Kelea, of whom in the past the bards of Oahu and Maui loved to sing,
was the beautiful but capricious sister of Kawao, king of Maui,
who in about A.D. 1445, at the age of twenty-five, succeeded to the
sovereignty of that island. Their royal father was Kahekili I., the
son of Kakae, who, with his brother, Kakaalaneo, was the joint ruler of
the little realm from about 1380 to 1415. Kakae was the rightful heir
to the moiship, and, as such, his son Kahekili succeeded him; but as
an accident in his youth had somewhat impaired his mental faculties,
Kakaalaneo became, through the expressed will of the dying Kamaloohua,
the joint ruler and virtual sovereign of the kingdom. He had sons
and daughters of his own; but he loved his weak-minded brother, and
respected the line of legitimate succession, and when the black kapa
covered him, Kahekili became king of Maui and Lanai; for during that
period the latter island was under the protection of the mois of Maui,
while Molokai still maintained its independence.
Kakaalaneo was noted for his business energy and strict sense of
justice. The court of the brothers was established at Lahaina--then
known as Lele--and was one of the most respected in all the group. It
was Kakaalaneo who introduced the bread-fruit there from Hawaii,
and won the love of the people by continuous acts of mercy and
benevolence. For some disrespect shown to his royal brother, whose
mental weakness doubtless subjected him to unkind remarks, he banished
his son Kaululaau to Lanai, which island, tradition avers, was at
that time infested by powerful and malignant spirits. They killed
pigs and fowls, uprooted cocoanut-trees and blighted taro patches,
and a gigantic and mischievous gnome amused himself by gliding like
a huge mole under the huts of his victims and almost upsetting them.
The priests tried in vain to quiet these malicious spirits. No sooner
were they exorcised away from one locality than they appeared in
another, and if they gave the taro patches a rest it was only to
tear the unripe bananas from their stems, or rend the walls and
embankments of artificial ponds, that their stores of fishes might
escape to the sea. Aware of these grievances, Kaululaau took with him
to Lanai a talisman of rare powers. It was the gift of his friend,
the high-priest of his father, and consisted of a spear-point that
had been dipped in the waters of Po, the land of death, and many
generations before left by Lono on one of his altars.
Crowning a long spear with this sacred point, Kaululaau attacked the
disturbing spirits, and in a short time succeeded either in bringing
them to submission or driving them from the island. The gnome Mooaleo
was the most difficult to vanquish. It avoided the prince, and for some
time managed to keep beyond the influence of the charmed spear-point;
but the monster was finally caught within the boundaries of a circular
line scratched with the talisman upon the surface of the earth beneath
which it was burrowing, and thereby brought to terms. It could not
pass the line, no matter how far below the surface it essayed to do
so. Heaving the earth in its strength and wrath, it chafed against
the charmed restraint that held it captive, and finally plunged
downward within the vertical walls of its prison. But there was no
path of escape in that direction. It soon encountered a lake of fire,
and was compelled to return to the surface, where it humbled itself
before the prince, and promised, if liberated, to quit the island for
ever. Kaululaau obliterated sixty paces of the line of imprisonment,
to enable Mooaleo to pass to the sea, into which the hideous being
plunged and disappeared, never to be seen again in Lanai.
In consideration of the great service of the exiled prince in restoring
quiet and security to the island, his father permitted him to return
to Maui, where he connected himself with the priesthood, and became
noted for his supernatural powers. The charmed spear-point is referred
to in later legends, and is thought to be still secreted with the
bones of a high-priest in a mountain cave on the island of Maui,
not far from the sacred burial-place of Iao.
But we have been straying two generations back of our story. The
legendary accounts of the ruling families of the principal islands of
the group are so threaded with romantic or fabulous incidents that, in
referring to any of the prominent actors in the past, it is difficult
to restrain the pen in its willingness to wander into the enchanted
by-ways in which the meles of the period abound.
Having alluded to the immediate ancestors of Kelea, the sister of
the young moi of Maui, we will now resume the thread of our legend by
referring somewhat more particularly to the princess herself. Brought
up in the royal court at Lahaina, with a brother only to divide the
affections of her father, Kelea was humored, petted and spoiled as
a child, and courted and flattered beyond measure as she grew to
womanhood. The meles describe her as a maiden of uncommon beauty; but
she was wayward, volatile and capricious, as might have been expected
of one so schooled and favored, and no consideration of policy or
persuasion of passion could move her to accept any one of the many
high chiefs who sought her in marriage. She loved the water--possibly
because she could see her fair face mirrored in it--and became the
most graceful and daring surf-swimmer in the kingdom. Frequently,
when the waters of Auau Channel surged wildly under the breath of the
south wind, or kona, Kelea, laughing at the fears of her brother,
would plunge into the sea with her onini, or surf-board, and so
audaciously ride the waves that those who watched and applauded
her were half-inclined to believe that she was the friend of some
water-god, and could not be drowned.
