The Project Gutenberg EBook of Six Prize Hawaiian Stories of the Kilohana
Art League, by various authors

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Title: Six Prize Hawaiian Stories of the Kilohana Art League:
       Kalani; A Legend of Haleakala; Peleg Chapman's Sharks;
       'Twas Cupid's Dart; Legend of Hiku i Kanahele; The Story
       of a Brave Woman

Authors: Emma L. Dillingham, Geo. H. De La Vergne,
W. N. Armstrong, J. W. Girvin, The Native


Release Date: March 1, 2011 [EBook #35437]

Language: English

Character set encoding: ASCII

*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SIX PRIZE HAWAIIAN STORIES ***




Produced by David Edwards, Andrew Chesley and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net





Transcriber's note:

This book contains Hawaiian words and some dialect ('sailor's cant/slang';
'Hawaiian English'), which have been retained.

Examples:
"Caught plenty on 'em," said the sailor. "Been around the Horn and up in
the Artic for sperm and right whales. Plenty of lay money too. Down in
Wyhee (Oh-why-hee* = Hawaii) plenty of gals and bananas."

    * or similar spelling, seen on a statue of Captain James Cook,
    k. 1779, Hawaii.

"the redmen to make their home near his hale and they should be aliis
in ... sent his lunapais into every valley and along the sea to summon
the alii...."

Sundry missing of damaged punctuation has been repaired.

The transcriber has corrected typographical errors
  from the original book and listed them at the end of this text.

       *       *       *       *       *




           Hawaiian
           Stories.




           SIX PRIZE

       Hawaiian Stories

            OF THE

      KILOHANA ART LEAGUE


           Honolulu:
    Hawaiian Gazette Company
             1899




CONTENTS


  Kalani--Emma L. Dillingham                       5

  A Legend of Haleakala--Geo. H. De La Vergne     24

  Peleg Chapman's Sharks--W. N. Armstrong         44

  'Twas Cupid's Dart--J. W. Girvin                64

  Legend of Hiku i Kanahele--Mauricio             85

  The Story of a Brave Woman--A Native           104




Kalani




CHAPTER I.


"_Auhea oe, Nalima? Elua nahae hou o kuu lole!_"[1] "_Auwe, pela?_"[2]
replied the old woman addressed, taking at the same time from Kalani's
hands a coat hat might best be described as one of many colors. The old
man seated himself on the floor of the little hut, and gazed at this
same coat in a manner savoring of dejection. "Yes," he said, "while I
was digging around the taro down by the stream, I left it hanging on a
branch of the big kukui tree, but when I returned to put it on, I found
that it had blown off, caught on a piece of bark and torn that hole. Do
you think you can mend it so that I can wear it on Sunday? You know I
have no other. _Pilikia maoli!_" (sad plight), and Kalani gave a grunt
that embodied many emotions.

[Footnote 1: "Where are you, Nalima? Here are two new rents in my
clothes!"]

[Footnote 2: "Oh dear! is that so?"]

Nalima's small, slightly withered hands were turning the coat tenderly.
Patch had already been placed upon patch, nearly every one differing in
material and color from the original fabric, which was a cotton twill,
and the bleachings of sun and soap had added variety in many shades of
blue and brown.

Yes, she had a little piece of blue flannel left that would just fit
his new rent, she mused, and the whole thing must be washed again. She
was sure she could have it ready to wear that same night. This hopeful
view enabled her old husband to start again with his _o-o_ (Hawaiian
spade) for the garden patch. He removed his tattered hat as he went,
revealing a head of fine proportions. The forehead was high and full,
and the top bald and shining. Soft, white locks clustered in his neck,
and a white beard several inches in length gave a distinguished look to
his face. Patience looked from his soft dark eyes and the expression
about his mouth was kind and firm. The small rush mat which Nalima had
been braiding when Kalani arrived with his tale of woe was laid aside,
and, from a very meager supply of housewifely stores, a needle, thread,
and bit of flannel were produced. Her dim eyes strained themselves to
adjust the patch to the torn edges, and her trembling hands set the
stitches with patient effort. Meanwhile the thoughts of the old wife
wandered into the past. The long-ago was a happy time to re-live. When
they were young, in Kauikeaouli's time, Kalani had been a _kanaka nui_
(great man) among Hawaiians. He had been a _luna_ (overseer) in their
valley and had directed the _konohiki_ (chief's resident land-agent)
labor for years. His own _kuliana_ (land-holding) was a large one, and
the rights of the stream for some acres were his. He in his turn
controlled the work of others for himself. Their house was large and
high and had a window of glass in one end; the _hikie_ (bedstead) was a
pile of mats soft and fine, and the bedding was of the finest _kapa_.[3]
There was always a plenty of _poi_[4] in the calabash; ti roots,
kukui-nuts, cocoa-nuts and breadfruit abounded for more delicate dishes.
They themselves were well and strong, and oh! how proud they were of
their boy and girl. Like a dream had been the years between. Sovereign
had succeeded sovereign. Epidemics has decimated the people. The
_konohiki_ labor had lapsed. Strangers had leased the lands, fences now
barred the way, and keys effectually locked the fastnesses from the
ramblers and seekers for shells and ferns. Their own acres had been
cajoled away from them, and only this little hut far up the valley, and
a small plot of land, on which they with difficulty raised a little
_taro_ and a few sweet potatoes, remained. They were allowed to retain
possession of this as compensation for guarding the leased lands of the
valley against trespassers, but they received no money. The children had
grown and gone. The daughter had married and lived a few years at Kona,
Hawaii, then died. The son had braved the Arctic cold and had been a
sailor for years on a whale ship. But many, many moons had passed since
his last visit home; probably he, too, was dead. They themselves were
growing old now; they had no chance to earn money; economy had
crystallized for them into the problem of how long they could make
things last. Kalani would be broken-hearted when his coat was too old to
wear to church, for, rain or sun, he faithfully attended the service at
the mouth of the valley every Sunday afternoon, walking several miles to
do so. While Nalima sewed and mused, Kalani, wrestling with mountain
_nahelehele_ (wild growth) was thinking too. Perhaps the vigor in the
arm that drove the _o-o_ into the grass stirred the thought cells in his
head; the mental result, however, was not retrospection, but
determination to do some thing in the immediate future to help the
present condition of affairs. "I _must_ have a new coat. I cannot wear
my old one to church any longer. I have no money, but perhaps some one
will give me clothes if I ask for them. I have never begged, and Nalima
wouldn't let me beg now if she knew about it; I musn't tell her. It is
more than two years since I have been beyond the church, but there are
_haole_ (foreign) families living not far from there, and I'll go to
them. I'll tell Nalima I'm going to try to sell some eggs, we've got six
saved in the pail, and perhaps I can buy some salmon to bring home to
her. It would taste good (_ono loa_) to her. I'll go tomorrow morning."
And, full of his resolve, Kalani shouldered his o-o and returned to his
hut.

[Footnote 3: A cloth made from bark.]

[Footnote 4: The Hawaiian "staff of life." A paste made of pounded
_taro_ root mixed with water.]




CHAPTER II.


"Ruth, please see who is knocking at the side door," said Mrs. Hamilton
early one morning in the month of August. "It's a native man, Mamma,"
said Ruth a moment later, "he wants to see you, but says he can wait
until you can come. I think he has never been here before; he is very
old; and he has a small tin pail with him." When Mrs. Hamilton opened
the door leading to the veranda, the rising sun was glorifying a strip
of lawn, glancing among young orange trees, glowing along an hibiscus
hedge, and giving an effect beyond description to a golden-shower tree
in full bloom. On either side of the steps leading to the drive, banks
of ferns stood crisp and cool. The grass was bright with fairy rainbows
strung on drops of dew. "Oh, what a morning to be alive!" thought Mrs.
Hamilton, "what, I wonder, will be the first thing given me to do this
beautiful day?" From the lower step arose, at this instant, Kalani. With
the grace and dignity natural to the Hawaiian, he bared his head, and,
holding his tattered hat in his hand, gave the friendly salutation
"Aloha" which Mrs. Hamilton returned in as friendly a tone. Noting in an
instant the splendid proportions of his head, his fine brow, and the
character which shone from every feature of his up-turned face, it was
with the sincerest interest that she asked in Hawaiian, "What can I do
for you, what would you like?" Kalani took a step sideways into the
ferns, still looking up into her eyes, and, with various apologetic
expressions flitting across his face, finally took hold of the lapel of
his coat with his left hand and, drawing it slightly forward, said, "I
didn't know but perhaps you had a cast-off coat that you would be
willing to give me. This one is very old and has many holes. If I had a
better one I should wear it to church and that would be _maikai loa_
(very pleasant), but, if not, never mind, it will be all right" (_like
pu, he maikai no ia_). Mrs. Hamilton's quick eye took in at a glance the
entire suit in which this son of the soil stood. His garments showed
their many patches, and she thought that the colors of the remnants
still clinging together, would be difficult to reproduce upon any
painter's palette. Stepping within the bedroom door she found Mr.
Hamilton adjusting his necktie before the mirror. "George," she said,
"do you suppose you have a second-hand coat I might give this man? He
needs one badly enough. There is something singularly appealing about
him, and, you can see in a moment, he is no beggar."

"Yes, I guess so," said Mr. Hamilton, first taking a glance through the
door at Kalani and then proceeding to his wardrobe. Presently he
returned and handed his wife an entire suit of grey woolen clothes.
"My," said she, "he has asked only for a _coat_! I'll give them to him
one by one. Come out and enjoy the good time with me." Returning to the
veranda she held up the coat. "Do you suppose this will fit you?" she
asked. "Oh yes, yes!" was the quick reply, "you must see for yourself,"
and his hands trembled as he carefully withdrew the delicate coat he
wore from his shoulders. "See, see, it fits, it fits!" (_Ku no, ku no!_)
and his hands stroked down the sleeves, and lovingly patted the pocket
flaps.

His expressions of delight and appreciation were cut short by Mrs.
Hamilton's holding up the trousers. "What do you think about these?"
Kalani shot a lightning glance at Mr. Hamilton, who stood on the veranda
enjoying the scene, and said "Oh, yes, we are just the same size." "He,"
pointing to Mr. Hamilton, "isn't any bigger than I am." Taking the
trousers, the old man avowed most solemnly that they would be just right
(_ku pono loa_). "Besides," said he with a look of conscious pride,
"I've got an old wife who can fix them if they are not." So that point
was settled. The vest was now held up. "Of course you don't want this,"
said Mrs. Hamilton, "it will make you too warm." "A vest, a vest!" he
cried, "no it won't, oh, I shall be too proud for anything, (_hookano
maoli_) to have a vest!"

All three were laughing by this time, Kalani as much as the others.
"Dear me," said Mr. Hamilton, "this is getting interesting. I must see
if I can't find him something else." In a moment he was back with a
neat, striped negligee shirt, which he himself offered the old man. The
expression on the shining face of the native as he received this fresh
gift, was something to remember. It was brother looking into brother's
face, with a something too deep for words. It was an expression that one
would like to meet again, in the world beyond.

"Let's give him a hat," said George Jr., who had joined the group on the
veranda, "there are a lot on the hat-tree to spare." The tattered hat
under Kalani's arm had not spoken in vain. As the boy was searching for
one, his father cried to him, "Bring the silk hat from the top peg."
"No, no," said Mrs. Hamilton, "don't let us spoil a good thing by
allowing the old man to think we are making fun of him." "Fun of him!"
said Mr. Hamilton, "I tell you I know what will please his soul, and
it's a silk hat, now see if it's not." George first handed his mother a
brown derby, only slightly the worse for wear, and then a silk hat still
possessed of a good shine but not the most modern in shape. Having only
the first in evidence, Mrs. Hamilton again addressed Kalani. "Do you
think you could wear this hat?" "That hat for me? Oh how fine! Yes, yes,
I know--" here his words failed, for his eyes had caught sight of the
silk hat, which Mr. Hamilton was in a great hurry to prove would be the
climax of his life. "Here, try this, I guess you can make it stick on,"
he said. The brown derby fell among the ferns, and trembling hands
seized the shining beaver. "_Auwe, auwe! heaha keia! ka nani! ka maikai!
Auwe! ka lokomaikai!_"[5] Over the shining bald head it was pressed,
coaxed, urged and settled, and _it was a tight fit_. "There," said Mr.
Hamilton, "I told you so, he would wear that hat if it killed him,
rather than not take it when he had the chance! Of course he never had a
silk hat before in his life."

