
possess it, the privilege of an aialo, or the right to eat food in
the presence of the king.
Kualu was a chief without possessions. His grandfather, a chief of
the old line of Nanaula, had been killed in the battle which restored
Kalapana to the throne of his fathers, and on the sudden death of his
father, twenty years before, he had been adopted by Waahia, a kaula, or
prophetess, renowned in tradition for her foresight and influence. He
was recognized by the Aha-alii, or college of chiefs of established
lineage, as of noble blood, but belonged to that class of chiefs who,
lacking the influence of family and estates, were compelled to rely
upon their own efforts for advancement.
Although it is claimed that Waahia was of chiefly lineage, nothing is
positively known, even of her parents. She first appeared in Waipio
more than a generation before, and, through an almost undeviating
verification of her prophecies, in time became noted and feared by
the people, not only as a favored devotee of Uli, the god of the
sorcerers, but as a medium through whom the unipihili, or spirits of
the dead, communicated. She lived alone in a hut in a retired part
of the valley of Waipio, and it is said that a large pueo, or owl,
which, with the white alae, was sacred and sometimes worshipped,
came nightly and perched upon the roof of her lonely habitation.
Of course a kaula of her sanctity wanted for nothing. The people were
only too happy to leave at her door anything of which she might stand
in need, and the best of everything in the valley came unbidden to
her board. Of her abundance she gave to the needy, and, while she
seldom spoke to any one, her looks and acts were kind to all. The
priesthood recognized her power, and the king and chiefs consulted
her in matters of moment when the kilos of the temple were in doubt.
She had reared Kualu with the greatest care, and saw him grow to a
manhood of which she was proud. She loved him as if he had been her own
child, and he repaid her affection by heeding her advice in all things,
and by kindness comforting her declining years. She had schooled him in
a lore which but few possessed, and the most skilful had instructed him
in the martial and courtly accomplishments consistent with his chiefly
rank. At the age of twenty he became attached to the household of the
king, and in time was advanced, as already stated, to the high grade
of captain of the palace guard. Although his abilities had commended
him to advancement, his early favor with the king was doubtless due
to some extent to the influence of his foster-mother.
Kualu's intimate connection with the royal household brought him into
frequent companionship with Kuaiwa and his sister, and as the latter
grew to womanhood a romantic attachment sprang up between her and
the handsome captain of the guard. It was romantic only because it
was to every appearance hopeless, for there was a wide gulf between
Kualu and the daughter of the proudest moi in all the group, and for
whom there seemed to be no fitting mate.
The home of Kualu was within the palace enclosure; yet he frequently
visited Waahia in her lonely retreat, to cheer her with words of
affection and see that she wanted for nothing. It was during one of
these visits, not long before the beginning of the leading events of
this legend, that the kaula abruptly said to him:
"Kualu, I can see that you are thinking much of Kapapa."
"We sometimes meet," replied Kualu, evasively.
"It is not well for you to try to gather berries from the clouds,"
returned the kaula, kindly. "A niapio of the highest rank alone can
reach that fruit."
"The flying spear brings down what the hand cannot reach," was Kualu's
significant answer.
Waahia smiled at the dauntless spirit of her ward, and after a long
pause, during which she sat thoughtfully, with her eyes fixed upon
the ground, said:
"Your hopes are bold, but the gods are great. Come to me to-morrow."
The next day Kualu was made joyful by the words of Waahia. She told
him that she had been given a view of something of his future, and
that the auguries promised so much that she could not discourage
even the most audacious of his aspirations; but that coming events
affecting his life were so mingled with wars, and strange faces of a
race she had never seen except in dreams, that she could then advise
no definite course of action.
With these vague words of encouragement Kualu returned to the palace,
and authoritatively learned, what had for some time been rumored,
that preparations were to be speedily made for an invasion of Maui,
and possibly of the other islands of the group. Having brought all
the districts of Hawaii under his control, Kalaunui entertained
the ambitious design of uniting the several islands of the
archipelago under one government. In this grand scheme of conquest
and consolidation he was sustained by the leading chiefs of Hawaii,
hungering for foreign possessions, and large quotas of canoes and
warriors were promised.
A general plan of action having been adopted, a fleet of two thousand
canoes of all sizes and an army of twelve thousand warriors were
speedily collected. Sacrifices were made at the great temple of
Pakaalani; the favor of the gods was invoked, and the auguries
were satisfactory. The king was to lead the expedition in person,
and the chivalry of the kingdom rallied to his support. His double
canoe, nearly forty paces in length, was gorgeous in royal colors and
trappings, and more than a hundred others bore at their mast-heads the
ensigns of distinguished chiefs. No such warlike display had been seen
by the generation witnessing it, and the confidence and enthusiasm of
the king and his commanding officers were fully shared by the people.
Leaving the government in the hands of his young son Kuaiwa, with
Kaheka, the queen-mother, as principal adviser, Kalaunui ordered the
warriors to their canoes, and with his aids and personal attendants
repaired to the beach to superintend the departure of the expedition
in person. In charge of his high-priest, his newly-decorated war-god
had been taken aboard, and the king was about to follow, when Waahia,
whose foster-son was one of the leaders in the enterprise, approached
the royal kaulua. She was clad in a pau and short mantle, and her
long, white hair fell below her shoulders. Her form was bent, and
she carried a staff for support.
At the sight of the venerable figure, familiar to every one in Waipio,
the king turned and said:
"I am glad you are here. Encouragement comes from the temple. What
says Waahia?"
"Good in the beginning! bad in the end!" was the blunt response of
the prophetess.
"I am instructed by your cheering assurances," adroitly returned the
king, observing that her words had been overheard. "The true meaning is
that it would be bad to abruptly end a good beginning." Saying which,
with something of a scowl he hastily stepped into his kaulua and gave
the signal for departure.
Without replying, Waahia, fully believing that disaster would overtake
the expedition in the end, and anxious to be near Kualu when it came,
entered one of the many canoes set apart for the women and other
camp-followers of the invading army, and with the fleet set sail
for Maui.
II.
While the Hawaiian army, cheered by chants of battle and beating of
war-drums, is buffeting the waves on its way to Maui, let us glance
again at the moi of that island and the political condition of
his possessions. While Kamaluohua was the nominal sovereign of the
island, the extreme eastern portion of it continued to be governed
by independent chiefs. The principal chief of the windward side was
Wakalana, whose residence was at Wailuku. He was a cousin of the moi,
and their relations were exceedingly friendly.
Two years before a remarkable event had occurred at Wailuku. It
was the second appearance in the group of a vessel bearing people
of a strange race, described by tradition as "white, with bright,
shining eyes." Mention is made of other white people who were brought
to the islands on one or more occasions by the argonauts of earlier
generations, notably by Paumakua, of Oahu, who near the close of the
eleventh century returned from one of his exploring voyages with three
white persons of an unknown race; but this was the second time that
a vessel of a people other than Polynesian had been seen in Hawaiian
waters. The first made a landing near Makapu Point, on the island
of Oahu, more than a hundred years before. Tradition has preserved
the name of the vessel (Ulupana) and of the captain (Mololano) and
his wife (Malaea); but as it is not mentioned that they remained in
the country, it is probable that they soon re-embarked.
The second arrival is more distinctly marked by tradition. It was
a Japanese vessel that had been dismantled by a typhoon, driven
toward the North American coast until it encountered the northwest
trade-winds, and then helplessly blown southward to the coast of
Maui. It was late in the afternoon that word had been brought to
Wakalana that a strange vessel was approaching the coast. As it was
high out of water and drifting broadside before the wind, it appeared
to be of great size, and little disposition was shown by the people
to go out in their canoes to meet the mysterious monster. Wakalana
hastened to the beach, and, after watching the vessel intently for
some time, saw that it was drifting slowly toward the rocky coast to
the westward. Seaman enough to know that certain destruction awaited
it in that direction, Wakalana hastily manned a stout canoe and started
out to sea in pursuit. The waters were rough and his progress was slow,
but he succeeded in reaching the vessel a few minutes after it struck
the cliffs and was dashed in pieces. Seizing whatever they could find
to assist them in floating, those on board leaped into the sea. It was
hazardous to approach the wreck too nearly, but Wakalana succeeded in
rescuing from the waves and returning to Wailuku with five persons,
but not before he saw the last fragment of the wreck disappear in
the abyss of raging waters.
There is nothing in the names preserved, either of the vessel or its
rescued passengers, to indicate their nationality. The name of the
vessel is given as Mamala, which in the Hawaiian might mean a wreck
or fragment. The name of the captain was Kaluikia-Manu; the four
others were called Neleike, Malaea, Haakoa and Hika--all names of
Hawaiian construction. Two of them--Neleike and Malaea--were women,
the former being the sister of the captain.
They landed almost without clothing, and the only novelties upon their
persons were the rings and bracelets of the women, and a sword in the
belt of the captain, with which he had thoughtlessly leaped into the
sea from the sinking vessel. They were half-famished and weak, and by
gestures expressed their gratitude to Wakalana for his gallantry in
rescuing them, and asked for food and water. Both were provided in
abundance, and two houses were set apart for their occupation. They
attracted great attention, and people came from all parts of the island
to see the white strangers. It was noted with astonishment by the
natives that these men and women ate from the same vessels, and that
nothing was especially tabu to either sex; but Wakalana explained that
their gods doubtless permitted such freedom, and they should therefore
not be rebuked for their apparent disregard of Hawaiian custom.
The comfort of the strangers was made the especial care of Wakalana,
and they soon became not only reconciled but apparently content with
their situation. But the kindness of the chief, however commendable,
was not altogether unselfish. He was charmed with the bright eyes and
fair face of Neleike, the sister of the captain. He found a pleasure
that was new to him in teaching her to speak his language, and almost
the first use she made of oia was to say "yes" with it when he asked
her to become his wife. Her marriage was followed by that of Malaea
to a native chief, and of her brother and his two male companions to
native women of good family. And here, as well as anywhere, it may be
mentioned that, through her son Alooia, Neleike became the progenitor
of a family which for generations showed the marks of her blood,
and that the descendants of the others were plentiful thereafter, not
only on Maui but in the neighborhood of Waimalo, on the island of Oahu.
The object of the rescued Japanese which attracted most attention
was the sword accidentally preserved by the captain. No such terrible
knife had ever before been seen or dreamed of by the natives. They had
pahoas, or daggers of wood or ivory, and knives of sharply broken flint
and sharks' teeth; they had stone adzes, axes, hatchets and hammers,
with which they could fell trees, hollow canoes from tree-trunks,
build houses, manufacture implements of war and industry, and hew
stone of softer composition; they had spears and javelins with points
of seasoned wood hard enough to splinter a bone; but iron and other
metals had for ages been practically unknown to their race, and the
long, sharp sword of the captain, harder than bone or seasoned wood,
and from its polished surface throwing defiantly back the bright
rays of the sun, engaged their ceaseless wonder and admiration. As an
ornament they regarded it with longing, and when they learned that it
was a weapon of war they felt that the arm that wielded it in battle
must be unconquerable.
The captain did not see fit to disabuse the minds of the superstitious
natives in their disposition to attribute a power of almost unlimited
slaughter to the simple weapon. On the contrary, he rarely exhibited
it except to distinguished chiefs, and in a few months it began to be
mentioned as a sacred gift of the gods and pledge of victory to him
who possessed it. Nor was the knowledge of the existence of a talisman
so wonderful long confined to the windward side of Maui. The fame of
the terrible weapon spread from Hana to Kaanapali, and thence to the
other islands of the group; and if but few of the many who came to
learn the truth of the report were favored with a view of the sword,
all saw, at least, the strange people who were pointed out as the
bearers of it from an unknown land, and the story of its powers was
readily accepted. But he who possessed it did not come as a conqueror,
and, as he showed no disposition to use it offensively, the weapon
ceased to be regarded with alarm.
And now we will return to Kalaunui and his army of conquest, last
seen on their way to Maui in a fleet of two thousand canoes. Sailing
to the western division of the island, which was reached in two days,
Kalaunui effected a landing of his army at Lahaina. Kamaluohua, the moi
of the island, had learned of the projected invasion some days before,
and made every preparation possible to meet and repel it. Lunapais,
or war-messengers, had been despatched to the several district chiefs,
and an army of seven or eight thousand warriors of all arms had been
hastily collected. Wakalana had gone to the general defence with a
force of eight hundred men, including Kaluiki, the Japanese captain,
upon whose presence great reliance was placed by the warriors of
Wailuku, if not by Wakalana himself.
Unable to land at Lahaina, which was in possession of the enemy,
Kamaluohua marched his forces across the mountains, and a sanguinary
battle was fought in the neighborhood of the village. But the Mauians,
greatly outnumbered, were defeated and driven back to the hills,
and their king was taken prisoner. Throughout the battle Kualu was
especially conspicuous for his might and courage. Armed with a huge
stone axe, everything human seemed to fall before him, and where he
led the bravest alone followed, for he sought the very heart of danger.
The conflict was drawing to a close. The moi, gallantly fighting,
had been taken prisoner, and his decimated battalions were steadily
giving way, when Kualu encountered a body of two or three hundred
men resolutely defending themselves behind a low stone wall. Several
ineffectual attempts to dislodge them had been made, and they were
sending forth shouts of victory and defiance. Something had inspired
them with unusual courage and confidence. Did Kualu divine what it
was? Perhaps he did, for, hastily rallying to his support a force of
sturdy warriors, he fought his way over the wall, and a determined
hand-to-hand struggle followed. Meantime a flanking party of spearsmen
had made a circuit around the wall and were menacing its defenders in
the rear. Observing the peril of the situation, and that an effort
was being made to cut off their retreat to the hills, the Mauians
began to fall back. As they did so Kualu was seen to dash forward
and precipitate himself, almost unsupported, upon a score or two of
warriors who had apparently rallied to the assistance of some chief in
distress. Regardless of danger, he hewed his way through the battling
throng until he stood face to face with Kaluiki, the white captain,
in whose hand was the shining blade which had so nerved the arms of
the warriors of Wailuku. With a blow of his battle-axe he struck the
sword from the upraised hand of the strange warrior. As it fell to
the earth he placed his foot upon it, and yielded no ground until the
tide of battle swept around and past him, forcing to retreat the last
to present a hostile front of the army of the captive king of Maui.
Left alone for a moment by the wild pursuit of the flying enemy,
Kualu hurriedly stooped and thrust the sword into the earth, pressing
it downward until the hilt was covered; then, placing a large rock
upon the spot, he left the field, numbering, as he went, his paces
to the wall behind which the Mauians had sought protection.
The victory was complete. The moi was a prisoner, and such of his army
as had not escaped to the hills lay dead on the field. The country was
given over to pillage, and at sunset twenty prisoners were slain and
sacrificed in a heiau near the village. The sacrifices were made to his
war-god, and Kalaunui witnessed the solemn ceremonies of the offering.
The night was spent in the wildest revelry by the victorious warriors,
in the midst of which Kualu sought his foster-mother, who, with the
women and non-combatants of the invading army, was encamped near the
canoes on the beach. He hastily recited to her the events of the day,
and concluded with the information that he had captured the long,
bright knife of the strange chief of Wailuku, and, believing it to
be of great value, had hidden it in the earth. At this intelligence
the eyes of Waahia flashed with satisfaction.
"You have done well," said the kaula, rising to her feet. "I have
seen that long knife in my dreams. It will have much to do with your
future. But it will be unsafe in your possession. Give it to me. Give
it to me at once," she repeated, "for should Kalaunui by any chance
learn that it was taken in battle, he will claim it."
"But I am sure no one saw me hide it," replied Kualu.
"You talk like a boy," returned Waahia. "You must be sure of nothing
of which there is a possibility of doubt. But no matter. It is not
too dark to find the spot to-night. Let us go to it at once."
Excited by her words, Kualu now became no less anxious than the kaula
that the sword should be placed in her keeping, and in an indirect way,
to avoid observation, they repaired to the battle-field. Their only
light was that of the stars, and after reaching the wall it was some
time before Kualu was able to identify the exact place to which he
had extended the line of his hasty measurement. The ground was strewn
with the naked bodies of the slain, and occasional groans came from
a few whose struggles with death were not quite over. But no emotion,
either of dread or pity, disturbed the visitors.
Satisfied at length that he had found the desired place in the wall,
Kualu took a careful bearing, and then stepped briskly toward the
north, closely followed by Waahia. Measuring a hundred paces or more,
he suddenly stopped, and with alarm discovered what seemed to be the
form of a man crouching beside the rock marking the spot where the
sword had been buried. Grasping his pahoa--the only weapon he had
brought with him--Kualu sprang forward and placed his hand upon the
object. It was cold and motionless; and the young warrior smiled as
the thought came to him that some one of the many who had fallen
under his axe that day had possibly crawled to the spot to guard
his treasure in death. He lifted the body aside, removed the stone,
and the next moment pulled from the earth and handed to Waahia the
iron blade. She grasped it eagerly, and, with a hasty glance at its
bright blade glistening in the starlight, wrapped it securely in a
piece of kapa and placed it under her mantle.
Without attracting especial notice they returned to the beach. When
importuned by Kualu to tell him something definite of his future,
Waahia revealed to him much that would happen; but all had not yet
been given to her, and she admonished him to keep his lips closed
and patiently await the development of the will of the gods. "I can
see victories to come," said the kaula, "but in the end defeat and
disaster."
"But if disaster is to come to us in the end," suggested Kualu,
"why should it not mean defeat and death to me?"
"I can give no reason why it should not; but the gods seldom explain
their acts to mortals, and I am content in seeing your star shining
above the ruin of Kalaunui."
So spoke the kaula, and, cheered by her words, Kualu sought his tent
of mats, and on a hard couch of kapa dreamed of a long, bright knife,
and of battles in which he hewed down armies with it.
Taking his royal captive with him, the second day after the battle
Kalaunui set sail with his army for the island of Molokai, of which
Kahokuohua was the alii-nui, or governing chief. No force adequate
to cope with the invading army could be rallied; but the chivalrous
descendant of the ancient kings of Hawaii was not a ruler to allow his
subjects to be plundered without resistance, and, hastily gathering an
army of four or five thousand warriors, he gave the invaders battle at
Kalaupapa. But he was defeated and taken prisoner, and after ravaging
the country for miles around, and destroying every captured canoe of
which he could make no use, Kalaunui sailed for the conquest of Oahu
with the two royal captives in his train.
Waahia still accompanied the expedition. But the iron knife was not
with her. The king had from some source learned that its glitter had
been seen on the battle-field at Lahaina, and she had hidden it in
a cleft of the black rocks of the pali encircling Kalaupapa.
As already stated, Oahu was at that time governed by a number of
practically independent chiefs. The most powerful of these, and
possibly recognized alii-nui of the island, was Huapouleilei, chief
of the Ewa and Waianae districts, to which division Kalaunui directed
his fleet. Landing his forces at Waianae, a sanguinary battle was
fought near that place, resulting in the defeat of the Oahuans and
the capture of Huapouleilei.
Elated with his successes, and deeming himself invincible, Kalaunui
next prepared for a descent upon Kauai and the conquest of the entire
group. But his plans for so formidable an undertaking were faulty. He
took no steps to consolidate his conquests or maintain possession
of the lands subdued by his arms. He left behind him no friend or
stronghold on the conquered islands, blindly trusting, no doubt, that
in the persons of his royal prisoners he retained, for the time being,
a sufficiently firm hold upon their lands and subjects.
Before embarking for Kauai elaborate sacrifices were offered, and every
device known to the priesthood was exhausted to secure a continuance of
the favor of the gods. The moi of that island was Kukona, the fourth
in descent from the great Laa-mai-kahiki. Kalaunui recognized that
the defensive resources of Kauai were not to be despised, but he as
greatly underrated the military abilities of Kukona as he overrated
his own, and therefore did not doubt the result.
Waahia saw disaster approaching, but knew that Kalaunui would not
listen to her voice of warning, and therefore remained silent when
the kilos, anxious to please the king, shaped their inauspicious
auguries into promises of victory. Her greatest solicitude was for
Kualu. He had been entrusted with an important command, and could find
no honorable pretext for declining to accept the hazard of the final
struggle on Kauai. Waahia, therefore, did not advise him to remain,
for she had seen his star shining above the clouds of defeat. She had
sought frequent and earnest counsel of the mysterious intelligences of
the earth and air. She had seen their answers in the smoke of burning
incense, and within the circle of blood at midnight, when the moon
was dark, had heard their whispers. Hence it was with confidence that
she said to Kualu, on the evening before the departure of the fleet
for Kauai:
"Yes, you must go. I can be of no service to you where the air will be
filled with spears and the canoes will be painted red with blood. I
will return to Hawaii. You will be defeated. Kukona is a brave and
skilful warrior, and the army of Kalaunui. will be rent in pieces and
thrown into the sea. The slaughter will be great, but circumstances
will open a way and you will escape."
"And should I escape, where will I find you?" inquired Kualu.
"Among the owls in the old hut in Waipio," replied the kaula.
"And the long knife?"
"The long knife is where I alone can find it," answered Waahia. "Leave
the secret to me; it will be of service to us yet."
Early next morning the army of Kalaunui set sail for Kauai, and with
it, as prisoners, the mois of Maui and Molokai and the alii-nui of
Oahu. At the same time Waahia embarked for Hawaii, taking with her the
war-god of the king. Traditions differ concerning the circumstances
under which the god was delivered to the prophetess. One asserts that
she refused to hold her peace or leave the expedition without it;
another that the king, annoyed by her ill-omened words and presence,
purchased her departure with it; and a third that it was given
to her in deference to her declaration that, if taken to Kauai,
it would not return except at the head of a conquering army that
would make a tributary kingdom of Hawaii. Certain it is, however,
that Waahia returned to Hawaii from Oahu with the war-god of the
king. It was the sacred Akuapaao, or war-god of Paao, and was held
in great reverence by the priesthood. Borne over the waters by unseen
forces, the canoe of Waahia was stranded on the beach at Koholalele,
on the island of Hawaii. Not far off was the old heiau of Manini,
and thither the god was conveyed, and placed in the custody of the
high-priest of the temple, with the injunction that it was never to be
removed from the inner court, or sanctuary, unless the kingdom was in
peril. Six generations after it was taken from the heiau by the giant
Maukaleoleo, and carried at the head of the victorious army of Umi,
as mentioned in the legend of "Umi, the Peasant Prince of Hawaii."
Five hundred canoes had been added to the fleet of Kalaunui, and the
imposing squadron seemed to stretch half across the wide channel
separating the two islands. A landing was made at Koloa, and the
entire army disembarked without opposition. The district seemed to
be deserted, and not a hostile spear was visible. And so continued
the peaceful aspect until daylight the next morning, when Kukona,
supported by every prominent chief of Kauai, suddenly precipitated
upon the invaders from the surrounding hills an army of ten thousand
warriors. Nor this alone. Along the westward coast was seen approaching
a fleet of nearly a thousand war-canoes, with the manifest design of
capturing or destroying the canoes of the Hawaiians and cutting off
their retreat by sea. Hastily forming his lines to meet the avalanche
from the hills, Kalaunui despatched Kualu to the beach with a force
of three thousand warriors to protect the canoes.
The attacks by land and sea were almost simultaneous, and the
battle was one of the most stubborn and sanguinary ever fought in
the group. As predicted by Waahia, the air was filled with spears
and the canoes were painted red with blood. Standing in the water to
their hips, Kualu and his warriors met their enemies as they attempted
to land, and a struggle of the wildest description followed. Canoes
were upset; men were hauled into them and killed, and out of them and
drowned, and for a distance of three or four hundred yards in the surf
along the beach raged a desperate conflict, dreadful even to savage
eyes. In their fury they fought in, above and under the water, and
hundreds fiercely grappled and without a wound sank to their deaths
together. Neither would yield, and in the end resistance ceased, and
Kualu saw the beach strewn with dead, a thousand tenantless canoes
idly playing with the surf, and less than as many hundreds of warriors
left as he had led thousands into the fight. He had saved the fleet,
but the sacrifice of life had been terrible.
Despatching a messenger to the king, and speedily reorganizing the
remnant of his force, Kualu was about to leave the beach for service
where he might most be needed, when he discovered, with horror, that
the Hawaiian army had been defeated, and in scattered fragments was
seeking flight in all directions. Harassed by pursuit, a thousand or
more were fighting and struggling to reach the beach. Satisfied that
the battle was lost, to facilitate the escape of the fugitives Kualu
ordered a large number of canoes to be hastily equipped and launched,
and then started back to assist in covering the retreat. But his men
refused to follow him. Knowing the danger of delay, all but a few
of them leaped into canoes and paddled out to sea. As he could do
nothing more, he selected a canoe suitable to the four persons who
were to occupy it, and with his three remaining companions passed
through the surf and headed for Oahu.
Kualu did not escape a moment too soon. He had scarcely stemmed the
surf before the fugitives, abandoning all defence, made a precipitate
dash for the canoes, closely followed by their pursuers. In their haste
they shoved out in canoes some of which were overburdened and others
but half-manned. A number of the former foundered in the surf, and
such of the latter as succeeded in passing the breakers were overtaken
by the canoes sent in pursuit. Nor did but few escape of the two or
three hundred who preceded Kualu in his flight. Some of them embarked
in double canoes which they were unable to manage, and others were
either without sails or short of paddles. The result was that less
than a hundred of the fugitives escaped capture, and of that number
probably not more than twenty or thirty succeeded in reaching the
other islands of the group, for the sea was rough and but few of them
were skilled in navigation. Among these were Kualu and his companions.
Almost from the beginning the sudden attack of Kukona from the hills
had been a slaughter. The withdrawal of three thousand spears for
the protection of his canoes had weakened the lines of Kalaunui at an
exposed point, and, breaking through them, the Kauaians so vigorously
followed up the advantage that no effort could save the Hawaiians from
defeat. They fought bravely and with desperation; but the breaking
of their lines had left them without any definite plan of action, and
defeat was inevitable. Kalaunui's courage was conspicuous, but after
an hour's hopeless struggle he saw his brave battalions melting to
the earth and giving way at all points. Recognizing that the battle
was lost, and that what was left of his army would soon be in wild
retreat, he attempted to cut his way through to the beach, but was
intercepted and taken prisoner. Learning his rank, he was taken by
his captors to Kukona, and a few minutes later the royal chiefs of
Maui, Molokai and Oahu, with their arms corded behind their backs,
appeared on the scene. Deserted by their guards, they had been found
in a hut not far from the beach and brought to the victorious moi.
It was a historic group, that meeting on the battle-field of Koloa
of the five principal sovereigns of the archipelago. Had Kukona been
ambitious the means were at his command to become the supreme head of
the island group; but he thought only of the future peace of Kauai,
and promptly dismissed from his mind all dreams of broader fields of
empire, well knowing that, were he able to seize the mastery of the
group, he could not hope to long maintain it.
Not a word of jeering or of triumph passed between Kalaunui and
the captive chiefs as they stood before Kukona, for the aha alii
of the period--the chiefs of accepted rank--commanded the respect,
not only of the untitled, but of each other, even in bondage and in
death. Kukona had met the alii-nui of Oahu in his own dominions some
years before, and recognized him at once, but the kings of Maui and
Molokai were strangers to him. Being informed of their rank and the
circumstances of their captivity, he ordered them to be liberated at
once, and with his own hands removed the cords from the arms of his
royal friend from Oahu.
The rescued princes were at once returned with befitting escorts to
their own possessions, but Kalaunui was retained as a prisoner of
war. But few of the invading army escaped. The victory was celebrated
with elaborate sacrifices and general rejoicing throughout the
island. The captured arms and canoes were divided among the assisting
chiefs, and peace reigned again on Kauai.
Kukona had secured the lasting friendship of the chiefs of Oahu,
Maui and Molokai, and therefore did not fear the retaliation of
Hawaii. But, as a guarantee of peace, he kept Kalaunui a prisoner,
rightly surmising that, if the ruling powers of Hawaii really valued
the life of the captive king, they would not imperil it by attempting
his release by force, and if they did not greatly value it he would
be left to his fate or the chances of peaceful negotiation.
III.
Escaping from Koloa, Kualu and his companions made sail for Hawaii,
stopping for supplies at such intermediate points as they deemed safe
on the coasts of Oahu, Molokai and Maui, and on the evening of the
sixth day arrived at Waipio. They were the first to bring to Hawaii the
news of the defeat of Kalaunui on Kauai, and when the people learned
that the army had been destroyed the land was filled with wailing.
Appearing at once before Kaheka and her son, Kualu recited to them
the story of the dreadful battle, but was unable to tell them
definitely of the fate of Kalaunui. The grief of the queen was
great, and found strange and unreasonable expression in charging
Kualu with cowardice and ordering him from the palace. In vain he
protested against the ungenerous treatment. She had never liked him,
especially since discovering that he had secured something more than
the good-will of Kapapa, and it seemed monstrous to her that he should
have survived Kalaunui and the scores of gallant chiefs who fell with
him. She cruelly intimated that it was more than probable that, with
the force sent to protect the fleet, he had embarked in the canoes
without striking a blow, thus treacherously depriving the defeated
army of its sole means of escape.
Had these monstrous charges been made by a man Kualu would
have answered them with blows; but, as they were the foolish and
inconsiderate ravings of a woman, without venturing further reply he
took his leave, and with a heart filled with stifled rage and anguish
strode from the palace.
Proceeding up the valley, Kualu entered the hut of Waahia. He found
the kaula alone, as usual. She knew he was coming, but was none the
less rejoiced to meet him. With a word or two of greeting he sat down
in silence. The cruel words of Kaheka still stuck like thorns in his
throat. Waahia regarded him intently for a time, and then said:
"I know it all. Kalaunui's army has been destroyed. You escaped in
a canoe with three others."
"And Kalaunui?" questioned Kualu, not a little amazed at the
correctness of her information.
"Is a prisoner," replied the kaula.
"Thank the gods for that!" exclaimed the chief vehemently. "He must
be liberated, for he can tell her that in escaping I acted neither
with cowardice nor treachery!"
"Tell whom?" inquired the kaula.
"Kaheka," answered Kualu. "She charges me with cowardice and
desertion."
"Then Kaheka accuses you of what I know to be false!" said Waahia.
"Yes," returned the chief; "but the witnesses to my fidelity are
few and humble, and the words of the king can alone relieve me in
the eyes of the aha alii of the disgrace with which the charges of
Kaheka will cover me."
"True," replied the kaula, encouragingly; "but the disgrace will not
be lasting, for the king will return to do you justice."
"When will he return?" eagerly inquired the chief.
"I cannot tell," answered Waahia; "but I know that his rule is not
yet at an end in Hawaii, and you must be patient."
And Kualu promised to be patient, and for a few days bore the neglect
and frowns of his former friends, and the sneers and covert insults
of his enemies. But when the heartless accusations of Kaheka, passing
from tongue to tongue with the news of the dreadful slaughter, became
generally known, and almost as generally believed, notwithstanding the
statements of his three companions to the contrary, Kualu's indignation
could no longer be restrained, and he challenged to combat and slew
on the spot a chief who, in the presence of a party of friends,
repeated the charges to his face. Great excitement followed, and in
his desperation and wrath Kualu invited the friends of his fallen
defamer, one and all, to test his courage then or thereafter.
As the life of Kualu was now in constant and undoubted peril, Waahia
advised him to leave Hawaii for a time, and together they set sail for
Molokai, and took up their residence at Kalaupapa. But before leaving
Waipio the kaula called upon the high-priest, by whom she was held
in great respect, and told him where she might be found on Molokai,
should her services be required.
"And they will be required," said Waahia, significantly. "Kalaunui
is not dead, and when you shall have failed in all your efforts to
liberate him, tell Kaheka to think better of Kualu and send for me."
"How know you that Kalaunui still lives?" inquired the priest.
"Should the high-priest of Pakaalani ask me that question?" replied
Waahia. "Where are his seers? Where are the kilos of the temple, who
in the heavens saw victory for Kalaunui where I beheld defeat? Have
they not been consulted?"
"All do not see with the eyes of Waahia," returned the priest,
evasively.
Flattered by this recognition of her superiority, the kaula said,
as she turned to depart: "You will know more to-morrow!" And an hour
after, accompanied by Kualu, she left Waipio for Molokai.
The priest was not deceived by Waahia, for the day after authentic
intelligence was received from Maui to the effect that Kalaunui's
campaign had been a failure in Kauai, and the king was a prisoner
in the hands of Kukona. The leading chiefs were called together in
council, and several projects for the liberation of the king were
advanced and discussed. Kaheka was in favor of raising a powerful
army at once, and bringing her royal husband back by force; but when
it was considered by cooler heads that Kukona was undoubtedly well
prepared for war, and had secured the friendship, and in an emergency
could command the support, of the chiefs of Maui, Oahu and Molokai,
the suggestion was dismissed as dangerous and impracticable.
Under the circumstances it was finally resolved to attempt the
liberation of Kalaunui through negotiation; and to this end messengers
were despatched to Kauai with offers of a large number of canoes,
spears and other war materials in exchange for the royal prisoner. But
the surrender of Kalaunui's fleet, and the capture of thousands of
spears and other arms, had given Kukona a great abundance of both,
and he declined the offer.
Failing in this, after a lapse of some months messengers were again
sent to Kukona with a proffer of twenty full-sized mamos, or royal
feather cloaks, a canoe-load of ivory and whalebone, and a thousand
stone lipis, or axes, of a superior kind peculiar to Hawaii. The
messengers were courteously received and listened to, but the offer
was not accepted.
War was again urged by Kaheka, but the chiefs refused to embark in
an undertaking so hazardous, and without their support she could do
nothing. And so for more than two years Kalaunui remained in captivity,
when a third attempt to ransom him was made. Kaheka despatched to
Kauai two ambassadors of high rank, offering her daughter Kapapa in
marriage either to Kukona or his son, Manokalanipo, and promising
perpetual peace between the islands. This offer was also declined,
and Kukona refused to name to the ambassadors the terms upon which
he would treat for the liberation of their king.
It now became a question either of war or the abandonment of
Kalaunui to his fate. In this dilemma the priests and kaulas were
consulted, but their predictions were vague and their counsels
unsatisfactory. Remembering the words of Waahia, the high-priest
sought the presence of Kaheka, and advised her to send for the old
prophetess, who was living with her foster-son at Kalaupapa. This,
after some persuasion, she consented to do, and, despatching a chief
of high rank to Molokai, with the admission that she had accused
Kualu unjustly, the kaula was induced to return with the messenger to
Waipio. But Kualu did not accompany her. She was suspicious of Kaheka,
and advised him to remain at Kalaupapa.
Arriving at Waipio, the kaula, feeling that the game was now in her
own hands, informed the high-priest that she would communicate with
the leading chiefs of the kingdom convened in council. The chiefs
were accordingly assembled, and Waahia appeared before them. Kaheka
was present, as the kaula desired.
With a staff in her hand, capped with the head of an owl, and her
long, white hair falling to her waist, there was something weird
and awe-inspiring in the appearance of the venerable prophetess
as she entered the council-room and bowed low before Kaheka and the
assembled chiefs. It was not her privilege to break the silence without
permission, and when it had been formally accorded she raised her eyes,
and, without especially addressing any one, said:
"Why have I been sent for?"
No one could answer, not even Kaheka.
At length an old chief, after conferring with those around him,
replied:
"You have been sent for on the word of the high-priest, and with
the hope that you might be able to point out a way for the return of
Kalaunui to Hawaii. Can you do so?"
"I can speak of no way," answered the kaula.
"Then you can do nothing?" returned the chief.
"My words were that I could speak of no way, nor can I," said the
kaula; "yet, keeping my own counsel, I might possibly be able to
accomplish what you all desire."
"And will you undertake to do so?" inquired Kaheka.
"Yes, on one condition," was the prompt reply.
"Well, what do you ask for attempting to save the life of your
king?" returned the queen, in a tone of rebuke.
Waahia did not like the spirit of the inquiry, and a scowl darkened
her wrinkled face as she replied:
"I might ask that, if the gods willed that I should fail, Kaheka
would not charge me with treachery!"
This reference to the treatment of Kualu created a feeling of
uneasiness among the chiefs; but, without inviting remark or
explanation, the kaula continued:
"What I require is a pledge from every chief here that, should I
succeed in liberating Kalaunui, the terms of the release, whatever
they may be, will be complied with."
The chiefs hesitated, as it was not impossible that the sovereignty
of the island might be offered to Kukona by the prophetess, and
they could not pledge themselves to a sacrifice involving their own
ruin. Waahia relieved their apprehensions, however, by assuring them
that the pledge would not be considered binding if the terms affected
either the sovereignty of the island or the lives, possessions or
prerogatives of its chiefs. With this assurance the members of the
council, after briefly discussing the possibilities of the obligation,
consented to accept it. Thereupon the pledge was carefully repeated
thrice by the chiefs, and each in turn solemnly invoked upon himself,
should he fail to keep and observe it in its fulness, the wrath of
Hikapoloa, the divine trinity, and the swift and especial vengeance
of Kuahana, the slayer of men.
"Are you satisfied now?" inquired Kaheka.
"I am satisfied," replied the kaula.
"Do you require assistance?" This inquiry came from more than one.
"Only of the gods!" was the impressive answer of Waahia, as she left
the council and slowly wended her way up the valley.
All night long strange lights flashed at intervals through the
weather-rent openings in the kaula's hut. Shadowy forms were seen
to move noiselessly around it; owls came and went as the lights
vanished and reappeared; and, just as the sun began to paint the east,
Waahia proceeded to the beach, and with a single sturdy assistant of
supernatural aspect embarked in a canoe which seemed to be equipped and
provisioned for a long voyage. This was the ghostly narration of two or
three of the nearest neighbors of the prophetess, and the truth of the
story was not doubted, even when it reached the palace. Doubtless the
plain facts were that Waahia spent the most of the night in preparing
for the voyage, and set sail early in the morning with an assistant
known to be trustworthy and familiar with the sea.
Waahia proceeded very leisurely to Kauai. The annual feast of Lono was
approaching, and as she desired to arrive there during the festival,
which would not be for some days, she spent the intervening time
in visiting many sacred spots and noted temples on Maui, Oahu,
Molokai and Lanai. Perhaps to commune with the honored dead, she
made a pilgrimage to the sacred valley of Iao, on the island of Maui,
where were buried many of the distinguished kings and chiefs of the
group. She stopped at Kalaupapa, on Molokai, to confer with Kualu,
and while there paid a visit to the home, near Kaluakoi, of Laamaomao,
the wind-god, who came from the south with Moikeha more than a century
before; and in the same valley visited the dreaded spot where, in the
reign of Kamauaua, the father of Kaupeepee, the abductor of Hina,
near the close of the eleventh century, sprang up in a night the
poisoned grove of Kalaipahoa, or, according to another tradition,
where that goddess, belonging to a family of southern deities, visited
the group with two of her sisters, and entered and poisoned a small
grove of trees of natural growth.
From one of these poisonous trees the famous idol of Kalaipahoa was
made. So poisonous was the wood that many died in cutting down the
tree and carving the image, for all perished whose flesh was touched
by the chips; but the workmen finally covered their bodies with kapa,
including masks for their faces and wraps for their hands, and thus
succeeded in completing the dangerous task without farther loss of
life. But a single image was made. It remained with the ruling family
of Molokai until the subjugation of the group by Kamehameha I., when
it came into his possession, and at his death, in 1819, was divided
among a few of the principal chiefs. Two fragments of the image,
it is said, are still preserved, but they are carefully guarded and
never exhibited to eyes sceptical or profane. Long before Waahia
visited the spot the last vestige of the grove had disappeared, but
for many acres around where the terrible trees once stood the earth
was black and bare. Within the dreaded area no living thing was seen,
and birds fell dead in flying over it. But the kaula entered it and
returned unharmed, to the amazement of more than one witness.
Waahia next visited the heiau of Kaumolu, which was then a puhonua,
or place of refuge, and in another temple near the coast offered
sacrifices to the shark-god Mooalii. By reputation she was generally
known to the priesthood of the group, and was nowhere regarded as an
intruder in places sacred to worship.
Stopping at Ewa, on the island of Oahu, she saw for the first time
the hallowed enclosure of Kukaniloko, the creation of Nanakaoko,
son of Nanamaoa, the earliest arrival from the south of the migratory
stream of the eleventh century. Chiefs born there were endowed with
especial prerogatives and distinctions, and the beating of a sacred
drum called hawea gave notice without of the birth of a tabu chief.
IV.
The winter solstice, which marked the end of the Hawaiian year, was
at hand, to be followed by the usual five days' feast of Lono, and
Waahia so timed her voyage as to arrive on Kauai the day before the
festival began. She quietly landed at Koloa, and as far as possible
avoided observation by taking up her residence in a small hut secured
by her companion well back in the neighboring hills.
These annual festivals of Lono were seasons of universal merriment and
rejoicing. The god was crowned and ornamented with leis of flowers and
feathers, and unstinted offerings of pigs, fowls and fruits were laid
upon the altars of the temples consecrated to his worship. Chiefs and
people alike gave themselves unreservedly over to feasting, dancing,
singing and the indulgence of almost every appetite and caprice, and
the Saturnalias of the old Romans gave to the masses scarcely more
license than the festivals of Lono. Every instrument of music known
to the people--and they possessed but four or five of the simplest
kinds--was brought into requisition, and for five days there was
almost an uninterrupted tumult of revelry. Lakakane, the hula god,
was decorated and brought out, and every variety of the dance was
given--some of them to the time of vocal recitations and others to
the noisier accompaniment of pipes, drums and rattling calabashes. In
the midst of these enjoyments long-bearded bards appeared before the
king and distinguished chiefs, and while some of them recited wild
historic tales of the past, others chanted the mele-inoas and sang
of the personal exploits of their titled listeners. Awa and other
intoxicating drinks were freely indulged in by those who craved them,
and the festivals were usually followed by a week or more of general
languor and worthlessness.
It was the third day of the festival at Koloa. The gates of the
enclosure had been thrown open, and thousands of people thronged
around the royal mansion in a grove near which large quantities
of refreshments were spread on the ground in huge wooden trays and
calabashes. The feast was free to all, and Kukona lounged on a pile of
kapa in the deep shade of the trees in front of the palace, happy in
witnessing the enjoyment of his subjects. Around him were standing
a number of chiefs of high rank. A kahili of bright feathers was
occasionally and unobtrusively waved above his head by the paakahili,
and the iwikuamoo, aipuupuu and other of his personal attendants,
all of the lesser nobility, stood in readiness to respond to his
slightest wishes. A guard of inferior chiefs kept the crowd from
pressing too closely the distinguished group, but from time to time,
as permission was granted, select bands of dancers and musicians and
chanters of ability were allowed to approach and entertain the royal
party with specimens of their skill and erudition.
A company of dancers had just retired, when Waahia, with a staff in
her hand, and wearing a short mantle, indicating that she claimed
privileges of dress which were not accorded to women generally, asked
permission to be admitted to the presence of the king. Her strange
appearance excited the curiosity of Kukona, and she was allowed
to approach. Kneeling and touching her forehead to the ground, she
rose and asked if it was the pleasure of the king to hear her. As
these ceremonies, due to supreme authority, were usually waived on
such occasions, it was surmised that the woman must be a stranger
in Kauai. She was told to speak. A moooelo, or historic chant, was
expected; but in a full, sharp voice she chanted these words:
"O the long knife of the stranger,
Of the stranger from other lands,
Of the stranger with sparkling eyes,
Of the stranger with a white face!
O long knife of Lono, the gift of Lono;
It flashes like fire in the sun;
Its edge is sharper than stone,
Sharper than the hard stone of Hualalai;
The spear touches it and breaks,
The strong warrior sees it and dies!
Where is the long knife of the stranger?
Where is the sacred gift of Lono?
It came to Wailuku and is lost,
It was seen at Lahaina and cannot be found.
He is more than a chief who finds it,
He is a chief of chiefs who possesses it.
Maui cannot spoil his fields,
Hawaii cannot break his nets;
His canoes are safe from Kauai;
The chiefs of Oahu will not oppose him,
The chiefs of Molokai will bend at his feet.
O long knife of the stranger,
O bright knife of Lono!
Who has seen it? Who has found it?
Has it been hidden away in the earth?
Has the great sea swallowed it?
Does the kilo see it among the stars?
Can the kaula find it in the bowels of the black hog?
Will a voice from the anu answer?
Will the priests of Lono speak?
The kilo is silent, the kaula is dumb.
O long knife of the stranger,
O bright knife of Lono,
It is lost, it is lost, it is lost!"
At the conclusion of the chant, which was listened to with attention,
the kaula bowed and disappeared in the crowd. Kukona had heard of
the long knife, and Waahia's description of its powers interested him
greatly. He despatched a messenger to the high-priest, ordering that
the diviners at once be put to the task of discovering the hiding-place
of the sacred weapon.
On the following afternoon Waahia appeared before the king and his
chiefs, and with the same ceremonies repeated her chant of the day
before. The high-priest was summoned, and informed the king that his
diviners had as yet discovered no trace of the long knife.
The third day Waahia appeared and repeated her chant before the king,
and silently withdrew, as before. Again the high-priest was summoned,
but was able to offer no assurance that the long knife would be found
by the kahunas. They had resorted to every means of inspiration and
magic known to them, but could discover no clue to the mystery.
"Who is this woman who for three successive days has told us of the
lost knife?" inquired Kukona, addressing the chiefs surrounding him.
No one seemed to be able to answer. Finally the master of ceremonies
stepped forward and replied:
"The woman, I think, is Waahia, the noted prophetess of Hawaii. I saw
her fifteen years ago in Waipio, and am quite sure that I remember
her face."
The name, if not the face, of the distinguished seeress was known
to the king and many others present, and the high-priest, anxious to
explain the failure of his magicians, bowed and said:
"The master of ceremonies has doubtless spoken truly. The woman must
be Waahia. Her powers are great, and a secret in her keeping is beyond
the reach of the kaulas."
Accepting this explanation of the high-priest, Kukona ordered the
prophetess to be found and respectfully conducted to the royal mansion;
but after a fruitless search of two days it was reported that she
had probably left the valley, and therefore could not be found.
Irritated at what seemed to be the inefficiency or neglect of his
kaulas and chiefs, Kukona was about to attach a death-penalty to
further failure when Waahia suddenly entered the royal enclosure and
approached the palace. Her appearance was most welcome to the attending
chiefs, and she was ushered at once into the presence of the king. So
delighted was Kukona at the unexpected visit that he rose unconsciously
to his feet and greeted the prophetess. This breach of courtly form
amazed the attendants of the king, and suggested to them that the
strange visitor must be of supreme rank; but before any explanation
could be gathered they were ordered to retire, even to the paakahili,
and Kukona was left alone with the kaula.
The king motioned his visitor to a lounge of kapa, for she seemed
to be old and feeble, and he had a favor to ask. Seating herself,
as requested, the king approached, and, in a voice that could not
well be overheard, said:
"Are you Waahia, the prophetess of Hawaii?"
"I am Waahia," answered the kaula.
"You have chanted of the long knife of the stranger, of the bright
knife of Lono, of the lost knife of Wailuku," resumed Kukona. "Our
diviners can give me no information concerning it."
Waahia smiled significantly, but made no reply, and the king continued:
"They say you have tabued the secret, and others, therefore, cannot
share it. Is it so?"
"Perhaps," was the brief reply.
"Then you can find the sacred knife?" eagerly suggested Kukona.
"I can find it," was the kaula's emphatic answer.
"Then find and bring it to Kukona, and for the service claim what
you will," was the prompt proposal of the king.
With the way thus broadly opened, Waahia announced that the price of
the knife must be the liberation of Kalaunui, and was astonished at
the promptness with which the terms were accepted. It was manifest
to Waahia that he either placed a very high value upon the talisman,
or had kept his royal prisoner about as long as he cared to detain him
or the peace of his kingdom required. In either event his unhesitating
acceptance of the main consideration warranted Waahia in at once naming
one or two other conditions, which were just as promptly agreed to
by the king. One of these conditions was that Kalaunui should agree,
as the only consideration for his release to be known to him, that
his daughter Kapapa should be given in marriage to the chief Kualu,
not only as a fitting union, but as a measure of atonement for the
unjust and disgraceful charges made against that worthy young chief by
Kaheka, and that Kukona and Kalaunui should mutually pledge themselves
to the fulfilment of the compact. The other condition was that, on the
delivery of the knife to Kukona, he was to release the captive king
at once, and return him to Hawaii in company with three high chiefs
of Kauai, who were to remain in Waipio until after the consummation
of the marriage of Kapapa and Kualu.
Kalaunui was communicated with. For nearly three years he had been
confined and closely but respectfully guarded within a square of
high stone walls enclosing a single hut. Utterly unable to account
for Kukona's interest in Kualu, he nevertheless accepted the terms
submitted to him for his release, and Waahia started at once for
Kalaupapa, promising to be back within six days. For the voyage she
accepted a canoe larger and more commodious than her own, and the
services of five additional rowers.
Arriving at Kalaupapa on the morning of the third day from Koloa,
Waahia startled Kualu by informing him that Kalaunui was about to
be released, and that in twelve days he must return without further
notice to Waipio, where he would be relieved of all disgrace by
the king, and become the husband of Kapapa. Coming from Waahia, he
believed the words as if they had been flashed from the heavens,
and asked for no confirmation as the kaula abruptly left him and
proceeded alone toward the hills.
A few hours later Waahia re-embarked for Kauai, taking with her,
securely wrapped in a number of kapa folds, the sword of Kaluiki. She
reached Koloa within the time promised, and, proceeding to the palace,
delivered to the king, in person and alone, the glittering blade
which rumor had clothed with extraordinary sanctity and power.
Kalaunui renewed his pledge to Kukona, and the next morning embarked
for Hawaii in a large double canoe, accompanied by three of the leading
chiefs of Kauai and their attendants. Stepping into the kaulua as it
was about to be shoved into the surf, Kalaunui caught sight of Waahia,
for the first time for years, as she stood leaning upon her staff near
the water. Kualu's part in the agreement with Kukona was explained at
once by Waahia's presence in Koloa; but what was Kualu to Kukona? and,
if nothing, what influences had the kaula been able to bring to effect
his release upon such conditions? No matter. Kalaunui was too happy
in his liberation to quarrel with the means through which it had been
secured, and he turned with a look of gratitude toward the prophetess
as the canoe shot out into the breakers.
The return of their captive king was joyously celebrated by the people
of Hawaii, and a few days after Kapapa became the willing wife of
Kualu. The union was distasteful to Kaheka, but she was powerless
to prevent it. The agreement was faithfully fulfilled by Kalaunui,
and he spent the remainder of his days in peace, leaving the kingdom
to his only son, Kuaiwa, between whom and Kualu a lasting friendship
was established.
Kualu, with Kapapa, became the head of an influential family, one of
his direct descendants having been the wife of Makaoku, a son of Kiha
and brother of Liloa, one of the most noted of the kings of Hawaii.
The sword of Kaluiki, the ransom of a king, remained for some
generations with the descendants of Kukona; but what became of it in
the end tradition fails to tell.
THE SACRED SPEAR-POINT.
CHARACTERS.
Kakae and
Kakaalaneo, joint mois of Maui.
Kahekili, son of Kakae.
Kaululaau, son of Kakaalaneo.
Waolani, a high-priest of Maui.
Kalona-iki, king of Oahu.
Laiea-a-Ewa, sister of the queen of Oahu.
Kamakaua, a companion of Kaululaau.
Kauholanui-mahu, king of Hawaii.
Neula, queen of Hawaii.
Noakua, a chief of Kohala, Hawaii.
Pele, goddess of Kilauea.
Keuakepo, brother of Pele.
Mooaleo, a gnome-god of Molokai.
Pueoalii, a winged demon of Oahu.
THE SACRED SPEAR-POINT.
THE ADVENTURES OF KAULULAAU, PRINCE OF MAUI.
I.
Kaululaau was one of the sons of Kakaalaneo, brother of, and
joint ruler with, Kakae in the government of Maui. The latter was
the legitimate heir to the moiship, but, as he was weak-minded,
Kakaalaneo ruled jointly with him and was the real sovereign of the
little kingdom. The court of the brothers was at Lele (now Lahaina),
and was one of the most distinguished in the group.
The mother of Kaululaau was Kanikaniaula, of the family of Kamauaua,
king of Molokai, through his son Haili, who was the brother or
half-brother of Keoloewa and Kaupeepee. The latter, it will be
remembered, was the abductor of the celebrated Hina, of Hawaii,
and the family was of the old strain of Maweke.
Kaululaau was probably born somewhere between the years 1390 and
1400. He had a half-sister, whose name was Wao, and a half-brother,
Kaihiwalua, who was the father of Luaia, who became the husband
of a daughter of Piliwale, moi of Oahu, and brother of Lo-Lale. He
doubtless had other brothers and sisters, since his father was blessed
with two or more wives, but the legends fail to refer to them.
Kahekili, son of Kakae, and who became his successor in the moiship,
was of near the age of his cousin, Kaululaau, and the two princes
grew to manhood together. They were instructed by the same teachers,
schooled in the same arts and chiefly accomplishments, and chanted the
same genealogical meles. Yet in disposition and personal appearance
they were widely different.
From his youth Kahekili was staid, sober and thoughtful. Bred to the
knowledge that he would succeed his father as moi of the island,
he began early in life to prepare himself for the proper exercise
of supreme authority, and at the age of twenty was noted for his
intelligence, dignity and royal bearing. He had been told by a prophet
that one of his name would be the last independent king of Maui, and
the information rendered him solicitous for his future and drove many a
smile from his lips. Yet, with all his austerity and circumspection,
he was kind-hearted and affectionate, and his pastimes were such
as comported with his dignity. In height he was somewhat below the
chiefly medium, and his features were rugged and of a Papuan cast;
but all knew that he was royal in heart and thought, and the respect
due to him was not withheld.
Kaululaau was unlike his royal cousin in almost every respect. He was
noted alike for his intelligence, his manly beauty and his rollicking
spirit of mischief and merriment. He did not covet the sceptre. He
thought more of a wild debauch, with music, dancing and a calabash of
awa, than the right to command "downward" or "upward the face"; and
since Kahekili was the designated successor of his father, he claimed
the right, as a favored and tabu subject of the realm, to enjoy himself
in such manner as best accorded with his tastes. As he could not make
laws, he found a pleasure in breaking them. He was neither wantonly
cruel nor malignant, but recklessly wild and mischievous, and neither
the reproofs of his father nor the mild persuasions of his cousin were
sufficient to restrain him. His bantering reply to the latter was:
"When you become king I will act with more propriety. Two mois can
afford one wild prince."
He had a congenial following of companions and retainers, who assisted
him in his schemes of mischief. With feasting and hula dancing he would
keep the village in an uproar for a dozen consecutive nights. He would
send canoes adrift, open the gates of fish-ponds, remove the supports
of houses, and paint swine black to deceive the sacrificial priests. He
devised an instrument to imitate the death-warning notes of the alae,
and frightened people by sounding it near their doors; and to others he
caused information to be conveyed that they were being prayed to death.
Notwithstanding these misdemeanors, Kaululaau was popular with the
people, since the chiefs or members of the royal household were
usually the victims of his mischievous freaks. He was encouraged
in his disposition to qualify himself for the priesthood, under the
instruction of the eminent high-priest and prophet, Waolani, and had
made substantial advances in the calling, when he was banished to
the island of Lanai by his royal father for an offence which could
neither be overlooked nor forgiven.
At that time Lanai was infested with a number of gnomes, monsters
and evil spirits, among them the gigantic moo, Mooaleo. They ravaged
fields, uprooted cocoanut-trees, destroyed the walls of fish-ponds,
and otherwise frightened and discomfited the inhabitants of the
island. That his residence there might be made endurable, Kaululaau was
instructed by the kaulas and sorcerers of the court in many charms,
spells, prayers and incantations with which to resist the powers of
the supernatural monsters. When informed of these exorcising agencies
by Kaululaau, his friend, the venerable high-priest, Waolani, told
him that they would avail him nothing against the more powerful and
malignant of the demons of Lanai.
Disheartened at the declaration, Kaululaau was about to leave the heiau
to embark for Lanai, when Waolani, after some hesitation, stayed his
departure, and, entering the inner temple, soon returned with a small
roll of kapa in his hand. Slowly uncording and removing many folds
of cloth, an ivory spear-point a span in length was finally brought
to view. Holding it before the prince, he said:
"Take this. It will serve you in any way you may require. Its powers
are greater than those of any god inhabiting the earth. It has been
dipped in the waters of Po, and many generations ago was left by
Lono upon one of his altars for the protection of a temple menaced
by a mighty fish-god who found a retreat beneath it in a great cavern
connected with the sea. Draw a line with it and nothing can pass the
mark. Affix it to a spear and throw it, and it will reach the object,
no matter how far distant. Much more will it do, but let what I have
said suffice."
The prince eagerly reached to possess the treasure, but the priest
withdrew it and continued:
"I give it to you on condition that it pass from you to no other
hands than mine, and that if I am no longer living when you return
to Maui--as you some day will--you will secretly deposit it with my
bones. Swear to this in the name of Lono."
Kaululaau solemnly pronounced the required oath. The priest then handed
him the talisman, wrapped in the kapa from which it had been taken,
and he left the temple, and immediately embarked with a number of
his attendants for Lanai.
Reaching Lanai, he established his household on the south side of
the island. Learning his name and rank, the people treated him with
great respect--for Lanai was then a dependency of Maui--assisted in
the construction of the houses necessary for his accommodation, and
provided him with fish, poi, fruits and potatoes in great abundance. In
return for this devotion he set about ridding the island of the
supernatural pests with which it had been for years afflicted.
In the legend of "Kelea, the Surf-rider of Maui," will be found
some reference to the battles of Kaululaau with the evil spirits and
monsters of Lanai. His most stubborn conflict was with the gnome god
Mooaleo. He imprisoned the demon within the earth by drawing a line
around him with the sacred spear-point, and subsequently released
and drove him into the sea.
More than a year was spent by Kaululaau in quieting and expelling
from the island the malicious monsters that troubled it, but he
succeeded in the end in completely relieving the people from their
vexatious visitations. This added immeasurably to his popularity,
and the choicest of the products of land and sea were laid at his feet.
His triumph over the demons of Lanai was soon known on the other
islands of the group, and when it reached the ears of Kakaalaneo
he despatched a messenger to his son, offering his forgiveness and
recalling him from exile. The service he had rendered was important,
and his royal father was anxious to recognize it by restoring him
to favor.
But Kaululaau showed no haste in availing himself of his father's
magnanimity. Far from the restraints of the court, he had become
attached to the independent life he had found in exile, and could
think of no comforts or enjoyments unattainable on Lanai. The women
there were as handsome as elsewhere, the bananas were as sweet, the
cocoanuts were as large, the awa was as stimulating, and the fisheries
were as varied and abundant in product. He had congenial companionship,
and bands of musicians and dancers at his call. The best of the earth
and the love of the people were his, and the apapani sang in the
grove that shaded his door. What more could he ask, what more expect
should he return to Maui? His exile had ceased to be a punishment,
and his father's message of recall was scarcely deemed a favor.
However, Kaululaau returned a respectful answer by his father's
messenger, thanking Kakaalaneo for his clemency, and announcing that
he would return to Maui some time in the near future, after having
visited some of the other islands of the group; and three months later
he began to prepare for a trip to Hawaii. He procured a large double
canoe, which he painted a royal yellow, and had fabricated a number
of cloaks and capes of the feathers of the oo and mamo. At the prow
of his canoe he mounted a carved image of Lono, and at the top of one
of the masts a place was reserved for the proud tabu standard of an
aha alii. This done, with a proper retinue he set sail for Hawaii.
II.
On his visit to Hawaii, Kaululaau was accompanied by a number of
companions of his own disposition and temperament. Among them was
Kamakaua, a young Maui chief, who had followed him into exile and
was thoroughly devoted to his interests. He was brave, courtly
and intelligent, and in personal appearance somewhat resembled the
prince. The crew and most of the attendants of the prince had been
selected by Kamakaua, including the chief navigator and astrologer;
and however competent they may have been in their respective stations,
it was discovered during the voyage that they were no less efficient
as musicians and dancers. Hence there was no lack of amusement as
the huge double canoe breasted the waves of Alenuihaha Channel,
and on the morning of the third day stood off the village of Waipio,
in the district of Hamakua, Hawaii.
At that time Kauholanui-mahu, father of the noted Kiha, was king of
Hawaii. His wife was Neula, a chiefess of Maui, who had inherited
very considerable possessions in the neighborhood of Honuaula,
on that island. As the climate of the locality was salubrious,
and the neighboring waters abounded abundantly in fish, the royal
couple made frequent and sometimes lengthy visits thither. These
visits were usually made without the knowledge of Kakaalaneo, and the
unexplained attachment of the Hawaiian king to the comparatively small
inheritance of his wife on a neighboring island began to be regarded
with suspicion, and had become a theme for speculation and inquiry
at the court of Lahaina.
At the time of the visit of Kaululaau to Waipio, Kauholanui had
been absent for some months on Maui, leaving Neula in charge of the
government of Hawaii. Attributing the absence of the king to deliberate
neglect, Neula had become greatly dissatisfied, and whispers of coming
trouble were rife throughout the island. All this was doubtless known
to Kaululaau, and, as the royal residence was at Waipio, it was upon
the beach below it that he landed with his party and drew up his
double canoe.
The presence and state of the strangers were soon heralded to the
queen, and she promptly despatched messengers, courteously inviting
the prince and his personal retainers to become her guests at the
royal hale, at the same time giving orders for the accommodation of
the humbler of his attendants and followers, as was the hospitable
custom of the time.
Accepting the invitation, Kaululaau and four of his chiefly companions
were provided with quarters within the palace enclosure, and their
food was served from the royal table. In the afternoon Kaululaau was
accorded an audience with the queen, during which he presented his
friends, including Kamakaua.
The prince whiled away nearly a month at Waipio, and many formal
entertainments were given in his honor. Neula was unusually agreeable,
and was soon on terms of friendly intimacy both with the prince and
Kamakaua. This was exactly what Kaululaau desired, since it enabled
him to devise and assist in the execution of a scheme for bringing the
king back from Maui and keeping him thereafter within his own kingdom.
Under the instructions of Kaululaau, Kamakaua assumed to be greatly
smitten with the charms of the queen. As she was a comely woman, and
somewhat vain of her personal appearance, the conquest of the handsome
chief gratified her; but his attentions developed the fact that he
had a rival in Noakua, a chief of Kohala. This discovery simplified
the plans of the prince, and relieved Kamakaua of a dangerous duty
in the end. In pressing his suit he found a pretext for informing
the queen that the continued absence of the king was due to the fact
that he had taken another wife, with whom he was living at Honuaula,
and that he had ceased to care either for his kingdom or his family.
While Kamakaua was pouring this poison into the ears of Neula,
Kaululaau, who had made the acquaintance of Noakua, was planting
in the mind of that chief the seeds of sedition. He flattered him
with the opinion that he was made to rule, and by degrees developed
to him a plan through which, with the favor of the queen, he could
seize the government, unite the principal chiefs in his support,
and prevent Kauholanui from returning to Hawaii.
The ambition of Noakua, and anger of the queen at the presumed neglect
and infidelity of her husband, soon harmonized them in a plot against
the absent king. Preparations for the revolt began to be observed,
when Kaululaau, not wishing to be openly identified with the dangerous
movement, quietly embarked with his party for Hilo, where he remained
to watch the progress of the struggle which he had been instrumental
in originating.
The prince had been in Hilo but a few days when a lunapai arrived
from Waipio, summoning the chief of the district to repair thither
with eight hundred warriors, and announcing the assumption of the
sovereignty of the island by Neula. Similar notifications were sent
to the chiefs of the other districts of the kingdom, and soon all
was excitement from Kau to Kohala.
Hearing of the revolt, Kauholanui, who had been engaged in constructing
a fish-pond at Keoneoio, in the neighborhood of Honuaula, left Maui
at once with less than a hundred spears, and, landing in Kona, whose
chief could be relied upon, he started overland for Waipio. The
revolution was unpopular, and with great unanimity the chiefs and
people rallied to the standard of the king. The struggle was brief. A
battle was fought near Waimea, resulting in the defeat of the rebel
army and the death of Noakua.
This ended the revolt. As a punishment to Neula the king took another
wife. But the object of Kaululaau was accomplished, for Kauholanui
never again visited Maui, although the queen spent much of her
time thereafter at Honuaula, where her favorite guest and friend
was Kamakaua.
Leaving Hilo, Kaululaau and his party leisurely drifted along the
coasts of Puna until they reached the borders of Kau, when they landed
at Keauhou to spend a few days in fishing and surf-riding.
Weary of the sport, Kaululaau left the bathers in the surf, one
afternoon, and threw himself under the shade of a hala tree near the
shore. Watching the clouds and the sea-birds circling in the heavens
above him, he fell asleep, and when he awoke his eyes fell upon a
beautiful woman sitting upon a rock not more than a hundred paces
distant, and silently watching the swimmers as they came riding in
on the crests of the rollers. Her skirts were a pau spangled with
crystals, and over her shoulders hung a short mantle of the colors
of a rainbow. Her long hair was held back by a lei of flowers, and
her wrists and ankles were adorned with circlets of tiny shells of
pink and white.
The appearance of the woman dazzled him, and after gazing for some
time, and rubbing his eyes to be sure that he was not dreaming, he
rose to his feet and approached the radiant being. Advancing within
four or five paces of the woman, apparently unobserved, he stopped,
and with a cough attracted her attention. Turning her face toward
him, he greeted her courteously, and requested permission to approach
nearer and converse with her. Her appearance indicated that she was
a person of rank, and he did not feel like trespassing uninvited upon
her privacy. She did not deign to make any reply to his request, but,
after scanning him from head to foot, turned her face toward the sea
again with a contemptuous toss of the head.
He hesitated for a moment, and then turned and strode rapidly down
to the beach, where his double canoe had been safely drawn up on the
sands. "In the guise of a bather," thought the prince, "she evidently
mistakes me for a servant. I will approach her in the garb to which
my rank entitles me, and see what effect that will have."
Entering the canoe, he girded his loins with a gaudy maro, hung round
his neck a palaoa, and threw over his shoulders a royal mantle of
yellow feathers. Then, crowning his head with a brilliant feather
helmet, he selected a spear of the length of six paces and stepped
from the canoe. As he did so he stumbled. "This means that I have
forgotten or omitted something of importance," said the prince to
himself, stopping and in detail scanning his equipments. At that moment
a lizard ran across his path and entered a hole in the earth. This
brought to mind his battle with the gigantic gnome on Lanai, and with
a smile he re-entered the canoe. Taking from a calabash, where it had
been for months secreted, the charmed spear-point of Lono, he affixed
it firmly to the point of a javelin, and, thus equipped, again sought
the presence of the fascinating being by whom he had been repulsed.
Advancing as before, he once more craved permission to approach near
enough to drink in the beauty of her eyes. But she seemed to be in
no mood to consent. Scanning him in his changed apparel, with an air
of indifference she said:
"You need not have taken the trouble to bedeck yourself with royal
feathers. I knew you before, as I know you now, to be Kaululaau,
son of Kakaalaneo, moi of Maui. I do not desire your company."
"Since you know who I am, I must claim the right to insist upon my
request, unless you can show, indeed, that you are of equal or better
rank." Saying this, the prince took a step forward.
"Then come," replied the woman, "since you are rude enough to attempt
it. Sit at my feet and tell me of your love, and I will search the
caves for squid and beat the kapa for you."
The prince advanced joyfully, and was about to seat himself at the
feet of the lovely being, when with a cry of pain he sprang back. The
rock he had touched was as hot as if it had just been thrown from
the crater of a volcano.
"Come," said the woman tauntingly; "do you not see that I am waiting
for you?"
Again the prince advanced, but the earth for two or three paces around
her was glimmering with heat, and he hastily withdrew to where the
ground and rocks were cool. He was now satisfied that he was dealing
with some one wielding supernatural powers, and resolved to test the
efficacy of the charmed point of his javelin.
"Why do you not come?" continued the woman in a tone of mingled
defiance and reproach.
"Because the earth where you are sitting is too warm for my feet,"
replied the prince, innocently. "Come where I am standing, and I
will sit beside you." And with the point of his javelin he marked
upon the ground the boundaries of a space around him.
"Retire some paces, and I will do so," replied the woman,
confidently. The prince withdrew, as requested, and she quietly
removed to the spot where he had been standing.
"Now come," said the woman, reseating herself; "perhaps you will find
it cooler here."
"I hope so," returned the prince, as he began cautiously to
advance. He crossed the line marked by the point of his javelin,
and felt no heat. He took three more steps forward, and the earth was
still cool. Another step, which brought him within two paces of the
enchantress, convinced him that her powers were impotent within the
boundaries of the line he had drawn, and with a sudden leap forward
he caught her in his arms.
Astounded at the failure of her powers, and humiliated at her defeat,
the woman struggled to free herself from the embrace of the prince;
but within the charmed circle she possessed but the strength of a
simple woman, and was compelled to yield to the supreme indignities
of superior force.
Exasperated beyond measure, she at length succeeded in eluding his
grasp and springing beyond the fatal line. The prince followed,
but she was now herself, and he could neither overtake nor restrain
her. Retreating some distance up the hill, she suddenly stopped
and awaited his approach. She permitted him to advance within forty
or fifty paces of her, when in the space of a breath she abandoned
her captivating disguise and stood forth in the form of Pele, the
dreadful goddess of Kilauea. Her eyes were bright as the midday sun,
and her hair was like a flame of fire.
The prince stopped in dismay. The goddess raised her hand, and at
her feet burst forth a stream of molten lava, rolling fiercely down
upon the prince, as if to engulf him. He started to escape by flight,
but the stream widened and increased in speed as it followed. Fearful
that it would overtake him before he could reach the sea, he thought
of his javelin, and with the point hastily drew a line in front of the
advancing flood. Continuing his flight and looking back, he discovered,
to his great relief, that the stream had stopped abruptly at the line
he had drawn, and could not pass it. Passing into a ravine, the angry
flow sought to reach the sea through its channel, and thus cut off
the retreat of the prince; but he crossed the depression, marking a
line as he went, and the fiery avalanche was stayed at the limit.
Observing that she was thwarted by some power whose element seemed
to be of the earth, Pele summoned her brother Keuakepo from Kilauea,
and a shower of fire and ashes descended upon Kaululaau and his
companions. Leaping into the sea to avoid the fire, they dragged the
double canoe from its moorings, and, swimming and pushing it through
the breakers, escaped from the coast with but little injury.
III.
Having embroiled himself with the divine and political powers of
Hawaii, Kaululaau rounded the southern point of La Lae and set sail for
Molokai. He spent a month on that island with the royal relatives of
his mother, by whom he was appropriately received and entertained. He
visited the home of Laamaomao, the wind-god, the poisoned grove of
Kalaipahoa, and the demolished fortress on the promontory of Haupu,
where the gallant Kaupeepee, of whose blood he was, met his dramatic
death. He then set sail for Oahu.
The island of Oahu was at that period one of the most prosperous in
the group. It was under the government of Kalona-iki, one of the two
sons of Mailikukahi, who during his reign had instituted a code of
laws giving better protection to the poor, making theft punishable
with death, and claiming as the wards of the government the first-born
male children of all families, without regard to rank or condition.
Kalona continued the peaceful and intelligent policy of his father,
and his court was noted alike for the brilliancy of its chiefs and
the beauty of its women. His principal place of residence was Waikiki,
although he had sumptuous temporary resorts at Ewa and Waialua.
Kaululaau first touched at Waialua, but, learning that the king was
at Waikiki, he ordered his canoe to proceed around to the south side
of the island in charge of his chief navigator, while he and Kamakaua
concluded to make the journey overland. Dispensing with all insignia of
rank, and habited like simple commoners, the prince and his companion
started unattended for Waikiki. Both were armed with javelins, but
the one borne by Kaululaau was tipped with the charmed point of Lono.
Proceeding along the foot of the Kaala range of mountains, in the
afternoon they sat down to rest in the shade of a hala tree. In a
ravine below them five or six men were working, and scattered along its
banks were a number of huts. Soon a tumult of screams reached them,
and men, women and children were seen running hither and thither in
a state of great excitement.
The travelers sprang to their feet, and as they did so a gigantic
bird swept immediately over their heads and winged its way toward the
hills. It passed so closely that the branches of the hala tree were
swayed by the motion of its mighty pinions, and its outspread wings
seemed to measure scarcely less than twenty long steps from tip to tip.
While watching the monster with amazement, a woman approached, and to
the questions of the prince replied, between wails of anguish, that
the great bird--the Pueoalii, as she called it--had just killed her
only child in front of her hut, with a stab to the heart resembling
the cut of a knife. She hurriedly gave the additional information that
for many years past the same bird had at intervals visited different
districts of the island, killing children, pigs and fowls, and that
the priests had declared it to be a pueo, or owl, sacred to the gods,
and which could not, therefore, be molested with safety, even if harm
to it were possible from human hands.
Better learned in the inspiration and purposes of such
visitations--since he had been instructed by the eminent high-priest
Waolani--and having had many conflicts with malignant spirits, he
doubted that the monster he had just seen was of the sacred pueo
family, and requested that he be shown the dead child. Proceeding
to the hut and inspecting the wound, he observed that the fatal cut
was upward, and not downward, as it would have been had it been made
by the beak of an owl. This confirmed him in the correctness of his
first impression, and, requesting Kamakaua to follow him, he started
toward the hills in the direction taken by the bird.
They could still see it in the distance, like a dark cloud against
the mountain. After following it for some time the bird swooped down
to commit some fresh depredation, and then rose and alighted upon a
rocky ridge with precipitous face sweeping down from the main summit
of Kaala.
"Why go farther?" said Kamakaua. "We cannot reach the bird, and,
if we could, our spears would be like straws to such a monster."
As if by a strong hand, the javelin in the grasp of the prince
forcibly turned and pointed toward the bird. Smiling at the augury,
Kaululaau replied:
"Look you carefully back and see if we are followed."
Kamakaua turned his face in compliance, and as he did so the prince
poised his javelin and hurled it in the direction of the bird. In
twenty paces the point did not droop; in forty it did not fall to
the ground; in a hundred a new energy seized it, and like a flash of
light it sped out of sight. A moment later the prince saw the bird
sink and disappear.