No sport was to her so enticing as a battle with the waves, and when
her brother spoke to her of marriage she gaily answered that the
surf-board was her husband, and she would never embrace any other. The
brother frowned at the answer, for he had hoped, by uniting his sister
to the principal chief of Hana, to more thoroughly incorporate in his
kingdom that portion of the island, then ruled by independent chiefs;
but by other means during his reign, it may be remarked, the union
of the two divisions was effected.
"Do not frown, Kawao," said Kelea, coaxingly; "a smile better becomes
your handsome face. I may marry some day, just to please you; but
remember what the voice said in the anu at the last feast of Lono."
"Yes, I remember," replied Kawao; "but I have sometimes believed that
when the kilo declared that in riding the surf Kelea would find a
husband, he was simply repeating an augury imparted to him by Kelea
herself."
"You will anger the gods by speaking so lightly of their words,"
returned Kelea, reproachfully; and Kawao smiled as the princess took
her leave with a dignity quite unusual with her.
Kawao loved his sister and was proud of her beauty; and while he was
anxious to see her suitably married, and felt no little annoyance at
the importunities of her suitors, he nevertheless recognized her right,
as the daughter of a king, to a voice in the selection of a husband.
But the voice from the anu was prophetic, whatever may have inspired
it; for while Kelea continued to ride the waves at Lahaina, a husband,
of the family of Kalona-iki, of Oahu, was in search of her, and to
that island we now request the reader to follow us.
There lived at that time at Lihue, in the district of Ewa, on the
island of Oahu, a chief named Lo-Lale, son of Kalona-iki, and brother
of Piliwale, the alii-nui, or nominal sovereign, of the island, whose
court was established at Waialua. Kalona-iki had married Kikinui,
and thus infused into the royal family the native and aristocratic
blood of Maweke, of the ancient line of Nanaula.
Lo-Lale was an amiable and handsome prince, but for some cause had
reached the age of thirty-five without marrying. The reason was
traced to the death by drowning, some years before, of a chiefess
of great beauty whom he was about to marry, and to whom he was
greatly attached. As he was of a gentle and poetic nature, his
disinclination to marriage may not be unreasonably attributed to
that event, especially when supported by the relation that thereafter
he abhorred the sea, and was content to remain at Lihue, beyond the
sound of its ceaseless surges.
Piliwale had passed his fiftieth year, and, having but two daughters
and no son, was more than ever desirous that his brother should marry,
that the family authority might be strengthened and the line of Kalona
perpetuated. And the friendly neighboring chiefs were equally anxious
that Lo-Lale should become the head of a family, and, to inspire him
with a disposition to marry, described with enthusiasm the beauty
of many maidens of distinguished rank whom they had met on the other
islands of the group.
To these importunities Lo-Lale finally yielded; and as a suitable wife
for so high a chief could not be found on Oahu, or, at least, one who
would be personally acceptable to him, it was necessary to seek for
her among the royal families of the other islands. Accordingly, a large
koa canoe was fitted out at Waialua, and with trusty messengers of rank
despatched to the windward islands in search of a wife for Lo-Lale. The
messengers were instructed to quietly visit the several royal courts,
and report upon the beauty, rank and eligibility of such marriageable
chiefesses of distinguished families as they might be able to discover.
Among the chiefs selected for the delicate mission, and the one upon
whose judgment the most reliance was placed, was Lo-Lale's cousin,
Kalamakua, a noble of high rank, whose lands were on the coast of
the Ewa district. He was bold, dashing and adventurous, and readily
consented to assist in finding a wife for his royal and romantic
relative.
Lo-Lale was at Waialua when the messengers embarked. He took an
encouraging interest in the expedition, and when banteringly asked by
his cousin if age would be any objection in a bride of unexceptionable
birth, replied that he had promised to take a wife solely to please
his royal brother, and any age under eighty would answer. But he did
not mean it.
"Not so," replied Piliwale, more than half in earnest. "I will not
become the uncle of a family of monsters. The bride must be as worthy
in person as in blood."
"Do you hear, Kalamakua?" said Lo-Lale, addressing his cousin, who
was standing beside the canoe, ready for departure; "do you hear the
words of Piliwale? She must be not only young but beautiful. If you
bring or give promise to any other, she shall not live at Lihue!"