[Footnote 5: "Oh my! oh my! what's this! how splendid, how fine! Ah,
what generosity!"]

The old man was speechless and voluble by turns. His good fortune choked
him, but the joys of possession ran over his eyes and sparkled in every
square inch of his honest face. Ruth brought some wrapping paper, and
Mrs. Hamilton helped fold the articles for easy carrying. "But my hat,
how am I going to carry my hat?" he wailed. "I'll wear this one,"
putting the derby on his head, "but this _papale kilika_ (silk hat) is
to wear to church, and how am I to carry it home?" Another paper was
brought, and, with twine, a secure package was made, with a loop to slip
over his arm. Then a fresh idea came to the old man. Conscious of the
humor of the whole situation, he said, "You have left me only one thing
to ask for," and he raised a foot to which was bound a much worn shoe.
"Shoes!" cried Ruth, "May I find some, Mamma?" and in less time than it
takes to tell it she was back with a pair of half-worn brogans that were
more beautiful in Kalani's eyes than the handsomest ten-dollar boots
that ever came out of a shoe emporium. Now there really seemed to be
nothing left but for the old man to go, but he had something to say.

Lifting his happy face, he said, "You have been very good to me. I have
no money to buy such things for myself, and I was going to ask only for
a coat. I live in Palolo valley, and have no means of earning anything.
I brought a few eggs with me, thinking I could change them for something
to take back to my old wife, but now I would like to give them to you."
He slipped the cover from his pail and held up to Mrs. Hamilton's view
the half dozen small eggs. Tears filled her eyes at his honest,
dignified independence. "No, no," said she, slipping a coin in among the
eggs, "get something for the wife with the eggs, and give her our
_aloha_."

At last with many an _aloha_ and _auwe_ of benediction, Kalani betook
himself and his new wealth down the drive, and the Hamilton family
answered the breakfast bell.




CHAPTER III.


The barking of a small dog awoke Nalima from a nap. Sitting up, she saw
at a little distance down the valley, someone coming up the path. At
first she thought it was Kalani, then saw that it was a _haole_ hat that
appeared and disappeared among the bushes. "_Auwe_, it's some trespasser
that's come up here because Kalani is away, what shall I do?" While she
yet feared, the figure stood at the door and Kalani's voice reassured
her.

We may not repeat all that Nalima listened to, for in another tongue
than the Hawaiian, its flavor would be much impaired. The simple souls
accepted the great good fortune of the suit of clothes, the shoes, and
the hats, with childlike simplicity. The long and early walk had given
Kalani a hearty appetite, which the sour poi, spiced with a bit of salt
salmon from the _Pake_ (Chinese) store at Moiliili, soon appeased.
Nalima produced a few mountain apples she had gathered during his
absence, and they felt they had feasted like chiefs of old.

Nor can we tell of the profound sensation produced in the little
district church the following Sabbath, when Kalani entered dressed in
his new suit, and crowned with his silk hat. This latter he wore until
he took his seat, so that all might see it; then he carefully placed it
on the bench beside him. It seemed as if the possession of this silk hat
bade fair to restore to him his prestige of the long ago. That he should
have been in such high favor with anyone, as to receive such a gift,
surely argued greatly for his birthright, and for the heritage of his
youth, of which the younger generation had not been aware. Certain it
was that soon after this Kalani was made a deacon in the church, and
other honors were accorded him in the months that followed. In the
little hut in the valley, the driest corner was given to the precious
hat, and Nalima gently fondled it as she smoothed it again and again,
hoping to preserve its shining gloss indefinitely. It was not pride but
_satisfaction_ in this _special possession_ that filled Kalani's soul.
He often removed the paper in which it was kept, and, holding it upon
his hand, would relate to Nalima the experiences of that momentous
morning walk, when he became possessed of this treasure. And Nalima
never tired of listening to the tale, though she had long known it by
heart. In closing he always said, "The best of it all was, I know they
were _glad_ to give it to me, and, Nalima, you know what to do with it
if I die first."




CHAPTER IV.


"Mamma," cried Ruth Hamilton, reining her horse beside her mother's
porch one afternoon a year later, "George and I have been for a ride out
to Wailupe and back, and as we came near the Palolo Valley road on our
way home, we saw a funeral procession coming down. It passed the corner
just as we reached it, and, what do you think! On the _top of the coffin
was a silk hat_, and George declares it's the same one Papa gave that
old man that came here one morning a good while ago!"

Even so, according to the customs which still obtain in many lands, and
which have been handed down through the centuries, of burying one's
choicest possessions with the body of the deceased, Kalani and his silk
hat were not parted in the grave.

                                                     EMMA L. DILLINGHAM.




A Legend of Haleakala


We stood shivering on the brink. At our very feet was the crater of
Haleakala, the House of the sun, but that luminary had gone to his other
realms and left his dwelling dark, unfathomable and void. No voice of
nature was there, no murmuring breeze, no note of bird, no spirit of man
or of God moved in those lone and abysmal depths. Only the brilliant
stars kept watch above, and they were immeasurable miles away.

We, who stood there in the cool morning air did not add in any way to
the majesty of the scene, wrapped as we were in blankets--red, white and
gray.

"Like lost spirits waiting for waftage to the other shore," remarked the
tourist.

"I am sure I have lost my spirits," said a shivering unfortunate, "I
think the guide stole them."

"It seems to me we look more like a group of savage Apaches on a bleak
mountain summit sketched by Remington," suggested the artist of the
crowd.

"Ah, there she blows," cried the first speaker pointing toward the east
where a shaft of light had just shot from the dark sea through the gray
clouds. We all turned and looked except the newly married couple. They
gazed into each others eyes as was their custom.

"I am so cold, dearest," she murmured.

I supposed he furnished her with a share of his red blanket though I was
not watching.

"Ladies and gentlemen," said the humorist, "the grand cyclorama of
sunrise on Haleakala is about to open, and as a preliminary, I move to
throw the poet over the brink as a propitiatory sacrifice to the God of
the Sun, who appears to be shocked by our appearance; and besides the
poet will attempt to describe this scene and he can't."

"Describe nothing," retorted the poet, "my teeth are chattering so my
tongue can't." "Let's throw the guide over, that will propitiate us
anyway."

But William, the guide, looked so calm and peaceful as he sat with his
back against a rock smoking a short black pipe, that we decided not to
disturb him.

Meanwhile the sun rose. He has done this so often that it has become a
matter of course with him. But rarely has he risen surrounded with such
pomp of circumstance and kingly glory. It might well have been his
coronation morning, with clouds of heavy gorgeousness upon his shining
shoulders, and the quick heralds of light sent to glorify the distant
mountain heights and to awaken the dark and slumbering sea. We seemed to
be moving in worlds unrealized as the light swept across the reach of
clouds at our feet, broken as a sea of tumbled ice, while around the
outer rim rose forms strange or fantastic, the clouds shaping themselves
into huge animals or rounding into noble palaces or turning into lofty
pinnacles, and on every one the sun had set a crown of flame. The light
with glowing hands pulled slowly back the shadows from the crater until
it stood clearly revealed in its silence and vastness. From West Maui to
Molokai stretched a heavy causeway of cloud beneath which lay the sea
dark and glowing like polished porphyry. The sun was above the cloud and
the common light of day lay round us.

"Tis past, the visionary splendor fades," remarked the poet, but the
remark was not original with him.

Our party now adjourned to the stone house on the summit known as
Cruyealece and after drinking some hot coffee and warming ourselves
around the open fire, the humorist and myself testified to our intention
of taking William and walking down into the crater. They all said that
we were decided idiots, and they would take their exercise out in
watching us. The newly married couple said nothing, but looked as I have
stated.

"I think that haole can't go down," remarked William, pointing to the
humorist. "His legs too thin, they break."

We all laughed except the humorist who could not see the joke.

"Break! you fat rascal," he exclaimed, "before I am done with you, you
won't be anything but an animated brown shadow."

With sarcastic comments which did not disturb our serenity and much
waving of handkerchiefs we began the descent. We went down at a very
rapid gait, the loose dirt smoking at our heels and the canteen thumping
against William's fat sides. In a half hour we reached the floor of the
crater and stopped to take breath. After William had lighted his pipe we
went on our way. First across the black lava flows and broken aa. In the
days of its storm and stress this had been the hot and glowing
life-blood of the great volcano, but now it was cold, black and
congealed. Beyond the flows we came to long stretches of volcanic sands
and the lofty cones rose above us, so perfect in form that it seemed the
slightest breath of air would disturb their symmetry. Their coloring was
wonderful, velvety black, gray and red shading into one another. And
through the vast silence the silvery notes of a bird floated down to us
from the far battlements of the crater.

After a toilsome tramp we reached the other side where the trees come
down the slope, and throwing ourselves down in the shade we looked
across the burning plain and enjoyed the coolness by way of contrast as
we smoked and took chance shots at stray goats coming down the ridge.

"Do you know any stories or legends connected with Haleakala, William?"
I asked.

"Yes, I know one, my grandma always telling."

"That's right, William," said the humorist, "take down your harp from
the weeping lauhala trees, and sing to us of the departed glories of
your race."

"You see my grandma great old woman, she kahuna, live at Hana. I hear
this story every since I was keiki. She says it comes down from some old
poets."

And after gazing across the crater for a while William began in his
native tongue:

"In former times from the distant Islands of the southern sea came a
strange people to Hawaii. On their spears were the great sharks' teeth,
and their tabu staffs were crowned with kapa black or white. They were
great of stature and became the mois of Hawaii. Then followed a people
from beyond the rising sun. Small and broad they were, and came in ships
such as were never before seen in Hawaiian seas. But stranger than these
peoples was an alien race which came from out the distant north from
whence the great trees come floating down upon the rivers of the sea,
and the tradewinds take their rise, which come to cool our valleys and
the burning sea.

It was in the days when Hua, the impious king reigned in Hana, on the
third day before the feast of Lono in the early morning when the
fishermen were returning, six canoes came from out a mist that floated
on the sea, and moved quickly in even line toward the curving beach. The
night before the omens had portended some dire event. The sacrifices had
risen from the blood stained lele and stalked beyond the heiau gate,
while, from the heights of Haleakala, issued the groanings of the
Thunder God. As the aliens strode upon the beach they were taller than
our tallest chiefs. Their skins were red as Pele blood that beats within
our heart, but their eyes were black as is that blood when it cools upon
the mountain sides, yet from them shot fire as the lightning from the
thunder clouds. Their heads were encircled by high feather leis which
swept backwards almost to the ground. Feathers were they grey and white
such as never grew upon the birds that fly within the forests or float
upon the sea.

The King took the strangers to his royal hale and gave them food and
drink. There was a woman with them, the wife of their great chief. She
appeared like a prophetess, only young. Her skin was pale as the white
sea foam. Her dark eyes seemed to gaze afar off, and her smile was like
the flash of sun upon the sea. When Hua saw her he desired her for
himself and his women became as nothing in his eyes. Therefore Hua urged
the redmen to make their home near his hale and they should be aliis in
the land though the priest Luahomoe, warned the king that their coming
would cast a shadow on his life. But the strangers would not dwell with
the king nor with his people, but made their home far up on the slope of
Haleakala where the gray clouds ever hang and the white rain falls
silently to the ground.

Sometimes when the feather hunters sought the mamo and the oo upon the
mountains they would see a figure of one of these men standing on the
highest mountain peak against the black clouds as though carved of
stone, then, suddenly he would raise his arms towards the sky and a cry
would come quick as a javlin piercing to the heart, or, they would hear
a rustling in the ferns and see a shape like a red moo moving through
the green, but whence it came or whither it went they could never tell.

It chanced that on a certain day their great chief came down to the
plain and went to see the king who was stretched at ease in front of his
hale on a kapa mat, while the trade winds waved the falling branches of
the kou trees like green kahilis above his kingly head. The great chief
stood and would not sit upon the matting brought by the attendant. Then
the king made a sign to one of his retainers who in a short time,
brought several maidens with flowers decking their dark hair, and
ornaments of pearl and shells upon their ankles and their arms. They
were the fairest in Hua's court. The King waved his hand toward where
they stood and said:

"Take these, O chief, they are yours, but let the white queen dwell with
me."

