Part 5

A company stood before the victorious Kalanikapule. The chief was reclining upon a heap of ferns, with a crowd of runners, diviners, priests, _hula_-dancers, and _kahili_-bearers around him. The eyes of all, however, were fixed upon two bruised and bleeding forms which made the center of the company before the king. The chiefs, with their spears and gorgeous feather capes, the priests with their red cloaks and white wands were vigorously declaiming before the king. They seemed unanimous as they clamored for the death of Kahulu.

“O Kalanikapule,” cried the chiefs, “we have brought hither the rebel to die. His head is forfeit to the king, and the gods desire to drink his blood. We took him--the slayer of our brethren--the right hand of Kaeo--we took him in the battle. We bound him fast, foot to foot, hand to hand, his neck between his knees, and we were bearing him to your feet. But while we rested, for it was night, and we were in the mountains, came this woman, who assuredly fought by his side in the battle and died before our eyes--came this woman, we say, even as from the dead, and loosed his bands and helped him to escape from our hands. Verily, had not thy servants been keen-sighted as the hawk, and very wakeful, they--the guilty ones--had reached the _puuhonua_, and had now been in peace. But, O king, be this remembered to our good: thy servants were swifter than the fleet dogs of the _haole_ and outstripped the rebels, that Kaili and all the gods may become pleasant towards thee, when they see the flesh of men smoking on their altars in the _heiau_.”

And the priests added to the voice of the chiefs: “_Ai!_ we have sharpened the _pahoa_ and heated the oven for Kahulu. He did not reach the _puuhonua_, but fell before the very threshold--such was the will of the gods! Therefore he must die! Is it not death for the defeated one who reaches not the city of refuge?”

* * * * *

Then the king--with a light playing across his features such as no man had seen before--answered and said:

“Set Kahulu free! Verily, he reached the _puuhonua_, for there is no city of refuge like that of a woman’s love.”

And the priests and the chiefs stood silent, but the people shouted greatly at the decree of Kalanikapule.

VIII

SWEET LEILEHUA

What the rose is to England and the lily to France is the _Lehua_ to Hawaii _nei_. When the maidens lying on the beach of coral sand or beneath the _lauhala_ palms touch their guitars and sing the _meles_ of times gone by, it is of “Sweet Leilehua” that they sing. And when they would inspire departing visitors with happy memories of the mid-ocean Paradise they twine around their necks the fragrant wreaths of _maile_ and _lehua_.

And the beautiful flower well deserves its place as the emblem of Hawaii. Almost all over the country, anywhere between fifteen hundred and six thousand feet above sea-level, you may see its scarlet blossoms flashing in the sun. Here it is slender and graceful, like the island maidens, a shrub some fifteen feet high; there a tree of a hundred feet, strong and tall, like the island men. Men say that the higher up the trees grow the finer are the blossoms, and certainly where the white man’s foot has trodden least the _lehua_ seems most at home.

“Sweet Leilehua” has a lover who is as the nightingale to the rose--the _olokele_, a bright little scarlet bird, whose life’s happiness it is to drink honey from the scarlet flower. You can scarcely distinguish bird from blossom. The tree seems alive with flashing wings.

But, alas! civilization has doomed the _olokele_, and perhaps the _lehua_. Is it true, also, that their human counterparts in the youth and maidenhood of Hawaii are going, too?

The following tale of Leilehua and Hakuole is a tale of over a hundred years ago. Still the maidens sing it, still men remember it; but where now is there an _olokele_ so bold in his love for the _lehua_ as was Hakuole, the chief of Oahu?