"Do not fear," replied the cousin, gaily. "Whomsoever she may be,
we will keep her in the family; for if you refuse her, or she you,
I will marry her myself!"
"Fairly spoken!" exclaimed the king; "and I will see that he keeps
his promise, Lo-Lale."
Although the object of the voyage was known to but few, hundreds
gathered at the beach to witness the departure, for the canoe was
decorated, and the embarking chiefs appeared in feather capes and
other ornaments of their rank. Turning to the high-priest, who was
present, Piliwale asked him if he had observed the auguries.
"I have," replied the priest. "They are more than favorable." Then
turning his face northward, he continued: "There is peace in the
clouds, and the listless winging of yonder bird betokens favoring
winds."
Amid a chorus of alohas! the canoe dashed through the breakers
and out into the open sea, holding a course in the direction of
Molokai. Reaching that island early the next day, the party landed
at Kalaupapa. The alii-nui received them well, but inquiry led to
nothing satisfactory, and, proceeding around the island, the party
next landed on Lanai. It is probable that they were driven there by
unfavorable winds, as Lanai was a dependency of Maui at that time,
and none but subject chiefs resided on the island. However, they
remained there but one day, and the next proceeded to Hana, Maui,
with the intention of crossing over to Hawaii and visiting the court
of Kiha at Waipio. Inquiring for the moi, they learned that Kawao
had removed his court from Lahaina, for the season, to Hamakuapoko,
to enjoy the cool breezes of that locality and indulge in the
pleasures of surf-bathing. They were further informed that a large
number of chiefs had accompanied the moi to that attractive resort,
and that Kelea, sister of the king, and the most beautiful woman on
the island as well as the most daring and accomplished surf-swimmer,
was also there as one of the greatest ornaments of the court.
This was agreeable information, and the party re-embarked and arrived
the next morning off Hamakuapoko, just as the fair Kelea and her
attendants had gone down to the beach to indulge in a buffet with the
surf. Swimming out beyond the breakers, and oblivious of everything
but her own enjoyment, Kelea suddenly found herself within a few yards
of the canoe of the Oahuan chiefs. Presuming that it contained her own
people, she swam still closer, when she discovered, to her amazement,
that all the faces in the canoe were strange to her. Perceiving her
embarrassment, Kalamakua rose to his feet, and, addressing her in a
courtly and respectful manner, invited her to a seat in the canoe,
offering to ride the surf with it to the beach--an exciting and
sometimes dangerous sport, in which great skill and coolness are
required.
The language of the chief was so gentle and suggestive of the manners
of the court that the invitation was accepted, and the canoe mounted
one of the great waves successively following two of lighter bulk
and force, and was adroitly and safely beached. The achievement was
greeted with applause on the shore, and when the proposal was made to
repeat the performance Kelea willingly retained her seat. Again the
canoe successfully rode the breakers ashore, and then, through her
attendants, Kalamakua discovered that the fair and dashing swimmer
was none other than Kelea, the sister of the moi of Maui.
With increased respect Kalamakua again invited his distinguished
guest to join in the pleasure and excitement of a third ride over
the breakers. She consented, and the canoe was once more pulled out
beyond the surf, where it remained for a moment, awaiting a high,
combing roller on which to be borne to the landing. One passed and
was missed, and before another came a squall, or what was called a
mumuku, suddenly struck the canoe, rendering it utterly unmanageable
and driving it out upon the broad ocean.
When the canoe started Kelea would have leaped into the sea had she
not been restrained; but Kalamakua spoke so kindly to her--assuring
her that they would safely ride out the storm and return to
Hamakuapoko--that she became calmer, and consented to curl down beside
him in the boat to escape the fury of the winds. Her shapely limbs
and shoulders were bare, and her hair, braided and bound loosely back,
was still wet, and grew chilling in the wind where it fell. Kalamakua
took from a covered calabash a handsome kihei, or mantle, and wrapped
it around her shoulders, and then seated her in the shelter of his
own burly form. She smiled her thanks for these delicate attentions,
and the chief was compelled to admit to himself that the reports of
her great beauty had not been exaggerated. He could recall no maiden
on Oahu who was her equal in grace and comeliness, and felt that,
could she be secured for his eccentric cousin, his search would be
at an end. He even grew indignant at the thought that she might not
prove acceptable, but smiled the next moment at his promise to marry
the girl himself should she be refused by his cousin.
But the fierce mumuku afforded him but little time to indulge such
dreams. The sea surged in fury, and like a cockleshell the canoe was
tossed from one huge wave to another. The spray was almost blinding,
and, while Kalamakua kept the little craft squarely before the wind as
a measure of first importance, his companions were earnestly employed
in alternately baling and trimming as emergency suggested.