Then the great chief folded his arms and looked down at the king while
Hua's guard gathered close around him, for there was evil in the great
chief's eye, and the king was a very little man before him. Then he
grunted 'Umph' and turning left the presence of the king and went
quickly to his mountain home.

But Hua's heart was hot within his breast, so he vowed to take the great
chief's life and bring the white queen to his royal hale. Forthwith he
sent his lunapais into every valley and along the sea to summon the alii
and their warriors, but a messenger came the following day from the
great chief saying:

"I know your plotting and your heart O King. We will make an end of this
matter. Place your kingdom against the possession of the white queen.
Choose your mightiest warrior, and I will meet him. If I die, take the
white queen, but if your warrior dies your people and your lands are
mine, O King. But this one condition, I will choose the place where this
combat is to be fought."

The crafty Hua thought within his heart, "I will accept this challenge,
and if my champion fall my warriors will surround him and his men and
slay them. Then the white queen shall not escape me." So he assented. The
messenger then took the king and, pointing where the clouds were flowing
through the Kaupo gap, he said: "In yonder hollow mountain fights the
chief."

The king's heart was troubled then, but he dare not return upon his
spoken word. Among the alii there was none so tall and powerful as the
young Kuala. In all the sports of peace he was pre-eminent. While in war
none would hurl the spear so swiftly, nor use the javlin with such
skilled hands, and when he whirled the battle axe above his head none
could see it for the speed. He was chosen champion by the King.

For many days the priests consulted the oracles within the enclosure of
the sacred anu, but the omens puzzled them, and they said the Gods were
not at peace among themselves.

It was on the evening before the day just as the sun sank into the sea,
there came a cloud, blacker than the kapa for the dead, moving slowly
above the sea, and the gray rain following as a veil behind it. The air
around was very still. Then, suddenly the cloud turned to crimson and
the mountain and the thousands on the beach were reddened as though by
the glow from a great fire. All were frightened, but Kuala only laughed
and said, "If it storms now it will be cooler on the morrow." The old
priest shook his head and said, "My son, that mountain height will be
plenty cool enough for thee."

Late in the afternoon of the destined day the hosts of Maui were
gathered in the arms of the great mountain. Foremost stood the King.
Around his shoulders fell the yellow mamo cloak, and on his head a
helmet yellow as his robe save its crest which was red with the feathers
of the scarlet bird. Behind him stood the priests in feather cloaks red
as the blood of their sacrifices, while in a half circle rose the
hundred alii in cloaks mingled with the royal yellow and the priestly
red. As the sunlight shone upon them they were in form and color as the
rainbows bent over the valleys green, and on the rounded hills of sand
above them stood the warriors thicker than the leaves upon the forest
trees, and their thousand spears made the red hills black. A murmur ran
amongst them as when the voice of the sea comes on the south wind and
the sky is gray. The priests chanted in low tones, the meles of Kuala's
race, and waved their arms as they sang of heroic deeds. Kuala stood
quietly by the king and looked across the lava plain where, in the
distance, could be seen the red men moving, one behind the other, in a
line. They came swiftly. When they reached a hundred paces from where
stood the king, they stopped and the white queen stood forth before
them. Her color was no longer as the pale foam, for the blood beat
quickly in her cheeks, and she breathed as though she had been running,
while her eyes shone so that even Hua turned his glance away. The great
chief stood near her but impassive as though carved of stone. Behind
them the warriors stood lean and red with strange colors on their faces,
and their heads were crowned with warlike feathers. They moved not, nor
looked upon the warriors on the hills, regardless of them as though they
were but crawling ants. Then the messenger of the chief advanced across
the sand and stood before the king.

"O King, the chief is ready now to offer the victim chosen by you for
the sacrifice."

Hua replied, "My champion is here at my right hand, and to-night we will
wrap your chief in the funeral kapa, and the black sharks will dine upon
his flesh." He would have spoken more but the messenger turned upon his
heel and left the king.

Kuala threw aside his feathered cloak and advanced slowly towards the
level sand. Then there rose a shout from the hosts upon the hill louder
than the thunder of the great waves falling on the beach, and the
priests chanted in loud tones beating wildly on their sacred drums. The
great chief advanced to meet his foe but stopped, and with arms
outstretched towards the sun gazed straight into its burning light while
his voice reached to the remotest warrior on the hills, though none
could understand the words, so strange they were. Then he turned and
faced Kuala, who stood twenty paces distant. All was quiet as is the air
before a coming storm. Kuala slowly raised his spear above his head and
bending quickly forward sent it with such force that none could see it
in the air, but the great chief was quicker than the spear and it went
past him deep into the sand. His spear flew so close to Kuala that he
felt the wind of its speed upon his cheek. The second time they raised
their arms together and send the weapons whirling through the air. The
warrior's spear struck some feathers from the great chief's head, whose
weapon went straight to Kuala's heart, but before it touched his body
Kuala caught it with his hands and turned its course aside, but
staggered backwards with the force. Then the warriors cried in
lamentation on the hills, but when they saw he was unhurt a shout arose
louder than the first. The last spear Kuala poised above his head was of
polished koa tipped with ivory, whose point had been dipped in Po's dark
waters, carrying death upon its slightest touch. But it never reached
the red chief's for the two spears met in the air with a great clash and
fell broken on the sand. Then the warriors rushed towards each other and
met midway on the sands, their javelins clashing as they met. Suddenly
the light had faded while gray clouds covered the crater as with a roof,
and the white rain began to fall thick and fast, lying like white stars
on cloaks of the alii and of king. Kuala and the great chief could be
dimly seen as they whirled around each other in the strife faster than
sea birds on the wing. Now rushing together, now stepping quick aside,
but Kuala's breathing could be heard by the king and his alii standing
near; while the great chief moved quicker than the red lightning from
the clouds, without a sound save when his javelin struck the warriors.
But moving backward from Kuala's rush his heel struck upon a stone and
he swayed slightly. Then the warrior's javelin tore his shoulder till
the red blood came. With a cry that made the king and all his followers
shiver as with cold, he sprang past Kuala's javelin and fastened his
teeth within the flesh and his face was like a demon as he tore the
warrior's throat, and Kuala fell slowly back upon the sand, writhing in
quick death. Then the Hulumanu, standing by the King, threw his spear
and pierced the great chief who fell face downward on the sand. From the
hills the warriors came with a mighty rush as slides the land from the
steep mountain sides, while the red men awaited their coming with faces
lean and fierce. They stood as does a rock within the sea when the great
waves surge upon it fall back in beaten foam until one mightier than the
rest o'erwhelms it. So stood, so fell the red men on that day. Hua
marked not the raging of the strife but through the tumult pushed his
way toward where the white queen stood alone. She fled with exceeding
swiftness, moving like a shadow through the falling mist. Hua, in
furious anger, raised his spear and sent it straight towards her as she
fled. Then the cloud grew thicker and closed around them. Instantly a
great cry was heard and the King's people found him bleeding on the sand
with his spear point centering in his breast. Whither the white queen
went none ever knew. But sometimes the hunter, following his lonely
trail through the great mountain, sees a woman's form wrapped in moving
mist and with dark hair floating wildly around the pallor of her face."

"That's all," said the guide.

"That's quite a little lie, William," said the humorist.

"I don't know, the old lady says it is just so."

As we started on our homeward trail the clouds had rolled through the
two gaps and an opaque mist lay around us. William headed the procession
and we had gone about a quarter of a mile and were near the great cone
when William stopped suddenly and grasped the humorist by the arm,
almost white with terror.

"Look!" he said, pointing towards where the fog had lifted somewhat, and
a current of air was whirling the mist, and, in the mist a woman's form
and face could be clearly seen. I looked inquiringly at the humorist.

"Can such things be," he said, "and overcome us like a summer cloud,
without our special wonders?"

"There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio," I suggested.

Then we went on in silence through the falling mist, but the humorist
took the lead.

                                                   GEO. H. DE LA VERGNE.




Peleg Chapman's Sharks


Mr. Dole and I were standing in front of one of the caves which are
found near the edges of the bay of Hanauma which is situated this side
of Koko Head. We were there for several days of recreation. Mr. Dole was
glad to get away from the Executive building, where his Ministers had
caged various bees in their bonnets. These bees often wrangled with the
bees in his own bonnet, and by temporarily separating them, the
different bees ameliorated their buzzing, and a general rest prevailed.
Mr. Dole said he preferred to take recreation with one who had outgrown
the bee-hive age and the age of other annoying human devices.

"Do you see that flat stone?" I asked, pointing to one that lay under
some lantana bushes, and was partially concealed by the sand and just
beyond the reach of the surf.

"I see it," said Mr. Dole. "Do you think that some person with a bee in
his bonnet has been around? Has the stone a story?"

"Well," I said, "that stone belonged to the foundation of a house which
Peleg Chapman built away back in the 'thirties.'"

"Tell me the story," said Mr. Dole and he sat down on the grass, as if it
were his Cabinet, and stretched his legs out towards the much sounding
sea.

I then told him the story as I had obtained it from the most authentic
sources, included in which were some scraps in Peleg Chapman's
handwriting.

Peleg's father, Silas Chapman, was a poor but honest farmer who lived in
Stockbridge, Massachusetts, near the State line. He had been eminently
successful in achieving poverty, which he shared generously with his
wife and sons. Though mentally dull in most matters, he possessed a rare
gift for training animals of all kinds. He was a master of those
inarticulate sounds, and musical notes which curiously convey ideas to
animals. He talked with his dogs and cats, and made them useful. His
trained squirrels brought him abundance of nuts, and his trained robins
brought him cherries without injuring them. His cows, pigs, and chickens
did curious tricks, and when gathered together in the barnyard, under
his voice and eye, were more orderly than the General Assembly of the
State. These useful animals did much to relieve the family poverty. The
collie dogs stole watermelons and rolled them home, and the tame crows
supplied the cattle with ripe corn from the neighbors' fields.

Peleg inherited from his father this singular gift of training animals,
and he had listened to his luminous expositions of the subject.

"Peleg," he said, "all an'mals think. Ef you only larn how they think,
you ken do anything with 'em. Each on 'em has a little different way of
working his gumption, but you kinder sit along side 'on 'em, get to
communin' with 'em in a slow fashion, and you'l find 'em ekal to human
critters."

Peleg in due time became more skillful than his father, in training
animals. He caught a young eagle over in Lenox, and trained him to
relieve the family poverty by stealing chickens over in York State. The
eagle was not morally very strong, and often brought home the tough
roosters, after eating the tender chickens.

One day, when Peleg was away, the eagle being in a contrary mood, seized
Silas Chapman's Sunday coat, and flying away with it dropped it into the
Housatonic river. When Peleg reached home, his father told him that the
eagle had done a mean job, and that he must pay for the stolen coat.
Peleg refused on the ground that animals had no morals.

"Dad," he said, "you be livin' off them thievin' dogs and birds." Then
said his father: "I guess Peleg you and me has got to have some
interestin' conversation in the barn, this evenin'."

Peleg acted promptly on this suggestion. At four o'clock, with a small
sum of money, he secretly went to the station, and boarded the Boston
express. He left a note to his mother saying he was going off and his
dad might lick the eagle if he caught him.

On reaching Boston, he wandered about until he reached the Frog pond in
the Common. He had often heard that its waters were sacred in the eyes
of every Bostonian. Feeling much depressed he took out of his pocket a
copy of the Westminster Catechism, which every child studied in those
days, and by accident glanced over the rough wood cuts of Biblical
incidents. His eye fell on that of a very stiff looking whale, with a
very stiff looking Jonah in front of it, waiting with a very resigned
look to be swallowed.

While he was getting some comfort out of Jonah's resigned look, a
sea-faring man took a seat by his side, on the public bench, and after
glancing at the picture in Peleg's hand, remarked: "purty stiff lookin'
whale I guess."

"Ever see'd one?" asked Peleg.

"Caught plenty on 'em," said the sailor. "Been around the Horn and up in
the Artic for sperm and right whales. Plenty of lay money too. Down in
Wyhee plenty of gals and bananas."