* * * * *

Hakuole stood on Leahi gazing earnestly seawards or turning his eyes occasionally to the left, in the direction of Koko Head and Makapuu. The sun never shone upon a fairer scene than that upon which he looked. Down below lay the glistening white beach of Waikiki, fringed a few yards from the water with dense thickets of _hau_ trees, whose short, crooked trunks, glossy leaves and showy yellow flowers were a welcome relief to the eye from the coral sand. In the blue-green waters which stretched out to the horizon there was only the break of the white reef on which the Pacific waves rolled with thunderous noise, and here and there a fishing boat in which the fishers sat silent with uplifted spear. Leahi, on which the chieftain stood, rose like a crouching lion from the seashore, its lava slopes almost bare of vegetation save for a few straggling indigo bushes, while in the crater behind Hakuole was a large swamp surrounded by rushes and patched here and there with the white wings of flocking sea-birds.

The chief was in the very prime of youth, and his figure showed to advantage on the rocky promontory against the sky. He had upon his head the usual helmet of yellow feathers, on his shoulders a small feather cloak, and the rest of his dress was of dark brown _kapa_. He had a necklace of shells and shark’s teeth round his neck and a heavy spear of _Kauila_ wood in his hand. It was easy to see by his erect and martial bearing that he was an _alii_, whose pedigree was uncontaminated by mixture with the common people, and his training had been the training of a warrior.

And warriors were needed now, for the great Kamehameha was on his way from Apani to attempt the conquest of Oahu, and so complete the subjugation of the Eight Islands. Hawaii was his from Kalae to Upolo. Maui had in vain gathered its warriors to meet him. And now the news had come that Kamehameha was on his way to Oahu. He had embarked with the veterans of his army and the fleet of war canoes was fast lessening the distance between him and his last great rival, Kalanikapule.

Meanwhile Kalanikapule was not to be caught napping. The flower of his army was assembled on the south side of the island: watchmen were stationed on Makapuu, Koko Head and Leahi, and for the last two nights the waves had been illumined by a constant burning of _papala_ sticks. But so far no sign of the war prows of the great _alii_ had been discovered.

Hakuole at his lonely post wished they would appear, to terminate the awful suspense. With eyes still turned seaward he flung himself down wearily on the ground in the shade of a dark-foliaged _milo_, whose quivering aspen-like leaves seemed, like his own heart, apprehensive of the trouble to come. He was in love; he longed to declare his passion, to lead his bride to the house he had prepared for her. But what could he do? This horrible conflict was impending, and who could say what would be the result? Kamehameha, the unconquered Kamehameha, was at hand: a bloody battle would be fought. Who would win? Who was even sure of surviving?

In this dismal strain ran his thoughts, when suddenly the bushes behind him parted and a face peered through, timidly advancing and then retreating amid the leaves. It was a beautiful face--with great, soft brown eyes gleaming like evening stars from the dusky olive skin, a face surrounded by thick masses of wavy hair of raven blackness, a face full of warm blood and passionate life. It belonged to no other than Leilehua.

Sweet Leilehua!--who among the maidens of Oahu was more loved than she, the daughter of the great _kahuna_, the priest of Lono?

When the maidens sat by the streams and beat out the _kapa_ with their mallets on the broad, flat boulders, whose song was merrier than hers? Or who was obeyed so devotedly by all? If Hakuole’s love was returned, happy was he among men; but if Leilehua thought not of him, there was no other maiden in the land who could solace him for her loss.

Hakuole turned, and his face changed when he saw her. As the sun, when it shines opposite the mists of Pauoa, spans the valleys with double rainbows, so the face of Leilehua brought brightness to the darkness of Hakuole’s brow. He was again the chieftain in the pride of his manhood, the bravest, the strongest of the young _aliis_. Raising himself and stretching out his eager arms towards the maiden, he cried: “Leilehua, my Leilehua, my beautiful scarlet flower!” But even as he spoke the graceful form vanished, dropping at his feet a wreath of brilliant _lehua_.

Had he been too impetuous and frightened her away? Had she dropped the _lei_ in her haste? Or had she designedly left it for him? He would follow her and see; but his face was no longer troubled, for he had felt the light of Leilehua’s eyes, and he knew she loved him. He had her sweet floral namesake on his neck; he was strong as Kamehameha himself; he would conquer now and live for love.