"I can see no one," said Kamakaua, after carefully scanning the
ground over which they had passed. "Nor can I now see the bird,"
he continued, looking toward the ridge. "Where can it be?"
"At the foot of the cliff," replied the prince, "with the point of
my javelin in his heart."
Having been with the prince on Molokai, Kamakaua received the strange
information without question or great wonder, and, hastening to the
base of the precipice, they found the monster dead, with the javelin
buried in its breast. Removing the weapon, they cut off the head and
one of the feet of the bird, pulled from its wings four of the longest
feathers, and with them returned to the hala tree under which they
had found shelter from the sun. The burden taxed their strength to
the utmost. The weight of the head, which was borne by the prince, was
scarcely less than that of his own body, while the feathers were seven
paces in length, and the claws two paces between their extreme points.
Great excitement followed the spreading of the news that Pueoalii had
been killed by strangers. The sufferers through its visitations were
disposed to commend the act, and others condemned it as an insult to
the gods, which would probably bring broadcast calamity upon the whole
island. To placate the anger of the gods it was proposed to sacrifice
the strangers at the nearest heiau, and, respectfully wrapping the
head of the bird in kapa, Kaululaau and his companion were conducted
with their trophies to the sacred temple of Kukaniloko, which was
not far distant. They were accompanied by a crowd which constantly
swelled in numbers as they proceeded, and on arriving at the heiau
they were surrounded by four or five hundred men and women, many of
them armed and clamoring for their blood.
Kaululaau was in nowise alarmed, but rather enjoyed the situation. The
high-priest of the temple appeared and the matter was laid before
him. Looking at the foot and mighty feathers of the bird, he turned
to the strangers and said:
"You have slain a creature sacred to the gods, and my thought is that
you should be sacrificed to avert their wrath."
"Be careful in your judgment, priest," replied the prince. "How know
you that the bird was sacred?"
"For years it has been so regarded," returned the priest. "How know
you that it was not?"
"Does it become the high-priest of Kukaniloko to ask such a
question?" said the prince. "But I will reply to it when you answer
this: With the javelin now in my hand I killed the bird at a distance
farther than from where we stand to yonder hills. Could it have been
done by human hand without the especial favor of the gods. If not,
then how have the gods been angered?"
The priest was confounded, and when the prince proposed to submit the
question of his guilt to the king, the suggestion was accepted. It now
being near nightfall, Kaululaau and his companion were removed within
the enclosure of the temple for safe-keeping, and, knowing that they
would be deprived of their weapons, the prince removed the charmed
point from his javelin and secreted it in the folds of his maro.
Early next morning the high-priest and his two prisoners, who were
kept under no marked restraint, accompanied by a large concourse of
people carrying the head, foot and feathers of Pueoalii, started for
Waikiki. Every one seemed to know that the great bird had been killed,
and many stood by the wayside to see the feathers that had been torn
from its wings, and catch a glimpse of its destroyer.
Near the middle of the day the great gathering arrived at Waikiki. As
many carried spears, it resembled an army in its march, and messengers
were despatched by the king to ascertain its meaning. Halting near
the shores of the harbor, and not far from the royal mansion, to
report the arrival of the prisoners and learn the pleasure of the
king, the prince observed his double canoe drawn up on the beach,
and requested permission to approach it, that he might secure the
counsel of his master, Kaululaau, son of the moi of Maui.
The favor could not well be denied, and, under guard of two inferior
priests of Kukaniloko, the prince was conducted to the canoe. As but
three or four of the crew were present, and their attention was wholly
absorbed in the gathering around the royal hale, the prince stepped,
unobserved by them, into the canoe, and passed quickly into his private
quarters--a close wicker-work apartment eight or ten feet in length
by the breadth of both canoes, and with a height of six feet or more
from their bottoms to the top screen.
Hurriedly investing himself with his regalia of rank, including helmet,
feather mantle and spear, he stepped into view and sounded a blast upon
a shell. Soon a number of his attendants made their appearance, and,
with such following as befitted a prince, he started for the royal
mansion. The guards who escorted him to the canoe did not recognize
him as he left it, and after passing the crowd surrounding the palace
his name and rank were announced to the king. He was promptly met
and courteously welcomed at the door by Kalona, and informed that
messengers of greeting and invitation would have been despatched to
him had his presence at Waikiki been known.
Kaululaau then apprised the king that he had but just arrived overland
from Waialua, while his double canoe had been sent around to meet
him at Waikiki, and that it was his purpose to spend some days on
Oahu. The hospitalities of the royal hale were then tendered and
accepted, after which the king explained to his distinguished guest
the cause of the large gathering around the palace, and invited him to
an inspection of the head, feathers and claws of the mighty Pueoalii,
and to listen to the story of the slayer of the sacred bird, should
he deem it of sufficient interest.
Kaululaau accompanied the king to a large dancing pavilion within the
royal enclosure, to which had been conveyed the severed parts of the
gigantic bird. After the claws and feathers had been examined with
awe and amazement, the king ordered the slayer of the bird to be
brought before him. The high-priest of Kukaniloko bowed and turned
to execute the order, when the guards placed over the prince came
from the beach with the information that their prisoner had escaped.
The priest was savage in his disappointment. "Either find him or
take his place upon the altar!" he hissed to the unfortunate guards,
and then led Kamakaua before the king, with the explanation that
the other prisoner had managed to elude the vigilance of his guards,
but would doubtless soon be found.
Kamakaua discovered the prince at the side of the king, and could
hardly restrain a smile. When questioned he denied that he killed
the great bird, but admitted that he assisted in removing the head,
feathers and one of the feet.
"This is trifling," said the king, turning to the priest with a
scowl. "Where is the other prisoner?"
"He is here, great king!" exclaimed Kaululaau, bowing before Kalona, to
the astonishment but great relief of the priest. "Favored by the gods,
I slew the malignant monster your priests call by the sacred name of
Pueoalii. Their skill should have instructed them differently. Will
the king favor me by ordering the kapa covering to be removed from
the head?"
The order was given, and the uncovered head was raised beak upward
before the king.
In a moment it was observed that the head was not of a pueo, or owl;
nor did it bear resemblance in form to that of any bird known. It
was narrow between the eyes, which in color were those of a shark,
and its long and pointed beak, both of the upper and under jaws,
turned sharply upward.
"It is not a pueo!" was the general exclamation.
"Are you satisfied, priest?" inquired the prince.
"I think it is not a pueo," responded the priest, reluctantly.
"You think it is not a pueo!" exclaimed the king, indignantly. "Do
you not know it? What pueo ever had such eyes and such a beak?"
The priest hung his head in confusion, and the prince, having
completely discomfited him, now came kindly to his relief by remarking:
"The mistake might well have been made, for on the wing and at a
distance the bird much resembled a pueo."
"You are kind to say so, prince," said the king; "but the priests and
kaulas have been greatly at fault. For years the bird has preyed upon
the people, and no one has dared to molest it. Since you killed it,
knowing that it was not sacred, perhaps you may be able to tell me
something of its unnatural birth and appetites."
Thus appealed to, Kaululaau modestly replied:
"If I may rely upon what seemed to be a dream last night, the bird was
possessed by the spirit of Hilo-a-Lakapu, one of the chiefs of Hawaii
who invaded Oahu during the reign of your royal father. He was slain
at Waimano, and his head was placed upon a pole near Honouliuli for
the birds to feed upon. He was of akua blood, and through a bird-god
relative his spirit was given possession of the monster which the
gods enabled me to slay."
The spirit of Hilo had been brought in with the head of the dead bird,
and with the utterance of these words by the prince the eyes rolled,
the ponderous jaws opened and closed, and with a noise like the scream
of an alae the malignant spirit took its departure.
The truth of the dream of Kaululaau thus being verified, the king
publicly thanked him for ridding the island of the monstrous scourge,
and ordered especial honors to be paid him by all classes so long
as it might be his pleasure to remain in the kingdom. In return the
prince presented to the king the head, claws and feathers of the bird,
the latter to be made into a mammoth kahili, and then made Kamakaua
known to him, together with such other chiefs in his train as were
entitled to royal recognition.
Kaululaau became at once the hero of the court as well as the idol
of the people. He remained more than a month on Oahu, enjoying the
unstinted hospitality of the king and his district chiefs. He was a
favorite with the fairest women of the court; but he gave his heart
to the beautiful Laiea-a-Ewa, sister of the wife of Kalona, and with
her returned to Maui.
Landing at Lahaina after his long absence, he was joyfully welcomed
home by his royal father, who had heard of his adventures and fully
forgiven the faults of his youth. With grief he learned that his friend
the high-priest, Waolani, had died some months before. Remembering his
oath, he found the burial place of the priest, and with his remains
secretly deposited the sacred spear-point of Lono, which had served
him so effectively. He devoutly kissed the relic before he hid it for
ever from view, and afterwards knelt and thanked Lono and the priest
for its use.
Lands were given him in Kauaula, where he resided until the end of
his days. Laiea was his only wife, and they were blessed with six
children, whose names alone are mentioned by tradition.
KELEA, THE SURF-RIDER OF MAUI.
CHARACTERS.
Kawao, king of Maui.
Kelea, sister of Kawao.
Piliwale, alii-nui of Oahu.
Paakanilea, wife of Piliwale.
Lo-Lale, brother of Piliwale.
Kalamakua, a chief of Ewa, cousin of Lo-Lale.
KELEA, THE SURF-RIDER OF MAUI.
THE LEGEND OF LO-LALE, THE ECCENTRIC PRINCE OF OAHU.
I.
Kelea, of whom in the past the bards of Oahu and Maui loved to sing,
was the beautiful but capricious sister of Kawao, king of Maui,
who in about A.D. 1445, at the age of twenty-five, succeeded to the
sovereignty of that island. Their royal father was Kahekili I., the
son of Kakae, who, with his brother, Kakaalaneo, was the joint ruler of
the little realm from about 1380 to 1415. Kakae was the rightful heir
to the moiship, and, as such, his son Kahekili succeeded him; but as
an accident in his youth had somewhat impaired his mental faculties,
Kakaalaneo became, through the expressed will of the dying Kamaloohua,
the joint ruler and virtual sovereign of the kingdom. He had sons
and daughters of his own; but he loved his weak-minded brother, and
respected the line of legitimate succession, and when the black kapa
covered him, Kahekili became king of Maui and Lanai; for during that
period the latter island was under the protection of the mois of Maui,
while Molokai still maintained its independence.
Kakaalaneo was noted for his business energy and strict sense of
justice. The court of the brothers was established at Lahaina--then
known as Lele--and was one of the most respected in all the group. It
was Kakaalaneo who introduced the bread-fruit there from Hawaii,
and won the love of the people by continuous acts of mercy and
benevolence. For some disrespect shown to his royal brother, whose
mental weakness doubtless subjected him to unkind remarks, he banished
his son Kaululaau to Lanai, which island, tradition avers, was at
that time infested by powerful and malignant spirits. They killed
pigs and fowls, uprooted cocoanut-trees and blighted taro patches,
and a gigantic and mischievous gnome amused himself by gliding like
a huge mole under the huts of his victims and almost upsetting them.
The priests tried in vain to quiet these malicious spirits. No sooner
were they exorcised away from one locality than they appeared in
another, and if they gave the taro patches a rest it was only to
tear the unripe bananas from their stems, or rend the walls and
embankments of artificial ponds, that their stores of fishes might
escape to the sea. Aware of these grievances, Kaululaau took with him
to Lanai a talisman of rare powers. It was the gift of his friend,
the high-priest of his father, and consisted of a spear-point that
had been dipped in the waters of Po, the land of death, and many
generations before left by Lono on one of his altars.
Crowning a long spear with this sacred point, Kaululaau attacked the
disturbing spirits, and in a short time succeeded either in bringing
them to submission or driving them from the island. The gnome Mooaleo
was the most difficult to vanquish. It avoided the prince, and for some
time managed to keep beyond the influence of the charmed spear-point;
but the monster was finally caught within the boundaries of a circular
line scratched with the talisman upon the surface of the earth beneath
which it was burrowing, and thereby brought to terms. It could not
pass the line, no matter how far below the surface it essayed to do
so. Heaving the earth in its strength and wrath, it chafed against
the charmed restraint that held it captive, and finally plunged
downward within the vertical walls of its prison. But there was no
path of escape in that direction. It soon encountered a lake of fire,
and was compelled to return to the surface, where it humbled itself
before the prince, and promised, if liberated, to quit the island for
ever. Kaululaau obliterated sixty paces of the line of imprisonment,
to enable Mooaleo to pass to the sea, into which the hideous being
plunged and disappeared, never to be seen again in Lanai.
In consideration of the great service of the exiled prince in restoring
quiet and security to the island, his father permitted him to return
to Maui, where he connected himself with the priesthood, and became
noted for his supernatural powers. The charmed spear-point is referred
to in later legends, and is thought to be still secreted with the
bones of a high-priest in a mountain cave on the island of Maui,
not far from the sacred burial-place of Iao.
But we have been straying two generations back of our story. The
legendary accounts of the ruling families of the principal islands of
the group are so threaded with romantic or fabulous incidents that, in
referring to any of the prominent actors in the past, it is difficult
to restrain the pen in its willingness to wander into the enchanted
by-ways in which the meles of the period abound.
Having alluded to the immediate ancestors of Kelea, the sister of
the young moi of Maui, we will now resume the thread of our legend by
referring somewhat more particularly to the princess herself. Brought
up in the royal court at Lahaina, with a brother only to divide the
affections of her father, Kelea was humored, petted and spoiled as
a child, and courted and flattered beyond measure as she grew to
womanhood. The meles describe her as a maiden of uncommon beauty; but
she was wayward, volatile and capricious, as might have been expected
of one so schooled and favored, and no consideration of policy or
persuasion of passion could move her to accept any one of the many
high chiefs who sought her in marriage. She loved the water--possibly
because she could see her fair face mirrored in it--and became the
most graceful and daring surf-swimmer in the kingdom. Frequently,
when the waters of Auau Channel surged wildly under the breath of the
south wind, or kona, Kelea, laughing at the fears of her brother,
would plunge into the sea with her onini, or surf-board, and so
audaciously ride the waves that those who watched and applauded
her were half-inclined to believe that she was the friend of some
water-god, and could not be drowned.
No sport was to her so enticing as a battle with the waves, and when
her brother spoke to her of marriage she gaily answered that the
surf-board was her husband, and she would never embrace any other. The
brother frowned at the answer, for he had hoped, by uniting his sister
to the principal chief of Hana, to more thoroughly incorporate in his
kingdom that portion of the island, then ruled by independent chiefs;
but by other means during his reign, it may be remarked, the union
of the two divisions was effected.
"Do not frown, Kawao," said Kelea, coaxingly; "a smile better becomes
your handsome face. I may marry some day, just to please you; but
remember what the voice said in the anu at the last feast of Lono."
"Yes, I remember," replied Kawao; "but I have sometimes believed that
when the kilo declared that in riding the surf Kelea would find a
husband, he was simply repeating an augury imparted to him by Kelea
herself."
"You will anger the gods by speaking so lightly of their words,"
returned Kelea, reproachfully; and Kawao smiled as the princess took
her leave with a dignity quite unusual with her.
Kawao loved his sister and was proud of her beauty; and while he was
anxious to see her suitably married, and felt no little annoyance at
the importunities of her suitors, he nevertheless recognized her right,
as the daughter of a king, to a voice in the selection of a husband.
But the voice from the anu was prophetic, whatever may have inspired
it; for while Kelea continued to ride the waves at Lahaina, a husband,
of the family of Kalona-iki, of Oahu, was in search of her, and to
that island we now request the reader to follow us.
There lived at that time at Lihue, in the district of Ewa, on the
island of Oahu, a chief named Lo-Lale, son of Kalona-iki, and brother
of Piliwale, the alii-nui, or nominal sovereign, of the island, whose
court was established at Waialua. Kalona-iki had married Kikinui,
and thus infused into the royal family the native and aristocratic
blood of Maweke, of the ancient line of Nanaula.
Lo-Lale was an amiable and handsome prince, but for some cause had
reached the age of thirty-five without marrying. The reason was
traced to the death by drowning, some years before, of a chiefess
of great beauty whom he was about to marry, and to whom he was
greatly attached. As he was of a gentle and poetic nature, his
disinclination to marriage may not be unreasonably attributed to
that event, especially when supported by the relation that thereafter
he abhorred the sea, and was content to remain at Lihue, beyond the
sound of its ceaseless surges.
Piliwale had passed his fiftieth year, and, having but two daughters
and no son, was more than ever desirous that his brother should marry,
that the family authority might be strengthened and the line of Kalona
perpetuated. And the friendly neighboring chiefs were equally anxious
that Lo-Lale should become the head of a family, and, to inspire him
with a disposition to marry, described with enthusiasm the beauty
of many maidens of distinguished rank whom they had met on the other
islands of the group.
To these importunities Lo-Lale finally yielded; and as a suitable wife
for so high a chief could not be found on Oahu, or, at least, one who
would be personally acceptable to him, it was necessary to seek for
her among the royal families of the other islands. Accordingly, a large
koa canoe was fitted out at Waialua, and with trusty messengers of rank
despatched to the windward islands in search of a wife for Lo-Lale. The
messengers were instructed to quietly visit the several royal courts,
and report upon the beauty, rank and eligibility of such marriageable
chiefesses of distinguished families as they might be able to discover.
Among the chiefs selected for the delicate mission, and the one upon
whose judgment the most reliance was placed, was Lo-Lale's cousin,
Kalamakua, a noble of high rank, whose lands were on the coast of
the Ewa district. He was bold, dashing and adventurous, and readily
consented to assist in finding a wife for his royal and romantic
relative.
Lo-Lale was at Waialua when the messengers embarked. He took an
encouraging interest in the expedition, and when banteringly asked by
his cousin if age would be any objection in a bride of unexceptionable
birth, replied that he had promised to take a wife solely to please
his royal brother, and any age under eighty would answer. But he did
not mean it.
"Not so," replied Piliwale, more than half in earnest. "I will not
become the uncle of a family of monsters. The bride must be as worthy
in person as in blood."
"Do you hear, Kalamakua?" said Lo-Lale, addressing his cousin, who
was standing beside the canoe, ready for departure; "do you hear the
words of Piliwale? She must be not only young but beautiful. If you
bring or give promise to any other, she shall not live at Lihue!"
"Do not fear," replied the cousin, gaily. "Whomsoever she may be,
we will keep her in the family; for if you refuse her, or she you,
I will marry her myself!"
"Fairly spoken!" exclaimed the king; "and I will see that he keeps
his promise, Lo-Lale."
Although the object of the voyage was known to but few, hundreds
gathered at the beach to witness the departure, for the canoe was
decorated, and the embarking chiefs appeared in feather capes and
other ornaments of their rank. Turning to the high-priest, who was
present, Piliwale asked him if he had observed the auguries.
"I have," replied the priest. "They are more than favorable." Then
turning his face northward, he continued: "There is peace in the
clouds, and the listless winging of yonder bird betokens favoring
winds."
Amid a chorus of alohas! the canoe dashed through the breakers
and out into the open sea, holding a course in the direction of
Molokai. Reaching that island early the next day, the party landed
at Kalaupapa. The alii-nui received them well, but inquiry led to
nothing satisfactory, and, proceeding around the island, the party
next landed on Lanai. It is probable that they were driven there by
unfavorable winds, as Lanai was a dependency of Maui at that time,
and none but subject chiefs resided on the island. However, they
remained there but one day, and the next proceeded to Hana, Maui,
with the intention of crossing over to Hawaii and visiting the court
of Kiha at Waipio. Inquiring for the moi, they learned that Kawao
had removed his court from Lahaina, for the season, to Hamakuapoko,
to enjoy the cool breezes of that locality and indulge in the
pleasures of surf-bathing. They were further informed that a large
number of chiefs had accompanied the moi to that attractive resort,
and that Kelea, sister of the king, and the most beautiful woman on
the island as well as the most daring and accomplished surf-swimmer,
was also there as one of the greatest ornaments of the court.
This was agreeable information, and the party re-embarked and arrived
the next morning off Hamakuapoko, just as the fair Kelea and her
attendants had gone down to the beach to indulge in a buffet with the
surf. Swimming out beyond the breakers, and oblivious of everything
but her own enjoyment, Kelea suddenly found herself within a few yards
of the canoe of the Oahuan chiefs. Presuming that it contained her own
people, she swam still closer, when she discovered, to her amazement,
that all the faces in the canoe were strange to her. Perceiving her
embarrassment, Kalamakua rose to his feet, and, addressing her in a
courtly and respectful manner, invited her to a seat in the canoe,
offering to ride the surf with it to the beach--an exciting and
sometimes dangerous sport, in which great skill and coolness are
required.
The language of the chief was so gentle and suggestive of the manners
of the court that the invitation was accepted, and the canoe mounted
one of the great waves successively following two of lighter bulk
and force, and was adroitly and safely beached. The achievement was
greeted with applause on the shore, and when the proposal was made to
repeat the performance Kelea willingly retained her seat. Again the
canoe successfully rode the breakers ashore, and then, through her
attendants, Kalamakua discovered that the fair and dashing swimmer
was none other than Kelea, the sister of the moi of Maui.
With increased respect Kalamakua again invited his distinguished
guest to join in the pleasure and excitement of a third ride over
the breakers. She consented, and the canoe was once more pulled out
beyond the surf, where it remained for a moment, awaiting a high,
combing roller on which to be borne to the landing. One passed and
was missed, and before another came a squall, or what was called a
mumuku, suddenly struck the canoe, rendering it utterly unmanageable
and driving it out upon the broad ocean.
When the canoe started Kelea would have leaped into the sea had she
not been restrained; but Kalamakua spoke so kindly to her--assuring
her that they would safely ride out the storm and return to
Hamakuapoko--that she became calmer, and consented to curl down beside
him in the boat to escape the fury of the winds. Her shapely limbs
and shoulders were bare, and her hair, braided and bound loosely back,
was still wet, and grew chilling in the wind where it fell. Kalamakua
took from a covered calabash a handsome kihei, or mantle, and wrapped
it around her shoulders, and then seated her in the shelter of his
own burly form. She smiled her thanks for these delicate attentions,
and the chief was compelled to admit to himself that the reports of
her great beauty had not been exaggerated. He could recall no maiden
on Oahu who was her equal in grace and comeliness, and felt that,
could she be secured for his eccentric cousin, his search would be
at an end. He even grew indignant at the thought that she might not
prove acceptable, but smiled the next moment at his promise to marry
the girl himself should she be refused by his cousin.
But the fierce mumuku afforded him but little time to indulge such
dreams. The sea surged in fury, and like a cockleshell the canoe was
tossed from one huge wave to another. The spray was almost blinding,
and, while Kalamakua kept the little craft squarely before the wind as
a measure of first importance, his companions were earnestly employed
in alternately baling and trimming as emergency suggested.
On, on sped the canoe, farther and farther out into the open sea,
tossed like a feather by the crested waves and pelted by the driving
spray. The scene was fearful. The southern skies had grown black
with wrath, and long streamers sent from the clouds shot northward
as if to surround and cut off the retreat of the flying craft. All
crouched in the bottom of the boat, intent only on keeping it before
the wind and preventing it from filling. A frailer craft would have
been stove to pieces; but it was hewn from the trunk of a sound koa
tree, and gallantly rode out the storm.
But when the wind ceased and the skies cleared, late in the afternoon,
the canoe was far out at sea and beyond the sight of land. It was
turned and headed back; but as there was no wind to assist the paddles,
and the waters were still rough and restless, slow progress toward
land was made; and when the sun went down Kalamakua was undecided
which way to proceed, as he was not certain that the storm had not
carried them so far from the coast of Maui that some point on Molokai
or Oahu might be more speedily and safely reached than the place
from which they started. Their supply of poi had been lost during
the gale by the breaking of the vessel containing it; but they had
still left a small quantity of dried fish, raw potatoes and bananas,
and a calabash of water, and ate their evening meal as cheerfully
as if their supplies were exhaustless and the green hills of Waialua
smiled upon them in the distance. Such was the Hawaiian of the past;
such is the Hawaiian of to-day. His joys and griefs are centred in
the present, and he broods but little over the past, and borrows no
trouble from the future.
The stars came out, and a light wind began to steal down upon them
from the northwest. It was quite chilly, and felt like the breath
of the returning trade-winds, which start from the frozen shores of
northwestern America, and gradually grow warmer as they sweep down
through the tropic seas. These winds, continuing, with intervals
of cessation, eight or nine months in the year, are what give life,
beauty and an endurable climate to the Hawaiian group.
As the breeze freshened sails were raised, and then the course to be
taken remained to be determined. Kalamakua expressed his doubts to
Kelea, as if inviting a suggestion from her; but she was unable to
offer any advice, declaring that she had not noticed the course of
the wind that had driven them so far out upon the ocean.
"And I am equally in doubt," said the chief. "We may have been blown
farther toward the rising of the sun than the headlands of Hana. If
so, the course we are now sailing would take us to Hawaii, if not,
indeed, beyond, while in following the evening star we might even
pass Oahu. I therefore suggest a course between these two directions,
which will certainly bring us to land some time to-morrow."
"Then, since we are all in doubt," replied Kelea, "and the winds are
blowing landward, why not trust to the gods and follow them?"
"Your words are an inspiration," returned the chief, delighted
that she had suggested a course that would enable him to make Oahu
direct; for, as may be suspected, he was an accomplished navigator,
and was really in little or no doubt concerning the direction of the
several islands mentioned. "You have spoken wisely," he continued,
as if yielding entirely to her judgment; "we will follow the winds
that are now cooling the shores of Hamakuapoko."
Thus adroitly was Kelea made a consenting party to her own
abduction. Kalamakua took the helm, slightly changing the course of
the canoe, and his companions made themselves comfortable for the
evening. Their wet rolls of kapa had been dried during the afternoon,
and there was room enough to spare to arrange a couch for Kelea in
the bottom of the boat. But she was too much excited over the strange
events of the day to sleep, or even attempt to rest, and therefore
sat near Kalamakua in the stern of the canoe until past midnight,
watching the stars and listening to the story, with which he knew she
must sooner or later become acquainted, of his romantic expedition
in search of a wife for his cousin.
It is needless to say that Kalea was surprised and interested in the
relation; and when Kalamakua referred to the high rank of his cousin,
to his handsome person and large estates at Lihue, and begged her to
regard with favor the proposal of marriage which he then made to her
in behalf of Lo-Lale, she frankly replied that, if her royal brother
did not object, she would give the proffer consideration.
As Kalamakua had concluded not to take the hazard of securing the
consent of her brother, who doubtless had some other matrimonial
project in view for her, he construed her answer into a modestly
expressed willingness to become the wife of Lo-Lale, and the more
resolutely bent his course toward Oahu. He watched the Pleiades--the
great guide of the early Polynesian navigators--as they swept up into
the heavens, and, bearing still farther to the northward to escape
Molokai, announced that he would keep the steering-oar for the night,
and advised his companions, now that the breeze was steady and the
sea smoother, to betake themselves to rest. And Kelea at last curled
down upon her couch of kapa, and Kalamakua was left alone with his
thoughts to watch the wind and stars.
Although a long and steady run had been made during the night, no
land was visible the next morning. Kelea scanned the horizon uneasily,
and, without speaking, looked at Kalamakua for an explanation.
"Before the sun goes down we shall see land," said the chief.
"What land?" inquired Kelea.
"Oahu," was the reply, but the chief was not greeted with the look
of surprise expected.
"I am not disappointed," returned the princess, quite
indifferently. "You seem to have been sailing by the wandering stars
last night, for before daylight I looked up and saw by Kao that your
course was directly toward the place of sunset."
Five of the planets--Mercury, Mars, Venus, Jupiter and Saturn--were
known to the ancient Hawaiians, and designated as na hoku aea,
or wandering stars. The fixed stars were also grouped by them into
constellations, and Kao was their name for Antares.
With a look of genuine surprise Kalamakua replied:
"I did not know before that so correct a knowledge of navigation was
among the many accomplishments of the sister of Kawao."
"It required no great knowledge of the skies to discover last night
that we were not bearing southward, and needs still less now to
observe that we are sailing directly west," Kelea quietly remarked.
"I will not attempt to deceive one who seems to be able to instruct me
in journeying over the blue waters," said Kalamakua, politely. "Your
judgment is correct. We are sailing nearly westward, and the first
land sighted will probably be the headlands of Kaawa."
"You have acted treacherously," resumed the princess, after a pause,
as if suddenly struck with the propriety of protesting against the
abduction.
"Possibly," was the brief reply.
"Yes," she continued, after another pause, "you have acted
treacherously, and my brother will make war upon Oahu unless I am
immediately returned to Hamakuapoko."
"He will find work for his spears," was the irritating response.
"Is it a habit with the chiefs of Oahu to steal their wives?" inquired
Kelea, tauntingly.
"No," Kalamakua promptly replied; "but I would not eat from the same
calabash with the chief who would throw back into the face of the
generous winds the gift of the rarest flower that ever blossomed on
Hawaiian soil!"
The pretty compliment of the chief moved Kelea to silence; yet
he observed that there was a sparkle of pleasure in her eyes, and
that the novelty and romance of the situation were not altogether
distasteful to her.
Land was sighted late in the afternoon. It was Kaoio Point, on the
western side of Oahu. Rounding it, they landed at Mahana, where they
procured food and water and passed the night, and the next day had
an easy voyage to Waialua.
Landing, Kalamakua at once communicated with Piliwale, giving the
high rank of Kelea, as well as the strange circumstances under which
she had been brought to Waialua. Queen Paakanilea promptly despatched
attendants to the beach with appropriate apparel, and in due time the
distinguished visitor was received at the royal mansion in a manner
consistent with her rank.
The next day a message brought Lo-Lale from Lihue. He was dressed in
his richest trappings, and brought with him, as an offering to Kelea,
a rare necklace of shells and curiously-carved mother-of-pearl. He was
conducted to the princess by Kalamakua. They seemed to be mutually
pleased with each other. In fact, Lo-Lale was completely charmed
by the fair stranger, and in his enthusiasm offered to divide his
estates with his cousin as an evidence of his gratitude.
Kalamakua had himself become very much interested in Kelea, and
secretly hoped that his cousin might find something in her blood or
bearing to object to, in which case he felt that she might be induced
to regard his own suit with favor; but Lo-Lale declared her to be a
model of perfection, and wooed her with so much earnestness that she
finally consented to become his wife without waiting to hear from
her brother.
Her rank was quite equal to that of Lo-Lale, and the king was so
greatly pleased with the union that he added considerably to the
estates of his brother at Lihue, and the nuptials were celebrated with
games, feasting, dancing and the commencement of a new heiau near
Waialua, which was in time completed and dedicated to Lono, with a
large image of Laamaomao, the Hawaiian Æolus, at the inner entrance,
in poetic commemoration of the winds that drove Kelea away from the
coast of Maui.
At the conclusion of the festivities at Waialua, Kelea was borne
all the way to Lihue in a richly-mounted manele, or native palanquin
with four bearers. There were three hundred attendants in her train,
exclusive of thirty-six chiefs as a guard of honor, wearing feather
capes and helmets, and armed with javelins festooned with leis
of flowers and tinted feathers. It was a right royal procession,
and its entrance into Lihue was the beginning of another round of
festivities continuing for many days. Portions of the mele recited
by Lo-Lale in welcome of his wife to Lihue are still remembered and
repeated, and the occasion was a popular theme of song and comment
for a generation or more among the people of that district.
And thus Kelea, the beautiful sister of the moi of Maui, became the
wife of Lo-Lale, brother of Piliwale, king of Oahu.
II.
It is now in order to return to Hamakuapoko, to note what transpired
there on the sudden disappearance of Kelea before the strong breath
of the mumuku. The king was profoundly grieved, and summoned the
attendants of his sister to learn the particulars of the misfortune. To
all of them it was manifest that the canoe had been blown out to sea
in spite of the efforts of its occupants, and, as the gale continued
to increase in violence during the day, it was feared that the entire
party had perished. As to the strangers, no one seemed to know anything
of them or of the island from which they came. They did not seem to
belong to the makaainana, or common people, and one of them, it was
believed from his bearing, was a high chief.
This was all the information the wailing attendants were able to
give. One man, who had noticed the canoe as it came and went through
the surf, thought it was from Hawaii, while another was equally certain
that it was from Oahu; but as the general structure of canoes on the
several islands of the group differed but little, their descriptions
of the craft furnished no real clue to the mystery.
With the cessation of the storm, late in the afternoon, came a hope
to Kawao that the missing canoe had safely ridden out the gale,
and would seek the nearest land favored by the changing winds. He
therefore summoned the high-priest, and instructed him to put his
diviners and magicians to the task of discovering what had become
of the princess Kelea. Pigs and fowls were slain, prayers were
said in the heiau, and late in the evening information came through
supernatural agencies that Kelea was still living. But this was not
satisfactory to the king. He demanded something more specific, and a
kaula of great sanctity was prepared and placed in the anu, a wicker
enclosure within the inner court, and in due time, in answer to the
questions of the high-priest, announced that the canoe containing
the princess was sailing in safety toward Oahu.
The words of the kaula were repeated to the king, and the next
day he despatched a well-manned canoe, in charge of one of his
plumed halumanus, or military aids, to find and bring back the lost
Kelea. Owing to unfavorable winds or bad management the canoe did not
reach Makapuu Point, Oahu, until the fourth day. Proceeding along the
northeastern coast of the island, and landing wherever practicable
to make inquiries, the easy-going messenger did not arrive at Waialua
until two days after the departure of Kelea for Lihue.
Learning that the princess had become the wife of Lo-Lale, the
disappointed halumanu did not deem it necessary to communicate with
her, but briefly paid his respects to the king, to whom he made known
the nature of his errand to Oahu, and his resolution to return at once
to Maui and acquaint his royal master with the result of his mission.
Appreciating that, in his anxiety to see his brother properly mated,
he had countenanced a proceeding sufficiently discourteous to the
moi of Maui to warrant a hostile response, Piliwale treated the
halumanu with marked kindness and consideration, and insisted upon
sending an escort with him back to Maui, including the bearer of a
friendly explanatory message from himself to Kawao. For this delicate
service no one could be found so competent as the courtly Kalamakua,
who was well versed in the genealogy of the Kalona family, and would
be able to satisfactorily, if not quite truthfully, explain why it
was that the canoe containing the princess, when driven out to sea,
was headed for Oahu instead of Maui when the storm abated.
Kalamakua was accordingly despatched on the mission. Being a much
better sailor than the halumanu, he found no difficulty either in
parting company with him off the coast of eastern Maui or in reaching
Hamakuapoko three or four hours in advance of the party he was
courteously escorting thither. This enabled the wily Oahuan to secure
an audience with the king, and deliver his message and explanation in
full, before the halumanu could land and give his version of the story.
Kalamakua's explanation of the impossibility, after the storm, of
reaching in safety any land other than Oahu or Molokai, seemed to
be satisfactory; and when he dwelt upon the well-known high rank of
Lo-Lale, as recognized by the aha-alii, and referred to his manly
bearing, his amiable disposition and the amplitude of his estates,
Kawao answered sadly:
"Then so let it be. It is perhaps the will of the gods. I would have
had it otherwise; but be to Kelea and her husband, and to my royal
brother the king of Oahu, my messenger of peace."
Thanking the moi for his kindly words, Kalamakua took his leave. As
he was about to re-embark in the afternoon for Oahu, the discomfited
halumanu, having but just then landed, passed him on the beach. Knowing
that he had been outwitted, in his wrath he reached for the handle
of his knife. But he did not draw it. Kalamakua stopped and promptly
answered the challenge; but the halumanu passed on, and with a smile
he stepped into his canoe, and a few minutes later was on his way to
Oahu with Kawao's welcome messages of peace.
As the years came and went in their quiet home at Lihue, Lo-Lale lost
none of his affection for Kelea. No wars distracted the group. Liloa,
the son of Kiha and father of Umi, had become the peaceful sovereign
of Hawaii; Kahakuma, the ancestor of some of the most distinguished
families of the islands, held gentle and intelligent sway in Kauai;
Kawao still ruled in Maui, and Piliwale in Oahu.
To gratify his wife, Lo-Lale surrounded her with every comfort. The
choicest fruits of the island were at her command, and every day
fresh fish and other delicacies of the sea were brought to her from
the neighboring coasts. In short, everything not tabu to the sex
was provided without stint. Summer-houses were constructed for her
in the cool recesses of the Waianae Mountains, and a manele, with
relays of stout bearers, was always at her service for the briefest
journeys. The people of the district were proud of her rank and
beauty, and at seasons of hookupu, or gift-making, she was fairly
deluged with rare and valuable offerings.
Yet, with all this affluence of comfort and affection, Kelea became
more and more restless and unhappy. Nor did the presence of her
children, of whom she had three, seem to render her more contented. She
longed for the sea; for the bounding surf which had been the sport
of her girlhood; for the white-maned steeds of ocean, which she had
so often mounted and fearlessly ridden to the shore; for the thunder
of the breakers against the cliffs; for the murmur of the reef-bound
wavelets timidly crawling up the beach to kiss and cool her feet; and
the more she yearned for her old-time pleasures, the greater became
her dissatisfaction with the tamer life and surroundings of Lihue.
Knowing her love for the sea, Lo-Lale made occasional excursions
with her to the coast, frequently remaining there for days
together. Sometimes they visited the east and sometimes the south
side of the island; but the place which seemed to please her above
all others was Ewa, where Kalamakua made his home. He, too, loved the
sea, and during her visits there afforded her every opportunity to
indulge her passion for it. Together they had charming sails around
the Puuloa (Pearl River) lagoon, and gallant rides over the surf at the
entrance. There, and there only, did she seem to recover her spirits;
there only did she seem to be happy.
This did not escape the notice of Lo-Lale, and a great grief filled
his heart as he sometimes thought, in noting her brightened look in
the presence of Kalamakua, that it was less the charms of the surf
than of his cousin's handsome face that made the waters of Ewa so
attractive to Kelea.
Life at Lihue finally became so irksome to her, and even the continued
kindness of Lo-Lale so unwelcome, that she announced her determination
to leave the home of her husband for ever. This resolution was
not altogether unexpected by Lo-Lale, for he had not been blind
to her growing restlessness and was prepared for the worst; and as
the prerogatives of her high rank gave her the undoubted privilege
of separation if she desired it, he reluctantly consented to the
divorcement. When asked where it was her purpose to go, she answered:
"Probably to Maui, to rejoin my brother."
"More probably not beyond Ewa," was Lo-Lale's significant reply. "But,
no matter where you may go," he continued, with dignity, "take your
departure from Lihue in a manner consistent with your rank. You were
received here as became the sister of a king and the wife of the son
of Kalona-iki. So would I have you depart. I reproach you with nothing,
myself with nothing; therefore let us part in peace."
"We part in peace," was Kelea's only answer, and the next morning
she quietly took her departure with four or five attendants. A chant
expressive of Lo-Lale's grief at the separation was long after recited,
but these lines are all of it that have been preserved:
"Farewell, my partner on the lowland plains,
On the waters of Pohakeo,
Above Kanehoa,
On the dark mountain spur of Mauna-una!
O Lihue, she is gone!
Sniff the sweet scent of the grass,
The sweet scent of the wild vines
That are twisted by Waikoloa,
By the winds of Waiopua,
My flower!
As if a mote were in my eye,
The pupil of my eye is troubled;
Dimness covers my eyes. Woe is me!"
Leaving Lihue, Kelea descended to Ewa, and, skirting the head of the
lagoon by way of Halawa, on the afternoon of the second day arrived at
the entrance, immediately opposite Puualoa. There she found a large
number of nobles and retainers of Kalamakua, the high chief of the
district, amusing themselves in the surf. As she had not seen the
salt water for some months, Kelea could not resist the temptation
to indulge in her old pastime, and, borrowing a surf-board from one
of the bathers, plunged into the sea, and soon joined the party of
surf-riders beyond the breakers.
Soon a huge roller made its appearance, and all mounted it and started
for the shore. The race was exciting, for the most expert swimmers in
the district were among the contestants; but in grace, daring and skill
Kelea very plainly excelled them all, and was loudly cheered as she
touched the shore. Kalamakua was reposing in the shade, not far away,
and, hearing the tumult of voices, inquired the cause. He was told that
a beautiful woman from Lihue had beaten all the chiefs at surf-riding,
and the people could not restrain their enthusiasm. Satisfied that
there was but one Lihue woman who could perform such a feat, and that
she must be Kelea, the wife of his cousin Lo-Lale, he proceeded to the
beach just as a second trial had resulted in a triumph to the fair
contestant quite as emphatic as the first. As she touched the shore
Kalamakua threw his kihei (mantle) over her shoulders and respectfully
greeted her. Kelea then informed him that she had formally separated
from her husband and was about to embark for Maui.
"If that is the case," said Kalamakua, gently taking her by the arm,
as if to restrain her, "you will go no farther than Ewa. When I went
in search of a wife for Lo-Lale, I promised that if he objected to
the woman I brought or recommended, or she to him, I would take her
myself, if she so willed. You have objected to him. Is Kalamakua
better to your liking?"
"I will remain at Ewa," was the satisfactory answer.
"Yes, and you should have gone there instead of to Lihue, when you
landed at Waialua years ago," continued Kalamakua, earnestly.
"My thought is the same," was Kelea's frank avowal; and she beckoned
to her attendants, and told Kalamakua that she was ready to follow him.
Did he expect her at the beach that morning? Tradition offers no direct
answer to the question, but significantly mentions that Kalamakua
spent one or two days at Lihue not long before, that houses were in
readiness for her at Ewa, and that she was borne thither on a manele,
escorted by the principal chiefs and nobles of the district.
Learning, not long after, that Kelea had become the wife of Kalamakua,
the gentle-hearted Lo-Lale sent to her a present of fruits and a
message of peace and forgiveness; but it was his request that they
might never meet again, and he spent the remainder of his days in
Lihue, caring for the welfare of his people and dreaming in the
shadows of the hills of Kaala.
But little more need here be told. Kelea and Kalamakua lived happily
together, and were blessed with a daughter, Laielohelohe, who inherited
her mother's beauty, and became the wife of her cousin Piilani, son
and successor of Kawao, moi of Maui; but it was not until after the
betrothal of the cousins, which was agreed to in their childhood,
that Kawao fully forgave his volatile sister for marrying a prince
of Oahu without his consent.
Piikea, one of the daughters of Piilani and Laielohelohe, became
in after-time the wife of the great Umi, of Hawaii, and through her
great-grandson, I, the ancestress of Kalakaua, the present sovereign
of the group. Lono-a-Pii, another of their children, succeeded his
father as moi of Maui.
As a further example of the manner in which the blood of the reigning
families of the several islands of the group was commingled in the
early periods of their history, it may be mentioned that Kaholi,
a son of Lo-Lale and Kelea, was united in marriage to Kohipa, one
of the two daughters of Piliwale; while the other, Kukaniloko, who
followed her father as sovereign of Oahu, became the wife of Luaia,
grandson of Kakaalaneo, the joint ruler of Maui during the reign of
the unfortunate Kakae.
UMI, THE PEASANT PRINCE OF HAWAII.
CHARACTERS.
Kiha, king of Hawaii.
Ika, chief of a band of demi-demons.
Puapua-lenalena, a demon dog.
Liloa, afterwards king of Hawaii.
Pinea, wife of Liloa.
Hakau, son and successor of Liloa.
Kapukini, daughter of Liloa.
Akahia-kuleana, a peasant girl loved by Liloa.
Umi, son of Akahia-kuleana.
Maakao, husband of Akahia-kuleana.
Kukulani, wife of Hakau.
Kulamea, the betrothed of Umi.
Maukaleoleo, the giant friend of Umi.
Laeanui, the high-priest of Hawaii.
Kaoleioko, a warrior-priest.
Nuna and
Kalohe, priests of Waipio.
Omaukamau, brother of Kulamea, and
Piimaiwaa, lieutenants of Umi.
UMI, THE PEASANT PRINCE OF HAWAII.
THE HISTORIC LEGENDS OF LILOA, HAKAU, AND THE "KIHA-PU."
I.
Nowhere on the island of Hawaii do the palms grow taller than in
the valleys of Waipio, and nowhere is the foliage greener, for every
month in the year they are refreshed with rains, and almost hourly
cooled in the shadows of passing clouds.
And sweet are the waters that sing through the valleys of Waipio. They
are fed by the tears of the trade-winds gathered in the shaded gorges
of the mountains where they find their source, and are speeded to
the ocean by hurrying and impatient cascades through black channels
fretted with bowlders and fringed with everlasting green.
Tradition says the waters of Waipio, after their first descent from
the hills, at one time crawled quite sluggishly to the sea; but a great
fish--larger than the island of Kaula--whose home was in the depths off
the coast of Hamakua, required more fresh water than was furnished by
the principal stream of the valley, and Kane, who was friendly with
the monster, increased the volume of the little river by creating
new springs at its sources, and accelerating the flow by raising the
bed in places and providing additional riffles and cascades. The
great fish no longer frequents that part of the coast of Hamakua,
but the cascades and riffles remain, with the broad finger-marks of
Kane upon the rocks hurled into the gorge to create them.
Although but thinly populated now, Waipio was for many generations in
the past a place of great political and social importance, and the
tabus of its great temple were the most sacred in all Hawaii. For
two hundred years or more it was the residence of the kings of that
island, and was the scene of royal pageants, priestly power and
knightly adventure, as well as of many sanguinary battles.
Waipio valley was first occupied as a royal residence by Kahaimoelea,
near the middle or close of the thirteenth century, and so continued
until after the death of Liloa, about the end of the fifteenth
century. For some reason not clearly stated the successor of
Liloa removed his court from Waipio to the opposite coast of the
island. Although the glory of the old capital departed with its
abandonment as the royal residence, the tabus of its great temple of
Paakalani continued to command supreme respect until as late as 1791,
when the heiau was destroyed, with all its sacred symbols and royal
associations, by the confederated forces of Maui and Kauai in their
war with Kamehameha I.
Although the story about to be related opens in the reign of Liloa,
which closed with his death in about 1485, it is pertinent to refer,
as briefly as the strange circumstances of the time will permit,
to the father of that sovereign--the great Kiha--concerning whose
career many curious traditions survive. The reign of Kiha was long
and peaceful. He was endowed not only with marked abilities as a
ruler, but with unusual physical strength and skill in the use of
arms. In addition to these natural advantages and accomplishments,
which gave him the respect and fear of his subjects, it was popularly
believed that he possessed supernatural resources, and could call to
his aid, in an emergency, weird forces in opposition to which mere
human endeavor would be weak and fruitless. Under the circumstances,
it is not strange that the chiefs of the neighboring islands deemed
it prudent to court his friendship, and that no great wars distracted
the kingdom during his reign.
Among the means at the command of Kiha for summoning to his assistance
the invisible forces subject to his call, the most potential was a
curious war-trumpet, the notes of which, when blown by Kiha, could be
heard a distance of ten miles, even from Waipio to Waimea. According
to the character of the blast, its voice was either a summons to
unseen powers, a rallying-cry to the people, or a dreadful challenge
to battle. This trumpet was a large sea-shell. It was a native of
foreign waters, and another like it could not be found in the Hawaiian
group. It was ornamented with rows of the teeth of distinguished
chiefs slain in battle, and could be so blown as to bring forth the
dying groans or battle cries of all of them in dreadful diapason.
Many legends are related of the manner in which Kiha became possessed
of this marvellous shell, but the most probable explanation is that it
was brought from some one of the Samoan or Society Islands three or
four centuries before, and had been retained in the reigning family
of Hawaii as a charm against certain evils. In the hands of the
crafty Kiha, however, it developed new powers and became an object
of awe in the royal household. Whatever may have been the beneficent
or diabolic virtues of this shell-clarion of Kiha--of the Kiha-pu,
as it is called--its existence, at least, was a reality, since it is
to-day one of the attractions of the Royal Hawaiian Museum of Honolulu,
brought down by the Kamehameha branch of the Kiha line. When vigorously
blown it still responds in sonorous voice, suggestive of the roar of
breakers around the jutting cliffs of Hamakua; but Lono no longer heeds
the mandate of its call, and brown-armed warriors come no more at its
bidding. Of the many strange stories still retained of the Kiha-pu,
one is here given, nearly in the language in which it has come down
in Hawaiian chant and song.
a story of the kiha-pu.
For a period of eight years, during the reign of Kiha, the Kiha-pu was
missing from the cabinet of royal charms and treasures. A new temple
was to be dedicated to Lono, not far from Waipio, and feathers of the
mamo, oo and other birds were required to weave into royal mantles
and redecorate Kaili and other gods of the king's household. But one
of the Kahu alii, constituting the five classes of guardians of the
royal person, was permitted to touch the Kiha-pu, nor did any other
know of its depository in the king's chamber. His name was Hiolo. He
was the son of a distinguished chief, and his office was that of
ipukuha, or spittoon-bearer--a position of peculiar responsibility,
which could be filled only by persons of noble blood and undoubted
attachment to their sovereign.
Desirous of hastily assembling and despatching to the neighboring
sea-shores and mountains a large party of feather-hunters, the
king, reclining in the shade of the palms in front of the royal
mansion, commanded Hiolo to bring to him the Kiha-pu, that he might
with a single blast summon his subjects throughout the valleys
of Waipio. Hiolo proceeded to the chamber of the king, and a few
minutes after returned pale and speechless, and threw himself at the
feet of Kiha, tearing his hair, lacerating his flesh with his nails,
and exhibiting other evidences of extreme agony and desperation.
Nothing ever startled a sovereign of the line of Pili. Under all
circumstances he acted with apparent deliberation. It was a natural
trait, strengthened by example and education.
Kiha calmly regarded his ipukuha for a moment, and then said:
"What spirit of evil possesses you? Rise, Hiolo, and speak!"
Hiolo rose to his feet, and, with a look of despair, exclaimed:
"It is no fault of mine; but tear out the tongue that tells you the
Kiha-pu is gone!"
Without replying, the king, with a terrible scowl upon his face,
rose and strode into his chamber. Parting the curtains of kapa
which secluded the back portion of the apartment, he stepped to an
elaborately carved and ornamented ipu, a container shaped and hollowed
from the trunk of a koa tree. He found the vessel open, and beside
it on the matted floor the several folds of kapa in which the Kiha-pu
had been wrapped; but instead of the sacred trumpet he discovered at
the bottom of the ipu a hideously-carved head and face of stone. The
shell had been adroitly abstracted, but the image that had been left
in its place saved the life of Hiolo, for by it Kiha discerned that the
theft and substitution had been achieved through supernatural agencies.
The loss of the Kiha-pu was a great grief to the king. But he did
not deem it prudent to admit that he no longer possessed the sacred
talisman, and therefore announced to Hiolo that the trumpet had been
found. Under the pretence that it had been carelessly misplaced by
Hiolo, Kiha declared that he would be its sole guardian thereafter.
There was great joy at the court when it was learned from the lips of
the king that the Kiha-pu had been found; yet it was observed that it
was not used to summon the feather-hunters, and after the sun went down
that evening many thought they faintly heard the music of its voice
coming in from the sea. And the king detected the familiar sound,
and, fearful that others might hear it as well, called together his
poets and hula dancers, and permitted their boisterous merriment far
into the night.
Early in the evening, while the palace grounds were a scene of
revelry, the king repaired alone to the great temple of Paakalani,
not far from the royal mansion, to consult with the high-priest and
put in motion the weird forces of the heiau for the recovery of the
Kiha-pu. He took with him the image left in the ipu, as a possible
means of assistance, and enjoined a solemn secrecy upon every kahuna
taken into the confidence of the high-priest.
The most noted kilos, seers and prophets of the temple were ordered to
apply their arts, and a kaula, inspired by incantation, was questioned
from within the anu of the inner sanctuary. The clouds were noted,
the flights of birds observed, and the dreams of drugged priests
interpreted, but nothing satisfactory was developed. Prayers were
offered to the gods, sacrifices were laid upon the altar, and the
vitals of freshly-slain pigs and fowls were carefully examined; but
the only information obtained was that the Kiha-pu had been stolen
by the chief of a band of demi-demons, or human beings controlled
by evil spirits; that it was no longer on the island of Hawaii, but
somewhere on the ocean beyond the eight Hawaiian seas; that it would
one day be recovered by a being without hands and wearing neither
mantle nor maro, but not until a cocoa-tree, planted in the next full
of the moon, should yield its first fruit, to be eaten by the king.
So far as concerned the theft of the Kiha-pu, the seers of the
temple had spoken correctly. For some months a dense forest in the
mountains back of Waipio, interspersed with marshes and patches of rank
undergrowth, had been inhabited by a small band of wild-looking men,
who boldly helped themselves to the pigs, fowls and fruits of the
neighboring farmers, and held noisy festivals almost nightly within
the gloomy recesses of their mountain retreat. They were said to be
only half-human, and capable of assuming other than their natural
forms. They had occasionally visited Waipio in parties of from two to
five, and entertained the people by telling fortunes and exhibiting
strange feats of posturing and legerdemain. In the guise of an old
woman the chief of the band had entered the royal mansion and stolen
the Kiha-pu, leaving in its place the hideous stone image mentioned;
then, as if the object of their stay near Waipio had been attained,
the entire band embarked the evening of the next day in stolen canoes
for Kauai. When safely off the coast of Hamakua the demon-chief had
defiantly wound a blast from the Kiha-pu, which the king had sought
to drown in the tumult of the hula.
Kiha departed gloomily from the temple. The loss of the sacred
trumpet afflicted him sorely. It had long been an heirloom in the
royal family of Hawaii, and its powers had been increased during his
reign. In obedience to the revelation of a kaula of great sanctity,
he had secretly deposited it in a cave near the summit of Mauna Kea
and retired to a valley below. Near the middle of the following night
a sound unearthly and terrible came echoing down the mountain-side,
followed by a hurricane which uprooted trees and tore great rocks
from their fastenings and hurled them into the gorges below. The
earth trembled as if a volcano was about to burst forth, and a ruddy
light hung about the summit. The sound ceased, the wind fell to a
whisper, and Kiha rose to his feet in the darkness and said: "It is
well. The great Lono has kept faith. He has blown the sacred trumpet,
and henceforth it will have the voice of a god!" The next morning he
repaired to the cave, and found the shell, not where he had left it,
but on the top of a huge rock with which the entrance had been for
ever closed. He raised the trumpet to his lips, and such sound as his
heart desired came forth at the bidding of his breath. He breathed a
simple call to his subjects, and it was heard the distance of a day's
journey. He gave a battle-blast, and his ears were stunned with the
mingled cries and groans of conflict. He ventured an appeal to the
unseen, and to a weird music around him rose gnomes, fairies and
grinning monsters. He returned elated to the palace, and more and
more, as its strange voices were heard, did the Kiha-pu become an
object of awe and wonder.
Although he took every possible precaution to keep from the people
all knowledge of the loss of the Kiha-pu, the king had little faith in
the assurances of the seers of the great temple that it would in time
be recovered. The conditions of its recovery were too vague, distant
and unsatisfactory to be entitled to serious consideration. However,
within a few days, with his own hands he planted a cocoa-tree near
the door of his chamber, and had a strong fence placed around it. He
visited the spot daily and saw that the ground was kept moist, and in
due time a healthy shoot came forth to reward his watchfulness. The
members of the royal household wondered at the interest taken by
the king in a simple cocoa sprout; but when it was intimated that he
was making a new experiment in planting, his care of the little tree
ceased to attract remark.
And now, while the king is anxiously watching the growth of his
cocoa-tree, and carefully guarding it from accident and blight, let
us follow the travels of the Kiha-pu. Instead of sailing for Kauai
through the island channels, the band of demi-demons took a northwest
course, intending to reach their destination without touching at any
intermediate point. The powers of the Kiha-pu were known to them,
and their chief amused himself and his graceless companions by testing
its virtues. When off the coast of Maui a blast of the trumpet brought
near Ukanipo, a terrible shark-god, sent by Kuula, the powerful but
exacting god of the fishermen of that island. On a jutting headland
could be seen a heiau dedicated to him and his wife, Hina. Hundreds of
sharks followed in the train of Ukanipo. They surrounded the canoes
and lashed the sea into foam. Separating, they formed a great circle
around the little fleet, and, swiftly approaching, drove a school of
flying-fish across the canoes, many striking the sails and falling into
the open boats and thus providing an opportune supply of favorite food.
Sighting Molokai, they thought of landing to replenish their
water-calabashes; but as the coast was rugged and the wind
unfavorable, a blast of the trumpet was blown to Kuluiau, the goddess
of rain. Instantly there was a commotion in the heavens. Black clouds
began to gather around them, and they had barely time to arrange
their kapa sheds and funnels before the rain poured down in torrents
and filled their calabashes to overflowing.
Believing the Kiha-pu would bring them anything they desired, and
returning thanks for nothing received, when off the northern coast
of Molokai, near Kaulapapa, they sounded a call to Laamaomao, god
of the winds, who since the days of Moikeha, more than two centuries
before, had occupied a cave on that island. Enraged at an appeal for
favoring winds from such a source, Laamaomao opened the mouth of the
ipu in which he kept the winds imprisoned, and turned it toward the
sea. A few minutes after a hot, fierce hurricane struck the canoes
of the miscreants, upsetting two of them and tearing their sails in
tatters. The chief had sufficient presence of mind to call through the
trumpet for Maikahulipu, the god who assists in righting upset canoes,
and the foundered boats were soon restored to their proper positions
and partially freed from water. But there was no abatement in the
violence of the wind. For more than a day and a night the canoes were
driven before it almost with the speed of a shark, until finally their
drenched and wearied occupants heard before them through the darkness
the sound of breakers against a rock-bound shore. The danger was
imminent, for paddles were useless. Raising the trumpet to his lips,
the chief called for Uhumakaikai, a powerful fish-god. No response
came, and the cliffs frowned before him as he hastily trumpeted for
Apukohai, another fish-god of Kauai, whose acts were usually cruel
and malicious. The spray of shattered waves against the rocks began
to wet the canoes, when they were seized by a force unseen, drawn
away from the cliffs, swept around a northward point, and flung by
the waves upon a sandy beach not far from Koloa.
Thus escaping with their lives, the party traveled overland and
joined a band of congenial spirits in the mountains back of Waimea,
where they remained until they were driven from the island for their
misdemeanors. Leaving Kauai, they crossed the channel, and, after
moving from place to place for some years, finally took up their
abode in a secluded spot near Waolani, on the island of Oahu.
In the possession of the Kiha-pu, Ika, the chief of the band, who
claimed it as his individual property, became cruel and dictatorial
to his companions. He esteemed himself little less than a god,
and demanded a full half of all the earnings and pilferings of his
associates. As the Kiha-pu was the cause of this exaction, one of
the friends of Ika, not daring to destroy or purloin the shell,
resolved to despoil it of its magic powers. To this end, with great
offerings of pigs and fowls, he consulted a priest of Lono at Waianae,
and was told that a tabu mark, placed somewhere on the shell with the
approval of Lono, would accomplish what was desired. As the priest
alone could place the mark upon the shell, he consented to visit
Waolani, and remain in the neighborhood until the trumpet could be
brought to him. Everything having been arranged, one evening Ika,
without great persuasion, was made drunk with awa, when the shell
was stolen and conveyed to the priest, who, with a point of flint,
hastily scratched near the outer rim a pea mark, or tabu cross,
meantime burning incense and chanting a low prayer to Lono.
"Can its powers be restored?" inquired the friend of Ika, as the
tabued trumpet was returned to him.
"Not while the tabu mark remains," replied the priest; "not until--but
no matter; its magic voices are silent now."
Before Ika awoke from his drunken stupor the Kiha-pu had been restored
to its usual place of deposit.
The next morning Ika partook of more awa, threw over his shoulders
a cape of red--a color sacred to the gods--suspended the Kiha-pu
from his neck with a cord of human hair, and went proudly forth to
receive the homage of his companions. But they refused to accord him
the honors to which he imagined he was entitled, and in his wrath he
raised the trumpet to his lips to blast them with a proclamation of his
superiority. A natural and monotonous sound issued from the shell. He
regarded it for a moment with amazement, then replaced it to his
lips and poured his breath into it with the full force of his lungs;
but its many voices were silent; its thunder-tones had been hushed.
He hastily re-entered his hut to escape the comments of his companions,
and discovered, after repeated trials, that the Kiha-pu had lost
its magic powers, and in his hands was nothing more than a simple
shell. Not doubting that it had been deprived of its virtues through
supernatural agencies, Ika visited a renowned kilo, or wizard, living
near Waialua, taking with him the Kiha-pu, which was enclosed in a
pouch of kapa, that it might not be observed. The age of the kilo was
a hundred and twenty-four years, and he was totally blind, subsisting
upon the bounty of those who sought his counsel. Finding his hut after
some difficulty, Ika presented him with a roll of kapa which he had
brought with him from Waolani, and a pig which he had stolen in the
valley below, and implored him to ascertain, if possible, the cause
of the disenchantment of the Kiha-pu. Taking the trumpet from Ika,
the kilo passed his wrinkled hands over it for some minutes, and
then retired with it behind a screen of mats, leaving his visitor
under the eye of an old crone, who had admitted him without a word
and seated herself beside the opening.
It was a long time before the kilo reappeared, and it was then to
inform Ika that little could be learned concerning the Kiha-pu. He had
employed every means known to his art, and finally appealed to Uli,
the supreme god of sorcery, when the reluctant answer came that the
Kiha-pu had been silenced by a power greater than his. "I dare not
inquire further," said the kilo, returning the trumpet.
"Will its voices ever return to it? Will your cowardice allow you to
answer that question?" inquired Ika, in a sneering tone.
"Yes," replied the kilo, with an effort restraining his wrath and
speaking calmly--"yes; its voices will be heard again in Hawaii,
among the hills that have sent back their echoes."
Ika would have questioned the kilo farther, but the old woman rose
and pointed toward the door, and with a look of disappointment he
replaced the shell in its pouch of kapa and sullenly left the hut.
Returning to Waolani, Ika abandoned his lofty pretensions and mingled
again with his companions on terms of comparative equality. This
restored him to their friendship, and, remembering the words of
the kilo, he prevailed upon a majority of them to accompany him to
Hawaii. Stealing boats at Waikiki, the party set sail for Hawaii, and
the fourth day landed at Kawaihae, in the district of Kohala. There
they abandoned their canoes, or exchanged them for food, and in
parties of four or five proceeded across the island by way of Waimea,
and soon after took possession of their old quarters in the mountains
back of Waipio, after an absence of eight years.
In all these years what had become of the cocoa-tree planted by Kiha,
with the coming of the first-fruits of which the magic trumpet was
to be restored by a being without hands and wearing neither mantle
nor maro? For seven years he had watched and nurtured its growth,
staying it against wind and storm, and guarding its every leaf and
stem. It was a vigorous and shapely tree, and its leaves were above
the touch of a battle-spear in the hands of the king. But no signs of
fruit appeared, and the heart of Kiha was troubled with the thought
that the tree might be barren, and that the gods had mocked him. The
seventh year of its growth had come and was going, when one morning
he descried among its branches three young cocoanuts, scarcely less
in size than his clenched fist. He thought it strange that he had
not seen them before, and then wondered that he had seen them at all,
for they were closely hidden among the leaves. But there they were,
to his great joy, and he watched them day by day until they attained
an age and size at which they might be eaten. He then sent for the
high-priest, and, pointing to the fruit, said:
"Behold the fruit of the tree planted by the hands of Kiha. At the
rising of the sun to-morrow I shall eat of it. Will the gods fulfil
their promise?"
"O chief!" replied the priest, "I do not see the means; but you
planted the tree; the fruit is fit for food; eat of it to-morrow,
if you will. The gods are all-powerful!"
At daylight the next morning the fruit was taken from the tree, and
the king drank the milk of the three cocoanuts, and ate of the meat
of all, first giving thanks to the gods. He then threw himself upon
his kapa-moe until the sun was well up in the heavens, when he rose
and went forth to meet his chief adviser, as was his daily custom, and
learn from his spies and other confidential officers what of importance
had transpired since the day before. The only information that seemed
to interest him was that a lawless band of strange men--apparently the
same who infested the neighborhood some years before--had reoccupied
the marshy forest in the mountains back of Waipio, and would doubtless
become a scourge to the planters in the upper part of the valley.
"It was through such a band that I was robbed of the Kiha-pu," thought
the king. "It may be that the very same have returned and brought back
with them the sacred trumpet. The ways of the gods are mysterious."
Communicating the thought to no one, Kiha despatched a discreet
messenger to reconnoitre the camp of the marauders, and in the
afternoon secretly visited the temple of Paakalani, where he learned
through the kaulas that the Kiha-pu was somewhere on the island
of Hawaii.
The sun was sinking in the west when the messenger returned, with the
information that the chief of the demon band was Ika, who, with many
of his followers, had been seen in and around Waipio many years before.
These tidings had scarcely reached the ears of the king when a
tumult was discovered at the main gate of the palace enclosure,
and a few minutes after an old man, with his arms bound behind his
back, and followed by a strange-looking dog, was being dragged by
a crowd of officers and others toward the royal mansion, in front
of which Kiha was sitting, surrounded by a number of distinguished
chiefs and titled retainers. The man was well advanced in years,
and was clad in a maro and kihei, or short mantle of kapa, while
from his neck was suspended an ivory charm rudely carved into the
form of a dog's foot. He was above the average height, and around his
stooped shoulders hung a tangled mass of grizzled hair. His beard was
unshorn, and from beneath his shaggy brows peered a pair of small
and malignant-looking eyes. He glowered savagely at his captors,
and resented anything that seemed like unnecessary force in urging
him along. The dog was a large, misshapen brute, with human-looking
ears and a bluish coat of bristling hair. It had a long, swinish tail,
and one of its eyes was white and the other green. The animal followed
closely and sullenly at its master's heels, uttering an occasional
low growl when too roughly jostled by the crowd.
When within a hundred paces of the mansion the officers halted
with their prisoner, and an attendant was despatched by the
king to ascertain the cause of the excitement. Learning that the
officers were desirous of bringing before him a man suspected of
pilfering from the royal estates, the king consented to listen to
the accusation in person, and ordered the prisoner to appear in his
presence. Approaching, the old man prostrated himself at the feet of
Kiha, and the dog, giving voice to a dismal howl, crouched upon the
earth, laid his nose between his paws, and bent his green eye upon
the king. Kiha regarded both for a moment with an amused expression;
but there was something demoniac in the appearance of the dog, and
after catching a glimpse of it he could scarcely remove his gaze from
the green eye that glared upon him.
Commanding one of the officers to speak for himself and the rest,
that the matter might be briefly determined, the king was informed
that the prisoner was a native of the island of Kauai, and some months
before had landed with his dog in the district of Kau; that he was
an awa thief and had trained his fiendish-looking dog to do his
pilfering; that the animal possessed the intelligence of a kahuna
and the instincts of a demon, and could almost steal the mantle
from a man's shoulders without detection; that the prisoner had been
driven for his thefts from Kau to Kona, and thence to Hamakua; that
he had been living for some months past at Kikaha, where his dog,
Puapua-lenalena, as he was called, had become noted for his thefts;
that awa had been missed by the luna of one of the king's estates in
the upper part of the valley; that the night before a watch had been
placed, and the demon dog had been detected in the act of leaving the
royal plantation with a quantity of awa in his mouth; that the animal
had been followed to the hut of his master, who was found asleep
under the influence of awa, which the dog had doubtless ground with
his teeth into an intoxicating drink, since on being aroused the man
denied that he had either stolen or chewed it; and, finally, after
some resistance, the prisoner had been brought to Waipio, followed
by his dog, and was now before the king for examination and sentence.
After the officer had concluded his account of the misdemeanors of
the prisoner, by permission of the king the old man rose to his feet,
and was about to speak in his own defence when Kiha, turning his gaze
with an effort from the green eye of the dog, abruptly inquired:
"What manner of animal is this, and how came he in your possession?"
"O king!" replied the prisoner, "the dog was given to me by my uncle,
a distinguished kaula of Kauai, and it is believed that he was cast
up from the sea."
"Enough!" exclaimed the king, with a gesture of impatience. "Take
them both to the temple of Paakalani," he continued, addressing a
chief with a yellow cape and helmet, "and there await my coming."
The prisoner and his green-eyed companion were removed to the temple,
and in the dusk of the evening Kiha proceeded thither alone. Entering
the royal retreat with which the heiau enclosure was provided, he sent
for the high-priest, and soon after for the prisoner and his dog. They
were conducted to the apartment, and the door was closed, a kukui
torch held at another opening throwing a glare of light into the room.
The king sat for a few breaths in silence, while the priest was
scanning the prisoner and his strange companion. Finally, pointing
to the dog, Kiha turned to the priest and said:
"A wonderful animal--a being without hands, and wearing neither mantle
nor maro!"
"True," returned the priest, recalling the promise of the gods;
"and should he be the messenger, his services must not be slighted."
"Listen," said the king, addressing the prisoner. "I have faith
that this animal can do me a service. In a marshy forest in the
mountains back of Waipio a band of conjuring outlaws have lately found
a retreat. A magic shell of great power, stolen from me many years
ago, is now in the possession of some one of them--probably of Ika,
their chief. Can you prompt this animal to recover the Kiha-pu?"
"Perhaps," replied the prisoner.
"Then do so," returned the king, "and I will not only give you the
life you have forfeited, but will see that you are provided henceforth
with all the awa you have an appetite to consume."
With these words of the king the dog rose to his feet, uttered a
growling sound which seemed to be half-human, and approached the door.
"No instructions are required," said the old man; "he understands,
and is ready to start upon his errand."
"Then send him forth at once," returned the king; "the night is dark
and will favor him."
The door was opened, and like a flash the dog sprang from the room,
leaped the closed gate of the outer wall, and in the darkness dashed
up the valley toward the mountains.
"I will await his return here," said the king, looking inquiringly
toward the prisoner.
"He will be back a little beyond the middle of the night," replied
the old man.
"With the Kiha-pu?" inquired the king.
"Either with or without it," was the answer.
Leaving the prisoner in the custody of the high-priest and his
attendants, Kiha walked out into the starlight. His face was feverish,
and the kiss of the trade-winds was cool. The heiau of Paakalani
was a puhonua, or sacred place of refuge--one of the two on the
island of Hawaii--and he wondered whether, under any circumstances,
he could properly demand the life of the prisoner were he to claim
the protection of the temple. Had he voluntarily sought refuge in
the puhonua, there would have been no doubt; but as he was forcibly
taken there by royal order, his right to exemption from seizure was
a question of doubt.
Dismissing the subject with the reflection that the life or death
of the prisoner was of little consequence, Kiha strolled toward the
inner temple and reverently bowed before an image of Lono near the
entrance. Remains of recent sacrifices still smelt rank upon the altar,
and scores of gods of almost every grade and function looked grimly
down upon him from the walls. Dim lights were seen in some of the
quarters of the priests constructed against the outer wall of the
enclosure, and a torch was burning at the main entrance.
As the evening wore on the silence of the heiau was broken only by
the hooting of the sacred owls from the walls of the inner temple,
and Kiha threw himself at the foot of a pepper-tree, and was soon
wafted out into the boundless sea of dreams.
After leaping the gate of the heiau the dog started up the valley
with the speed of the wind. As he swept past the thatched huts in his
course, those who caught sight of him for an instant were sure that
they beheld a demon, and the dogs that pursued speedily returned,
to crouch whiningly behind their masters.
Reaching the upper end of the valley, the dog followed an ascending
trail through a steep ravine coming down from the northward, and in
a short time, considering the distance traveled, stood snuffing the
air at the verge of the forest within which the outlaws had found
a temporary refuge. Distant lights were seen flickering through
occasional openings among the trees and tangled undergrowth, and at
intervals strange voices, as if of song and merriment, were heard.
For some time the dog remained motionless, and then stealthily
crept into the forest. What form he assumed, how he learned of
the hiding-place of the Kiha-pu, and through what means he escaped
discovery, are details which tradition has left to conjecture. It is
told only that he succeeded in finding in the unguarded hut of Ika,
seizing in his mouth, and escaping undiscovered from the forest with,
the sacred trumpet.
So adroitly had the theft been committed that it seemed that the
dog would surely escape without detection; but in plunging down the
steep ravine through which he had finally ascended to the forest,
he dropped the Kiha-pu, breaking from the rim a piece embracing the
small pea or tabu mark of silence placed upon it by the kaula of
Waianae. In an instant the liberated voices of the trumpet poured
forth in a blast which echoed through the hills and started the
night-birds to screaming.
The sound was heard by the reveling demi-demons of the forest, and,
ascertaining that the shell had been stolen, they poured down the
mountain-side in pursuit of the plunderer. Their speed was something
more than human, and the darkness did not seem to impede their
steps. From time to time the voice of the trumpet came back to them;
but it grew fainter and fainter in the distance, until they finally
abandoned the chase as hopeless, Ika himself suggesting that the
Kiha-pu, with its voices in some manner restored to it, had taken
wings and escaped.
The king slept under the pepper-tree until past the middle of the
night, when the hooting of an owl almost at his ear awoke him, and he
rose and re-entered the royal retreat, where he found the high-priest
with a number of his attendants, and the prisoner intently listening
at the half-open door.
Kiha was about to inquire the time of the night--for he had neglected
to look at the stars before entering--when a noise was heard at the
outer gate. The prisoner stepped forward and threw back the door,
and the next moment the dog sprang into the room, laid the Kiha-pu
at the feet of the king, and then dropped dead beside it.
The overjoyed king raised and placed the trumpet to his lips, and
with a swelling heart roused the people of Waipio with a blast such as
they had not heard for more than eight years. Liberating the prisoner,
who was grief-stricken at the death of his dog, Kiha ordered that he
henceforth be fed from the royal table.
Winding another blast upon the trumpet, the king returned to the
palace, around which were congregated hundreds of excited people. Among
them were chiefs in yellow capes and helmets, and warriors armed with
spear and battle-axe. Summoning his alii-koa, or principal military
leader, a brief council was held, followed by the sending forth of
the plumed aids of the king, and the speedy concentration within the
palace grounds of a picked body of three or four hundred warriors
armed with short javelins and knives for close encounter.