On, on sped the canoe, farther and farther out into the open sea,
tossed like a feather by the crested waves and pelted by the driving
spray. The scene was fearful. The southern skies had grown black
with wrath, and long streamers sent from the clouds shot northward
as if to surround and cut off the retreat of the flying craft. All
crouched in the bottom of the boat, intent only on keeping it before
the wind and preventing it from filling. A frailer craft would have
been stove to pieces; but it was hewn from the trunk of a sound koa
tree, and gallantly rode out the storm.
But when the wind ceased and the skies cleared, late in the afternoon,
the canoe was far out at sea and beyond the sight of land. It was
turned and headed back; but as there was no wind to assist the paddles,
and the waters were still rough and restless, slow progress toward
land was made; and when the sun went down Kalamakua was undecided
which way to proceed, as he was not certain that the storm had not
carried them so far from the coast of Maui that some point on Molokai
or Oahu might be more speedily and safely reached than the place
from which they started. Their supply of poi had been lost during
the gale by the breaking of the vessel containing it; but they had
still left a small quantity of dried fish, raw potatoes and bananas,
and a calabash of water, and ate their evening meal as cheerfully
as if their supplies were exhaustless and the green hills of Waialua
smiled upon them in the distance. Such was the Hawaiian of the past;
such is the Hawaiian of to-day. His joys and griefs are centred in
the present, and he broods but little over the past, and borrows no
trouble from the future.
The stars came out, and a light wind began to steal down upon them
from the northwest. It was quite chilly, and felt like the breath
of the returning trade-winds, which start from the frozen shores of
northwestern America, and gradually grow warmer as they sweep down
through the tropic seas. These winds, continuing, with intervals
of cessation, eight or nine months in the year, are what give life,
beauty and an endurable climate to the Hawaiian group.
As the breeze freshened sails were raised, and then the course to be
taken remained to be determined. Kalamakua expressed his doubts to
Kelea, as if inviting a suggestion from her; but she was unable to
offer any advice, declaring that she had not noticed the course of
the wind that had driven them so far out upon the ocean.
"And I am equally in doubt," said the chief. "We may have been blown
farther toward the rising of the sun than the headlands of Hana. If
so, the course we are now sailing would take us to Hawaii, if not,
indeed, beyond, while in following the evening star we might even
pass Oahu. I therefore suggest a course between these two directions,
which will certainly bring us to land some time to-morrow."
"Then, since we are all in doubt," replied Kelea, "and the winds are
blowing landward, why not trust to the gods and follow them?"
"Your words are an inspiration," returned the chief, delighted
that she had suggested a course that would enable him to make Oahu
direct; for, as may be suspected, he was an accomplished navigator,
and was really in little or no doubt concerning the direction of the
several islands mentioned. "You have spoken wisely," he continued,
as if yielding entirely to her judgment; "we will follow the winds
that are now cooling the shores of Hamakuapoko."
Thus adroitly was Kelea made a consenting party to her own
abduction. Kalamakua took the helm, slightly changing the course of
the canoe, and his companions made themselves comfortable for the
evening. Their wet rolls of kapa had been dried during the afternoon,
and there was room enough to spare to arrange a couch for Kelea in
the bottom of the boat. But she was too much excited over the strange
events of the day to sleep, or even attempt to rest, and therefore
sat near Kalamakua in the stern of the canoe until past midnight,
watching the stars and listening to the story, with which he knew she
must sooner or later become acquainted, of his romantic expedition
in search of a wife for his cousin.
It is needless to say that Kalea was surprised and interested in the
relation; and when Kalamakua referred to the high rank of his cousin,
to his handsome person and large estates at Lihue, and begged her to
regard with favor the proposal of marriage which he then made to her
in behalf of Lo-Lale, she frankly replied that, if her royal brother
did not object, she would give the proffer consideration.
As Kalamakua had concluded not to take the hazard of securing the
consent of her brother, who doubtless had some other matrimonial
project in view for her, he construed her answer into a modestly
expressed willingness to become the wife of Lo-Lale, and the more
resolutely bent his course toward Oahu. He watched the Pleiades--the
great guide of the early Polynesian navigators--as they swept up into
the heavens, and, bearing still farther to the northward to escape
Molokai, announced that he would keep the steering-oar for the night,
and advised his companions, now that the breeze was steady and the
sea smoother, to betake themselves to rest. And Kelea at last curled
down upon her couch of kapa, and Kalamakua was left alone with his
thoughts to watch the wind and stars.