"Goin' again?" asked Peleg.

"Yes, next week," said the sailor.

"Take me?" asked Peleg.

"Guess you can ship on the Julian," said the sailor. "Fresh fo'cas'le
hand gets one hundred and fortieth lay. That's his share of all the oil
and bone the vessel takes in her cruise. Have good luck, plenty of
money," said the sailor.

Peleg glanced at the stiff figure of the whale, closed the book, and
said, "I'm goin'."

On reaching New Bedford, he shipped on the Julian, signed ship's
articles, and went on board with a new kit. The vessel sailed for the
Pacific and the Arctic ocean.

For a few days, Peleg would have been willing to return home and take
the vicarious punishment for the eagle's sins rather than sleep in a
fo'cas'le bunk. But the ship bowled along towards the equator, and the
carefully expurgated yarns of the crew kindled his enthusiasm.

He caught and trained some sea gulls to fetch fish for the cabin and
for'rad deck so that his shipmates, instead of calling him a blankety
land lubber, took pains to teach him the art of handling ropes, and
chewing old plug tobacco, and reading the sulphurous marine literature
of the age.

The Julian took five hundred barrels of sperm oil off the island of Juan
Fernandez, and finally dropped her anchor in the harbor of Honolulu, for
the purpose of getting wood and water and fresh provisions.

On going ashore, Peleg was amazed at the abundance of bananas of which
he was very fond, but for which the price at home was one shilling each.
As he gorged himself, he began to think of exchanging his marine
interest in the Pacific for a residence on the Islands. He felt
justified in deserting, because the air of the forecastle was bad, and
the captain had refused to reconstruct the vessel and place saloon
cabins at the disposal of the crew. He obtained from Mellish & Co., ship
chandlers, an advance of $300 on his lay, and deserted. He concealed
himself at Waimanalo, until the vessel sailed for the Arctic, and then
keeping out of the way of the native police or "kikos," he crossed over
into Manoa valley and followed the coast line from Waikiki towards Koko
Head. Finding the secluded bay of Hanauma he remained there. It was
surrounded by a high ridge, as it was part of an extinct crater, and one
side of it had fallen in towards the ocean, so that it was almost land
locked, and the surf and heavy seas rushed through the narrow opening.

With the aid of a native, he laid a foundation of flat stones and built
upon them a thatched house. The native brought him fruit and vegetables,
and he caught an abundance of fish.

While the Julian was off the island of Juan Fernandez, Peleg had studied
the numerous sharks found there. He discovered that the many rows of
teeth in the mouth of the female shark were flexible, and rested on
elastic gums. They could be laid flat, at the will of the shark. The
reason for this curious arrangement was this. Whenever the young sharks
are in danger, the mother shark opens her mouth, lays down her teeth,
and the young sharks pass over without danger, into a pouch in her body
where they remain until the danger is over. He had counted as many as
seventy, each of them about three feet long, at one time diving into
their mother's mouth, and emerging after the danger was over. He
remembered that Prof. Aggasiz or some noted naturalist, had suggested
that in some remote period a female kangaroo had tumbled overboard from
some prehistoric canoe, and, according to Mr. Darwin, had adapted itself
to the new environment, and become a shark. The pouch for the young
which appears on the outside in the case of the kangaroo, appears as a
pouch on the inside of the shark.

Peleg learned from the natives that at times fish were very scare in the
Honolulu market. During the visits of the whaling fleets which often
numbered over a hundred vessels, the demand could not be supplied with
any regularity. When there was bad weather, the canoes could not put out
to sea, and there was a fish famine excepting so far as it could be
supplied from the local fish ponds that were entirely owned by the
chiefs and King.

Besides there were some rare fish which the chiefs were especially fond
of which were found only in deep water and could only be obtained under
the most favorable circumstances of tide and weather. Such were the
Kawele-a, the Ahi, the Ono and the Omaka. The Ahi was a very delicate
fish and was found only off the coast of Hawaii, and was seldom seen in
Honolulu markets.

Peleg said to himself: "Why not train sharks to catch fish? It may be as
dad said, some bother to find out their way of thinkin' and they live in
the water. But they has eyes and ears, and they hasn't got them things
for nothing."

He caught, with the aid of some natives, an immense female shark, and
before the young ones could hide, he captured them all, and put them in
a pond he built up in the water. He began to educate them. At first they
were quite vicious, and refused to be cheerful. But Peleg knew that from
the crab to the seraphim, the appeal to the appetite was most effective.
After repeated experiments, he found that sharks had a most
extraordinary fondness for salt pork. There was a monotony of freshness
in their ordinary diet, excepting as a sailor with a rich tobacco
flavor, fell in their way once in a while. He also discovered that the
addition of beans to the pork made the food especially attractive, and
the young sharks quickly submitted to discipline with this reward before
them.

He saw that they thought in their crude way, just as dogs and birds
thought, and their hearing was like that of other animals. By tapping
stones under water he could call them, but he generally used a speaking
tube which he thrust into the water. By using rags of different colors,
he trained them to distinguish between colors. He taught them to fetch
and carry sticks, and then pieces of meat. As they grew older, he
trained them to search for fish in the bay, and to bring them in without
injuring them as they took them in or cast them out of their pouches.
Pork and beans were liberally used as rewards. He was finally successful
in teaching them to distinguish between the grades of fish and as it
were, take orders for special kinds and leave the rest. The most
intelligent learned to travel long distances, even to Maui and Hawaii,
and find the feeding grounds of the rare fish of which he kept samples
in a pond, and exhibited to them whenever he desired a supply of that
variety.

He never permitted the natives to watch him while in his training
school. He gave names to the expert and reliable sharks. His reading was
limited so that he selected names from the Bible and from the names of
the towns near his home. He called them "Lenox belle," "Barrington
belle," "Pittsfield belle," "Lee belle," "Bashbish belle," "Stockbridge
belle," and many other Berkshire names were used. The Scriptural names
were "Queen of Sheba," "Jezabel," "Mehita-bel" and "Assyrian girl," with
other such names. The word "belle" appealed to his poetic instinct.

He graduated the sharks after two years of training, and then opened
business. He purchased a canoe, and paddled out to sea, followed by more
than twenty submissive fish. He sent them off singly or by battalion, as
he called it. In the battalion form, they moved out on an extended line
and drove the fish desired towards the caves and small inlets, where
they were easily caught, taken into the pouches, and brought to Peleg's
canoe, and pork and beans were liberally served out in return.

On the arrival of the next whaling fleet, Peleg entered Honolulu harbor
every morning with a large load of mullet in his canoe or with other
excellent fish. After disposing of them to the whalers, he put out of
the harbor at once, and joined his "sea hounds" as he called them, who
waited for him outside the reef. His enormous catches attracted the
attention of the natives, who once followed him in the hope of finding
his rich fishing grounds. They were especially surprised at his large
catch during stormy weather, when they could not go out in their canoes.
Nor, by watching Hanauma bay could they get any information, as there
were no nets there, and the sharks attracted no attention.

On one occasion as he was paddling along the Waikiki shore after selling
his load of fish, he met a fleet of native canoes that had no luck.
Taking compassion on them, he dipped his tube under water, gave the sign
for mullet to his sea dogs, shipped his paddle, and lit his pipe. In an
hour the noses of his hunters rubbed against the side of the canoe, and
leaning over, he pulled out of their mouths more than six hundred pounds
of mullet, and threw them into the canoes of the natives. The natives
were stricken with terror at the sight, and dropped their paddles with
the exclamation: "He is a kahuna (sorcerer) of the shark god."

He was soon regarded as an akua (god). No natives dared to enter the bay
of Hanauma.

At the end of each whaling season he accumulated considerable sums in
gold, a part of which he hid and a part he invested in the purchase of
shares in whalers. After the season, he engaged in fishing for the rare
fish only, which he supplied to the King and chiefs. Whenever the King
said: "Peleg, my friend, I want some of the Ahi," Peleg sent four of his
leading sharks to the Kona coast, and they returned within ten hours,
with an abundance.

The King sent for him one day and said to him: "You are the most
valuable man in my kingdom, and as my predecessors rewarded Isaac Davis
and John Young with matrimonial alliances, I would be glad to have you
look around and if you see any attractive female of the royal connection
that you would like to marry, you may take her until otherwise ordered.
I wish for useful men about my throne. I put on no airs, excepting a
white cotton shirt. If you accept my offer you are authorized to wear an
Admiral's cocked hat, and new boots on State occasion." Peleg replied
that he recognized the honor, but that his heart belonged to his sharks
and to the daughter of a carpenter who lived near the York State line,
and he expected to visit her very soon.

A fanatical native attempted to "anaana" him or pray him to death. He
gathered grass and burned it. The oily kukui nuts were thrown on the
fire, and the whole resources of the Polynesian Black Art were brought
into use. But Peleg lived.

A missionary, hearing of his remarkable powers, visited him and inquired
about his ancestors, and among other questions asked him if he had
become a heathen and allowed himself to become a kahuna or sorcerer. He
replied that he did not hanker after heathenism, but, he said, that if
he was in the missionary business he would open a conjuring saloon and
beat all their old kahunas at sleight of hand tricks, and that would
soon bring the whole crowd over to his side. The heathen, he said,
couldn't do much thinking but if they saw him pull a rabbit out of his
nose, or take a taro out of a man's ear, they would smash the business
of their own conjuring priests. Seein' was believin'. Conjuring tricks
would finally bust up their superstitions. The missionary said he and
his associates could not look upon the matter in that way, but he would
write to the American Board about it, and ask it to send out a
respectable conjurer of high moral principle who would hitch a moral to
the tail end of every trick, and then challenge a native sorcerer to do
any better.

Peleg said that although he was a perverted Puritan, he would supply all
of the Honolulu missionaries with fish without charge.

As he had received a very limited education owing to his father's
flourishing poverty, he seldom wrote any letters. He did not forget his
mother, however. She received from time to time, through Bunker & Co.,
of New Bedford, comfortable sums of money, with the statement that they
came from her son, who was somewhere on the equator, and would come home
after awhile. He also sent to Patsy McGloural, who had grown up and did
the chores in the family of a rich paper manufacturer, a sandal wood
box, and a dress of the finest Chinese silk, which he got from one of
the vessels in the sandal wood trade. This dress was the finest in
Berkshire county, and when Patsy put it on and went to church, it
attracted the attention of the women, so that the preacher gave out the
hymn about being "naked, poor and sinful."

Peleg had invested his money in shares in the whaleships, which made
very profitable voyages, from Honolulu to the Arctic and Japan seas, and
he became rich for a Berkshire man. After ten years of fishing he
resolved to go home. He found a young man who came from the neighboring
town of Hinsdale, on one of the new whalers, and after giving him a long
trial, instructed him in the business. He consulted an attorney in
Honolulu, and executed an instrument establishing the "Peleg Chapman
Shark Trust," the income of which was to be used in feeding his faithful
sharks with pork and beans, and in supplying the poor natives of
Honolulu with fish.

He then sailed for New Bedford, and on arriving there, went directly
home. He arrested the even course of his father's poverty, but did not
inform his indigent but acute parent of the sources of his fortune. He
built for his mother the finest chicken house in the county, and
presented her with a neat buggy and a gentle horse. He soon married
Patsy, and was known as Squire Chapman. As a leading authority on
travel, he had no equal in those parts. Subsequently, with the aid of a
young student from Williams College, he published in rather Sophomorical
language, a book which had a wide circulation titled, "Chapman's
researches in the islands of the Pacific."




'Twas Cupid's Dart

A Hawaiian Love Story.


Many years ago there lived in Hoikaopuiaawalau, in Hamakua, on Maui, a
Hawaiian maiden whose story I will tell as I heard it from one who knew
it too well.

"Her name, which they said was given her by her _kupuna_, Hikiau, who
was a favorite chief under Kamehameha the great, was
Kalaninuiahilapalapa, but we always called her Lani.

At the time we first met her she was about eleven years of age, very
pretty, with regular features and long, black, silky hair. Like many of
the natives she had beautiful gazelle-eyes, such as one never tires of
gazing into. Probably those eyes cost her most of her--well we will tell
it.