But for the present he would follow her, or would she escape him?

“_E ala, e ala, e ala-a-a-a----_”

Loud and shrill came the voice of the lonely watcher far to his left, and then shriller still, like the harsh shriek of sea-birds, followed blasts from the conch-shell trumpets which woke all the echoes of the dead old crater, and sent the gulls clangorous and protesting from their marshy resting-place to fill the air, hitherto so still, with noise and motion. And as the upper element was thus suddenly awakened into life, so the waves below became, almost in another moment, ridged with foam in a hundred places. Where the sunbeams had slept placidly on an unbroken surface of azure, they were now reflected hither and thither by the black sides of canoes, the flashing of outriggers, the sheen of polished metal, the scarlet and yellow of innumerable feather cloaks, the glittering of oars amid the spray-rain, the gleaming of dusky bodies, and the forward leap of the high prows, whose painted eyes seemed to glow with the fire of life. And in advance was the famous double war canoe Peleleu, the rowers straining at the oars, and the _kahili_-bearers and warriors standing around the mighty chief who was destined to make Hawaii a nation.

On they came, nearing the flat beach of Waikiki, where unless Kalanikapule opposed, they could enter the coral reef and land without impediment. But Kalanikapule chose to meet his rival in the heart of the country among the _palis_, rather than on the level ground; so, though from Leahi you could have seen the moving of dark masses of men among the forests of the southern side of the island, there was no sign on the beach of opposition to the landing of the Hawaiian troops.

Hakuole hastened to his post in the army, but he did not forget Leilehua, for her gift was around his neck.

* * * * *

Of the strife that followed, with all its thrilling episodes, we must forbear to speak. How Kalanikapule collected his forces in the Nuuanu Pali; how Kamehameha followed him with his veterans, driving him to the ridge of the island; how the traitor Kaiana met his doom; how Kamehameha’s white men brought into battle the red-mouthed guns which made the thunder roll among the mountains; how the fight raged on till the awful precipice was reached, from which men poured down in a living avalanche to the rocks below; how at last Kamehameha drew back his victorious troops into the lower country, where the loud “_Auwe_” of the women rent the air in wailing for their husbands and fathers--all these are stories by themselves.

Kamehameha knew himself at last lord of the Eight Islands from Niihau to Hawaii.

* * * * *

It was a day of great mourning in Oahu. In every house there was wailing and rending of hair for the warriors transfixed by the sharp spears or battered to death on the rocks of the Nuuanu Pali. But they had fought well, they were gone to Paliuli, the blue mountain, to the land of the divine water of Kane, and as the sun set men saw the great procession of the dead in the western sky leaving the earth forever by the road of the gods. But when the sun rose again in the east they turned their thoughts to the living and the day. What now would be their fate? Kamehameha would hold his court; he would receive the homage of the conquered people; he would expect his _hookana_ or tribute. “Let us hasten,” they said, “to propitiate the new king.” So all prepared to go with their gifts. Prominent among these was Kamakahou, the father of Leilehua. He had known of Hakuole’s love and had been himself disposed to accept him for a son-in-law, but he was a sycophant and a schemer. As a _kahuna_ he had been among the advisers of the fallen chiefs, and his reputation for learning was great. He knew the five planets and suspected the existence of a sixth; he knew all the _kapu_ days, the holy seasons and the prescribed ordinances; he could prepare lustral waters to drive away diseases and demons. He was proficient in all the ten branches of priestly lore, and could even cause the spirits of the dead to enter the body of a person and possess it. He was skilled, moreover, in the preparation of medicines, and could cure toothache and bruises and broken bones.

But with all his learning he was avaricious and preferred the favor of the king to the approval of his conscience. So he prepared his gift and went.