The little army moved rapidly but noiselessly up the valley, and at
early daylight surrounded and attacked the camp of the demon band. A
desperate hand-to-hand conflict ensued; but the miscreants were
overpowered, and all slain with the exception of Ika and two others,
who were reserved alive for the altar.
On the evening following, in the midst of great rejoicing, the Kiha-pu
was rededicated to Lono, and Ika and his companions were slain
without the walls and sacrificed, with a host of other offerings,
in the temple of Paakalani.
II.
The reign of Liloa was as peaceful as that of Kiha, his distinguished
father. He did not lack ability, either as a civil or military leader,
however his pleasant and mirthful ways may have impressed to the
contrary. He was fond of good living, fine apparel and comely women;
yet he held the sceptre firmly, and was prompt to punish wrong-doing in
his chiefs or infringement of any of his prerogatives. Nevertheless,
his heart was kind, and he frequently forgave the humble who had
crossed his shadow, and the thoughtless who had violated the spirit
of a royal tabu.
As he was distracted neither by domestic disturbance nor wars
with neighboring kings, Liloa made frequent visits to the several
districts of the island, sometimes with an imposing retinue of
chiefs and retainers, but quite as often with no more than two or
three trusty attendants. Sometimes he traveled incognito, visiting
suspected district chiefs to observe their methods of government,
and, when occasion for rebuke occurred, to their great confusion
making himself known to them.
Near the close of the year 1460, before the annual festival of Lono,
which inaugurated the beginning of a new year, Liloa went with a
large and brilliant party, in gaily-decked double canoes carrying
the royal colors, from Waipio to Koholalele, in Hamakua, to assist
in the reconsecration of the old temple of Manini, the restoration
and enlargement of which had just been completed. He took with him
his high-priest, Laeanui, a band of musicians and dancers, and his
chief navigator and astrologer, and the heiau was consecrated with
unusual display. Laeanui recited the kuawili--the long prayer of
consecration--and twenty-four human victims were laid upon the altar.
Ordering the party to return in the double canoes without him,
Liloa resolved to make the journey overland to Waipio with a single
attendant; and it is quite probable that it was something more
than accident that prompted the royal traveler to deviate from the
shortest path to Waipio, and tarry for some hours in a pleasant grove
of palms near Kealakaha, where dwelt with her old father one of the
most beautiful maidens in all Hamakua.
The name of the girl was Akahia-kuleana. She was tall and slender,
and her dark hair, which rippled down in wavelets, shrouded her bare
shoulders like a veil. Her eyes were soft, and her voice was like
the music of a mountain rivulet, and when her bosom was bedecked with
leis of fragrant blossoms it seemed that they must have grown there,
so much did she appear to be a part of them.
Although in humble life, Akahia was really of royal blood, since six
generations back her paternal ancestor was Kalahuamoku, a half-brother
to Kalapana, from whom Liloa drew his strain. She knew the rank of
her royal visitor, and felt honored that he should praise her beauty;
and when he kissed her lips at parting he left with her his maro and
the ivory clasp of his necklace, at the same time whispering words
in her ear which in a generation later transferred the sceptre of
Hawaii from the direct line to humbler but worthier hands.
Before the trade-winds came and went again the gentle Akahia, unwedded,
became a mother. At first her father frowned upon the child; but it
was a strong and healthy boy, who looked as if he might some day wield
with uncommon vigor a laau-palau if not a battle-axe, and he soon
became reconciled to the presence of the little intruder. In those
days, it is proper to mention, such events occasioned but little
comment, and entailed upon the mother neither social ostracism nor
especial reproach.
The child was named Umi, and, to give it a stronger protector than
herself, Akahia became the wife of her cousin Maakao, a strong,
rough man, who had always shown great affection for her, and who felt
honored in becoming the husband of one who might have taken her choice
among many.
The father of Akahia cultivated a kalo patch larger than his
necessities really required, and was abundantly supplied with pigs,
poultry, yams, bananas, cocoanuts and breadfruit, which he was at all
times enabled to exchange for fish, crabs, limpets and other products
of the sea.
All land titles at that time vested either in the sovereign or the
chiefs subject to him, and the producer was frequently required
to return to his landlord a full third or half of all his labor
yielded. Sometimes the land-owner was more liberal with his tenants;
but quite as often he took to the extent of his need or greed, with
no one to challenge the injustice of his demands.
But the bit of land occupied by the father of Akahia was part of a
large tract reserved for the benefit of the king, and because of the
alii blood with which he was credited, but of which he made no boast,
the rent he returned was merely nominal.
When Umi was about ten years of age the father of Akahia died, leaving
his little estate to his daughter. She had two brothers living, both
older than herself. But the cultivation of the soil was not congenial
to them, and, as there had been no wars of moment in Hawaii for nearly
two generations, one of them, who had been a dreamer from his youth,
had been inducted into the service of the gods by the high-priest
Laeanui, to whom Liloa had given in perpetuity the possession of
Kekaha, in the district of Kona, and was otherwise influential;
while the second brother, on reaching manhood, had gone with spear
and sling to Maui, and risen to distinction in the military service
of the moi of that island.
So Akahia and her husband continued to occupy unmolested the old
plantation. But the agents who collected the revenues of the king
were less liberal with Maakao than they had been with the father
of his wife, and he was compelled to make the same rent returns as
other royal tenants. Nor this alone. A portion of their land had been
given to another, embracing a little grove of hawane or cocoa-trees,
some of which, it was averred, had been planted by the stewards of
Pili nearly four centuries before, and their depleted stocks of pigs
and fowls ceased to be the envy of their neighbors.
This harsh dealing with Akahia and her husband, it is needless to
say, was done without the knowledge of the king; but they feared to
complain, lest they might be despoiled of the little left them, and
deemed it prudent to suffer in silence rather than arouse the wrath
of an agent of whose powers they knew not the extent.
There were other little mouths to feed besides Umi's, and, as the
years came and went with their scant harvests, Maakao became more
and more discontented; but, with a hope in her heart of which Maakao
knew nothing, Akahia toiled on without complaint. Year by year she
saw Umi developing into manhood, and noted that in thought, habit
and bearing he was different from others.
Umi loved his mother and was not unkind to Maakao; but he spent much
of his time by the sea-shore where the great waves thundered against
the cliffs, and in the hills where, among the ohia and sandal trees,
the trade-winds whispered to him of the unknown. He would climb to
the crown of the tallest cocoa-tree because there was danger in it,
and buffet the fiercest waves in his frail canoe; but neither threat
nor persuasion could ever induce him to delve in the slime of the
kalo patch or plant a row of yams. He would bring fish from the sea
and fruits from the mountains, but could not be prevailed upon to
till the soil. He fashioned spears of cunning workmanship, and from
the teeth of sharks made knives of double edge, but to the implements
of husbandry he gave but little note.
At the age of sixteen Umi had reached almost the proportions of a
man. His limbs were strong, his features manly and handsome, his
eyes clear and full of expression, and in athletic sports and the
use of arms he had no equal among his companions. His habits brought
around him but few friends, yet his kindness to all left no pretext
for enmity; and while some said he absented himself from home in a
spirit of idleness, others shook their heads and ventured the opinion
that he visited the recesses of the wooded hills alone to converse with
the kini-akua and learn wisdom from the gods. And his strange conduct,
it may well be imagined, was made the subject of frequent discussion in
the neighborhood, for Maakao complained continually of his idleness,
and but for the intercessions of the mother, who alone was able to
account for his peculiarities, would have closed his doors against him.
But Umi had a few friends to extol his goodness and defend him against
unkind insinuation, and among them were Piimaiwaa and Omaukamau, youths
of about his own age, and Kulamea, the younger and only sister of the
latter. From childhood these friends had been his frequent companions,
and as he grew to manhood, strong-limbed, resolute and gentle, they
learned to regard him with a love prepared for any sacrifice.
Kulamea was a bright-eyed, dusky little fairy, who often accompanied
Umi and her brother in their rambles. They petted her until she
became an exacting little tyrant, and then Umi, at her command,
made toys for her, climbed the tallest cocoa-trees, and scaled the
steepest cliffs in search of flowers and berries that she liked;
and, in return for these kindnesses, what, at the age of fifteen,
could Kulamea do but love almost to idolatry the brave and gentle
companion who had developed into a splendid manhood? And what could
Umi do at twenty but return in kind the devotion of one now ripening
into a charming womanhood, whose childish friendship was the brightest
sunshine that had ever flecked the landscape of his dreamy life?
With a feeling of uneasiness Akahia watched Umi's growing love for
Kulamea, and when at twenty he would have married her, much to the
gratification of Maakao, she kindly but firmly said to her son:
"Be not in haste to fetter your free limbs. Be patient, as I have
been for twenty years. Kulamea is worthy--but wait."
"Why wait?" exclaimed Maakao, suddenly appearing. He had been listening
without the door. "Why should he wait?" he continued; "he has all his
life been idle, and it is time that he should have a house of his own."
"You have spoken well!" replied Umi, drawing himself up to his
full height, and looking scornfully down upon the husband of his
mother--"you have spoken well, Maakao! It is time, indeed, that I
stopped this dreaming! I will never eat food again under your roof. Now
get you to your kalo patch; you will find occupation there befitting
you! I will seek other means of living!"
With these scornful words Umi strode haughtily from the house. Enraged
at the insult, Maakao seized a laau-palau, or large kalo-knife,
and sprang after him. Umi turned and reached for his pahoa. Maakao
raised his weapon to strike, but it dropped to the earth as if a
paralysis had seized his arm as Akahia sprang before him, exclaiming:
"Do not dare to strike! He is not your son; he is your chief! Down
on your knees before him!"
To the dismay of Maakao and profound astonishment of Umi, Akahia then
revealed the secret of Umi's birth, and, taking from their hiding-place
the keepsakes left with her by Liloa, said, as she handed them to
her son:
"Your father is king of Hawaii. Go to him in person and place these
mementoes before him. Tell him Akahia-kuleana returns them to him by
the hands of his and her son, who is worthy of him, and he will own
you to be the child of his love. He is noble and will hold sacred
his royal pledge. This should have been done long ago, but I could
not bring my heart to part with you. Go, and may the gods be your
protection and your guide!"
The strange revelation was soon known throughout the neighborhood,
and Umi prepared for his journey to Waipio. How should he appear
before Liloa, whose will was law and whose frown was death? In what
guise should he seek the presence of his royal father?
"As an alii-kapu!" answered Akahia, proudly. Then from an ipu she
brought forth a plumed helmet and cape of the feathers of the oo,
which she had secretly fabricated with her own hands, and placed them
upon the head and shoulders of her son.
To Kulamea alone was the news of what had befallen Umi unwelcome. She
would have been more than content to share with him the common lot;
but now that he was about to be recognized as the son of the great
Liloa, she felt that they were soon to part for ever. Other alliances
would be found for him, and he would forget the humble playmate of his
youth, who loved him, not because his father was a king, but because
they had grown up together and neither of them could help it. So when,
two days after, Umi started overland for Waipio, accompanied by his
two trusty friends, Piimaiwaa and Omaukamau, Kulamea secreted herself
to avoid the agony of a parting farewell from Umi; but he found her,
nevertheless, and made her happy by kissing and telling her that,
whatever might be his future, she should share it; and she believed
him, for he had never deceived her.
Umi and his companions arrived in Waipio valley at nightfall. There
they remained during the night, and the next morning crossed the little
stream of Wailoa, near which was the royal mansion. There Umi left
his companions and proceeded alone to the palace enclosure. His head
was adorned with a helmet surmounted with white and scarlet plumes,
and from his broad shoulders hung a cape of yellow feathers, such as an
alii alone was permitted to wear, while around his loins was fastened
the maro left with Akahia by the king, and the ivory clasp ornamented
a necklace of rare and beautiful shells. In his hand he bore an ihe,
or javelin, of unusual weight and exquisite finish, and many eyes
followed him as he approached the palace; for, although a stranger,
it was manifest from his dress and bearing that he did not belong to
the makaainana, or common people.
His mother had instructed him to seek the presence of the king in
the most direct manner that occasion presented, and without asking
the permission or assistance of any one, fearing, no doubt, that,
to gain admission to the royal hale, he might exhibit and in some
manner lose possession of the sole evidences of his paternity, and
thus receive the punishment of an impostor. He therefore passed by,
without seeking to enter, the gate of the enclosure, around which were
lounging a score or more of sentinels and retainers, and, proceeding
to the rear of the mansion, leaped over the high wall immediately
back and within a hundred paces of the private apartments of the king.
Having thus violated a rule of royal etiquette, the penalty of which
was death, unless mitigated by satisfactory explanation, Umi grasped
his ihe firmly, determined, should he be opposed, to fight his way to
the royal presence. It was a desperate resolution, but he had faith
in himself, and was without fear.
His movements had been watched as he passed the gate of the enclosure
without a word, and as he sprang over the wall he found a number of
uplifted spears between him and the entrances to the mansion. Nerving
himself for the worst, he strode past the interposing weapons,
strongly hurling their points aside when too closely presented, and
in a moment stood at the back entrance of the palace, through which
no one but of the royal household was permitted to enter.
This audacity saved him from more determined opposition, since it
seemed incredible that any one not possessing the confidence of the
king would take such double hazard of his life. Stepping within the
entrance, Umi turned, and, with a half-amused smile at the baffled
guard now clamoring around the door, struck the handle of his javelin
firmly into the ground, and walked unarmed into the presence of
the king.
As Umi entered unannounced, the king had just finished his morning
repast, and was lounging on a couch of many folds of kapa, unattended
except by his spittoon-bearer and two half-grown boys with kahilis.
Astounded at the intrusion, the king rose to a sitting posture, and,
with a frown upon his face, was about to speak, when Umi stepped to
the couch and boldly seated himself in the lap of Liloa.
Although past sixty, the king still retained a goodly share of his
earlier vigor, and, throwing Umi from his knees, angrily exclaimed:
"Audacious slave! how dare you!"
Umi rose to his feet, and, standing proudly before the king with
folded arms, replied:
"The son of Liloa dare do anything!"
For a moment the king did not speak. He looked into the face of
the undaunted young stranger, and noted that it was noble; and then
his thoughts went back to Kealakaha, and to the fair young girl of
better than common blood whom he had met there many years before
while journeying to Waipio after consecrating the temple of Manini,
and finally, almost as in a dream, to the pledge he had given and the
tokens he had left with her. When all this came back to him he cast
his eyes over the comely youth, and beheld his maro around the loins
of Umi, and the ivory clasp of his necklace upon his breast. He could
scarcely doubt, yet, as if he had recollected nothing, seen nothing,
he calmly but kindly said:
"Young man, you claim to be my son. If so, tell me of your mother,
and of the errand that brings you here."
Umi bowed and answered: "My mother, O king, is Akahia-kuleana,
of Kealakaha, and my years were twenty at the last ripening of the
ohias. For the first time, four days ago, she told me I was the son of
the king of Hawaii, and to take to him this maro and this ivory clasp,
and he would not disown me. You are Liloa, the honored sovereign of
Hawaii. I am Umi, the humble son of Akahia-kuleana. From the hands
of my mother I have brought to you this maro and this ornament of
bone. If I am your son, seat me beside you on the kapa; if not,
order my body to the heiau as a sacrifice to the gods."
There was a struggle in the breast of the king, and his eyes were
bent upon the bold youth with an expression of pride and tenderness
as he said:
"How did you gain admission here alone and unannounced?"
"By leaping over the wall of the pahale and beating down the spears
of your guards," replied Umi modestly.
"It was a dangerous undertaking," suggested the king, feigning a
frown which wrinkled into a smile upon his lips; "had you no fear?"
"I am still young and have not yet learned to fear," returned Umi,
with an air of self-reproach.
"Such words could come alone from a heart ennobled by the blood of
Pilikaeae! You are indeed the son of Liloa!" exclaimed the king, with
emotion, stretching forth his hand and seating Umi beside him. "Not
these tokens alone but your face and bearing show it." And he put his
arms around the neck of his son and kissed him, and ordered a repast,
which they ate together, while Umi related to his royal father the
simple events of his humble life.
As the strange entrance of Umi into the royal mansion had attracted
much attention, many of the privileged retainers and officers of
the court soon gathered in and around the palace; and the rank
and possible purposes of the visitor were undergoing an earnest
discussion--especially after it was learned that he was breakfasting
with the king--when Hakau, the only recognized son of Liloa and
heir-presumptive to the throne, suddenly appeared and sought the
presence of his royal father.
There was a dark scowl on the face of Hakau on entering the room and
observing a stranger in close conversation with the king and eating
from the same vessels, nor did it disappear when Liloa presented
Umi to him as his own son and Hakau's half-brother. Umi rose and
frankly offered his brother the hand of friendship and affection;
but the grasp and recognition of Hakau were cold, and when he was
invited to sit down and partake of meat with his newly-found brother
he excused himself with the falsehood that he had just risen from
his morning meal. After a few words with the king, during which he
closely scrutinized Umi's handsome face and manly form, Hakau withdrew,
leaving no token in word or look of any feeling of joy at the meeting.
Although the kings of the Hawaiian group at that time usually had from
two to six wives--either marriages of the heart or alliances with the
families of neighboring kings to strengthen their dynasties--tradition
has given to Liloa but one recognized wife. She was Pinea, a Maui
chiefess of family distinction, who gave to Liloa a son and one
daughter--Hakau and Kapukini. Hakau had reached his thirtieth year and
had married the daughter of the chief and high-priest Pae. They had
one child, a daughter, who had been given the name of her grandmother,
Pinea. Kapukini had not quite reached womanhood, and was the idol of
the court.
Hakau was a large, well-visaged man, but was haughty, selfish and
cruel. Having been, until the sudden appearance of Umi at the court,
the only recognized son of Liloa, his caprices had been humored
until his heartlessness and tyranny had become almost a by-word in
Hamakua. But the truth seems to be that he was naturally vicious and
barbarous, and tradition speaks of no greater tyrant among all the
rulers of Hawaii. Heedless of the rights of property, without return
he took from others whatever he coveted, and in an insanity of pride
and criminal envy caused to be secretly slain or disfigured such as
were reputed to surpass him in personal beauty. Without giving note
or credence to the many tales of barbarism with which tradition has
connected his name, it is doubtless true that his cruelty and contempt
for the rights of his subjects rendered him an unfit successor of
the gentle and sagacious Liloa, under whose reign the humblest were
protected, and peace and prosperity prevailed throughout the six
districts of the island.
No further explanation of Hakau's freezing reception of Umi is
required. He was envious of his handsome face and noble bearing,
and hated him because of the love with which his father manifestly
regarded him. But Hakau's feelings in the matter were not consulted,
and the day following Umi was conducted to the temple of Paakalani
in great pomp, where, to the solemn music of chant and sacred drum,
the officiating priest with the newly-found son of the king went
through the form of oki-ka-piko--a ceremony attending the birth of
the children of royalty--and Umi was formally and publicly recognized
as his son by the king of Hawaii.
Hakau was compelled, with great bitterness of heart, to witness
this ceremony, but was too discreet to openly manifest his
displeasure. Returning to the palace, Umi was formally presented to
the royal household, and heralds proclaimed his rank and investiture
of the tabus to which he was entitled.
Although the mother of Hakau, Pinea received him kindly, and Kapukini
was more than delighted with her new and handsome brother. She clung
to his hand, and artlessly declared that Hakau was cross with her
and that she had prayed to the gods to send her another brother,
just such a one as Umi, and they had done so.
Soon after a great feast was given by the king in honor of the new
heir, and all the leading chiefs in the kingdom were invited to come
and pay their respects to him. Twelve hundred chiefs were present, and
the feasting and rejoicing continued for three days, interspersed with
games and athletic sports, in which Umi shone with great splendor. In
feats of strength and the skilful handling of arms he had few equals
in all that great and distinguished gathering, and in conversations
with the old he exhibited so much wisdom and prudence of speech that
they wondered who had been his tutors; and when they learned that he
had been taught by no one and that the greater part of his young life
had been passed in solitude, some of them thought the gods must have
instructed him, and all admitted that he was a worthy son of Liloa
and an honor to the royal line.
Umi was thus firmly established at the court of his royal father,
and adequate revenues were set apart for his proper maintenance and
that of a retinue befitting his high rank. His friends Piimaiwaa
and Omaukamau, who were overjoyed at his good fortune, entered his
service as his personal and confidential friends, and thenceforth
became identified with his career, always appearing as the most
faithful and self-sacrificing of his adherents.
In a week after his arrival at Waipio, Umi sent Omaukamau back to
their old home with news of his recognition by the king. He also
bore an order enlarging the area of Maakao and Akahia's possessions,
and relieving them from rent and all other tenant charges. Nor did he
forget Kulamea. He sent her a little present in token of his love,
and word that, although it could not safely be so then, some day in
the future she should be nearer to him, even though he might become the
king of Hawaii. The token was dear to her, and dearer still his words,
for she knew the heart of Umi and did not doubt; and thenceforth
she lived and patiently waited for him, keeping her own secret,
and firmly saying "no" to the many who sought her in marriage.
Umi's affability and intelligence soon made him a great favorite at
the court and steadily endeared him to his father. But in proportion
as he grew in the favor of others Hakau's hatred for him increased,
and but for the fear of his father would have manifested itself in
open hostility; but Liloa, who was growing old and feeble through a
cureless malady, had not yet designated his successor, and Hakau deemed
it prudent to make no outward showing of the intense envy and dislike
of his brother which he was secretly nursing, and which he resolved
should be gratified when the reins of government passed into his hands.
In a little less than two years after the recognition of Umi the black
kapa covered Liloa. When he felt the end approaching he called his
two sons before him, and publicly gave the charge of the government
and title of moi to Hakau, and the custody of the gods and temples
to Umi. "You are to be the ruler of Hawaii," he said to Hakau,
"and Umi is to be your counselor."
There was grief all over the kingdom when the death of Liloa became
known, for he was greatly beloved; and, that his bones might never be
desecrated, the high-priest Pae, whose daughter Hakau had married,
secretly conveyed them to the Kona coast, and consigned them to the
deep waters off Kekaha.
This was in accordance with the custom of the time--in fact, with
the custom of earlier and later years, for the resting-place of
the bones of Kamehameha I., who died in 1819, is unknown. A story
survives that the remains of this eminent chief were entombed in
the sea, but the more popular belief is that they were secretly
conveyed to a cave or other place prepared for them in the hills
back of Kailua, on the island of Hawaii, and there hidden for ever
from mortal gaze. In connection with this belief it is stated that
just before daylight on the morning following the night of the death
of Kamehameha, one of his nearest friends, while the guard had been
removed to afford the opportunity, took the bones of his beloved
chief upon his shoulders, and, alone and unseen, conveyed them to
their secret sepulchre. Returning, he encountered two natives who
were preparing for the labors of the day. Fearing that he had been
followed, he inquired whether they had observed any one passing toward
the hills that morning. They declared that they had seen no one. Had
they answered differently he would have slain them both on the spot,
that their secret might have died with them.
The name of this chief was Hoolulu. He has been dead for many years;
and although he left children, to one of whom the secret may have been
imparted, in accordance with native custom in such matters, it is now
believed that all knowledge of the depository of the remains of the
first Kamehameha is lost. In 1853, when the necessity of hiding the
bones of distinguished chiefs was no longer recognized, Kamehameha
III. visited Kailua and almost prevailed upon Hoolulu to point
out the spot. They even started toward the hills for that purpose,
but, as quite a number of persons were observed to be following,
Hoolulu declined to proceed, and could never after be induced to
divulge anything.
So fearful were the ancient chiefs of Hawaii that some indignity might
be offered to their remains after death--for instance, that charmed
fish-hooks or arrow-points for shooting mice might be made from their
bones--that they were invariably hidden by their surviving friends,
sometimes in the depths of the ocean, and quite as frequently,
perhaps, in the dark recesses of volcanic caverns, with which the
islands abound.
Immediately after Kamehameha I. had breathed his last his friend
Kalaimoku assembled the principal chiefs around the body to consider
what should be done with it. In his great admiration for the dead
chief one of them solemnly said: "This is my thought: we will eat
him raw!" But the body was left to Liholiho, son and successor of
the dead king who, with his queen, Kamamalu, died while on a visit
to England in 1824.
The bones of no Hawaiian chief were ever more securely hidden than
were those of the distinguished alii-nui Kualii, who ruled with a
strong arm the turbulent factions of the island of Oahu some two
centuries back. After the flesh had been stripped from the bones
they were given in charge of a trusty friend to be secreted, and most
effectually did he accomplish the delicate task assigned him. He had
them pulverized to a fine powder, which he mixed with the poi to be
served at the funeral feast to be given to the principal chiefs the day
following. At the close of the repast, when asked if he had secreted
the bones of the dead chief to his satisfaction, he grimly replied:
"Hidden, indeed, are the bones of Kualii! They have been deposited
in a hundred living sepulchres. You have eaten them!"
But we are wandering somewhat from our story. The day after the death
of Liloa, Hakau was ceremoniously invested with supreme authority,
while the high-priest Laeanui gave formal recognition to Umi as
guardian of the gods and temples. Both events were celebrated with
display and sacrifice; but it is said that the scream of the alae, a
sacred bird of evil omen, was heard around the palace all through the
night that Hakau first slept there as king, and that as Umi entered
the temple of Paakalani to assume the guardianship of the gods the
head of the great image of Lono, near the door of the inner temple,
nodded approvingly.
Independently of Umi's position as prime minister or royal adviser,
his authority as guardian of the gods and temples was second only to
that of the king, and Hakau chafed under a bequest that had clothed
his brother with a power little less than his own and placed him so
near the throne. The consequence was that he seldom invited him to his
councils, and secretly sought to cast discredit upon his acts as the
nominal head of the priesthood. But Umi bore himself so nobly that
Hakau's venom brought no poison to him, and the petty persecutions
to which he was subjected not only failed to injure him, but actually
added to his popularity with those who had felt the barbarity of his
brother, whose first acts on coming to power were to dismiss, disrate
and impoverish many of the old and faithful servants and counselors
of his father, and surround himself with a party of unscrupulous
retainers as cruel and treacherous as himself.
Enraged that his secret and cowardly slanders of Umi failed to bring
him into disrespect, Hakau's hostility began to assume a more open
and brutal form. He publicly reviled his brother for his low birth,
and assumed not only that Liloa was not his father, but that his
mother was a woman without any distinction of blood.
Unable to bear these taunts, and not deeming it prudent to precipitate
an open rupture with his brother, Umi quietly left Waipio with his two
friends Piimaiwaa and Omaukamau, and, traveling through Hamakua without
stopping at Kealakaha, where dwelt his mother and Kulamea, proceeded
at once to Waipunalei, near Laupahoehoe, in the district of Hilo, where
he concluded to remain for a time and await the development of events.
To support themselves Umi and his two friends devoted a portion
of their time to fishing, bird-catching and the making of canoes,
spears and other weapons; and although the rank of Umi was studiously
concealed, his intelligence, skilful use of arms and general bearing
could not fail to attract attention and excite the curiosity of
his humble associates. Not unfrequently strangers would prostrate
themselves before him, so profoundly were they impressed with his
appearance, but he declined to accept their homage and smilingly
assured them that he was born and reared, like themselves, in humble
life. As a further precaution against recognition, he carefully avoided
the prominent chiefs of the district, deeming it probable that some
of them had seen him in Waipio, or even witnessed the ceremonies
attending his acceptance as the son of Liloa.
III.
It was not destined that Umi should remain long unknown among the
hills of Hilo. His sudden disappearance and continued absence from the
court had excited apprehensions of foul dealing, and Hakau himself,
who had thus far failed in his efforts to discover the retreat of
Umi, began to fear that he was somewhere secretly planning a deep
scheme of retaliation. But Umi had as yet marked out for himself no
definite plan of action. He smarted under the persecutions of Hakau,
and did not doubt that, sooner or later, he would triumph over them
and be restored to the rights and privileges bequeathed to him by his
royal father; but exactly when and how all this was to be accomplished
were problems which he expected the future to assist him in solving.
And he was not disappointed. The future for which he had patiently
waited was near at hand, and he was about to become the central
figure of a struggle which would test to their utmost his courage
and ability. One day, while strolling alone in the hills back of
Waipunalei, there suddenly appeared before him a man of stupendous
proportions. Umi regarded the object for a moment with amazement, and
was about to speak when the monster dropped on his knees before him. In
that position he was a head and shoulders above Umi, and the spear
in his hand was of the measure in length of ten full steps. Although
more than eleven feet in height, he was well proportioned, and the
expression of his face was intelligent and gentle. He was young in
years, yet his hair fell to his shoulders and was streaked with gray.
"Who are you, and why do you kneel to me?" said Umi, looking up into
the face of the giant with a feeling of awe. "If I had your limbs I
would kneel alone to the gods."
"I am Maukaleoleo, of Kona, and the most unfortunate of men," replied
the monster in a ponderous but not unpleasant tone. "My mother was
Nuuheli; but she is now dead, and, having grown to the height of the
trees, I live in the mountains among them, for men seem to fear and
hate me, and women and children scream with fright at my approach."
"And who was your father?" inquired Umi, kindly.
"As he died when I was young," returned the giant, "and that was more
than thirty years ago, I know not, except that his name was Mano,
and that he claimed lineage from Kahaukapu, the grandfather of the
great Liloa, whose unworthy son now rules in Hawaii."
"Hist!" exclaimed Umi, reaching up and placing his hand gently upon
the shoulder of the monster. "There is death in such words, even to a
man of Maukaleoleo's girth. The trees are listeners as well as myself."
"The trees will say nothing," was the reply, "for they often
hear such words of Hakau. But why should I fear death? I was not
born to be slain for speaking the truth. Listen, and then tell me
why Maukaleoleo should fear anything that is human. When a boy a
stranger met me one day on the cliffs overlooking the sea, where I
was searching for the feathers of the oo. He was mighty in stature,
and in fear I fell upon the ground and hid my face. He called me by
name, and I looked up and saw that he held in his hand a small fish
of the color of the skies at sunset. Handing the fish to me, he said:
'Eat this, and to see your face all men will look toward the stars.' I
knew he was a god--Kanaloa, perhaps--and I feared to refuse. So I took
the fish and ate it, and the stranger stepped over the cliffs with a
smile on his face and disappeared. The fish was pleasant to the taste,
and I could have eaten more. A strange sense of increasing strength
seized me, and on my way home I lifted large rocks and felt that I
could uproot trees. I said nothing to my mother of what had happened,
but the next morning she looked at me with fright and wonder, for
during the night I had grown an arm's length in height. Except upon my
hands and knees I could no longer enter the door of the house where I
was born, and everything with which I was familiar had a dwarfed and
unnatural look. I was ashamed to meet my old associates, and only
ventured from the house when it was too dark for me to be plainly
seen. Larger and larger I grew, until at the age of fifteen I reached
my present proportions, when my mother died, and I made my home in
the mountains, where I have since spent the most of my time. What
should one so treated by the gods fear from man?" And Maukaleoleo
rose to his feet, towering like a cocoa-tree above his companion.
"A strange story, indeed! But if the trees, which are speechless,
do not betray you, why should not I?" said Umi, curious to learn
something farther of the strange being in whose veins possibly coursed
the blood of kings.
"Because," answered the giant, slowly, "you are Umi, the son of Liloa,
and Hakau is your enemy!"
Umi listened to these words in amazement, and then frankly said:
"You are right. I am Umi, the son of Liloa, and Hakau is not my
friend. And now that you know so much, you cannot but also know that
it is prudent for me to remain at present unknown. Let me ask in
return that you will not betray me."
"I know all, and you may fear nothing," said Maukaleoleo. "Before the
moon grows large again I shall be with you, spear in hand, on your way
to Waipio. Meantime you may lose sight of me, but I shall be near you
when my arm is needed. You have powerful friends. Be guided by them,
and all will be well."
Umi held up his hand, and Maukaleoleo folded it in his mighty palm
as he dropped upon his knees and exclaimed:
"Umi, son of Liloa! here in the hills, among the listening leaves,
let Maukaleoleo be the first to hail you moi of Hawaii!"
Before Umi could rebuke the untimely utterance Maukaleoleo rose to
his feet and with a low bow disappeared among the trees.
With whatever feeling of fear the makaainana, or laboring classes, of
Waipunalei may have regarded Maukaleoleo, as he occasionally appeared
among them like a moving tower, he was not without friends. He was
well known to the priests and kaulas of the district, who believed that
his huge proportions were due to the special act of some god, and was
always a welcome visitor at the home of Kaoleioku, a high-priest of
great influence both in Hilo and Hamakua. It is therefore probable
that this meeting with Umi was not entirely accidental, for the day
following Kaoleioku despatched a messenger to Umi, who was found not
without some difficulty, inviting him to a conference in a secluded
spot near the head of a neighboring valley.
The object of the meeting was not stated, and Umi's first thought
was that the emissaries of his brother were seeking to lure him to
his death; but no danger ever appalled him, and, seizing his javelin
and thrusting a pahoa into his girdle, he followed the messenger.
A brisk walk of an hour brought them to a small grass hut partially
hidden among the trees and undergrowth of an almost dry ravine abruptly
jutting into the valley. At that point the valley was too narrow to
admit of cultivation, although a broken stone wall across the mouth
of the ravine showed that at one time three or four uneven acres
behind it had been tilled. The grass grew rank within the enclosure,
and, in addition to several varieties of forest trees that had taken
root since the ground had last been disturbed, a half-dozen or more
cocoa-trees lifted their heads above the surrounding foliage, and
the broad leaves of as many banana-stalks swayed lazily in the wind.
It was a lonesome-looking spot, and no sign of life in or around the
hut was visible as the messenger stopped at a gap in the crumbling
wall and awaited the approach of Umi. The chirp of the crickets in the
grass seemed to be a note of warning, and the whistle of a solitary
bird hidden among the leaves sounded like a scream to Umi in that
deserted and otherwise silent nook; but he grasped his ihe firmly
and beckoned the messenger to proceed. As he stepped over the broken
wall he caught a glimpse of the ponderous form of Maukaleoleo through
the branches of a sandal-tree on the side of the hill overlooking the
hut. Under the eye of that mighty and friendly sentinel Umi dismissed
all thought of treachery or danger.
Reaching the door of the hut, he was met by the high-priest Kaoleioku,
who promptly extended his hand and invited him to enter, while the
messenger withdrew from the enclosure and took a position where he
commanded a view of the valley above and below the mouth of the ravine.
There was no furniture in the hut beyond two or three rickety shelves,
and on one side a raised platform of earth, which, with a kapa
covering, might have been used either as a bed or seat. On entering
the priest requested Umi to be seated, and then bowed low and said:
"I cannot doubt that I am standing before Umi, son of Liloa, and
guardian of our sacred temples and our fathers' gods." To these words
the priest silently awaited an answer.
Umi did not reply at once; but after giving the face of the priest
a searching glance, and recalling his meeting with Maukaleoleo the
day before, and the vision through the branches of the sandal-tree,
he frankly answered:
"I cannot deny it."
"No; you cannot, indeed!" returned the priest, fervently; "for so have
the clouds told me, and so has it been whispered in my dreams. Word
has come to me from Waipio that Hakau knows you are in Waipunalei,
and his emissaries are already here with orders to assassinate you."
"Then further disguise would be useless, further delay
cowardly!" exclaimed Umi, rising from his seat and grasping his
ihe. "His cruelty forces me at last to strike! The time for action
has come, and, spear in hand, as befits a son of Liloa, I will face
the royal murderer in Waipio, and the black kapa shall be his or mine!"
"Spoken like a king and a son of a king!" returned the priest with
enthusiasm, grasping Umi by the hand. "But you will not go alone. Come
to me with your friends to-morrow--if possible to-night. Under my
roof you will be safe, and there we will gather the spears that will
make your journey to Waipio a triumphal march."
"Thanks are the only payment I can now make to your friendship,"
said Umi, in turn pressing the hand of the priest. "You may expect
me and a few of my friends before another rising of the sun."
With a few hasty words of explanation Umi left the hut with his heart
on fire, and the priest watched him with a smile until he passed the
broken wall. There he was rejoined by the messenger, who silently
preceded him down the valley.
As he started to return Umi looked toward the sandal-tree above the
hut. Maukaleoleo was no longer there, but he frequently discerned
a mighty form moving down the valley along the wooded hillside,
and knew that his great friend was not far away.
The northeastern coast of the island of Hawaii presents an almost
continuous succession of valleys, with intervening uplands rising
gently for a few miles, and then more abruptly toward the snows of
Mauna Kea and the clouds. The rains are abundant on that side of
the island, and the fertile plateau, boldly fronting the sea with a
line of cliffs from fifty to a hundred feet in height, is scored at
intervals of one or two miles with deep and almost impassable gulches,
whose waters reach the ocean either through rocky channels worn to
the level of the waves, or in cascades leaping from the cliffs and
streaking the coast from Hilo to Waipio with lines which seem to be
of molten silver from the great crucible of Kilauea.
In the time of Liloa, and later, this plateau was thickly populated,
and, requiring no irrigation, was cultivated from the sea upward to the
line of frost. A few kalo patches are still seen, and bananas grow,
as of old, in secluded spots and along the banks of the ravines;
but the broad acres are green with cane, and the whistle of the
sugar-mill is heard above the roar of the surf that beats against
the rock-bound front of Hamakua.
In the first of these valleys south of Waipunalei was the estate of
the high-priest Kaoleioku, which was thickly dotted with the huts
of his tenants, and embraced some of the finest banana, cocoa and
breadfruit groves in the district. For the accommodation of himself
and family were two large mansions, constructed of heavy timbers and
surrounded by a substantial stone wall. The priest was learned and
hospitable, and his influence was second in the district only to that
of the alii-okane.
Anticipating the arrival of Umi and his friends during the night, the
priest had placed a watchman at the gate on retiring, with instructions
to wake him should any one unknown to the sentinel apply for admission
before morning. But Kaoleioku could not sleep, for his mind was filled
with the shadows of coming events. He had discovered a son of Liloa,
the rightful guardian of the temples and his gods, secreted among the
makaainani to escape the persecutions of his tyrannical and heartless
brother; and as a reconciliation between them did not seem to be
possible, he had resolved to urge Umi into open revolt at once, and
to assist him to the full extent of his power in organizing a force
to contest with Hakau the right to the sovereignty of Hawaii. This he
was moved to do, not more because Hakau was a tyrant, than that he had
sought to degrade the priesthood, of which Umi was the nominal head,
and in the dedication of a temple in Waimea had sacrilegiously usurped
the powers and privileges of the high-priest. Should the revolt prove
unsuccessful, his life, he well knew, would be one of the forfeits
of the failure; but the priest was a courageous man, and did not
hesitate to accept the hazard of the perilous undertaking. Although
reared in the priesthood, he could wield a spear with the best,
and when in arms his fifty years sat lightly upon him.
With his mind filled with the details of the dangerous labors before
him, the priest tossed restlessly upon his couch of kapa until past
midnight, when he rose and strolled out among the palms. Wearied
with walking, he stretched himself upon the grass, and, fanned by the
trade-winds and soothed by the stars which seemed to smile upon him
through the branches of the trees, he followed his troubled thoughts
into the land of dreams; and there a voice said to him thrice:
"Let the spears of Hakau be sent beyond the call of the Kiha-pu,
and the victory of Umi will be bloodless!"
A voice beside the sleeper awoke him, and he was informed by the
watchman that a considerable number of strangers were at the gate
and desired admission. The priest rose to his feet, and, with the
mysterious words of the dream still ringing in his ears, proceeded to
the gate, where the tall form of Umi loomed up in the darkness. Giving
him his hand with a warm word of welcome, the priest was about to
conduct him within when he was startled at the sudden appearance at
the gate of a party of armed and resolute-looking men--how many he
was unable to distinguish.
The priest was about to speak when Umi laid his hand upon his shoulder
and said in a low voice: "All trusty friends."
"Then all are welcome," replied the priest, and, giving an order to
the watchman, he stepped aside with Umi, when two hundred warriors,
appareled for battle, silently filed in double rank through the
opening, following Omaukamau and Piimaiwaa to quarters evidently
prepared for a much greater number.
"Truly, a good beginning!" exclaimed the priest, with enthusiasm,
as the last of the little army passed the gate.
"A few that my good friends have been sounding since yesterday,"
said Umi, modestly. "They do not know me yet as Umi, but are inspired
with a hatred for Hakau. The number could have been greatly increased,
but I feared your ability to accommodate more without warning."
"It was thoughtful; but ten times their number can be secreted within
these walls. But come," continued the priest, taking the arm of Umi
and proceeding toward the larger mansion; "there is red in the east,
and you must have rest and sleep. When you awake I will give you a
dream to interpret. It relates to the business before us."
"Tell me of the dream before I sleep, good Kaoleioku," urged Umi,
pleasantly, "and perhaps some god may whisper an answer to it in
my slumbers."
"Well thought," replied the priest; and he related his dream to Umi
as he conducted him to a room in the large hale and pointed to a pile
of soft kapa on a low platform.
The priest bowed and retired, and Umi, who had rested but little for
three days, threw himself upon the kapa-moe and slept soundly until
the sun was high in the heavens.
The young chief awoke greatly refreshed, and, after his morning bath,
sought the presence of the priest, who since daylight had been busily
engaged in despatching messengers to his friends in various parts of
the district, and even to Puna and Hamakua, and arranging for supplies
of arms, provisions and other warlike stores. Against the walls of the
enclosure a number of long sheds had been hastily constructed, under
which, screened from observation from without, men were repointing
spears and ihes, and repairing slings, daggers and other weapons. In
fact, the enclosure began to assume the appearance of a military camp
rather than the peaceful habitation of a priest; and as Umi looked
around him he appreciated for the first time that a step had been
taken which could not be retraced, and that the lives of himself
and many of his friends could be saved alone by destroying Hakau,
in whose heart lived no feeling of mercy. But, as the conflict had
been forced upon him, he accepted it without fear or regret, and his
courage would not permit him to doubt the result.
Umi greeted and thanked the priest for the warlike preparations visible
on all sides, and over their morning meal together were discussed the
resources and details of the coming struggle. It was not believed
that a sufficient force could be rallied in the district to make
head against the battalions of the king in open fight, for news of
the ripening rebellion was spreading in the neighborhood and would
soon reach Waipio.
"What we lack in spears must be made up in cunning," said the priest,
confidently. "The gods are with us, and the means of victory will be
pointed out."
"Perhaps," replied Umi, thoughtfully; "but sometimes the direction
is vague and we are apt to mistake it. Olopana failed to interpret
correctly the will of Kane, as sent to him through his high-priest,
and was driven by the floods from Waipio, and compelled to return to
Kahiki, the land of his fathers."
"True," returned the priest, not a little astonished at Umi's knowledge
of the ancient chiefs of Hawaii, "and we must not fall into the same
error. The gods, perhaps, have already spoken. 'Let the spears of
Hakau be sent beyond the call of the Kiha-pu,' are the words that
have come to me, but I can find no interpretation of them. We must
make sacrifice at once, and consult the kaulas."
"That would be well," said Umi; "yet it may be that a hint of their
meaning, if nothing more, has been sent to me. I slept with the words
this morning, you will remember, and now I recall that a whisper
advised that we should take to our counsel Nunu and Kakohe, of Waipio."
"You have made the way clear!" exclaimed the priest, earnestly. "I know
the men well. They are priests of influence and large learning. They
were the advisers of Liloa, and are now the enemies of Hakau."
"The same," said Umi; "I have met them both."
"Then will we despatch a discreet messenger for them at once,"
returned the priest, rising abruptly. "Every moment is precious,
and their counsel may be the voice of the gods."
And now, while the messenger is on his way to Waipio, it may be in
place to make some further mention of the two priests in search of whom
he was sent, as they contributed in no small measure to Umi's final
success, and were thereafter rated among his confidential counsellors.
Nunu and Kakohe were chiefs of distinction and belonged to the
priesthood. They were both learned in the lore of the gods and the
traditions of the people, and were so highly esteemed by Liloa that
he frequently invited them to the royal mansion, and late in life
spent one or more evenings with them in each month, when he listened
to recitals of the traditions of his fathers, and mistier lines of
demi-gods and heroes stretching backward in unbroken thread to the
morning of creation. They were among the few who could recite the
sacred genealogical mele of Kumuhonua, the Hawaiian Adam, and he loved
to listen to the naming of the generations from the first man to Nuu,
of the great flood, and thence to Wakea, and downward still nearly
sixty generations to himself. Some differences existing between the
genealogies of Hawaii and Maui, Liloa had sent them to the latter
island to confer with its priests and historians, with the view of
reconciling their disagreements. Their mission was successful, and what
is known as the Ulu genealogy was the result of the learned conference.
These were among the friends of Liloa who, for the sake of the father
and the honor of the royal line, had patiently and earnestly sought
to divert Hakau from his barbarous practices. But he had scorned
their kind offices, made light of their learning, and finally denied
them admission to the palace. He hoped by his cruelty to drive them
from Waipio; but in the prophetic flames they had read their future,
and from within the sacred anu of the temple voices had come to them
enjoining patience; so they sat down and waited.
Arriving at Waipio, the messenger of Kaoleioku had but little
difficulty in finding the two priests of whom he was in search. It
was some hours after nightfall, but on inquiry he was directed to
their humble dwelling on the south side of the stream, and soon stood
at their door. It was dark within, and on making his presence known
two men appeared at the opening. The messenger saluted them politely,
and, observing but a single person, they cautiously stepped from the
door and inquired of the visitor his business with them.
By their garb and bearing he knew them to be priests, but that was not
enough; he could afford to make no mistake, so he dissembled and said:
"I have probably been misinformed; this is not the house of Monana,
the fisherman?"
"My friend," said Nunu, "your words do not mislead us. Whether for
good or evil I know not, but you are in search of Kakohe and Nunu,
and they are here. If you have business with them, speak; there are
no listeners."
The messenger answered by unfolding from a piece of kapa an ivory
talisman carved from a whale's tooth, which he handed to Nunu, with a
request that he would examine it. Stepping to a fire still smouldering
near the oven of the hut, the priest threw upon it a handful of dry
bark, which in a moment burst into a flame and enabled him to inspect
the palaoa. Returning and addressing a few words to his companion,
the priest said to the messenger:
"You are from Kaoleioku, of Waipunalei."
"I am from Kaoleioku, of Waipunalei," repeated the messenger, bowing.
"How long since?" inquired the priest.
"Late this morning," was the answer.
"You must have traveled swiftly, for the paths are rough and the
distance is a long day's journey," suggested the priest, cautiously.
"My feet have known no rest," was the brief reply.
"What news bring you of Kaoleioku?"
"None."
"Then why are you here with this palaoa?"
"Because so commanded by Kaoleioku."
"There are rumors of coming troubles on the borders of Hamakua. Has
Kaoleioku sent you to tell us of them?"
"I am here to say nothing of Kaoleioku, but to say for him, and to
say only, that he prays that Nunu and Kakohe will meet him under his
own roof at Waipunalei without delay."
"And nothing more?"
"Nothing more."
"You are discreet."
"I am simply the bearer of a message; and now that I have delivered
it, I am waiting for such answer as you may desire to send back with
me to Kaoleioku."
"When will you return?"
"To-night."
"Then tell Kaoleioku that his friends Nunu and Kakohe will be with
him by this time to-morrow. Now come," continued the priest, "there
is meat in the mua, and you must eat, for there is a wearying journey
before you."
The messenger was led into an adjoining hut, where meat and poi were
set before him, and half an hour after he was scaling the hills east
of the valley of Waipio.
Although the messenger was silent, the priests felt assured that
there was a gathering of spears in the neighborhood of Waipunalei,
and that Kaoleioku was secretly inciting a revolt. They knew that Umi
was somewhere among the hills of Hilo, and felt strong in hoping that
at the proper time he would be found at the head of the movement.
Hakau had very much underrated the power of the priesthood, and did not
discover until too late that in seeking to persecute and degrade Umi,
who had been given charge of the gods and temples by Liloa, he had
provoked the hostility of a class which at that period of Hawaiian
history no sovereign could safely defy. If the tabus of the moi were
sacred, those of the high-priests were none the less inviolable, and
the strongest chiefs in the group were those who held in greatest
respect and enjoyed the largest friendship of the priesthood. Like
the temporal rulers, the priests inherited their functions, and were
as jealous of their prerogatives as royalty itself. It was through
them that the civil as well as the religious traditions of the people
had been brought down and perpetuated, and through their prayers and
sacrifices only that the gods could be persuaded to accord success
to important undertakings.
In the veins of some of the priests ran royal blood, and from time
to time they left their heiaus and became distinguished as warriors;
but under no circumstances did they ever relinquish their sacred
rights. They not unfrequently possessed large landed estates, the
title to which remained inalienably in the family. Such, for example,
was the Kekaha estate, in the district of Kona, Hawaii, which was the
gift of Liloa to Laeanui, and which remained with the descendants of
that eminent high-priest until the days of Kamehameha I.
Such a warrior-priest of goodly possessions was Kaoleioku, of
Waipunalei. He was the high-priest of the temple of Manini, at
Koholalele, which was consecrated, as before related, in the time
of Liloa. Although for some years he had seldom officiated, except
on important occasions--preferring the quieter life of his estate at
Waipunalei--he was greatly respected by the people of the district,
and his influence proved a tower of strength to Umi.
IV.
True to the answer returned to Kaoleioku by his messenger, Nunu and
Kakohe reached Waipunalei the following night; and when they saw
the warlike preparations, and learned that Umi was present and that
the acclaim of revolt was to be raised in his name, they wept for
joy. It was past midnight, and their limbs were weary, but they could
not sleep. At their request the door of Umi's room was pointed out to
them, and they went and sat down beside it. For an hour or more they
did not speak. Then, when all was still within the walls, in a low
tone they began the legendary chant of the kings of Hawaii. As they
proceeded with a record which few on the island beside themselves
could correctly repeat, their voices rose with their enthusiasm, and
in a few minutes hundreds of half-naked men crept from their barrack
lodgings and stood listening to the metric sentences of the learned
historians. As they reached the name of Kiha, Umi stepped without
the door. The priests recognized him and rose to their feet. Then,
continuing the mele, they chanted the name of Kiha, of Liloa, of Hakau,
and finally of Umi, represented as having wrested the sceptre from
his unworthy brother, who was hated by his subjects and abandoned by
the gods. With this they dropped on their knees before him and boldly
saluted him as moi of Hawaii.
This acquainted many of the warriors present for the first time of
Umi's rank, and the wildest enthusiasm seized them. They asked to be
led at once to Waipio, and were only quieted when Kaoleioku appeared
and assured them that their patriotic wishes would soon be gratified.
At first Kaoleioku deemed this early development of the purposes of
the movement untimely, if not, indeed, unfortunate. Many preparations
remained to be made. It had been a suggestion of Umi that a part of
the rebel forces should be sent to Waipio by water; but the canoes
necessary for the expedition had not been secured, and not more than a
thousand warriors had reported. Secrecy could no longer be maintained,
and immediate and open action appeared to be now unavoidable. Yet
it was through Nunu and Kakohe that his plans had been thwarted,
and while he felt annoyed at what they had done, he retired, hoping
they had acted advisedly in the matter.
The conduct of the priests was explained and approved the next
morning. They urged immediate action. Hakau was not prepared for a
sudden attack. For many years there had been no wars of consequence,
and such of his supporters as the king could hastily summon to his
assistance would be improperly armed and without discipline.
Their advice was for Umi to raise the standard of revolt at once. This
news they would take to Waipio, with the further information that,
although preparing for rebellion, Umi would not be strong enough to act
for some time. Alarmed, Hakau would consult the high-priest Laeanui,
who, notwithstanding their relations, was secretly his enemy, and a
plan could be devised to induce the king to send his household guards
and immediate followers to the mountains on some religious errand,
when Umi, apprised of the situation by fires kindled at intervals on
the hill-tops between Waipio and Waipunalei, could swoop down with
a few hundred resolute warriors and seize the king and the capital,
and thus with a bold stroke achieve a bloodless triumph.
When the priests had developed this plan of action Kaoleioku rose to
his feet and exclaimed with excitement:
"The gods have instructed you!"
"You have spoken truly; the gods have indeed instructed our
friends!" said Umi, impressively; "for was it not said in your dreams
that the victory would be bloodless if the spears of Hakau were sent
beyond the call of the Kiha-pu?"
"The meaning is now plain," returned the priest, reverentially. "The
gods are with us, and we will be directed by them."
All the details were then carefully arranged, and the two priests
returned to Waipio. It was soon rumored that they brought news of
Umi, and Hakau sent for them, as had been expected. Fear had somewhat
humbled him, and he greeted them with what seemed to be the greatest
friendship and cordiality. He even chided them for absenting themselves
so long from the royal mansion, where their visits, he assured them,
would always be welcome. They assumed to be greatly gratified at
his protestations of good-will, but secretly despised him for his
shallow hypocrisy.
When questioned by the king the priests frankly informed him that they
had left Umi and Kaoleioku together no longer than the day before,
and advised him to lose no time in despatching to the mountains all
the men he could summon, to gather fresh feathers of rare birds with
which to redecorate his god of war.
Hakau was startled by this advice, for the ceremony of kauilaakua
was never performed except in times of war or other imminent peril.
"What!" he exclaimed, with assumed astonishment, "shall this be
done because Umi lives, and you have seen him with the high-priest
of Manini?"
"No; not because Umi lives," replied Nunu quietly, "but because he
is preparing for rebellion."
"Rebellion!" repeated Hakau, angrily. "Does he expect to be able to
maintain himself in Hilo?"
"His aims reach beyond Hilo," ventured the priest.
"To Puna?"
"Beyond Puna."
"To Kau?"
"Beyond Kau."
"Then he must aim at the whole island," exclaimed Hakau, savagely.
"At the whole island," repeated the priest, maliciously.
"He shall have land enough to bury him, and no more!" hissed the
king. "But you are croakers, both of you. Before considering your
advice I shall consult Laeanui and the seers of Paakalani, and hear
what the gods say of this wide-spread conspiracy, as your fears and
cowardice tell the story."
Hakau abruptly dismissed the priests, and despatched a messenger for
the high-priest Laeanui, but it was late in the afternoon before he
could be found. He was old and venerable in appearance, and his hair,
white as the snows of Mauna Kea, fell to his knees, covering his
shoulders like a veil.
They had met but rarely since the death of Liloa, for the old priest
seldom left the temple grounds, and Hakau as seldom visited them; and
as the bearded and white-haired prophet entered the royal mansion,
all bent respectfully before him, and a feeling of awe crept over
the king as the priest stood silently and with folded arms before him.
"My greeting to you, venerable servant of the gods!" said the king.
The priest bowed, but remained silent, and Hakau resumed abruptly:
"I have learned that Umi and a priest named Kaoleioku are plotting
treason together in Hilo, near the borders of Hamakua. What know you
of Kaoleioku?"
"A man to be feared if he is in earnest," replied the priest curtly.
"Have auguries of the movement been invoked?" inquired the king.
With a gesture the priest replied in the negative.
"And why not?" continued Hakau, impetuously. "What are priests and
temples for, if not to guard the kingdom against coming dangers?"
"If it so please them, the gods answer when they are asked through
sacrifice," replied the priest; and then, with rising anger, he
continued: "Your father respected the gods, and came to the temple
when he would consult them, and his son must do the same."
"Well, then," said Hakau, discovering that the priest neither loved
nor feared him, "I will be at the temple to-night, some time after
sunset, and have you there the best of your diviners."
"I shall await your coming," replied Laeanui, briefly, as he bowed
low and retired.
"Although he gave me his daughter," muttered Hakau, as Laeanui left
the room, "he has no love for me, and I as little for him. But no
matter; I must not quarrel with him now. Wait until I have dealt
with Umi and his confederates, and then--" But he did not finish the
sentence, for he suddenly recollected that the high-priesthood was
an inherited position, like his own, and its bestowal was not a royal
prerogative. There were bloody means of creating vacancies, however,
and these flashed through the wicked brain of Hakau.
The night that followed was dark, with a steady wind from the northwest
and occasional showers. It was some time after sunset before the king
entered the outer gate of the heiau of Paakalani. He was accompanied
by four attendants, two of whom bore a muzzled pig and two fowls;
the others were trusty friends. A kukui torch was kept burning in
front of the house of the high-priest, another between the altar and
inner court, and a third near the entrance of the royal retreat, with
which that heiau, like many others, was provided. Toward the latter
Hakau and his party proceeded, and were soon joined by Laeanui and
a number of officiating priests and kilos.
Entering the royal hale, a few words passed between the king and
Laeanui, when the attendants of Hakau were relieved of their burdens
and sent without the enclosure. The kaika, or large sacrificial drum,
was then sounded with three measured strokes, and in a few minutes
six officiating priests, three of them with knives in their hands
and the others bearing torches, made their appearance. To them the
pig and fowls were entrusted, and, preceded by the torch-bearers,
the king and high-priest, followed by the attendants of the temple,
with measured pace moved toward the altar.
Reaching the place of sacrifice, the high-priest uttered a prayer
to the godhead, and separate supplications to Kane, Ku and Lono,
intoned by the assisting priests, when the fowls were decapitated
and their headless bodies placed upon the altar. The priest watched
them until they were motionless, and then opened them and carefully
examined the heart, liver and entrails of each.
The king glanced anxiously at the priest, but the latter made
no response. The pig was then ordered to be slain. The throat of
the animal was cut and its bleeding body was also placed upon the
altar. The flow of the blood was scrupulously noted, and, after
the respirations had been counted and the animal ceased to breathe,
the body was hastily opened. The spleen was removed and held above
the head of the priest while another prayer was spoken, and then the
other organs were separately examined.
Completing the inspection, Laeanui stepped back from the altar.
"Well," said the king, impatiently, "what say the gods?"
"The gods are angry, and the portents are evil," replied the priest.
"Then promise them a hundred human sacrifices," exclaimed Hakau. "If
their favor is to be purchased with blood, I will drown the heiau
with an ocean of it. But," he continued, "I am not satisfied with
these auguries. Let me hear from the anu."
Immediately behind the altar was the entrance to the inner court
of the temple. Within, and about three paces back from the door,
which was covered with a wide breadth of kapa, was placed the anu,
a wicker enclosure four or five feet in diameter, in which stood the
oracle. On each side of the entrance were carved images of Kane, Ku,
Lono and other Hawaiian deities, while at intervals of three or four
feet along the walls a score or more of gods of lesser potency stood
guard above the sacred spot.
To the last request of Hakau the priest replied: "The king shall hear
from the anu."
The lights were then extinguished, and all except the king and
high-priest retired some distance from the altar, that no whisper of
the oracle might reach them. Hakau was nervous as he stepped with
the priest in front of the entrance to the inner temple. A prayer
was uttered by the priest; the kapa screen was drawn aside by hands
unseen, and the king stood looking into the intense darkness of the
sanctum sanctorum of the temple.
"Speak!" said the priest, withdrawing behind the altar, and leaving
the king alone before the anu.
"Speak!" repeated a hollow voice from within the sacred enclosure.
For some minutes Hakau remained awed and silent; then, in a voice
which scarcely seemed to be his own, he said:
"Great power, I hear that dangers threaten."
"Dangers threaten!" came like an echo from within.
"How may they be averted?" inquired the king.
For a time there was no answer. Finally a voice from the anu replied:
"Do homage to Kane; make glad the war-god of Liloa!"
"So do I promise," answered the king; "but will that give me victory?"
"Victory!" was repeated from the anu.
Elated at what he had heard, Hakau continued:
"Now tell me, mighty spirit, whether Umi--"
"Nothing more!" interrupted the voice from within, as the kapa suddenly
dropped before the entrance.
"Well, thanks for so much," said Hakau, turning and joining the priest
at the altar, and repeating to him, with some favorable additions,
the words that he had heard. Darkness hid the smile upon the lips
of Laeanui.
"The day after to-morrow we will hold here a festival to Kane, and
the altar shall be heaped with offerings," said the king. "To-morrow
I will send my people to the mountains to gather feathers of sacred
and royal colors, and Kaili, the neglected war-god of Liloa, shall
be made glorious in new plumage and glad with abundant sacrifice."
"It is well," replied the priest.
"Now let the conspirators marshal their spears!" continued Hakau,
confidently, "and we will make short work of them. They cannot be
punished in the hills of Hilo. With a showing of weakness we will
lure them to Waipio, and not one of them shall escape. We will cut
off their retreat, and close in their faces the gates of the puhonui!"
As already mentioned, of the two puhonuis, or places of refuge, on
Hawaii at that time, one was an adjunct of the heiau of Paakalani,
at Waipio. In times of war their gates, with white flags to mark them,
were always open, and those who succeeded in passing into the enclosure
were safe from assault, even though pursued by the king himself.
This savage proposal to close the gates of the puhonui was promptly
resented by Laeanui. He would as soon have thought of tumbling the
gods from their pedestals and consigning them to the flames.
"You suggest what is impossible," said the priest. "Since the days of
Wakea the puhonui has been sacred. Its gates cannot be closed to the
defenceless, and the gods have said that he who shuts them against
the weak shall seek in vain their shelter from the arm of the strong."
"Well, then, keep them open!" retorted the king, sharply. "They will
run swiftly who enter them!"
Torches were relighted, and the king and his attendants left the
heiau. They had not passed beyond the outer wall before Nunu emerged
from the inner court. His was the voice that had answered the king from
the anu. Thus in the temple of Paakalani was shaped the destruction
of Hakau, and the priests whom he had insulted and defied opened
broadly and surely the way to his death.
The next morning an unusual commotion was observed in and around
the royal mansion, and as party after party left the inclosure--some
proceeding toward the sea-coast, and others up the valley and into
the mountains beyond--the villagers wondered at the proceeding, and
predicted that a strict tabu would soon follow, whatever might be the
occasion. But when they learned that the war-god was to be redecorated,
and an imposing religious festival was to follow the day after,
they knew that trouble of some kind was anticipated by the king,
and soon found a correct explanation of the movement in the rumors
which they, too, had heard concerning Umi and his friends in Hilo and
eastern Hamakua. The possibility of an uprising against Hakau gave
them no uneasiness, however, for his cruelties had secured for him
their hatred, while the name of Umi was to all classes a synonym of
strength and gentleness.
The king was not indifferent to the danger with which he was about
to be confronted, and promptly despatched lunapais to the district
chiefs of Kohala, Kona, and Hamakua, ordering them to report without
delay at Waipio with two thousand warriors each, while the governor
of Hilo was commanded by a special lunapai to march at once with a
body of warriors to Waipunalei, with the view of precipitating the
movement of Umi upon Waipio, where, it was not doubted, he would be
overwhelmed and crushed.
All these were proper precautions, but they were taken too late; for
at the time the feather-hunters and lunapais were leaving on their
respective missions, Umi, at the head of over two thousand well-armed
and resolute warriors, had reached a point within a two hours' march
of Waipio, and was awaiting a signal to swoop down upon the valley.
And now let us return to Waipunalei, and note what had been occurring
there during the preceding forty-eight hours. As soon as the priests
left for Waipio, two days before, trusty and intelligent sentinels
followed and took their respective stations, designated by Maukaleoleo,
on the summits of seven different hill-tops discernible from each
other from Waipunalei to Waipio. The first, coming eastward from
Waipio, was three miles, perhaps, from the temple of Paakalani; the
last was a rocky pinnacle about four miles from Waipunalei. This was
the station of Maukaleoleo.
The sentinels were instructed to gather large heaps of dry grass and
bark; to keep small fires smouldering and ready for use; to vigilantly
watch the peaks in the direction of Waipio; to apply the torch the
instant a signal-fire was seen, and keep the pile burning until it
was plainly answered by the next station toward Waipunalei.
All that day and through the following night armed men were arriving at
the rendezvous at Kaoleioku's, until something more than two thousand
warriors had reported, and every spare moment of the next day was
devoted to forming them into companies and battalions, giving them
leaders and preparing them for a rapid march.
Many of the warriors were accompanied by their wives, daughters or
sisters; for in those days, and later, women not unfrequently followed
their fathers, brothers and husbands to battle, generally keeping
in the rear to furnish them with food and water, but sometimes, in a
close and desperate conflict, mingling bravely in the fight. In such
cases they gave and received blows, and expected and were accorded
no consideration because of their sex.
Instances are given in Hawaiian tradition of the tide of battle being
turned, on more than one occasion, by desperate women transformed
from camp-followers into warriors; and as late as 1819 we behold
Manona, wife of Kekuokalani, the last sturdy champion of the gods
of his fathers, falling lifeless in battle upon the body of her dead
husband at Kuamoo, while Kaahumanu and Kalakau, widows of the great
Kamehameha, commanded the fleet of canoes operating with the land
forces under Kalaimoku.
After the visit of the priests from Waipio the purpose of the revolt
was no longer disguised, and whenever Umi made his appearance among
the assembled and assembling warriors he was greeted with the wildest
enthusiasm. His romantic history was known to them, and had been made
the theme of song. His many triumphs at the festival given by Liloa in
honor of his formal recognition were recited by those who had witnessed
them, and his grand proportions and noble bearing stamped him as of
chiefly blood; and when his friends Piimaiwaa and Omaukamau spoke of
the great learning displayed by him when questioned by the priests,
and intimated that he had been instructed by the gods and was under
their care, every doubt of success vanished, and the order for an
advance upon Waipio was awaited with impatience.
Maukaleoleo mysteriously came and went, but always at night, and seldom
remaining longer than a few minutes. He was known to all within the
enclosure, and allowed to pass unchallenged, as he could be mistaken
for no one else. As he strode through the gateway, bearing a spear
scarcely less than thirty feet in length, the sentinels regarded him
with awe; and when they saw him converse with Umi and then silently
depart, they shook their heads and said, "Perhaps he is Lono!"
The temple of Manini, dedicated by Liloa just before his meeting
with the mother of Umi, and of which Kaoleioku was the high-priest,
was a reconstruction and enlargement of an old heiau which was in
existence certainly as early as the time of the warlike Kalaunuiohua,
who reigned between the years 1260 and 1300. With a large army and
proportionate fleet of canoes he invaded Maui, Molokai and Oahu,
and, taking their captured sovereigns with him, made a descent upon
Kauai. But his triumphs ended there. After an obstinate battle he
was defeated and taken prisoner, but was subsequently released and
permitted to return to his own kingdom.
It was during the reign of this sovereign that the prophetess Waahia
lived. She accompanied him in his expeditions as far as Oahu, but
refused to proceed with him to Kauai. She declared that the gods
would bring calamity upon him if he invaded that island, and sought to
persuade him to consolidate his conquests and return to Hawaii. But
the warrior-king cared but little for priests or temples, and was
in the habit of destroying both when they failed to subserve his
purposes. Enraged at the unfavorable auguries of Waahia, and fearful
that they might come to the ears of and demoralize his warriors,
the king induced her to return to Hawaii. One tradition says she
voluntarily abandoned Kalaunuiohua, while another relates that she
consented to return only on condition that the war-god of the king
be sent back with her. This god had been in the reigning family
of Hawaii since the days of Paao, and had been sanctified by that
father of the priesthood. To distinguish it from other war-gods it
was known as Akuapaao, and was held in great veneration. When asked
for an explanation of the strange request, the prophetess boldly
declared that, if the god was taken to Kauai, it would never return
except at the head of a conquering army that would make of Hawaii a
tributary kingdom.
"Then take it with you!" exclaimed the king, savagely, "and if I
return to Hawaii alive I will burn you both together!"
"You will burn neither," said Waahia. "When you return to Hawaii you
will think better of the gods and their servants; and in generations
to come, when angry spears shall be crossed in the hale of the kings
of Hawaii, the hand will be stronger that places the fresh lei upon
the shoulders of Akuapaao."
The prophetess prepared to embark. The god, wrapped in a fold of
kapa, so that it might not be recognized, was brought to the beach
and delivered to the departing seeress. The canoe, which was large
enough to accommodate thirty persons, was shoved into the surf. It was
provided with food and a calabash of water. Declining all assistance
or companionship in her journey, Waahia stepped into the canoe with
the image in her arms, and, after carefully depositing it in the bow
of the boat, returned and seated herself near the stern. Half a dozen
men were waiting for the word to launch the canoe from the sands upon
which the stern was lightly resting. But the seeress raised no sail,
touched no oar. For some minutes she sat, silent and motionless,
with bent head and clasped hands, as if in prayer, while hundreds of
curious eyes watched her in amazement, wondering what would become
of her, even should the unmanned craft be successful in passing the
breakers. Then she slowly rose to her feet, and the canoe began to
glide toward the reef. Faster and faster it moved, until, mounting a
retreating wave, it was borne swiftly out into the calmer waters; then,
slightly turning in its course, it dashed southward with the speed of
the wind, and was soon lost to the view of the awe-stricken beholders.
Waahia looked beneath the waves and smiled, for Ukanipo, the shark-god,
with scores of assistants, was bearing her onward; and then from his
ipu Laamaomao, the Hawaiian Æolus, let loose the imprisoned winds, and
refreshing zephyrs cooled the face of the prophetess and accelerated
the speed of the canoe, until it seemed to leap from wave to wave;
and great sea-birds screamed with fright as it dashed past and awoke
them from their billowy slumbers, leaving behind it a long trail of
troubled waters.
Passing to the southward of the intervening islands, the canoe was
borne with undiminished speed through the channel of Alenuihaha to
the northeastern coast of Hawaii, and before sunset was beached at
Koholalele. The prophetess knew the meaning of this. Near by was the
old heiau of Manini, and thither, as she felt instructed, was taken
and deposited the war-god Akuapaao, with the solemn injunction to
the high-priest in charge that it was never to be removed from the
inner court unless the life of the moi was in peril or the kingdom
was invaded by a foreign foe.
The old heiau had given place to a more imposing structure during
the reign of Liloa. Its outer walls had been enlarged, raised and
repaired, and its inner belongings improved and redecorated; but
its sacred relics had not been disturbed, and its many gods remained
where they had been for generations.
Among the most sacred idols of the temple, even after the death of
Liloa, was the Akuapaao. Its name indicated alike its age and sanctity;
and while the legends connected with it had become vague and distorted
in their transmission through a long line of priests, the prophecy
of Waahia still clung to it, and it was especially reverenced by the
few to whom was entrusted the secret of its functions.
Hakau had learned of this god from his royal father, and the same
morning that his retainers were sent to the hills for feathers two
priests were despatched to Koholalele, with orders to bring to Waipio,
in the king's name and without delay, the war-god Akuapaao. Should
the priests of the temple refuse to surrender the idol, then the
messengers were instructed to call upon the district chiefs for
assistance, and take it by force, no matter at what cost of life.
But the king was too late, for at early daylight of the morning of
the day before his messengers left Waipio, Maukaleoleo strode into
the rebel headquarters with the Akuapaao in his arms. Kaoleioku had,
of course, instructed the giant where and how to secure the image,
for in years past he had been its custodian, and his orders continued
to be obeyed by the priests of Manini. The idol, completely wrapped
in kapa, was deposited in the private heiau of the high-priest,
and Maukaleoleo left the enclosure as quietly as he had entered it
a few minutes before. The sentinels wondered, as usual, but bowed in
silence as he came and went.
The priest rose with the sun, and learned that Maukaleoleo had already
been a visitor that morning. He hastened to the heiau, and there found
the Akuapaao. He was overjoyed. He removed the kapa covering from the
idol, placed it upon a pedestal between the images of Ku and Lono, and
then found Umi and brought him to the heiau. Entering, Kaoleioku closed
the door and pointed to the Akuapaao. Umi bowed reverently before it.
"Listen, O Umi!" said the priest; "listen, O son of Liloa! Behold
the war-god of your fathers! It was sanctified by the touch of Paao,
and for generations, in the inner chamber of Manini, has awaited
your coming. From Waahia, the prophetess, have come down, through
the chief priests of the heiau, these words: 'When angry spears shall
be crossed in the hale of the kings of Hawaii, the hand will be the
stronger that places the fresh lei upon the shoulders of Akuapaao.' The
spears are about to be crossed; the god is here; let yours be the hand,
and not Hakau's, to place the lei-ai upon the shoulders of Akuapaao!"
The words of the prophecy came to Umi as a dream. Overwhelmed with
their significance, he fell upon his knees and exclaimed:
"God of my fathers! be you my guide until I prove unworthy of your
protection!"
"Your realm is yet small," said the priest, "and is enclosed within
these walls. Let us pay respect to the gods, that its boundaries may
be enlarged."
Thereupon a strict tabu was ordered to all within the walls, to begin
at midday and continue until the setting of the sun. The time was
brief, but events were pressing, and it could not safely be extended.
The tabu, or kapu, as it is sometimes written, was strictly a
prerogative of the high chiefs and priests of olden Hawaii. There
were fixed tabus of custom, and declared tabus of limited duration by
the temporal and spiritual rulers. The penalty for the violation of
all tabus was death. It was tabu of custom for men and women to eat
together, or for women to eat of the flesh of swine, fowls, turtle
and many kinds of fish. Everything belonging to the kings, priests
and temples was tabu, or sacred, and springs, paths, fishing-grounds,
water-courses, etc., were frequently thus kept from the use of the
people. Declared general tabus, for the propitiation of the gods
or the amelioration of a public evil, were either strict or common,
according to the emergency. During the time of a common tabu the people
were required to abstain from their usual avocations and attend at the
heiau, where morning and evening prayers were offered. A strict tabu
was more sacred. While it continued--generally one or two days--all,
with the exception of the alii-nui and priests, were compelled to
remain within doors. Every fire and every light was extinguished; no
canoe was launched; all noises ceased; the pigs and dogs were muzzled,
and fowls were placed under calabashes. These tabus were proclaimed
by heralds, and their wanton violation was an unpardonable offence.
In preparation for the tabu to be declared by Umi, flowers and
feathers were brought, and leis of both were woven. Everything being
in readiness, heralds proclaimed the tabu and its duration, with the
further announcement that the occasion was the arrival of the mighty
war-god Akuapaao and its coming decoration by Umi.