She lived with her parents in that beautiful little fern-clad valley,
known today as Awalau, where her father worked in a sawmill. He was a
very large and powerful man and as good natured as large men usually
are.

His name was Kapohakunuipalahalaha, but as that was unnecessarily long,
we shortened it to Nui, and a faithful man Nui was at any kind of work.
Those who know what sawmill work is know that great strength is
appreciated, especially when you are depending on a man to keep his end
of a cant-hook up to time. He was as hospitable as the natives have the
reputation of being, and that is saying a good deal.

Lani's mother, Kamaka, was a sprightly woman of about thirty-five and
did her part to make "life in the woods" pleasant. Neither mother nor
daughter appeared to have many household cares and seemed to take
delight in wandering up and down the valley in quest of land shrimps,
which they caught in a cornucopia-shaped basket made of wicker work.
These, with the little black fish named oopu which they found adhering
to the stones in the brook, and a fern frond called pohole, together
with poi, the Hawaiian staff of life, constituted the principal part of
their diet. They were also very fond of pig and chicken and never
begrudged the labor or time spent in getting up a luau. From them we had
an insight into the Hawaiian mode of living and were surprised to note
to what an extent the natives are dependent on the sea for a livelihood.
Sometimes Nui would take a day off, whether the master liked or not, and
take his family to the beach, when they employed themselves in fishing.
They would return with the greatest assortment of shell-fish and fish of
many sizes of the most varied colors. Also they would bring limu of
several kinds and odors. Limu, you know, is seaweed, and there appear to
be as many varieties of it as there are of ferns on the land. There is
also a variety of it found in the streams adhering to the rocks on the
bottom, which we were always taught to beware of at home, but which the
natives eat with cooked meats with great gusto.

They always kept a store of kukui nuts, which they roasted; then
breaking up the kernels fine and mixed with salt, they ate it as a
relish.

The women took delight in adorning themselves with leis, made either of
the maile, which grew in profusion on the steep sides of the ravines, or
of the _palapalai_, a luxuriant fern which clothes the valleys as with a
garment. Sometimes they would make leis of the fruit of the hala tree,
the _pandanus_, which was also very plentiful in that part of the
island. Sometimes they would inter-twine the bright hala fruit and the
fragrant glossy leaves of the maile, which made a very beautiful lei,
especially on an olive skin as a background.

Often we were called in to eat with them and learned to like almost all
their native dishes. It was always the custom to call in any stranger
passing, to share their food with them. Their style of cooking, viz:
under ground, or in a saucepan over an open fire, seemed to give the
food a piquancy which had charms for us.

Lani had a very sweet voice and accompanied her singing with a guitar,
which she played very sweetly and many an evening we passed about the
campfire very comfortably. She could yodel like an inhabitant of the
Swiss Alps and often we would hear her singing and yodeling as she came
up the valley to cross up to the tableland where we were cutting the
large koa trees, preparatory to hauling them to the mill to turn into
the handsome lumber so much sought after for making fine furniture.
There was not a man in the camp who was not charmed with her.

There was a little Chinaman who came up through our valley, leading pack
horses, whose business was buying _pepeiao_, an ear-shaped fungus which
is found very plentiful on the trunks of decayed trees on the windward
sides of all the islands. The natives gathered and dried these and were
always glad to see the Chinaman come around, as they were enabled to
exchange them for either cash or the sweet cakes which he carried in his
panniers. This fungus contains a good deal of gelatinous matter and was
formerly largely exported to China, where it is used for soup making.
This poor little waif of a Celestial, named Leong Sing, fell in love
with our Lani at first sight and the frequent occasions he took for
wandering up our valley were not warranted by the inextensive trade
which he found. He made the acquaintance of a Chinaman who had a camp in
a neighboring valley, where he was making charcoal from the branches of
the koa trees, which he purchased from us. He got to staying over night
with his friend and would sometimes join our campfire of an evening and
listen to Lani's singing. None of us suspected him of the effrontery of
falling in love with our Lani or of expecting her to reciprocate his
affection. While at work one day in the woods her father told us that
the Chinaman had proposed and wanted to carry her off to Lahaina, where
his uncle had a large store. This was a greater temptation to Lani than
we suspected, as she was very fond of good clothes and the Chinese are
noted for taking the best of care of their wives in that respect. Also
was not Lahaina the capital, where young people were numerous and where
her accomplishments would be appreciated?

Her father had higher aspirations for his daughter and wished that she
might marry a haole.

There was a young man in camp, named Frank Willoughby, (evidently a
purser's name) who had come round the Horn in a whaler and had decamped
as soon as the vessel touched at Honolulu, as many of our best and worst
men did. Frank had a good education and was a very fine looking, healthy
young fellow of a most amiable disposition. When Frank heard of the
Chinaman's proposal he said he would kill the saffron-colored Celestial
on sight and break every bone in his body for his presumption. Then we
knew that Frank was badly smitten.

But he was not the only one who was struck bad, as there was a young
half Hawaiian-Portuguese named Joe Edwards who was also very
denunciatory of the Chinaman and expressed a wish for his speedy demise.
Some of us had noticed that Frank was jealous of Joe, as the latter
could play the ukeke or Hawaiian Jew's harp, very well, and as a
stranger cannot tell what the player is singing on the instrument to his
_dulcinea_, Frank could not understand how far Joe had got along in his
courtship.

There was another party who was heels over head in love with Lani and
this was so utterly unexpected that when the _denouement_ took place,
"you might knock us all down with a feather." This was a big hulk of a
black Portuguese named Shenandoah, from his having been captured on a
whaler by that Confederate pirate when on her marauding excursion
amongst the whalers in the Arctic, from whence he was returned to
Honolulu with many others. He was a most repulsive, villainous-looking
scoundrel, with black warts on his face; an Iago who could never capture
our Desdemona and consequently never came into our calculations.

Anyway the Chinaman's name was "mud" from that time on.

Frank could not talk much native and Lani's English education had been
sadly neglected, but it would not be the first instance where love was
made with the eyes and not the tongue.

The work in the woods, felling those mammoth koas and hauling them with
cattle to the mill, was looked on more as play than work, but we were
very tired at night just the same. The _ieie_, an almost impenetrable
climbing vine, seemed to take delight in wrapping its rootlets around
those koas, to the vexation of the woodsman, and it would sometimes take
hours to get at the trunk of a tree. In chopping this ieie the axe would
sometimes fly back to the peril of the chopper. Once Frank had the bad
or good luck to get cut in the head with his axe and as he bled very
freely we were much alarmed and took him down to the camp. Kamaka put a
bandage of some native herbs about his head and he remained at home for
two or three days. How far his courtship progressed during his
convalescence we were never able to learn. Joe said he wished he himself
could get his foot cut off or something that he might be invalided.

Sometime after this the boss told us we could all go down to Wailuku for
a holiday and spend the Fourth of July, which was going to be grandly
celebrated that year on account of some favorable news from home,
provided we would take a load of koa lumber down. Horses were not very
plentiful with us and we were to ride on the load. As Nui and Shenandoah
were to drive the six yoke of oxen and Lani and her mother were to ride
we jumped at the opportunity.

The cattle were brought in from the woods, after a tedious search for
them, for a bullock can hide himself easier under the parasitic vines
and convolvulus which hang from those mammoth koas than anywhere under
the sun. The wagon being loaded and the load bound on with chains we
eight took our places for an eighteen-mile ride. Lani had provided leis
for each of us and she and her mother had collected an immensity of
ferns and ki leaves for a cushion to make the soft side of the boards
softer, and we had a large hamper of lunch and a merrier party never
started for an ox-cart ride.

We got away about 5 a. m., Nui and Shenandoah walking on either side of
the team and there never was more fun in a basket of monkeys than on
that wagon. He had our old standbys, Nigger and Puakea on the tongue and
the young cattle ahead and the trouble these cattle caused, "I couldn't
be telling." They would dash ahead and fetch up, then they would turn on
their tracks and get tangled in the chains, then after a lot of bad
language they would get straightened out and make another break, and
this was repeated _ad nauseam_.

When we got them up out of the valley and the weight of the load was
relieved they made a break to run and almost pulled the heads off the
tongue cattle, who, I believe, would sooner have lost those extremities
than have been so undignified as to go faster than a walk. Down we went
through Kawaiki, and through Huluhulunui, Puaahookui, and Kaluanui
gulches, the young cattle on the tear and the old ones on their
haunches, notwithstanding the chain lock which we had on the wheels. The
only thing to hold on to was the binding chain and after getting our
hands nipped a few times we preferred to maintain our positions by
leaning up against each other. We could not refrain from remarking on
the solicitude which both Frank and Joe exhibited for Lani's welfare,
doing everything they could devise for her comfort. We have helped tip
over a pair of bobs in the snow at home to hear the girls squeal, but we
never had an experience of riding on a bullock cart with a trio of
lovesick people when every instant produced a bump which would drive a
sane person into insanity.

The sun came up right glorious and gave us the benefit of its full
actinic rays for the whole day. However, had we been in a palace car we
could not have had more fun.

All across that sunburnt plain from East Maui plantation to the beach at
Kahului we bumped over rocks and into gullies, for who ever knew of a
bullock team fool enough to miss any of those opportunities of getting
even on man for his inhumanity to them. Towards 1 P. M. we reached
Kahului, the cattle with their tongues hanging out this three hours for
lack of water. Here was plenty of it and the whole team rushed into the
sea only to find that this fluid which so much resembled water was not
the kind they were accustomed to.

Now we were in real danger of getting drowned or getting the wheels
stuck in the quick-sand. Frank suggested that we take the wheels off our
chariot, the way Pharaoh did and float ashore. He was told to kulikuli
and suggest some way out of the difficulty which was feasible. All of us
knew how to direct the drivers however, and if they had listened to us
we would have been there yet. Nui dashed into the water to seaward of
the cattle and striking one of the young leaders on the nose it bellowed
with pain and turned shorewards and we were saved, probably for a worse
fate. We arrived safely at Wailuku and hastened to relieve ourselves of
the superfluous real estate gathered on the way, for the winds of
Kahului isthmus can carry more red dirt per cubic inch than any simoon
in Arabia, and deposit it more evenly on any obstructing surface.

That evening we met Lani and her mother at the village store and
postoffice and she soon became the recipient of much in the line of
bright colored dress goods. Frank received a remittance from home and
nothing would do but he must give her a side saddle, one of those fancy
looking horse-killers such as they sold for twenty dollars. Joe bought
her a fancy bridle and another member of the party gave her a flaming
scarlet felt saddle cloth. All these to a poor girl who did not own a
horse. Horses were pretty cheap in those days, from $5 up. Frank bought
her a cream colored mare from a bystander for $20 and placing the saddle
and accoutrements on he requested her to mount and try the saddle.

Shenandoah had been buying dress goods at the instigation of Lani's
mother and when he came out and saw the beautiful girl mounted on the
prancing horse he swore she should never ride it home and commanded her
to dismount.

This revelation was too much for us. What; this clod of earth dare to
talk in this manner to our Lani? And using tones of authority too! This
was the last straw. Frank opened up on him with a volubility and a
vocabulary which could only have been acquired before the mast on an
American whaler.

Shenandoah dropped his armful of bundles and made a rush at him to
annihilate him. Frank had played football too much in college to be
badly terrified and when the Portuguese struck at him he lowered his
head and rushed his black opponent, taking him just in the short ribs
with his head, and Shenandoah was _hors de combat_ instanter. It was
sometime before he could take a breath, then had to be taken off to a
room, which he did not leave until we were ready to return to
Hoikaopuiaawalau.

Frank got a nice horse for himself and he and Lani enjoyed the Fourth of
July.

At that time there was a fashion among the native women of making their
own hats from rooster skins. A fine bird would be selected, no matter
what the price ($5 has been paid for a bird for that purpose). The skin
was taken off whole and while green put over a mold to dry. Then they
would line them and when rightly made one could almost imagine it was a
live rooster sitting on a nest. Frank got one of the best of these and
gave it to Lani and the next day as he and she rode on either side of
the team, for they drove us home, the sight of her was exceedingly
galling to Shenandoah who had to ride on the empty wagon, the cock
appearing to crow over him at every bounce of her horse.