The court of Kamehameha was held in the open air, the royal pavilion consisting of a raised couch of ferns over which a slight _lanai_ had been built of _lauhala_ palms. The king reclined at his ease. Beside him stood the royal _kahili_-bearers waving their huge feather brushes. Close by stood the _pukanas_, or trumpeters, with gorgeous headgear and capes. Near these stood the _kukini_, or runners, the _kahunas_, with tabu-sticks, while the _hula_-girls with instruments of music squatted a little to the left. In the midst of the _kahunas_, on a carpet of red cloth was the famous war god of Kamehameha, Kaili, whose shriek could be heard above the din of battle. It was of wickerwork decorated with small feathers, its eyes made of large oyster shells and mouth ornamented by a double row of dog’s fangs.

Before the king the gifts lay in piles--calabashes of rare wood, logs of _iliahi_, or sandalwood, rolls of curiously wrought _kapa_, pigs, dogs, cocoanuts, sweet potatoes, seaweeds, shrimps, _papai_, _opelo_, _awa_, and many another costly article of dress, or dainty morsel of food.

Finally, when Kamehameha seemed a little sated with his _hookana_, came a gift which drew all eyes. They saw Kamakahou leading his daughter Leilehua forward to the presence of the king. “O king,” he cried, “behold the _kaikamahine_; take her, the light of my eyes, and let there be peace between us.”

The maiden, who had advanced reluctantly, stood timidly before the couch, her face hid in her hands. The black tresses fell down her back in great coils, rippling over her dusky shoulders and falling to the skirt of yellow _kapa_ which was fastened around her waist. On her head was a wreath of the scarlet flowers from which she took her name; on her wrists and ankles bracelets of sea-shells, and on her breast the ivory emblem suspended by the mystic three hundred braids of human hair.

Only a moment she stood, and then, weeping, sank on her knees, let her hands fall from her face, and with pleading eyes gazed into the king’s face. Kamehameha, startled at so beauteous a vision, raised himself from the couch and, as he stood erect, clad in the brilliant feather cloak which was the work of ten generations of kings, he seemed a god come down in human form. As he stepped forward to take the hand of the tribute girl, a great shout began--

“_Nani loa! Maikai loa! e----_”

_Began_, I say, but did not finish; for, lo! the circle of spectators parted, and there strode to the side of the weeping maid a young man who lacked but little of the height of Kamehameha himself. He was covered with blood and dust, having almost crawled from the battlefield, but he stood erect now, and he had a torn wreath of flowers around his neck. He did not flinch before the gaze of the king, but caught the hand of Leilehua, lifted her up, and bore her in among the people. It took only a few seconds, but the stillness of death had fallen upon the people. Was Hakuole mad? Had he seen a _lapu_ and been bewitched? Rash man! See the thunder-cloud in the face of the chief who was never crossed with impunity! What fate did the conqueror of Oahu meditate for the man who braved him? Would he be offered as a sacrifice at the _heiau_, or would he be clubbed to death, burned, or buried alive?

Hark! the king raises his voice, and his guards seize the overbold youth and the maiden, hurry them before the dais, and stand ready to carry out whatever sentence of death is imposed.

Leilehua and Hakuole stand before Kamehameha, and they can hear their hearts beat, the people are so quiet.

Then Kamehameha speaks in strong, firm tones, which show the man born for command, but with no touch of immoderate anger. The cloud has gone from his face, but he begins sharply enough:

“_E Hakuole_, so you are tired of life, tired of fighting. You dream already of maiden’s eyes and a life among the _nala_. You would let the prows rot on the beach, seeking no more for the glory a man ought to love. Well, as you mean to stay among the _wahine_, and love a maiden here more than you fear me, I suspend you from a soldier’s duty till the moon Ikiiki returns. Away! and for the girl, Leilehua, the faithful in love, all the lands which were her father’s are hers from henceforth. Take the _kaikamahine_--beautiful is she as the morning breaking the shadows--and may the loves of Leilehua and Hakuole be as glorious to Hawaii as the wars of Kamehameha.”