As the sun touched the mark of meridian, the gates of the enclosure
were barred and guarded by the religious attendants of the priest;
the fires were everywhere extinguished; the few animals within the
walls were either muzzled or hidden; men, women and children suddenly
disappeared within their dwellings or quarters, and mats were hung
at the openings; Umi and the priest retired alone to the heiau and
closed the door, and silence, disturbed only by low whispers and the
muffled footfalls of the watching priests, reigned over the twenty-five
hundred persons gathered within the enclosure.
In the heiau, or apartment of the gods, to which Umi and the
high-priest retired, were a number of images and sacred relics. Near
the centre of the room was a small altar, upon which had been deposited
the leis provided for the decoration of Akuapaao. They sat down beside
it, and for an hour or more nothing was heard but the whispered prayers
of the priest, addressed in turn to the several gods before him. Then,
rising and leading Umi by the hand to the Akuapaao, in a low voice he
formally presented him to the god as the son of Liloa and rightful
ruler of the Hawaiian people. Another prayer was uttered, and then
Umi, with the words, "Accept this, O Akuapaao, with the homage of
Umi!" proceeded reverently to place around the head and neck of the
image a number of fragrant leis of flowers and wreaths of brilliant
feathers.
The priest watched the act intently. As the last wreath of feathers,
resembling a crown in appearance--the lei-hula-alii--was placed upon
the head of the image, a sunbeam flashed through what seemed to be a
small rent in the thatched roof, and for a moment haloed the heads
of Umi and the god. The priest read the answer and smiled. He felt
as assured of the favor of the gods as if it had been pledged in a
voice of thunder, and Umi bent low in acknowledgment of the joyful
revelation.
The sun dropped behind the hills; twilight turned to bronze the gold
of the valleys, and the tabu was at an end. It was proclaimed that
the auguries were highly favorable, and the silence of the tabu was
broken by wild strains of music and shouts of rejoicing.
V.
As darkness settled upon the camp of the insurgents Umi felt that
the hour for action was closely at hand. He therefore gave orders
that preparations for instant departure be maintained throughout the
night. The moon was waning, with a promise of rising some time before
morning, and the night set in dark and cloudy, with occasional showers.
About two hours before midnight Maukaleoleo suddenly and silently
strode past the sentinels. Seeking Umi, he found him in council
with his friends Omaukamau, Piimaiwaa and the high-priest. They were
arranging the order of march by the four narrow paths at that time
leading to Waipio.
The giant stooped low and looked in upon the council through the
doorway. He could scarcely distinguish the faces within by the light
of the flambeau kept burning near the entrance. He did not attempt
to enter, but stood silent and motionless, with his hands upon his
knees, peering into the room as if to attract attention. Umi smiled
as he recognized the huge object, and stepped to the door. The giant
rose until his head was above the ridge-pole, and then bowed like
the bending of a tree before the wind.
"Well, my good friend," said Umi, "after thanking you for your last
night's work, let me ask what word you bring."
"None," replied the giant. "There is no light yet, but I am impressed
that it will be seen before morning."
"And so am I, good Maukaleoleo," returned the chief, "and your signal
will find us prepared."
"That is what I came to learn," answered the giant, bowing and turning
to depart.
"But do not mistake for a signal the rising moon, which will soon
set its torch upon the hill-tops," suggested Umi, pleasantly.
"Unless the moon should rise in the west, which it has not done
since the days of Maui, the mistake would scarcely be possible,"
replied Maukaleoleo, with a smile upon his great face, and then,
with a few long strides, disappearing in the darkness.
It must have been at about the time of this interview that Hakau
was leaving the heiau at Waipio, after having invoked the auguries
of sacrifice and listened to the voice of Nunu from the darkness of
the inner temple. The king had scarcely passed the gate of the temple
leading to the sacred pavement of Liloa, which connected the heiau
with the royal mansion, and which privileged feet alone could tread,
when Nunu, after exchanging a few words with the high-priest, also
left the enclosure, but neither over the sacred pavement nor toward
the palace. Taking a path which did not seem to be new to him, from
the facility with which he traveled it by the light of the stars,
he crossed the valley and mounted the high ridge of hills enclosing
it on the southeast. Ascending the ridge for some distance, and until
the lights of the valley could no longer be seen, he proceeded slowly
upward, at intervals striking together two stones and listening for
a response. At length it came, like an echo of his own signal, and a
few minutes' walk brought him to a large heap of dry leaves and limbs,
from behind which Kakohe rose and greeted him.
"Fire it at once!" said Nunu. "I will explain all when the signal
is answered."
Behind a rock, a few paces away, a small fire was smouldering. Kakohe
sprang and seized a burning brand, which he applied to the heap,
and in a moment the red flames reached heavenward, throwing a lurid
light upon the surrounding hills.
With their backs to the fire the two priests looked anxiously toward
the south and east, and in a few minutes far in the distance gleamed
an answering flame. Satisfied that their signal had been seen and
responded to, they permitted the fire to die out, and then returned
to the valley to await the important events of the morrow.
Leaving the rendezvous of the rebels, Maukaleoleo slowly returned
to his station, for even his mighty limbs at times grew weary, and
the path leading up the mountain was obscure and narrow. Reaching the
summit, he examined a small fire hidden among the rocks, and was about
to stretch himself upon the ground, with his face turned eastward,
when he discerned a strange, star-like speck upon the horizon. For a
moment it paled, and then grew brighter and brighter. He stepped to a
tree near a huge pile of combustibles, and, glancing along a horizontal
limb that had been previously trimmed for the purpose, discovered that
it pointed directly toward the light. All doubt at once disappeared. He
knew it was the signal. Springing for a brand, the heap was lighted,
and by its wild glare in the darkness Maukaleoleo rapidly descended to
the valley. His fatigue had vanished, for the signal of Hakau's death
had been lighted by his own hands, and his great heart was in arms.
The signal was at once discerned by the watchmen at Umi's quarters,
and in a few minutes all was quiet commotion within the walls. Torches
were lighted, armed warriors sprang with alacrity into line, and half
an hour after Umi, in feather mantle and helmet plumed with royal
colors, and preceded by the war-god Akuapaao, borne upon a manele, or
palanquin, resting upon the shoulders of kahunas, with Kaoleioku as
high-priest, marched out of the enclosure, followed by two thousand
well-armed and devoted supporters. His address to his warriors was
brief. "The moments are precious," said Umi, "and must not be wasted
in words. Let our spears speak, and at sunset to-morrow we will eat
meat in peace in Waipio!"
As a measure of precaution, in case of disaster, a force sufficient to
hold the premises of the high-priest was left within the walls. The
advancing army was formed into three divisions, the right commanded
by Omaukamau and the left by Piimaiwaa, while Umi remained with the
centre. Their orders were to move rapidly, but as quietly as possible,
by three different routes, and form a junction at their intersection
with the alanui, or great path, leading from the coast to the inland
village of Waimea. This junction it was expected the left division,
traveling a difficult mountain-path, would be able to reach two or
three hours after sunrise.
It was, perhaps, an hour short of midnight when the last of the little
army left the enclosure, followed by two or three hundred women bearing
food, water, extra weapons and a variety of camp necessaries. The
warriors were full of enthusiasm, and when Maukaleoleo stepped in
among them from the mountains like a protecting deity their shouts
could scarcely be restrained. His appearance was most welcome to Umi,
who thanked him warmly for what he had done, and expressed a desire
that he would remain near him during the march, as his familiarity
with the mountains and their paths would render his advice valuable.
"But I see another mighty friend has opportunely reported," said Umi,
pleasantly, as he pointed toward the east. "As the moon is about to
look over the hills, the torches may soon be extinguished, for the
paths will be plainer without them."
The divisions separated, and, dispensing with their torches,
soon swarmed the several paths leading to Waipio. Each division
was preceded some distance in its march by a party of scouts, with
instructions to let no one pass to their front, lest he might be a
messenger of warning.
The paths were rough and in places almost choked with undergrowth,
and the advance was exceedingly laborious; but no word of complaint
was heard, and about the middle of the forenoon the left division, and
the last to arrive, reached the Waimea trail at a point leaving the
entire force but a short march to Waipio. A brief halt was ordered,
and the food and water brought by the women were served to their
relatives, and to others if any remained.
Taking no thought of himself, Umi advised his attendants to eat
if they could find food, declaring that he required nothing, and
then threw himself under the shade of a tree for a few minutes of
much-needed rest. A cool breeze fanned his heated face, on which the
beard had as yet grown but lightly, and his heavy eyelids closed,
dropping him gently into the land of shadows, where he bathed in
cool waters and partook of food that was delicious--more delicious,
it seemed, because it was served by Kulamea.
Something awoke him--he scarcely knew what--and his eyes caught the
form of a woman as it vanished behind the tree under which he was
lying. He smiled, and, partially rising, discovered on the ground
beside him a calabash of poi, reduced with water to the consistency of
thick gruel. His mouth and throat were parched, and, without stopping
to learn who had provided it, he raised the vessel to his lips and
drained it to the bottom. It was a goodly draught, and refreshed
him greatly.
Holding the empty calabash in his hand, he began to examine it,
at first carelessly, and then with greater interest, for it was not
a common vessel. Nor was it the first time that he had seen it. It
was the calabash he had carved with images of birds and flowers for
Kulamea before he went to Waipio to become the son of a king.
He beckoned to Maukaleoleo, who was leaning against a tree a few
paces distant, with his head among the branches. The giant smiled as
he approached, as if divining the question Umi was about to ask.
"Did you see the person who left this calabash?" inquired Umi,
exhibiting the vessel.
"I saw her," replied the giant.
"Then it was left by a woman?"
"By a woman."
"Did you observe her?"
"As closely as I ever observe any woman."
"What was her appearance?"
"Ordinary men would describe her, I presume, as being young, graceful
and attractive."
"And you?"
"I would call her a plaything, as I would any other woman whose head
did not touch my beard."
"True," said Umi, smiling as his fancy pictured a becoming mate for
the giant; "you can know but little of women. But would you recognize
the plaything who left this calabash, were you to see her again?"
The giant intimated that he would probably recognize her.
"Then seek among the women of the camp, and, if found, say to her
for Umi that if she prizes the calabash he will return it to her,
if she will claim it after the sun sets to-day and show that she is
the rightful owner."
Maukaleoleo bowed and departed on his errand, and Umi hung the calabash
at his girdle.
Another advance was ordered, and in an hour or less the little army
lay hidden along the brow of the ragged hills overlooking the valley
of Waipio on the south and east and extending to the sea. A fleet
messenger was despatched over the hills to a waterfall, the sound of
which could be heard dropping into the valley from a great height in an
unbroken cataract. He returned, bringing with him a strangely-marked
piece of kapa which he had found suspended from a limb near the verge
of the fall.
It was the final signal of Nunu, and implied that the king's attendants
had been sent to the mountains and sea-shore, and the palace was
defenceless. Preparations were made for an immediate descent into
the valley. As the paths leading down were tortuous and narrow, the
warriors were ordered to break ranks and make the descent as rapidly
and as best they could, and promptly re-form on reaching the valley.
The word was given, and the advance began. First the summit bristled
with spears, then down the hillsides swept a swarm of armed men. In
their rapid descent they seemed to be hopelessly scattered, but they
re-formed on reaching the valley, and in good order advanced toward
the little stream, across which was the royal mansion, and not far
from it the temple of Paakalani.
The wildest excitement prevailed in the village. Some seized
their arms, and others ran toward the hills, but no opposition was
offered. At the head of the little army marched Umi, himself almost
a giant, and by his side the mighty Maukaleoleo, naked but for the
maro about his loins, and bearing a ponderous spear, the ivory point
of which could be seen above the tree-tops.
Plunging into and crossing the stream, detachments were despatched at
a running pace to surround the royal enclosure and cut off all escape,
especially to the puhonui, while with the main force Umi advanced
to the great gate of the outer wall, which had been hastily closed
and fastened, and demanded admission. No reply being made, although
a confusion of voices could be heard from within Umi was about to
order up a force to beat down the gate when Maukaleoleo leaned his
spear against the wall, and, laying hold of a rock which no two
other men could lift, hurled it against the gate, and it was torn
from its fastenings as if struck by a missile from Kilauea. He then
seized the broken obstruction and flung it from the entrance as if it
had been a screen of matting, and Umi and his followers poured into
the enclosure. Driving before them a score or two of hastily-armed
attendants of the king, they raised a wild battle-shout and rushed
toward the palace.
So secret had been the movement of the insurgents, and so rapid was
their advance after reaching the valley, that Hakau was not made
aware of their presence until they began to cross the stream near
the royal mansion. The first information bewildered him. Recovering,
he ordered the gates to be closed and barred, and every one to arm
within the grounds. A messenger was sent to mount the walls and report
the probable number of the assailants; but the most of them were in the
stream at the moment of observation, and the king was relieved with the
assurance that the force did not number more than one or two hundred.
"Then we can beat them off until assistance comes," said Hakau,
confidently. "Hold the gates with your lives!" he shouted; then,
hastily entering the mua, he took from the ipu in which it was
deposited the Kiha-pu, the sacred war-trumpet of the Hawaiian kings,
and sprang to the front of the palace. He placed the shell to his
lips to sound a blast of alarm, which with the breath of Liloa was
wont to swell throughout a radius of ten or twelve miles. Filling
his lungs for a mighty effort, which he doubted not would bring to
his assistance the villagers and feather-hunters despatched to the
hills, he wound a blast through the shell. But no such voice ever
issued before from the mysterious chambers of the Kiha-pu. Instead of
a note of alarm swelling over the hills in wild and warlike cadence,
they gave forth a dreadful discord of torture-wrung screams and groans,
horrifying all within the walls, but scarcely audible beyond them.
Hakau dropped the shell to the earth as if his lips had been burned
with its kiss, and with a feeling of desperation seized a javelin and
grimly awaited the onset at the gate. His suspense was brief. The gate
went down with a crash; and when he saw his handful of defenders retire
before the incoming flood of warriors led by Umi, Hakau retreated to
the mua with three or four of his attendants, where he resolved to
defend himself to the death.
The door of the mua was scarcely barred before Umi reached it. A
hundred warriors pressed forward, but he waved them back. He looked at
Maukaleoleo, and the next moment the door was a mass of splinters. Umi
resolutely stepped within, Kaoleioku, the warrior-priest, at his
side. As he entered, with a hiss Hakau made a thrust at him with
his javelin. Umi caught and wrenched the weapon from his grasp,
and was about to strike when Kaoleioku stayed every uplifted hand
by exclaiming:
"Hold! Let this be a sacrifice, and not a murder! In the name of the
gods I slay him!"
With these words the high-priest drove his ihe through the heart of
Hakau, and he fell dying at the feet of Umi.
Hakau strove to speak, but his words were bitter and choked him.
"Bear him with respect to a couch," said Umi. "He is the son of a king,
and so let him die."
His orders were obeyed, and Hakau, the tyrant king of Hawaii, breathed
his last as Umi turned and left the mua.
The palace was now in the possession of Umi, with its gods, its
sacred emblems, its royal regalia and all the paraphernalia of supreme
authority; but he appreciated that much remained to be done, and that,
too, without delay. The feather-hunters would soon return from the
hills and sea-shore; but they could be dealt with in detail as they
arrived in small parties, and were, therefore, not greatly to be
feared. The distant chiefs summoned by the lunapais of the dead king
were the principal cause of anxiety. Some time during the next day
they would begin to arrive with their quotas of warriors, and Umi was
not quite confident that they would accept the situation peacefully.
To be prepared for any emergency, he ordered his entire force to
quarters within the palace grounds, despatched parties to procure
supplies of food, received the allegiance of the attendants and
guards found in and around the royal mansion, and sent out heralds
to proclaim the death of Hakau by the will of the gods, and the
assumption of sovereign authority by Umi, the son of Liloa.
The Kiha-pu was discovered near the door, where it had been dropped
by Hakau. No one dared to touch it. It was recognized by a chief
who had seen it before, and who guarded it until Umi appeared. The
chief pointed to the sacred shell, and with an exclamation of joy
Umi raised it to his lips and sounded a vigorous blast, which swept
over the valleys and echoed through the hills with its old-time voice
of thunder.
All within the walls were startled. Kaoleioku approached, and Umi
raised the shell and repeated the sonorous blast. "It is not the
breath of Umi," said the priest, impressively; "it is the voice of
the gods proclaiming their approval of the work of this day!"
The body of Hakau was removed to a small structure within the
enclosure, where it was given in charge of his wife and mother,
Kukukalani and Pinea, and their attendants, to be prepared for
burial. And Kapukini, the sister of Hakau and half-sister of Umi,
mourned with them; but her grief was not great, for Hakau had been
unkind even to her.
Before nightfall the feather-hunters began to come in; but the
situation was made known to them on reaching the valley, and such of
them as were not deterred by fear proceeded to the palace and gave
their adherence to Umi, thus relieving him of some slight cause
of apprehension, and considerably augmenting the strength of his
little army.
Umi's promise to his warriors was made good, for that night they ate
their meat in peace within the palace-walls at Waipio. All needed rest,
but not one of them more than Umi himself. The night was dark, but
the air was cool without, and after his evening meal Umi strolled out
and threw himself down on a fold of kapa under the palms in front of
the mansion. He was soon joined by Kaoleioku, his trusty lieutenants
Omaukamau and Piimaiwaa, and several chiefs of distinction.
The events of the day were being discussed, and the possibilities
of the morrow, when Maukaleoleo loomed up in the darkness like
the shadow of a palm, and requested permission to approach the
group. It was granted, of course, for the giant had proven himself
to be one of the stanchest and most valuable of Umi's friends. But
he was not alone. Behind him, and almost hidden by his burly form,
walked Kulamea. She wore a pau of five folds, and over her shoulders
a light kihei of ornamented kapa. Her black hair fell below her waist,
and a woven band of blossoms encircled her head.
"By your instruction," said the giant, bowing before Umi, "I sought out
the woman who left with you beyond the hills to-day a curiously-carved
calabash, and acquainted her with your wish that she should come to
you and claim it. But she feared to do so, because you are now the
king of Hawaii."
"Were I the king of the eight Hawaiian seas she should not fear,"
replied Umi. "Seek and say to her--"
"Let Umi speak the words himself," interrupted the giant; saying which,
he advanced a few paces into a better light, and, stepping aside,
Kulamea stood revealed before the group.
"Kulamea!" exclaimed Umi, rising.
"Kulamea!" repeated Omaukamau, in astonishment, for he did not know
before that his sister was in Waipio. "What evil spirit prompted you
to venture here at such a time as this?"
"Do not chide her, Omaukamau," said Umi, placing his hand tenderly
upon the shoulder of the fair playmate of his youth. "The triumph of
to-day is as much to her as it is to her brave brother, and no one
could be more welcome."
Omaukamau was silent, and Kulamea sank on her knees before Umi. He
raised her to her feet and kissed her; then, taking from his girdle
and placing in her hands the calabash she had come to claim, he said:
"In the presence of all here Umi returns this calabash to Kulamea,
his wife!" Then, leading her to her brother, he continued: "Give her
attendants, and see that she is provided with all else that befits her
station." Omaukamau kissed his sister, and led her into the mansion.
During this scene Maukaleoleo stood looking down upon the group with
folded arms and an amused expression upon his face.
"Perhaps I should have asked your consent," said Umi, smiling and
looking up into the face of the giant.
"Umi is now in a condition to take from his subjects without asking,"
pertinently replied the monster; "but in this instance there seems
to be no other claimant, and the title is unquestioned."
"And have I your approval as well?" inquired Umi, more seriously,
addressing Kaoleioku.
"Better than mine," replied the priest, warmly: "you have the approval
of the gods; for in fulfilling your pledge to a simple and confiding
woman you have kept faith with them."
The rest of the prominent events leading to, and connected with,
the accession of Umi to the moiship of Hawaii, will be very briefly
referred to. As the district chiefs and their warriors arrived at
Waipio in response to the call of the dead king, they accepted the
changed conditions without protest, and promptly tendered their
allegiance to Umi.
The second day after his death Hakau's remains were quietly and without
display taken to the hills and entombed, and the day following Umi
was publicly anointed king of Hawaii in the presence of nearly ten
thousand warriors. The games and festivities of the occasion continued
for ten days.
The Akuapaao was placed in the temple of Paakalani, and at the death
of the venerable Laeanui, which occurred shortly after, Kaoleioku,
who was of the family of Paao, was created high priest.
Omaukamau and Piimaiwaa became the confidential advisers of Umi,
as well as his favorite military captains, and Maukaleoleo served in
his many campaigns, his strength and prowess furnishing subjects for
numerous strange stories still living in Hawaiian tradition.
LONO AND KAIKILANI.
CHARACTERS.
Keawenui, king of Hawaii.
Kanaloa-kuaana,
Lonoikamakahiki and
Pupuakea sons of Keawenui by different mothers.
Kukailani, nephew of Keawenui.
Kaikilani, daughter of Kukailani.
Kakuhihewa, king of Oahu.
Lanahuimihaku, a chief of Oahu.
Ohaikawiliula, a chiefess of Kauai.
Heakekoa, a man of Molokai.
Kaikinane, a woman of Molokai.
LONO AND KAIKILANI.
A ROMANTIC EPISODE IN THE ROYAL ANNALS.
I.
What a hustling and barbaric little world in themselves were the eight
habitable islands of the Hawaiian archipelago before the white man
came to rouse the simple but warlike islanders from the dream they
had for centuries been living! Up to that time their national life
had been a long romance, abundant in strife and deeds of chivalry,
and scarcely less bountiful in episodes of love, friendship and
self-sacrifice. Situated in mid-ocean, their knowledge of the great
world, of which their island dots on the bosom of the Pacific formed
but an infinitesimal portion, did not reach beyond a misty Kahiki,
from which their fathers came some centuries before, and the bare names
of other lands marking the migratory course of their ancestors thither.
The Hawaiians were barbarous, certainly, since they slew their
prisoners of war, and to their gods made sacrifice of their enemies;
since no tie of consanguinity save that of mother and son was a bar
to wedlock; since murder was scarcely a crime, and the will of the
alii-nui on every island was the supreme law; since the masses were
in physical bondage to their chiefs and in mental slavery to the
priesthood. Yet, with all this, they were a brave, hospitable and
unselfish people. The kings of the islands of Hawaii, Maui, Oahu and
Kauai were in almost continual warfare with each other until brought
under one government by Kamehameha I.; but the fear of foreign invasion
never disturbed them, and the people, who feared their gods, reverenced
their rulers and possessed an easy and unfailing means of sustenance
and personal comfort, were content with a condition which had been
theirs for generations and was hopeless of amelioration; for the high
chiefs in authority claimed a lineage distinct from that of the masses,
and between them frowned a gulf socially and politically impassable.
The Hawaiians were never cannibals. The most conspicuous of their
barbarisms was the sacrifice of human beings to their gods; but
did not the temples of early Gaul and Saxon flow with the blood of
men? and did not one of the fathers of Israel sharpen his knife to
slay the body of his son upon the altar of the God of Abraham? They
knew but little of the arts as we know them now, and the useful and
precious metals were all unknown to them; yet they made highways over
the precipices, reared massive walls of stone around their temples,
carried effective weapons into battle, and constructed capacious single
and double canoes and barges, which they navigated by the light of
the stars. They had no language either of letters or symbolism, but
so accurately were their legends preserved and transmitted that the
great chiefs were able to trace their ancestry back, generation by
generation, to something like a kinship with the children of Jacob,
and even beyond in the same manner to Noah, and thence to Adam. What
wonder, then, that under their old kings the islands of Hawaii should
have been the home of romance, and that the south wind should have
sighed in numbers through the caves of Kona?
And now, borne by the soft breath of the tropics, let us be wafted to
the island of Hawaii, and backward over a misty bridge of historic
meles to the reign of Kealiiokoloa, a son of Umi and grandson of
the famed Liloa. It was during his brief reign--extending, perhaps,
from 1520 to 1530--that for a second time a white face was seen by the
Hawaiians. A Spanish vessel from the Moluccas was driven upon the reefs
of Keei, in the district of Kona, and completely destroyed. But two
persons were saved from the wreck--the captain and his sister. They
were first thought to be gods by the simple islanders; but as their
first request was for food, which they ate with avidity, and their next
for rest, which seemed to be as necessary to them as to other mortals,
they were soon relieved of their celestial attributes and conducted
to the king, who received them graciously and took them under his
protection. The captain--named by the natives Kukanaloa--wedded a
dusky maiden of good family, and the sister became the wife of a
chief in whose veins ran royal blood.
On the death of Kealiiokoloa his younger brother, Keawenui, assumed
the sceptre in defiance of the right of Kukailani, his nephew and son
of the dead king, who was too young to assert his authority. This he
was the better enabled to do in consequence of the sudden death of
the king, possibly by poison, before his successor had been formally
named. Keawenui's usurpation, however, was resisted by the leading
chiefs of the island, who refused to recognize his authority and
rose in arms against him. But he inherited something of the martial
prowess of his father, Umi, and, meeting the revolted chiefs before
they had time to properly organize their forces, destroyed them in
detail, and thereafter reigned in peace. Nor could it well have been
otherwise, for the bones of the rebellious chiefs of Kohala, Hamakua,
Hilo, Puna, Kau and Kona were among the trophies of his household,
and Kukailani, lacking ambition, was content with the lot of idleness
and luxury which the crafty uncle placed at his command.
And thus, while Keawenui continued in the moiship of Hawaii, Kukailani,
the rightful ruler, grew to manhood around the court of his uncle. In
due time the prince married, and among the children born to him was
Kaikilani, the heroine of this little story. At the age of fifteen
she was the most lovely of the maidens of Hawaii. Her face was fairer
than any other in Hilo, to which place Keawenui had removed his court;
and that is saying much, for the king was noted for his gallantries,
and the handsomest women in the kingdom were among his retainers. If
her complexion was a shade lighter than that of others, it was because
of the Castilian blood that had come to her through her grandmother,
the sister of Kukanaloa, and brighter eyes than hers never peered
through the lattices of the Guadalquivir.
Kaikilani became the wife of the king's eldest son, Kanaloa-kuaana,
and, in further atonement of the wrong he had done her father,
on his death-bed Keawenui formally conferred upon her the moiship
of Hawaii. Among the other sons left by Keawenui at his death was
Lono. His full name was Lonoikamakahiki. His mother was Haokalani,
in whose veins ran the best blood of Oahu.
Early in life Lono exhibited remarkable intelligence, and as he grew
to manhood, after the death of his father, in athletic and warlike
exercises and other manly accomplishments he had not a peer in all
Hawaii. So greatly was he admired by the people, and so manifestly
was he born to rule, that his brother, the husband and adviser of
the queen, recommended that he be elevated to the moiship, in equal
power and dignity with Kaikilani.
What followed could have occurred only in Hawaii. A day was appointed
for a public trial of Lono's abilities before the assembled chiefs of
the kingdom. Although but twenty-three years of age, his knowledge of
warfare, of government, of the unwritten laws of the island and the
prerogatives of the tabu was found to be complete; and Kawaamaukele,
the venerable high-priest of Hilo, whose white hairs swept his knees,
and who had foretold Lono's future when a boy, bore testimony to his
thorough mastery of the legendary annals of the people and his zeal
in the worship of the gods.
So much for his mental acquirements. To test his physical
accomplishments the chiefs most noted for their skill, strength
and endurance were summoned from all parts of the kingdom. It was a
tournament in which one man threw down the glove to every chief in
Hawaii. The various contests continued for ten consecutive days, in
the presence of thousands of people, and between the many trials of
strength and skill were interspersed feasting, music and dancing. The
scene was brilliant. More than a hundred distinguished chiefs, in
yellow mantles and helmets, presented themselves to test the prowess of
Lono in exercises in which they individually excelled. But the mighty
grandson of Umi vanquished them all. He outran the fleetest, as well on
the plain as in bringing a ball of snow from the top of Mauna Kea. On
a level he leaped the length of two long war-spears, and in uli-maita,
holua and other athletic games he found no rival. In a canoe contest
he distanced twelve competitors, and then plunged into the sea with
a pahoa in his hand, and slew and brought to the surface the body of
a large shark. He caught in his hands twenty spears hurled at him
in rapid succession by as many strong arms, and in the moku-moku,
or wrestling contests, he broke the limbs of three of his adversaries.
Among the witnesses of these contests was the still young and comely
Kaikilani. It is true that she had frequently met the young hero, and
regarded him with such favor as she might the brother of her husband;
but now, at the end of his victories, he appeared to her almost as a
god, with whom it would be an honor to share the sovereignty of the
kingdom; and when, amidst the plaudits of thousands, she threw the
royal mamo over his shoulders with her own hands, and in doing so
kissed his cheek, her husband saw that she loved Lono better than
she had ever loved him. "The gods have decreed it," said Kanaloa,
in sorrow, but with no feeling of bitterness, "and so shall it be!"
He consulted with the chiefs and high-priest, and at the conclusion
of a feast the same evening, given in honor of Lono, he took his
brother by the hand and led him to the apartment of the queen. As they
entered, Kaikilani rose from a soft couch of kapa, and waited to hear
the purpose of their visit; for it was near the middle of the night,
and but a single kukui torch was burning in front of the door. The
heart of Kanaloa fluttered in his throat, but he finally said, with
apparent calmness:
"My good Kaikilani, what I am about to say is in sorrow to myself
and in affection for you. Of all the sons of our father, Lono seems
most to have the favor of the gods. Is it strange, then, that he
should have yours as well? It is therefore deemed best by the gods,
the chiefs and myself that you accept Lono as your husband, and share
with him henceforth the government of Hawaii. Is it your will that
this be done?"
Kaikilani was almost dazed with the abrupt announcement; but she
understood its full meaning, and, after gazing for a moment into the
face of Lono and reading no objection there, she found the courage
to answer:
"Since it is the will of the gods, it is also mine."
"So shall it be made known by the heralds," said Kanaloa, bowing to
hide his grief, and leaving Lono and the queen together.
Thus it was that Lono, of whom tradition relates so many romantic
stories, became the moi of Hawaii and the husband of the most
attractive woman of her time, Queen Kaikilani.
II.
Peace and prosperity followed the elevation of Lono to the throne
of Hawaii. His fame as an able and sagacious ruler soon spread to
the other islands of the group, and his court as well as his person
commanded the highest respect of his subjects. Weary of inaction,
and having no desire to embroil the kingdom in a foreign war, he at
length concluded to visit some of the neighboring islands with his
queen, and particularly Kauai, which he had once seen when a boy.
Leaving the government in charge of his brother Kanaloa, Lono embarked
on his journey of pleasure with a number of large double canoes and
a brilliant retinue. He took with him poloulous, kahilis and other
emblems of state, and the hokeo, or large calabash, containing the
bones of the six rebellious chiefs slain by his royal father at the
beginning of his reign.
The double canoe provided for Kaikilani and her personal attendants
was fitted out in a manner becoming the rank of its royal occupant. It
was eighty feet in length, and the two together were seven feet in
width. Midway between stem and stern a continuous flooring covered
both canoes, which was enclosed to a height of six feet, thus providing
the queen with a room seven feet broad and twenty feet in length. The
apartment was abundantly supplied with cloths and mats of brilliant
colors, and the walls were decorated with festoons of shells and leis
of flowers and feathers. In front of the entrance stood two kahilis,
and behind a kapa screen was a carved image of Ku, surrounded by a
number of charms and sacred relics. The canoes were brightly painted
in alternate lines of black and yellow, while above their ornamented
prows towered the carved and feathered forms of two gigantic birds
with human heads. Forty oarsmen comprised the crew, and sails of mats
were ready to lift into every favoring breeze.
The double canoe of the king was smaller and less elaborately
ornamented; and as it moved out of the harbor of Hilo, bearing the
royal ensign and followed by the sumptuous barge of the queen and
the humbler crafts of servants and retainers, the shores were lined
with people, and hundred in canoes paddled after them to give them
their parting alohas beyond the reef. The auguries had not been
favorable. So said the high-priest, and so had the people whispered
to each other. But, after preparing for the journey, Lono could not
be persuaded to relinquish it. It was therefore with misgivings that
he was seen to depart; and for many days thereafter sacrifices were
offered for him in the temples, and a strict tabu was ordered for a
period of three days, during which time no labor was performed and
a solemn silence prevailed over all the land embraced in the dread
edict. Swine were confined, fires were extinguished, dogs were muzzled,
fowls were hidden under calabashes, and the priests alone were seen
and heard, and they but sparingly. Such was the strict tabu for the
propitiation of the gods in case of emergency or peril, and death
was the certain penalty of its violation.
The weather was fair, and the royal party first stopped at Lahaina. It
had been Lono's purpose to spend a week or more at the court of
Kamalalawalu, but the moi was absent at the time, and the squadron
left Maui the next day for Oahu. A fair wind wafted the party through
Pailolo channel to the western point of Molokai. The sky was clear,
and Lono began to discern the tops of the mountains of eastern Oahu,
when one of his nephews threw his spear into and wounded a large
shark which for some time had been slowly moving around the bows of
the canoe. In an instant the weapon was thrown back with a violence
which drove the point through the rim of the boat. Blood tinged the
waves, but the shark disappeared.
Before Lono could recover from his astonishment a furious wind rose
from the south and west, and the fleet was driven around to the
north side of Molokai, and finally succeeded in effecting a landing
at Kalaupapa. Two of the canoes were destroyed during the gale, and
the thoughtless young chief who cast the spear was washed into the
sea and devoured by a school of black sharks before assistance could
reach him. Landing with his party, Lono learned from a priest the
cause of the disaster that had overtaken him. It was the god Moaalii,
who had taken his characteristic form of a shark and was guiding the
fleet to Oahu, that had been wounded by Lono's nephew.
The weather continued boisterous for some days, and Lono and his
party became the guests of the chiefs of Kalaupapa. It was not a
very inviting spot, and to beguile the time Lono and Kaikilani amused
themselves with the game of konane, played upon a checkered board and
closely resembling the game of draughts. One day, when thus occupied
in the shade of a palm near the foot of an abrupt hill, Lono heard a
voice above them. He gave but little attention to it until the name
of Kaikilani was pronounced. He listened without raising his head,
and soon heard the voice repeat:
"Ho, Kaikilani! Your lover, Heakekoa, is waiting for you!"
Lono looked up, but could see no one above them. He inquired the
meaning of such words addressed to the wife of the moi of Hawaii;
but the queen, seemingly confused, was either unable or unwilling
to offer any explanation. Enraged at what he hastily conceived to
be an evidence of her infidelity, Lono seized the konane board and
struck her senseless and bleeding to the earth. Without waiting to
learn the result of his barbarous blow, Lono strode to the beach,
and, ordering his canoe launched, set sail at once for Oahu, without
leaving any orders for the remainder of the fleet.
As he shoved from the shore Kaikilani approached, and, holding out
her blood-stained hands, pitifully implored him to remain or take her
with him; but he waved her back in anger and resolutely put out to
sea. She watched the canoe of her impetuous husband until it became a
speck in the distance, and then with a despairing moan sank senseless
upon the sands.
Kaikilani was tenderly borne to her domicile by her attendants, and for
nine days struggled with a fever which threatened her life. During all
that time she tasted neither fish nor poi, but in her delirium appealed
continually to Lono, declaring that no one had called to her from the
cliffs. On the tenth day her mind was clear and she partook of food,
and then on her hands and knees a young woman crawled to the side of
her kapa-moe, and, having permission to speak, said:
"O queen, I am the innocent cause of your misery, and my heart breaks
for you. I am the daughter of the chief Keeokane, and he has sent me
to you. Heakekoa loves me, and it was my name, Kaikinane, that he
called from the cliffs, and not yours. It is better that confusion
should come to me than shame and grief to the queen of Hawaii."
Kaikilani admonished her attendants to remember the words of the
girl, that they might be able, if necessary, to repeat them to Lono,
and then dismissed her with presents and a promise to speak kindly of
her to her father, who was greatly annoyed at the distress which the
indiscretion of his daughter had brought to their distinguished guest.
As soon as she had sufficiently recovered, Kaikilani, not knowing what
had become of her husband, sorrowfully returned to Hawaii in the hope
of finding him there and explaining away the cause of his anger. But
the news of Lono's assault upon her and his sudden departure from
Molokai had preceded her, probably through the return of some of the
canoes of the fleet, and when she arrived at Kohala she found the
kingdom in a state of rebellion.
With the avowed intent of slaying Lono, should he return to Hawaii,
Kanaloa had assumed the regency, supported by the principal chiefs
of the island, the relatives of the queen, and all the brothers of
Lono with the exception of Pupuakea, a stalwart and warlike son of
Keawenui by an humble mother unnamed in the royal annals, and who
had large possessions in the district of Kau.
But Kaikilani still loved her hot-headed but instinctively generous
husband, and refused to give countenance to the revolt raised in her
behalf. She therefore hastily left Kohala at night, and, so sailing
as to escape the observation of the rebels, suddenly appeared off the
coast of Kau and placed herself in communication with Pupuakea, the
only chief of note that still adhered to the fortunes of Lono. He had
succeeded in rallying to the support of his cause a very considerable
force, but he knew that it would avail him little against the united
armies of the opposition, and after a full consideration of the
situation it was decided that Pupuakea should remain on the defensive
until the return of Lono, of whom Kaikilani resolved to go at once
in search.
With this understanding Kaikilani, inspired by the hope of winning back
her husband's love, after a few preparations started on her errand;
but not before she had made sacrifices to the gods and implored
their assistance, and Pupuakea brought word to her from the temple
that the auguries of her journey showed a line of dark clouds ending
in sunshine. But what cared she for clouds, if the sunshine of Lono's
presence was to come at last? But where was Lono? Perhaps in the bottom
of the sea; but, if alive, she resolved to find him, even though the
search took her through all the group to the barren rocks of Kaula.
Rounding the capes of Kau and sailing nearly northward, Kaikilani
first stopped at Lahaina; but a week spent there convinced her that
Lono was not on the island of Maui. The moi treated her with great
respect and kindness, and offered to assist in the search for her
husband on the other islands; but she declined his services, and next
visited Lanai. Causing a thorough search to be made of that island,
and despatching a party to the windy wastes of Kahoolawe, the queen
proceeded to Molokai, to assure herself that Lono had not returned to
Kalaupapa, and then set sail for Oahu. She first landed at Waikiki, on
that island, but, learning that the king had established his court at
Kailua, departed for that place the next day, and reached it without
difficulty, for the captain of her crew was the distinguished old
navigator, Kukupea, who for a wager, in the reign of Keawenui, had made
the direct passage in a canoe between the Hawaiian bay of Kealakeakua
and the island of Niihau without sighting intermediate land.
III.
Leaving Kaikilani entering the bay of Kailua, it will be in order to
briefly refer to the adventures of Lono after his sudden departure from
Kalaupapa. Half-crazed at what had occurred, to divert his thoughts
from his cruelty he seized a paddle, and vigorously used it hour
after hour until he was compelled to cease through exhaustion. The
wind was fair, but, inspired by his example, twenty others plied
the paddle ceaselessly in turns of ten, and in a few hours the royal
canoe was hauled up on the beach of Kailua, on the northwestern coast
of Oahu, where, as before stated, Kakuhihewa, the moi of the island,
had temporarily established his court.
As Lono approached the shore his state attracted attention. A chief
and priest, who had at one time been in the service of Lono's father,
recognized the sail and insignia of the craft, and informed the king
that it must be that some one nearly connected with the royal family
of Hawaii had come to visit him. This secured to Lono a cordial and
royal welcome. Houses were set apart for his accommodation, and food
in abundance was provided for him and his attendants. Although he
scrupulously concealed his name and rank, and in that respect enjoined
the closest secrecy upon his attendants under penalty of death, his
commanding presence and personal equipment rendered it apparent that
he was either one of the sons of Keawenui or a chief of the highest
rank below the throne.
Pleading fatigue, and courteously desiring to be left to himself
until the day following, Lono partook of his evening meal, sent from
the table of the king, alone and in silence, and at an early hour
retired to rest. But the heat was oppressive, and thoughts of Kaikilani
disturbed his slumbers, and near midnight he strolled down to his canoe
on the beach to catch the cool breeze of the sea. While there another
double canoe arrived from Kauai, having on board a high chiefess,
who was on her way to Hawaii and had touched at Kailua for fresh water.
To pass the time Lono engaged in conversation with the fair stranger,
and so interested her that she repeated to him twice a new mele that
had just been composed in honor of her name--Ohaikawiliula--and which
was known only to a few of the highest chiefs of Kauai. Portions of
the celebrated chant are still retained by old Hawaiians.
The mele diverted his mind from bitter thoughts, and when he returned
to his couch he enjoyed a refreshing sleep. At daylight the next
morning the king, without disturbing his royal guest, repaired to
the sea-shore for his customary bath just as the Kauai chiefess
was preparing to depart. Making himself known to her, she recited
to him until he was able to repeat the new mele, and then made sail
for Hawaii. As she had arrived after midnight, and the mele was new,
the king was pleased at the thought of being able to surprise Lono by
reciting it to him; but his amazement was great and his discomfiture
complete when, on meeting his guest after breakfast and bantering him
to repeat the latest Kauaian mele, Lono recited in full the poem he
had so quickly and correctly committed to memory the night before. This
incident is related by tradition in evidence of Lono's mental capacity.
Notwithstanding the mystery which surrounded him at the court of Oahu,
Lono soon became a great favorite there. No one could throw a spear
so far or so accurately, and in all games and exercises of strength
or skill he found no equal. He was generous and fearless, and in
his pastimes reckless of his life. Although he was beset with their
smiles and blandishments, women seemed to have no charm for him, and he
politely but firmly declined to avail himself of that feature of early
Hawaiian hospitality which held a host to be remiss in courtesy if he
failed to provide his guest with female companionship. He preferred
the sturdier contests of men, and introduced to the Oahuans a number
of new games of skill and muscle.
While the most of the chiefs were generous admirers of the
accomplishments of their unknown visitor, a few were jealous
of his popularity, among them the grand counselor of the king,
Lanahuimihaku, who on one occasion sneeringly referred to him as
"a nameless chief." To this taunt Lono, towering above his traducer
with a menace of death in his face, replied that he would flay
him alive if he ever met him beyond the protection of his king;
and then he brought from his canoe the great calabash of bones, and,
exhibiting the trophies of his father's prowess, chanted the names of
the slain. This apprised them all that he was indeed a son of Keawenui,
but which one they did not know.
But Lono's stay in Kailua was drawing to a close, for one day, while
he was playing konane with the king within the enclosure of the palace
grounds, Kaikilani's canoe was being drawn up on the beach below. She
saw, to her great joy, the canoe of her husband, and ascertained where
he might be found. Proceeding alone toward the royal mansion, with a
fluttering heart she approached the enclosure, and through an opening
in the wall discerned the stalwart form of Lono. Stepping aside to
avoid his gaze, she began to chant his mele inoa--the song of his own
name. He was startled at hearing his name mentioned in a place where
he supposed it to be unknown. He raised his head and listened, and,
as the words of the mele floated to him, he recognized the voice of
Kaikilani. Rising to his feet, with dignity he now addressed the king:
"My royal brother, disguise is no longer necessary or fitting. I am
Lonoikamakahiki, son of Keawenui and moi of Hawaii, and the gods have
sent to me Kaikilani, my wife. It is her voice that we now hear."
Then, turning and approaching the wall behind which Kaikilani
was standing, Lono began to chant her name, coupled with words of
tenderness and reconciliation; then, springing over the obstruction,
he clasped his faithful wife in his arms, and the past was forgiven
and forgotten.
The rank of his guests now being known, Kakuhihewa was anxious to
give them a befitting recognition; but, learning of the revolt in
Hawaii and the peril of Pupuakea, Lono embarked for his kingdom at
once. Reaching and passing Kohala, where he learned the rebels were in
force, he landed at Kealakeakua, and immediately despatched a messenger
to Pupuakea, in Kau, with information of his arrival in Puna. The
brother responded promptly, and, leading his forces over a mountain
path to avoid the coast villages, joined Lono at Puuanahulu. Meantime,
Lono's name had brought thousands to his standard, and on the
arrival of Pupuakea he boldly attacked and defeated the insurgents
at Wailea. They were followed and again defeated at Kaunooa.
Reinforcements reaching the rebels from Kohala, two other battles
were fought in rapid succession, both resulting in their defeat. In
these engagements two of Lono's brothers were slain, and the body of
one of them was offered as a sacrifice at the heiau of Puukohola.
The last of the rebels were defeated at Pololu, and the island returned
to its allegiance to Lono and Kaikilani. Kanaloa-kuaana, who originated
the revolt, also submitted, and was forgiven and restored to favor
through the intercession of the queen.
The legends relate many subsequent romantic adventures of Lono; but
he and Kaikilani both lived to good old ages, and when they died were
succeeded in the sovereignty of Hawaii by lineal blood.
THE ADVENTURES OF IWIKAUIKAUA.
CHARACTERS.
Kaikalani, queen of Hawaii.
Makakaualii, brother of Kaikilani.
Iwikauikaua, son of Makakaualii.
Kanaloa-kuaana and
Kanaloa-kakulehu, princes of Hawaii.
Kealiiokalani, daughter of Kaikilani.
Keakealanikane, son of Kanaloa-kuaana.
Keakamahana, daughter of Kealiiokalani.
Kaihikapu, king of southern Oahu.
Kauakahi, daughter of Kaihikapu.
Kauhiakama, moi of Maui.
Kapukini, queen of Maui and sister of Iwikauikaua.
Mahia, chief of Kahakuloa, Maui.
THE ADVENTURES OF IWIKAUIKAUA.
A STORY OF ROYAL KNIGHT-ERRANTRY IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY.
I.
One of the most interesting characters distinctly observed among
the misty forms and dimly outlined events of the remaining Hawaiian
traditions of the sixteenth century is Iwikauikaua. In him the
knight-errantry of the period found a distinguished exponent and
representative, and his deeds add a bold tint to the glow of romance
and chivalry lighting up the life and reign of the great Lono, and lend
a lustre to the names and events with which they are associated. Of
royal lineage, but without estates or following beyond his personal
attendants, he sought his fortune with spear and battle-axe, and in
the end became the husband of a queen and one of the ancestors of a
long line of kings.
As he was the nephew of Queen Kaikilani--whose reign in Hawaii,
including that of her husband, Lono, embraced, it may be presumed,
the period between the years A.D. 1565 and 1595--and was a stout
friend and supporter of the ruling family, a proper understanding
of the rank, position and aspirations of Iwikauikaua necessitates a
brief reference to the strange political events which surrounded his
youth and conspired to shape his romantic career.
When Kealiiokoloa, the son of Umi, suddenly died, in about A.D. 1535,
after a reign of perhaps not more than ten years, he left as his heir a
young son named Kukailani. His right to the throne was unquestioned,
but, as he had not been formally designated by his father as his
successor, Keawenui, the younger brother of the dead king, assumed
the sceptre, and maintained his claim to it by meeting in battle and
slaying the six principal chiefs of the island who rebelled against
the usurpation.
Kukailani seems to have possessed but little force or spirit, and was
content during his life with such maintenance as his uncle was willing
to provide. In due time he married, and became the father of Kaikilani
and Makakaualii. The former became the wife of Kanaloa-kuaana, the
eldest son of Keawenui, and subsequently the wife of his brother Lono,
as related in the legend of "Lono and Kaikilani." As if desirous
of atoning for the injustice done to his nephew, Kukailani, on his
death-bed Keawenui named as his successor Kaikilani, daughter of the
deposed prince, and wife of Kanaloa-kuaana, his own son. Why Keawenui
restored the sceptre to his brother's family through Kaikilani instead
of her brother, Makakaualii, finds ready explanation in the fact that
Kaikilani was the wife of his eldest son, through which union both
families would thereafter share in the sovereignty.
Makakaualii, whose claims to the moiship were thus overlooked or
disregarded by Keawenui, was the father of our hero, Iwikauikaua. But,
if wrong was done in the matter, it was never openly resented by
either father or son, and Iwikauikaua always remained the steadfast
friend of his royal aunt, Kaikilani.
The position of Kukailani, on the death of his father, was such
as could have been patiently borne only by one entirely destitute
of ambition. Custom would have accorded him ample estates and a
following consistent with his rank; but his crafty uncle did not
deem it prudent to tempt him to rebellion by according him even the
powers of a district chief. It was safer for him to remain at court,
living upon the bounty and under the watchful eye of Keawenui. He was
doubtless a high officer of the royal household, retaining the tabus
and meles of his family, and receiving the respect due to his rank;
but no lands were set apart for him, and he had no retainers beyond
his personal attendants.
But Kukailani seemed to be content with his situation, and so utterly
indifferent to the rights of his family that it does not appear
that he ever demanded a more befitting recognition of the claims of
the children born to him. Hence, like their father, Makakaualii and
Kaikilani were compelled to live upon the bounty of the king until
the latter was chosen to the succession.
And this was also the inheritance of Iwikauikaua, the son of
Makakaualii. He was a landless chief of royal blood, and circumstances
indicate that he was quite a youth when Keawenui died and Kaikilani
assumed the sceptre. He grew to manhood around the court of his royal
aunt, and was among the many who rejoiced when Lono became her husband
and, with her, the joint ruler of Hawaii.
In person he was handsome and imposing, and his accomplishments
befitted his rank. Through Kaikilani the moiship had been restored
to the Kealiiokoloa branch of the royal family, but the previous
usurpation had left him without estates, and less near than was his due
to the throne, and he chafed under his hard fortune and resolved to
retrieve it--not by rebellion or trespass upon the rights of others,
but through the channels of bold and legitimate endeavor. When a boy
a kaula told him that he would die either a king or the husband of a
queen, and he never forgot the prophecy. In fact, it seems to have
taken possession of him and to have become the guiding star of his
early life.
Iwikauikaua makes his first appearance as a striking and consequential
figure of Hawaiian tradition in the midst of the revolt of
Kanaloa-kuaana and other chiefs of Hawaii against Lono. The revolt
was organized during the absence of Lono and Kaikilani on a friendly
visit to the other islands of the group, and embraced nearly every
prominent chief in the kingdom. They had resolved to kill Lono should
he return to the island, and the conspiracy seemed to be as formidable
as time and determination could make it. With a single exception,
all the brothers of Lono were arrayed against him, and his cause was
considered almost hopeless.
The rebellion had its origin, avowedly, in a report that Lono had
in a fit of jealousy killed Kaikilani on the island of Molokai;
but other motives must have existed, for the return of Kaikilani
with her husband to Hawaii did not put an end to the uprising, but
rather stimulated the conspirators in their resolution to wrest the
sovereignty of the island from Lono at all hazards.
The only brother of Lono who refused to join in the conspiracy was
Pupuakea. He was the sturdy and warlike son of Keawenui by a mother
whose name is not mentioned by tradition, and was endowed with lands
in the district of Kau. Removing in early manhood to his estates
in that district, he seldom visited the court and took no part in
its bickerings. As his mother was doubtless of an humble family, he
was not considered the equal in rank of the other sons of Keawenui,
and therefore preferred to reside where he would not be continually
reminded of his inferiority. When the revolt against Lono was
organized he was invited by Kanaloa-kuaana to give it his support;
but no promises of lands were made to him, as to other distinguished
chiefs, nor was he deemed to be of sufficient consequence to entitle
him to a voice in the councils of the rebels. This slight of Pupuakea
led to the defeat and ruin of the conspirators. The chief of whom
they thought so little had developed into a leader of influence and
ability in his distant home, and it was around him that was gathered
the nucleus of the force which in the end gave victory to Lono.
When Kaikilani returned alone from Molokai, and found the kingdom
on the verge of revolution, she secretly consulted with Pupuakea,
as almost the only chief of consequence to be relied upon; and when
she next returned with Lono, Pupuakea was at the head of a force large
enough to overawe the rebels of Kau, but too small to venture beyond
that district without support.
The main rebel army was concentrated in the district of Kohala, which
Lono avoided on his return from Oahu, landing at Kealakeakua, on the
coast of Kona. It was early in the morning when the canoes of Lono,
bearing a small party of attendants, were drawn up on the beach. No
one was there to oppose him: but the rebels were in possession of all
the machinery of the government, as well as five of the six divisions
of the island, and the outlook would have been gloomy to any one less
resolute and daring than Lono. He had less than a hundred followers,
and, taking from his canoe the hokeo, or calabash, containing the
bones of the six rebellious district chiefs slain by his father,
placed it within a sanctuary of mats on the beach, and beside it raised
the royal standard and kahilis. This done, he summoned the people to
arms, started a courier to Pupuakea, and despatched lunapais to the
neighboring chiefs, commanding them to march to his assistance at once.
But the people were timid. The revolt was not popular, but the cause of
Lono seemed to be hopeless, and the masses hesitated. The hesitation
was brief, however. Late in the afternoon a force of five or six
hundred warriors was observed approaching from the northward. Lono
hastily prepared for the best defence possible, and for retreat to
his canoes should he be unable to hold his ground. Nearer and nearer
came the threatening column. It was finally halted within two hundred
paces of Lono's position, when from the front rank emerged a tall
young chief in feather cape and helmet. At the end of his spear was
displayed a large ti leaf as a token of peace. Accompanied by two aids
bearing weapons similarly bedecked, he boldly strode past the lines
of Lono and asked for the king. He was conducted to his presence,
and, observing Kaikilani beside her husband, was about to kneel when
Lono stepped forward and grasped him by the hand, exclaiming:
"Welcome, Iwikauikaua, for I know you come as a friend!"
"Yes, I come as a friend," replied the chief, "and have with me a
few brave warriors, whose services I now tender."
"But are you not afraid to be the friend of Lono at such a time as
this?" inquired the king, glancing admiringly at the bold front of
the young chief. "The whole island seems to be in arms against me."
Lono knew he was exaggerating the danger, but desired to learn
the worst.
"No, not the whole island," promptly replied the chief. "Pupuakea
will soon join us with three thousand spears or more, and it will
not be long that Lono will lack warriors."
"You are right," returned the king, hopefully; "we will find spears
and axes enough in the end to clear a way to Kohala."
Kaikilani joined Lono in thanking her nephew for his timely assistance,
and Iwikauikaua retired to find quarters for his followers and arouse
others to the defence of the king.
The appearance of the young chief with his few hundreds of warriors
was indeed most opportune. It inspired the people with confidence
in the success of Lono, and they began to rally to his support in
large numbers; and, observing that the tide was turning in his favor,
the neighboring chiefs came to his assistance with their followers,
thus swelling his force within three days to as many thousands of
warriors of all arms.
Hastily organizing his little army, Lono boldly pushed on toward
Kohala, steadily recruiting his ranks as he moved, and at Puuanahulu
was joined by Pupuakea with nearly three thousand additional spears
from Kau. Thus enabled to operate on the offensive, he attacked and
defeated the rebel army at Wailea, and again at Puako, or at some
point not far north of that place.
After the second engagement the rebels retreated northward, and,
receiving reinforcements from Kohala, made another stand at Puupa,
where they were again defeated, but through some mishap Iwikauikaua was
taken prisoner. They then fell back to Puukohola, near which place a
large heiau was maintained at that time. There Kanaloa-kakulehu, one of
the brothers of Lono, resolved to sacrifice the distinguished prisoner.
Iwikauikaua received the announcement stoically. He was conducted
to the altar within the heiau. The assistants were in readiness to
take him beyond the walls for execution, and the priests were in
attendance to offer the sacrifice in due form to Kanaloa-kakulehu's
god of war. Ascending the steps of the altar, the young chief turned
to the high-priest and said:
"I am ready, but it is not the will of the gods that I should be
offered."
"What know you of the will of the gods?" answered the priest, sternly.
"And what know you," returned the chief, "since you have not inquired?"
Such questioning was not common at the altar, and for a moment the
priest was disconcerted. Finally he said:
"You say it is not the will of the gods. Make it so appear, and your
life shall be spared; but if you fail your right eye shall see the
left in my hand, and you will be slain with torture."
"So let it be!" exclaimed the chief; and, lifting his face upward, he
addressed an audible prayer to Ku, Uli and Kama. As he proceeded with
the solemn invocation not an unfavorable omen appeared. The winds died
away and the birds in the neighboring trees remained silent. Concluding
the prayer, he folded his arms and stepped down from the altar. By
an unseen hand the cords that bound his limbs had been cut, and he
approached the high-priest and bowed before him. This manifestation
of the will of the gods could not be mistaken, and Iwikauikaua was
conducted to a hut within the heiau, where he was advised to remain
until he could leave the place in safety. No hostile hand could be
laid upon him within the walls of the temple. There he was under the
protection of the high-priest, and beyond the reach of the highest
temporal authority.
But Iwikauikaua did not long require the protection of the heiau. At
daylight the next morning Lono attacked the rebels at Puukohola,
and after an obstinate battle defeated them, taking prisoner his
brother Kanaloa-kakulehu, whom he promptly ordered to be sacrificed
at the heiau. As he was brought to the altar for that purpose,
his last moments were embittered by the farewell which Iwikauikaua
waved to him with simulated grief as he left the enclosure to join
the victorious army. Although Lono had directed the sacrifice of
his brother in retaliation for the supposed death of Iwikauikaua,
he did not countermand the order, as he might have done in time,
when he found the latter had miraculously escaped.
Several other battles were fought, in all of which Iwikauikaua took
a distinguished part, and the island returned to its allegiance to
Lono and Kaikilani. The services of Papuakea were rewarded with such
additional lands of deceased rebel chiefs as he chose to accept, and
Iwikauikaua was offered possessions either in Kona or Hamakua, or a
military charge in the royal household. But in the end he decided
to accept neither. They presented to him no opportunity for such
advancement as the gods had promised, and which now, since their
manifestation in his favor at Puukohola, seemed to be almost assured
to him.
He had fixed his eye upon his pretty cousin Kealiiokalani, the daughter
of Kaikilani. She stood close to the throne, and evinced a decided
partiality for the dashing young chief. The gossip of the court was
that the princess loved Iwikauikaua and would be more than content to
become his wife. But royal marriages in all ages and in every clime
have been less a suggestion of hearts than of state considerations;
and so it was in this instance. Unknown to all but himself, it was
the fair face of the princess that had prompted him to espouse the
cause of Lono when it seemed to be almost hopeless, and his services
certainly entitled him to almost any reward; but Keakealanikane,
the son of Kaikilani by her first husband, Kanaloa-kuaana, had been
named as successor to the moiship, and Kealiiokalani was selected to
become his wife. Such marriages of close kinship were not uncommon
among the chiefly families of ancient Hawaii, and the children born
to them were accorded the very highest rank.
This arrangement for the succession left Iwikauikaua little to
hope for on Hawaii, and he determined to seek his fortune among
the other islands of the group. Tempting inducements were held out
to him to remain, but he declined them all. To the princess alone
he whispered that her betrothal to Keakealanikane had rendered his
departure advisable, and she grieved that circumstances had decreed
their separation. Ambition doubtless first attracted him to his fair
cousin; but her nature was gentle and loving, and he finally regarded
her with a sincere and romantic attachment, which she seems to have
fully reciprocated.
II.
In a large double canoe, painted red, and at its masthead flying the
pennon of an aha-alii, Iwikauikaua, with a score or more of attendants,
set sail from Kohala in quest of adventure. Passing Maui, he spent some
time in visiting the small island of Lanai, where he was entertained in
a princely manner by the leading chiefs. Proceeding thence to Molokai,
he remained a week or more in the neighborhood of Kalaupapa, and then
sailed for Oahu.
He landed at Waikiki, on that island, and was well received by
Kaihikapu, one of the three principal chiefs of Oahu. His father was
the noted Kakuhihewa, who had entertained Lono during his voluntary
exile, and who at his death, a short time before, had divided the
island among his three oldest sons, leaving the dignity of moi
to Kanekapu. Harmony existed among the brothers, and all of them
followed the example of their father in maintaining attractive petty
courts and imposing establishments. The moi retained possession of
the royal mansion at Kailua, which was two hundred and forty feet
in length and ninety in breadth, and adorned with all the taste and
skill of the period.
Kaihikapu had a princely mansion at Ewa, but his court was at Waikiki
at the time of the arrival of Iwikauikaua. The young chief, whose
rank was at once recognized, was provided with quarters for himself
and attendants near the court, and soon became a favorite with the
nobility. The part he had taken in the battles of Lono, together with
his miraculous escape at the temple of Puukohola, became the talk of
the court, and he was treated as a hero.
In the pleasure of the courts of Oahu, Iwikauikaua spent a number
of years on the island, and finally became the husband of Kauakahi,
daughter of Kaihikapu. It was not a love-match, at least so far as
Iwikauikaua was concerned, for after his marriage he squandered the
most of his time for some years in roaming from district to district
and giving little heed to the future. At length he began to crave a
more active life, and was about to seek it on some other island when
the noted war of the Kawelos, of Kauai, gave employment to his spear.
Kawelo had been driven from Kauai by his cousin, and, finding
refuge in Oahu, had been given lands in the Waianae Mountains by
Kaihikapu. Instead of settling there in peace, he began to construct
canoes and prepare for a return to Kauai with a force sufficient to
maintain himself on that island. Kaihikapu was finally induced to
assist him, and so substantially that he invaded Kauai, deposed and
killed his cousin, and assumed the moiship. Iwikauikaua took part in
the expedition, but became disgusted with the jealousies of the Kauai
chiefs and returned to Oahu at the close of the war, without attempting
to avail himself of the opportunities afforded by the rebellion.
His marriage with Kauakahi promised him no advancement. His hair
began to be tinged with gray, and the future presented to him no
sign of the fulfilment of the prophecy of his youth. He consulted
the kaulas, but they gave him no satisfaction. One of them told him,
however, that his fortunes lay to the windward, and he provisioned
a double canoe, and, with a competent crew and a few retainers, set
sail in that direction without taking leave of any one. He stopped
for a few days on Molokai, and a kaula there advised him to go to
Maui. He accordingly set sail for that island, where resided two
of his sisters, whom he had not seen for many years. One of them,
Kapukini, was the wife of Kauhiakama, the moi of Maui; and the other,
Pueopokii, of Kaaoao, a prominent chief of Kaupo.
He landed at Lahaina, and made himself known to Kapukini. Their
greeting was affectionate, and they had much to relate of their past
lives. She was the only wife of Kauhiakama, and he was astounded to
hear that the aged moi had started two days before with a hostile army
for Oahu. The object of the invasion was not clear, but Iwikauikaua
felt satisfied that it would end disastrously, and impatiently awaited
the result. The only son of Kapukini had reached his manhood, and
Iwikauikaua advised his sister to prepare for his installation as
moi, expressing the opinion that Kauhiakama would never return. His
surmises proved to be correct. Within ten days a mere handful of the
force with which the moi had embarked for Oahu returned, bringing
news of the defeat and death of Kauhiakama.
The moi had landed at Waikiki, where he was met and defeated by
the united chiefs of Oahu. He was slain during the battle, and his
body was taken to the heiau of Apuakehau, where it was treated with
unusual indignity--so unusual, in fact, that Kahekili, the moi of
Maui, many generations after remembered the act, and retaliated in
kind upon the chiefs captured by him in his conquest of Oahu.
Kauhiakama had always been a rash and visionary leader, and his
tragical end did not surprise Iwikauikaua. It was on his report that
his warlike father, Kamalalawalu, had invaded Hawaii, and met defeat
and death at the hands of Lono, and with equal thoughtlessness he
had thrown a small invading force into the most thickly populated
district of Oahu, and led it to slaughter.
But, whatever may have been the weaknesses of Kauhiakama, a lack of
courage was certainly not one of them, and the news of his death,
together with that of the indignity visited upon his remains, created
a wild excitement among the chiefs of Maui. His son was installed as
moi without opposition, and a general demand for revenge went up from
the whole island. Large quotas of warriors were offered from every
district, and the young moi was implored to baptize the beginning of
his reign with the best blood of Oahu.
But Iwikauikaua advised the excited chiefs to act with discretion. No
one more than himself felt like avenging the death of Kauhiakama, who
was the husband of his sister; "but," he said to them, "the chiefs of
Oahu are united, and a war upon one of them means a conflict with the
whole island. Their spears are as long and as many as ours, and their
knives are as sharp; therefore let not the chiefs of Maui be hasty."
Many of the chiefs agreed with Iwikauikaua that an invasion of Oahu
in revenge for the death of their moi would not be advisable, and the
newly-anointed king was of the same opinion; but others, especially
those who had lost friends or relatives in the late expedition,
clamored for war, and not a few of them intimated that the advice
of Iwikauikaua was inspired either by friendship for the Oahuans or
personal cowardice.
These insinuations reached the ear of Iwikauikaua, and the manner in
which he repelled them was bold and effective. Three hundred chiefs of
the higher grades had gathered to take part in the installation of the
new moi, and such of them as were entitled to a voice in the national
councils were assembled to discuss the project of war and such other
matters as they might be requested to consider. As a near relative of
the royal family, Iwikauikaua had been invited to participate in the
deliberations, but he had modestly refrained from urging his opinions,
and had thus far spoken only when directly appealed to. Several
remarks of a sneering character had been dropped within his hearing,
and finally a chief from Wailuku, glancing insultingly toward him,
declared that the chiefs of Maui were "not afraid to use their spears."
Iwikauikaua could no longer bear these taunts in silence. With a dark
scowl upon his handsome face, he rose to his feet and impetuously
replied:
"Nor am I afraid to use mine, either in defence of the moi of Maui or
in challenge to any chief here who presumes to doubt my courage! I
scorn to defend myself with words! Without these walls, with spear
and battle-axe, I am prepared to answer one and all!"
Several chiefs sprang to their feet, as if to accept the bold
challenge, and confusion for a time prevailed; but order was restored
when Mahia, the venerable chief of Kahakuloa, rose and, commanding
silence, said:
"Chiefs of Maui, hear my words and be calm. We have invited Iwikauikaua
to advise with us, and by insulting him we degrade ourselves. He is
high in rank and distinguished for his courage. He was the friend of
the great Lono, of Hawaii, and a leader in his battles. He is the
brother of Kapukini, and our respect is his due. Some of you have
spoken words which seem to hold his valor lightly, and he has answered,
as I would have answered had the complaint been mine, by inviting
you to test the courage you doubt with spear and battle-axe. No other
answer could have been made by a brave man, and we should respect the
nobility that prompted it. We should say to Iwikauikaua, whose body
is scarred with the teeth of many battles: 'We have spoken hastily;
let us now be friends!'"
The effects of the eloquent words of the old warrior were
magical. Those who had offended made prompt retraction, and looks
and expressions of courtesy and kindness came to Iwikauikaua from
all parts of the council. By reputation he was known to many of the
older chiefs, and when they recounted to the younger his chivalrous
services in the wars of Hawaii he was overwhelmed with manifestations
of respect and kindly feeling.
The demand for an invasion of Oahu with a large force steadily
abated with discussion and a better understanding of the danger and
uncertainty of the project, and was entirely abandoned with the sudden
appearance of a fleet of hostile canoes off the coast of Honuaula. It
was a strong predatory expedition from Hawaii. Several villages had
been plundered on the southern coast, and Wailuku was now threatened.
Lono, the warlike king of Hawaii, had been dead for some years,
and under the reign of Keakealanikane several of the more powerful
of the district chiefs had assumed an attitude of comparative
independence. The most noted of these were the I family, of Hilo,
and the Mahi chiefs, of Kohala. Each could muster some thousands of
warriors, and occasional plundering or retaliatory expeditions were
undertaken to the other islands without the knowledge or countenance
of the sovereign authority.
The fleet discovered off the coast of Honuaula, and reported by runners
to the moi, was from Kohala and under the command of one of the Mahi
chiefs in person. As the young moi was unused to war, Iwikauikaua
offered his services, and with fifty chiefs and two thousand warriors
crossed the mountains and drove the plunderers from the coast. As it
was surmised that other expeditions of a similar or more aggressive
character might follow, the chiefs found employment for some time
in repairing canoes, establishing signals, and placing their coast
settlements in better conditions of defence.
Returning to Lahaina, Iwikauikaua learned from a Hilo chief on a
visit to relatives in Kauaula that Keakealanikane, king of Hawaii,
had recently died, and that Kealiiokalani, his wife, could not
long survive a cancerous ailment of the stomach with which she was
afflicted. The mention of the name of that princess brought back a
flood of tender and romantic memories, and Iwikauikaua resolved to
revisit his native island. He was begged by the young moi to remain as
his mahana and chief counsellor, a position to which his rank entitled
him; but he seemed to hear the voice of the dying princess calling to
him from Hawaii, and with becoming state set sail at once for Hilo,
where the royal court had been temporarily established.
It was past midnight of the second day of his departure from Lahaina
when Iwikauikaua reached Hilo. He landed quietly, making himself known
to no one. He found the place still in mourning for the deceased moi,
and learned that Keakamahana, the elder of the two daughters and
only children of Kealiiokalani, had been formally installed as moi,
or queen, the day before, with the royal mother as chief adviser
or premier.
Early next morning Iwikauikaua, clad in a feather cape and other
insignia of rank, and accompanied by a number of attendants, proceeded
to the royal mansion. Being a chief of unquestioned rank, he was
admitted to the pahale, but, on applying for an audience with the queen
or her first counsellor, was told that the former was still in mourning
and could not be seen, and the latter was too ill to receive visitors;
but a proffer was made to carry any message he desired to either.
"Then take to Kealiiokalani the words that her cousin, Iwikauikaua,
is at her door," said the chief.
At the mention of his name the kahu in attendance, a venerable chief,
regarded the visitor for a moment with amazement. He had fought by
his side in the wars of Lono, and in his face recognized the dashing
young chief who a generation before had been saved by the gods from
sacrifice at Puukohola.
"Iwikauikaua, indeed!" exclaimed the kahu, with emotion. "I know you
well. Years ago our spears drank blood together, from the shores of
Kona to the high lands of Pololu!"
Iwikauikaua was pleased at the recognition, and, after exchanging a
few pleasant words with the old kahu, the latter conveyed his brief
message to Kealiiokalani. She was in her own apartment at the time,
reclining on a soft couch of kapa, and surrounded by a group of silent
and sad-eyed attendants. Near her sat Keakamahana, the fair young moi,
who was doing all that affection could suggest to soothe and strengthen
her suffering mother. Prayers had been said, offerings to the gods
had been made, and renowned kahunas had resorted to the most potent
herbs, charms and incantations known to them in behalf of the royal
sufferer. But nothing could stay the dreadful malady that was eating
away her life, and all hope of her recovery had been abandoned. The
cancerous gnawing was declared by the priests to be the work of an
evil spirit, which prayer and sacrifice could not dislodge.
The kahu delivered the message of Iwikauikaua with some hesitation,
for the condition of the patient had become more critical since the
death of her husband. But when she heard the name of the visitor,
and learned that he was without, her eyes assumed something of the
brightness of her girlhood, and she ordered him to be admitted at once.
As Iwikauikaua entered he was silently conducted to the couch of
Kealiiokalani. For a moment he gazed at her wan face; for a moment
she glanced at the gray hairs which the years had brought to him since
he said farewell to her in Kohala. He knelt beside the couch. He took
her hand and held it to his heart, and the silence that followed best
interpreted the thoughts of both.
Rising, and learning to his embarrassment that the young woman whom
he had scarcely noticed was Keakamahana, daughter of Kealiiokalani
and queen of Hawaii, Iwikauikaua knelt respectfully before her,
and gallantly kissed the hand with which she gave him welcome. A low
order was given to an attendant by the mother, and in a moment she
was alone with the queen and Iwikauikaua. Casting her eyes around and
observing no others present, she beckoned them closer, and in broken
sentences said:
"The black kapa will soon cover me. Listen, Iwikauikaua! Early in life
it was in our hearts to be the husband and wife of each other. It
was the fault of neither that we were denied that hope. It was not
my fault that you left Hawaii. It was not your fault that I grieved
when you went to other lands. But you have returned at last. The gods
have directed you back to Hawaii. They will give to me in death what
they refused to my youth. In Keakamahana I will be your wife!"
She paused for a moment, her listeners bending over her in silence,
and then continued:
"Take him as your husband, Keakamahana. He is the gift of your
mother. He is brave and noble, and you will need his counsel when I
am gone."
Overcome by these words of affection, the chief knelt beside the couch,
and the eyes of Keakamahana were filled with tears.
"Do you promise?" inquired the mother.
"I promise," replied the queen, giving her hand to the kneeling chief.
"I promise," repeated Iwikauikaua, as he clasped and kissed the
proffered pledge.
"I am content," returned the sufferer, as a smile of happiness lighted
up her face.
The attendants were recalled, wondering what had occurred, and
Iwikauikaua, almost bewildered, took his leave.
Tradition plainly recites the brief remainder of the career of this
distinguished chief. Kealiiokalani died a few days after the strange
betrothal just noted, and Iwikauikaua became the husband of Queen
Keakamahana, thus romantically fulfilling the aspiration and prophecy
of his youth.
Their daughter, Keakealani, succeeded her mother as queen of Hawaii,
and one of her husbands was the son of Iwikauikaua by the wife left
by him in Oahu.
With this adventurous and erratic chief originated, it is claimed,
the custom of burning kukui torches by daylight on state occasions,
especially in connection with the obsequies of persons of royal
lineage; and it was within the present generation that the exclusive
right to the ceremonial was contested by the two royal families
claiming the prerogative through descent from Iwikauikaua. Certain
customs, like chants and meles, are matters of inheritance, and remain
exclusively in the families with which they originate.
THE PROPHECIES OF KEAULUMOKU.
CHARACTERS.
Kahekili, moi of Maui.
Kalaniopuu, king of Hawaii.
Namahana, widow of Kamehamehanui.
Keeaumoku, a royal chief of Hawaii.
Kahanana, a warrior of Waihee.
Mahihelelima, governor of Hana, Maui.
Kaahumanu, daughter of Keeaumoku.
Kameeiamoku and
Kamanawa, brothers of Keeaumoku.
Kiwalao, son of Kalaniopuu.
Keaulumoku, the poet-prophet of Hawaii.
Kamehameha I., the conqueror of the group.
Keoua, half-brother of Kiwalao.
Keawemauhili, a royal chief of Hawaii.
THE PROPHECIES OF KEAULUMOKU.
THE CAREER OF KEEAUMOKU, THE PRINCE-SLAYER AND KING-MAKER.