Although a long and steady run had been made during the night, no
land was visible the next morning. Kelea scanned the horizon uneasily,
and, without speaking, looked at Kalamakua for an explanation.
"Before the sun goes down we shall see land," said the chief.
"What land?" inquired Kelea.
"Oahu," was the reply, but the chief was not greeted with the look
of surprise expected.
"I am not disappointed," returned the princess, quite
indifferently. "You seem to have been sailing by the wandering stars
last night, for before daylight I looked up and saw by Kao that your
course was directly toward the place of sunset."
Five of the planets--Mercury, Mars, Venus, Jupiter and Saturn--were
known to the ancient Hawaiians, and designated as na hoku aea,
or wandering stars. The fixed stars were also grouped by them into
constellations, and Kao was their name for Antares.
With a look of genuine surprise Kalamakua replied:
"I did not know before that so correct a knowledge of navigation was
among the many accomplishments of the sister of Kawao."
"It required no great knowledge of the skies to discover last night
that we were not bearing southward, and needs still less now to
observe that we are sailing directly west," Kelea quietly remarked.
"I will not attempt to deceive one who seems to be able to instruct me
in journeying over the blue waters," said Kalamakua, politely. "Your
judgment is correct. We are sailing nearly westward, and the first
land sighted will probably be the headlands of Kaawa."
"You have acted treacherously," resumed the princess, after a pause,
as if suddenly struck with the propriety of protesting against the
abduction.
"Possibly," was the brief reply.
"Yes," she continued, after another pause, "you have acted
treacherously, and my brother will make war upon Oahu unless I am
immediately returned to Hamakuapoko."
"He will find work for his spears," was the irritating response.
"Is it a habit with the chiefs of Oahu to steal their wives?" inquired
Kelea, tauntingly.
"No," Kalamakua promptly replied; "but I would not eat from the same
calabash with the chief who would throw back into the face of the
generous winds the gift of the rarest flower that ever blossomed on
Hawaiian soil!"
The pretty compliment of the chief moved Kelea to silence; yet
he observed that there was a sparkle of pleasure in her eyes, and
that the novelty and romance of the situation were not altogether
distasteful to her.
Land was sighted late in the afternoon. It was Kaoio Point, on the
western side of Oahu. Rounding it, they landed at Mahana, where they
procured food and water and passed the night, and the next day had
an easy voyage to Waialua.
Landing, Kalamakua at once communicated with Piliwale, giving the
high rank of Kelea, as well as the strange circumstances under which
she had been brought to Waialua. Queen Paakanilea promptly despatched
attendants to the beach with appropriate apparel, and in due time the
distinguished visitor was received at the royal mansion in a manner
consistent with her rank.
The next day a message brought Lo-Lale from Lihue. He was dressed in
his richest trappings, and brought with him, as an offering to Kelea,
a rare necklace of shells and curiously-carved mother-of-pearl. He was
conducted to the princess by Kalamakua. They seemed to be mutually
pleased with each other. In fact, Lo-Lale was completely charmed
by the fair stranger, and in his enthusiasm offered to divide his
estates with his cousin as an evidence of his gratitude.
Kalamakua had himself become very much interested in Kelea, and
secretly hoped that his cousin might find something in her blood or
bearing to object to, in which case he felt that she might be induced
to regard his own suit with favor; but Lo-Lale declared her to be a
model of perfection, and wooed her with so much earnestness that she
finally consented to become his wife without waiting to hear from
her brother.
Her rank was quite equal to that of Lo-Lale, and the king was so
greatly pleased with the union that he added considerably to the
estates of his brother at Lihue, and the nuptials were celebrated with
games, feasting, dancing and the commencement of a new heiau near
Waialua, which was in time completed and dedicated to Lono, with a
large image of Laamaomao, the Hawaiian Æolus, at the inner entrance,
in poetic commemoration of the winds that drove Kelea away from the
coast of Maui.
At the conclusion of the festivities at Waialua, Kelea was borne
all the way to Lihue in a richly-mounted manele, or native palanquin
with four bearers. There were three hundred attendants in her train,
exclusive of thirty-six chiefs as a guard of honor, wearing feather
capes and helmets, and armed with javelins festooned with leis
of flowers and tinted feathers. It was a right royal procession,
and its entrance into Lihue was the beginning of another round of
festivities continuing for many days. Portions of the mele recited
by Lo-Lale in welcome of his wife to Lihue are still remembered and
repeated, and the occasion was a popular theme of song and comment
for a generation or more among the people of that district.
And thus Kelea, the beautiful sister of the moi of Maui, became the
wife of Lo-Lale, brother of Piliwale, king of Oahu.