However the fun was not out of us yet nor out of the bullock. They never
seemed to tire giving us our money's worth. When we had arrived at
Wailuku we turned them into a corral where there was plenty of food and
drink and they ought to have been satisfied. Not so however, for, about
midnight a man came to our lodgings and said our cattle had got loose
into the cane fields, and, tired as we were we all had to get out and
hunt them through the cane, and corral them once more.

We sailed across the plains easily enough but when we came to the region
of gulches and night and the rain had set in the anxiety of those on the
wagon for their safety was pathetic. We had some marvellous escapes but
finally arrived in camp in a half drowned condition.

A couple of days afterwards the charcoal burner came over and told us
that Leong Sing had been there during our absence, and says he, "there he
comes again." That evening he called on Lani and she flatly told him in
some expressive way that she wished no more of his attentions. He
retired to the Chinese camp and we saw him no more.

The following day the Chinaman came over and asked where Leong Sing was.
We said we did not know. Then said he, "he is dead for his hat is lying
beside the charcoal kiln and it looks as if he had fallen in and been
consumed." We went over to see and things did have that appearance, as
the roof had fallen in and the pit was a mass of flame. The Chinaman
must have taken the rejection of his suit very much to heart to have
destroyed himself by such a horrid route.

That same day Shenandoah rode off to Makawao on Lani's horse and
reported the death of Leong Sing and swore out a complaint charging
Frank Willoughby with the murder.

A constable came over and took Frank away and when the coroner's inquest
was held the jury returned a verdict: "died by the hands of some one
unknown to us." At the examination before the magistrate Shenandoah and
Joe Edwards both swore to having repeatedly heard Frank Willoughby
threaten to kill the Chinaman and the magistrate held Frank without bail
to be tried by the next Circuit Court at Lahaina. He was taken off over
the mountains by a policeman. Joe Edwards skipped out for fear he might
be also arrested, for his threats were as pronounced as Frank's.

When Frank and the guard got into Lahaina he sent for an old friend of
his father's who was practicing law there and he persuaded the Circuit
Judge to accept bail as there had been no body found and no cause for
the calling of a coroner's jury and that the magistrate merely acted on
the hearsay of a pair who were jealous of the prisoner.

Frank went home with Farwell and the latter advised him to return home
to New York saying that he had frequently written to him advising such a
course and his parents were exceedingly anxious about him. Frank refused
to skip his bail and determined to stand trial like a man.

Within two weeks the Chinaman, Leong Sing, came in with his uncle who
had gone to search into the matter and Frank was ordered discharged. The
Chinaman had felt so heartbroken that he had wandered away up the ravine
and climbed up on a ridge and kept on walking until he met a heavy
shower and as it is pretty cold up there he turned to go back.
Unfortunately he did not take the same ridge down, a thing likely enough
to occur, as he had walked so far as to have passed the heads of several
ravines, and keeping too much to the right had brought up the following
night at Halehaku, some six miles from his point of departure. The
natives took care of him and in a few days he was enabled to get a horse
and return to camp to the agreeable surprise of the rest of us.

Frank took Mr. Farwell's advice and went straight home to New York.
Years afterwards we were riding from Waihee to Lahaina by way of
Kahakuloa and arriving at the latter village we felt as if some fish and
poi would taste good. It was a dilapidated looking place and the
shanties were hardly improvements on pigsties, but we decided that it
was better to eat there than to risk going farther and finding none.

We stopped at the best looking shanty and were told they would prepare
us some _opihi_, a shell fish abundant on the rocks there, the sale of
which is about the only source of livelihood of the few inhabitants.

Imagine our surprise when we were called to eat to find that our hostess
was none other than Lani and that Shenandoah was our host and that their
eleven little black offsprings were the kids we saw perched on the
fence.

Lani was an old fagged out woman without any traces of the belle she had
been, and Shenandoah was blacker and uglier than ever. "Apples of
Sodom," said my friend, and we paid for our opihi and poi and departed."

                                                           J. W. GIRVIN.




Legend
of
Hiku i Kanahele


Above the long sloping hills of Kona where the coffee grows luxuriantly,
on the stately mountain of Hualalai, he lived, this Hiku I Kanahele.
That he existed there can be no doubt, for the Kamaainas will tell you
the most remarkable stories concerning him, which have been cherished
with all the old-time love of romance to the present matter-of-fact age,
handed down from generation to generation. They will tell you also that
his father Ku was a Demi-God and his mother Hina a Demi-Goddess, and
will eagerly show you a romantic relic of the past at the foot of the
mountain, the Ke Ana o Hina--Cave of Hina, and will point out to you on
the Kona coast, not far from Kailua, with its soft, dreamy warm
atmosphere and enchanting bay, the palace where Hiku and his bride
resided.

Ku and Hina had two children: Hiku, kane, and Kawelu, wahine, she being
many years his junior. Hiku, however, did not know of her existence, for
when a very little kaikamahine she was given to the care of the brave
Chief of Holualoa, who reared her as his own child.

Beautiful as the sunrise was Kawelu, with eyes as large, soft and brown
as the heart of a sunflower, tall, and graceful as the palms which
swayed in the murmuring breezes in her palace garden, with a disposition
sweet as the maile wreaths and ohia leis her maidens wove to adorn her
jet-black hair, or wind around her willowy shapely form.

Many were the young chiefs who sought her favors, but for all she had
only smiles of friendship, though at times, with the wanton coquetry
innate in the heart of every beautiful woman, she would smile archly and
invitingly upon some handsome Alii, then regard him with a saucy
indifference which made her doubly precious in his eyes. Agile as she
was beautiful, her equal could not be found throughout the Isle in
athletic games. Often, in the pastime of throwing the spear, had she
evaded half a dozen of these dangerous weapons cast at her at once,
catching some with her hands, warding off or eluding the others. None
could hurl the arrows so dextrously as she, nor ride so swiftly on the
holua down the steep hills, and few cared to leap from such lofty rocks
into the swollen streams; and she would think it a light task to swim
for miles upon the gently swelling waters of the blue ocean, saying with
a merry laugh that the dreaded Mano was her good friend. But the pastime
she loved best of all was surf riding, and so wondrously expert was she
in this exhilarating sport, and so beautiful did she appear standing
erect on her board on the crest of an incoming wave, breaking in snowy
foam all around her, so like a radiant Nymph or Goddess freshly risen
from the seething waters, that the onlookers would burst into thunderous
applause, calling her Kawelu the Beautiful, which was borne echoing up
the mountain for many miles; and it was there in his home on the
mountain top that Hiku heard these strange sounds wafted thither by the
vagrant winds. Often had he asked his mother what they meant, but always
evasive were her answers, for well she knew, with her wonderful power of
divining the future, what the result would be if he should know. But at
last, so persistent were his queries, she told him the sounds he heard
were the voices of the people, applauding the most lovely wahine in all
the world, praising her beauty and skill as she rode on the waves, and
that this beautiful maiden was his own sister. Then a great warm desire
filled his breast, and he said: "I must go to her; I must see this
charming sister of mine, and ride with her on the waves." With commands
and entreaties Hina endeavored to detain him, but to no purpose. Then
she told him they would fall in love with each other, and that would
bring great pilikia, for it was considered then a proper thing for the
chiefs to make love to and marry their own sisters.

The next day Hiku departed for the coast with a surf board made by his
father. Being descended from the Gods he had all their innate beauty of
form and cleverness; and the manner in which he rode the waves called
forth the plaudits of the assembled crowd again and again.

Kawelu, who at this time was indolently lying on the royal mats in the
palace, her shapely form being lomilomied by her attentive maids,
inquired why the people applauded so heartily, and on being told there
had come a stranger to the shore as strong and graceful and athletic as
a God, and that he was riding her favorite nalu, which were tabu to
those not of Royal birth, hastily encircled her slender waist with her
pa'u, and with the Leipalaoa around her neck (an ivory insignia of
royalty enclosed in human hair), hurried to the beach, and there upon
the white gleaming crests of her own nalu saw the most handsome youth
her liquid eyes smiled upon with a malo around his loins, borne swiftly
towards her, landing almost at her feet. Their eyes met, and both stood
still as though transfixed by some delightful sensation, then with a
sudden joyous impulse she took the Leipalaoa from her bosom and threw it
around his neck, expressing a desire for him, it being a privilege,
graciously accorded her royal station, to ask whom she pleased to be her
lover. Hiku with all the fervor of the poetical nature returned her
impromptu affection, for she appeared to him like one of his beautiful
ancestors, who were Gods and Goddesses, of whom Ku and Hina had told him
marvellous stories in his boyhood.

The happy lovers repaired to the Chief, the foster father of Kawelu, and
when he learned of Hiku's exalted station readily gave consent to their
union.

Several months sped swiftly by, never had time tripped along so merrily,
his jaunty footsteps being hastened by hilarious luaus where hulas were
sung and danced; and throughout the happy period the two lovers nestled
together like a pair of cooing doves, never out of each other's
presence. None amongst the hundreds of guests could dance the hulas with
such ease and grace, nor sing so harmoniously; and when linked arm in
arm as they rode on their surf boards on the hissing breakers, their
handsome forms erect and stately, they seemed to the wondering gazers
like the offspring of the Gods from some mystic realm beyond the waste
of waters surrounding their tranquil isle or from one of the millions of
moving worlds that shone above at night, which ever filled them with awe
and amazement.

But there comes a time in the sweetest moments of our lives when the
causes which induced them cease to operate, when Love itself grows tired
of loving. Hiku had never before been so long away from his parents, and
having drank to satiety of the love of his graceful Kawelu, a strong
yearning filled his heart to see his mother Hina, a yearning which
increased daily, till at length he told his affectionate bride that he
must leave her for awhile. With tears and entreaties she implored him to
stay, fearing this was a ruse to abandon her, that he no longer wished
her caresses; but he became sullen and obstinate, and one day at sunrise
he stealthily left the couch of his sweet young wife, whose eyes were
softly closed in blissful slumber.

Kawelu awoke; Hiku was gone, and whither? Perhaps forever? These were
the thoughts which swiftly filled her mind, and caused her eyes to weep
rivers of tears. Then she wildly prayed to the Gods to bring him back to
her aching bosom, and finding no response, set out alone along the
mountain trail towards his home, where she surmised he was journeying.
But Hiku with his natural intuition knew of her design, and calling to
his aid the clouds he bade them intercept her path, and the rain he bade
fall to make slippery the ground for her feet, and the branches of the
trees and the ferns and vines to detain her. Despite these obstacles,
with all Love's fond foolishness, Kawelu followed her recreant lover for
many hours, to sink at last exhausted on the cold wet earth, her soft
skin torn by the thorny bushes and branches of the ohias, and her long
silken hair tossed wildly around her form where the ieie vine had
clutched it as she passed. Salt tears flowed from her eyes; her rosy
morning dream of Love had vanished, and the black despair of night had
taken its place. Calling loudly in the unbroken silence of the forest
for her lover, she chanted the following lines pathetically:

  Pii ana Hiku i ke kualono,
  Ka lala e kau kolo ana;
  I keekeehiia e ka ua,
  Helelei ka pua ilalo,
  E Hiku hoi e,
  Hoi mai kaua e!

Which roughly translated are as follows:

  Hiku has gone up the mountain,
  Where the long winding branches are creeping,
  And the blossoms fall thickly around
  Where the rain on the branches is weeping:
  Oh Hiku! come back to me!

The radiant tropic morning has dawned, the sun has kissed the raindrops
from the faces of the flowers, but on the sweet gentle face of Kawelu
the raindrops of her heart still fall unceasingly! Vainly her father
tries to soothe her grief, for he had found her weeping and shivering on
the lonely mountain side; vainly her maids cluster around with soft
words of condolence. At length she sleeps, and they leave her, praying
to the Gods to take away this great sorrow, to make her again the warm
ray of sunshine, gladdening all with which it came in contact. When they
returned Kawelu was dead! Grieved beyond endurance by her tragic loss
she sought release in Death for this maddening pain her heart could
never hold, fastening with her own gentle fingers around her smooth
round throat the death-inducing cord!