I.
The days had just begun to lengthen after the summer solstice of
1765 when a great grief fell upon the royal court of the island of
Maui. Kamehamehanui, the king, had died very suddenly at Wailuku,
which had been his favorite place of residence, and his brother and
successor, Kahekili, had removed his court to Lahaina. The bones of
the dead king had been carefully secreted, the customary mourning
excesses had been indulged in, and many new apportionments of lands
had been made in accordance with the bequests of the deceased moi
and the will of his successor.
Kamehamehanui was an amiable sovereign, but his reign was not as
successful as that of his father, Kekaulike. His right to the sceptre
had been contested by his brother, Kauhia, and he was secured in it
only through the efforts of Alapainui, the king of Hawaii. Subsequently
Kalaniopuu, the successor of Alapainui, wrested from him the district
of Hana and the celebrated fortress of Kauwiki, and retained possession
of both at the time of Kamehamehanui's death. The lands of the district
might have been recaptured, perhaps, but the fortress commanding them
was well-nigh impregnable, and Hana remained a dependency of Hawaii.
Kamehamehanui's political wife was his half-sister Namahana, with
whom he had two children; but as both of them died in their infancy,
his brother, Kahekili, succeeded him as moi of the island by common
consent. After the death of his brother, Kahekili at once removed his
court to Lahaina, where the customary period of mourning was concluded.
It was while the members of the royal family were still in mourning at
Lahaina that a distinguished stranger suddenly landed, with a number
of personal attendants, and presented himself at court. His double
canoe bore the ensign of an alii, and his garb and bearing showed
him to be of the higher nobility. His age was perhaps thirty years,
although he looked somewhat older. He was over six feet in height, and
well proportioned. His face was handsome, and his hair and beard were
closely cropped. He was clad in a maro and short feather mantle, and
around his head was bound a single fold of yellow kapa. By a cord of
hair was suspended from his neck a palaoa, or carved whale's tooth, and
his left wrist was ornamented with a bracelet of curious shells. He was
courageous, courtly, and in his best moods agreeable and captivating,
and was a splendid representative of the rude chivalry of his time.
As he stepped ashore and proceeded to the royal mansion, way was
respectfully made for him, even as a stranger of distinguished bearing,
and his name secured him admission at once to the presence of Kahekili,
who welcomed him to Lahaina, and set apart ample accommodations for
himself and lodgings for his attendants.
Who was this stranger? He was no common chief who would have thus
presumed to present himself at the court of the moi of Maui and
expect the courtesy of royal entertainment. Two generations before
Lonoikahaupu, who had peacefully inherited the sovereignty of the
western side of the island of Kauai, while the noted Kualii, of Oahu,
retained possession of the remainder, paid a royal visit of state
to the windward islands of the group. His blood was of the best in
the archipelago, and his equipment and retinue were brilliant and
imposing. He embarked with a number of large double canoes, the
royal kaulua being over eighty feet in length, and was attended by
a company of skilled musicians and dancers. He also took with him
his chief navigator, priest and astrologer, and a corps of personal
attendants in keeping with his rank.
In turn he visited Oahu, Maui and Molokai, where he was entertained
with distinguished honors, and then set sail for Hawaii, of which
Keawe was then king. Touching at Hilo, he found that the royal court
had been temporarily established in Kau, and thither he proceeded,
to pay his respects to Keawe and his beautiful but volatile wife
and half-sister, Kalani-kauleleiaiwi. He was becomingly received
and entertained by the royal couple, and spent some weeks in the
enjoyment of the festivities arranged for his amusement. The result
was that the queen became enamored of the handsome Kauaian king,
who was duly recognized at once as one of her husbands.
From this union a son was born, who was named Keawepoepoe, when the
father returned to Kauai and there remained. This son grew to manhood,
and by marriage with Kumaiku, of the royal line of Maui, became the
father of the three distinguished chiefs who, with Keawe-a-Heulu, were
the leading captains of Kamehameha in the conquest of the group at
the close of the eighteenth century. One of these sons of Keawepoepoe
was Keeaumoku, the Warwick of his time, the slayer and maker of kings.
Keeaumoku's first effort in king-making occurred in 1754. On the
death, in that year, of his uncle Alapainui, and the succession of
his cousin Keaweopala to the Hawaiian throne, he became dissatisfied
with his allotment of lands and raised the standard of revolt in
Kekaha. Defeated, he fled in his canoes to Kau, where Kalaniopuu had
for some years maintained himself in independence of Alapainui. Joining
their forces, they marched northward, defeated and slew Keaweopala in
Kona, and Kalaniopuu, who was the grandson of Keawe and had a valid
claim to the sovereignty, was proclaimed moi of Hawaii.
It is probable that Keeaumoku's services were substantially rewarded by
Kalaniopuu; but in his early years he was turbulent and hot-tempered,
and in 1765 he found a pretext for hurling defiance at the king and
fortifying himself in the northern part of Kohala. Kalaniopuu promptly
placed himself at the head of an adequate force, took the fort by
assault, and crushed the rebellion with a single blow. But Keeaumoku
escaped over the pali alone, reached the beach, secured a canoe and
paddled out to sea. Night coming on and the skies being clouded,
he lost his way and nearly perished through thirst and hunger; but
he finally reached Lanai, where he found friends, and not long after
sailed for Maui in a well-equipped double canoe and a respectable
retinue of attendants. He landed at Lahaina, and the reader need not
be told that the distinguished stranger who so suddenly presented
himself at the court of Kahekili, as already mentioned, was Keeaumoku.
The occupation of the district of Hana by the king of Hawaii was
a source of irritation to Kahekili, and he welcomed Keeaumoku, not
more as an enemy of Kalaniopuu than as a chief who might be useful
to him in the war which he then meditated for the recovery of the
captured territory.
But Keeaumoku was not content to subsist upon the favor of Kahekili. In
his veins ran the blood of kings, and his pride rebelled against a
life of dependence, however attractive it might be made for him. But
he was without available lands or revenues, for his rebellion against
Kalaniopuu had deprived him of both, notwithstanding his inalienable
landed rights in South Kona, and he began to cast about for the means
of raising himself again to the dignity of a landed chief.
His eyes soon fell upon the comely Namahana, widow of Kamehamehanui. To
her belonged the fair and fertile lands of Waihee. But she was the
inheritance of Kahekili, whose purpose it was to accept her as a
wife at the end of her period of mourning. This must have been known
to Keeaumoku, who was thoroughly acquainted with royal customs of
his time; yet he paid such court to the sorrowing dowager, and so
sweetly mingled his protestations of love with her sighs of grief,
that she became his wife without consulting with the moi.
Kahekili was naturally enraged at the union, and was about to manifest
his displeasure in a manner dangerous to Keeaumoku, when Namahana
retired with her new husband to her estates at Waihee. Kahekili's first
impulse was to follow and slay them both; but as Namahana was popular
with the nobility, and Kahekili had not been in power long enough to
be quite sure of the fealty of the chiefs, he discreetly concluded
to leave to the future the punishment of the offending couple.
Taking up his residence at Waihee, Keeaumoku enlarged and beautified
his grounds and buildings, and established a petty court of princely
etiquette and appointments. He was fond of display, and soon attracted
to Waihee many of the more accomplished young chiefs of the island. The
mother and two of the brothers of Namahana attached themselves to the
household, and a number of Molokai chiefs, despoiled of their lands
by the king of Oahu, became his retainers. He had carefully trained
bands of musicians and dancers, and his entertainments were frequent
and bountiful.
In the midst of this semi-royal gayety and splendor Kahekili quietly
crossed the mountains and temporarily established his court at
Wailuku, but a few miles from Waihee. He had heard of Keeaumoku's
royal style of living, and desired to learn from personal observation
whether it was inspired by an innocent love of display or designs
more ambitious. As Keeaumoku had rebelled against two successive
Hawaiian sovereigns, and boldly seized the widow of a king in the
very household of her royal claimant and protector, Kahekili had
reason to regard him with suspicion, and a week's stay at Wailuku,
during which reserved courtesies had been exchanged between them,
convinced him that Keeaumoku was a dangerous subject. But how was he
to be dealt with? He had committed no act of treason, and an assault
upon him would not be sustained by the chiefs.
In this dilemma Kahekili resorted to strategy. He induced Kahanana,
a resolute warrior and subordinate land-holder of Waihee, to embroil
Keeaumoku in a difficulty with his own people. To this end Kahanana
complained--probably without cause--that he had been frequently
neglected by the servants of Keeaumoku in the distribution of fish
after fortunate catches, and urged his grievance with so good a showing
of sincerity that many of his friends stood prepared to espouse his
quarrel. This done, he armed himself for battle, and, the following
night, killed three of Keeaumoku's laborers. Being attacked in return,
he was at once supported by a party of warriors secretly detailed for
that purpose by Kahekili, and a general fight resulted, which lasted in
a desultory way for three or four days. In the end, however, Keeaumoku
and his party were overpowered and compelled to seek safety in flight.
Keeaumoku and Namahana, with her mother and two brothers, and a
considerable following of chiefs and retainers, escaped over the
Eka mountains and embarked for Molokai. But Kahekili was not content
with the escape of Keeaumoku from Maui. He resolved to destroy him,
and soon after invaded Molokai with a large force. Keeaumoku and his
allies met the invaders in war-canoes as they approached the shore. A
desperate sea-fight followed, which was continued long into the night
by torchlight; but Keeaumoku was again defeated, and with difficulty
escaped to Hana with Namahana and her relatives.
This placed Keeaumoku beyond the reach of Kahekili, for that district
of Maui was still under Hawaiian control; but in escaping from one
enemy he was compelled to throw himself upon the mercy of another. He
was hospitably received, however, by Mahihelelima, the governor
of the district, and was so far forgiven by Kalaniopuu as to be
permitted to remain under the protection of the fortress of Kauwiki,
where for some time, in the shaded valleys at the base of Haleakala,
he found a respite new to his turbulent life.
II.
In a secluded valley within sight of the fortress of Kauwiki, with a
few devoted friends and attendants, Keeaumoku and his family lived
unmolested and almost unnoticed for several years. It was a season
of peace between Hawaii and Maui, and Keeaumoku spent his days in
dreaming of wars to come, and political changes that would place him
again in a position more consistent with his rank. He made spears
and battle-axes, and laid them away; he constructed canoes and housed
them near the neighboring beach.
He loved his wife, who was content to share his exile, and when,
in 1768, a daughter was born to him, Keeaumoku felt that the gods
were smiling upon him once more, and took courage. It is said that
the child was born with a yellow feather in her hand--a symbol of
royalty--and she was named Kaahumanu and tenderly cared for.
In 1775 Kalaniopuu, king of Hawaii, suddenly appeared in the district
of Hana with a considerable force, and began to ravage the neighboring
lands of Kaupo. Kahekili promptly met and repulsed him, however,
and he returned to Hana and abandoned the campaign by re-embarking
with his shattered army for Hawaii. Keeaumoku took no part in
the brief struggle, and was disappointed that nothing decisive
had been accomplished. The death of either of the two sovereigns
engaged would have been to him a signal of deliverance. But he was
not disheartened. He knew the war would soon be resumed on a grander
scale, and found partial contentment in the hope that it would result
in changes favorable to his fortunes.
Exasperated at his defeat, Kalaniopuu spent nearly two years in
preparing for a crushing invasion of Maui. In honor of his war-god,
Kaili, he repaired and put in order two heiaus, and instructed his
high-priest, Holoae, to maintain continuous religious services,
and exert his highest powers to accomplish the defeat and death of
Kahekili. He landed with six heavy divisions of warriors on the
southern coast of Maui, but was defeated with great slaughter in
the neighborhood of Wailuku, and compelled to sue for peace. With
him were the two brothers of Keeaumoku, Kameeiamoku and Kamanawa,
who attended the young Prince Kiwalao in his visit of conciliation
to Kahekili after the battle.
Kalaniopuu returned to Hawaii with what remained of his army, and
the next year again invaded Maui, and for several months carried on
a desultory warfare with Kahekili in the several districts of the
island. He was assisted by the governor of Hana, and was able for
some time to maintain a foothold in Hamakualoa and elsewhere.
Keeaumoku offered his services to neither side, but remained a quiet
and almost unobserved spectator of the hostile movements which at
intervals convulsed the island, and sometimes swept past the very
door of his exile home in Hana. The proper time for him to act had
not yet arrived, and years of solitude had schooled him to patience.
It was during this campaign that Captain Cook, the celebrated English
explorer, arrived off the coast of Maui with the two vessels under his
command, exhibiting faces that were new to the natives, and ships which
seemed to be the ocean palaces of their gods. This was in November,
1778. In January of that year Cook had touched the group for the
first time. He had landed at Kauai and Niihau, and had now returned
from the Arctic seas to winter among the Hawaiian Islands.
Abandoning the fruitless war, Kalaniopuu returned to Hawaii with
his invading army. During the campaign of the year before he had
been assisted to the extent of a battalion of warriors by Kahahana,
king of Oahu. Among the followers of the Oahuan moi at that time
was the celebrated poet and prophet Keaulumoku. He was a native of
Naohaku, in the Hamakua district of Hawaii, and was distantly related
to Kahekili, being a son of a cousin of Kekaulike, the father of
Kahekili. From his youth he was dreamy and psychologic, and spent
his time in roaming among the hills, watching the stars and listening
to the music of the ocean. Some years before he had become attached
to the court of Kahahana, and had followed that sovereign to Maui in
1777. He remained on the island after the return of Kahahana to Oahu,
and the year following, when Kalaniopuu again invaded Maui, the poet
was found among his household.
Although but sixty-two years of age, in appearance Keaulumoku was much
older. His eyes were bright, but his form was bent, and his white hair
and beard swept his shoulders. When he sang all listened, and his wild
utterances were treasured up and repeated as inspirations from the
gods. He was known on all the islands of the group, and it was safe
for him to travel anywhere. He had been a friend of Keeaumoku, many
years before, on Hawaii, and when he learned, during the campaign of
1778, that the unfortunate chief was an exile in Hana and had ceased
to be accounted among the leaders of the time, he resolved to visit
and console him.
Without making his purpose known to any one, Keaulumoku crossed the
mountains, and, the third day, stood before his friend in Hana. Their
greeting was affectionate, and after eating they sat down and wailed
over Keeaumoku's misfortunes. Then Namahana came with stately grace
to welcome the old poet, bringing with her Kaahumanu, who was then a
bright-eyed child of ten. He kissed the hand of Namahana, advising
her to be of good cheer, and, embracing the child and looking into
her eyes, told her that his dreams that night should be of her. And so
they were, for the next morning he solemnly sang in the shade of the
palms that Kaahumanu would be loved by a chief of renown and become
the wife of a king.
"And what of her father?" inquired Keeaumoku. "Is he to rot with his
spears in Hana?"
"No," replied the poet, promptly. "The great work of Keeaumoku's life
is still before him. He will become the slayer of princes and maker
of kings."
"One have I already helped to royal honors," returned the chief,
doubtingly, "and by his favor I am stifling here in Hana."
"Another and a greater is still to follow, in whose service Keeaumoku
will die in peace," answered the poet.
"Who is the coming hero?" inquired the chief.
"You will not mistake him when you meet," was the evasive reply.
"And when will that be?" ventured Keeaumoku.
No reply being made, the chief continued:
"Well, no matter when; I have learned to be patient!"
The predictions of the poet extended no farther; but his words cheered
the heart of Keeaumoku, and when he left for Lahaina the next day,
grateful eyes followed his footsteps far into the mountains.
Returning to Hawaii after his unsuccessful campaign of 1778, Kalaniopuu
remained for a time in Kona, and after the death of Captain Cook,
in February, 1779, removed his court to Kohala, taking with him the
poet Keaulumoku. The next year, feeling his end approaching--for he
was nearly eighty years of age--Kalaniopuu set his kingdom in order by
proclaiming his son Kiwalao as his successor, and naming his nephew,
Kamehameha, as the custodian of his war-god. He then put down the
rebellion of Imakakaloa in Kau, and, after changing residences two or
three times for his health, finally died at Kailikii, in January, 1782.
A few months before the death of Kalaniopuu, Kahekili, learning of
the failing health of his old opponent, prepared for the recovery
of the district of Hana, which had been for nearly forty years under
Hawaiian rule. Marching into the district and investing the fortress
of Kauwiki, he finally reduced it by cutting off its water-supply,
and Eastern Maui again became a part of the dominions of the moi of
Maui. This occurred about the time of the death of Kalaniopuu.
But what became of Keeaumoku and his family, whose home for years
had been among the hills of Hana? Learning of the meditated invasion
of the district, and unwilling to trust himself to the mercy of
Kahekili, Keeaumoku fled with his family to the almost barren island
of Kahoolawe, where he lived in seclusion until after the fall of
Kauwiki and death of Kalaniopuu, when he boldly returned to Hawaii,
quietly settled on his old and inalienable estates at Kapalilua, in
South Kona, and awaited the development of events, which he plainly
perceived were rapidly and irresistibly tending toward wide-spread
revolution and disorder. For more than fifteen years he had heard
the clash of arms only at a distance, and he yearned for the shouts
of battle and the music of marching columns.
The mourning for Kalaniopuu continued for many weeks, and
rumors unsatisfactory to the Kona chiefs were afloat concerning
the new moi's proposed division of the lands subject to royal
apportionment. Preparations for the burial of the bones of the deceased
king were finally completed. In double canoes, one of them bearing
the corpse of his royal father, Kiwalao set sail with a large party of
chiefs, warriors and retainers for Honaunau. There it was his purpose
to deposit the remains in the neighboring burial-place of Hale-a-Keawe,
sacred to the ashes of Hawaiian kings, and then proceed with the
redivision of such of the lands of the kingdom as were at his disposal.
When off Honokua the second day, Keeaumoku came down from Kapalilua
and boarded the fleet. His avowed purpose was to wail over the body
of Kalaniopuu. His return to Hawaii had become generally known,
and Kiwalao regarded with a curiosity not unmixed with suspicion the
warring and impetuous chief, who had been first the friend and then
the enemy of his father, and who had suddenly emerged at a critical
moment full-armed from the obscurity of years.
What was the object of Keeaumoku's visit to the mourning fleet? Was
he anxious, on the eve of stirring events, to behold the face of the
young king, remembering the words of Keaulumoku, "You will know him
when you meet"? Perhaps. But, whatever may have been his original
purpose in visiting the fleet, when he left, in keeping with the
turbulent instincts of his life, his thoughts were aglow with projects
of rebellion.
Hastening to Kehaha, where his brothers, Kameeiamoku and Kamanawa,
with Kamehameha, Kekuhaupio and other chiefs, were in council,
Keeaumoku informed them that the destination of Kiwalao was Kailua,
which place he would proceed to occupy after depositing the royal
remains at Honaunau. This information, he declared, was given to him
by one of Kiwalao's attendants.
Not doubting the truth of Keeaumoku's story, and believing it to be
the purpose of Kiwalao to occupy the entire district of Kona, which
embraced lands not subject to royal disposal, the assembled chiefs
moved with their followers and occupied quarters in the neighborhood
of Honaunau.
Keeaumoku now became a leading spirit in the events which rapidly
followed. The funeral cortege landed at Honaunau, the remains of the
dead king were ceremoniously entombed at Hale-a-Keawe, and Kiwalao
ascended a platform, and to the assembled chiefs proclaimed the will
of his father. In the divisions of lands that followed the Kona chiefs
were not consulted; nor does it appear that they were additionally
provided for, and Keeaumoku had little difficulty in persuading them
that they had been treated with intended disrespect and hostility.
In an interview with Kiwalao, Kamehameha was coolly received, and
the disaffected chiefs began to prepare for battle. They selected
Kamehameha as their leader, and for some days there was a vigorous
mustering of forces on both sides. An attack was finally made by the
rebellious chiefs, and a battle of some magnitude ensued. Keeaumoku
was again in his element. His voice was heard above the din of battle,
and his famished weapons drank their fill of blood. Entangled with
his spear, he fell upon the rocky ground. Several warriors rushed
upon him. Two of them attacked him with daggers, while a third struck
him in the back with a spear, exclaiming, "The spear has pierced the
yellow-backed crab!"
Kiwalao, not far distant, witnessed the encounter, and called to
the assailants of Keeaumoku to secure his palaoa, or ivory neck
ornament. The attention of Kamanawa was attracted to the struggle,
and he sprang with a few followers to the assistance of his brother,
driving back his assailants. At that moment Kiwalao was struck in
the temple with a stone, and fell stunned to the ground. Observing
the circumstance, Keeaumoku crawled to the fallen king, and, with a
knife edged with sharks' teeth, cut his throat.
With the death of Kiwalao the rout of his army became general. The
victory made Kamehameha master of the districts of Kona, Kohala and
Hamakua, while Keoua, the brother of Kiwalao, held possession of
Kau and Puna, and Keawemauhili declared himself independent of both
in Hilo.
Keeaumoku's brilliant part in this first of the battles of the period
for the sovereignty of Hawaii established him at once in the favor of
Kamehameha, and raised him high in the esteem of the distinguished
chiefs whose valor ennobled the closing years of barbaric supremacy
in the group.
III.
War soon occurred between Kamehameha and the independent chiefs
of Hilo and Kau, but, as no marked advantages to either side
resulted, Kamehameha established his court at Halaula, in Kohala,
and occupied himself in improving the condition of his people. During
the campaign he had met with some reverses, but Keeaumoku's faith
in the final triumph of his great leader remained unshaken through
every disaster. He thought he saw in him that captain, greater than
Kalaniopuu, of whom the poet dreamed in Hana, and was soon after
confirmed in the belief by the definite prophecy of Keaulumoku.
Restlessly roaming from place to place, the old singer finally
selected a temporary abode near Halaula, shortly after the removal
of the court of Kamehameha to that village. There he was frequently
visited by Keeaumoku, sometimes accompanied by Kaahumanu, who was
budding into an attractive womanhood, and sometimes by Namahana, who
regarded him with a reverence due to one whose utterances seemed to
be inspired by the gods.
Since the death of Kalaniopuu the voice of Keaulumoku had been
silent. He mourned over the distracted condition of the island,
and sympathized with the people in their enforced warfare with each
other. Vainly had he sought to penetrate the mists of desolation and
disorder, and catch a glimpse of what was beyond. No light had come
to him through the clouds; to his prayers no answering voice had
whispered in his dreams.
But the curtain was raised for him at last, and, as the shades of
the future trooped before him in awful pantomime, in a voice wild
as the winds sweeping through the gorge of Nuuanu he chanted the
prophetic mele of Hau-i-Kalani. After describing the horrors of the
civil war then desolating the island, he concluded by predicting that
Kamehameha would triumph over his enemies, and in the end be hailed
as the greatest of Hawaiian conquerors.
The chant created great enthusiasm among the followers of
Kamehameha. Keeaumoku listened to it with rapt attention, and at its
conclusion stooped over the old poet and said:
"I asked you a question in Hana, which you did not answer then. Is
it answered now?"
Keaulumoku looked into the face of the chief for a moment as if to
collect his thoughts, and then dreamily replied:
"It is answered!"
"Such was my thought," returned the chief. "I have some rare dainties
from the sea. Come and eat with me to-night, and I will ask to be
taught the mele you have just chanted."
Keaulumoku made no reply, and Keeaumoku walked slowly toward the
palace, trying to remember the words of the poet which had so thrilled
his listeners.
What occurred between Keeaumoku and the old poet during their repast
that evening will never be known; but certain it is that henceforth
Keeaumoku never doubted the final success of Kamehameha, and when, in
the summer of 1785, the latter retired discomfited from an invasion of
Hilo, Keeaumoku smiled as he said to his chief: "Thus far you have only
skirmished with your enemies; you will win when you fight battles!"
In 1784 Keaulumoku died. For months the old poet had lived alone
in a hut near Kauhola. He avoided company and seldom spoke to any
one. Feeling his end approaching, he one day announced that the evening
following he would chant his last mele. Hundreds collected around
his hut at the time appointed. They did not enter, but sat down,
conversing in whispers, and respectfully waited.
An hour passed, and another, but the old singer did not make
his appearance. Finally the mat which served as a door was drawn
aside, and Keaulumoku's white head and bent form were seen in the
opening. Seating himself within view of all, he began to chant a
mele in tremulous tones. As he proceeded his voice became louder,
and every word was breathlessly listened to. He spoke of the coming
conquest of the group by Kamehameha, whom he designated as the son
of Kahekili, and also as "the lone one." He also predicted the early
extinction of the Kamehameha dynasty, the domination of the white race,
the destruction of the temples, and finally the gradual death of the
Hawaiian people. Concluding his chant, the old seer raised his hands
as if to bless his listeners, and fell back dead. A great wail went
up from the people, and they tenderly bore the body of the dead poet
to the heiau, where it was accorded the burial rites of a prophet.
Much of the last prophecy of Keaulumoku was preserved and repeated,
and by conversing with the many who listened to it Keeaumoku managed
to secure a satisfactory version of the final song of the dying poet.
From the first of Kamehameha's battles Keeaumoku had not doubted
the triumph of that chief over all adversaries in the end, and
eagerly grasped at every circumstance calculated to strengthen the
conviction. So believing, his way seemed to be clear.
But what of Kaahumanu, whose promised lover was to be a chief of
renown, and whose husband was to be a king? She was an attractive
maiden of seventeen, and a few months after the death of Keaulumoku,
and while Kamehameha was engaged in peaceful pursuits at Halaula, her
father suddenly brought her to court. Fresh, sparkling and graceful,
and related to the royal lines of Maui and Hawaii, she attracted the
immediate attention of Kamehameha, and he disposed of the claims of
her many suitors at once by making her his wife.
There was little in the appearance of the great chief to please the
eye of a girl of seventeen. His features were rugged and irregular,
and he held in contempt the courtly graces which imparted a charm
to the intercourse with each other of the nobility of the time. He
was already the husband of two recognized wives; but Kaahumanu was
ambitious, and, with admiration but no affection for him, she consented
to become his wife.
Keeaumoku was now persistent in inspiring Kamehameha with the thought
of becoming the master of the group. He recited to him the prophetic
chants of Keaulumoku, and brought to him the favoring auguries of
the kaulas.
An unsuccessful attempt to recover the district of Hana in 1786
was followed in 1790 by another invasion of Maui, when Kamehameha
completely subjugated the island, and then turned his attention to
Keoua, the independent chief of Kau, who had slain the chief of Hilo
and assumed the sovereignty of the southern districts of Hawaii.
The war with Keoua continued for more than a year, and every effort of
Kamehameha to crush this last of his rivals on Hawaii was successfully
resisted. For nine years Keoua had maintained himself against the
power of Kamehameha, and still remained master of Kau and the most
of Puna. Treachery was finally resorted to, and Keoua fell.
The old temple of Puukohola had been partially rebuilt, and a noted
seer had predicted that its completion would give to Kamehameha the
undisputed sovereignty of Hawaii. The temple was hastily finished,
and Keoua was invited to a conference with his opponent at Kawaihae,
with the view, he was led to believe, of peacefully settling their
differences. Nearing the shore of the place of meeting, where he saw
and exchanged greetings with Kamehameha, he was about to land when
Keeaumoku met him in a canoe and treacherously assassinated him,
and his body was taken to the newly-completed temple and sacrificed
to the war-god of his betrayer.
Keoua was a brave, noble, and magnanimous chief, and the apologists
of Kamehameha have not succeeded in relieving him from the odium
of Keeaumoku's cowardly act. He was the half-brother of Kiwalao,
and his death left Kamehameha the master of Hawaii.
Truly, as predicted by the seer, had Keeaumoku become the slayer
of princes and the maker of kings. But his work was not yet
completed. Kamehameha was the sovereign of Hawaii, but the conquest of
the group was still before him. Every circumstance, however, conspired
in his favor. Kahekili, the warlike king of Maui and conqueror of
Oahu, died in 1794, and a rupture had occurred between his successor
and Kaeo, the moi of Kauai.
Everything being in readiness, early in 1795 Kamehameha invaded Oahu
with a mighty army, defeated and subsequently captured and sacrificed
to his war-god King Kalanikupule, and shortly after received the
submission of the moi of Kauai--thus becoming the acknowledged master
of, and for the first time in their history consolidating under one
government, the several islands of the Hawaiian group.
The prophecies of Keaulumoku have all been fulfilled. Keeaumoku, the
slayer of princes and maker of kings, died peacefully as governor of
the windward islands in 1804. Kaahumanu became the wife of a king,
and died as chief counsellor of the islands in 1832. The temples
of the Hawaiian gods were destroyed immediately after the death of
Kamehameha, in 1819, and but a tenth of the number of natives found
on the islands at the close of the last century are now left to sing
of the achievements of their ancestors, who first made their home
in the group when the Roman Empire was falling to pieces under the
assaults of Northern barbarism.
THE CANNIBALS OF HALEMANU.
CHARACTERS.
Kalo Aikanaka, or Kokoa, a cannibal chief.
Kaaokeewe, or Lotu, a lieutenant of Kokoa.
Palua, daughter of Kokoa.
Kaholekua, wife of Lotu.
Napopo, brother of Kaholekua.
THE CANNIBALS OF HALEMANU.
A POPULAR LEGEND OF THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY.
I.
Although barbarous to the extent to which a brave, warm-hearted and
hospitable people were capable of becoming, every social, political
and religious circumstance preserved by tradition tends to show that at
no period of their history did the Polynesians proper--or the Hawaiian
branch of the race, at least--practise cannibalism. In their migrations
from the southern coasts of Asia to their final homes in the Pacific,
stopping, as they did, at various groups of islands in their voluntary
or compulsory journeyings, the Polynesians must have been brought in
contact with cannibal tribes; but no example ever persuaded them into
the habit of eating human flesh, or of regarding the appetite for it
with a feeling other than that of aversion and disgust. In offering a
human sacrifice it was customary for the officiating priest to remove
the left eye of the victim after the lifeless body had been deposited
upon the altar, and present it to the chief, who made a semblance of
eating it. Even as learned and conscientious an inquirer as Judge
Fornander has suggested that this custom was possibly the relic of
a cannibal propensity existing among the Polynesian people far back
in the past. The assumption is quite as reasonable that the rite was
either a simple exhibition of bravado, or the expression of a desire
on the part of the chief to thereby more strictly identify himself
with the offering in the eyes of the gods.
Several traditions have come down the centuries referring to the
existence of cannibal tribes or bands at one time or another in
the Hawaiian archipelago, particularly on the islands of Oahu and
Kauai, and harrowing stories of their exploits are a part of the
folk-lore of the group. But in every instance the man-eaters are
spoken of as foreigners, who came from a land unknown, maintained
local footholds for brief seasons in mountain fastnesses, and in
the end were either exterminated or driven from the islands by
the people for their barbarous practices. It is difficult to fix,
even approximately, the period of the earlier of these occurrences,
as they are mentioned in connection with ruling chiefs whose names do
not appear in the chronological meles surviving the destruction of the
ancient priesthood. Instead of being foreigners, it is not improbable
that the cannibals referred to in some of the traditions were the
remnants of a race of savages found on one or more of the islands of
the group when the first of the Polynesians landed there. This, it
may be presumed, was somewhere near the middle of the fifth century
of the Christian era.
It has generally been assumed by native historians that the ancestors
of the Hawaiian people found the entire group uninhabited at the time
of their arrival there. The bird, the lizard and the mouse, with an
insect life confined to few varieties, were the sole occupants of
that ocean paradise, with its beautiful streams, its inviting hills,
its sandal forests, its cocoa and ohia groves, its flowering plains,
its smiling valleys of everlasting green. But the interval between the
fifth century and the eleventh--between the first and second periods
of Polynesian arrival--is a broad blank in the legendary annals of
Hawaii, and the absence of any record of the circumstance cannot be
satisfactorily accepted as evidence that, on arriving at the group
from the southern islands, the Polynesians of the fifth century did
not find it sparsely occupied by an inferior and less capable people,
whom they either affiliated with or destroyed. In some of the meles
vague references are made to such a people, and ruins of temples are
still pointed out as the work of the Menehunes--a half-mythical race
or tribe, either from whom the Hawaiians descended, or with whom they
were in some manner connected in the remote past.
To whatever period, however, many of these stories of cannibalism may
refer, circumstances tend to show that the legends connected with the
man-eaters of Halemanu are based upon events of comparatively recent
centuries. The natives, who still relate fragments of these legends to
those whom curiosity prompts to visit the cannibals' retreat near the
northern coast of Oahu, generally refer the adventures described to
the early part or middle of the eighteenth century, and a half-caste
of intelligence informed the writer that his grandfather had personal
knowledge of the cannibal band. Although the sharpness of the details
preserved indicates that their beginning could not have been very
many generations back, the occupation of Halemanu by Aikanaka and
his savage followers could have occurred scarcely later than the
latter part of the seventeenth century--probably during the reign of
Kualii or his immediate successor, somewhere between the years 1660
and 1695. At that time Oahu was governed by a number of practically
independent chiefs, whose nominal head was the governing alii-nui of
the line of Kakuhihewa, of whom Kualii was the great-grandson.
It will therefore be assumed that it was near the close of the
seventeenth century that Kalo Aikanaka, with two or three hundred
followers, including women and children, landed at Waialua, on the
northern coast of Oahu, and temporarily established himself on the
sea-shore not far from that place. Ten years before, more or less,
he had arrived with a considerable party at Kauai from one of the
southern islands--which one tradition does not mention. The strangers
came in double canoes, and, as they were in a starving condition, it
was thought that they had been blown thither by adverse winds while
journeying to some other islands. They were hospitably received and
cared for by the people of Kauai, and for their support were given
lands near the foot of the mountains back of Waimea. In complexion
they were somewhat darker than the Kauaians, but otherwise did not
differ greatly from them either in dress, manners, modes of living
or appearance. They knew how to weave mats, construct houses of
timber and thatch, make spears and knives, and hollow out canoes of
all dimensions. They were familiar with the cocoanut and its uses,
and required no instruction in the cultivation of kalo or taro. They
were expert fishermen, and handled their weapons with dexterity. Their
language, however, was entirely different from that of the Kauaians;
but they soon acquired a knowledge of the latter, and in a short time
could scarcely be distinguished from the natives of the island.
Although known as Kalo Aikanaka by the natives, the real name of
the chief of the strangers was Kokoa. The name of his principal
lieutenant or adviser, which is given as Kaaokeewe by tradition,
was Lotu, or Lotua. Kokoa was of chiefly proportions, and his
muscular limbs were tattooed with rude representations of birds,
sharks and other fishes. His features were rather of the Papuan
cast, but his hair was straight, and the expression of his face was
not unpleasant. The appearance of Lotu, on the contrary, was savage
and forbidding. His strength was prodigious, and he made but little
disguise of his lawless instincts. The wife of Kokoa had died during
the passage to Kauai, leaving with him a daughter of marriageable
age named Palua. Tradition says she was very beautiful, and wore
necklaces and anklets of pearls. Her eyes were bright, her teeth were
white, and the ends of her braided hair touched her brown ankles as
she walked. Lotu was married, but without children. He did not like
them, and more than one, it is said, had been taken from the breast
of Kaholekua and strangled.
The strangers brought with them two or three gods, and made others
after their arrival. They knew nothing of the gods of the Kauaians,
and preferred to worship their own. To this the natives did not object;
but in the course of time they discovered that their tabu customs,
even the most sacred, were not observed by the strangers. Their
women were permitted to eat cocoanuts, bananas, and all kinds of
flesh and fish, including the varieties of which native females were
not allowed to partake. Fearing the wrath of the gods, the chief of
the district visited Kokoa and requested him to put a stop to these
pernicious practices among his people. He promised to do so, and for
a time they ceased; but the offenders soon fell back into their old
habit of indiscriminate eating, and the chief again visited Kokoa,
prepared to put his previous request into the form of an order. The
order was given, but not with the emphasis designed by the chief in
making the visit, for he then met Palua for the first time, and found
it difficult to speak harshly to the father of such a daughter. In
fact, before he left the chief thought it well to leave the matter
open for further explanation, and the next day returned to make it,
and to ask Kokoa, as well, to give him the beautiful Palua for a
wife. Father and daughter both consented, and within a few days
Palua accompanied the chief home as his wife. There, at least, it
was expected that Palua would respect the tabus she had violated
before her coming, and the chief appointed a woman to instruct her
thoroughly in the regulations applicable to her changed condition. She
promised everything, but secretly complied with no requirement. The
chief implored her to obey the mandates of the gods, and sought to
screen her acts from the eyes of others; but her misdemeanors became
so flagrant that they at last came to the knowledge of the high-priest,
and her life was demanded. Her husband would have returned Palua to her
father, but the priest declared that her offences had been so wanton
and persistent that the gods would be satisfied with nothing short
of her death, and she was therefore strangled and thrown into the sea.
Learning of the death of his daughter, Kokoa in his rage slew a near
kinsman of the chief and made a feast of his body, to the great delight
of his followers. They were cannibals, but the fact was not known to
their neighbors, as they had thus far restrained their appetites for
human flesh, and avoided all mention to others of their propensity
for such food. Their relish for it, however, was revived by the feast
provided by the wrath of Kokoa, and they were not sorry to leave the
lands they had been for some time cultivating back of Waimea, and
find a home in the neighboring mountains, where they could indulge
their savage tastes without restraint.
Locating in a secluded valley in the mountains of Haupu, Kokoa and
his people remained there for several years. They cultivated taro and
other vegetables, and for their meat depended upon such natives as
they were able to capture in out-of-the-way places and drag to their
ovens. Suspected of cannibalism, they were finally detected in the
act of roasting a victim. Great indignation and excitement followed
this discovery, and the chief of the district called for warriors to
assist him in exterminating the man-eaters. But Kokoa did not wait
for a hostile visit. His spies informed him of what was occurring
in the valleys below, and he hastily dropped down to the opposite
coast, seized a number of canoes at night, and with his followers
immediately set sail for Oahu. The party first landed at Kawailoa;
but a Kauaian on a visit to that place recognized one of their canoes
as the property of his brother, and was about to appeal to the local
chief, when they suddenly re-embarked and coasted around the island to
Waialua, where they found a convenient landing and concluded to remain.
II.
We now come to the final exploits of Kokoa and his clan in Oahu. It is
probable that they did not remain long in the immediate neighborhood
of Waialua, where the people were numerous and unoccupied lands were
scarce. Sending their scouts into the mountains in search of a safe
and uninhabited retreat, one of exceptional advantages was found in
the range east of Waialua, some eight or ten miles from the coast,
and thither they removed. The spot selected has since been known as
Halemanu. Before that time it was probably without any particular
name. It is a crescent-shaped plateau of two or three hundred acres,
completely surrounded by deep and almost precipitous ravines, with the
exception of a narrow isthmus, scarcely wide enough for a carriage-way,
connecting it with a broad area of timberless table-land stretching
downward toward the sea.
Nature could scarcely have devised a place better fitted for defence,
and Kokoa resolved to permanently locate there. Near the middle of
the plateau he erected a temple, with stone walls two hundred feet by
sixty, and twenty feet in height. This structure was also designed
as a citadel, to be used in emergencies. About fifty paces from the
temple was the hale of the chief--a stone building of the dimensions
of perhaps fifty feet by forty. It was divided into three rooms by
wicker partitions, and roofed with stout poles and thatch. Between this
building and the temple was a large excavated oven, with a capacity for
roasting four or five human bodies at the same time, and a few paces
to the westward was the great carving-platter of Kokoa. This was a
slightly basin-shaped stone rising a foot or more above the surface,
and having a superfice of perhaps six by four feet. A little hewing
here and there transformed it into a convenient carving-table, from
which hundreds of human bodies were apportioned to his followers by
Kokoa, who reserved for himself the hearts and livers, as delicacies to
which his rank entitled him. The lines of the buildings described may
still be traced among the tall grass, and the oily-appearing surface
of the carving-table, known as "Kalo's ipukai" bears testimony to this
day to the use made of it by the cannibals of Halemanu. The platter
is now almost level with the surface of the ground, and its rim has
been chipped down by relic-hunters, but time and the spoliations of
the curious have not materially changed its shape.
Having provided the plateau with these conveniences and the huts
necessary to accommodate his people, Kokoa next put the place in
a condition for defence by cutting the tops of the exposed slopes
leading to it into perpendicular declivities, and erecting a strong
building covering the width and almost entire length of the narrow
back-bone connecting it with the plain below. There was then no means
of reaching the plateau except by a path zigzagging down the upper
side to the timbered gulches beyond, or by the trail passing directly
through the building occupying the apex of the isthmus.
Of this entrance Lotu, the savage lieutenant of Kokoa, was made the
custodian. And there he sat in all weather, watching for passers,
the most of whom, if acceptable, he found a pretext for slaying and
sending to the great oven of his companions. His almost sleepless
watchfulness was due less to a disposition to serve others than to
his merciless instincts, which found gratification in blood-letting
and torture. Tradition says there was a hideous humor in the manner
in which he dealt with many of his victims. In allowing them to pass
he inquired the objects of their visits either to the plateau or the
gulches beyond. They informed him, perhaps, that they were in quest
of hala leaves, of poles for huts, of wood for surf-boards, of small
trees for spears, or of flints for cutting implements, as the case may
have been. When they returned he examined their burdens closely, and
if aught was found beyond the thing of which they were specifically
in search--even though so trifling an object as a walking-staff, or
a twig or flower gathered by the way--he denounced them as thieves
and liars, and slew them on the spot.
In this manner many hundreds of people were slain and eaten; but as
no one ever returned to tell the story of what was transpiring at
Halemanu, the cannibals remained for some time undisturbed. But if
their real character was not known, their isolation and strange conduct
gradually gained for them the reputation of being an evil-minded and
dangerous community, and visitors became so scarce at length that Lotu
found it necessary to drop down into the valleys occasionally in search
of victims. Nor were these expeditions, which demanded great caution,
always successful; and when they failed, Lotu sometimes secretly
killed and sent to the oven one of his own people, with faces mutilated
beyond recognition. Among these were all of his own relatives and two
of the three brothers of his wife. To escape the fate of the others,
the surviving brother, whose name was Napopo, fled to Kauai.
In physical strength Napopo was scarcely less formidable than Lotu;
but he was young in years, and lacked both skill and confidence in
his powers. To supply these deficiencies, and prepare himself for
a successful encounter with Lotu, which he resolved to undertake
in revenge for the death of his brothers, he sought the most expert
wrestlers and boxers on Kauai, and learned from them the secrets of
their prowess. He trained himself in running, swimming, leaping,
climbing, and lifting and casting great rocks, until his muscles
became like hard wood, and his equal in strength and agility could with
difficulty be found on all the island. And he skilled himself, also,
in the use of arms. He learned to catch and parry flying spears, and
hurl them with incredible force and precision. From the sling he could
throw a stone larger than a cocoanut, and the battle-axe he readily
wielded with one hand few men were able to swing with two. Having
thus accomplished himself, and still distrustful of his powers,
he made the offer of a canoe nine paces in length to any one who in
a trial should prove to be his master either in feats of strength
or the handling of warlike weapons. Many contested for the prize,
but Napopo found a superior in no one.
During the contests a strong man, with large jaws and a thick neck,
came forward and challenged Napopo to compete with him in lifting heavy
burdens with the teeth. The bystanders were amused at the proposal,
and Napopo was compelled by their remarks and laughter to accept it,
although he regarded it as frivolous. Fastening around his middle a
girdle of cords, he cast himself on the ground and said to the man:
"Now with your teeth lift me to the level of your breast." Stooping
and seizing the girdle in his teeth, the man with a great effort
lifted Napopo to the height demanded. The other was then girded in
the same manner. He seemed to be confident of victory, and said to
Napopo, as he threw himself at his feet: "You will do well if you
raise me to the level of your knees." Napopo made no reply, but bent
and gathered the girdle well between his teeth, and raised the body
to the height of his loins. "Higher!" exclaimed the man, thinking
the strength of his antagonist was even then taxed to its utmost;
"my body is scarcely free from the ground!" He had scarcely uttered
these words before Napopo rose erect, and with a quick motion threw
him completely over his head. Bruised and half-stunned by the fall,
the man struggled to his feet, and, with a look of wonder at Napopo,
hurriedly left the place to escape the jeers of the shouting witnesses
of his defeat.
Now confident of his strength and satisfied with his skill,
Napopo returned to Oahu in the canoe which so many had failed to
win. Landing at Waialua, he by some means learned that his sister,
Kaholekua, the wife of Lotu, had been killed by her husband. Arming
himself with a spear and knife of sharks' teeth, Napopo proceeded to
Halemanu. Arriving at the house barring the entrance to the stronghold,
he was met at the door by Lotu. Their recognition was cold. The eyes
of Lotu gleamed with satisfaction. No longer intimidated, as in the
past, Napopo paid back the look with a bearing of defiance.
"Leave your spear and enter," said Lotu, curtly.
Napopo leaned his spear against the house and stepped within,
observing, as he did so, that Lotu in his movements kept within reach
of an axe and javelin lying near the door.
"Where is Kaholekua?" inquired Napopo.
"There," replied Lotu, sullenly, pointing toward a curtain of mats
stretched across a corner of the room.
Without a word Napopo stepped to the curtain and drew it aside. He
expected to find his sister dead, if at all, but she was still
living, although lying insensible from wounds which seemed to be
mortal. With a heart swelling with rage and anguish, he closed the
curtain and returned to the door. He could not trust himself to speak,
and therefore silently stepped without, in the hope that Lotu would
leave his weapons and follow him. To this end he stood for a few
minutes near the entrance, as if overwhelmed with grief, when Lotu
cautiously approached the door. Advancing a step farther, Napopo
suddenly turned and seized him before he could reach his weapons,
and a desperate bare-handed struggle followed. Both were giants,
and the conflict was ferocious and deadly. From one side to the
other of the narrow isthmus they battled, biting, tearing, pulling,
breaking, with no decided advantage to either; but the endurance of
Napopo was greater than that of his older antagonist, and in the end
he was able to inflict injury without receiving dangerous punishment
in return. Both of them were covered with blood, and their maros had
been rent away in the struggle, leaving them perfectly nude.
Although Napopo had in a measure overpowered his mighty adversary,
he found it difficult to kill him with his naked hands. He could tear
and disfigure his flesh, but was unable to strangle him or break
his spine. He therefore resolved to drag him to the verge of the
precipice, and hurl him over it into the rocky abyss below. Struggling
and fighting, the edge of the gulf was reached, when Lotu suddenly
fastened his arms around his antagonist, and with a howl of desperation
plunged over the brink. Dropping downward to destruction together,
Lotu's head was caught in the fork of a tree near the bottom of the
declivity and torn from the body, and Napopo, clasped in the embrace
of the lifeless but rigid trunk, fell dead and mangled among the
rocks of the ravine still farther down.
Recovering her consciousness during the battle, Kaholekua dragged
herself from the house just in time to witness the descent of the
desperate combatants over the precipice. Approaching the verge,
she uttered a feeble wail of anguish and plunged headlong down the
declivity, her mangled remains lodging within a few paces of those
of her husband and brother.
The conclusion of these tragical scenes was observed by a party from
the plateau above--one tradition says by Kokoa himself. However this
may be, the cannibal chief concluded that Halemanu was no longer
a desirable retreat, and a few days after crossed the mountains to
Waianae with his remaining followers, and soon thereafter set sail
with them for other lands. What became of the party is not known;
but with their departure ends the latest and most vivid of the several
legends of cannibalism in the Hawaiian archipelago.
KAIANA, THE LAST OF THE HAWAIIAN KNIGHTS.
CHARACTERS.
Kalaniopuu, king of Hawaii.
Kolale, wife of Kalaniopuu.
Kiwalao, son of Kalaniopuu, and his successor.
Liliha, wife of Kiwalao.
Keopuolani, daughter of Kiwalao.
Keoua, half-brother of Kiwalao.
Keawemauhili, uncle of Kiwalao.
Kamehameha I., successor of Kiwalao.
Keeaumoku,
Kameeiamoku and
Kamanawa, brothers and chiefs of Hawaii.
Kaahumanu, one of the wives of Kamehameha I.
Kahekili, king of Maui.
Kalanikupule, king of Oahu, son of Kahekili.
Kaeo, king of Kauai.
Kamakahelei, queen of Kauai.
Imakakaloa, chief of Puna.
Kalaimoku, a distinguished chief.
Kakuhaupio, a counsellor of Kamehameha I.
Kaiana, one of the captains of Kamehameha I.
Kepupuohi, wife of Kaiana.
Nahiolea, brother of Kaiana.
KAIANA, THE LAST OF THE HAWAIIAN KNIGHTS.
KAMEHAMEHA, KAAHUMANU, CAPTAIN COOK, AND THE FINAL CONQUEST.
I.
Among the distinguished Hawaiian chiefs connected with the final
conquest and consolidation of the group by Kamehameha the Great,
and standing in the gray dawn of the close of the eighteenth century,
when the islands were rediscovered by Captain Cook and tradition began
to give place to recorded history, was Kaiana-a-Ahaula. He was one
of Kamehameha's greatest captains, and the events of his life, which
closed with his death in the last battle of the conquest, embrace one
of the most interesting periods in Hawaiian history. After giving to
the conqueror his best energies for years, and faithfully assisting in
cementing the foundations of his greatness, he turned against him on
the very eve of final triumph, and perished in attempting to destroy
by a single blow the power he had helped to create.
What was it that caused Kaiana to turn his spear in hopeless
desperation against his victorious chief, to whom the gods and their
prophets had promised everything? Had not Pele destroyed his enemies
with fire and smoke? and had not Keaulumoku, the inspired bard of
Naohaku, chanted the fadeless glory of his triumphs? The war-god of
Liloa--the fateful Kaili--led the van of his conquering columns, and
Kalaipahoa, the poison god of Molokai, was among the deities of his
household. The high-priest Hewahewa, who traced his sacerdotal line
back to Paao, was his mediator in the temples, and every voice from
the anu was a note of encouragement and promise of victory. The great
chiefs of Hawaii were his friends, and his war-canoes cruised almost
unopposed throughout the eight Hawaiian seas. Musket and cannon had
been added to his weapons of war, and white men had enlisted to some
extent in his service. But, with all these advantages and assurances
of success, Kaiana suddenly threw defiance in his face and became
his open enemy.
By some the defection of Kaiana has been attributed to cold-blooded
and unprovoked treachery; by others to an assumption by Kaiana that
by blood Kamehameha was not entitled to the sovereignty of the group,
and that his defeat in Oahu would dispose of his pretensions in that
direction, and possibly open to himself a way to supreme power; and
by still others to the jealousies of Kamehameha, which rendered the
life of Kaiana no longer safe in his service. By these it is claimed
that Kamehameha was jealous, not only of the growing military fame
of Kaiana, but of a suspected regard of his favorite wife, Kaahumanu,
for the handsome and distinguished chief. And this, indeed, as shown by
native and other testimony, seems to have been the leading if not sole
cause of the estrangement between Kamehameha and his great captain.
In the council of chiefs on the island of Molokai, to which Kaiana
was not invited, and which he had reason to believe had decreed his
death, ambition was the crime which Kamehameha imputed to him, when
in truth the real and unmentioned offence was his suspected intimacy
with Kaahumanu. And so it will appear that women's eyes in Hawaii,
as elsewhere, have in all ages swayed the hearts and nerved the arms
of the greatest, and not unfrequently changed the current of vital
political events.
But, before bringing Kaiana full into the light, it is proper that some
reference should be made to the great chief under whose banners he so
stubbornly fought, and against whose authority he finally rebelled;
and in doing so it will be interesting, perhaps, to glance briefly
at certain prominent events connected with the rediscovery of the
islands by Captain Cook, the assumption of the sovereign authority
of Hawaii by Kamehameha, and the final consolidation of the several
islands of the group under one central government.
Kamehameha was a man of tremendous physical and intellectual
strength. In any land and in any age he would have been a leader. The
impress of his mind remains with his crude and vigorous laws, and
wherever he stepped is seen an imperishable track. He was so strong of
limb that ordinary men were but children in his grasp, and in council
the wisest yielded to his judgment. He seems to have been born a
man and to have had no boyhood. He was always sedate and thoughtful,
and from his earliest years cared for no sport or pastime that was
not manly. He had a harsh and rugged face, less given to smiles than
frowns, but strongly marked with lines indicative of self-reliance
and changeless purpose. He was barbarous, unforgiving and merciless to
his enemies, but just, sagacious and considerate in dealing with his
subjects. He was more feared and admired than loved and respected;
but his strength of arm and force of character well fitted him for
the supreme chieftaincy of the group, and he accomplished what no
one else could have done in his day.
Kamehameha was born at Kohala, Hawaii, in November, 1740. His father
was Keoua, half-brother of Kalaniopuu, and nephew of Alapainui,
who was at that time king of Hawaii. His mother was Kekuiapoiwa,
a granddaughter of Kalanikauleleiaiwi, who was a sister of Keawe,
the previous moi of the island. This sister was the mother of
Alapainui by a chief of the Mahi family of Kohala. With another
husband--Lonoikahaupu, a tabu chief of Kauai--she became the mother of
Keawepoepoe, who was the father of Keeaumoku, Kameeiamoku and Kamanawa,
who, with Keawe-a-Heulu, were the principal chiefs and supporters of
Kamehameha in his conquest of the group. By a Kauai wife Lonoikahaupu
became the grandfather of Kaumualii, the last independent sovereign of
Kauai, and grandfather of Kapiolani, the present queen of the islands.
Keawe, the previous king of Hawaii, had four recognized wives, and
two others whose names have not been preserved by tradition. One of
them was the mother of Ahaula, who was the father of Kaiana. On the
death of Keawe his two elder sons lost their lives in a struggle for
the mastery, and Alapainui, the son of the sister of Keawe, and who
through his father was chief of Kohala, assumed the moiship, and, after
a few battles, peacefully maintained his claim to it. Having secured
the sovereignty of the island, he invited to court the elder sons of
his two deceased half-brothers, and there maintained them until one of
them died and the other rose in rebellion against him. These two sons
were Kalaniopuu, who was king of the island at the time of the arrival
of Captain Cook in 1778, and Keoua, the father of Kamehameha. The
mother of these wards of Alapainui was Kamakaimoku, a chiefess of
Oahu. Their fathers having been brothers, and Kamakaimoku being the
mother of both, they bore to each other the mixed relationship of
half-brother and cousin. She also became the wife of Alapainui, and
by him the mother of Manoua, who was the grandmother of Kekuaokalani,
the last distinguished champion of idolatry in 1819.
To this record of the tangled relationships of the chiefly families of
the group at that period may be added the intimations of tradition that
Peleioholani, a chief of Kauai, was the actual father of Kalaniopuu,
and that Kahekili, the moi of Maui, was the real father of Kamehameha;
and in proof of the latter the acts and admissions of Kahekili are
cited. But these scandals may very properly be dismissed as the
offspring of the hatred and jealousies of later years.
Kamehameha was born at Kohala while Alapainui was there with his court,
superintending the collection of a mighty fleet for the invasion of
Maui. It was a stormy night, and the first sounds that greeted the
ears of the infant chief were the howling of the winds and the din of
warlike preparations. On the night of its birth the child was stolen
from its mother's side and carried away by Naeole, the chief of Halawa,
and for some days nothing was heard of it. The father searched and
the mother wailed, but the infant could not be found. It was finally
discovered, however, and Naeole, instead of being punished for the
theft, was allowed to keep possession of the child until it was five
years old, when it was taken to the court of Alapainui and there reared
as became a prince. Tradition assigns no reason for the theft of the
child, or for the retention of it for five years by the kidnapper;
but, whatever may have been the reason, it is manifest that Naeole's
offence was considered neither flagrant nor unusual.
When Kamehameha reached the age of twelve or fourteen years, his
father, Keoua, suddenly died, and a suspicion became current that he
had been either poisoned or prayed to death through the instrumentality
of Alapainui. This suspicion seems to have been shared by Kalaniopuu,
and believing, or assuming to believe, that his own life was in danger,
he withdrew from the court and attempted to take with him Kamehameha;
but in this he was frustrated. A fight occurred at Piopio while the
body of Keoua was lying there in state, and Kalaniopuu was driven
to his war-canoe, in which he escaped. This act placed him in open
revolt against his royal uncle, and he prepared to sustain it. Forces
were hastily gathered on both sides, and after a few battles, in which
Kalaniopuu was generally unsuccessful, he retired to the district of
Kau, and declared himself the independent sovereign of the southern
portion of the island. For some reason Alapainui did not disturb his
rebellious nephew farther, but spent the two remaining years of his
life in Hilo and Waipio, the residence of many of the ancient mois.
When Alapainui died he was succeeded by his son
Keaweopala. Dissatisfied with his allotment of lands, Keeaumoku, a
nephew of the dead king, rebelled against the new moi, but was defeated
and compelled to seek safety with Kalaniopuu, whom he found already in
the field, intent upon contesting the sovereignty of the island with
Keaweopala. The two joined forces, and met and defeated the royal army
in Kona. Keaweopala was slain in battle, and Kalaniopuu was declared
moi of Hawaii. Young Kamehameha was taken to the court of his royal
uncle, and educated in all the princely accomplishments of the period.
Although it is probable that Kamehameha took part in some of the
earlier wars of Kalaniopuu, he makes his first prominent appearance
in tradition as a military leader in about 1775, in a battle on Maui,
between Kalaniopuu and Kahekili, the moi of that island, or of the
greater portion of it. Kalaniopuu was defeated, but the conduct
of Kamehameha was notably cool and sagacious. It is reasonable to
believe that he also took part in the disastrous campaign of the
following year, when the army of Kalaniopuu was almost annihilated
on the lowlands near Wailuku.
This battle was one of the most sanguinary spoken of in Hawaiian
tradition. Kalaniopuu invaded the island with six heavy divisions of
warriors of all arms. The members of the royal family were formed
into a life-guard called Keawe, while the nobles entitled to the
privilege of eating at the same table with the king composed two
distinct brigades, known as Alapa and Piipii. A landing was effected
on the southern side of the island. The headquarters of Kahekili were
at Wailuku, between which and the coast stretched a slightly elevated
sandy plain.
The Alapa took the advance, and, without waiting for support, pushed
boldly on toward Wailuku. This brigade was the flower of the Hawaiian
army. It was composed of eight hundred men, each one of whom was of
noble blood. They were all large men of nearly equal stature, and
their spears were of equal length. Marching shoulder to shoulder, with
feather capes and plumed helmets, tradition describes their advance
as a spectacle such as had never before been witnessed. But Kahekili
was not appalled at the sight. He permitted them to approach within
a mile or more of Wailuku, when he suddenly precipitated upon them a
force of four or five thousand spears. The battle was a slaughter. The
Alapa refused to yield or retreat, and of the eight hundred helmeted
chiefs but two escaped to tell the tale of the slaughter of their
comrades. But a single prisoner was taken, and he died of his wounds
before he could be despatched in form and offered in sacrifice. It
was historic ground. On the sandy plain many battles had before been
fought, and near and above it was the sacred burial-place of Iao,
where had been deposited the bones of many of the ancestors of the
battling chiefs.
The next day a general battle was fought on the same ground, and
Kalaniopuu was defeated. But he was not crushed. The loss of life
had been great on both sides, and a temporary peace was established
on the condition that the Hawaiian army should at once be withdrawn
from Maui. The suspension of hostilities was secured partly through
the instrumentality of the wife of Kalaniopuu, Kalola, who was the
full sister of Kahekili.
But this peace was of short duration. Scarcely a year elapsed before
Kalaniopuu again invaded Maui, where he continued to hold a fortified
possession in Hana, and began to ravage its coasts. Without decisive
results, the campaign extended into months, Kalaniopuu maintaining
a foothold in Hamakualoa, but being unable to extend his conquests
greatly beyond it.
II.
It was during the indecisive campaign just referred to that Captain
Cook--having a few months before touched at Kauai and Niihau--returned
to the Hawaiian group from the Arctic Ocean, and anchored off the coast
of Maui, where he freely communicated with the wondering natives,
and exchanged courtesies with Kalaniopuu and his principal chiefs,
including Kamehameha.
It is now admitted that the Hawaiian group was first discovered by
Juan Gaetano, a Spanish navigator, in 1555, while on a voyage from
the western coast of Mexico to the Moluccas, or Spice Islands; but
the secret was kept from the world, and the first European to touch
at the islands, to communicate with the natives and make his discovery
known, was Captain Cook.
In the hydrographic bureau of the naval department of the Spanish
government exists an old manuscript chart pretty correctly locating
the group and crediting Gaetano with the discovery. He named the
islands Islas de Mesa, or Table Islands. It is probable that he
made a landing on one of the islands with a few of his crew, since
tradition refers to the sudden appearance of white men at about that
period; but if he did land he left no record of the circumstance,
and it is not shown that he ever returned to the group, or that any
of his countrymen profited by the discovery. It has been claimed that
Captain Cook was directed to the islands by an old Spanish chart of
which he had in some manner become possessed; but his own evidence,
as well as that of his officers, favors the assumption that the
rediscovery of the islands by him was accidental.
Early in December, 1777, Captain Cook, with the British national ships
Resolution and Discovery, left the Society group for the northwest
coast of America. On inquiry the natives of Bolabola Island informed
him that they knew of no lands north or northwest of them, and it is
not probable that he expected to meet with any; but after a voyage
of sixteen days he discovered Christmas Island, and on the 18th
of January, 1778, sighted Oahu, of the Hawaiian group, and to the
northward of it Kauai. He first landed at the latter island, where he
was well received by the natives. He was believed to be their god Lono,
whose return to the group had been promised, and divine honors were
accorded him. His ships were provided with everything they required,
and the fairest women of the island, including the daughter of the
queen, were sent to greet and welcome him.
He next visited Niihau, where he was received in the same hospitable
manner, and on the 2d of February, without visiting the other islands
of the group, proceeded on his voyage toward Behring's Strait in
search of a northwest passage to the Atlantic. The approach of winter
putting an end to further explorations in the north, he returned to
the islands, and on the 26th of November, 1778, sighted Maui, and
the next day his ships were visited by hundreds of natives. The news
of his previous visit to Kauai and Niihau had spread throughout the
group, and he was treated with the greatest friendship and hospitality.
Three days later, when off the northwest coast of Maui, he was
ceremoniously visited by Kalaniopuu, and six or eight chiefs,
Kamehameha among them, accompanied him almost to Hawaii, when they
left in their canoes, which had been taken in tow, and returned to
Maui, to the great relief of their friends.
Beating around the coasts of Hawaii, it was not until the 17th of
January, 1779, that the vessels came to anchor in Kealakeakua Bay,
on the western side of the island. They were at once crowded with
natives, and the high-priest came aboard, recognized Cook as the god
Lono, and threw over his shoulders the sacred mantle of red. In the
afternoon Cook went ashore, and in a neighboring temple permitted
himself to be publicly and ceremoniously worshipped. Meantime the
vessels were abundantly and gratuitously supplied with pigs, poultry,
fruits and vegetables, and the officers and crews were treated with
the greatest kindness.
On the 24th of January Kalaniopuu returned from Maui, and on the 26th
paid the ships a formal visit. The visit was returned, and Cook,
as before, was received on shore with divine honors, against which
he offered no protest. He was placed among the gods in the temple,
and sacrifices were offered to him as one of the Hawaiian Trinity.
How were the devotion and kindness of the simple natives requited? By
eating out the substance of the people, violating the tabus of
the priests and trampling upon the edicts of the king. Cook became
exacting, dictatorial and greedy, and from his conduct it almost
seemed that he began to consider himself in reality the god for whom
he was mistaken by the superstitious natives.
Under the circumstances, his departure for the leeward islands of the
group, on the 4th of February, was regarded with satisfaction by the
natives; but the vessels encountered a storm, and on the 11th returned
to Kealakeakua Bay for repairs. Their reception was much less jubilant
than before, and not a canoe went off to greet their return. However,
Kalaniopuu visited the ships the next day, and permitted the natives
to resume intercourse with them.
But it was plain that the feelings of the people had undergone a
change. They found that the white strangers had appetites like
themselves, and were just as subject to bodily ills. They also
discovered that they were selfish, unjust and overbearing, and were not
entitled to the consideration with which they had been treated. Petty
bickerings began to occur, and finally a young chief named Palea was
knocked down with a paddle by an English sailor while attempting to
save his canoe from wanton damage.
In retaliation Palea stole a boat from one of the ships. Cook
demanded its restoration, but, as it had been hastily broken up
for its iron nails and fastenings, Kalaniopuu could not, of course,
return it. Thereupon Cook ordered a blockade of the harbor, resulting
in the killing of a prominent chief who attempted to enter it, and
then landed with an armed boat's crew with the view of seizing and
holding the king as security for the return of the missing boat.
Kalaniopuu was in the act of peacefully accompanying Cook to one
of his vessels in the harbor, and had reached a point not far from
the landing, when the brother of the chief who had been killed
in attempting to enter the harbor angrily approached to demand an
explanation. By this time a large crowd of natives had surrounded the
king, and believing, no doubt, that the intentions of the chief were
hostile, Cook drew a pistol and fired upon him, and the next moment
shot and killed a native who had assaulted him with a stone. He also
struck with his sword a chief named Kanaina. The latter seized and
held him.
Believing Cook to be a god, it was not thought that he could be
killed. Struggling to free himself, he must have received a wound
from some quarter, for he sank to the earth with a groan. The groan
was fatal to him. "He is not a god! he groans!" exclaimed the people,
and without hesitation they slew him at once.
Fire was immediately opened upon the natives from the boat, and shortly
after with cannon from the vessels in the harbor. Consternation
seized the people huddled on the beach. Many were killed, and the
most of the remainder fled to the hills, taking with them the body of
Cook. A party of carpenters and sail-makers, at work some distance
away, became involved in the struggle, but the most of them escaped
to the ships through the kind offices of friendly chiefs.
The bones of the unfortunate captain were stripped of their
flesh, as was then the custom, and divided among a few prominent
chiefs. Kamehameha, it is said, received the hair. A few days after,
in response to the request of Captain King, such of the bones as
could be recovered were brought on board the Resolution, by order
of Kalaniopuu, and committed to the deep with military honors. The
ships then left Kealakeakua Bay, and after touching at Oahu, Kauai
and Niihau, finally sailed northward on the 15th of March, leaving
behind them a train of evils which a full century of time has failed
to eradicate.
III.
Abandoning his campaign in Maui, Kalaniopuu, who was nearly eighty
years of age and quite feeble, removed his court to Kohala after the
death of Captain Cook, and subsequently to Waipio, where he remained
for some months. Desiring to settle the succession while he lived, he
called his high chiefs together and proclaimed his son Kiwalao as his
heir and successor in the government and the supervision of the tabus,
and Kamehameha as the custodian of his war-god Kaili, to which duty
the heiau of Moaula, in Waipio, was formally dedicated after extensive
repairs. A temple was also consecrated to the same god in Hilo.
Shortly after Imakakaloa, who had raised the standard of revolt in
Puna, was captured after a stubborn war and condemned to be sacrificed
at the temple of Pakini. In the absence of Kalaniopuu the performance
of the ceremonies devolved upon Kiwalao. First in order came the
offerings of pigs and fruits, to be followed by the body of the
rebel chief; but while Kiwalao was making the first of the offerings,
Kamehameha seized the body of the chief, offered it in sacrifice and
then dismissed the assembly.
As the sacrifice was to the war-god Kaili, of which he was the
custodian, Kamehameha doubtless claimed and boldly assumed the right to
conduct the ceremonies himself. But the daring act of insubordination
created an intense excitement at the royal court, many regarding it
as little less than rebellion, and Kalaniopuu advised Kamehameha to
retire to Kohala for a season, as he could not answer for his safety
in Waipio. He accepted the advice of his uncle, and, taking with
him his wife Kalola, his brother Kalaimamahu and the war-god Kaili,
removed to his patrimonial estates at Halawa, in Kohala, where he
remained until the death of Kalaniopuu, which shortly occurred.
Early in 1782 Kalaniopuu died, and his body was brought to Honaunau
for interment in the sacred burial-place of Hale-a-Keawe. Fearful
that the division of lands which usually followed the installation of
a new moi would not be satisfactory, several prominent chiefs, among
them Kamehameha, repaired to Honaunau to assist in the interment of
the dead king and listen to the proclamation of Kiwalao. After the
body had been deposited Kiwalao ascended a platform and informed
the assembled chiefs that, by the will of his royal father, the
sovereignty of Hawaii had been bequeathed to him, and the custody
of the war-god Kaili to Kamehameha. No other chief was mentioned as
having been provided for, and profound dissatisfaction followed.
At an awa party in the evening Kiwalao declined to drink of the
awa prepared by Kamehameha, as custom rendered it proper that he
should do. By Kekuhaupio, the aged counsellor of Kamehameha, the
bowl was struck from the hand of another to whom it had been passed
untasted by Kiwalao, and Kamehameha and his friend abruptly left
the house. An open rupture followed the division of lands soon after
made, and Kamehameha was forced to take up arms against Kiwalao by the
disaffected chiefs. He was made their leader, and around him rallied
the chiefs of Kona, Kohala and Hamakua, while Kiwalao was generally
sustained by the chiefs of Hilo, Puna and Kau.
After hasty preparations on both sides a battle was fought at Hauiki,
in which Kiwalao was slain. The royal army was routed, and Keoua, the
half-brother of Kiwalao, fled to Kau, where he declared himself king
of Hawaii, while Keawemauhili, the uncle of the dead king, who was
allowed to escape owing to his extremely high rank, retired to Hilo
and set up an independent government of his own. After the death of
Kiwalao, Keopuolani, his infant daughter, whose mother had fled with
her to Kahekili, moi of Maui, was the only one whom Keawemauhili was
willing to recognize, and three distinct factions began to struggle
for the mastery of the island.
While a desultory warfare was being carried on by the three rival
chiefs of Hawaii, during which Kamehameha was steadily growing in
strength, a new element of military and naval power made its appearance
in the group, and became an important factor in the political changes
that speedily followed. In 1786 the first foreign vessels, after the
departure of the Resolution and Discovery, touched at the islands,
and during the year following American, English, French, Spanish and
Portuguese merchant-men in considerable numbers visited the group,
and the people began to supply themselves with knives, axes, cloths,
beads and other articles of foreign manufacture, and the chiefs with
swords, guns, powder and lead and other warlike materials. Payment
for these articles was made to some extent in pigs, fowls, fruits and
vegetables, but principally in sandal-wood, in which the mountainous
districts of the islands abounded, and which found a ready market
in China. Many deserting sailors entered the service of the chiefs
of Oahu and Hawaii, and to a less extent of the other islands, and
became the instructors of the natives in the use of fire-arms; and
Kamehameha was especially fortunate in securing the services of Isaac
Davis and John Young, who took an active part in the campaigns of the
final conquest. Young married into a native family of consequence,
and became the grandfather of the late queen-dowager Emma, widow of
Kamehameha IV.
In 1790 Kamehameha, during a temporary cessation of hostilities on
Hawaii, invaded Maui with a large force. To the expedition Keawemauhili
had been in some manner induced to contribute a battalion of
warriors. In retaliation for this showing of friendship for Kamehameha,
Keoua invaded Hilo, defeated and killed Keawemauhili, and assumed
the sovereignty of that district. Nor did he stop there. During the
absence of Kamehameha he overran the districts of Hamakua and Kohala,
and was in the act of possessing himself of the whole island when
Kamehameha abruptly left Maui, which he had completely subjugated,
and returned to Hawaii.
Kaiana had been left to guard the district of Kona during the absence
of Kamehameha, and that was the only division left unoccupied by
Keoua. Kamehameha landed with his forces at Kawaihae, and Keoua fell
back with his army to Paauhau. There and at Koapapa a two days' battle
was fought, when Keoua retreated to Hilo, and Kamehameha retired to
Waipio to recruit his losses.
Stopping for a few days to divide the lands of the district among
his chiefs, Keoua started on his return to Kau. His path led by the
crater of Kilauea. His army, marching in three divisions, encamped
on the mountains, the central division finding quarters not far from
the crater. Before morning an eruption occurred, and four hundred
warriors were suffocated. This was considered a special visitation of
the wrath of Pele, the goddess of the volcano, and she was thereafter
deemed to be the friend of Kamehameha.
For a year or more continuous efforts to crush the power of Keoua were
made by Kamehameha. Kaiana operated against him in Kau, and Keeaumoku
in Hilo, but he stubbornly and successfully resisted. Availing himself
of this condition of affairs, Kahekili, moi of Maui, assisted by Kaeo,
king of Kauai, invaded Hawaii, probably for the purpose of creating
a diversion in favor of Keoua, but the combined armies were driven
from the island by Kamehameha.
Keoua, however, remained unsubdued, and Kamehameha resolved at every
sacrifice to crush him, as a preliminary step toward the conquest
of the entire group, which at that time he began to meditate. Some
time before he had sent the grandmother of Kaahumanu to Kauai to
consult the prophets of that island, and word was brought back to
him from the renowned Kapoukahi that if he would rebuild the heiau of
Puukohola and dedicate it to his war-god, he would become the master
of Hawaii. Some work had been done on the temple, and Kamehameha
determined to complete it at once. He therefore ordered large relays
of people from the surrounding districts to repair to Kawaihae and
assist in the building of the heiau. Many thousands responded. With
the exception of Keliimaikai, a brother of Kamehameha, who was left
uncontaminated for the consecration, every chief took part in the
labor, and the temple was soon completed, with sacrifices embracing
a large number of human beings as the work progressed.
Thus was the temple of Puukohola completed, but, pending its formal
consecration, Keawe-a-Heulu and Kamanawa, two of the principal
counselors of Kamehameha, were despatched to Kau under a flag of truce,
to invite Keoua to visit Kamehameha, with the view of arranging terms
of peace. Keoua received the ambassadors kindly, and consented to
the conference. His actions show that he suspected the motives of
Kamehameha, but he resolutely accepted the hazard of placing himself
at the mercy of his enemies.