Kamehameha had indeed won a greater victory than that of Nuuanu Pali, for the hearts of the people, and not their bodies only, were henceforth his forever.

* * * * *

Thus the first of the Seven Kings of Hawaii established his sovereignty and founded a dynasty, and the statue of this “Napoleon of the Pacific” in front of Aliiolani Hale, in Honolulu, will ever attract the reverence of men. Had all the island kings been like the first Kamehameha, Hawaii had never more known the strife of factions.

Hakuole and Leilehua had a long honeymoon, in which they learned depths of love as yet unfathomed. Then they came back to be among the staunchest supporters of the new king. Love grew with the years, and the sweet singers of Hawaii to-day can choose no better theme to bring back the romance of the old barbaric times than the story of sweet Leilehua and her bold lover Hakuole, who for her sake braved the wrath of a king.

IX

THE SPOUTING CAVE OF LANAI

“Over the mountains and under the waves. Over the fountains and under the graves. Over floods that are deepest, Which Neptune obey, Over rocks that are steepest, Love will find out the way.”

--_Old Song._

Readers of Byron will remember, in his poem entitled, “The Island,” the description of a wonderful cavern at Toobanai, the only entrance to which was under the sea. The way by which Neuha guided Torquil to its safe retreat is described as follows:

“Young Neuha plunged into the deep, and he Follow’d; her track beneath the native sea. Was as a native’s of the element, So smoothly, bravely, brilliantly she went, Leaving a streak of light behind her heel, Which struck and flash’d like an amphibious steel. Closely, and scarcely less expert to trace The depths where divers hold the pearl in chase, Torquil, the nursling of the northern seas, Pursued her liquid steps with art and ease. Deep--deeper for an instant Neuha led The way--then upward soar’d--and as she spread Her arms and flung the foam from off her locks Laugh’d and the sound was answered by the rocks. They had gain’d a central realm of earth again, But look’d for tree, and field, and sky in vain. Around she pointed to a spacious cave, Whose only portal was the keyless wave.”

The poet admits having found the original of his submarine cave in Mariner’s “Account of the Tonga Islands,” taking advantage of the license allowed to poets to transplant it to the scene of his poem.

Probably he did not know that there existed in the Hawaiian group a cavern similar to that which he describes, to which attaches a story far more romantic than that of the loves of Torquil and Neuha.

The Puhio-kaala, or Spouting Cave of Kaala, is on the rocky coast of the little island of Lanai, near Kaumalapau Bay. Down below the rocky bluff is that “refuge submarine” where “Nature played with the stalactites, and built herself a chapel of the seas.”

The entrance is marked by the vortex of a whirlpool, from which a column of foam rises up when the tide runs out. He who dared to venture the perils of the entrance would, on gaining his footing below, find himself beneath a “self-born Gothic canopy,”

“A hollow archway by the sun unseen, Save through the billows’ glassy veil of green.”

The pleasure of the diver, however, would be rudely disturbed when he found the cave already occupied by millions of cold-blooded, slimy, shelly, stinging, dank and noisome creatures of the deep. Once, legend says, it was inhabited by the great lizard god, Moalii, but Ukanipo, the shark god, threatened to block up the entrance with rocks if he did not move. Thereupon the cave was left to its present smaller, but no less uncanny tenants.

These were quite sufficient to prevent frequent visits to the cave, though in truth there were few bold and skillful enough to shoot through the whirlpool into its sunless depths, even if inclined.

* * * * *

At the present time Lanai has but a few hundred inhabitants at most, although one of the loveliest islands of the group. But when, over a hundred years ago, Kamehameha, with his court, paid it a brief visit to enjoy an interval of rest and refreshment, he found no fewer than five or six thousand people on the beach to welcome him. Rich and numerous were the presents brought, and among those who offered their gifts was Kaala, “the flower of Lanai,” who strewed flowers no lovelier than herself in the conqueror’s path.