Hiku had greeted his mother Hina with a kiss, but she bent upon him
reproachful eyes, and said "My son, you have killed your sister; already
she lies dead through loss of you! You must now go and try to undo the
great wrong you have committed." Then Hiku in despair rushed down the
mountain accompanied by Ku, and reaching the palace of his beautiful
Kawelu found his mother's words to be true, and with loud manifestations
of grief had her body placed in a dark cool room which was tabu to all.

By his superior intuition Ku discerned Kawelu's soul had gone to Aina
Milu, a region of pleasure in the underwood, a place where the spirits
of those who break Nature's laws go at death, where no sun ever shines.
The entrance to this realm of shades he found to be in the fertile
valley of Waipio, and thither he and the now distracted Hiku swiftly
sped, gathering as they went the Kowali vine, weaving of it a stout
rope. On the side of the valley they discovered a large hole (pointed
out by the natives to the present day) which Ku said was the entrance to
this darksome world of festive spirits. Hiku unwound his huge coil of
rope with the delicate blue and white Kowali flowers entwined in its
strands, and prepared to descend into the dark pit. Previous to doing
so, however, he provided himself with an empty cocoanut shell, and
rubbed his body all over with some rotten kukui nut oil, which emitted a
most offensive odor, and with a kukui nut for a light, whilst Ku firmly
held the rope, he descended into the blackness.

On reaching the bottom he found himself in a gloomy region amidst thorny
trees without leaves and fruit, dry and barren, with a close heavy
stifling atmosphere, whose odor excited the senses and produced an
intense thirst. Countless numbers of spirits were gathered there, all
active and restless, engaged in the very games they were fond of on
earth. A great luau was being prepared, where thousands of phantom pigs
and chickens were cooking in fires that gave no light. The Demon King
Milu was going that night to marry a beautiful fresh young soul who had
just arrived in his weird realm; and looking towards the throne of the
king Hiku in dismay saw she was none other than his own lost bride.

Much excitement was created by the presence of Hiku, but he smelled so
badly of the rotten kukui nuts that the spirits did not care to approach
very closely, designing him "Ke akua pilau,"--the bad smelling ghost.

The merry game of Kilu was going on at the time, and in a few moments
his presence was forgotten in its absorbing delights. The game is one of
love, a wahine taking in her hand a small ball, with which she endeavors
to strike the kanaka she desires, chanting at the same time a verse of a
song, and if successful he becomes her immediate lover.

Kawelu was still seated on the elevated throne, holding in her dainty
fingers the little ball which was the promoter of this intense
merriment. Her mobile lips were chanting a cooing refrain, one which she
and Hiku together had composed on earth in the glad days of their brief
wedded life. In the midst of it she stopped, and he took up the chant,
all the others remaining silent, as the song was unknown to them.
Instantly she called in a tremulous voice, "Who is this that sings;" as
though some forgotten memory had wakened in her soul. No one spoke; then
she left her place and went amongst the throng, looking into each face
until she came to Hiku, who was crouching low, when she stopped, but
finding in him a bad-smelling ghost she returned and recommenced the
chant. Again she paused a moment when half through, and once more Hiku
took up the refrain. Kawelu was intensely agitated; this time she
observed it was the bad-smelling spirit who chanted the remainder of her
melody, and again approached him, but he during this time had made a
swing of his long rope and was swiftly swinging backwards and forwards,
to the delight of the clustering spirits who had never seen anything of
the kind before. "How smart the bad-smelling ghost is," they said,
whilst Kawelu clapped her hands delightedly at the performance,
expressing a desire to get on the swing; but Hiku, disguising his voice,
said "this is a very difficult thing to learn; you might injure yourself
seriously if you tried it without my help; if you sit in my lap I will
swing you, then afterwards you can swing by yourself." But the swinging
spirit smelled so strongly she would not accept his invitation until
they had placed a long wrapper around him, when she did as he suggested.
Higher and higher Hiku sent the swing; with all the strength of his
nervy, muscular, frame he propelled it back and forth, holding Kawelu
close to his heart the while, which was beating rapidly with trembling
hopes. Suddenly he pulled on the rope, the signal agreed on with his
father to haul him up, and immediately, still moving in long tremendous
sweeps, the swing rose high in the air, higher and higher each instant,
amidst the alarmed shouts of the subjects of Milu, whose shrill cries
echoed gruesomely along the avenues of foliageless trees, "He is
stealing the King's wahine, he is stealing the King's wahine." Milu
leaped madly forward to snatch her from his arms, but slipped on the
Kilu ball, which lay on the ground, he fell heavily forward, and was
trampled under the feet of his excited minions, and swift as were their
movements, the marvellous strength of Ku, hauling up the swing, was more
availing, for it shot up the black shaft with lightning rapidity, the
startled Kawelu struggling wildly to escape, Hiku clasping her tightly
to his breast, holding her easily in his strong grasp, chanting some
mystic words whereby she became smaller and smaller, until he held her
in the hollow of his hand, when he forced her into the empty cocoanut
shell, and holding his fingers firmly over the hole safely returned to
earth, glad to escape from the gloom of this underworld of unwholesome
mirth and ceaseless revelry. Quickly they turned their faces towards
Hualalai, looking in the distance like a dark ominous shadow, and before
many hours their anxious feet echoed in the chamber where lay the mute
body of Kawelu, still under strict tabu, no dog having barked in the
vicinity of its sacred precincts, nor foot of man passed by the spot,
since their departure.

The spirit leaves the body through the eyes, through the little holes in
the corners of the eyes nearest the nose, when Death calls it. This Ku
and Hiku knew, but they also knew that the spirit cannot return in the
same manner, that it must find its way, if ever it returns, into its
earthly tenement of flesh and blood through the hollow in the sole of
the foot. Placing the cocoanut there, and removing his finger from the
hole, Hiku commanded the spirit of his beloved Kawelu to enter her body,
lying there so pathetically cold and still that the tears sprang to his
eyes as he gazed. The spirit went as far as the knee, when it returned;
again he commanded it to enter, and this time it went to the hip, but
could go no further. Once again he commanded the spirit to seek an
entrance, and with fluttering heart and motionless limbs awaited the
outcome of those terribly anxious moments, for well he knew how many
were the chances of the soul being lost in the intricate channels of the
body, then to his unbounded joy he perceived a slight pulsing movement
of the eyelids, then a gradual unveiling of her liquid dark-brown orbs,
as she murmured, "Why did you wake me; I had so pleasant a sleep; why
did you not let me rest;" but when she felt the warm-impassioned kisses
of her lover on her cold lips, and heard his voice sounding in her ears
like rare music she vaguely remembered having heard before under sweet
conditions, breathing protestations of affection and love, and when his
warm tears of joyous thankfulness fell on her smooth velvetry cheek, she
awoke to a full realization of the tranquil bliss of love, of the
delicious unspeakable harmony poets vainly endeavor to describe,
remembering vividly the weird events of the past few days, and her arms
twined lovingly around the form of her own Hiku, on whose trembling
bosom she softly nestled.

Centuries have passed; Hiku and Kawelu no longer exist on this plane of
action, but whilst the Hawaiian race endures will live the story of
their love, and the spectral past with its warriors and gods, and its
warm love and worship and song and story will ever be brilliantly
reflected in their hearts. The lovers lived to a mellow old age, ever
faithful to each other, blessed with a numerous offspring, from whom the
kings of Hawaii claimed descent. And the old kamaainas will earnestly
tell you that every bit of this romantic story is absolutely true.

                                                               MAURICIO.




Story
of a
Brave Woman


Three riders came out of the woods, and, turning into the road leading
from Napoopoo to the uplands, slowly began the ascent. As they went up,
the long plains, reaching from the forest covered heights of Mauna Loa
to the ocean, seemed to grow broader, and the sea rose higher, till the
far away horizon almost touched the sinking sun. Lanes of glassy water
stretched from the shore into illimitable distance. A ship lying
motionless looked as if hanging in mid-air. Under the cliff the delicate
lines of cocoanut and palm trees were silhouetted against the ocean
mirror. Far to the south ran the black and frowning coast, relieved here
and there by white lines of foam creeping lazily in from the ocean, only
to look darker as the surf melted from sight. On the plain, little
clusters of trees, or a house, or a thin curl of smoke, indicated the
presence of men: and back of all rose the forest, vast, dim and
mysterious, stretching away for miles till lost in the clouds resting
softly on the bosom of the mountain.

Such a scene could not fail to arrest attention, and, though our riders
were tired, they reined in their horses to enjoy its quiet beauty.

"What a wonderful scene! I have been through Europe, feasted my eyes on
the Alps, and have seen the finest that America can produce, but I never
saw its equal," said the tourist.

"It looks as if such a picture might be the theatre of thrilling romance
and history" said the Coffee Planter. "Is it not here that Captain Cook
was killed? And I think I have heard that a famous battle was fought
somewhere near: the last struggle of the past against advancing
Christianity."

"Yes," replied the Native, slowly, with a lingering look in his eyes, as
he turned from the inspiring view to his companions. "Yes, this is all
historic ground. Over there under the setting sun, at Kuamoo, was fought
the battle of Kekuaokalani, and there a heroic woman braved and met
death with her husband, a rebel chief. On these plains below and on
yonder heights there have been many thrilling scenes in Hawaii's
history. But all of the romance is not in the past. Do you see those
houses away down the coast, this side of the high lands of Honokua? See
how they glow in the setting sun-light. That is Hookena, and only a few
years ago it witnessed the last act in a simple drama, which can hardly
be excelled in all the tales of heroism in the past. It was told me in
part by the woman who was or is the heroine, for she yet lives. And I
looked at her in wonder, because she was so unconscious of it all."

"Let us hear the story," said the Planter. "We will sit on that high
point and watch this glorious scene fade into moonlight, while we rest
and listen." They dismounted and stepped from the road to a projecting
rock and, throwing themselves on the grass where none of the wonderful
vision could be missed, listened. The Native looked a little embarrassed
at his sudden transformation from guide to story-teller, but accepted
the position and began.

"Many years ago a native family lived a few miles above Hookena, on land
which had been occupied by their ancestors for generations, for they
belonged to the race of chiefs. The house was hidden from the road, in
the midst of a grove of orange, bread-fruit, mango, banana and other
trees. It is on storied ground, for many stirring events in the past
history of Hawaii had occurred here. A son and three daughters were the
children. They received more than the usual care and attention given to
Hawaiian children, and had grown to man and womanhood serious and
reflective. The young man, Keawe, was filled with a desire to do
something noble for his dying race. Though he had travelled over the
Islands and had been well received everywhere, yet he was heart-free,
and said he would never marry, but wait untrammelled till his time for
action should come. With eagerness he watched political developments at
the capital. His heart beat wildly when the last Kamehameha died, and
Kalakaua was elected King. Such a method of King-making did not suit his
chivalric ideas. The records of personal prowess, of brave chiefs and
noble women were his delight. He mourned that such records belonged to
the well nigh forgotten past. His ambition was not ignoble. He wanted
the Hawaiians to be worthy of the best civilization, to maintain a
Hawaiian kingdom, because that the native was equal to it. While he
mourned, he condemned the frequent failures, under which the native was
forfeiting the confidence of his white friends. He was one of the
overwhelming majority who regarded Kalakaua's accession as unworthy, and
as the beginning of the end of Hawaiian supremacy.

One day, while fishing at the beach where he was doing more dreaming
than fishing; sometimes idly watching a laughing company of girls who
were bathing and surf-riding; he was startled by a cry of terror.
Springing to his feet, he saw that one of the girls was desperately
struggling to swim ashore, where her affrighted companions were running
wildly about crying for help. Looking toward the sea he saw a large fin
on the surface rapidly following the swimmer. Accustomed to every
athletic sport; perfectly at home in the water; always cool and self
possessed, he saw, that to overtake her, the shark must pass a low rocky
headland, and in an instant he was there with a long knife in his hand.
He remembered seeing the face of the girl as she struggled desperately
to escape. There was a single terrified glance, but he saw a beautiful
woman, with a face indicating a higher type than usual. There was no
time for admiration. The shark was turning and, with a horrid open
mouth, was about to rush upon its victim. He gave a loud shout, jumped
full upon the huge beast, and in an instant had plunged his knife to the
hilt again and again into its body. Then he was hurled into the seething
brine, as the frightened animal with frantic plunges rushed seaward.
Coming to the surface and looking about he saw the body of the girl near
by. He thought her dead. She was indeed stunned and hurt, for the shark
gave her a fearful blow in turning. It was the work of only a minute to
drag her out. There for a moment he saw the full measure of her youth
and beauty, but did not wait for returning consciousness. Seeing that
she was recovering he walked swiftly away.