Proceeding in state in a double canoe, Keoua arrived at the landing
of Mailekini, in Kawaihae. Observing Kamehameha on the beach,
Keoua called to him, and was invited to land. Several canoes were
around him, and as he leaped ashore Keeaumoku, from one of them,
treacherously drove a spear through his body, killing him at once. An
attack was then made upon his attendants, and all but two of them
were slain. As this, and many other events noted in this chapter, are
briefly referred to in the legend of "The Prophecies of Keaulumoku,"
it will be sufficient to mention that the body of Keoua was taken to
the temple of Puukohola, and there sacrificed to Kaili with ample
pomp and ceremony. The possessions of the unfortunate chief passed
into the hands of Kamehameha, who at once became the acknowledged
sovereign of the entire island. This was in 1792.
In Kamehameha's previous campaign against Maui, from which he had been
recalled by the successes of Keoua at home, that island, as already
stated, had been completely subjugated. At the time of the invasion,
Maui, Oahu, Molokai and Lanai were all in the possession of Kahekili,
who had taken up his residence in Oahu, leaving his son Kalanikupule
in charge of Maui. In a single mighty battle on the plains between
East and West Maui, Kamehameha had destroyed the army of Kalanikupule,
who had escaped to Oahu and joined his father, while the most of the
chiefs of Maui had sought refuge on the other islands.
After this victory Kamehameha despatched a messenger to Kahekili,
informing him of his intention to invade Oahu, and the old king
returned to him this answer: "Tell Kamehameha to return to Hawaii,
and when the black kapa covers the body of Kahekili the whole group
shall be his." This answer seems to have been hardly honest, however,
for, soon after Kamehameha returned to Hawaii, Kahekili entered into
a combination with Kaeo, king of Kauai, and made war upon Kamehameha
in his own home, with the disastrous results to the confederates
already mentioned.
In 1794 Kahekili died, leaving Kalanikupule as his successor, and a
claimant to the sovereignty of Oahu, Maui, Molokai and Lanai. Kaeo, the
younger brother and ally of Kahekili, and who had become the king of
Kauai by marrying Queen Kamakahelei, and had shared in the government
of Maui after the withdrawal of the forces of Kamehameha, concluded to
return temporarily to Kauai after the death of Kahekili. Taking with
him a portion of his army, he first touched at Molokai to collect
tribute, and then landed on Oahu for further supplies. Although his
visit was friendly, he met with opposition from Kalanikupule, and a
battle followed, in which Kaeo was slain.
The Oahu king was assisted by the seamen of two English vessels
lying in the harbor of Honolulu, the Jackal and Prince Leboo. After
the victory a feast was given on board the vessels, to which the
king and a number of his chiefs were invited. Some of the boats of
the vessels, returning from the shore with their crews, grounded on
the reef. Perceiving this, Kalanikupule and his chiefs seized the
vessels, killing their captains and a number of others. Elated with
the possession of these vessels and their armaments, the king resolved
to invade Hawaii. Embarking his army in canoes, he took passage in
one of the vessels, on board of which had been stored the most of
his guns and war materials.
The crews of the vessels had been retained to manage them, and
Kalanikupule sailed out of the harbor in high glee. But he did not
proceed far. After reaching deep water the foreigners sent him and
his attendants back to Waikiki in a boat, and then sailed for Hawaii,
where they delivered Kalanikupule's war supplies to Kamehameha,
who was even then preparing for a descent upon Oahu and the final
conquest and consolidation of the group. This was in the latter part
of 1794. The amount of war material delivered to Kamehameha was not
large, but all of it proved of service to him.
IV.
With this somewhat extended reference to Kamehameha and the prominent
chiefs of his time, which brings the tracings of public events down
to the eve of the concluding struggle of the conquest, we will now
return to Kaiana, through whose relations with Kamehameha some curious
glimpses of the domestic life of the latter are brought to view. We
have thus far seen him as a warrior. We will now observe him as a
husband, whose peace was disturbed by jealousies, and whose heart,
stern in all things else, was not proof against the tender influences
of love.
At the close of his unsuccessful campaign against the chiefs of
Hilo and Kau, in 1785, Kamehameha took up his residence at Kauhola,
where he devoted himself for a time to more peaceful pursuits. To
stimulate his people to industry he gave his personal attention to
agriculture, and the piece of ground cultivated with his own hands is
still pointed out. Continuous wars had impoverished his possessions,
and he was anxious to restore to productiveness his neglected lands.
Up to this time Kamehameha had two recognized wives, Kalola and
Peleuli. This Kalola was not the widow of Kalaniopuu, although
bearing a similar name. She was a granddaughter of Keawe, king of
Hawaii. Peleuli was the daughter of Kamanawa, brother of Keeaumoku,
and one of his stanchest supporters.
For some months Kamehameha lived quietly at Kauhola. The inspired
song of Keaulumoku, who had died the year before, predicting that
he would become the sovereign of the group, still rang in his ears,
and in the midst of their labors his people were encouraged in the
practice of the manly games and pastimes which added to their strength,
skill and endurance in war. Sham fights on land and sea, and swimming,
diving, wrestling, running and leaping contests, were frequent; and
during the annual feast of Lono, beginning with the winter solstice
and continuing for five days, a tournament was given which brought
to Kauhola the leading chiefs of Hamakua, Kohala and Kona. Among them
was the famous Keeaumoku, who had charge of the district of Kona. He
was accompanied by his family, of which his daughter, Kaahumanu,
was the most attractive feature.
Twenty years before Keeaumoku, who was of the royal line, rebelled
against Kalaniopuu, and was defeated and forced to find refuge on Maui,
whose moi, Kamehamehanui, had died but a few days before, leaving the
government to his brother Kahekili. Keeaumoku, whose fortunes were
desperate, succeeded in captivating and marrying Namahana, the widow
of the deceased king, very much to the chagrin and disappointment
of Kahekili, whose claim to the dowager was sustained by the royal
custom of the time. A difficulty followed, and Keeaumoku and his wife
took up their residence on the northern side of the island. But they
were not permitted to remain there in peace. Through the hostility
of Kahekili they were driven to Molokai, and thence to the district
of Hana, in eastern Maui, which was then held by the king of Hawaii,
and there, through the mercy of Kalaniopuu, they were allowed for some
years to reside; and there, in 1768, Kaahumanu was born. On the death
of Kalaniopuu, in 1782, Keeaumoku returned to Hawaii, and in the war
for the succession espoused the cause of Kamehameha and became one
of his chief counselors and captains.
Kaahumanu was one of the most attractive women of her time, and
inherited something of the restless and independent spirit of her
warlike father. She was in her eighteenth year when she made her
appearance at the court of Kamehameha, during the festival of Lono,
in 1785. The wives of Kamehameha were well along in years, Peleuli
being the mother of a full-grown son, and Kaahumanu charmed the great
chief with her freshness and independence. His warlike soul yielded to
the fascination, and to win her smile he took part in the contests of
the festival and overcame all competitors. He then proposed to make
her his wife. Keeaumoku readily consented, but Kaahumanu could only
be won by the promise that her children should become the political
heirs of Kamehameha. This promise was given, and Kaahumanu became
the wife of Kamehameha. It is probable that he intended to observe
the compact at that time, but as Kaahumanu died childless he was
in the end left to dispose of the succession through other and more
distinguished channels.
Kaahumanu became the wife of Kamehameha's heart. He loved her as well
as he was capable of loving any woman, and she was the only one whose
indiscretions were regarded by him with feelings of jealousy. His other
wives were not restricted by him to his sole attentions, and even the
blue-blooded Keopuolani, whom he subsequently married, and who became
the mother of his heirs to the throne, had a joint husband in Hoapili.
But in the affections of Kaahumanu Kamehameha would brook no joint
occupant or rival. She doubtless sought to avail herself of the
privileges of the times, but Kamehameha objected with a frown which
would have meant death to another, and for years their relations were
the reverse of harmonious.
Kaiana's father was Ahaula, who was the son of Keawe, king of Hawaii,
by a mother whose name is now unknown. The mother of Kaiana was
Kaupekamoku, a granddaughter of Ahia, of the family of Hilo, from
whom the present sovereign of the islands draws his strain. The
birthplace of Kaiana is not recorded, but he was probably reared in
the neighborhood of Hilo, and thoroughly instructed in all the chiefly
accomplishments of the period. He grew to a splendid manhood. He
was nearly six and a half feet in height, was well proportioned,
and possessed a strikingly handsome face. This is the testimony of
Captain Meares, with whom he made a voyage to China in 1787.
Kaiana was of high rank and boundless ambition, and in early manhood
cast his fortunes with Kahekili, the warlike moi of Maui, to whom he
was related. He was among the prominent chiefs who assisted Kahekili
in his conquest of Oahu in 1783, and took a distinguished part in the
decisive battle of Kaheiki. Kahahana, the unfortunate king of Oahu,
escaped to the hills, where he remained secreted for nearly two years,
when he was betrayed by the brother of his wife and slain by order
of Kahekili.
This cruel treatment of Kahahana, together with the rapacity of the
invaders, created a revulsion of feeling among the Oahu chiefs, and
a wide-spread conspiracy was organized by the father of Kahahana and
others against Kahekili and the Maui chiefs to whom had been assigned
lands in the several districts of the island. The plan was to rise
in concert and kill them all in one night, including Kahekili. But
the murderous project miscarried. By some means it became known to
Kahekili, and he despatched messengers to the threatened chiefs,
warning them of their danger. All but one of them were notified. The
messenger failed to reach Hueu, who was at Waialua, and he was
killed. But fearfully was his death avenged. Kahekili collected his
forces for a war for blood. Men, women and children were butchered
without mercy, and the native Oahu chiefs were almost extirpated. So
great was the slaughter that one of the Maui chiefs built a house at
Lapakea, the walls of which were laid up with the bones of the slain.
In this rebellion a number of Kahekili's own chiefs turned against
him, among whom were Kaiana and Kaneoneo, the latter being the first
husband of Kamakahelei, queen of Kauai. What incited the defection
of Kaiana is not known, but he was probably dissatisfied with the
lands apportioned to him by Kahekili, and hoped to profit by the
restoration of the island to native rule.
Kaneoneo was killed, but Kaiana managed to escape to Kauai. Kaneoneo
was of the royal line of Kauai, and, as already stated, the first
husband of the queen of that island. How he came to be a supporter
of Kahekili in his conquest of Oahu, or what prompted his subsequent
espousal of the cause of the Oahu chiefs, are matters which tradition
has left to conjecture.
Kamakahelei's second husband, whom she had selected some years
before while her first was living, as was then the custom, was the
gallant Kaeo, or Kaeokulani, the younger brother of Kahekili. He was
commended to her not more through his princely blood than his many
accomplishments and graces of person, and she appears to have been
greatly attached to him.
She had two daughters with Kaneoneo, both of whom were of marriageable
age when she became the wife of Kaeo. She was the granddaughter,
it may be mentioned, of Lonoikahaupu, a prince of Kauai, who in his
younger years visited Hawaii, was accepted as the temporary husband of
Kalani, the sister of Keawe, and through her became the grandfather
of Keeaumoku and his two distinguished brothers. The daughters of
the queen were Lelemahoalani and Kapuaamohu, the latter of whom,
in marriage with Kaumualii, the last independent king of Kauai,
became the grandmother of the present queen, Kapiolani.
Kaeo took no part in the conquest of Oahu by his brother, but remained
at Kauai, assisting the queen in her government, while Kaneoneo found
occupation first in aiding and then in opposing Kahekili. Escaping from
Oahu after the defeat of the rebellious chiefs and death of Kaneoneo,
Kaiana presented himself before the queen of Kauai, who was a distant
relative, and Kaeo, who was of closer kinship, and related to them the
story of Kahekili's merciless operations on Oahu. He sought to create
an active sympathy in favor of the unfortunate Oahuans, but Kaeo was
too sagacious to place himself in hostility to his warlike brother, who
had extended his sway over all the islands between Kauai and Hawaii.
However, Kaiana was kindly received at the court of Kauai, and given
lands for his proper maintenance. But he could not remain quiet. While
the clash of arms was heard on the other islands, he chafed under
the restraints of his exile, and attempted to organize a force of
warriors for a descent upon Oahu. Kaeo prevented the departure of the
expedition, however, and a mutual feeling of suspicion and antagonism
was soon developed between him and his reckless and restless cousin.
As the avenues to advancement through the chances of war seemed to
be temporarily closed to him, Kaiana donned his best attire, gave
entertainments and began vigorously to play the courtier. He first
sought to supplant Kaeo in the affections of the queen. Failing
in that, he next paid court to her daughter Kapuaamohu. The latter
was disposed to regard his suit with favor, but Kaeo, through the
pretended advice of a kaula, objected to the alliance, and in a spirit
of recklessness Kaiana embarked in the ship Nootka for China late in
1787. That vessel, in the course of trade, touched at Kauai just as
the fortunes of Kaiana seemed to be the most desperate, and Captain
Meares was easily prevailed upon to permit the handsome Hawaiian to
accompany him to the Asiatic coast.
Arriving in Canton, Kaiana spent some months in studying the arts of
war and mingling with the people of strange races, and in the latter
part of 1788 returned in the Iphigenia to Kauai, bringing with him a
very considerable supply of muskets, powder, lead and other munitions
of war. As the manner in which he secured these supplies is not
stated, we are constrained to believe that he must have taken with
him to China a quantity of sandal-wood, which was readily marketable
in that country.
But Kaeo would not permit him to land on Kauai. The clouds had
indicated approaching danger the day before, and Kaiana was told that
he would be slain and sacrificed if his foot touched the shore. The
vessel, therefore, sailed for Hawaii, where Kaiana landed and
offered his services to Kamehameha. They were promptly accepted. His
supply of arms and knowledge of other lands rendered him a valuable
ally at the time, and Kamehameha gave him an important command and
took him into his fullest confidence. This was early in 1789, and,
in the succeeding wars with Keoua, Kaiana became an active leader,
as already mentioned. The knives, hatchets, axes and swords brought
by him from China were found to be useful, but the fire-arms were
generally of old patterns, and the most of them were soon rendered
entirely unserviceable through the inability of the natives to keep
them in repair.
V.
Very soon after her marriage Kaahumanu was detected in flagrant
flirtations with certain chiefs whose business brought them to
the court of her husband, and Kamehameha set a close watch upon
her actions. This led to bitter words between them, and in time it
became a matter of gossip that Kamehameha was jealous of his young
wife. The arrival of Kaiana added another to the list of Kaahumanu's
admirers, and in time another wrinkle to the stern face of her
warrior-husband. Kaiana was one of the handsomest chiefs of his
day, and Kaahumanu could not disguise her infatuation for him. But,
whatever may have been the temptation, he was too discreet to awaken
the jealousy of Kamehameha, and was not displeased when he was
despatched with an army against Keoua in the distant district of Kau.
After the death of Kalaniopuu, in 1782, and the defeat and death of
Kiwalao, the widow of the former, whose name was Kalola, left for Maui,
taking with her the widow and infant daughter of Kiwalao. Kahekili,
brother of Kalola, provided for the family and gave them his
protection. After the conquest of Oahu by Kahekili he removed his
court to that island, taking with him his sister and her family. In
1785 they returned to Maui with Kalanikupule, the son of Kahekili,
who had been appointed viceroy of the island, and there remained,
principally at Olowalu, until 1790, when Kalanikupule was driven from
Maui by Kamehameha, and they sought refuge at Kalamaula, on the island
of Molokai.
Seeing his way clear to the conquest of the group, and anxious to
ally himself to the superior blood which came through Kalola and
Kiwalao, Kamehameha despatched a messenger to Molokai, requesting
Kalola not to return to Oahu, but to place herself and family under
his protection. Following the messenger to Molokai, and learning that
Kalola was ill and not expected to recover, Kamehameha paid her a
visit in person, and received the assurance of the dying dowager that,
when she passed away, her daughter and granddaughter should be his.
The granddaughter was Keopuolani, then a girl of fourteen. She
subsequently became the wife of Kamehameha and the mother of the
ruling princes of his dynasty. In recognition of her superior rank
Kamehameha always approached her on his knees, even after she had
become his wife and he the undisputed sovereign of the group. Such
was the deference invariably paid to rank at that time and earlier.
Kalola did not live but a few days after her meeting with
Kamehameha. At her death he manifested his sorrow by knocking out two
of his front teeth, and then formally took charge of and removed to
Hawaii her daughter and granddaughter, not only as a sacred legacy
from Kalola, but as a token of reconciliation and alliance between
himself and the elder branch of the Keawe dynasty.
Kaahumanu well understood the meaning of this reconciliation, and it
was with little pleasure that she welcomed Liliha and her daughter to
Hawaii. She knew it was the purpose of Kamehameha to marry Keopuolani
as soon as she reached a proper age; but she was childless and could
urge no valid objection to the union. The thought of it, however,
did not sweeten her temper or quicken her sense of propriety. She
became more reckless, and her husband more and more suspicious,
until they finally separated, when Kaahumanu returned to her father,
where she remained for more than a year, and where, it is said,
Kaiana frequently visited her.
Of these visits Kamehameha was apprised by Kepupuohi, the wife of
Kaiana, of whom tradition makes but spare mention. She was jealous
of her husband's attentions to Kaahumanu, and it was through her
that Kamehameha became aware of their secret meetings. His spies had
overlooked what the jealous eyes of the wife had discovered, and it is
intimated that they retaliated in kind upon the recreant couple. Be
that as it may, Kamehameha sent for Kaahumanu, and through the
offices of Captain Vancouver, whose vessel was at that time anchored
in Kealakeakua Bay, a reconciliation was effected between them.
But Kamehameha did not forgive Kaiana. His thoughts were bent upon
the conquest of Oahu, and he needed his assistance in that important
enterprise; but he determined to crush him whenever he could do so
without injury to himself. Kaiana felt the coldness of his chief, and
had observed unmistakable evidences of his hatred; but he neglected
no duty, and resolved that, if an open rupture could not be avoided,
Kamehameha should not be in a position to urge a reason for it that
would command the respect and approval of his supporting chiefs.
Summoning his district chiefs to muster their quotas of canoes and
armed men, Kamehameha prepared for the conquest of Oahu and a final
struggle for the mastery of the group. It is said that his army
numbered sixteen thousand warriors, some of them armed with muskets,
and that so great was the number of his canoes that they almost
blackened the channels through which they passed.
The army embarked from Hawaii early in 1795, and, after touching at
Lahaina for refreshments, landed for final preparation on Molokai, the
fleet of canoes being distributed for miles along the coast. Kaiana
had promptly responded to the call of his chief, and was there with
a heavy quota of warriors and canoes.
A council of war was called at Kaunakakai to discuss the plans
of the campaign, but Kaiana was not invited to participate in its
proceedings. His exclusion from the council alarmed Kaiana, and he
suspected that he was the principal subject of discussion. He left
his quarters, and calling at the house of Namahana, the mother of
Kaahumanu, learned from her that the council was discussing some
private matter, the nature of which she did not know. He next visited
Kalaimoku, after the adjournment of the council, and endeavored
to ascertain what had been done, but the answers of the chief
were evasive and unsatisfactory. He did not dare to tell Kaiana,
who was allied to him in blood, that Kamehameha had charged Kaiana
before the council with meditated treason, which implied his death,
and that his advisers had prevailed upon him to allow the matter to
rest until after the conquest of Oahu.
On his way back to Hamiloloa, where his warriors were encamped,
Kaiana again passed the house of Namahana. It was past sunset, and
he was striding through the dying twilight, his thoughts a tumult of
doubt and indignation, when from behind a clump of bushes he heard
his name pronounced in a low tone. He stopped and listened, and
"Kaiana!" again came to him in a soft voice.
Fearful of treachery, he hesitated for a moment, then drew a knife
from a scabbard hanging from his neck, and cautiously walked around
the screening undergrowth.
"Who calls?" inquired Kaiana, observing a crouching figure among
the bushes.
"Your friend," was the answer; and Kaahumanu rose and stood before him.
What passed between them can only be conjectured; but Kaahumanu must
have satisfied Kaiana of Kamehameha's hostile purposes concerning him,
for when he reached his quarters he promptly informed his brother
Nahiolea of the danger awaiting both of them, and apprised him of his
resolution to abandon Kamehameha on the passage to Oahu and join forces
with Kalanikupule. "The movement is hazardous," explained Kaiana,
"but it will enable us, at least, to die like chiefs, with arms in
our hands, instead of being slain like dogs."
As the several divisions were preparing to embark for Oahu the
next morning, Kaiana visited the squadron of canoes set apart for
the accommodation of the wives and daughters of Kamehameha and his
principal chiefs, and secretly informed his wife of his purpose
to join Kalanikupule. She expressed surprise at the announcement,
but declined to follow him, declaring that she preferred to cast her
fortunes with Kamehameha. "But," she continued, bitterly, "perhaps
Kaahumanu would follow you, if asked to do so!" Kaiana made no reply
to this cutting suggestion, but waved his wife a hasty farewell,
and joined his embarking warriors.
The other divisions of the invading army were well out to sea
before Kaiana's sails were set, and he found no difficulty in making
his way unobserved to Kailua, on the northern side of the island,
while Kamehameha landed with the main body of his forces in the
neighborhood of Honolulu, his canoes extending along the beach from
Waialae to Waikiki.
Disembarking his warriors at Kailua, to the number of perhaps fifteen
hundred, Kaiana offered his services to Kalanikupule, whose army was
rapidly occupying positions in the valleys back of Honolulu. The moi
received him with open arms, promising him the sovereignty of Maui
should they succeed in destroying Kamehameha; and the united armies,
climbing over the Nuuanu and Kalihi passes, confronted the advancing
lines of Kamehameha.
Learning of the desertion of Kaiana and the warriors under his command,
Kamehameha exhibited but little surprise. He did not doubt his ability
to defeat the combined armies of his opponents, for the auguries had
been favorable and he had faith in his gods; nor did he regret that
through his defection Kaiana had at last placed himself in a position
to be dealt with as an open enemy.
With his war-god Kaili in the van, Kamehameha, at the head of a
mighty force, marched up Nuuanu Valley, where, three miles back of
Honolulu, behind a stone wall stretching from one hill to the other
of the narrowing gorge, was entrenched the main body of the allied
armies. And behind the wall stood Kaiana, grim, silent and desperate,
with a musket in his hand, awaiting the approach of Kamehameha.
Nearer and nearer advanced the attacking column, with shouts that were
repaid by yells of defiance from behind the defences. A few volleys
of musketry were exchanged by the hundred or more of warriors in
possession of fire-arms on each side, but Kaiana took no part in the
noisy conflict. He was watching for the approach of one whose life
he longed for more than all the rest, and for which he was willing
to exchange his own.
But he watched in vain. A field-piece, under the direction of John
Young, was brought to bear upon the wall, and Kaiana fell with the
first shot, mortally wounded. After a few more shots the Hawaiians
charged up the hill, their shouts drowning the roar of the breakers
against the reef below. Kaiana drew himself up against the wall. His
heart had been laid almost bare, and his eyes were growing dim. With
an effort he raised his musket, fired it at random in the direction
of the storming column, hoping the bullet might by chance find the
heart of Kamehameha, and then fell dead.
The rout of the Oahuans and their allies was complete. They broke and
fled in all directions. Some were driven over the pali, a precipice
six or seven hundred feet in height at the head of the valley, and
others escaped over the hills. Kalanikupule found refuge for a time
in the mountains, but he was finally captured, slain and offered as
a sacrifice to Kamehameha's war-god at Waikiki.
This was the last battle of the conquest, and the victory gave to
Kamehameha the sovereignty of the group, for the king of Kauai,
recognizing his power, soon after yielded to him his peaceful
allegiance. But it brought to a close the career of one of the most
noted of modern Hawaiian chiefs--Kaiana-a-Ahaula--over whose death
Kamehameha rejoiced, and Kaahumanu mourned in silence. Her love proved
fatal to more than one, but he was the grandest and brightest of all
who perished by the sweet poison of her smiles.
KAALA, THE FLOWER OF LANAI.
CHARACTERS.
Kamehameha I., king of Hawaii.
Oponui, a chief of Lanai.
Kaala, daughter of Oponui.
Kalani, mother of Kaala.
Kaaialii, a lieutenant of the king.
Milou, the bone-breaker.
Ua, a friend of Kaala.
Papakua, a priest.
KAALA, THE FLOWER OF LANAI.
A STORY OF THE SPOUTING CAVE OF PALIKAHOLO.
I.
Beneath one of the boldest of the rocky bluffs against which dash
the breakers of Kaumalapau Bay, on the little island of Lanai, is
the Puhio-Kaala, or "Spouting Cave of Kaala." The only entrance to
it is through the vortex of a whirlpool, which marks the place where,
at intervals, the receding waters rise in a column of foam above the
surface. Within, the floor of the cave gradually rises from the opening
beneath the waters until a landing is reached above the level of the
tides, and to the right and left, farther than the eye can penetrate
by the dim light struggling through the surging waves, stretch dank
and shelly shores, where crabs, polypii, sting-rays and other noisome
creatures of the deep find protection against their larger enemies.
This cavern was once a favorite resort of Mooalii, the great
lizard-god; but as the emissaries of Ukanipo, the shark-god, annoyed
him greatly and threatened to imprison him within it by piling a
mountain of rocks against the opening, he abandoned it and found a
home in a cave near Kaulapapa, in the neighboring island of Molokai,
where many rude temples were erected to him by the fishermen.
Before the days of Kamehameha I. resolute divers frequently visited the
Spouting Cave, and on one occasion fire, enclosed in a small calabash,
was taken down through the whirlpool, with the view of making a light
and exploring its mysterious chambers; but the fire was scattered
and extinguished by an unseen hand, and those who brought it hastily
retreated to escape a shower of rocks sent down upon them from the
roof of the cavern. The existence of the cave is still known, and the
whirlpool and spouting column marking the entrance to it are pointed
out; but longer and longer have grown the intervals between the visits
of divers to its sunless depths, until the present generation can
point to not more than one, perhaps, who has ventured to enter them.
Tradition has brought down the outlines of a number of supernatural
and romantic stories connected with the Spouting Cave, but the nearest
complete and most recent of these mookaaos is the legend of Kaala,
the flower of Lanai, which is here given at considerably less length
than native narration accords it.
It was during an interval of comparative quiet, if not of peace, in the
stormy career of Kamehameha I., near the close of the last century,
and after the battle of Maunalei, that he went with his court to the
island of Lanai for a brief season of recreation. The visit was not
made for the purpose of worshipping at the great heiau of Kaunola,
which was then half in ruins, or at any of the lesser temples
scattered here and there over the little island, and dedicated,
in most instances, to fish-gods. He went to Kealia simply to enjoy
a few days of rest away from the scenes of his many conflicts, and
feast for a time upon the affluent fishing-grounds of that locality.
He made the journey with six double canoes, all striped with yellow,
and his own bearing the royal ensign. He took with him his war-god,
Kaili, and a small army of attendants, consisting of priests, kahunas,
kahili and spittoon-bearers, stewards, cooks and other household
servants, as well as a retinue of distinguished chiefs with their
personal retainers in their own canoes, and a hundred warriors in
the capacity of a royal guard.
Landing, the victorious chief was received with enthusiasm by the
five or six thousand people then inhabiting the island. He took up
his residence in the largest of the several cottages provided for him
and his personal attendants. Provisions were brought in abundance,
and flowers and sweet-scented herbs and vines were contributed
without stint. The chief and his titled attendants were garlanded
with them. They were strewn in his path, cast at his door and thrown
upon his dwelling, until their fragrance seemed to fill all the air.
Among the many who brought offerings of flowers was the beautiful
Kaala, "the sweet-scented flower of Lanai," as she was called. She
was a girl of fifteen, and in grace and beauty had no peer on the
island. She was the daughter of Oponui, a chief of one of the lower
grades, and her admirers were counted by the hundreds. Of the many
who sought her as a wife was Mailou, "the bone-breaker." He was a
huge, muscular savage, capable of crushing almost any ordinary man
in an angry embrace; and while Kaala hated, feared and took every
occasion to avoid him, her father favored his suit, doubtless pleased
at the thought of securing in a son-in-law a friend and champion so
distinguished for his strength and ferocity.
As Kaala scattered flowers before the chief her graceful movements
and modesty were noted by Kaaialii, and when he saw her face he was
enraptured with its beauty. Although young in years, he was one of
Kamehameha's most valued lieutenants, and had distinguished himself
in many battles. He was of chiefly blood and bearing, with sinewy
limbs and a handsome face, and when he stopped to look into the eyes
of Kaala and tell her that she was beautiful, she thought the words,
although they had been frequently spoken to her by others, had never
sounded so sweetly to her before. He asked her for a simple flower,
and she twined a lei for his neck. He asked her for a smile, and she
looked up into his face and gave him her heart.
They saw each other the next day, and the next, and then Kaaialii
went to his chief and said:
"I love the beautiful Kaala, daughter of Oponui. Your will is law. Give
her to me for a wife."
For a moment Kamehameha smiled without speaking, and then replied:
"The girl is not mine to give. We must be just. I will send for her
father. Come to-morrow."
Kaaialii had hoped for a different answer; but neither protest nor
further explanation was admissible, and all he could do was to thank
the king and retire.
A messenger brought Oponui to the presence of Kamehameha. He was
received kindly, and told that Kaaialii loved Kaala and desired to
make her his wife. The information kindled the wrath of Oponui. He
hated Kaaialii, but did not dare to exhibit his animosity before the
king. He was in the battle of Maunalei, where he narrowly escaped
death at the hands of Kaaialii, after his spear had found the heart
of one of his dearest friends, and he felt that he would rather give
his daughter to the sharks than to one who had sought his life and
slain his friend. But he pretended to regard the proposal with favor,
and, in answer to the king, expressed regret that he had promised
his daughter to Mailou, the bone-breaker. "However," he continued,
"in respect to the interest which it has pleased you, great chief,
to take in the matter, I am content that the girl shall fall to the
victor in a contest with bare hands between Mailou and Kaaialii."
The proposal seemed to be fair, and, not doubting that Kaaialii would
promptly accept it, the king gave it his approval, and the contest
was fixed for the day following. Oponui received the announcement
with satisfaction, not doubting that Mailou would crush Kaaialii
in his rugged embrace as easily as he had broken the bones of many
an adversary.
News of the coming contest spread rapidly, and the next day thousands
of persons assembled at Kealia to witness it. Kaala was in an agony
of fear. The thought of becoming the wife of the bone-breaker almost
distracted her, for it was said that he had had many wives, all of
whom had disappeared one after another as he tired of them, and the
whisper was that he had crushed and thrown them into the sea. And,
besides, she loved Kaaialii, and deemed it scarcely possible that he
should be able to meet and successfully combat the prodigious strength
and ferocity of one who had never been subdued.
As Kaaialii was approaching the spot where the contest was to
take place, in the presence of Kamehameha and his court and a large
concourse of less distinguished spectators, Kaala sprang from the side
of her father, and, seizing the young chief by the hand, exclaimed:
"You have indeed slain my people in war, but rescue me from the
horrible embrace of the bone-breaker, and I will catch the squid and
beat the kapa for you all my days!"
With a dark frown upon his face, Oponui tore the girl from her lover
before he could reply. Kaaialii followed her with his eyes until she
disappeared among the spectators, and then pressed forward through the
crowd and stepped within the circle reserved for the combatants. Mailou
was already there. He was indeed a muscular brute, with long arms,
broad shoulders and mighty limbs tattooed with figures of sharks and
birds of prey. He was naked to the loins, and, as Kaaialii approached,
his fingers opened and closed, as if impatient to clutch and tear
his adversary in pieces.
Although less bulky than the bone-breaker, Kaaialii was large and
perfectly proportioned, with well-knit muscles and loins and shoulders
suggestive of unusual strength. Nude, with the exception of a maro,
he was a splendid specimen of vigorous manhood; but, in comparison
with those of the bone-breaker, his limbs appeared to be frail and
feminine, and a general expression of sympathy for the young chief
was observed in the faces of the large assemblage as they turned from
him to the sturdy giant he was about to encounter.
The contest was to be one of strength, courage, agility and skill
combined. Blows with the clenched fist, grappling, strangling, tearing,
breaking and every other injury which it was possible to inflict were
permitted. In hakoko (wrestling) and moko (boxing) contests certain
rules were usually observed, in order that fatal injuries might be
avoided; but in the combat between Kaaialii and Mailou no rule or
custom was to govern. It was to be a savage struggle to the death.
Taunt and boasting are the usual prelude to personal conflicts
among the uncivilized; nor was it deemed unworthy the Saxon knight
to meet his adversary with insult and bravado. The object was not
more to unnerve his opponent than to steel his own courage. With
the bone-breaker, however, there was little fear or doubt concerning
the result. He knew the measure of his own prodigious strength, and,
with a malignant smile that laid bare his shark-like teeth, he glared
with satisfaction upon his rival.
"Ha! ha!" laughed the bone-breaker, taking a stride toward Kaaialii;
"so you are the insane youth who has dared to meet Mailou in combat! Do
you know who I am? I am the bone-breaker! In my hands the limbs of
men are like tender cane. Come, and with one hand let me strangle you!"
"You will need both!" replied Kaaialii. "I know you. You are a breaker
of the bones of women, not of men! You speak brave words, but have
the heart of a coward. Let the word be given, and if you do not run
from me to save your life, as I half-suspect you will, I will put my
foot upon your broken neck before you find time to cry for mercy!"
Before Mailou could retort the word was given, and with an exclamation
of rage he sprang at the throat of Kaaialii. Feigning as if to meet
the shock, the latter waited until the hands of Mailou were almost
at his throat, when with a quick movement he struck them up, swayed
his body to the left, and with his right foot adroitly tripped his
over-confident assailant. The momentum of Mailou was so great that he
fell headlong to the earth. Springing upon him before he could rise,
Kaaialii seized his right arm, and with a vigorous blow of the foot
broke the bone below the elbow. Rising and finding his right arm
useless, Mailou attempted to grapple his adversary with the left,
but a well-delivered blow felled him again to the earth, and Kaaialii
broke his left arm as he had broken the right. Regaining his feet, and
unable to use either hand, with a wild howl of despair the bone-breaker
rushed upon Kaaialii, with the view of dealing him a blow with his
bent head; but the young chief again tripped him as he passed, and,
seizing him by the hair as he fell, placed his knees against the back
of his prostrate foe and broke his spine.
This, of course, ended the struggle, and Kaaialii was declared the
victor, amidst the plaudits of the spectators and the congratulations
of Kamehameha and the court. Breaking from her father, who was
grievously disappointed at the unlooked-for result, and who sought
to detain her, Kaala sprang through the crowd and threw herself into
the arms of Kaaialii. Oponui would have protested, and asked that
his daughter might be permitted to visit her mother before becoming
the wife of Kaaialii; but the king put an end to his hopes by placing
the hand of Kaala in that of the victorious chief, and saying to him:
"You have won her nobly. She is now your wife. Take her with you."
Although silenced by the voice of the king, and compelled to submit to
the conditions of a contest which he had himself proposed, Oponui's
hatred of Kaaialii knew no abatement, and all that day and the night
following he sat alone by the sea-shore, devising a means by which
Kaala and her husband might be separated. He finally settled upon
a plan.
The morning after her marriage Oponui visited Kaala, as if he had
just returned from Mahana, where her mother was supposed to be then
living. He greeted her with apparent affection, and was profuse in
his expressions of friendship for Kaaialii. He embraced them both,
and said: "I now see that you love each other; my prayer is that you
may live long and happily together." He then told Kaala that Kalani,
her mother, was lying dangerously ill at Mahana, and, believing that
she would not recover, desired to see and bless her daughter before she
died. Kaala believed the story, for her father wept when he told it,
and moaned as if for the dead, and beat his breast; and, with many
protestations of love, Kaaialii allowed her to depart with Oponui,
with the promise from both of them that she would speedily return to
the arms of her husband.
With some misgivings, Kaaialii watched her from the top of the hill
above Kealia until she descended into the valley of Palawai. There
leaving the path that led to Mahana, they journeyed toward the bay of
Kaumalapau. Satisfied that her father was for some purpose deceiving
her, Kaala protested and was about to return, when he acknowledged that
her mother was not ill at Mahana, as he had represented to Kaaialii in
order to secure his consent to her departure, but at the sea-shore,
where she had gathered crabs, shrimps, limpets and other delicacies,
and prepared a feast in celebration of her marriage.
Reassured by the plausible story, and half-disposed to pardon the
deception admitted by her father, Kaala proceeded with him to the
sea-shore. She saw that her mother was not there, and heard no sound
but the beating of the waves against the rocks. She looked up into
the face of her father for an explanation; but his eyes were cold,
and a cruel smile upon his lips told her better than words that she
had been betrayed.
"Where is my mother?" she inquired; and then bitterly added: "I do not
see her fire by the shore. Must we search for her among the sharks?"
Oponui no longer sought to disguise his real purpose. "Hear the
truth!" he said, with a wild glare in his eyes that whitened the lips
of Kaala. "The shark shall be your mate, but he will not harm you. You
shall go to his home, but he will not devour you. Down among the gods
of the sea I will leave you until Kaaialii, hated by me above all
things that breathe, shall have left Lanai, and then I will bring
you back to earth!"
Terrified at these words, Kaala screamed and sought to fly; but her
heartless father seized her by the hand and dragged her along the
shore until they reached a bench of the rocky bluff overlooking the
opening to the Spouting Cave. Oponui was among the few who had entered
the cavern through its gate of circling waters, and he did not for
a moment doubt that within its gloomy walls, where he was about to
place her, Kaala would remain securely hidden until such time as he
might choose to restore her to the light.
Standing upon the narrow ledge above the entrance to the cave,
marked by alternate whirlpool and receding column, Kaala divined
the barbarous purpose of her father, and implored him to give her
body to the sharks at once rather than leave her living in the damp
and darkness of the Spouting Cave, to be tortured by the slimy and
venomous creatures of the sea.
Deaf to her entreaties, Oponui watched until the settling column went
down into the throat of the whirlpool, when he gathered the frantic and
struggling girl in his arms and sprang into the circling abyss. Sinking
a fathom or more below the surface, and impelled by a strong current
setting toward the mouth of the cave, he soon found and was swept
through the entrance, and in a few moments stood upon a rocky beach
in the dim twilight of the cavern, with the half-unconscious Kaala
clinging to his neck.
The only light penetrating the cave was the little refracted through
the waters, and every object that was not too dark to be seen looked
greenish and ghostly. Crabs, eels, sting-rays and other noisome
creatures of the deep were crawling stealthily among the rocks, and
the dull thunder of the battling waves was the only sound that could
be distinguished.
Disengaging her arms, he placed her upon the beach above the reach of
the waters, and then sat down beside her to recover his breath and
wait for a retreating current to bear him to the surface. Reviving,
Kaala looked around her with horror, and piteously implored her father
not to leave her in that dreadful place beneath the waters.
For some time he made no reply, and then it was to tell her harshly
that she might return with him if she would promise to accept the
love of the chief of Olowalu, in the valley of Palawai, and allow
Kaaialii to see her in the embrace of another. This she refused to do,
declaring that she would perish in the cave, or the attempt to leave
it, rather than be liberated on such monstrous conditions.
"Then here you will remain," said Oponui, savagely, "until I return, or
the chief of Olowalu comes to bear you off to his home in Maui!" Then,
rising to his feet, he continued hastily, as he noted a turn in the
current at the opening: "You cannot escape without assistance. If
you attempt it you will be dashed against the rocks and become the
food of sharks."
With this warning Oponui turned and plunged into the water. Diving and
passing with the current through the entrance, he was borne swiftly
to the surface and to his full length up into the spouting column;
but he coolly precipitated himself into the surrounding waters,
and with a few strokes of the arms reached the shore.
II.
Kaaialii watched the departure of Kaala and her father until they
disappeared in the valley of Palawai, and then gloomily returned to
his hut. His fears troubled him. He thought of his beautiful Kaala,
and his heart ached for her warm embrace. Then he thought of the
looks and words of Oponui, and recalled in both a suggestion of
deceit. Thus harassed with his thoughts, he spent the day in roaming
alone among the hills, and the following night in restless slumber,
with dreams of death and torture. The portentous cry of an alae roused
him from his kapa-moe before daylight, and until the sun rose he sat
watching the stars. Then he climbed the hill overlooking the valley
of Palawai to watch for the return of Kaala, and wonder what could
have detained her so long. He watched until the sun was well up in
the heavens, feeling neither thirst nor hunger, and at length saw a
pau fluttering in the wind far down the valley.
A woman was rapidly approaching, and his heart beat with joy, for he
thought she was Kaala. Nearer and nearer she came, and Kaaialii, still
hopeful, ran down to the path to meet her. Her step was light and her
air graceful, and it was not until he had opened his arms to receive
her that he saw that the girl was not Kaala. She was Ua, the friend of
Kaala, and almost her equal in beauty. They had been reared together,
and in their love for each other were like sisters. They loved the
same flowers, the same wild songs of the birds, the same paths among
the hills, and, now that Kaala loved Kaaialii, Ua loved him also.
Recognizing Kaaialii as she approached, Ua stopped before him, and
bent her eyes to the ground without speaking.
"Where is Kaala?" inquired Kaaialii, raising the face of Ua and staring
eagerly into it. "Have you seen her? Has any ill come to her? Speak!"
"I have not seen her, and know of no ill that has befallen her,"
replied the girl; "but I have come to tell you that Kaala has not
yet reached the hut of Kalani, her mother; and as Oponui, with a dark
look in his face, was seen to lead her through the forest of Kumoku,
it is feared that she has been betrayed and will not be allowed to
return to Kealia."
"And that, too, has been my fear since the moment I lost sight of her
in the valley of Palawai," said Kaaialii. "I should not have trusted
her father, for I knew him to be treacherous and unforgiving. May
the wrath of the gods follow him if harm has come to her through his
cruelty! But I will find her if she is on the island! The gods have
given her to me, and in life or death she shall be mine!"
Terrified at the wild looks and words of Kaaialii, Ua clasped her
hands in silence.
"Hark!" he continued, bending his ear toward the valley. "It seems
that I hear her calling for me now!" And with an exclamation of rage
and despair Kaaialii started at a swift pace down the path taken by
Kaala the day before. As he hurried onward, he saw, at intervals,
the footprints of Kaala in the dust, and every imprint seemed to
increase his speed.
Reaching the point where the Mahana path diverged from the somewhat
broader ala of the valley, he followed it for some distance hoping
that Ua had been misinformed, and that Kaala had really visited her
mother and might be found with her; but when he looked for and failed
to find the marks of her feet where in reason they should have been
seen had she gone to Mahana with her father, he returned and continued
his course down the valley.
Suddenly he stopped. The footprints for which he was watching had now
disappeared from the Palawai path, and for a moment he stood looking
irresolutely around, as if in doubt concerning the direction next
to be pursued. In his uncertainty several plans of action presented
themselves. One was, to see what information could be gathered from
Kaala's mother at Mahana, another to follow the Palawai valley to
the sea, and a third to return to Kealia and consult a kaula. While
these various suggestions were being rapidly canvassed, and before any
conclusion could be reached, the figure of a man was seen approaching
from the valley below.
Kaaialii secreted himself behind a rock, where he could watch the
path without being seen. The man drew nearer and nearer, until at
last Kaaialii was enabled to distinguish the features of Oponui,
of all men the one whom he most desired to meet. His muscles grew
rigid with wrath, and his hot breath burned the rock behind which
he was crouching. He buried his fingers in the earth to teach them
patience, and clenched his teeth to keep down a struggling exclamation
of vengeance. And so he waited until Oponui reached a curve in the
path which brought him, in passing, within a few paces of the eyes
that were savagely glaring upon him, and the next moment the two men
stood facing each other.
Startled at the unexpected appearance of Kaaialii, Oponui betrayed
his guilt at once by attempting to fly; but, with the cry of "Give
me Kaala!" Kaaialii sprang forward and endeavored to seize him by
the throat.
A momentary struggle followed; but Oponui was scarcely less powerful
than his adversary, and, his shoulders being bare, he succeeded in
breaking from the grasp of Kaaialii and seeking safety in flight
toward Kealia.
With a cry of disappointment, Kaaialii started in pursuit. Both were
swift of foot, and the race was like that of a hungry shark following
his prey. One was inspired by fear and the other with rage, and
every muscle of the runners was strained. Leaving the valley path,
Oponui struck for Kealia by a shorter course across the hills. He
hoped the roughness of the route and his better knowledge of it would
give him an advantage; but Kaaialii kept closely at his heels. On
they sped, up and down hills, across ravines and along rocky ridges,
until they reached Kealia, when Oponui suddenly turned to the left
and made a dash for the temple and puhonua not far distant. Kaaialii
divined his purpose, and with a last supreme effort sought to thwart
it. Gaining ground with every step, he made a desperate grasp at the
shoulder of Oponui just as the latter sprang through the entrance
and dropped to the earth exhausted within the protecting walls of
the puhonua. Kaaialii attempted to follow, but two priests promptly
stepped into the portal and refused to allow him to pass.
"Stand out of the way, or I will strangle you both!" exclaimed
Kaaialii, fiercely, as he threw himself against the guards.
"Are you insane?" said another long-haired priest, stepping forward
with a tabu staff in his hand. "Do you not know that this is a puhonua,
sacred to all who seek its protection? Would you bring down upon
yourself the wrath of the gods by shedding blood within its walls?"
"If I may not enter, then drive him forth!" replied Kaaialii, pointing
toward Oponui, who was lying upon the ground a few paces within,
intently regarding the proceedings at the gate.
"That cannot be," returned the priest. "Should he will to leave,
the way will not be closed to him; otherwise he may remain in safety."
"Coward!" cried Kaaialii, addressing Oponui in a taunting tone. "Is
it thus that you seek protection from the anger of an unarmed man? A
pau would better become you than a maro. You should twine leis and
beat kapa with women, and think no more of the business of men. Come
without the walls, if your trembling limbs will bear you, and I will
serve you as I did your friend, the breaker of women's bones. Come,
and I will tear from your throat the tongue that lied to Kaala,
and feed it to the dogs!"
A malignant smile wrinkled the face of Oponui, as he thought of Kaala
in her hiding-place under the sea, but he made no reply.
"Do you fear me?" continued Kaaialii. "Then arm yourself with spear
and battle-axe, and with bare hands I will meet and strangle you!"
Oponui remained silent, and in a paroxysm of rage and disappointment
Kaaialii threw himself upon the ground and cursed the tabu that barred
him from his enemy.
His friends found and bore him to his hut, and Ua, with gentle arts
and loving hands, sought to soothe and comfort him. But he would
not be consoled. He talked and thought alone of Kaala, and, hastily
partaking of food that he might retain his strength, started again
in search of her. Pitying his distress, Ua followed him--not closely,
but so that she might not lose sight of him altogether.
He traveled in every direction, stopping neither for food nor rest. Of
every one he met he inquired for Kaala, and called her name in the
deep valleys and on the hill-tops. Wandering near the sacred spring
at the head of the waters of Kealia, he met a white-haired priest
bearing from the fountain a calabash of water for ceremonial use in
one of the temples. The priest knew and feared him, for his looks
were wild, and humbly offered him water.
"I ask not for food or water, old man," said Kaaialii. "You are a
priest--perhaps a kaula. Tell me where I can find Kaala, the daughter
of Oponui, and I will pile your altars with sacrifices!"
"Son of the long spear," replied the priest, "I know you seek
the sweet-smelling flower of Palawai. Her father alone knows of
her hiding-place. But it is not here in the hills, nor is it in
the valleys. Oponui loves and frequents the sea. He hunts for the
squid in dark places, and dives for the great fish in deep waters. He
knows of cliffs that are hollow, and of caves with entrances below the
waves. He goes alone to the rocky shore, and sleeps with the fish-gods,
who are his friends. He--"
"No more of him!" interrupted the chief, impatiently. "Tell me what
has become of Kaala!"
"Be patient, and you shall hear," resumed the priest. "In one of
the caverns of the sea, known to Oponui and others, has Kaala been
hidden. So I see her now. The place is dark and her heart is full of
terror. Hasten to her. Be vigilant, and you will find her; but sleep
not, or she will be the food of the creatures of the sea."
Thanking the priest, Kaaialii started toward the bay of Kaumalapau,
followed by the faithful Ua, and did not rest until he stood upon
the bluff of Palikaholo, overlooking the sea. Wildly the waves beat
against the rocks. Looking around, he could discern no hiding-place
along the shore, and the thunder of the breakers and the screams of
the sea-gulls were the only sounds to be heard. In despair he raised
his voice and wildly exclaimed:
"Kaala! O Kaala! where are you? Do you sleep with the fish-gods,
and must I seek you in their homes among the sunken shores?"
The bluff where he was standing overlooked and was immediately above
the Spouting Cave, from the submerged entrance to which a column of
water was rising above the surface and breaking into spray. In the
mist of the upheaval he thought he saw the shadowy face and form of
Kaala, and in the tumult of the rushing waters fancied that he heard
her voice calling him to come to her.
"Kaala, I come!" he exclaimed, and with a wild leap sprang from the
cliff to clasp the misty form of his bride.
He sank below the surface, and, as the column disappeared with him
and he returned no more, Ua wailed upon the winds a requiem of love
and grief in words like these:
"Oh! dead is Kaaialii, the young chief of Hawaii,
The chief of few years and many battles!
His limbs were strong and his heart was gentle;
His face was like the sun, and he was without fear.
Dead is the slayer of the bone-breaker;
Dead is the chief who crushed the bones of Mailou;
Dead is the lover of Kaala and the loved of Ua.
For his love he plunged into the deep waters;
For his love he gave his life. Who is like Kaaialii?
Kaala is hidden away, and I am lonely;
Kaaialii is dead, and the black kapa is over my heart:
Now let the gods take the life of Ua!"
With a last look at the spot where Kaaialii had disappeared, Ua
hastened to Kealia, and at the feet of Kamehameha told of the rash act
of the despairing husband of Kaala. The king was greatly grieved at
the story of Ua, for he loved the young chief almost as if he had been
his son. "It is useless to search for the body of Kaaialii," he said,
"for the sharks have eaten it." Then, turning to one of his chiefs,
he continued: "No pile can be raised over his bones. Send for Ualua,
the poet, that a chant may be made in praise of Kaaialii."
Approaching nearer, Papakua, a priest, requested permission to
speak. It was granted, and he said:
"Let me hope that my words may be of comfort. I have heard the story
of Ua, and cannot believe that the young chief is dead. The spouting
waters into which Kaaialii leaped mark the entrance to the cave of
Palikaholo. Following downward the current, has he not been drawn into
the cavern, where he has found Kaala, and may still be living? Such,
at least, is my thought, great chief."
"A wild thought, indeed!" replied the king; "yet there is some comfort
in it, and we will see how much of truth it may reveal."
Preparations were hastily made, and with four of his sturdiest oarsmen
Kamehameha started around the shore for the Spouting Cave under the
bluff of Palikaholo, preceded by Ua in a canoe with Keawe, her brother.
III.
When Kaaialii plunged into the sea he had little thought of anything
but death. Grasping at the spouting column as he descended, it seemed
to sink with him to the surface, and even below it, and in a moment
he felt himself being propelled downward and toward the cliff by a
strong current. Recklessly yielding to the action of the waters,
he soon discerned an opening in the submerged base of the bluff,
and without an effort was drawn swiftly into it. The force of the
current subsided, and to his surprise his head rose above the surface
and he was able to breathe. His feet touched a rocky bottom, and
he rose and looked around with a feeling of bewilderment. His first
thought was that he was dead and had reached the dark shores of Po,
where Milu, prince of death, sits enthroned in a grove of kou trees;
but he smote his breast, and by the smart knew that he was living,
and had been borne by the waters into a cave beneath the cliff from
which he had leaped to grasp the misty form of Kaala.
Emerging from the water, Kaaialii found himself standing on the shore
of a dimly-lighted cavern. The air was chilly, and slimy objects
touched his feet, and others fell splashing into the water from the
rocks. He wondered whether it would be possible for him to escape from
the gloomy place, and began to watch the movements of the waters near
the opening, when a low moan reached his ear.
It was the voice of Kaala. She was lying near him in the darkness
on the slimy shore. Her limbs were bruised and lacerated with her
fruitless attempts to leave the cave, and she no longer possessed
the strength to repel the crabs and other loathsome creatures that
were drinking her blood and feeding upon her quivering flesh.
"It is the wailing of the wind, or perhaps of some demon of the sea
who makes this horrible place his home," thought Kaaialii.
He feared neither death nor its ministers; yet something like a
shudder possessed him as he held his breath and listened, but he
heard nothing but the thunder of the breakers against the cavern walls.
"Who speaks?" he exclaimed, advancing a pace or two back into the
darkness.
A feeble moan, almost at his feet, was the response.
Stooping and peering intently before him, he distinguished what seemed
to be the outlines of a human form. Approaching and bending over it,
he caught the murmur of his own name.
"It is Kaala! Kaaialii is here!" he cried, as he tenderly folded her
in his arms and bore her toward the opening. Seating himself in the
dim light, he pushed back the hair from her cold face, and sought
to revive her with caresses and words of endearment. She opened her
eyes, and, nestling closer to his breast, whispered to the ear that
was bent to her lips:
"I am dying, but I am happy, for you are here."
He sought to encourage her. He told her that he had come to save her;
that the gods, who loved her and would not let her die, had told
him where to find her; that he would take her to his home in Kohala,
and always love her as he loved her then.
She made no response. There was a sad smile upon her cold lips. He
placed his hand upon her heart, and found that it had ceased to
beat. She was dead, but he still held the precious burden in his arms;
and hour after hour he sat there on the gloomy shore of the cavern,
seeing only the pallid face of Kaala, and feeling only that he was
desolate.
At length he was aroused by the splashing of water within the cave. He
looked up, and Ua, the gentle and unselfish friend of Kaala, stood
before him, followed a moment after by Kamehameha. The method of
entering and leaving the cave was known to Keawe, and he imparted
the information to his sister. Ua first leaped into the whirlpool,
and the dauntless Kamehameha did not hesitate in following.
As the king approached, Kaaialii rose to his feet and stood sadly
before him. He uttered no word, but with bent head pointed to the
body of Kaala.
"I see," said the king, softly; "the poor girl is dead. She could
have no better burial-place. Come, Kaaialii, let us leave it."
Kaaialii did not move. It was the first time that he had ever hesitated
in obeying the orders of his chief.
"What! would you remain here?" said the king. "Would you throw your
life away for a girl? There are others as fair. Here is Ua; she shall
be your wife, and I will give you the valley of Palawai. Come, let us
leave here at once, lest some angry god close the entrance against us!"
"Great chief," replied Kaaialii, "you have always been kind and
generous to me, and never more so than now. But hear me. My life
and strength are gone. Kaala was my life, and she is dead. How can I
live without her? You are my chief. You have asked me to leave this
place and live. It is the first request of yours that I have ever
disobeyed. It shall be the last!"
Then seizing a stone, with a swift, strong blow he crushed in brow
and brain, and fell dead upon the body of Kaala.
A wail of anguish went up from Ua. Kamehameha spoke not, moved
not. Long he gazed upon the bodies before him; and his eye was
moist and his strong lip quivered as, turning away at last, he said:
"He loved her indeed!"
Wrapped in kapa, the bodies were laid side by side and left in the
cavern; and there to-day may be seen the bones of Kaala, the flower
of Lanai, and of Kaaialii, her knightly lover, by such as dare to
seek the passage to them through the whirlpool of Palikaholo.
Meles of the story of the tragedy were composed and chanted before
Kamehameha and his court at Kealia, and since then the cavern has
been known as Puhio-kaala, or "Spouting Cave of Kaala."
THE DESTRUCTION OF THE TEMPLES.
CHARACTERS.
Liholiho (Kamehameha II.), king of the Hawaiian Islands.
Keopuolani, the queen-mother,
Kaahumanu, chief counselor, and
Kalakua, widows of Kamehameha I.
Kalaimoku, prime minister.
Kekuaokalani, the defender of the gods.
Manono, wife of Kekuaokalani.
Hewahewa, high-priest of Hawaii.
Hoapili, guardian of the Princess Nahienaena.
Naihe, counselor and orator.
Kekuanaoa, treasurer of the king.
Kapihe, commander of the national vessels.
Laanui, a companion of the king.
THE DESTRUCTION OF THE TEMPLES.
THE LAST GREAT DEFENDER OF THE HAWAIIAN GODS.
I.
On the 1st of October, 1819, a fleet of four canoes bearing the royal
colors set sail from Kawaihae, in the district of Kohala, on the
northwestern coast of Hawaii. The canoes were large and commodious,
and were occupied by between sixty and seventy persons, a portion of
whom were females. The most of the men were large, muscular and over
six feet in height, while the dress and bearing of many of the women
indicated that they were of the tabu and chiefly classes.
The costumes of a number of those of both sexes who seemed to be
of rank were a strange admixture of native and foreign fabric and
fashion. American and European manufactures were beginning to find a
market in the islands, and the persons of many were adorned with rich
cloths, jewelry and other tokens of civilization. Their weapons and
utensils were largely of metal, and a squad of ten warriors armed with
muskets, in one of the canoes, showed that the white man's methods of
warfare had received the early and earnest attention of the Hawaiian
chiefs and leaders.
The canoe leading the little squadron was double, with covered
apartments extending into and across the united decks of both, and
the persons occupying it, with the exception of soldiers, sailors
and servants, were distinguished alike for their gaudy trappings
and a boisterous merriment infusing a feeling of jollity throughout
the fleet. In this canoe was Liholiho, who, on the death of his
distinguished father, Kamehameha I., something less than five months
before, had become sole monarch of the Hawaiian group. In addition
to two of his queens, he was accompanied by Kapihe, the commander of
the royal vessels; Kekuanaoa, the royal treasurer, and a retinue of
chiefly friends and personal attendants.
On the 8th of the previous May his royal father had died at Kailua,
leaving to Liholiho the kingdom his arms had won, with Kaahumanu as
second in authority and guardian of the realm. The morning following
the death of his father Liholiho left Kailua for Kohala to avoid
defilement, and there remained for ten days, when he returned to
Kailua and formally assumed the sceptre. At the end of the season
of mourning, for superstitious reasons the young king again left for
Kohala, and took up his residence for a time at Kawaihae. Remaining
there until the 1st of October, on the advice of Kaahumanu he had
started on his return to Kailua.
During the brief residence of Liholiho at Kawaihae, Kaahumanu
inaugurated a vigorous conspiracy against the priesthood, and resolved
to persuade the young king to repudiate the religion and tabus of his
fathers. In this scheme she was assisted by Keopuolani, the mother of
Liholiho; Kalaimoku, the prime minister, and Hewahewa, the high-priest,
who claimed descent from the renowned Paao.
In the latter part of the reign of the first Kamehameha the gods and
tabus of the priesthood began to lose something of their sanctity in
the estimation of the masses. Although the first Christian missionaries
to the islands did not arrive until nearly a year after the death of
Kamehameha I., many trading and war vessels had touched at Hawaiian
ports during the two preceding decades. No very clear idea of the
Christian religion had been imparted to the natives by the sailors
and traders with whom they had been brought in contact; but it could
not have escaped their observation that the foreigner's disregard of
the tabu brought with it no punishment, and they very naturally began
to question the divinity of a religious code limited in its scope to
the Hawaiian people.
The results of this growing scepticism were frequent violations of
the tabu. To check this seditious tendency summary punishments were
inflicted. A woman was put to death for entering the eating apartment
of her husband, and Jarvis relates that three men were sacrificed at
Kealakeakua, a short time before the death of Kamehameha--one of them
for putting on the maro of a chief, another for eating a forbidden
article, and the third for leaving a house that was tabu and entering
one that was not. Kamehameha had learned something of the religion of
the foreigners, but not enough to impress him greatly in its favor;
and when questioned concerning it during his last illness he replied
that he should die in the faith of his fathers, although he thought
it well that his successor should give the subject attention.
Different motives influenced the leaders in this conspiracy against
the religion and tabus of the group. Kaahumanu, the favorite wife
of Kamehameha I., but the mother of none of his children, was bold,
ambitious and unscrupulous. Left second in authority under the
young king, she chafed at the restraints imposed by the tabu upon
her sex. Many of the most palatable foods were denied her by custom,
and in her intercourse with foreigners acts of courtesy were chilled
and hampered by numerous and irksome tabu interdictions. To enable
her to eat and drink of whatever her appetites craved, and to do so
in the presence of males, Kaahumanu was prepared to strike at the
roots of a religious system which had maintained her ancestors in
place and power, even though she had no definite knowledge of the
new faith with which she hoped to supplant it.
Although the uncle of one of the wives of Liholiho--Kekauonohi--
Kalaimoku was not of distinguished rank. He was a chief of decided
ability, however, and had been by degrees advanced under the first
Kamehameha, until he became the prime minister of the second. Not
being a tabu chief by birth, he was easily persuaded by Kaahumanu
to lend his assistance in depriving those of higher rank of their
tabu prerogatives, and to this end he and his brother Boki were
baptized by the Roman Catholic chaplain of the French corvette
L'Uranie shortly after the assumption of the government by Liholiho.
This was done while the young king was residing at Kawaihae, and
without his knowledge.
Keopuolani, the political wife of Kamehameha I., and the mother of
Liholiho, Kauikeaouli and Nahienaena, was the daughter of Kiwalao,
and of supreme tabu rank. So well was this recognized that her
distinguished husband, it is related, always approached her with
his face to the earth. She lacked decision of character, however,
and her adhesion to the conspiracy against the tabu was doubtless
due to the influence over her of the crafty Kaahumanu.
Whatever may have been the motives of others, the apostasy of Hewahewa
seems to have been the result of conviction. Being the high-priest
of Hawaii, he had everything to lose and nothing to profit by the
destruction of the religious system of which he was the supreme
and honored head. Of an inquiring mind, the little knowledge he had
gained of the new creed had convinced him of the inconsistency of his
own, and when the time came to strike he acted boldly. His hand was
the first to apply the torch to the temples. Had he hesitated the
conspiracy would have failed, for the influence of the high-priest
with the masses at that time was second only to that of the king.
Liholiho was strong only in his attachments. Born in 1797, when the
group had been consolidated under one government and further wars
were not apprehended, he had not been given that austere and solid
training in civil and military life imparted to the princes of the
previous generation. He was attracted by the vices rather than the
virtues of the foreigners at intervals visiting the islands, and,
realizing that his future was secure, had devoted almost exclusively to
pleasure the ripening years of his youth. Light-hearted, affectionate
and gentle, he had shown so little taste for public affairs at the age
of twenty-two that his dying father, in bequeathing to him the sceptre,
deemed it prudent to accompany it with the condition that, should he
wield it unworthily, the supreme power should devolve upon Kaahumanu.
These were the prominent actors in the scheme for the destruction
of the priesthood, and this the character of the young king who had
been tarrying for some months at Kawaihae, and to whom a message had
been sent by Kaahumanu, informing him that, on his return to Kailua,
she would openly set the gods at defiance and declare against the
tabu. This information did not greatly astonish Liholiho. He knew
of the growing hostility to the tabu; had talked with Hewahewa on
the subject; had learned that his mother had failed to respect it on
late occasions, and had himself seen it violated without harm to the
offender. Yet he feared the consequences of an open declaration against
the priesthood. He remembered the fate of Hua, whose bones whitened
in the sun. He knew that his arrival at Kailua would precipitate the
crisis, and compel him either to renounce or defend the gods of his
fathers; and after leaving Kawaihae, as we have seen, with a party
occupying four canoes, he pursued his way very leisurely toward Kailua,
seemingly in no haste to reach his destination.
Moving southward, and passing the rocky point immediately north
of Puako, sail was shortened in the royal fleet, and the canoes
drifted slowly along the coast, taking just wind enough to hold
their course. Carousings were heard in the royal quarters. Liholiho
appeared, and, waving his hand to a group of men and women forward,
a wild hula dance was soon in progress, to the accompaniment of drums
and rattling calabashes. The king watched the dancers for some time
with a vacant air, and then began to mark the drum-beats with his
feet. The emphasis of the movement increased, until, dismissing his
dignity, his voice finally rose above the rude music, and he began to
dance with an enthusiasm which seemed to be almost frenzied. Others
of the royal party joined in the revelry, and for half an hour or
more the vessel was the scene of tumultuous merriment. Bottles and
calabashes of intoxicating liquors were then passed from one to another
of the companions of the king, and the hula was continued, followed by
chants, meles and other methods of enjoyment. Drinking was frequent,
and the humbler members of the party were sparingly supplied with gin,
whiskey and other stimulants. Similar scenes were transpiring in the
canoes following, and the debauch was the wildest ever witnessed on
any one of the eight Hawaiian seas.
"Let us make drunk the water-gods!" exclaimed the king. "Here, Kuula,
is a taste for you; and here, Ukanipo, is your share!" And he tossed
into the ocean two bottles of liquor.
"Let us hope the gods may not be angered by the unusual sacrifice,"
said Laanui, one of the favorite companions of the king. He spoke
seriously, and Liholiho's face wore a troubled expression for a moment
as he replied:
"Then you have not yet lost faith in the gods, Laanui?"
"No," was the prompt answer of Laanui.
The king did not continue the conversation. Turning and beckoning
to a servant, more liquor was brought, after which the revelry was
continued all through the day and far into the night. Meanwhile,
so little progress had been made that at noon the next day the fleet
was off Kiholo.
For another twenty-four hours the feasting, drinking and dancing
continued, when the revelers were met by a double canoe sent by
Kaahumanu from Kailua in search of the royal party. The messengers
of his chief counselor were courteously received by Liholiho, and,
hoisting all sail, he was escorted by them to Kailua, where he was
warmly welcomed by Kaahumanu and the members of the royal family.
Appearances of dissipation were plainly visible in the language and
bearing of the king, and Kaahumanu regarded the moment as auspicious
for committing him to some flagrant and public act of hostility to the
tabu. Both she and Keopuolani, the queen-mother, had been secretly
violating it, since the death of Kamehameha I., by eating of foods
interdicted to their sex, and to screen themselves from exposure it
was necessary that the religious system should be destroyed of which
the tabu was the vital force. This could be accomplished only through
the united efforts of the king and high-priest. Hewahewa was prepared
to do his part as the religious head of the kingdom, but the young
king, notwithstanding the pressure that had been brought to bear
upon him by Kaahumanu and a few of the leading chiefs of his court,
was still undecided.
A feast was prepared in honor of the king's return to Kailua. In
accordance with native custom, separate tables for the sexes were
spread, and a number of foreigners were present as the invited
guests of Kaahumanu. During the afternoon Liholiho, in response to
well-devised banters, had been induced to drink and smoke with the
female members of his family. This was a favorable beginning, and,
farther emboldened by his mother, who deliberately ate a banana in
his presence and drank the milk of a cocoanut, he declared that he
would openly set the tabu at defiance during the approaching feast.
It was feared that his courage would fail, and he was not left to
himself for a moment until he led the way to the feast. His step was
unsteady, and his face wore a troubled expression as he proceeded
to the pavilion, accompanied by Kaahumanu, Keopuolani and other
members of the royal household. As they separated to take seats at
their respective tables, the queen-mother gave Liholiho a look of
encouragement, and Kaahumanu said to him in a low tone:
"If you have the courage of your father, this will be a great day
for Hawaii."
The king made no reply, for at that moment his eyes fell upon wooden
images of Ku and Lono, on opposite sides of the entrance, and he
stepped briskly past them and seated himself at the head of one of
the tables. The sight of the idols almost unnerved him, and some of
the guests observed that his hand trembled as he raised to his lips
and drained a vessel of what seemed to be strong liquor.
The guests were all seated. Hewahewa rose, and, glancing at the
troubled face of the king, lifted his hands and said with firmness:
"One and all, may we eat in peace, and in our hearts give thanks to
the one and only god of all."
The words of the high-priest restored the sinking courage of
the king. He rose from his seat, deliberately walked to one of
the tables reserved for the women, and seated himself beside his
mother. During the strange proceeding not a word was spoken, not a
morsel touched. Some believed him to be intoxicated; others were sure
that he was insane. Since the age of Wakea no one had so defied the
gods and lived. Many natives rose from the tables, and horror took the
place of astonishment when Liholiho, encouraged by his mother, began
to freely partake of the food prepared for the women. Interdicted fish,
meats and fruits were then brought to the tables of the women by order
of the king, who ate from their plates and drank from their vessels.
Now satisfied that the king was acting deliberately and with the
approval of the most influential dignitaries of the kingdom, including
the supreme high-priest, a majority of the chiefs present promptly
followed the example of their sovereign, and an indescribable scene
ensued. "The tabu is broken! the tabu is broken!" passed from lip to
lip, swelling louder and louder as it went, until it reached beyond
the pavilion. There it was taken up in shouts by the multitude, and was
soon wafted on the winds to the remotest corners of Kona. Feasts were
at once provided, and men and women ate together indiscriminately. The
tabu foods of palace and temple were voraciously eaten by the masses,
and thousands of women for the first time learned the taste of flesh
and fruits which had tempted their mothers for centuries.
At the conclusion of the royal feast a still greater surprise
bewildered the people. "We have made a bold beginning," said Hewahewa
to the king, thus adroitly assuming a part of the responsibility;
"but the gods and heiaus cannot survive the death of the tabu."
"Then let them perish with it!" exclaimed Liholiho, now nerved to
desperation at what he had done. "If the gods can punish, we have
done too much already to hope for grace. They can but kill, and we
will test their powers by inviting the full measure of their wrath."
To this resolution the high-priest gave his ready assent, and orders
were issued at once for the destruction of the gods and temples
throughout the kingdom. Resigning his office, Hewahewa was the first to
apply the torch, and in the smoke of burning heiaus, images and other
sacred property, beginning on Hawaii and ending at Niihau, suddenly
passed away a religious system which for fifteen hundred years or
more had shaped the faith, commanded the respect and received the
profoundest reverence of the Hawaiian people. No creed was offered
by the iconoclasts in lieu of the system destroyed by royal edict,
and until the arrival of the first Christian missionaries, in March
of the year following, the people of the archipelago were left without
a shadow of religious restraint or guidance.
II.
While the abolition of the tabu system received the universal approval
of the masses, the destruction of the gods and temples met with very
considerable remonstrance and opposition. It was believed by many
that the priesthood might be preserved without the tabu, and that
the king had transcended his sovereign power in striking down both at
a single blow. Hence many gods were saved from the burning temples,
and thousands refused to relinquish the faith in which they had been
reared. Deprived of their occupations, the priests denounced the
destruction of the heiaus, and it was not long before a formidable
conspiracy against the government was organized on Hawaii, under
the leadership of Kekuaokalani, a chief of rare accomplishments and
a cousin of the king. Defection appeared at the court, and several
chiefs of distinction gave their support to the revolutionary movement.
However it may be regarded in the light of its results, on the part
of Kekuaokalani the rebellion was a brave and conscientious defence
of the religion of his fathers. He raised the standard of revolt
within a day's march of Kailua, and invited to its support all who
condemned the action of Liholiho in decreeing the destruction of
the national religion. He scorned all compromises and concessions,
and but for the firearms of the whites would doubtless have wrested
the sceptre from his royal cousin.
It has been asserted that Kekuaokalani was ambitious and availed
himself of the discontent created by the anti-religious decrees of
Liholiho as a possible means of seizing the reins of government. This
assumption is not sustained either by the words or acts of the
unfortunate chief. The ambassadors sent to him after the first skirmish
of the conflict reported that he declined all terms of peaceful
settlement. This, however, was not the case. What he demanded was that
Liholiho should withdraw his edicts against the priesthood, permit the
rebuilding of the temples, and dismiss Kalaimoku as prime minister and
Kaahumanu as chief counselor of the government. These conditions were
declined, and the ambassadors returned with the story that they had
offered to leave the question of religion entirely with the people,
but that Kekuaokalani would have nothing but war. A correct statement
of what occurred at the interview would doubtless have weakened the
royal cause, and was therefore withheld. After the resignation of
Hewahewa as high-priest the position devolved upon Kekuaokalani by
right of precedence, and, believing in the sanctity of his gods,
as a brave man he could not do less than take up arms in their defence.
No characters in Hawaiian history stand forth with a sadder prominence,
or add a richer tint to the vanishing chivalry of the race, than
Kekuaokalani and his courageous and devoted wife, Manono, the last
defenders in arms of the Hawaiian gods. They saw all that the light
around them presented, but the only gods known to them were those of
their fathers, and they died in a futile effort to protect them. They
were brave, noble and conscientious, and the cause in which they
perished cannot detract from the grandeur or dim the glory of the
sacrifice.
In the veins of Kekuaokalani ran the best blood both of Hawaii
and Oahu. He was a nephew of Kamehameha I., and his strain was
even superior in rank to that of his distinguished uncle. His
great-grandmother was Kamakaimoku, a princess of Oahu, who became the
wife of Kalaninuiamamao, one of the sons of Keawe, king of Hawaii,
and the mother of Kalaniopuu, grandfather of Keopuolani, mother
of Liholiho. One of the full sisters of Kalaniopuu was Manona, the
grandmother of Kekuaokalani.
One of the early wives of Kamehameha I. was Kalola, a chiefess of
Hawaii. She subsequently became the wife of Kekuamanoha, a younger
brother of Kahekili, king of Maui, and the mother of Manono, wife
of Kekuaokalani. As the mother of Manono was a daughter of Kumukoa,
one of the sons of Keawe, king of Hawaii, and her father was a prince
of Maui, she was not only of high rank, but was related in blood both
to her husband and the reigning family.
Kekuaokalani is referred to by tradition as one of the most imposing
chiefs of his day. He was more than six and a half feet in height,
perfect in form, handsome in feature and noble in bearing. Brave,
sagacious and magnetic, he possessed the requirements of a successful
military leader; but as war had practically ceased with the conquest of
the group by Kamehameha I., and he had little taste for the frivolities
of the court, where he might have worn out his life in honored
idleness, he turned his attention to the priesthood. Beginning at the
bottom, with patient application he passed through the intervening
degrees until he stood beside the high-priest, fully his equal in
learning, and more than his peer in devotion to his calling. He
mastered the chronological meles of the higher priesthood and the
esoteric lore and secret symbols of the temple, and with the death
of Hewahewa it was the universal expectation that the duties of
the high-priesthood would devolve upon him. In disposition he was
humane, charitable and unselfish, and, appreciating the nobility of
his character, his wife worshipped him almost as a god. In return he
bestowed upon her the full measure of his affection, and the waters
of their lives flowed peacefully on together until the grave engulfed
them both.
This was the character of the sturdy chief around whom the friends of
the dethroned gods of Hawaii began to rally. He counseled peace and
submission so long as he could find listeners among the disaffected,
but in the end he was forced into the revolt and became the leader
of the movement.
He was present at the royal feast at Kailua when Liholiho publicly
violated the tabu and decreed the destruction of the temples. He saw
Hewahewa, the venerable high-priest, who had been to an extent his
religious guide and instructor, cast the first brand upon the heiau
where they had so often worshipped together and sought the counsels
of the gods. At first all this seemed to be a horrible dream, but the
burning temples and frantic rejoicings of the populace soon convinced
him that it was a bewildering reality, and he threw himself to the
earth and prayed that his sight might be blasted, that he might
witness no farther the sacrilegious acts of the people.
"Liholiho's brain is on fire with strong drink, and he may be urged
to do anything," thought Kekuaokalani; "but Hewahewa--it must be that
he is insane, and it is my duty to speak with him."
He sought and found the high-priest, and learned to his great grief
that Hewahewa was not only sound in mind, but was in thorough accord
with the king in his determination to destroy the temples and repudiate
the priesthood.
"And you, a high-priest of the blood of Paao, advise this!" said
Kekuaokalani, bitterly.
"I advise it," was the calm reply of Hewahewa; "but I am no longer
the high-priest of Hawaii; the king has been so notified."
"Then here and now do I assume the vacant place," returned
Kekuaokalani, promptly.
"By whose appointment?" inquired Hewahewa.
"By the will of the outraged gods whose temples are turning to ashes
around us!" replied Kekuaokalani, with energy. "They will teach me my
duty, even should they fail to visit vengeance upon their betrayers!"
With these words Kekuaokalani turned and walked away. His heart was
filled with anguish, and the shouts of the people drove him almost to
despair. Reaching the pavilion, he lifted and placed upon his shoulder
the prostrate and mutilated image of Lono that had stood beside the
entrance, and with the precious burden strode gloomily and defiantly
past the palace and disappeared.
For a month or more nothing was heard of Kekuaokalani at the
court. Meantime, the work of destruction continued, and the smoke of
burning temples rose everywhere throughout the group. At length word
reached Kailua that some of the priesthood, sustained by a number
of influential chiefs, were inciting a revolt in South Kono. Little
attention was paid to the report until it was learned that Kekuaokalani
had accepted the leadership of the movement. This alarmed the court,
and a council of chiefs was called. Discussion developed the prevailing
opinion that the threatened uprising was merely a local disturbance
that could be quelled without difficulty, and Liholiho's apprehensions
were further relieved by the assurance of one of the chiefs that,
with the assistance of forty warriors, he would undertake to bring
Kekuaokalani a prisoner to Kailua within three days.
"Not with forty times forty!" said Hewahewa, earnestly. Better
than any one else he understood and appreciated the lofty
courage of Kekuaokalani, and was too generous to listen to its
disparagement without protest. "No, not with forty times forty!" he
continued. "Without Kekuaokalani the revolt will amount to nothing;
with him, it means war."
"Then war let it be, since he invites it!" exclaimed Kalaimoku.
"But may he not be persuaded to peace?" inquired the king, addressing
the question, apparently, to Hewahewa.
"Undoubtedly," replied the latter, "if we are prepared to accept
his conditions."
"What, think you, would be the conditions?" returned the king.
"The restoration of the tabu and the rebuilding of the temples,"
was the deliberate answer of Hewahewa.
The king was silent; but before the council dissolved it was understood
that a force would be sent against the rebels at once, and for a week
or more preparations for the campaign were in progress, under the
supervision of Kalaimoku. Everything at length being in readiness,
the royal army, numbering, it is presumed, not less than fifteen
hundred warriors, some of them bearing firearms, moved southward from
Kailua in the direction of Kaawaloa, where had been established the
rebel headquarters.
Having accepted the leadership of the rebellion, and regarding himself
as a champion selected by the gods for their defence, Kekuaokalani
vitalized the movement with an energy and enthusiasm which soon
brought the people to its support in large numbers, and the winter
solstice found him in command of an army large enough to inspire him
with a reasonable hope of success.
The five intercalated days between the winter solstice and the
beginning of the new year had from time immemorial been set apart as a
season of tabu, dedicated to festivities in honor of Lono, one of the
Hawaiian trinity. In the midst of the general religious demoralization
Kekuaokalani devoted to the season its customary observances--the
last yearly festival ever authoritatively given to Lono in the group.
The movements of the government were regularly and rapidly reported to
Kekuaokalani, and when the royal troops left Kailua he was prepared
to meet them. Through his efforts a heiau near Kaawaloa had escaped
destruction. Thither he repaired, and, offering sacrifices to the gods,
prayed that they would manifest their power by giving him victory.
He did not await the assault of the royal forces. Leaving Kaawaloa,
he attacked and defeated their advance not far north of that place,
throwing the entire army into confusion. Satisfied with the success,
he returned to Kaawaloa.
News of the repulse reaching Kailua, a consultation was called by the
king, and Kalaimoku urged the prompt advance of reinforcements by land
and sea, and an immediate and overwhelming attack upon the rebels at
Kaawaloa, rightly claiming that every day would add to the strength
of the insurgents under the inspiration of the slight victory they
had achieved.
This advice was accepted, and every available force was immediately
sent to the front, including a squadron of double canoes under the
command of Kaahumanu and Kalakua, one of them carrying a mounted
swivel in charge of a foreigner.
Uncertain as to the strength of the rebels, and by no means confident
of the results of a struggle which had opened in favor of his
enemies, Liholiho advised a resort to peaceful negotiations before
staking everything on the chances of battle. Hoapili, who stood in
the capacity of husband to the queen-mother, and Naihe, hereditary
national counselor and orator, were selected as ambassadors to confer
with Kekuaokalani, and Keopuolani volunteered to accompany them.
Reaching the camp of the insurgents, the ambassadors were graciously
received by Kekuaokalani, and used every means to effect an amicable
settlement of the difficulties that had brought two hostile armies
face to face; but nothing satisfactory could be accomplished. They were
not authorized to offer such terms as Kekuaokalani felt that he could
consistently accept, inasmuch as they failed to embrace either the
restoration of the tabu or the rebuilding of the temples. Naihe offered
to leave the question of religion optional with the insurgents. To
this proposal Kekuaokalani bitterly replied:
"You offer the scales of the fish after you have picked the bones. As
they are without temples, where would they worship? As they are without
altars, where would they sacrifice? As they are without the tabu,
what to them would be sacred and acceptable to the gods?"
"Then must we take back the word that Kekuaokalani will have nothing
but war?" said Keopuolani, sadly.
"No, honored mother of princes," replied Kekuaokalani, in a tone
so solemn and impressive that his listeners stood awed in his
presence. "Say, rather, that Kekuaokalani, the last high-priest,
it may be, of Hawaii, is prepared to die in defence of the gods
to whose service he has devoted his life. If they are omnipotent,
as he believes them to be, their temples will rise again; if not,
he is more than willing to hide his disappointment in the grave!"
Naihe was his uncle; Kamakaimoku was the great-grandmother both of
Keopuolani and himself, and the king was his cousin. As a condition of
peace he demanded the recall of the edicts against the tabu and the
temples. As this could not be conceded, the ambassadors appealed to
his relationship with themselves and the royal family; but he could
not be moved. "We are proud of our blood," he said to Keopuolani,
"but who but the gods made kings of our ancestors?"
Finding that nothing could be effected, the ambassadors withdrew with
tokens of mutual regret, and were safely and respectfully escorted
beyond the rebel lines. The reports they allowed to be circulated
on their return, that Kekuaokalani had refused to consider any terms
of peace, and that they had narrowly escaped with their lives, were
inventions employed to mislead and exasperate the royal army.
With the departure of the ambassadors Manono sought her husband to
learn the results of the conference. The information that no agreement
had been reached did not surprise her. For weeks past all the auguries
had indicated blood, and the night before the alae had screamed in
the palms behind her hut.
"Thank the gods for the omen!" said Kekuaokalani.
"But the voice of the alae is a presage of evil," suggested Manono.
"Only to those who do evil," replied the chief. "The fate of the gods,
whose battles we fight, is shaped by themselves."
"Have you no fear of the result?" inquired Manono.
"I fear nothing," was the reply; "but the thought has sometimes
come to me of late that the gods are reserving for Liholiho and his
advisers a punishment greater than I may be able to inflict. Should
that be so, I am obstructing with spears the path of their vengeance,
and will be sacrificed."
"The will of the gods be done!" said Manono, devoutly. "But, whatever
may be the fate of Kekuaokalani, Manono will share it."
"Brave Manono!" exclaimed the husband, with emotion. "If the gods so
will it we will die together!"
That night Kekuaokalani took up his line of march for Kailua,
determined to give battle to the royal forces wherever he might
encounter them. He moved near the coast, and the next morning the
hostile armies met at Kuamoo. Arranging his forces in order of battle,
Kekuaokalani sent to the front a number of newly-decorated gods in
the charge of priests, and, in turn addressing the several divisions,
conjured them in impassioned language to defend the gods of their
fathers.
Kalaimoku commanded the royal army in person. The battle opened in
favor of the rebels, and with them would have been the victory but
for the great superiority of the royalists in firearms. At a critical
juncture a battalion of musketeers, some of whom were foreigners,
charged the rebel centre, when the division gave way in something of
a panic, and soon the entire rebel forces were in retreat. Retiring
to the adjacent seaside, under cover of a stone wall they made a
successful resistance for some time; but the squadron of double
canoes already referred to, under the command of Kaahumanu and
Kalakua, enfiladed the position with musketry and a mounted swivel,
and the insurgents abandoned the unequal struggle, the most of them
scattering and seeking shelter in the neighboring hills.
Although wounded early in the action, Kekuaokalani gallantly kept
the field. Everywhere was his tall form seen moving throughout
the conflict, rallying and cheering his followers, while at his
side fought the brave Manono. He finally fell with a musket-ball
through his heart. With a wild scream of despair Manono sprang to
his assistance, and the next moment a bullet pierced her temple,
and she fell dead across the body of her dying husband. Kalaimoku
was the first to approach, and gazing long upon the noble features of
Kekuaokalani, grand even in death, turned to his followers and said:
"Truly, since the days of Keawe a grander Hawaiian has not lived!"
Thus died the last great defenders of the Hawaiian gods. They died
as nobly as they had lived, and were buried together where they fell
on the field of Kuamoo.
Small bodies of religious malcontents were subdued at Waimea and one
or two other points, but the hopes and struggles of the priesthood
virtually ended with the death of Kekuaokalani.
THE TOMB OF PUUPEHE.
CHARACTERS.
Makakehau, a chief of Lanai.
Puupehe, daughter of a chief of Maui.
THE TOMB OF PUUPEHE.
A LEGEND OF THE ISLAND OF LANAI.
Sailing along the lee-shore or southwest coast of Lanai, a huge block
of red lava, sixty feet in diameter and eighty or more feet in height,
is discerned standing out in the sea, and detached from the mainland
some fifty or sixty fathoms. The sides are precipitous, offering no
possible means of ascent, and against it the waves dash in fury, and
in the niches of its storm-worn angles the birds of ocean build their
nests. Observed from the overhanging bluff of the neighboring shore,
on the summit of the lonely column is seen a small enclosure formed
by a low but well-defined stone wall. This is known as "The tomb
of Puupehe"--the last resting-place of one of the most beautiful of
the daughters of Maui, whose body was buried there by her distracted
husband and lover, Makakehau, a warrior of Lanai. How the summit was
reached by the lover with his precious burden is a mystery, but the
wall is still there to show that the ascent was made in some manner,
and tradition assumes that it was through the agency of supernatural
forces.
Puupehe was the daughter of Uaua, a petty chief of Maui, and Makakehau
won her, it is related without detail, as the joint prize of love and
war. How this could have occurred it is difficult to imagine, since
Lanai was always a dependency of Maui in the past, and no direct wars
between the two islands are mentioned by tradition. It may therefore be
inferred that she was the spoil of some private predatory expedition,
and that the efforts of the young warrior to jealously seclude her
from the gaze of men were prompted not more by the infatuations of
her beauty than the fear that she might be recaptured.
However this may have been, they are described in the Kanikau, or
"Lamentation of Puupehe," as mutually captive to each other in the
bonds of love. The maiden was a sweet flower of Hawaiian beauty. Her
glossy brown and spotless body "shone like the clear sun rising out
of Heleakala." Her flowing hair, bound by wreaths of pikaki blossoms,
streamed forth as she ran "like the surf-crests scudding before the
wind," and the starry eyes of the daughter of Uaua so dazzled the
youthful brave that he was called Makakehau, or "Misty Eyes."
Fearing that the radiant beauty of his captive might cause her to be
coveted by some of the chiefs of the land, he said to her: "We love
each other well. Let us go to the clear waters of Kalulu. There we
will fish together for the kala and bonita, and there will I spear
the turtle. I will hide you, O light of my heart! in the cave of
Malauea. Or we will dwell together in the great ravine of Palawai,
where we will eat the young of the uwau, and bake them in the ti leaf
with the sweet pala root. The ohelo berries of the Kuahiwa will refresh
us, and we will drink of the cool waters of Maunalei. I will thatch a
hut in the thicket of Kaohai, and we will love on till the stars die."
The meles tell of their loves in the Pulou Ravine, where they caught
the bright iwi birds and scarlet apapani. How sweet were their joys
in the maia groves of Waiakeakua, where the lovers saw naught so
beautiful as themselves! But the misty eyes were soon to be made
dimmer by weeping, and dimmer till the drowning brine should shut
out their light for ever.
Makakehau left his love one day in the cave of Malauea, while he went
to the mountain to fill the huawai with sweet water. This cavern yawns
at the base of the cliff overlooking the rock of Puupehe. The sea
surges far within, but there is an inner space or chamber which the
expert swimmer can reach, and where Puupehe had often found seclusion,
and baked the honu, or sea-turtle, for her absent lover.
This was the season for the kona, the terrific storm that comes
up from the equator, and hurls the billows of ocean with increased
violence against the southern shores of the Hawaiian Islands.
Makakehau beheld from the rocky springs of Pulou the vanguard of an
approaching kona--scuds of rain and thick mist rushing with a howling
wind across the round valley of Palawai. He knew the storm would fill
the cave with a wild and sudden rush of waters, and destroy the life
of his beautiful Puupehe.
Every moment was precious. He flung aside his calabashes of water,
and at the top of his speed started down the mountain. With mighty and
rapid strides he crossed the great valley, where he met the coming
storm in its fury. Over the rim he dashed with an agonized heart,
and down the ragged slope of the kula to the shore, which the waves
were already lashing in a voice of thunder.
The sea was up, indeed! The yeasty foam of surging, wind-rent billows
whitened the cliffs, and the tempest chorussed the mad anthem of the
battling waves. Oh! where should Misty Eyes seek for his love in the
blinding storm?
A rushing mountain of sea fills the mouth of the cave of Malauea, and
the pent air within hurls back the invading torrent with a stubborn
roar, blowing outward great streams of spray. It is a savage war of
the elements--a battle of the forces of nature well calculated to
thrill with pleasure the hearts of strong men. But a lover looking
into the seething gulf of the whirlpool--what would be to him the
sublime conflict? what to see amid the boiling brine the upturned
face and tender body of the idol of his heart?
Others might agonize on the brink, but Misty Eyes sprang into the
dreadful caldron and snatched his lifeless love from the jaws of an
ocean grave.
The next day fishermen heard the lamentation of Makakehau, and the
women of the valley came down and wailed over Puupehe. They wrapped
her body in bright, new kapa, and covered it with garlands of fragrant
nauu. They prepared it for interment, and were about to place it in
the burial ground of Manele; but Makakehau prayed that he might be
left alone one night more with his lost love, and the request was
not refused.
When the women returned the morning following they found neither
corpse nor wailing lover. At length, looking toward the rock of
Puupehe, they discovered Makakehau at work on the lofty apex of
the lone sea-tower. The wondering people of the island watched
him with amazement from the neighboring cliffs, but, heedless of
their observation, he continued his labors. Some sailed around the
base of the column in their canoes, but could discover no means of
ascent. Every face of the rock was either perpendicular or overhanging.
The conviction then became general--since there seemed to be no other
possible explanation--that some sympathizing akua, or spirit, had
responded to the prayer of Makakehau, and assisted him in reaching
the summit of the tower with the body of his dead bride; and in this
form has tradition brought down the touching story.
Makakehau finished his labors. He laid his love in a grave prepared
by his own hands, placed the last stone upon it, and then stretched
out his arms and thus wailed for Puupehe:
"Where are you, O Puupehe?
Are you in the cave of Malauea?
Shall I bring you sweet water,
The water of the fountain?
Shall I bring the uwau,
The pala and ohelo?
Are you baking the honu?
And the red, sweet hala?
Shall I pound the kalo of Maui?
Shall we dip in the gourd together?
The bird and the fish are bitter,
And the mountain water is sour.
I shall drink it no more;
I shall drink with Aipuhi,
The great shark of Manele."
Ceasing his sad wail, Makakehau gazed for a moment upon the grave where
were buried the light and hope of his life, and then leaped from the
rock into the boiling surge at its base. His body was crushed in the
breakers. The witnesses of the sacrifice secured the mangled remains
of the dead lover, and interred them with respect in the kupapau
of Manele.
This is the story told by the old bards of Lanai of the lonely rock
of Puupehe, and the still inaccessible summit, with the marks of a
grave upon it, attests with reasonable certainty that: the mele has
something of a foundation in fact.
THE STORY OF LAIEIKAWAI.
CHARACTERS.
Laieikawai, the heroine, called also Ka wahine o ka liula,
"the lady of the twilight," daughter of a chief of Oahu.
Laielohelohe, twin-sister of Laieikawai.
Waka, their grandmother, a powerful sorceress.
Kapukaihaoa, a priest of Kukaniloko, Oahu.
Hulumaniani, a prophet of Kauai.
Aiwohikupua, a chief of Wailua, Kauai, of kupua or supernatural
birth, and from a foreign country.
Moanalihaikawaokele, Aiwohikupua's father and
Laukieleula, his mother, both mysterious beings, and inhabitants
of the Moon.
Kaonohiokala, brother of Aiwohikupua, and a demi-god living in
the Sun.
Maile-haiwale,
Maile-kaluhea,
Maile-laulii,
Maile-pakaha, and
Kahalaomapuana the youngest, sisters of Aiwohikupua.
Kekalukaluokewa, king of Kauai after Kauakahialii.
Hauailiki, a petty chief of Mana, Kauai.
Halaaniani, a petty chief of Puna, Hawaii, and
Malio, his sister, a sorceress.
Hinaikamalama, a chiefess of Hana, Maui.
Poliahu, a goddess of Mauna Kea, Hawaii.
Kihanuilulumoku, a gigantic moo, or lizard god.
THE STORY OF LAIEIKAWAI.
A SUPERNATURAL FOLK-LORE LEGEND OF THE FOURTEENTH CENTURY.
PREFATORY.
Early in the spring of 1885 a party of six or eight ladies and
gentlemen--the writer being of the number--made a carriage circuit
of the island of Oahu. Ample preparations for the little journey
had been made by the governor of the island, and the marshal of the
kingdom acted in the double capacity of guide and escort. A score of
attending natives accompanied the party on horseback, and a delightful
week or more was consumed in skirting the breezy beaches of Koolau,
in dalliance at Waialua, in visiting historic points of interest,
and in completing a journey of something less than one hundred miles.
Starting from Honolulu, the empty carriages were carefully lowered
down the steep, ragged and narrow Pali road leading to the valleys
below, and the first evening found us at rest by the beautiful
shores of Kaneohe. Entering the district of Koolauloa the next day,
and approaching the coast over a broad stretch of grassy meadow but
slightly above the level of the ocean, our party was suddenly brought
to a halt beside a pool of clear water, nearly round, and perhaps a
hundred feet in diameter. The surface of the pool was ten or twelve
feet below the level of the surrounding plain, and its even banks
of solid rock dropped almost perpendicularly into water of unknown
depth. The volume of the pool is affected neither by rain nor drought,
and the native belief is that it is fed by springs at the bottom,
and has a subterranean drainage to the ocean, some two or three
miles distant.
This, we learned, was the celebrated pond of Waiapuka, around which so
many strange legends have been woven. All of them speak of a cavern
somewhere beyond the walls of the pool, and to be reached only by
diving into the water and finding the narrow passage leading up
into it.
While listening to fragments of the story of Laieikawai and of
other legends connected with the mysterious cavern, and seriously
doubting the existence of the secret chamber so prominently referred
to in the early folk-lore of Oahu, an old native, who had joined the
party at Kaneohe, quietly and without a word dismounted, divested
himself of his upper garments and plunged into the pool. Swimming
to the northern wall, he clung for a moment to a slight projection,
and then disappeared. It was suggested for the first time that he
was in search of the cavern of Laieikawai, and all eyes were turned
toward the point where he was last seen above the water.
Three or four minutes elapsed, and fears for his safety began to be
exchanged, when the salutation of "aloha!" greeted us from the opposite
wall, and the next moment a pair of black eyes were seen glistening
through a small opening into the cavern, not before observed, about
four feet above the surface of the water.
The swimmer then returned to the pool by the passage through which
he had left it, and we were compelled to admit that the cavern of
Laieikawai was a reality, however wild and visionary may have been the
stories connected with it. Not a single person present, including the
governor, had ever before seen the passage to the cavern attempted,
and the natives were overjoyed at what they had witnessed.
To the many questions with which he was pressed the old man returned
but brief answers on his return, and when importuned to explain the
method of his entrance to the cavern, that the secret might not be
lost, he pointed significantly to the sea, and declared that there
would be found the bodies of those who sought to solve the mystery
of the passage and failed.
This rediscovery of the entrance to the cavern of Laieikawai created
a renewed interest in the legends associated with it, and thenceforth
during our journey many of the old stories were rehearsed. The most
interesting related to Laieikawai. It is a recklessly fanciful
recital, and gives expression to the extravagant conceits of the
early Hawaiian bards. Following is presented a condensation of the
legend of Laieikawai, as more elaborately told by Haleole.--Editor.
I.
The father of Laieikawai was Kahauokapaka, chief of the two Koolau
districts, comprising the entire windward side of the island of Oahu,
and her mother's name was Malaekahana. Soon after their marriage he
made a vow that if her children should prove to be girls they were
to be put to death, at least until a son should be born to them.
In accordance with this savage vow the first four of Malaekahana's
children, all being daughters, were slain without mercy. When her
time again drew near, by the advice of a priest she sent her husband
to the coast to bring her some ohua palemo, a small fish of which
she was exceedingly fond.
In his absence she was delivered of twin girls, who were named
Laieikawai and Laielohelohe. They were surpassingly beautiful
children, and, desirous of saving their lives, the mother consigned
the first-named to the care of Waka, the child's grandmother, and
the other to Kapukaihaoa, a priest of discretion and sanctity.
On the return of the husband he was told that the expected child
came into the world without life. He knew that a birth in his house
had occurred during his absence, for he had heard two distinct claps
of thunder.
Waka took her foster-child to the cavern which opens into the pond of
Waiapuka, and which can be entered only by diving. Laielohelohe was
taken by her priestly protector to the sacred enclosure of Kukaniloko,
on the western side of the island, and there tenderly cared for.
The moment Waka entered the cavern of Waiapuka with Laieikawai a
rainbow appeared over the place, and was constantly visible so long
as the child remained there. Even when the sun was obscured by clouds
the rainbow could be seen.
At length the rainbow was observed by the great prophet Hulumaniani
on the distant island of Kauai. For twenty days in succession he saw
it, and knew its significance. He secured a canoe and fifteen men
from Poloula, the chief of Wailua, provided himself with a black pig,
white fowl and red fish for sacrifice, and, when the star Sirius rose,
set sail for Oahu.
Reaching that island, he landed at Waianae, and, guided by the rainbow,
in due time arrived at the pool of Waiapuka. Waka had just dived
into the cave, and he noticed ripples on the water. During the day
Waka started to leave the cavern, but caught a glimpse of the prophet
sitting on the bank, and quickly returned, again ruffling the water.
The prophet remained by the pool all night, and in the morning saw a
rainbow over Kukaniloko. Traveling in that direction, he ascended Mount
Kaala, when he saw the rainbow over the island of Molokai. Finding a
canoe bound thither, he took passage and landed at Haleolono, near
the western shore.
In a dream Waka had been directed by Kapukaihaoa to remove Laieikawai
to some securer place, and had accordingly taken her to Malelewaa,
a secluded spot on the north side of Molokai.
Following the rainbow, the prophet arrived in the evening at Waikolu,
just below Malelewaa; but that night Waka was again advised in a
dream to remove at once to the island of Hawaii and dwell with her
ward at Paliuli. They departed at dawn, and at Keawanui met a man
getting his canoe ready to sail to Lanai, and engaged passage; but
before they could embark Laieikawai accidentally removed the veil
which Waka compelled her to wear, and the man was amazed at her beauty.
Instead of starting for Lanai, he invited Waka and her ward to remain
at his house until he could secure the services of another rower,
and then started around the island, proclaiming to every group of
people the great beauty of Laieikawai.
A great crowd had assembled at Kalaupapa to witness a boxing-match,
and there the man extolled the beauty of the girl in the presence of
the head chief and the prophet in search of her. Not doubting that the
girl described was the one he was in quest of, the prophet proceeded
to Kawela and saw the rainbow over Hawanui. That night he arrived at
Kaamola, the land adjoining, and went to rest, for he had journeyed
far and was weary.
Meanwhile Waka, again warned in a dream, obtained a canoe and sailed
across the channel to Lanai, landing at Maunalei. Three days of fog
and rain followed, and on the fourth the prophet saw the rainbow over
Maunalei. It did not remain there, however. Ten days later he discerned
something peculiar on the high peak of Haleakala, on the island of
Maui. He proceeded thither, but found nothing there but fog and rain.
He next journeyed to Kauwiki, a hill near Hana, and there erected a
small heiau, or temple, for the worship of his patron deity. After the
dedication, seeing nothing on Hawaii, and receiving no inspiration,
he remained for some time at Kauwiki.
At length, in the early days of the seventh month of the year, he saw
faintly with the rising of the sun a rainbow on the windward side of
Hawaii. At sunset on the third day of the next month he entered his
heiau and prayed fervently, and there appeared before him the wraiths
of Waka and Laieikawai. His patron god then informed him that the
persons whose shadows he had seen were living in the forest of Puna,
in a house thatched with the yellow feathers of the oo.
With this information the prophet set sail for Mahukona, on the
island of Hawaii. There he prayed in the temple of Pahauna, and was
directed to Waipio, where he offered sacrifices in the famous heiau of
Paakalana. He proceeded thence to Kaiwilahilahi, near Laupahoehoe,
where he remained for some years, unable to obtain any further
information of the persons of whom he was in search.
II.
It was during the sojourn of Hulumaniani, the prophet, at
Kaiwilahilahi, that Kauakahialii, king of Kauai, with his queen,
Kailikelauokekoa, returned from a wedding tour of the group. A great
assemblage of chiefs and commoners had met to welcome them home with
music, dancing and other festivities.
In relating his adventures the king referred to a meeting with
the mysterious princess of Paliuli, whose beauty, he declared,
was something more than human. The meeting occurred at Keaau, in
Puna. The kahu of the king first met the princess and her companion,
and, when requested by him to favor his royal master with a visit, the
princess informed him that she might possibly comply with his request
the night following. "If I come," she said, "I will give you warning."
"Now, listen and heed," she continued. "If you hear the voice of the
ao I am not in its notes, and when you hear the caw of the alala I
am not in its voice. When the notes of the elepaio are heard I am
getting ready to descend. When you hear the song of the apapane I
shall have come out of my house. Listen, then, and if you hear the
iiwipolena singing I am outside of your house. Come forth and meet me."
And so it came to pass. In the kihi, or first watch of the evening,
resounded the cry of the ao, in the second watch the caw of the
alala, at midnight the chirruping of the elepaio, in the pili of the
morning the song of the apapane, and at daybreak the voice of the
iiwipolena. Then a shadow fell on the door, "and we were enveloped,"
said the king, "in a thick fog, and when it cleared away the princess
was seen in her glorious beauty, borne on the wings of birds." The
name of the divine being, he said, was Laieikawai.
Among the chiefs who listened to this story of the king was
Aiwohikupua, chief of Wailua, who was of foreign birth. He had made
a vow that he would not marry a Hawaiian woman, and, expressing the
opinion that the princess described by the king was a daughter of
other lands, he resolved to make her his wife.
To this end he sought out the late kahu of the king and made
him his confidant and chief officer. They talked of little else
than Laieikawai. He had a vision of her in a dream, and drank awa
successively for many days, in the hope of inspiring a repetition
of the vision. He chanted a mele in praise of the unknown princess,
renewed his resolution to possess her, and then prepared to go to
Hawaii in search of her.
He fitted out two double canoes, with sixteen rowers and two steersmen,
and, when the augurs and soothsayers declared the omens favorable,
on the rising of Sirius he set sail for Hawaii. On his way thither he
stopped at many places, and at length arrived in the harbor of Haneoo,
in the district of Hana, Maui.
A number of surf-riders were amusing themselves on the beach, among
them Hinaikamalama, the famous chiefess of Hana. Aiwohikupua was
smitten with her charms, and accepted her invitation to join the
bathing party in their sports. In turn she became enamored of him,
and invited him to visit her house and play konane--a game resembling
draughts--with her.
When about to begin the game she asked him what he was willing to
wager on his success, and he pointed to one of his double canoes. She
declined the condition, and proposed, instead, that they should stake
their persons. To this he agreed, and, playing, lost the game. To
avoid paying the forfeit he declared that he had made a vow to give
himself in love to no woman until after he had made the circuit of
the island of Hawaii, and admonished her to remain faithful to him
while he was absent.
The chief and his party left Haneoo, and the next day arrived at
Kauhola, in the district of Kohala, Hawaii, where a boxing-match was
in progress. Aiwohikupua was challenged to a contest by Ihuanu, the
champion of Kohala. The challenge was accepted, and in the struggle
Ihuanu was killed.
They next landed at Paauhau, in Hamakua, to witness another
boxing-match. The local champion was Haunaka. He was invited to a
contest with Aiwohikupua, but, learning something of the prowess of
the chief, he declined the conflict. They then sailed for Laupahoehoe,
where the prophet Hulumaniani was still residing.
That evening the prophet was watching the clouds for omens, and
discerned in them that a chief's double canoe was approaching, bearing
nineteen men. The next morning he saw a mist on the sea, and prepared
his black pig, white fowl and bunch of awa. Then followed peals of
thunder, and Aiwohikupua's canoes came in sight, with the puloulou
insignia of a chief; whereupon the prophet offered sacrifices, and
prayed for the chief and himself.
Landing, the chief and prophet embraced, and spent the night together,
but Aiwohikupua did not disclose the real object of his voyage. They
then sailed for Makahanaloa, from which place could be seen the rainbow
over Paliuli. They landed at Keaau, where the people were surf-bathing.
In the evening Aiwohikupua left his men with the canoes, taking with
him only his confidant, the kahu, carrying a rich feather mantle as
a present to the lady of Paliuli. After a long and wearisome journey
through the thick jungle they heard the crowing of a cock, and soon
after came to a clearing, at the farther end of which was the house
of Laieikawai, all covered with the choice yellow feathers of the oo.
Aiwohikupua was amazed and humiliated. Said he: "I brought my royal
feather cloak as a present to her, and behold! it is not equal to the
thatch of her house!" Then turning to his kahu, he said: "I will stay
here no longer. Let us return."
In spite of the remonstrances of his companion, Aiwohikupua returned
to Keaau without seeing Laieikawai, and sailed at once for Kauai. They
did not stop to visit the prophet at Laulapahoehoe. When off the coast
of Hamakua they saw a woman of extraordinary beauty reclining on a
cliff by the shore. She was graceful in every movement, and wore a
snow-white mantle.
They landed and made her acquaintance. Her name was Poliahu, of Mauna
Kea. As usual, the chief began to talk to her at once of love. In
reply she asked him if he had not sworn by the names of his gods not
to marry a woman born on the Hawaiian group, and whether he had not
engaged himself to Hinaikamalama, of Hana. She informed him that,
like himself, she too was of kupua descent and possessed supernatural
powers. She promised to marry him, however, so soon as he could be
released from his oath and would return to claim her. She accompanied
them as far as Kohala, where she exchanged mantles with the chief in
pledge of their betrothal, and then took her departure.
Crossing the channel to Maui, the chief put into the harbor of Haneoo,
but did not land. Hinaikamalama hailed him from the shore, and demanded
the fulfilment of his promise; but he beguiled her by declaring that
he had not yet completed the circuit of Hawaii, having sailed only
along the windward side of it, and that bad news from home compelled
his immediate return to Kauai.
She believed him and was pacified. In the middle of the Oahu channel
he enjoined secrecy on his crew, and then hastened to Kauai, fully
determined to return to Hawaii and secure an audience with the princess
of Paliuli.
Reaching home, he informed his five sisters of what he had seen at
Paliuli, and they agreed to accompany him to Hawaii and assist him
in his suit with the beautiful Laieikawai.
The next day Aiwohikupua selected a fresh crew of fourteen rowers and
two pilots, who, with his sisters and confidential counselor, made
a party of twenty-three in all, and set sail for Hawaii. They were
detained a month at Honuaula, Maui, by stormy weather, but finally
reached Kaelehuluhulu, in the district of Kona, Hawaii. Poliahu saw
their canoes there, and was disappointed when they left for Hilo.
They arrived at Keaau, in Puna, about the middle of the day, and
Aiwohikupua made his arrangements and started inland at once with his
five sisters and trusted kahu. At midnight the party reached Paliuli.
The chief stationed his eldest sister, Maile-haiwale, at the door
of Laieikawai. She sent forth the delicate fragrance of the plant of
her name, which awoke Laieikawai.
"Waka! Waka!" exclaimed the princess.
"Here!" answered Waka. "What wakes you in the night?"
"A fragrance, a strange, cool fragrance, which goes to my heart,"
returned the girl.
"It is not a strange fragrance," said Waka. "It is certainly
Maile-haiwale, the sweet-scented sister of Aiwohikupua, who has come
to ask you to be his wife."
"Pshaw! I will not marry him," was the petulant response of Laieikawai.
Aiwohikupua heard her refusal, and was so thoroughly disheartened
that he proposed to abandon his sisters and return to Keaau, but his
trusty kahu intervened and advised another trial. So the next in age,
Maile-kaluhea, took a position by the door. Her fragrance was different
and more penetrating; but nearly the same exchange of words as before
occurred within the house.
The chief again proposed to leave, but the kahu insisted on trying
the powers of Maile-laulii; but no better success followed.
"Try again," said the counselor, "and if they all fail I myself will
undertake to persuade her."
So Maile-pakaha was sent to the door, but with no better result,
and, speaking loudly enough to be heard without, Laieikawai said:
"Whoever may come, I will not consent to marry Aiwohikupua."
Hearing this, and regarding any further attempt as useless, Aiwohikupua
ordered his sisters to remain behind in the woods as a punishment for
their failure, and started on his return to the coast. The youngest
sister, whose powers had not been tried, called after him and touched
his heart. He offered to take her and leave the rest behind, but she
would not consent to abandon her sisters. One of them chanted a mele
to soften his heart, but he remained obdurate.
He proceeded to the coast, the sisters following as best they could,
and when they saw him and his attendants seated in the canoes and
ready for departure, Maile-kaluhea chanted a touching mele; but he
heeded it not and put out to sea.
The sisters traveled by land and met Aiwohikupua as he was about to
go ashore at Punahoa, but he avoided them by again setting sail. They
then traveled overland to Honolii, where their brother had stopped for
supplies. They watched during the night, and when Aiwohikupua was about
to embark in the morning his sisters drew near, and Kahalaomapuana
chanted a pathetic song, and with so great effect that her brother
invited her into his canoe, placed her on his knee and wept over her.
Ordering his rowers to pull out to sea with his youngest sister, whom
he still held in his embrace, she begged him to return for the others,
and when he refused she chanted a farewell song, leaped overboard
and swam ashore.
The sisters then decided to return to Paliuli, scarcely knowing where
else to go on the island of Hawaii, where they were strangers. Arriving
there, they found shelter in a clump of hala trees near the house of
Laieikawai, the doors of which were kept continually closed. Failing
to attract the attention of the inmates, the sisters concluded to
keep a fire burning at night and to sing by turns--Maile-haiwale the
first night, Maile-kaluhea the second, and so on for four nights;
but no notice was taken of them.
On the fifth night it was the turn of the youngest sister to sing. She
lighted the fire, made a musical instrument of a ti leaf and played
upon it. She did this in the evening and morning watches for two
nights. Laieikawai had never heard the instrument before, and it
delighted her. So she sent her kahu, a hunchback, to first spy out
the musician, and then bring before her the person who was capable
of making such music.
Following the kahu, Kahalaomapuana found Laieikawai resting
on the wings of birds, with two iiwipolenas perched upon her
shoulders. She was kindly received, played before her, and told her
of her sisters. Touched by the recital, Laieikawai ordered a house
to be built for them, and formally adopted them as her companions
and guards. They were fed by birds and lived as in an enchanted bower.
On the return to Kauai of Aiwohikupua from his second voyage he had a
great feast prepared, and all the guests were made drunk on awa. Under
the influence of the liquor Aiwohikupua divulged the secret of his
mission to Hawaii, and told all about his unsuccessful efforts in
seeking to secure an interview with the princess of Paliuli.
Hauailiki, a handsome young chief of Mana, rose to his feet and
boasted that he could achieve without difficulty what Aiwohikupua
had failed to accomplish; whereupon the latter offered to furnish
him with a canoe and men to sail it if he would undertake to make
good his boast, and each made a wager of his lands on the result.
Hauailiki set sail for Hawaii the next day, and on his arrival at
Keaau was greatly admired for his manly beauty. The following morning a
dense fog enveloped the place, and when it cleared away he saw seven
women sitting by the seaside, one of whom was Laieikawai.
To attract her attention Hauailiki for four successive days
appeared before her in the surf, performing many difficult feats
of swimming and diving, but she gave him no heed. On the fifth day
he exhibited his skill in surf-swimming, and won applause from all
but Laieikawai. He then showed himself as a surf-swimmer without a
board. His skill was then recognized by Laieikawai, and she beckoned
him to approach, and threw around his neck a lei lehua, or garland of
lehua blossoms. Immediately the fog settled down, and when it cleared
Laieikawai and her party had left for Paliuli.
Hauailiki and his guide determined to follow the party at once, and,
traveling all night, they reached Paliuli in the morning. Approaching
the house, they were met by Maile-haiwale, the first sentinel, who
ordered them to retire. But they passed her by force, as they did the
second, third and fourth guards, until they met Kahalaomapuana near
the door of the house, resting on the wings of birds. She ordered
them back, threatening that the birds should pick their bones, and
they returned in haste to Keaau.
Undecided what course to pursue, Hauailiki dreamed of meeting
Laieikawai several nights in succession, and at last resolved to
visit Paliuli again and without an attendant. Reaching the spot,
he approached the house by a back path without encountering the
sentinels, and found Kahalaomapuana asleep at the door. He pushed
aside the feather curtain, entered the room, and found Laieikawai
asleep, resting on the wings of birds. He awoke her, and she ordered
him away. He pleaded with her and told her of his dreams, but she
insisted upon his departure. Kahalaomapuana then came to the assistance
of her mistress, and drove the importunate suitor back to Keaau.
Abandoning the undertaking as hopeless, Hauailiki returned to
Kauai. Arriving at Wailua, he was welcomed by a large gathering of
chiefs, and when he had told his story Aiwohikupua generously forgave
him his wager.
Rejoiced to learn that his sisters had become the attendants of
Laieikawai, Aiwohikupua resolved to revisit Paliuli. He assembled
a fleet of twenty double and thirty single canoes, forty peleleus
for his attendants, and a triple canoe for himself and counselor,
and set sail for Hawaii.
Waka knew of the arrival of the fleet at Keaau, and admonished
Laieikawai not to visit the coast. The sisters were put on guard,
and Kahalaomapuana summoned to their defence their terrible patron
god Kihanuilulumoku, a moo, or gigantic lizard.
The night following these preparations Aiwohikupua and his guide made
their appearance at Paliuli. Five tabu sticks, covered with white
kapa, had been set at intervals beyond the house; but the invaders
disregarded them and pushed on, until they encountered Maile-haiwale,
the first sentinel. She ordered them to retire, and sent a bird to
summon the rest of her sisters. The youngest came, borne on the wings
of birds, and drove her brother back, telling him that they were no
longer sisters of his.
Aiwohikupua returned to Keaau, resolved to secure by force what he had
been unable to effect by strategy. He therefore sent up to Paliuli a
detachment of ten warriors, but they were promptly slain by the lizard
god. After waiting for two days he sent another detachment of twenty
warriors, with a competent officer, and all of them shared the same
fate. He next sent forty men, and still other forties, until eight
forties in all had perished.
He next despatched his two swift messengers to inquire about the fate
of his warriors. They met a bird-catcher above Olaa, who told them
of the moo and his dreadful work. Presently they heard the roaring
of the wind and the crash of falling trees, and the monster appeared
in the path before them. They reassumed their bird forms, however,
and escaped by flying.
Aiwohikupua then summoned Kalahumoku, the man-eating dog from Kahiki,
to kill the moo and bring to him Laieikawai; and with the dog he sent
his two bird messengers, to bring him early tidings of the result.
As the two monsters met, a column of fog rose and drifted toward the
sea. This warned Aiwohikupua that the dog had been defeated. Late
in the day the animal returned, badly wounded and with ears and tail
missing, and the whole party set sail for Kauai.
Arriving home, Aiwohikupua thought of his engagement with the
beautiful Poliahu, and began to perform certain expiatory rites to
relieve himself of the oath he had taken not to marry a woman of the
Hawaiian Islands. He then sent his two bird messengers to Poliahu,
to inform her that he was preparing to fulfil his engagement.
By mistake the birds flew to Hana. They inquired for the betrothed of
the Kauai chief, and were directed to Hinaikamalama. They informed
her that three months were to be spent in preparation, and that
in the fourth month, in the night of kulu, Aiwohikupua would come
to claim his bride. These were the words they had been instructed
to speak to Poliahu, but by mistake they were told to another, who
joyously replied: "He remembers, then, the game of konane which we
played together."
On the return of the bird messengers the blunder was discovered,
and they were banished from the court. Then the koae, or tropic bird,
was sent to Poliahu with the same message with which the others had
been entrusted.
Aiwohikupua, relieved of his oath, waited until the 24th day of the
third month, and then set sail in great state, with forty double
and eighty single canoes, and twenty peleleus. On the 11th day of
the fourth month he arrived at Kawaihae, and despatched the koae to
inform Poliahu, who named Waiulaula as the place for the marriage.
To give brilliancy to the ceremony Aiwohikupua dressed his petty
chiefs, male and female, in feather cloaks, and many of his female
attendants in fine mats. He wore the white mantle given to him by
Poliahu, and a red feather helmet. His rowers were clad in fine
red kapas. On the platform of the chief's double canoe was raised
an anu, covered with yellow cloaks, and above it stood the tabu
puloulou. Around this canoe were ten others, carrying musicians
skilled in playing the hula drum and other instruments.
On the day of kulu the three great mountains were covered with snow,
which was the sign promised by Poliahu. On the arrival of Aiwohikupua
and his party at Waiulaula they were met by Poliahu, Lilinoe, Waiau
and Kahoupokane, the three latter being mountain goddesses. The men
suffered from cold but on being apprised of the fact Poliahu and her
friends removed their snow mantles, causing the snow on the mountains
to retire to its usual limits.
Aiwohikupua and Poliahu were then made man and wife. Feasting and
music followed, and the happy pair returned together to Kauai, making
their residence above Honopuwai.
In revenge for their dismissal the banished bird messengers informed
Hinaikamalama of the marriage of her betrothed. Angered at his perfidy,
she persuaded her parents to make a visit with her to Kauai.
There was a gathering of chiefs at Mana, Kauai, to celebrate the
nuptials of Hauailiki and Makaweli. The night was spent in games,
dancing and other pastimes. A game of kilu was in progress. At midnight
Hinaikamalama entered the kilu shed and sat down among the circle
of players. Observing her, Hauailiki requested the mea ume (drawer)
to tell Aiwohikupua to stop the hula kaeke and take part in the game
of kilu, in order to enable him to make her his prize. Accordingly,
when Hauailiki won at the game, the mea ume went around the circle
and threw the maile wreath over him. The wreath was then removed and
placed over the shoulders of Hinaikamalama. She rose to her feet and
requested permission to speak. She asked in whose honor the festival
was being given, and, on being informed of the occasion, requested
Hauailiki to delay the fulfilment of the ume, and then proceeded to
tell her story of the faithlessness of Aiwohikupua.
The story created a great sensation, and the conduct of Aiwohikupua was
universally condemned. Poliahu was enraged and returned to Mauna Kea,
and the chief agreed to fulfil his engagement with Hinaikamalama. The
night of their marriage Poliahu sent the chill of her snow mantle
upon her rival, and she was benumbed with cold. Her teeth chattered,
and it was with difficulty that she could be kept from freezing.
A second time, when she and Aiwohikupua came together, an intense
chill came over her. She was frightened, and inquired the cause. The
chief answered: "The cold is sent by your rival. Betake you at once
to a fire, that you may not perish."
The next day at noon they met, as had been previously arranged. Poliahu
put on her sun mantle, and a scorching heat almost consumed her
rival. Again they met, but were unable to remain together, and
Hinaikamalama unceremoniously left Kauai, without even touching noses
with Aiwohikupua.
Before she left for Maui, however, a kilu game was arranged at
Puuapapai, and Hauailiki, still mindful of his success at Mana,
endeavored to secure the fruits of his victory. But Hinaikamalama
refused to yield, unless the victor would come to Hana in proper
state and formally make her his wife.
During the game Poliahu and her companions appeared in glittering
robes of snow and chilled the assemblage, and the next morning they
returned to Mauna Kea, while Hinaikamalama set sail for Hana.
III.
The king and queen of Kauai both dying a short time after the events
just before recorded, they left the sovereignty of the island to their
son, Kekalukaluokewa. They also left in his charge a magical bamboo
(ohe) called Kanikawi, and enjoined upon him a promise to seek out
and marry Laieikawai, of whom many reports had reached Kauai.
The new king ordered an immense fleet of canoes for his trip to Hawaii,
and sailed in the month of Mahoemua, or August. At Makahanaloa he saw
the rainbow over Keaau, and sailed thither. Waka foresaw his coming and
advised Laieikawai to marry him and become the queen of a whole island.
After waiting four days Laieikawai and her kahu, the hunchback, went
down to Keaau, and watched the king and his two favorite companions
sporting in the surf. They knew the king by his not carrying his own
surf-board when he landed. She returned to Paliuli and informed Waka
that she would accept him for a husband.
Waka then arranged that Kekalukaluokewa should go at sunrise the next
morning and play in the surf alone; that a dense fog should settle
down, under cover of which Laieikawai would join him in the surf;
that when the fog raised the two would be seen by all riding in
together on the same roller, and then they were to touch noses. A
fog would again envelop them, and then birds would bear the pair to
Paliuli. She was forbidden to speak to any one after leaving the house.
Now, it appears that Halaaniani, a young man of Puna, noted for his
debaucheries, had often seen Laieikawai at Keaau, and ardently longed
to possess her. Learning that she was about to marry the king of Kauai,
he implored his sister, Malio, to exert her magical powers in his
behalf. She consented, and by her direction they both went to sleep,
and when they awoke related to each other their dreams. She dreamed
that she saw a bird building a nest and leaving it in the possession
of another, which was a sure omen in favor of Halaaniani. Malio
declared that her magic powers would prevail over those of Waka,
and gave her brother minute instructions, which he strictly observed,
as will appear.
They went to the beach and saw Kekalukaluokewa swimming alone in the
surf. Soon the fog of Waka settled down on the land. A clap of thunder
was heard as Laieikawai reached the surf. A second peal resounded,
invoked by Malio. The fog lifted, and three persons instead of two
were seen in the surf. This was noted with surprise on shore.
When the first roller came the king said, "Let us go ashore," and
he rode in on the breaker with Laieikawai, while Halaaniani remained
behind. At that moment the king and his companion touched noses. Three
times they rode in on the waves, while Halaaniani, as directed by
his sister, remained outside among the rollers.
The fourth time Laieikawai asked the king why he desired to repeat the
sport so often. "Because," said he, "I am not used to the short surf;
I prefer to ride on the long rollers." The fifth was to be the last
time for the Kauai king and his promised bride.
As soon as the two started for the shore Halaaniani seized Laieikawai
by the feet and held her back, so that the surf-board slipped from
her grasp, and Kekalukaluokewa was borne to the shore without her. She
complained of the loss of her surf-board, and it was restored to her.
Halaaniani persuaded her to swim farther out to sea with him, telling
her not to look back, as he would let her know when they reached his
surf. After swimming for some time she remonstrated, but he induced
her to continue on with him. At last he told her to look back.
"Why," said she, in amazement, "the land is out of sight, and Kumukahi,
the sea-god, has come to stir the waves!"
"This is the surf of which I told you," he replied; "we will wait
and go in on the third roller. Do not in any case let go of your
surf-board."
Then he prayed to his patron deity, and the breakers began to
rise. As the third came thundering on, he exclaimed, "Pae kaua!" and,
mounting the roller, they started for the shore. Laieikawai was in
the overhanging arch of the wave, and, looking up, saw Halaaniani
poised with great skill on the crest. At that moment she began to
yield to the seductive fascination of Halaaniani.
As they came in, Waka supposed her companion to be Kekalukaluokewa,
and she sent down the birds in the fog; and when it cleared away
Laieikawai and Halaaniani were occupants of the feather-house at
Paliuli, where their union was consummated.
Waka wondered why her granddaughter did not come to her that night or
the next day, as had been promised, and the day following she went
to the house to learn if anything serious had happened. Laieikawai
and her husband were sleeping soundly. Waka was enraged, for the man
was not the one she had selected.
Waking her granddaughter and pointing to the man, she exclaimed,
"Who is this?"
"Kekalukaluokewa," was the answer.
"No," returned Waka; "this is Halaaniani, the brother of Malio!"
Angered at the deception, Waka declared that she would deprive
Laieikawai of her powers and privileges, and desired never to behold
her face again.
Abandoning Laieikawai, Waka resolved to assume the charge of her
twin-sister, Laielohelohe, and wed her to the king of Kauai. She had
been left, it will be remembered, with the priest of Kukaniloko, on
the island of Oahu. To this end Waka had a new house erected, and,
borrowing a double canoe from Kekalukaluokewa, sailed at once for Oahu.
Arriving at Kukaniloko, she offered a pig as a propitiation, and
explained her errand to Kapukaihaoa, who approved her plans and
delivered Laielohelohe into her charge.
After an absence of thirty-three days Waka returned to Keaau with
the sister of Laieikawai. At her command the fog gathered, and they
were secretly borne by birds to their new house at Paliuli. Within
three days she had a consultation with Kekalukaluokewa in relation
to his marriage with Laielohelohe. She directed him to build a large
kilu shed, and there assemble the people of the district, that the
ceremony might be celebrated with becoming pomp.
Meanwhile, Halaaniani had seen Laielohelohe, and determined to secure
her for himself. With this object he persuaded Laieikawai to go down
to Keaau with him for a few days of sea-bathing, leaving her faithful
attendants behind. Arriving there, he told her that he was about to
visit his sister, Malio, and if he did not return in two days she
might consider him dead.
On the twelfth day the five sisters went down to Keaau and joined
their mistress in wailing over her husband, whom she believed to be
dead. Soon after they all had dreams of Halaaniani with another woman,
and concluded to cease their mourning and return to Paliuli.
Halaaniani visited his sister and induced her to assist him in his
designs concerning Laielohelohe. She advised him to watch her for
four days, and report his observations. He did so, and reported that
her chief occupation was stringing lehua flowers; and he climbed a
tree to observe her, while his sister sounded the pulai, or ti-leaf
trumpet, five times, and again five times; but Laielohelohe did not
take the slightest notice of it.
The next morning they went there again, and he climbed a tree with
a mass of lehua blossoms, and threw them down before her, while his
sister played the hano, a sweet-toned wind instrument. This attracted
the attention of Laielohelohe, and, without seeing the musician,
she expressed her thanks.
The morning following they repeated these manoeuvres three times. Then
Laielohelohe spoke and said: "If the musician is a woman, let us
touch noses."
With this Malio showed herself, and proposed that she should touch
noses with her brother first. This angered her, and she ordered both
of them to leave.
Malio admitted her failure, but promised to resort to supernatural
agencies, and win Laielohelohe for her brother on her wedding-day,
as had been done with Laieikawai.
About this time Waka went down to communicate to Kekalukaluokewa her
programme for the marriage ceremonies, fixed for the day following. He
was to order the people and his court to assemble at the appointed
place, and at noon was to retire to his own house. She would then
cover the land with a thick mist, and the singing of birds would be
heard; first the quack of the alae and the chirruping of ewaewaiki, on
hearing which he would step without the house. Next he would hear the
singing of the oo, which would indicate that she was about to send to
him Laielohelohe. Then would be heard the notes of the iiwipolena, and
his bride would be near him. Lastly, he would hear the singing of the
ka'huli, and they would meet apart from the assemblage, when thunder
would peal, the earth would quake, and the people would tremble. Then
the two would be borne upward by birds, the mist would clear away,
and they would be seen resting upon the birds in glory.
Laieikawai and the five sisters were anxious to witness the coming
display, of which they had heard, and Kahalaomapuana engaged the moo
god, Kihanuilulumoku, to convey them thither at the appointed time.
Malio assured her brother again that her power would prevail over the
efforts of Waka, and the preliminaries of the ceremony began. At noon
Kekalukaluokewa, dressed as became the occasion, entered his house,
as had been arranged. He heard the singing of birds, came forth in the
fog, and awaited the coming of his bride. A clap of thunder followed,
when the fog lifted, and Laielohelohe and Halaaniani were seen rising
in the air on the wings of birds. Laieikawai and her attendants
witnessed the ascension, sitting on the tongue of the great moo.
Believing that he had again lost his bride, Kekalukaluokewa sought
Waka, to chide her for the failure. "She is not his yet," said Waka,
"for she has obeyed my command not to speak to or touch noses with
him"; and, to reassure the king, she offered to stake her life that
all would yet be well.
As they approached the place of assembly Waka again enveloped it
in fog, and immediately sent Kekalukaluokewa upward in the air on
the wings of birds. When the fog cleared away, Kekalukaluokewa and
Laielohelohe were beheld sitting together, upborne by birds, and the
multitude shouted, "Hoao na 'lii! e!" ("the chiefs are married!")
When Waka heard these acclamations she appeared before the congregation
and denounced Laieikawai in the most opprobrious terms. The latter
departed in shame and rage, and was carried by the moo, together with
the five sisters, to Olaa, where she took up her residence.
Halaaniani's misdemeanors finally brought him into great contempt,
and he was despised and condemned by all. The Kauai king returned
home with his bride, taking with him Waka. On their way they stopped
at Oahu to take on board the priest Kapukaihaoa, who became the prime
minister of Kauai.
IV.
The sisters of Aiwohikupua, chagrined at what had befallen their
mistress, resolved to send Kahalaomapuana to Kealohilani, in a
far-distant land, to bring their brother, Kaonohiokala, to marry
Laieikawai, in order that she might triumph over Waka.
Accordingly, she started on her voyage, being carried by the gigantic
moo god, Kihanuilulumoku. Meantime, Laieikawai and her train made
a pleasure trip around Hawaii, first to Kau, then to Kona, and next
to Kohala.
Becoming discouraged, the old prophet of Kauai had left Kaiwilahilahi,
Hawaii, and started for his native island. Touching at Waimea, he saw
the well-known rainbow over Kaiopae, a half-hour's journey north of
Kawaihae, and followed it to Moolau, and then to Puakea, in Kohala,
where he finally met and conversed with Laieikawai.
He procured a double canoe for the party, and they sailed together
to Laie, Oahu, where he learned the history of Laieikawai. That night
his guardian deity informed him in a dream that she was the person he
had been seeking for so long, and directed him to take the party to
Haena, Kauai. In the morning he offered a pig and fowl before her,
and obtained her consent for him to become her guardian. They then
sailed for Kauai, and settled at Honopuwaiakua.
In one of his subsequent tours the prophet found, on arriving at
Wailua, that all the virgin daughters of the petty chiefs and courtiers
on Kauai had been collected there, in order that Aiwohikupua might
select two new wives to take the places of Poliahu and Hinaikamalama.
The prophet spoke so contemptuously of the girls brought there
for inspection, and boasted so loudly of the beauty and graces of
his adopted daughter, that a quarrel arose and he was thrown into
prison. He escaped during the night, however, and it was reported
to the chief that he was dead. He had left a banana trunk wrapped in
cloth, and it was offered on the altar of the heiau in the place of
his body.
At the moment when the deception was discovered the prophet made his
appearance on the platform of a double canoe at the mouth of the river,
with Laieikawai and the five sisters on board. Then Laieikawai stepped
upon the platform, surrounded with the insignia of a tabu chief,
and the winds ceased, the sea rose, thunders reverberated, lightnings
flashed, and the heiau and altar were shaken almost to ruins.
The assembled multitude shouted in admiration of the beauty of
Laieikawai, and Aiwohikupua, after recovering from the shock of what
he had witnessed, sent a herald to demand her in marriage. But the
prophet proudly answered that she was not for such as he, and would
marry no one of lower rank than the sovereign of an island. They then
returned to Honopuwaiakua.
We will now return to Kahalaomapuana, who was sent to a far-distant
land in search of her brother, in the hope of making him the husband
of Laieikawai. For four months the great moo swam with her in his
mouth, and they arrived at last at Kealohilani. But the guardian of
the place was absent on a visit to the Moon, and they awaited his
return for twenty days.
On his arrival he was greatly alarmed at the sight of the gigantic
reptile, lying with his head in the house and his tail in the sea,
and without a word flew to Nuumealani to consult Kaeloikamalama,
the powerful kupua, who shut the door of the pea kapu of the Kukulu
o Kahiki, where Kaonohiokala was concealed.
They returned together, the kupua armed with a laau palau a hundred
paces long with which to slay the moo. Just as he was preparing to
strike, the moo stirred his tail in the ocean and sent a tremendous
breaker rolling inland, and they both started to retreat. At that
moment the moo cast out Kahalaomapuana on the neck of her uncle,
Kaeloikamalama. He asked her who she was and the object of her visit,
which she explained, and also their relationship. Then both embraced
her affectionately, for they were brothers of her mother.
In furtherance of the purposes of her visit, Kaeloikamalama took
his niece with him on a ten days' journey to the place of ascent,
where he called upon Lanalananuiaimakua to let down the ladder. Before
long a sort of spider's web, branching through the air, descended. He
then gave his niece full directions, as follows: "Here is your way
to ascend until you see a single house standing in the Moon, in the
land of Kahakaekaea, where dwells Moanalihaikawaokele, your father, an
old man with long hair and bent head. If he is awake do not approach
him, lest he see you first, and you die before you have a chance to
speak. Wait until he is asleep on his back; then cautiously approach
from the leeward, spring on his breast, grasp him tightly by the beard,
and chant the mele in which I will instruct you." Instructing her in
the mele, he continued: "Explain to him the object of your visit,
and all will be well." She was about to begin the ascent when he
imparted this final information: "In ascending, if fine rain falls
and you are chilly, fear not; it is caused by your father. Climb on,
and, should you smell fragrance, know that it is caused by your mother
and that you are approaching the end of your journey. If the sunbeams
pierce you and the heat beats upon your head, do not fear. Persevere,
and you will enter the shelter of the Moon and be safe in Kahakaekaea."
With these instructions she boldly began the ascent. Climbing upward
without ceasing, toward evening she encountered fine rain and mist;
early next morning she smelt the fragrance of the shrub kiele; at
midday she suffered from the heat of the sun, and in the evening
entered the cool shade of the Moon, in the land of Kahakaekaea.
Observing a large house standing alone, she proceeded to the lee side,
and waited until the old man fell asleep on his back. She then grasped
his beard and chanted the mele, as instructed by her uncle. He awoke,
but she held him where lay his strength, and his struggles were
vain. He asked her who she was, and about her relatives, and her
answers were satisfactory. She then let go his beard and he took her
on his knee and wailed over her.
He then inquired the object of her visit, and she related the whole
story. He informed her that it was not within his power to grant her
request, and that she must apply to her mother, who lived with her
son, Kaonohiokala, in a sacred, inaccessible place, and only visited
Kahakaekaea once every month.
By stratagem she obtained an interview with her mother, Laukieleula,
and after great persuasion secured her assistance in advancing the
purposes of her visit. The old woman then summoned the bird-god,
Haluluikekihiokamalama, to take them up into the pea kapu of the
Kukulu o Kahiki. The bird reached down a wing, upon which they both
mounted and were carried to Awakea (noon), the god who opens the gate
of the Sun, where dwelt Kaonohiokala (the eye-ball of the sun).
They found the place shut in by thunder-clouds. They called upon
Awakea, who rose with intense heat and dispersed the clouds, disclosing
to their view the prince asleep in the very centre of the Sun, where
the air was white with heat. He awoke. His eyes were like lightning,
and his body gleamed like molten lava.
Laukieleula called to him and said: "Your favorite sister is here." He
looked up, and then summoned the guardians of the shade to appear and
stand before him. This they promptly did, and the heat of the sun was
mitigated. His resting-place being thus shaded, he called his sister
to him and wailed over her, for they had been separated for a long
time. He inquired the object of her visit, and about their sisters, and
brother Aiwohikupua, and was interested in all that related to them.
Through the advice of his mother he consented to descend and marry
Laieikawai, and the signs of his coming, he explained, would be as
follows: First, there would be a heavy rain and high surf before he
started. Next, there would be strong wind for ten days, followed
by thunder without rain; then he would be in Kahakaekaea. When it
thundered again twice he would be at Nuumealani, and when it thundered
thrice he would be in Kealohilani. There he would lay aside his tabu
supernatural form and assume the human shape as a high chief. After
this there would be many portents, such as thunder, lightning, rain,
fog, rainbows, high seas and mist on the ocean, and in one month
thereafter he would appear on the mountain ridge at dawn. When the
sun rose a halo would surround him, and in the evening, when the
full moon rose in the night of Mahealani, he would appear and marry
Laieikawai. After this he would punish the enemies of his sisters
and his bride. As a token he gave to his sister for Laieikawai a
rainbow-robe.
Kahalaomapuana was a month in returning to Kealohilani, where she
found the moo in waiting for her. He swam with her across the great
waters to Hawaii, but, not finding their friends at Olaa, he hunted
all through the islands, like a dog scenting for his master, until
he found them at Honopuwaiakua, Kauai. The whole trip occupied eleven
months and fourteen days.
Kahalaomapuana gave her friends a full history of her extraordinary
journey, to the dismay of Laieikawai, who was awed at the thought of
her intended husband. The prophet, who knew nothing of the mission of
the sister until her return, had predicted the coming of Kaonohiokala a
month before; and now he traveled around the island warning the people,
and advising Aiwohikupua, in particular, to set up tabu flags all
around his place and collect his family within the precinct; but he
was repelled with insult. He gave the same advice to Kekalukaluokewa,
who obeyed it in spite of the opposition of Waka.
Ten days after the return of Kahalaomapuana the portents began
to appear in the order already named, and in due time Kaonohiokala
appeared, surrounded by a halo. Shouts of acclamation and homage were
heard throughout the island, and Laieikawai put on her rainbow robe.
In the evening, as the full moon rose, the prince descended from
the mountain and came within the circle of the prophet, and they
all prostrated themselves before him. He spoke graciously to them,
and told Laieikawai that he had come to make good the promise made
to her through his sister. Then all shouted, "Amana! ua noa, lele
wale aku la!"
A rainbow appeared, and on it the prince and his bride were suddenly
drawn upward to the moon. A few nights after, as the moon was
directly overhead, a rainbow was let down like a ladder, on which they
descended. Summoning the prophet, the prince directed him to travel
around the island and make proclamation for all to assemble at the
end of ten days at Pihanakalani. The five sisters, and afterwards
the prophet, were taken up to dwell in the coolness of the moon.
One morning the assemblage at Pihanakalani saw the rainbow again let
down from the moon, and standing upon it were the prince and his bride,
the five sisters and the prophet.
Vengeance was executed upon Waka, who was killed by a thunderbolt, and
upon Aiwohikupua, who was reduced to poverty and contempt. Laielohelohe
and Kekalukaluokewa were retained in favor under Kahalaomapuana, who
was designated as the regent of her brother, and the four other sisters
were made the governesses of the rest of the islands of the group.
The affairs of state being thus summarily settled, Kaonohiokala again
departed with his bride up the rainbow beyond the clouds, to dwell
in the pea kapu o Kukulu o Kahiki, above the land called Kahakaekaea.
V.
Kaonohiokala made quarterly visits to his earthly dominions, to see
that all went well with their rulers. Laielohelohe had grown more
beautiful than her sister, and he became enamored of her.
To promote his designs he made Kahalaomapuana joint regent with
Mokukelekahiki in Kealohilani, and appointed Kekalukaluokewa to the
regency of the entire group. He then requested the regent to make a
tour of the islands, leaving Laielohelohe at Pihanakalani. He next
applied to her guardian, Kapukaihaoa, and gained his consent to aid
in her seduction.
After Kaonohiokala had made two more trips to earth in furtherance of
this intrigue, Laielohelohe resolved to seek her husband, and set sail,
accordingly, for the windward islands. She found him at Honokalani,
Maui, engaged in an amour with Hinaikamalama, the Hana chiefess who
had abandoned Aiwohikupua. After unavailing efforts to reclaim him
she returned to Kauai.
Kaonohiokala then renewed his visits, and at last remained a year
with the deserted wife. The forsaken Laieikawai appealed to her
father-in-law, who directed her to go to the tabu heiau when old
Laukieleula was asleep, and consult the bowl of knowledge. It was
a wooden bowl, covered with wicker-work, the edge of the lid being
decorated with feathers, and with carved images of birds standing
on the rim. She was to remove the lid, insert her face in the bowl,
and call "Laukapalili!" to give her the knowledge she required.
She followed these directions and saw what her husband was doing on
earth. His father and mother also looked, and observed for themselves
the treachery of their son. Straightway the ladder was let down to
the presence of Kaonohiokala. The sky was darkened and filled with
uncanny forms, and ghastly voices wailed through the air, "Ua haule
ka lani!"--"the heaven has fallen!"
Then the three were seen standing together upon the rainbow ladder, and
Moanalihaikawaokele proceeded to pronounce judgment on Kaonohiokala. He
was never to return to the upper world, and was doomed to become a
lapu--a spectre or wandering ghost--and live on butterflies.
Kahalaomapuana took his place in the sun. Laieikawai, at her earnest
request, was restored to earth to live with her sister, and the
government of the group was entrusted to the prophet.
Laieikawai had her name changed to Ka wahine o ka liula--"the lady
of the twilight"--under which title she was worshipped by certain
families after her death.
LOHIAU, THE LOVER OF A GODDESS.
CHARACTERS.
Pele, the goddess of the volcanoes.
Hiiaka, one of the sisters of Pele.
Hopoe, a friend of Hiiaka.
Pauo-palae and
Omeo, travelling companions of Hiiaka.
Lonoikaonolii, one of the brothers of Pele.
Lohiau, a prince of Kauai.
Paoa, a chief of Kauai.
Milu, king of the regions of death.
Kanemilohai, a god from Kahiki.
Kalamainu and
Kileoa, female demons of Kauai.
Olepau, king of Maui.
Waihimano, queen of Maui.
LOHIAU, THE LOVER OF A GODDESS.
THE LEGEND OF HIIAKA, THE IMMORTAL, AND THE PRINCE OF KAUAI.
I.
Of all the legends of the adventures with mortals of Pele, the dreadful
goddess of the volcanoes, the most weird and dramatic is the one
relating to her love for Lohiau, a prince of the island of Kauai,
whose reign was probably contemporaneous with that of Kealiiokaloa,
of Hawaii, during the early part of the sixteenth century. The story
is not only a characteristic relic of the recklessly imaginative and
highly-colored meles of the early poets, but an instructive reflex as
well of the superstitions controlling the popular mind of the Hawaiian
group at that period, when the forests abounded in mischievous gnomes
and fairies, when the streams were guarded by nymphs and monsters, and
when the very air was peopled with the spirits of the departed. But
a thin veil then divided the living from the dead, the natural from
the supernatural, and mortals were made the sport of the elements
and the playthings of the gods.
As the mele relates, Pele and her brothers and sisters, to amuse
themselves with a taste of mortal enjoyments, one day emerged from
their fiery chambers in the crater of Kilauea, and went down to the
coast of Puna to bathe, surf-ride, sport in the sands, and gather
edible sea-weed, squid, limpets and other delicacies washed by the
waves. They assumed human forms for the occasion, and therefore had
human appetites.
While the others were amusing themselves in various ways--eating,
laughing and sporting in the waves in the manner of mortals--Pele,
in the guise of an old woman, sought repose and sleep in the shade
of a hala tree. Her favorite sister was Hiiaka, her full name being
Hiiaka-ika-pali-opele. She was younger than Pele, and frequently
occupied the same grotto with her under the burning lake of Kilauea.
Hiiaka accompanied her sovereign sister to the shade of the hala tree,
and, sitting devotedly beside her, kept her cool with a kahili. Her
eyelids growing heavy, Pele instructed Hiiaka to allow her under no
circumstances to be disturbed, no matter how long she might sleep,
whether for hours or days, and then closed her eyes in slumber.
Scarcely had the ears of the sleeper been closed by the fingers of
silence before she heard the sound of a drum--distant, but distinct
and regular in its beat, as if to the impulse of music. Before leaving
the crater she had heard the same sound, but paid little attention
to it. Now, however, when hearing it in her dreams, her curiosity was
aroused, and, assuming her spiritual form, she resolved to follow it.
Leaving her slumbering earthly body under the eye and care of her
sister, Pele mounted the air and proceeded in the direction whence
the sound seemed to come. From place to place she followed it over
the island of Hawaii; but it was always before her, and she could
not overtake it. At Upolu it came to her from over the sea, and she
followed it to the island of Maui. It was still beyond, and she sped
to Molokai; still beyond, and she flew to Oahu; still beyond, and
she crossed the channel and listened on the shores of Kauai, where
it was more distinct than she had heard it before. Now encouraged,
she continued the pursuit until she stood upon the mountain peak of
Haupu, when she discovered at last that the sound came from the beach
at Kaena.
Proceeding thither, and hovering over the place unseen, she observed
that the sound she had so long been following was that of a pahu-hula,
or hula drum, beaten by Lohiau, the young and comely prince of Kauai,
who was noted not only for the splendor of his hula entertainments,
participated in by the most beautiful women of the island, but for his
personal graces as a dancer and musician. The favorite deity of Lohiau
was Lakakane, the god of the hula and similar sports, who in a spirit
of mischief had conveyed the sound of the drum to the ears of Pele.
The beach was thronged with dancers, musicians and spectators,
all enjoying themselves under the shade of the hala and cocoa
trees, with the prince as master of ceremonies and the centre of
attraction. Assuming the form of a beautiful woman, Pele suddenly
appeared before the festive throng. Attaching to her person every
imaginable charm of form and feature, her presence was immediately
noted; and, a way being opened for her to the prince, he received her
most graciously and invited her to a seat near him, where she could
best witness the entertainment.
Glancing at the beautiful stranger from time to time in the midst
of his performances, Lohiau at length became so fascinated that
he failed to follow the music, when he yielded the instrument to
another and seated himself beside the enchantress. In answer to his
inquiry she informed the prince that she was a stranger in Kauai,
and had come from the direction of the rising sun. Gazing into her
face with a devouring passion, Lohiau smilingly said:
"You are most welcome, but I cannot rejoice that you came."
"And why, since I do not come as your enemy?" inquired Pele, archly.
"Because, until now," returned the prince, "my thought has been that
there were beautiful women in Kauai; but in looking at yours I find
their faces are plain indeed."
"I see you know how to speak flattering words to women," said Pele,
casting a languishing look upon the prince.
"Not better than I know how to love them," replied Lohiau, with
ardor. "Will you be convinced?"
"Lohiau is in his own kingdom, and has but to command," answered Pele,
with a play of modesty which completed the enthralment of the prince.
Thus Pele became the wife of Lohiau. He knew nothing of her or her
family, and cared not to inquire. He saw only that she was beautiful
above all women, and for a few days they lived so happily together
that life seemed to be a dream to him. And Pele loved the prince
scarcely less than he loved her; but the time had come for her return
to Hawaii, and, pledging him to remain true to her, she left him with
protestations of affection and the promise of a speedy return, and
on the wings of the wind was wafted back to the shores of Puna, where
she had left her sister waiting and watching in the shade of the hala.
Lohiau was inconsolable. Every day he thought she would be with him the
next, until more than a month passed, when he refused food and died
of grief at her absence. The strange death of the prince occasioned
much comment, for he was naturally strong and without disease. Some
said he had been prayed to death by his enemies, and others that he
had been poisoned; but an old kaula, who had seen Pele at Kaena and
noted her actions, advised against further inquiry concerning the
cause of Lohiau's death, offering as a reason the opinion that the
strangely beautiful and unknown woman he had taken as a wife was an
immortal, who had become attached to her earthly husband and called
his spirit to her.
The prince was greatly beloved by his people, and his body, carefully
wrapped in many folds of kapa, was kept in state for some time in the
royal mansion. It was guarded by the high chiefs of the kingdom, and
every night funeral hymns were chanted around it, and meles recited of
the deeds of the dead sovereign and his ancestors. Thus lying in state
we will leave the remains of Lohiau, and follow Pele back to Hawaii.
II.