But he was wounded, and, denounce and reproach himself as he would, the
sweet face ever and anon came before his eyes, and sent the blood
tingling and dancing through his veins. He tried to crush out the image,
and determined to enter into active life; to cease dreaming, and begin
then and at once to accomplish his high aims.

The political campaign, culminating in the election of 1886, had
commenced. Kalakaua had announced the aim of his reign: to increase and
develope the Hawaiian people. "Hawaii for the Hawaiians" made an
inspiring war cry. Keawe entered with energy and hope into the conflict.
Yet it troubled him, and it seemed as if there was something wrong in
opposing the noble Pilipo, who had so long faithfully represented the
people of Kona in the National Legislature. But Kalakaua declared that
Pilipo must be replaced by another man, and was himself coming to assist
in the conflict. With the ancient faith and confidence in the chief,
Keawe put aside his doubts and worked day and night for the success of
the holy cause. It was holy to him and as the day of election drew near,
his belief grew stronger, that at last a deliverer had come and Hawaii
was to be redeemed. Already he saw, in a bright future, a government by
Hawaiians with full friendship for all nations, and cordial relations
with those who had helped his people into the best light of
civilization. The King came, and with him a troop of palace guards from
Honolulu. When all of these were, by the royal will, duly registered as
voters, and means, other than argument and persuasion, were used to help
on the good cause, a chilly sense of something wrong cooled Keawe's
ardor. He met the King and was cordially received. His heart bounded
with pleasure at words of praise for his work. An invitation to a feast
and dance was accepted, and only when he went and saw, did he realize
the mockery and sham behind the fine words. Heart sick, dizzy with a
sore disappointment, early the next morning, when all were sleeping, he
mounted his horse and stole away, alone. The cold mountain air relieved
the pain in his head, but his heart was weary and the future looked
dark. He saw that if there was momentary triumph, all the sooner
disaster must come; and he longed to know how to avert the danger. He
grew weary thinking and trying to hope, and his thoughts went to other
things. Again he was in the water, struggling to save her life. Again
the sweet face appeared before him, so fair and gentle. The sun was hot
now; he had ridden for hours, and, alighting, threw himself on the grass
and looked up through the leafy bower at the bright sky. Perhaps he
slept; at any rate he dreamed that a sweet voice was singing "Aloha oe."
He sat up and listened. It was not a dream, and a strong desire to see
the face of the singer possessed him. The voice drew nearer, then she
passed near by carrying a pitcher, and went to a spring. It was the girl
he had saved from the shark! She wore a loose flowing gown of white, and
a maile branch twisted about her head hardly confined the silky hair
which floated down her back. A coral pin held the gown at her neck.
Short sleeves only partly hid her graceful and shapely arms.

Keawe arose and stood watching. His heart beat tumultuously. No other
woman had so strongly moved him, and now he would speak and not run
again. A movement startled her, and rising with the dripping pitcher in
her hand, she turned and saw him. That she knew him was instantly
evident; but her eyes modestly dropped and she moved as if to go. But he
was in the path, and, seeing that, she hesitated and turned to go
through the woods, but could not and stood again, looking at her feet
which just peeped from below the gown. Keawe stepped towards her and
said, "Do you remember the shark?" "Yes, I know you," she replied. Her
eyes said more and he saw it again. As he stepped nearer she said, "Why
did you not let me thank you? I thought you might come." It flashed
through his mind that he had wasted two months pursuing an ignis fatuus,
only to have nothing but bitterness at the end, when it might have been
----! "I was afraid to come," he replied. "I wanted to work for Hawaii
and our people." "Yes, I know," she said. "You have spoken bravely. All
Kona trusts in your words!" "Did you believe them?" he quickly asked.
"Do you believe in _me_?" A look was her reply. "Will you believe in me
if I say that I have done with 'Hawaii for the Hawaiians', under such
leadership?" "I will always believe in you. But come, you are tired. My
father will be glad to meet you," she said quickly. "May I drink?" he
said, and held out his hand. She gave him the pitcher, which he held and
looked at the pretty figure standing near the spring. "You are Rebecca
at the well." "And are you Abraham's servant?" "No, I am Isaac himself,"
he replied and tried to take her hand. "Oh! but Isaac did not meet
Rebecca at the well!" And, laughing merrily, she ran down the path
towards her home. He followed but though he wanted, the opportunity for
other words did not come; she was so coy.

It was not the only visit. Very often did business calls take him along
that lovely mountain road and there was always a welcome at the home of
Lilia. He told her of his love, and in April they were married.

They built a little cottage which nestled snugly in a quiet valley on
the mountain side, and there they passed a few months of perfect
happiness. All loved them. He was regarded as the wise adviser and
friend of the country-side. She became the gentle sister of those who
were ill, or suffering or wayward, and their home was the center of an
influence which helped and lifted.

But a shadow came into their lives. He grew silent, reserved, almost
afraid of his beautiful Lilia. She watched with eager anxiety and
entreated his confidence, but his lips were sealed. Only his tremulous
voice and shaking hand betrayed suffering. Sometimes she fancied that
his hands grew palsied and his bright eye was dim, but repelled the
fancy with terror. One day he came home with such a look that her heart
stood still, and words died upon her lips. He gazed into her eyes with
passionate agony and, taking her hands, said, "Will you still believe in
me if I say we must part; that I must leave you and go away, and you
must stay here and live out your life--your precious life, so dear to
me--all, all alone?" Then her courage came, and she said, "No, I will
never leave you. You are mine. I must go too, wherever you go!" "But,"
said he, "I have seen the examining surgeon to-day, and he says that I
must go by the next trip of the steamer to Honolulu." And then the full
measure of her woe dawned upon the stricken wife. With unutterable
anguish she threw her arms about his body and clasped him tightly to her
breast. "I was allowed to come here and prepare to go, and to bid a last
farewell to all I hold so dear. I shall never see these trees, the
flowers, this house, my friends, nor you, my precious wife, again." But
her face had grown hard and stern, and, relaxing her hold, she told her
plan. It was to take him into a far off deep recess in the woods. There
was up the mountain side a deep crater, overgrown with trees, ferns,
vines and a wild luxuriance of growth, which kindly nature had draped so
softly that its hideousness was lost. It was considered inaccessible,
and only the family knew of an ancient lava cavern which entered its
deepest recess. One of several mouths of the cavern was near the house.
"But the law says that I must go," he urged. "There is no law higher than
my love for you," and he yielded to her imperious urgency. Quickly and
stealthily she carried there such articles as the simplest life might
require, and a few days later, when the officers of the law came, Keawe
was not to be found and no one knew where they had gone.

With untiring love the wife watched and aided her husband. Together they
built a little bower out of view from the upper edges of the crater,
under the spreading branches of a kukui tree. A little pool, fed by the
constant drip from the over-hanging wall, supplied them with pure water.
Near at hand, under a mass of ferns, maile and ieie, was the mouth of
the cavern. She grew familiar with its turns and windings, till she
almost dared to brave its black recesses without a torch. In one of its
dry and sheltered windings, she stored articles of food and clothing,
thinking that sometime a watch might be stationed at the home on the
hill-side, and she could not venture out. But days melted into weeks;
weeks became months: two years passed, and their hiding place was not
discovered. No one came, though Keawe often longed to see the faces of
friends. But they were afraid to venture near and the cavern echoed only
to her feet, and the silence of the deep pit was only broken by their
voices and the music of birds. At times, a sudden gust rushed down the
steep sides and every tree waved and bowed its head, and the leaves of
the banana rustled and quivered. The sun-light only touched the bottom
in summer and then for a few minutes only. But it was not gloomy, the
glorious sky was always there and the brilliant light, and bloom and
fragrance filled the air. No, it was not always bright, sometimes
tempests whirled far over their heads; trees in the world above tossed
their branches over the abyss, leaves and twigs fell gently, or
branches, and once, a tree, were hurled down with deafening noise. The
roar of thunder, and vast sheets and torrents of rain filled the pit.
Once, in a still night, they were startled and terrified by a sudden
boom far below their feet and the earth shook, stones rattled down the
rocky sides of the abyss, and they remembered the dread power of the
volcano. "It is Pele! she is angry with us!" cried Lilia. "No," replied
her husband, "we have thrown ourselves into the protecting bosom of the
Goddess! We are safe in her arms." They were safe from human sight and
interference, and Lilia's soul feasted in the presence of him she loved.
She poured out upon him such a wealth of devotion, that a miser might
have envied. But alas, though safe from man, he was under the fell power
of disease, and slowly yielded. Day after day he grew weaker and less
able to help himself, until the fond wife performed the most menial
tasks. But they were not menial to her. Every thing for him was a glory
and a joy.

"I cannot last long," he said one day, "and I want you to have my lands.
Get your mother's young husband, the lawyer, to come, that it may be
settled." He came, and, looking wonderingly about, prepared a deed which
he said would accomplish the object. Keawe was not satisfied. "It sounds
wrong--why should the name of your wife appear?" he asked. "She is your
wife's mother," was the reply, "and you cannot convey to your wife
direct. When this deed is recorded my wife can then convey to your wife.
You must hurry or it will be too late," said the coming man. With some
doubt still, but trusting to his friend's good faith, knowing he was
alone cut off from all the world, Keawe signed, and the deed was taken
away. Patiently they waited for weeks to finish the business, "and
then," said Keawe, "you will have a home." But the lawyer did not come,
and evaded Lilia's eager questions.

One day when returning to the cavern, her heart stood still as she saw
slowly emerging from its mouth, several police officers, bearing on a
rough litter the helpless form of her beloved Keawe. At a glance she saw
the whole base deception. Her step-father had betrayed their secret
hiding place, and the end had come! With a frantic wail of despair, she
flung herself at their feet and begged and implored. But her entreaties
were vain, and the sick man was taken to Hookena where the steamer was
waiting. At the landing, as the boat drew near the shore, she learned
that he was to go alone and then her grief knew no bounds. As he was put
on board and turned imploring eyes on her, she made a desperate attempt
to go too, and in her struggle her clothing was almost torn away. The
officers of the law thought they were doing their duty, but their eyes
were full of pity. "Keawe! Oh Keawe, my beloved husband!" she cried,
"let me go with you!" But no answer came. The steamer turned her head
towards the sea, and he was gone. She fell to the earth, and lay with
buried face for many minutes. It seemed to her that nothing was left and
bitterly she mourned her loss. But suddenly starting, she asked eagerly
for a horse, which was furnished at once by a sympathetic friend.
Mounting, she went without stopping for rest or food until, on the
second day, Kawaihae was reached. Soon a steamer came, and she went to
Honolulu, only to hear on landing that Keawe had died on the trip down.
Giving way to despair, she dejected sought the house of an aunt, where
she was kindly received, and there she remained for several months."

"And that is the story," said the Native.

"It is rather sad, but she was a heroine sure enough," said the Planter.

The pale light of the crescent moon served only to render the landscape
shadowy. All nature rested: An owl fluttered slowly by and a soft murmur
from far below told that the restless sea alone moved. There was no
other sound. The riders mounted and silently stole away.

                                                             THE NATIVE.




  Transcriber's note:

  The transcriber has corrected typographical errors from the original
  book and listed them here.

  On page 15, "wont" changed to "won't."

  On page 30, "statue" changed to "stature."

  On page 33, "waived" changed to "waved."

  On page 34, "mightest" changed to "mightiest."

  On page 36, "then" changed to "them."

  On page 48, "wesminster" changed to "Westminster."

  On page 73, "parisitic" changed to "parasitic."

  On page 73, "convolvulous" changed to "convolvulus."

  On page 94, "gentlefingers" changed to "gentle fingers."

  On page 97, "grief" changed to "brief."

  On page 100, "unyholesome" changed to "unwholesome."

  On page 102, "velvetry" changed to "velvety."

  On page 121, a quotation mark was added ("It sounds wrong--why should
  the name of your wife appear?")






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