During all the time the spirit of Pele was absent the family kept watch
over the body left by her under the hala tree, not daring to disturb
it, and were overjoyed when it was at last reanimated, for the fires
of the crater of Kilauea had nearly died out from neglect. Pele rose
to her feet in the form of the old woman she had left asleep under the
care of Hiiaka, and, without at the time mentioning her adventures in
Kauai or the cause of her protracted slumber, returned with all but one
of the family to Kilauea, and with a breath renewed the dying fires
of the crater. Hiiaka asked and received the permission of Pele to
remain for a few days at the beach with her much-loved friend Hopoe,
a young woman of Puna, who had been left an orphan by an irruption
from Kilauea, in which both of her parents had perished.
On leaving Kauai it is probable that Pele, notwithstanding her fervent
words to the contrary, never expected or particularly desired to
see Lohiau again; but he had so endeared himself to her during their
brief union that she did not find it easy to forget him, and, after
struggling with the feeling for some time, she resolved to send for
him. But to whom should she entrust the important mission? One after
another she applied to her sisters at the crater, but the way was
beset with evil spirits, and they refused to go.
In this dilemma Pele sent her favorite brother, Lonoikaonolii, to
bring Hiiaka from the beach, well knowing that she would not refuse to
undertake the journey, however hazardous. Hiiaka accepted the mission,
with the understanding that during her absence her friend Hopoe should
be kept under the eye and guardianship of Pele.
Arrangements were made for the immediate departure of Hiiaka. Pele
conferred upon her some of her own powers, with an injunction to use
them discreetly, and for a companion and servant gave her Pauo-palae,
a woman of approved sagacity and prudence.
With a farewell from her relatives and many an admonition from Pele,
Hiiaka took her departure for Kauai, accompanied by Pauo-palae. They
traveled as mortals, and were therefore subject to the fatigues
and perils of humanity. Proceeding through the forests toward the
coast of Hilo, they encountered an old woman, who accosted them
politely and expressed a desire to follow them. Her name was Omeo,
and she was leading a hog to the volcano as a sacrifice to Pele. No
objection being made, she hurried to the crater with her offering,
and returned and followed Hiiaka and her companion.
Not long after, their journey was impeded by a demon of hideous
proportions, who threw himself across their path in a narrow defile and
attempted to destroy them. Pele knew their danger, however, and ordered
her brothers to protect them with a rain of fire and thunder, which
drove the monster to his den in the hills and enabled them to escape.
After a little time they were joined by another woman, whose name was
Papau. She desired to accompany them, and proceeded a short distance
on the way, when they were confronted by a ferocious-looking man who
was either insane or under the influence of evil spirits. He lacked
either the power or the disposition to molest the party, however,
and they passed on unharmed; but Papau screamed with fright and
hastily returned to her home, where she was turned into a stone as
a punishment for her cowardice.
Coming to a small stream crossed by their path, they found the waters
dammed by a huge moo, or lizard, lying in the bed. He was more than
a hundred paces in length, and his eyes were of the size of great
calabashes. He glared at the party viciously and opened his mouth as
if to devour them; but Hiiaka tossed into it a stone, which became
red-hot when it touched his throat, and, with a roar of pain which
made the leaves of the trees tremble, he disappeared down the stream.
After many other adventures with monsters and evil spirits, which
Hiiaka was able to control and sometimes punish, the party reached
the coast at a place called Honoipo, where they found a number of men
and women engaged in the sport of surf-riding. As they were about
to start for another trial, in a spirit of mischief Hiiaka turned
their surf-boards into stone, and they fled in terror from the beach,
fearing that some sea-god was preparing to devour them.
Observing a fisherman drawing in his line, Hiiaka caused to be fastened
to the submerged hook a human head. Raising it to the surface, the
man stared at it for a moment with horror, then dropped the line
and paddled swiftly away, to the great amusement of Hiiaka and her
companions.
Embarking in a canoe with two men as assistants, the travelers
sailed for the island of Maui, which they reached without delay or
accident. Landing at Kaupo, they traveled overland toward Honuaula,
near which place, in approaching the palace of the king, whose name
was Olepau, and who was lying within at the point of death, Hiiaka
observed a human spirit hovering around the outer enclosure. Knowing
that it was the half-freed soul or spirit of the moi, she seized and
tied it up in a corner of her pau.
Passing on with the soul of the king in her keeping, she met the
queen, Waihimano, and told her that her husband had just died. But
the queen denied that Olepau was dead, for she was a worshipper of
two powerful lizard divinities, and the gods had assured her that
morning that her husband would recover.
Saying no more, Hiiaka and her companions went on their way, and
the queen, returning to the palace, found her husband insensible and
apparently dead. Trying in vain to restore him, she hastily consulted
a kaula, telling him what the strange woman had said to her. The seer
by the description recognized at once the sister of Pele, who had
come to heal the king, but had been deterred in her errand of mercy
by the queen's obstinate assurances of his recovery. He therefore
advised that she be followed by a messenger with a spotless pig to
be placed as an offering in the path before her, when she perchance
might return and restore the king to life. But Hiiaka dropped behind
her companions and assumed the form of an old woman, and, as the
messenger did not recognize her, he returned with the report that
the object of his search could not be found.
"Did you meet no one?" inquired the seer.
"No one answering the description," replied the messenger. "I saw
only an old woman, so infirm as to be scarcely able to walk."
"Fool!" exclaimed the kaula. "That old woman was Hiiaka in
disguise. Hasten back to her, if you would save the life of your king!"
The messenger again started in pursuit of Hiiaka, but the pig was
obstinate and troublesome, and his progress was slow. Seizing the
struggling animal in his arms, the messenger ran until he came within
sight of the women, who were again traveling together, when Hiiaka
struck the fold of her pau against a rock, and that instant the
king expired.
Reaching the coast and embarking with a fisherman, Hiiaka and her
companions sailed for Oahu. Landing at Makapuu, they journeyed overland
to Kou--now Honolulu--and from Haena made sail for Kauai. Arriving at
Kaena, Hiiaka saw the spirit hand of Lohiau beckoning to her from the
mouth of a cave among the cliffs. Turning to her companions, she said:
"We have failed; the lover of Pele is dead! I see his spirit beckoning
from the pali! There it is being held and hidden by the lizard-women,
Kilioa and Kalamainu."
Instructing her companions to proceed to Puoa, where the body of
Lohiau was lying in state, Hiiaka started at once for the pali, for
the purpose of giving battle to the female demons and rescuing the
spirit of the dead prince.
Ascending the cliff and entering the cave, Hiiaka waved her pau, and
with angry hisses the demons disappeared. Search was made, and the
spirit of Lohiau was found at last in a niche in the rocks, where it
had been placed by a moonbeam. Taking it tenderly in her hand, she
enclosed it in a fold of her pau, and in an invisible form floated
down with it to Puoa.
Waiting until after nightfall, Hiiaka entered the chamber of death
unseen, and restored the spirit to the body of Lohiau. Recovering his
life and consciousness, the prince looked around with amazement. The
guards were frightened when he raised his head, and would have fled
in alarm had they not been prevented by Hiiaka, who at that instant
appeared before them in mortal form. Holding up her hand, as if to
command obedience, she said:
"Fear nothing, say nothing of this to any one living, and do nothing
except as you may be ordered. The prince has returned to life, and may
recover if properly cared for. His body is weak and wasted. Let him
be secretly and at once removed to the sea-shore. The night is dark,
and it may be done without observation."
Not doubting that these instructions were from the gods, the guards
obeyed them with so much prudence and alacrity that Lohiau was soon
comfortably resting in a hut by the sea-shore, with Hiiaka and her
companions ministering to his wants.
The return of the prince to health and strength was rapid, and in a
few days he reappeared among his friends, to their amazement and great
joy. In answer to their inquiries he informed them that he owed to
the gods his restoration to life. This did not entirely satisfy them,
but no further explanation was offered.
After celebrating his recovery with feasts and sacrifices to the
gods, Lohiau announced to the chiefs of his kingdom that he was
about to visit his wife, whose home was on Hawaii, and that he should
leave the government of the island in the hands of his friend, the
high-chief Paoa, to whom he enjoined the fealty and respect of all
during his absence.
In a magnificent double canoe, bearing the royal standard and equipped
as became the kaulua of an alii-nui, Lohiau set sail for Hawaii,
accompanied by Hiiaka and her companions, and taking with him his
high-priest, chief navigator, and the customary staff of personal
attendants.
Touching at Oahu, Hiiaka ascended the Kaala mountains, and saw that
her beautiful lehua and hala groves near the beach of Puna, on the
distant island of Hawaii, had been destroyed by a lava flow. Impatient
at the long absence of Hiiaka, and jealous as well, Pele had in a fit
of rage destroyed the beautiful sea-shore retreats of her faithful
sister. She scarcely doubted that Hiiaka had dared to love Lohiau,
and in her chambers of fire chafed for her return.
After bewailing her loss Hiiaka rejoined her companions, and Lohiau
embarked for Hawaii. Landing at Kohala, the prince ordered his
attendants to remain there until his return, and started overland for
Kilauea with Hiiaka and her two female companions. Before reaching
the volcano Hiiaka learned something of the jealous rage of Pele, and
finally saw from a distant eminence her dear friend Hopoe undergoing
the cruel tortures of volcanic fire, near the beach of Puna, which
ended in her being turned into stone.
Approaching the crater with apprehensions of further displays of
Pele's fury, Hiiaka sent Omeo and Pauo-palae in advance to announce
to the goddess her return with Lohiau. In her wrath she ordered both
of the women to be slain at once, and resolved to treat her lover in
the same manner.
Aware of this heartless resolution, and unable to avert the execution
of it, on their arrival at the verge of the crater Hiiaka threw her
arms around the neck of the prince, whom she had learned to love
without wrong to her sister, and, telling him of his impending fate,
bade him a tender farewell.
This scene was witnessed by Pele. Enraged beyond measure, she caused
a gulf of molten lava to be opened between Hiiaka and the prince,
and then ordered the instant destruction of Lohiau by fire.
While the sisters of Pele were ascending the walls of the crater to
execute her orders, Lohiau chanted a song to the goddess, avowing
his innocence and pleading for mercy; but her rage was rekindled at
the sound of his voice, and she turned a deaf ear to his entreaties.
Approaching Lohiau, and pitying him, the sisters merely touched
the palms of his hands, which turned them into lava, and then
retired. Observing this, Pele ordered them to return at once, under
the penalty of her displeasure, and consume the body of her lover.
Lohiau again appealed to Pele, so piteously that the trees around
him wept with grief; but her only answer was an impatient signal to
her sisters to resume their work of destruction. In his despair he
turned to Hiiaka and implored her intercession, but she answered in
agony that she could do nothing.
The sisters returned to Lohiau, and reluctantly touched his feet, which
became stone; then his knees; then his thighs; then his breast. By
the power conferred upon her by Pele, and of which she had not yet
been deprived, Hiiaka rendered the body of the prince insensible to
pain, and it was therefore without suffering that he felt his joints
hardening into stone under the touch of his sympathizing executioners.
As the remainder of his body was about to be turned into lava, Hiiaka
said to the prince:
"Listen! When you die go to the leeward, and I will find you!"
The next moment Lohiau was a lifeless pillar of stone.
Observing that the cruel work of her sister had been accomplished,
and that all that remained of the shapely form of Lohiau was a black
mass of lava, Hiiaka caused the earth to be opened at her feet, and
started downward at once for the misty realm of Milu to overtake the
soul of Lohiau, and, with the consent of the god of death, restore
it to its body.
Passing downward through each of the five spheres dividing the surface
of the earth from the regions of Po, where Milu sits in state in the
gloomy groves of death, Hiiaka finally stood in the presence of the
august sovereign of the world of spirits.
The king of death welcomed her to his dominions, and, in response
to her inquiry, informed her that the soul of Lohiau had not yet
reached the abode of spirits. Having no desire to return to earth,
Hiiaka accepted the invitation of Milu, and, watching and waiting
for the soul of Lohiau, remained for a time in the land of spirits.
III.
The attendants of Lohiau remained in Kohala until they learned of his
fate at the hands of Pele, when they returned to Kauai in the royal
kaulua, and horrified the friends of the prince by relating to them
the story of his death.
Enraged and desperate, Paoa, the faithful and sturdy chief to whom
Lohiau had confided the government of his kingdom, started at once
for Hawaii with a small party of retainers, determined, even at the
sacrifice of his life, to denounce the powers that had slain his
royal friend.
Landing on the coast of Puna, he ascended to the crater of Kilauea,
and, standing upon the brink of the seething lake of fire, denounced
the cruelty of Pele and defied her power. He contemptuously threw to
her offerings unfit for sacrifice, and stigmatized all the volcanic
deities as evil spirits who had been driven with Kanaloa from the
presence of Kane and the society of the gods.
Paoa expected to be destroyed at once, and recklessly courted and
awaited death. The brothers and sisters of Pele, with their several
agencies of destruction, were momentarily expecting an order from the
goddess to consume the audacious mortal in his tracks. Never before
had such words of reproach and defiance been uttered by human tongue,
and they could not doubt that swift vengeance would be hurled upon
the offender.
But Pele refused to harm the desperate champion of Lohiau, for
circumstances had convinced her of the innocence of Hiiaka and the
fidelity of the prince. Therefore, instead of punishing the brave
Paoa, Pele and her relatives received him with friendship, gently
chided him for his words of insult and defiance, and disarmed his
anger by forgiving the offence.
Satisfied of the great wrong she had done her faithful sister,
and longing for her presence again in the chambers of the crater,
Pele restored Pauo-palae and Omeo to life, and, endowing the latter
with supernatural powers, sent her down to the regions of the dead
to induce Hiiaka to return to earth.
Descending through the opening made by Hiiaka, Omeo was stopped at
the intervening spheres, owing to the aspects of mortality which she
unconsciously retained, and encountered many difficulties in reaching
the kingdom of Milu. Arriving there and making known the object of
her visit, Omeo was neither assisted nor encouraged in her search for
Hiiaka. Milu was not anxious to part with his distinguished guest,
and attempted to deceive Omeo by intimating that Hiiaka had returned
to earth and was then on a visit to some of the relatives of her
family in Kahiki.
Omeo was about to return, disappointed, to earth, when she discovered
Hiiaka as she was listlessly emerging from a thick grove of trees
where she had spent the most of her time since her arrival there
in quest of the soul of Lohiau. Their greeting was most friendly,
and when Omeo informed her of what had occurred at the volcano since
her departure, she consented to leave the land of death and rejoin
her relatives at the crater.
The brothers and sisters of Hiiaka were overjoyed at her return,
and Pele welcomed her with assurances of restored affection. Paoa
was still there. He was at once recognized by Hiiaka, and the next
day she descended from Kilauea and embarked with him for Kauai in
search of the soul of Lohiau.
The canoe of Paoa had scarcely left the shores of Puna before a strange
craft swept in from the ocean, and was beached at the spot from which
Hiiaka and her companion had embarked less than half a day before. It
was a huge cowrie shell, dazzling in the brilliancy of its colors,
and capable of indefinite expansion. Its masts were of ivory, and
its sails were mats of the whiteness of milk. Both seemed to be mere
ornaments, however, since the shell moved quite as swiftly through
the water without wind as with it.
The sole occupant of the little vessel was the god Kanemilohai. He
was a relative of the Pele family, and came from Kahiki on a visit
to the volcanic deities of Hawaii. Remaining two or three days with
Pele, and learning all that had happened to the family since they
left Kahiki, the god started for Kauai to extend a greeting to Hiiaka.
Proceeding in a direct route, when about midway between the two islands
the god caught the soul of Lohiau, which had misunderstood the final
directions of Hiiaka and was on its way to Kauai. Not having gone to
the land of spirits, it had been searching everywhere for Hiiaka,
and had at last taken flight for Kauai, when it was intercepted
by Kanemilohai.
The god returned to the crater with the captured spirit, and, finding
the pillar of stone into which Lohiau had been turned, restored the
prince to life. As he recovered his consciousness and opened his
eyes he recognized Pele standing before him. Apprehensive of further
persecution, he was about to appeal to her again for mercy when she
said, in a tone as tender as that in which she had first replied to
his welcome on the beach at Kaena:
"Fear me no longer. I have been unjust to you as well as to
Hiiaka. After what I have done I cannot expect your love. Find
Hiiaka and give it to her. She loves you, and knows how to be kind
to a mortal."
Lohiau would have thanked the goddess, but when he looked again she
was gone, and in her place stood Kanemilohai, who told him to take the
shell vessel he would find at the beach below, and proceed to Kauai,
where he would probably meet Hiiaka and his friend Paoa.
Lohiau hesitated, for there was something in the appearance of
Kanemilohai that inspired a feeling of awe.
"Go, and fear nothing," said the god, who knew the thoughts of the
prince. "The shell was not made in the sea or by human hands, but it
will bear you safely on your journey, no matter how rough the waves
or great its burden."
"The coast of Puna is a day's journey in length," said Lohiau. "Where
and how will I be able to find the shell?"
"Hasten to the shore at Keauhou," returned the god, "and you will
see me there."
Arriving at the beach designated, the prince was surprised to find
Kanemilohai already there; but he found something more to excite
his wonder when the god took from a crevice in the rocks, where
it had been secreted, a shell no larger than the palm of his hand,
and passed it to him with the announcement that it was the barge in
which he was to sail for Kauai.
Lohiau examined the little toy with something of a feeling of
amusement, but more of perplexity, and was about to return it to his
strange companion, when the latter instructed him to place the shell
in the edge of the waters. The prince obeyed, and instantly found
before him the beautiful craft in which the god had made his journey
from Kahiki.
The power being conferred upon him by the god to contract or extend
the proportions of the shell at his will, Lohiau entered the enchanted
vessel of pink and pearl, and, directing its course by simply pointing
his finger, was swiftly borne out into the ocean.
Rounding the southern cape of Hawaii, Lohiau thought of proceeding
directly to Kauai; but he pointed too far to the northward, and the
next morning sighted Oahu. Passing the headland of Leahi, he turned
and entered the harbor of Hou. Landing, he contracted to the dimensions
of a limpet, and secreted in a niche in the rocks, his obedient barge,
and then proceeded to the village, where, he learned to his great joy,
Hiiaka and Paoa were tarrying on a visit. Hou was at that time the
scene of great merriment and feasting. It had become the temporary
residence of the alii-nui, and high-chiefs, kahunas, adventurers,
and noted surf-riders and hula performers had congregated there from
all parts of the island.
Ascertaining that an entertainment of great magnificence was to be
given that evening by a distinguished chiefess in honor of Hiiaka
and her companion, Lohiau resolved to be present. Had he made
himself known he would have been entitled to the consideration of
the highest--would have been, indeed, the guest of the alii-nui,
with the right of entrance anywhere; but fancy prompted him to hide
his rank and appear in disguise among the revelers.
Early in the evening the grounds of the chiefess were lighted
with hundreds of torches, and under a broad pavilion, festooned
and scented with fragrant vines and flowers, the favored guests,
enwreathed and crowned with leaf and blossom, partook without stint
of such delicacies as the land and sea produced. After the feast,
song and music filled the air, and bands of gaily-decked dancers kept
step among the flaring torches, while around the doors of the mansion
white-bearded bards chanted wild legends of the past and sang the
mele-inoas of the hostess and her distinguished guests.
In the midst of this inspiring revelry the guests divided into groups
as their several tastes suggested. Some strolled out among the dancers,
others listened to the stories of the bards, and one party, including
Hiiaka, Paoa and the hostess, entered the mansion to engage in the game
of kilu. It was a pastime of which singing or chanting was a part, and
the chiefess was noted for her proficiency in the popular amusement.
Lohiau entered the grounds at the close of the feast, and stood
watching the festivities when the party of kilu players retired to
the mansion. He had turned inward the feathers of his mantle of royal
yellow, and, with his long hair falling over his face and shoulders,
was readily mistaken for a kahuna.
Quite a number of persons thronged around the kilu players to witness
the game, and Lohiau entered the room without hindrance. Approaching
the players, he screened himself behind the kapas of two old chiefs
who were so intently regarding the performance that they did not
observe him.
The game progressed until the kilu fell to Hiiaka, and as she threw it
she chanted a song of her own composing, in which the name of Lohiau
was mentioned with tenderness. The song ceased, and from behind the
spectators came the answering voice of the prince. As he sang he
brushed back the hair from his handsome face and turned outward the
yellow feathers of his mantle. The throng divided, the singer advanced,
and before the players stood Lohiau, the prince of Kauai.
He was recognized at once. Hiiaka threw herself into his arms, and the
faithful Paoa wept with joy. Informed of the rank of the distinguished
visitor, the guests vied with each other in showing him honor, and
the festivities were renewed and carried far into the night.
Learning the next day of the presence near his court of the sovereign
of Kauai, the alii-nui would have entertained him in a manner befitting
the high rank of both; but Lohiau was anxious to return to his people,
and set sail for Kauai at once in the shell barge of Kanemilohai,
expanded to adequate dimensions, taking with him Hiiaka and Paoa.
Although Hiiaka soon after returned to Hawaii and effected a complete
reconciliation with her sister, while Lohiau lived she spent much of
her time in Kauai. Hopoe was restored to life, and Omeo, or Wahineomeo,
was given an immortal form for what she had done, and became thereafter
the mediator between the volcanic deities.
KAHAVARI, CHIEF OF PUNA.
CHARACTERS.
Pele, goddess of volcanoes.
Kahavari, chief of Puna.
Ahua, companion of Kahavari.
Kapoho and
Kaohe, children of Kahavari.
KAHAVARI, CHIEF OF PUNA.
A STORY OF THE VENGEANCE OF THE GODDESS PELE.
Between Cape Kumakahi, the extreme eastern point of the island of
Hawaii, and the great lava flow of 1840, which burst forth apparently
from a long subterranean channel connecting with the crater of Kilauea,
and went down to the sea at Nanawale over villages and groves of palms,
is a small historic district which, notwithstanding the repeated
volcanic disturbances with which it has been convulsed in the past,
the chasms with which it has been rent, and the smoke and ashes
that have shut out the light of the sun and driven its people to the
protection of their temples, still possesses many fertile nooks and
natural attractions. Within a few miles of each other, not far inland,
are a number of extinct craters; but the rains are abundant in Puna,
and spring is eternal, and the vegetation grows rank above hidden
patches of lava, and is constantly stretching and deepening its mantle
of green over the vitreous rivers of Kilauea and the lower and lesser
volcanic vents clinging to its base like so many cauterized ulcers.
The valleys are green in that part of Puna now, and there the banana
and the bread-fruit grow, and the ohia and pineapple scent the air. But
so has it not always been, for the mango ripens over fields of buried
lava, and the palms grow tall from the refilled chasms of dead streams
of fire. The depression of Kapoho, now sweet with tropical odors,
marks the site of a sunken mountain, and where to-day sleep the quiet
waters of a lake once boiled a sea of liquid lava, in a basin broader,
perhaps, than the mighty caldron of Kilauea.
We are now about to speak of one of the many irruptions which
at intervals in the past poured their desolating torrents of fire
through the district, alternately loved and hated by Pele, the dreadful
goddess of the volcanoes. In connection with it tradition has brought
down a tale combining elements of simplicity and grandeur strikingly
characteristic of the mythological legends of Polynesia--legends
equaling the Norse in audacity, but lacking the motive and connecting
causes of the Greek. They are simply legendary epics, beginning
in caprice and abruptly ending, in many instances, in grandest
tumult. They are like chapters torn from a lost volume--patches of
disturbed elements and gigantic forms and energies clandestinely
cut from a passing panorama and placed in the foreground of strange
and inharmonious conditions. They embrace gods reminding us of Thor,
monsters more hideous than Polyphemus, demi-gods mighty as the son of
Thetis, and kings with strains reaching back to the loins of gods; but
in motive and action they were independent of, and not unfrequently
hostile to, each other. No celestial synod shaped their course or
moved them to effort, and to no authority higher than their individual
wills were they usually responsible. Many of them were created with
no reference to the necessity of their being or the maintenance of
divine respect or authority, and not a few seem to have been the
creations of accident.
As an example the demi-god Maui may be mentioned. As told by tradition,
his principal abode was Hawaii, although his facilities for visiting
the other islands of the group will be considered ample when it is
stated that he could step from one to another, even from Oahu to Kauai,
a distance of seventy miles. When he bathed--and bathing was one of
his greatest delights--his feet trod the deepest basins of the ocean
and his hair was moistened with the vapor of the clouds. Neither his
creator nor the purpose of his creation is mentioned; but he was blest
with a wife with proportions, it is presumed, somewhat in keeping with
his own, and as an evidence of their attachment it is related that
at one time he reached up and seized the sun, and held it for some
hours motionless in the heavens, to enable his industrious spouse to
complete the manufacture of a piece of kapa upon which she was engaged.
And Kana was another gigantic being of similar proportions. He,
too, was partial to Hawaii, and could step from island to island,
and frequently stood for his amusement with one foot on Oahu and the
other either on Maui or Kauai. Tradition may have confounded these two
monsters; but, as Kana was wifeless, we are constrained to regard them
as distinct; and, being without the care of a wife, he was enabled
to devote his entire attention to himself and the inhabitants of
the islands crawling at his feet. Hence, when the king of Kahiki,
who was the keeper of the sun, shut its light from the Hawaiians
for some trivial offence, Kana waded the ocean to the home of the
vindictive monarch, and by threats compelled him to restore the light
to the Hawaiian group. This done, he waded back and hung his mantle to
dry on Mauna Kea, which was then an active volcano. Another demi-god
of the same name is also referred to in some of the early meles of
Hawaii. He was the son of Hina, who went with his brother to the
rescue of their mother, who had been during their infancy abducted
by the son of the king of Molokai. He was endowed by his grandmother,
a sorceress from one of the southern islands, with the faculty of so
elongating and contracting his person as to be able to pass through
the deepest waters with his head at all times above the surface.
The shadows of these and other monsters are seen far back in the past;
but human beings of gigantic proportions, of natural birth and claiming
no connection with the gods, are mentioned in Hawaiian folk-lore as
having lived as late as the beginning of the sixteenth century. Thus,
during the reign of Umi, king of Hawaii, whose romantic ascent to
the throne is the theme of chant and song, and to whom the past and
present dynasties of united Hawaii trace their descent, lived the
giant Maukaleoleo. He was one of Umi's warriors, and must have been a
mighty host in himself. His measure in feet is not recorded, but he
stood upon the ground and plucked cocoanuts from the tallest trees,
and once, without wetting his loins, strode out into six fathoms of
water and saved the life of his chief. As the traditions relating
to Umi are quite elaborate and circumstantial, the existence of
Maukaleoleo cannot well be doubted, however greatly we may feel
disposed to curtail his proportions.
But, in groping among these monsters of the Hawaiian past, we
have been led somewhat from the story of the irruption in Puna,
to which reference has been made. However, as pertinent to it, and
to the goddess whose wrath invoked it, it may be mentioned that
many centuries ago a family of gods and goddesses came to Hawaii
from Tahiti and took possession of the volcanic mountains of that
island. The family consisted of five brothers and nine sisters, of
which Pele was the principal deity. The others possessed specific
powers and functions, such as controlling the fires, smoke, steam,
explosions, etc., of the volcanoes under their supervision. Although
they frequently dwelt in other volcanoes, their principal and favorite
abode was the crater of Kilauea. Almost without exception they were
destructive and merciless. Temples were erected to Pele in every
district menaced by volcanic disturbance, and offerings of fruits,
animals, and sometimes of human beings were laid upon her altars and
thrown into the crater to secure her favor or placate her wrath. In
the legend of "The Apotheosis of Pele" a more extended reference is
made to the goddess and her family.
With this knowledge of the power and disposition of Pele, the reader
will be prepared for the story of the exhibition of her wrath in Puna,
which will now be related nearly in the language of tradition. The
event occurred during the reign of Kahoukapu, who from about 1340 to
1380 was the alii-nui, or governing chief, of Hawaii. The chief of
the district of Puna was Kahavari, a young noble distinguished for his
strength, courage and manly accomplishments. How he came to be chief or
governor of Puna is not stated. As his father and sister lived on Oahu,
he was probably a native of that island, and may have been advanced
to his position through military service rendered the Hawaiian king,
since it was customary in those days, as it was at later periods,
for young men of martial tastes to seek adventure and employment at
arms with the kings and chiefs of neighboring islands.
The grass-thatched mansion of the young chief was near Kapoho, where
his wife lived with their two children, Paupoulu and Kaohe; and at
Kukii, no great distance away, dwelt his old mother, then on a visit to
her distinguished son. As his taro lands were large and fertile, and he
had fish-ponds on the sea-shore, he entertained with prodigality, and
the people of Puna thought there was no chief like him in all Hawaii.
It was at the time of the monthly festival of Lono. The day was
beautiful. The trade-winds were bending the leaves of the palms
and scattering the spray from the breakers chasing each other over
the reef. A holua contest had been announced between the stalwart
young chief and his favorite friend and companion, Ahua, and a large
concourse of men, women and children had assembled at the foot of the
hill to witness the exciting pastime. They brought with them drums,
ohes, ulilis, rattling gourds and other musical instruments, and while
they awaited the coming of the contestants all frolicked as if they
were children--frolicked as was their way before the white man came
to tell them they were nearly naked, and that life was too serious
a thing to be frittered away in enjoyment. They ate ohias, cocoanuts
and bananas under the palms, and chewed the pith of sugar-cane. They
danced, sang and laughed at the hula and other sports of the children,
and grew nervous with enthusiasm when their bards chanted the meles
of by-gone years.
The game of holua consists in sliding down a sometimes long but
always steep hill on a narrow sledge from six to twelve feet in
length, called a papa. The light and polished runners, bent upward
at the front, are bound quite closely together, with cross-bars
for the hands and feet. With a run at the top of the sliding track,
slightly smoothed and sometimes strewn with rushes, the rider throws
himself face downward on the narrow papa and dashes headlong down
the hill. As the sledge is not more than six or eight inches in
width, with more than as many feet in length, one of the principal
difficulties of the descent is in keeping it under the rider; the
other, of course, is in guiding it; but long practice is required to
master the subtleties of either. Kahavari was an adept with the papa,
and so was Ahua. Rare sport was therefore expected, and the people
of the neighborhood assembled almost in a body to witness it.
Finally appearing at the foot of the hill, Kahavari and his companion
were heartily cheered by their good-natured auditors. Their papas
were carried by attendants. The chief smiled upon the assemblage,
and as he struck his tall spear into the ground and divested his
broad shoulders of the kihei covering them, the wagers of fruit and
pigs were three to one that he would reach the bottom first, although
Ahua was expert with the papa, and but a month before had beaten the
champion of Kau on his own ground.
Taking their sledges under their arms, the contestants laughingly
mounted the hill with firm, strong strides, neither thinking of
resting until the top was gained. Stopping for a moment preparatory
to the descent, a comely-looking woman stepped out from behind a
clump of undergrowth and bowed before them. Little attention was
paid to her until she approached still nearer and boldly challenged
Kahavari to contest the holua with her instead of Ahua. Exchanging a
smile of amusement with his companion, the chief scanned the lithe
and shapely figure of the woman for a moment, and then exclaimed,
more in astonishment than in anger: "What! with a woman?"
"And why not with a woman, if she is your superior and you lack not
the courage?" was the calm rejoinder.
"You are bold, woman," returned the chief, with something of a
frown. "What know you of the papa?"
"Enough to reach the bottom of the hill in front of the chief of Puna,"
was the prompt and defiant answer.
"Is it so, indeed? Then take the papa and we will see!" said Kahavari,
with an angry look which did not seem to disturb the woman in the
least.
At a motion from the chief, Ahua handed his papa to the woman, and the
next moment Kahavari, with the strange contestant closely behind him,
was dashing down the hill. On, on they went, around and over rocks,
at break-neck speed; but for a moment the woman lost her balance,
and Kahavari reached the end of the course a dozen paces in advance.
Music and shouting followed the victory of the chief, and, scowling
upon the exultant multitude, the woman pointed to the hill, silently
challenging the victor to another trial. They mounted the hill without
a word, and turned for another start.
"Stop!" said the woman, while a strange light flashed in her
eyes. "Your papa is better than mine. If you would act fairly, let
us now exchange!"
"Why should I exchange?" replied the chief, hastily. "You are neither
my wife nor my sister, and I know you not. Come!" And, presuming the
woman was following him, Kahavari made a spring and dashed down the
hill on his papa.
With this the woman stamped her foot, and a river of burning lava burst
from the hill and began to pour down into the valley beneath. Reaching
the bottom, Kahavari rose and looked behind him, and to his horror saw
a wide and wild torrent of lava rushing down the hillside toward the
spot where he was standing; and riding on the crest of the foremost
wave was the woman--now no longer disguised, but Pele, the dreadful
goddess of Kilauea--with thunder at her feet and lightning playing
with her flaming tresses.
Seizing his spear, Kahavari, accompanied by Ahua, fled for his life
to the small eminence of Puukea. He looked behind, and saw the entire
assemblage of spectators engulfed in a sea of fire. With terrible
rapidity the valleys began to fill, and he knew that his only hope of
escape was in reaching the ocean, for it was manifest that Pele was
intent upon his destruction. He fled to his house, and, passing it
without stopping, said farewell to his mother, wife and children, and
to his favorite hog Aloipuaa. Telling them that Pele was in pursuit
of him with a river of fire, and to save themselves, if possible,
by escaping to the hills, he left them to their fate.
Coming to a chasm, he saw Pele pouring down it to cut off his
retreat. He crossed on his spear, pulling his friend over after
him. At length, closely pursued, he reached the ocean. His brother,
discovering the danger, had just landed from his fishing canoe and
gone to look after the safety of his family. Kahavari leaped into the
canoe with his companion, and, using his spear for a paddle, was soon
beyond the reach of the pursuing lava. Enraged at his escape, Pele
ran some distance into the water and hurled after him huge stones,
that hissed as they struck the waves, until an east wind sprang up
and carried him far out to sea.
He first reached the island of Maui, and thence by the way of Lanai
found his way to Oahu, where he remained to the end of his days. All
of his relatives in Puna perished, with hundreds of others in the
neighborhood of Kapoho. But he never ventured back to Puna, the grave
of his hopes and his people, for he believed Pele, the unforgiving,
would visit the place with another horror if he did.
Pele had come down from Kilauea in a pleasant mood to witness the holua
contest; but Kahavari angered her unwittingly, and what followed has
just been described.
KAHALAOPUNA, THE PRINCESS OF MANOA.
CHARACTERS.
Kahaukani, male, and
Kauahuahine, female, children of supernatural birth.
Kolowahi, guardian of Kahaukani.
Pohakukala, guardian of Kauahuahine.
Kahalaopuna, daughter of Kahaukani and Kauahuahine.
Kauhi, the betrothed of Kahalaopuna.
Keawaawakiihelei and
Kumauna, inferior chiefs.
Mahana, a young chief.
Akaaka, father of Kahaukani and Kauahuahine.
Kaea, a sorcerer.
Elepaio, a bird-god.
KAHALAOPUNA, THE PRINCESS OF MANOA.
A LEGEND OF THE VALLEY OF RAINBOW
I.
Manoa is the most beautiful of all the little valleys leaping abruptly
from the mountains back of Honolulu and cooling the streets and
byways of the city with their sweet waters. And it is also the most
verdant. Gentle rains fall there more frequently than in the valleys
on either side of it, and almost every day in the year it is canopied
with rainbows. Sometimes it is called, and not inappropriately,
the Valley of Rainbows.
Why is it that Manoa is thus blessed with rains, thus ornamented with
rainbows, thus cradled in everlasting green? Were a reason sought
among natural causes, it would doubtless be found in a favoring
rent or depression in the summit above the valley, and overlooking
the eastern coast of Oahu, where wind and rain are abundant. But
tradition furnishes another explanation of the exceptionally kind
dealings of the elements with Manoa--not as satisfactory, perhaps,
as the one suggested, but very much more poetic.
Far back in the past, as the story relates, the projecting spur
of Akaaka, above the head of Manoa Valley, was united in marriage
with the neighboring promontory of Nalehuaakaaka. A growth of lehua
bushes still crowns the spur in perpetual witness of the union. Of
this marriage of mountains twin children were born--a boy named
Kahaukani, which signified Manoa wind, and a girl called Kauahuahine,
which implied Manoa rain. At their birth they were adopted by a chief
and chiefess whose names were Kolowahi and Pohakukala. They were
brother and sister, and cousins, also, of Akaaka. The brother took
charge of the boy, and the sister assumed the custody and care of the
girl. Reared apart from each other, and kept in ignorance of their
close relationship, through the management of their foster-parents
they were brought together at the proper age and married. The fruit
of this union was a daughter, who was given the name of Kahalaopuna,
and who became the most beautiful woman of her time. Thus it was
that the marriage of the Wind (Kahaukani) and Rain (Kauahuahine)
of Manoa brought to the valley as an inheritance the rainbows and
showers for which it has since been distinguished.
To continue the story of the ancient bards of Oahu, Kahalaopuna--or
Kaha, as the name will hereafter be written--grew to a surpassingly
beautiful womanhood. A house was built for her in a grove of
sandal-trees at Kahaiamano, where she lived with a few devoted
servants. The house was embowered in vines, and two poloulou, or
tabu staves, were kept standing beside the entrance, to indicate
that they guarded from intrusion a person of high rank. Her eyes
were so bright that their glow penetrated the thatch of her hale,
and a luminous glimmer played around its openings. When bathing a
roseate halo surrounded her, and a similar light is still visible,
it is claimed, whenever her spirit revisits Kahaiamano.
In infancy Kaha was betrothed to Kauhi, a young chief of Kailua, whose
parents were so sensible of the honor of the proposed union that they
always provided her table with poi of their own making and choice fish
from the ponds of Kawainui. The acceptance of these favors placed her
under obligations to the parents of Kauhi and kept her in continual
remembrance of her betrothal. Hence she gave no encouragement to the
many chiefs of distinction who sought to obtain glimpses of her beauty
and annoyed her with proffers of marriage. The chief to whom she was
betrothed was, like herself, of something more than human descent, and
she felt herself already bound to him by ties too sacred to be broken.
The fame of her beauty spread far and near, and people came from
long distances to catch glimpses of her from lands adjoining, as she
walked to and from her bathing-pool or strolled in the shelter of the
trees surrounding her house. Among those who many times approached her
dwelling but failed to see her were Keawaawakiihelei and Kumauna, two
inferior chiefs, whose eyes were disfigured by an unnatural distention
of the lower lids. In ungenerous revenge, and envious of those who
had fared better, they decked themselves with leis of flowers, and,
repairing to the bathing-place at Waikiki, boasted that the garlands
had been placed around their necks by the beautiful Kaha, with whom
they affected the greatest intimacy.
Among the bathers at that popular resort was Kauhi. Although the
day fixed for his marriage with Kaha was near at hand, he had never
seen her--this being one of the conditions of the betrothal. The
stories of the two miscreants were repeated until Kauhi at length
gave them credence, and in a fit of jealous fury he resolved to kill
the beautiful enchantress who had thus trifled with his love.
Leaving Waikiki in the morning, he reached Kahaiamano about
midday. Breaking from a pandanus-tree a heavy cone of nuts with a
short limb attached, he presented himself at the house of Kaha. She had
just awoke from a nap, and was about to proceed to her bathing-pond,
when she was startled at observing a stranger at her door. He did not
speak, but from frequent descriptions she at length recognized him as
Kauhi, and with some embarrassment invited him to enter. Declining,
and admitting his identity, he requested her to step without, and she
unhesitatingly complied. His first intention was to kill her at once;
but her supreme loveliness and ready obedience unnerved him for the
time, and he proposed that she should first bathe and then accompany
him in a ramble through the woods.
To this she assented, and while she was absent Kauhi stood by the
door, moodily watching the bright light playing above the pond where
she was bathing. He was profoundly impressed with her great beauty,
and would have given half the years of his life to clasp her in his
arms unsullied. The very thought intensified his jealousy; and when
his mind reverted to the disgusting objects upon whom he believed
she had bestowed her favors, he resolved to show her no mercy, and
impatiently awaited her return.
Finishing her bath and rejoining him at the door, her beauty was so
enrapturing that he was afraid to look at her face, lest he might again
falter; it was therefore with his back turned to her that he declined
to partake of food before they departed, and motioned her to follow
him. His actions were so strange that she said to him, half in alarm:
"Are you, indeed, angered with me? Have I in any way displeased
you? Speak, that I may know my fault!"
"Why, foolish girl, what could you have done to displease me?" replied
Kauhi, evasively.
"Nothing, I hope," returned Kaha; "yet your look is cold and almost
frightens me."
"It is my mood to-day, perhaps," answered Kauhi, increasing his pace
to give employment to his thoughts; "you will think better of my looks,
no doubt, when we are of longer acquaintance."
They kept on together, he leading and she following, until they
reached a large rock in Aihualama, when he turned abruptly, and,
seizing the girl by the arm, said:
"You are beautiful--so beautiful that your face almost drives me mad;
but you have been false and must die!"
Kaha's first thought was that he was making sport with her; but when
she looked up into his face and saw that it was stern and smileless,
she replied:
"If you are resolved upon my death, why did you not kill me at home,
so that my bones might be buried by my people? If you think me false,
tell me with whom, that I may disabuse your mind of the cruel error
possessing it."
"Your words are as fair as your face, but neither will deceive me
longer!" exclaimed Kauhi; and with a blow on the temple with the cone
of hala nuts, which he was still carrying, he laid her dead at his
feet. Hastily digging a hole beside the rock, he buried the body and
started down the valley toward Waikiki.
He had scarcely left before a large owl--a god in that guise,
who was related to Kaha and had followed her--unearthed the body,
rubbed his head against the bruised temple, and restored the girl
to life. Overtaking Kauhi, Kaha sang behind him a lament at his
unkindness. Turning in amazement, he observed the owl flying above
her head, and recognized the power that had restored her to life.
Again ordering Kaha to follow him, they ascended the ridge dividing
the valleys of Manoa and Nuuanu. The way was beset with sharp rocks
and tangled undergrowth, and when Kaha reached the summit her tender
feet were bleeding and her pau was in tatters. Seating herself on a
stone to regain her breath, with tears in her eyes she implored Kauhi
to tell her whither he was leading her and why he had sought to kill
her. His only reply was a blow with the hala cone, which again felled
her dead to the earth. Burying the body as before he resumed his way
toward Waikiki.
Again flying to the rescue of his beautiful and sinless relative, the
owl-god scratched away the earth above her and restored her once more
to life. Following Kauhi, she again chanted a song of lament behind
him, and begged him to be merciful to one who had never wronged him,
even in thought. Hearing her voice, he turned, and without answer
conducted her across the valley of Nuuanu to the ridge of Waolani,
where he killed and buried her as he had done twice before, and the
owl-god a third time removed the earth from the body and gave it life.
She again overtook her merciless companion, and again pleaded for life
and forgiveness for her unknown fault. Instead of softening his heart,
the words of Kaha enraged him, and he resolved not to be thwarted
in his determination to take her life. Leading her to the head of
Kalihi valley, where she was for the fourth time killed, buried
and resurrected as before, he next conducted her across plains and
steep ravines to Pohakea, on the Ewa slope of the Kaala mountains. He
hoped the owl-god would not follow them so far, but, looking around,
he discovered him among the branches of an ohia tree not far distant.
As Kaha was worn down with fatigue, it required but a slight blow to
kill her the fifth time, and when it was dealt to the unresisting
girl her body was buried under the roots of a large koa tree, and
there left by Kauhi, satisfied that it could not be reached by the
owl-god. Repairing to the spot after the departure of Kauhi, the owl
put himself to the task of scratching the earth from the body; but his
claws became entangled with the roots, which had been left to embarrass
his labors, and, after toiling for some time and making little or no
progress, he abandoned the undertaking as hopeless, and, reluctantly
left the unfortunate girl to her fate, following Kauhi to Waikiki.
But there had been another witness to these many deaths and
restorations of Kaha. It was a little green bird that had flitted along
unobserved either by Kaha or her companion, and had followed them from
Kahaiamano, flying from tree to tree and making no noise. Noting with
regret that the owl-god had abandoned the body of Kaha, the little
bird, which was a cousin to the girl and a supernatural being, flew
with haste to the parents of Kaha, and informed them of all that had
happened to their daughter.
The girl had been missed, but as some of her servants had recognized
Kauhi, and had seen her leave the house with him, her absence
occasioned no uneasiness; and when the little green bird, whose
name was Elepaio, recounted to the parents the story of Kaha's
great suffering and many deaths, they found it difficult to believe
that Kauhi could have been guilty of such fiendish cruelty to the
radiant being who was about to become his wife. They were convinced of
Elepaio's sincerity, however, and with great grief prepared to visit
the spot and remove the remains of Kaha for more fitting interment.
Meantime the spirit of the murdered girl discovered itself to Mahana,
a young chief of good address, who was returning from a visit to
Waianae. Directed by the apparition, he proceeded to the koa tree,
and, removing the earth and roots, discovered the body of Kaha. He
recognized the face at once, notwithstanding the blood and earth
stains disfiguring its faultless regularity. He had seen and become
enraptured with its beauty at Kahaiamano, and on one occasion, which
lived in his memory like a beautiful dream, he had been emboldened
by his love to approach sufficiently near to exchange modest words
and glances with it.
Gently removing the body from the shallow pit in which it had
been buried, Mahana found to his great joy that it was still
warm. Wrapping it in his kihei, or shoulder scarf, and covering it
with maile ferns and ginger, he tenderly bore it in his arms to his
home at Kamoiliili. As he walked he chanted his love and scarcely
felt his burden. Reaching home, he laid the body upon a kapa-moe,
and earnestly implored his elder brother to restore it to life,
he being a kahuna and having skill in such matters.
Examining the body and finding that he could do nothing unaided,
the brother called upon their two spirit-sisters for assistance,
and through their instrumentality the soul of Kaha was once more
restored to its beautiful tenement. But it was some time before
she fully recovered from the effects of her cruel treatment--some
time, in fact, before she was able to walk without support. In her
convalescence Mahana was her considerate and constant companion, and
found no greater pleasure than in providing her with the delicacies
to which she had been accustomed. She was greatly benefited by the
waters of the underground cave of Mauoki, to which she was frequently
and secretly taken, and under the watchful care of Mahana she was at
length restored to health.
II.
With her recovery, in the home of her new friends at Kamoiliili,
Kaha was introduced to a life that was new to her; but it was by no
means an unpleasant change from the restraints of her listless and
more sumptuous past behind the protecting shadows of her puloulous,
where she was jealously watched, and where rank closed her doors to
congenial companionship. She repaired to an unfrequented beach, and,
unobserved, played with the shifting sands and sang to the waves,
and at night went with Mahana to the reef with torch and spear in
search of fish and squid.
Knowing that her restoration to life could not be long kept from her
relatives, Mahana told her that his love for her was great, and asked
her to become his wife.
"I shall never love any one better than Mahana," replied Kaha;
"but from infancy I have been betrothed to Kauhi; my parents, the
Wind and Rain of Manoa, have promised that I shall be his wife,
and while he lives I can be the wife of no other."
The argument that Kauhi had forfeited all right to her by his cruelties
failed to shake her resolution, and the brother of Mahana advised
him to in some manner compass the death of Kauhi. To this end they
apprised the parents of Kaha of her restoration to life, and conspired
with them to keep secret the information for a time. This they were
the more disposed to do because of their uncertainty concerning what
Kauhi might again attempt should he find the girl alive.
In pursuance of the plan adopted, Mahana learned from Kaha all the
songs she had chanted to mollify the wrath of Kauhi while she was
following him through the mountains, and then sought the kilu houses
of the king and chiefs in the hope of encountering his rival. It was
not long before they met, under just such circumstances as Mahana
desired. He discovered Kauhi engaged with others in the game of kilu,
and joined the party as a player. The kilu passed from the hand of
Kauhi to Mahana, who, on receiving it, began to chant the first of
Kaha's songs.
Surprised and embarrassed, Kauhi, in violation of the rules of the
game, stopped the player to inquire where he had learned the words
of the song he was singing. The answer was that he had learned
them from Kaha, the noted beauty of Manoa, who was a friend of his
sister, and was then visiting them at their home. Knowing that she
had been deserted by the owl-god, and feeling assured that Kaha was
no longer living, Kauhi denounced as a falsehood the explanation of
the player. Bitter words followed, and but for the interference of
friends there would have been bloodshed.
They met the next day at the kilu house, and in the evening following,
when similar scenes occurred between Mahana and his rival, Kauhi became
so enraged at length that he admitted that he had killed the beautiful
Kaha of Manoa, and declared the Kaha of Mahana to be an impostor,
who had heard of the death of the real Kaha and audaciously assumed
her name and rank. He then challenged Mahana to produce the woman
claiming to be Kaha, agreeing to forfeit his life should she prove in
flesh and blood to be the one whom he knew to be dead, and subjecting
Mahana to a like penalty in the event of the claimant proving to be
other than the person he represented her to be.
It had been the purpose of Mahana to provoke his rival to a combat
with weapons, but the challenge of Kauhi presented itself as a more
satisfactory means of accomplishing the object of his aim, and he
promptly accepted it; and, that both might be more firmly bound to its
conditions, they were repeated and formally ratified in the presence
of the king and principal chiefs of the district.
The day fixed for the strange trial arrived. It was to be in the
presence of the king and a number of distinguished chiefs, and Akaaka,
the grandfather of Kaha, had been selected as one of the judges. Imus
had been erected near the sea-shore by the respective friends of the
contestants, in which to roast alive the vanquished chief, and dry
wood for the heating was piled beside them.
Fearing that the spirit of the murdered girl might be able to assume a
living appearance, and thus impose upon the judges, Kauhi had consulted
the priests and sorcerers of his family, and was advised by Kaea to
have the large and tender leaves of the ape plant spread upon the
ground where Kaha and her attendants before the tribunal were to be
seated. "When she enters," said the kaula, "watch her closely. If
she is of flesh her weight will rend the leaves; if she is merely a
spirit the leaves where she walks and sits will not be torn."
On her way to Waikiki, the place designated for the trial, Kaha
was accompanied by her parents, friends and servants, and also
by the two spirit-sisters of Mahana, who had assumed human forms
in order to be better able to advise and assist her, if occasion
required. They informed her of Kaea's proposed test with ape leaves,
and advised her to quietly tear and rend them as far as possible for
some distance around her, in order that the spirit-friends beside her,
who would be unable to do as much for themselves, might thereby escape
detection. If discovered, they would be exposed to the risk of being
killed by the poe-poi-uhane, or spirit-catchers.
Arriving at Waikiki, Kaha and her companions repaired to the large
enclosure in which the trial was to take place. The king, chiefs,
judges and advisers of Kauhi were already there, and thousands of
spectators were assembled in the grounds adjoining. The ape leaves
had been spread, by the consent of the king, as advised by Kaea, and
Kaha entered with her friends and advanced to the place reserved for
them. Not far from her stood Kauhi. As he bent forward in anxiety and
looked into her star-like eyes, with a sinking heart he saw that their
reproachful gleam was human, and knew that he had lost the wager of
his life.
Observing her instructions, Kaha took pains to quietly rend and rumple
the ape leaves under and around her. So far as she was concerned,
the test was satisfactory. The evidence of the leaves torn by her
feet could not be questioned. Kaea was therefore compelled to admit
that Kaha was a being of flesh and bone; but in his disappointment he
declared that he saw and felt the presence of spirits in some manner
connected with her, and would detect and punish them.
Irritated at the malice of the kaula, Akaaka advised him to look
for the faces of the spirits in an open calabash of water. Eagerly
grasping at the suggestion, Kaea ordered a vessel of clear water to
be brought in, and incautiously bent his eyes over it. He saw only
the reflection of his own face. Akaaka also caught a glimpse of it,
and, knowing it to be the spirit of the seer, he seized and crushed
it between his palms, and Kaea fell dead to the earth beside the
calabash into which he had been peering.
Akaaka then turned and embraced Kaha, acknowledging that she was
his granddaughter, and that her purity and obedience rendered her
worthy of the love of the bold upland of Akaaka, and of her parents,
the Wind and Rain of Manoa.
The curiosity of the king was aroused, and he demanded an explanation
of the strange proceedings he had just witnessed. Kaha told her
simple story, and Kauhi, on being interrogated, could deny no part of
it. As an excuse for his barbarous conduct, however, he repeated, and
attributed his jealous rage to, the boastful assertions of Kumauna
and Keawaawakiihelei. The slanderers were sent for at once, and,
on being confronted by Kaha, admitted that they had never seen her
before, and that they had boasted of their intimacy with her to make
others envious of their good fortune.
"Well," replied the king, after listening to the confessions of the
miscreants, "as your efforts in exciting the envy of others have
brought terrible suffering to an innocent girl, I now promise you
something of which no one, I think, will envy you. You will be baked
alive with Kauhi! If you have friends among the gods, pray to them
that the imus may be hot and your sufferings short!"
The imus were ordered to be heated at once, and Kauhi and the two
calumniators were thrown into them alive and roasted. The first went
to his death bravely, chanting a song of defiance as he proceeded to
the place of execution, but the others vainly struggled and sought
to escape. The retainers of Kauhi were so disgusted with his cruelty
to Kaha that they transferred their allegiance to her, and the lands
and fishing rights that had been his were given to Mahana at once.
"And how do you intend to reward the young chief who hazarded his
life for you?" inquired the king, pleasantly addressing Kaha as he
rose to depart.
"With my own, O king!" replied the girl, advancing to Mahana and
laying her head upon his breast.
"So shall it be, indeed," returned the king. "I have said it, and
you are now the wife of Mahana."
In his gratitude the happy young chief threw himself at the feet of
the king and said:
"I am your slave, great king! Demand of me some great service or
sacrifice, that you may know that I am grateful!"
"Even as you desire," returned the king, "I will put you to a task
that will tax to the utmost your patience."
"I listen, O king!" said Mahana, resolutely.
"The sacrifice I ask," resumed the king, with a merry twinkle in
his eye, "is that for full three days from this time you embrace not
your bride."
"A sacrifice, indeed!" exclaimed Mahana, catching the kindly humor of
the request, and slyly glancing at the downcast face of Kaha. "It is--"
"Too great, I see, for one whose beard is not yet fully grown,"
interrupted the king. "Well, I withdraw the request. The girl is yours;
take her with you without conditions!"
Here the story of the trials of Kaha should end; but it does not. Some
time during the night following the death of Kauhi a tidal wave,
sent by a powerful shark-god, swept over and destroyed the imus
in which the condemned men had been roasted, and their bones were
carried into the sea. Through the power of their family gods Kumauna
and Keawaawakiihelei were transformed into two peaks in the mountains
back of Manoa Valley while Kauhi, who was distantly related to the
shark-god, was turned into a shark.
For two years Kaha and her husband lived happily together, surrounded
by many friends and enjoying every comfort. Her grandfather, Akaaka,
visited her frequently, and, knowing of Kauhi's transformation and
vindictive disposition, admonished her to avoid the sea. For two years
she heeded the warning; but one day, when her husband was absent and
her mother was asleep, she ventured with one of her women to the
beach to witness the sports of the bathers and surf-riders. As no
harm came to the swimmers, and the water was inviting, she finally
borrowed a surf-board, and, throwing herself joyfully into the waves,
was carried beyond the reef.
This was the opportunity for which Kauhi had long waited. Seizing
Kaha, and biting her body in twain, he swam around with the head and
shoulders exposed above the water, that the bathers might note his
triumph. The spirit of Kaha at once returned to the sleeping mother
and informed her of what had befallen her daughter. Waking and missing
Kaha, the mother gave the alarm, and with others immediately proceeded
to the beach. The bathers, who had fled from the water on witnessing
the fate of Kaha, confirmed the words of the spirit, and canoes were
launched in pursuit of the shark, still exhibiting his bloody trophy
beyond the reef.
Swimming with the body of Kaha just far enough below the surface to
be visible to the occupants of the canoes, the monster was followed
to Waianae, where in shallow waters he was seen, with other sharks,
to completely devour the remains. This rendered her restoration to
life impossible, and the pursuing party returned sadly to Waikiki.
With the final death of Kaha her parents relinquished their human lives
and retired to Manoa Valley. The father is known as Manoa Wind, and
his visible form is a small grove of hau trees below Kahaiamano. The
mother is recognized as Manoa Rain, and is often met with in the
vicinity of the former home of her beloved and beautiful daughter.
The grandparents of Kaha also abandoned their human forms, Akaaka
resuming his personation of the mountain spur bearing his name, and
his august companion nestling upon his brow in the shape of a thicket
of lehua bushes. And there, among the clouds, they still look down
upon Kahaiamano and the fair valley of Manoa, and smile at the rains
of Kauahuahine, which day by day renew their beauty, and keep green
with ferns and sweet with flowers the earthly home of Kahalaopuna.
APPENDIX.
HAWAIIAN LEGENDS: GLOSSARY.
EXPLANATORY NOTE.
The Hawaiian alphabet proper contains but twelve letters, five vowels
and seven consonants, namely: A, E, I, O, U, H, K, L, M, N, P, W. To
these are sometimes added R, T and B. No appreciable distinction,
however, is observed between the sounds of R and L, T and K, and B
and P.
The almost invariable sound of A is as pronounced in father; of E as
in they; of I as in marine; of O as in mole; of U as in mute. The only
general deviation is in giving the vowels long and short sounds. W
takes the sound of V in most cases.
Every word and every syllable of the language ends in a vowel, and
no two consonants occur without a vowel sound between them.
The accent of nine-tenths of the words in the language is on the
penultimate.
The indefinite article is he; the definite article ka or ke; the
plural takes the prefix of na.
The "O" beginning the metrical lines of chants and meles is not
always employed as an interjection. It is used chiefly as a prefix
to personal nouns and pronouns in the nominative case.
A.
Aa, the root of any vegetation.
Ae, the affirmative; yes.
Ao, light.
Aaakoko, a vein or artery.
Auwina la, afternoon.
Akane, an intimate friend.
Aole, the negative; no.
Ai, food of any kind.
Auhau, any tax due to a chief.
Au, a current; the gale.
Auwae, the chin.
Aumoe, midnight.
Aouli, the sky.
Aumakua, the spirit of a deceased ancestor.
Ailo, chiefs permitted to eat with the king.
Ahiahi, evening.
Aha-alii, chiefs of accepted and irrevocable rank.
Aha, a sacred tabu prayer, during which any noise was death.
Ahi, fire.
Ahinahina, the color of gray.
Aka, a shadow.
Akua, a spirit or god.
Akepaa, the liver.
Akemama, the lungs.
Aku, a mythical bird, sacred to the high priesthood.
Ala, a path, road or way.
Ala-nui, a great path.
Alaula, the red path; the dawn.
Aho, a breath.
Aha-ula, a feather cape worn by chiefs.
Alae, a sacred bird.
Alii-koa, a military leader; a general.
Aloha, love; love to you; a greeting or salutation.
Alii, a chief.
Alii-nui, a great or principal chief.
Alii-niaupio, Alii-pio, Alii-naha, Alii-wohi and Lo-alii, different
grades of chiefs.
Anu, a receptacle in the inner temple from which issued the oracles.
Anaana, the process of praying another to death.
Anuenue, a rainbow.
Ana, a cave or cavern.
Apapani, a little song-bird.
Awa, a plant; an intoxicating drink made of awa; a harbor.
Awakea, noon.
E.
Ea, breath; air; a fish tabu to women.
Eleele, black, or dark blue.
Eha, pain.
I.
Ia, general name for fish.
Ie, a vine for decorating idols.
Iu, a sacred or tabued place.
Ihe, a javelin used in war.
Io, the human flesh.
Ihimanu, a fish tabu to women.
Ihu, the nose.
Iku-nuu, of the royal strain.
Iku-pau, of the priestly or sacred strain.
Ili, the smallest division of land; the bark; the skin.
Imu, an oven for cooking.
Ilio, a dog; a stingy person.
Imu-loa, an oven for baking men.
Ipu, a calabash; a vessel; a container.
Iliahi, sandal-wood.
Iwi, a small bird with yellow feathers; the bone.
O.
O, a fork, or pointed implement used in eating.
Oo, a bird with yellow feathers, used in making royal mantles.
Oa, the rafters of a house.
Oi-e, a name for the godhead.
Oala, a club thrown in battle.
Ohia, a native apple-tree; the fruit of the ohia.
Ohia-apane, a species of ohia wood used in making idols.
Oho, hair.
Ohu, fog.
Oho-kui, a bushy wig sometimes worn in battle.
Ola, life.
Omaomao, green.
One, sand.
Onionio, striped.
Olai, an earthquake.
Onini, a surf-board.
Omo, a narrow stone adze.
Oma, a space between two armies where sacrifices were made; the prime
minister, or first officer under the king.
Opelu, a fish sacred to the priesthood.
Opu, the stomach.
Owili, a surf-board made of wiliwili wood.
U.
Ua, a sea-bird; rain.
Uau, a large marine bird.
Uala, a potato.
Uila, lightning.
Uha, the thigh.
Uhi, a yam.
Ulu, the bread-fruit.
Ukeke, an ancient pulsatile musical instrument.
Ulili, a bamboo flute.
Uliuia, a beer made of cane-juice or the ti root.
Ulu-maika, a game of rolling round stone disks.
Ulaula, red; the sacred color.
Uliuli, blue.
Ulunu, a pillow or head-rest.
Unauna, a tabu mark.
Unihipili, the spirit of a deceased person.
Umiumi, the beard or whiskers.
H.
Hanai, a foster-child.
Haiao, a day sacrifice.
Haole, a foreigner.
Hanuhanu, an ancient pastime.
Hala, the pandanus-tree.
Hakaolelo, a chief's spy; informer; reporter of events.
Haa, a singing dance.
Haipo, a night sacrifice.
Haku, a lord; a master.
Hakoko, wrestling, with a variety of holds.
Hailima, the elbow.
Hanauna, a relative.
Hale, a house or dwelling.
Hale-alii, the house of the chief; the royal mansion.
Hale-lole, a tent or cloth house.
Hale-koa, a fort or house of war.
Hale-lua, a grave or sepulchre.
Haili, a ghost; a name for a temple.
Hawane, the cocoa palm.
Hau, a lascivious dance, or hula.
Hekili, thunder.
Heenalu, surf-riding.
Heihei, foot-racing; a large drum.
Heie, the servant of a seer who reported his prophecies.
Heiau, a temple or place of worship.
Hikiee-moe, the stand for a bed.
Hia, fire made by friction.
Hika-po-loa, a name for the godhead.
Hiua, a game played on a board with four squares.
Hiiaka, a general name for volcanic deities.
Hikini, sunrise; the east.
Hili, a dye, made of barks, for coloring kapa.
Hoa, a companion.
Hoalii, a companion of the chief.
Hoku, a star.
Hoku-paa, the north star.
Hoku-hele, a planet or "wandering star."
Hoku-lele, a meteor.
Hoku-welowelo, a comet.
Honua, the earth.
Holua, the pastime of sliding down precipitous hills on sledges.
Hoao, the ancient marriage contract among the chiefs.
Hoalauna, a friendly companion.
Hoe, a paddle.
Hoeuli, a rudder or steering-oar.
Hoewaa, an oarsman.
Hooilo, the rainy season.
Hookama, an adopted child.
Hokio, a musical instrument.
Honu, a turtle.
Hookupu, gifts to chiefs by their subjects.
Hoopalau, a single combat in battle.
Hua, an egg.
Hue, a water-calabash or container.
Hula, a dance, of which there were many varieties.
Hulu, a feather.
Hulumanu, aids of a chief or king wearing plumes.
K.
Kaai, a girdle put around the loins of a god by a chief.
Kao, the star Antares.
Kaunoa, a pointed, poisonous shell, making a dangerous wound.
Kapu, or Tabu, a command, or interdict, of which there were several
kinds; a prerogative pertaining to chiefs, priests and temples.
Kane, a husband; the name of one of the godhead.
Kauwa, a servant.
Kai, the sea.
Kaa-i, the neck.
Kanaka, a man; a male.
Kanaka-wale, a private citizen.
Kanaka-maoli, an actual slave.
Kaikamahine, a girl or daughter.
Kaiki-kane, a male child.
Kaikunane, a brother.
Kaikuahine, a sister.
Kaliko, spotted.
Kaioloa, the ceremony of putting a maro on a god by the women of
a chief.
Kaumaha, a sacrifice to the gods.
Kaumihau, a tabu by the high-priest, when a hog was baked, and men
were temporarily separated from their wives.
Kakuai, an offering to the gods at daily meals, generally of bananas.
Kahoaka, the spirit of a living person, claimed to be visible to
certain classes of priests.
Kamakini, a tabu worship for the chief alone.
Kaula, a prophet.
Kaula-wahine, a prophetess.
Kao, a tradition; a dart or javelin.
Kaua, war; a battle; an army marching to battle.
Kaualau, a plantain.
Kakaka, a bow for shooting arrows, not used in war.
Kaukaualii, inferior chiefs with titled fathers and untitled mothers.
Kanikau, a funeral dirge; a mournful song.
Kapa, a native cloth.
Kalo, or Taro, a bulbous root from which poi is made.
Kahili, a standard of feathers; an emblem of high rank.
Kani, music.
Kahuna, a priest, doctor or sorcerer.
Kahu, a nurse or guardian of a child.
Kahu-alii, chiefs of the lesser nobility acting as personal attendants
to the king.
Kapua, a wizard.
Kaike, a large sacrificial drum.
Kamaa, sandals.
Kapuna, a grandparent.
Kapuna-kah'ko, ancestors.
Kau, the dry season.
Keiki, a child.
Keena, a room or apartment.
Keokeo, white.
Kekuielua, a war implement.
Kino, the body.
Kilo, a prophet.
Kihi, the native sweet potato.
Kilu, an indoor game of amusement.
Kihei, a cloth worn over the shoulders.
Konane, a game resembling draughts.
Koa, coral; a species of wood; a warrior.
Koilipi, an axe for cutting stone.
Ko, sugar-cane.
Koelo, a garden of a chief, cultivated by his people.
Koheoheo, a poisonous mixture producing speedy death.
Koipohaku, a stone axe.
Koloa, a duck.
Kona, a south wind; the south side of an island.
Koolau, a windward district or division.
Kua, the back of a person.
Kuli, the knee.
Kuekue, the heel.
Kumu, a fish tabu to women.
Kuoha, a prayer to incite sexual love in another.
Kupua, a sorcerer.
Kuai, a war implement.
Kuleana, a small landed possession within the boundaries of an estate
belonging to another.
Kupee, a string of shells; a bracelet; an ornament.
Kuahive, high lands.
Kumu, a teacher.
Kuahana, a war messenger despatched when a general call to arms
was made.
Kukui, a light; a torch made from the nuts of the kukui tree.
L.
Laau, a tree; wood.
Lau, a leaf.
Lala, a limb.
Lae, the forehead.
La, the sun.
Lani, the heavens.
Laau-palau, a knife used in husbandry, sometimes in war.
Lanahu, coals.
Lanai, a veranda, or house with open sides.
Lehelehe, the lips.
Lenalena, yellow, the royal color.
Lei, a wreath of flowers or feathers.
Lepa, a flag or ensign.
Lehua, an aromatic shrub.
Liliha, the fat of hogs.
Loko, a lake or pond.
Lima, the hand.
Lou, a hook; a fish-hook.
Loulu, a cocoanut.
Luawai, a well.
Luakina, the house of sacrifice in a temple.
Luau, a feast.
Lua, an ancient practice of killing by breaking bones.
Luna, an overseer.
Lunapai, a war messenger of a king or chief.
M.
Maa, a sling for throwing stones.
Mahu, steam.
Maiuu, the finger-nails.
Mahioli, a feather helmet worn by chiefs.
Maili, a fragrant and greatly esteemed plant.
Mauka, toward the hills or mountains.
Malama, a month; a purveyor in traveling.
Mapuna, a spring.
Maka, the eye.
Manamana-lima, a finger.
Manamana-wawae, a toe.
Manu, general name for birds.
Makuakane, a father or uncle.
Makuahine, a mother or aunt.
Mahini, the moon.
Mahini-hou, the new moon.
Mahini-peopeo, the full moon.
Makani, the wind.
Makani-ino, a storm.
Makalii, the beginning of the Hawaiian new year.
Maliu, a deified deceased chief.
Maia, a general name for plantains and bananas, tabu to women.
Malaolao, evening twilight.
Mano, the shark; every species was tabu to women.
Makaainani, the common people.
Maro, a cloth worn around the loins of males.
Mamo, a bird; a royal feather mantle; descendants.
Manele, a palanquin for chiefs, with four bearers.
Mahele, circumcision.
Mahana, chiefs near the throne.
Mele, an historical chant or song.
Mele-inoa, a personal chant or song.
Moa, a fowl.
Moo, a lizard.
Maikai, toward the sea.
Mooolelo, a narrative of past events.
Mookaao, an historical legend.
Moko, boxing.
Moko-moko, a boxer.
Momi, a pearl.
Moae, the trade winds.
Moi, a king, or principal chief.
Mu, the person who procured men for sacrifice.
Muliwai, a stream, or river.
Mumuku, a violent gust of wind.
N.
Naua, a pedigree.
Nene, a goose.
Niu, the cocoanut tree and fruit.
Ninalo, the fruit of the hala tree.
Noho, a seat.
P.
Pa, a dish or platter; a fence or wall.
Pau, a short skirt worn by women; completed, finished.
Pahale, a lawn or other enclosure.
Pahu, a general name for a drum.
Papa, a board; a sledge used in the pastime of holua.
Papalina, the cheek.
Paliuli, paradise.
Pahi, general term for a knife or cutting instrument.
Pakiko, an ancient war implement.
Palala, any tax paid to a chief.
Panalaau, a distant possession of lands.
Papapaina, a table of any kind.
Pahoa, a dagger, generally of wood.
Palaoa, a carved ivory talisman worn around the neck by chiefs.
Pali, a precipice.
Paiai, pounded taro for making poi.
Pahoehoe, lava.
Pawa, a garden; a small cultivated field.
Pea, an elevated cross before a heiau, signifying sacred.
Peleleu, a large double war canoe.
Pepeiao, the ear.
Pipi, an oyster; clam; shell-fish.
Poi, the paste of taro.
Po'i, a cover or lid.
Poo, the head.
Poohiwi, the shoulder.
Poni, purple.
Pokahu, a stone.
Pouli ka la, an eclipse.
Po, night; darkness; the realms of death; chaos.
Pola, a raised platform over double canoes.
Pololu, a long war spear.
Pua, a flower.
Puka, a door.
Puuwai, the heart.
Puaa, a hog.
Puaa-keiki, a pig.
Puahiohio, a whirlwind.
Puhenehene, an indoor pastime.
Punipeki, a child's game.
Pueo, an owl.
Puana, a leader in meles; a starter of words.
Pukaua, an officer in the army; a captain; a champion.
Pule, a prayer.
Pulelelua, a butterfly.
Punahele, a friend or companion.
Puloulou, a tabu staff, crowned with balls of kapa.
Puuku, inferior chiefs, personal attendants of the king.
W.
Waa, a general name for canoe.
Wai, a general name for water.
Waiali, the platform from which chiefs addressed the people.
Wahine, a woman; females generally.
Wahi-moe, a bed.
Wahie, wood for burning.
Wanaao, the dawn.
Wawae, a leg or foot.
Waipuilani, a waterspout.
Wauti, the inner bark of a tree from which cloth is made.
Wahine-hoao, the real wife.
Wili, lightning.
Wiliwili, a light wood from which surf-boards were made.
CARDINAL NUMBERS.
One, Akahi.
Two, Alua.
Three, Akolu.
Four, Aha.
Five, Alima.
Six, Aono.
Seven, Ahiku.
Eight, Awalu.
Nine, Aiwa.
Ten, Umi.
Eleven, Umikumamakahi.
Twelve, Umikumamalua.
Thirteen, Umikumamakolu.
Fourteen, Umikumamaha.
Fifteen, Umikumamalima.
Sixteen, Umikumamaono.
Seventeen, Umikumamahiku.
Eighteen, Umikumamawalu.
Nineteen, Umikumamaiwa.
Twenty, Iwakalua.
Twenty-one, Iwakaluakumamakahi.
Twenty-two, Iwakaluakumamalua.
Twenty-three, Iwakaluakumamakolo.
Twenty-four, Iwakaluakumamaha.
Twenty-five, Iwakaluakumamalima.
Twenty-six, Iwakaluakumamaono.
Twenty-seven, Iwakaluakumamahiku.
Twenty-eight, Iwakaluakumamawalu.
Twenty-nine, Iwakaluakumamaiwa.
Thirty, Kanakolu.
Forty, Kanaha.
Fifty, Kanalima.
Sixty, Kanaono.
Seventy, Kanahiku.
Eighty, Kanawalu.
Ninety, Kanaiwa.
One hundred, Hookahi haneri (modern).
One thousand, Hookahi tausani (modern).
NAMES OF THE MONTHS.
January, Makalii.
February, Kaelo.
March, Kaulua.
April, Nana.
May, Welo.
June, Ikiiki.
July, Kaaona.
August, Hinaieleele.
September, Hilinehu.
October, Hilinama.
November, Ikuwa.
December, Welehu.
NAMES OF THE DAYS OF THE MONTH.
1st, Hilo.
2d, Hoaka.
3d, Kukahi.
4th, Kulua.
5th, Kukolo.
6th, Kupau.
7th, Olekukahi.
8th, Olekulua.
9th, Olekukolu.
10th, Olekupau.
11th, Huna.
12th, Mohalu.
13th, Hua.
14th, Akua.
15th, Hoku.
16th, Mahealani.
17th, Kulu.
18th, Laaukukahi.
19th, Laaukulua.
20th, Laaupau.
21st, Olekukahi.
22d, Olekulua.
23d, Olepau.
24th, Kaloakukahi.
25th, Kaloakulua.
26th, Kaloapau.
27th, Kane.
28th, Lono.
29th, Mauli.
30th, Muku.
NOTE
[1] The Princess Likelike died February 2, 1887.
*** End of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "The Legends and Myths of Hawaii - The fables and folk-lore of a strange people" ***
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