It is now in order to return to Hamakuapoko, to note what transpired
there on the sudden disappearance of Kelea before the strong breath
of the mumuku. The king was profoundly grieved, and summoned the
attendants of his sister to learn the particulars of the misfortune. To
all of them it was manifest that the canoe had been blown out to sea
in spite of the efforts of its occupants, and, as the gale continued
to increase in violence during the day, it was feared that the entire
party had perished. As to the strangers, no one seemed to know anything
of them or of the island from which they came. They did not seem to
belong to the makaainana, or common people, and one of them, it was
believed from his bearing, was a high chief.
This was all the information the wailing attendants were able to
give. One man, who had noticed the canoe as it came and went through
the surf, thought it was from Hawaii, while another was equally certain
that it was from Oahu; but as the general structure of canoes on the
several islands of the group differed but little, their descriptions
of the craft furnished no real clue to the mystery.
With the cessation of the storm, late in the afternoon, came a hope
to Kawao that the missing canoe had safely ridden out the gale,
and would seek the nearest land favored by the changing winds. He
therefore summoned the high-priest, and instructed him to put his
diviners and magicians to the task of discovering what had become
of the princess Kelea. Pigs and fowls were slain, prayers were
said in the heiau, and late in the evening information came through
supernatural agencies that Kelea was still living. But this was not
satisfactory to the king. He demanded something more specific, and a
kaula of great sanctity was prepared and placed in the anu, a wicker
enclosure within the inner court, and in due time, in answer to the
questions of the high-priest, announced that the canoe containing
the princess was sailing in safety toward Oahu.
The words of the kaula were repeated to the king, and the next
day he despatched a well-manned canoe, in charge of one of his
plumed halumanus, or military aids, to find and bring back the lost
Kelea. Owing to unfavorable winds or bad management the canoe did not
reach Makapuu Point, Oahu, until the fourth day. Proceeding along the
northeastern coast of the island, and landing wherever practicable
to make inquiries, the easy-going messenger did not arrive at Waialua
until two days after the departure of Kelea for Lihue.
Learning that the princess had become the wife of Lo-Lale, the
disappointed halumanu did not deem it necessary to communicate with
her, but briefly paid his respects to the king, to whom he made known
the nature of his errand to Oahu, and his resolution to return at once
to Maui and acquaint his royal master with the result of his mission.
Appreciating that, in his anxiety to see his brother properly mated,
he had countenanced a proceeding sufficiently discourteous to the
moi of Maui to warrant a hostile response, Piliwale treated the
halumanu with marked kindness and consideration, and insisted upon
sending an escort with him back to Maui, including the bearer of a
friendly explanatory message from himself to Kawao. For this delicate
service no one could be found so competent as the courtly Kalamakua,
who was well versed in the genealogy of the Kalona family, and would
be able to satisfactorily, if not quite truthfully, explain why it
was that the canoe containing the princess, when driven out to sea,
was headed for Oahu instead of Maui when the storm abated.
Kalamakua was accordingly despatched on the mission. Being a much
better sailor than the halumanu, he found no difficulty either in
parting company with him off the coast of eastern Maui or in reaching
Hamakuapoko three or four hours in advance of the party he was
courteously escorting thither. This enabled the wily Oahuan to secure
an audience with the king, and deliver his message and explanation in
full, before the halumanu could land and give his version of the story.
Kalamakua's explanation of the impossibility, after the storm, of
reaching in safety any land other than Oahu or Molokai, seemed to
be satisfactory; and when he dwelt upon the well-known high rank of
Lo-Lale, as recognized by the aha-alii, and referred to his manly
bearing, his amiable disposition and the amplitude of his estates,
Kawao answered sadly:
"Then so let it be. It is perhaps the will of the gods. I would have
had it otherwise; but be to Kelea and her husband, and to my royal
brother the king of Oahu, my messenger of peace."
Thanking the moi for his kindly words, Kalamakua took his leave. As
he was about to re-embark in the afternoon for Oahu, the discomfited
halumanu, having but just then landed, passed him on the beach. Knowing
that he had been outwitted, in his wrath he reached for the handle
of his knife. But he did not draw it. Kalamakua stopped and promptly
answered the challenge; but the halumanu passed on, and with a smile
he stepped into his canoe, and a few minutes later was on his way to
Oahu with Kawao's welcome messages of peace.
As the years came and went in their quiet home at Lihue, Lo-Lale lost
none of his affection for Kelea. No wars distracted the group. Liloa,
the son of Kiha and father of Umi, had become the peaceful sovereign
of Hawaii; Kahakuma, the ancestor of some of the most distinguished
families of the islands, held gentle and intelligent sway in Kauai;
Kawao still ruled in Maui, and Piliwale in Oahu.
To gratify his wife, Lo-Lale surrounded her with every comfort. The
choicest fruits of the island were at her command, and every day
fresh fish and other delicacies of the sea were brought to her from
the neighboring coasts. In short, everything not tabu to the sex
was provided without stint. Summer-houses were constructed for her
in the cool recesses of the Waianae Mountains, and a manele, with
relays of stout bearers, was always at her service for the briefest
journeys. The people of the district were proud of her rank and
beauty, and at seasons of hookupu, or gift-making, she was fairly
deluged with rare and valuable offerings.
Yet, with all this affluence of comfort and affection, Kelea became
more and more restless and unhappy. Nor did the presence of her
children, of whom she had three, seem to render her more contented. She
longed for the sea; for the bounding surf which had been the sport
of her girlhood; for the white-maned steeds of ocean, which she had
so often mounted and fearlessly ridden to the shore; for the thunder
of the breakers against the cliffs; for the murmur of the reef-bound
wavelets timidly crawling up the beach to kiss and cool her feet; and
the more she yearned for her old-time pleasures, the greater became
her dissatisfaction with the tamer life and surroundings of Lihue.
Knowing her love for the sea, Lo-Lale made occasional excursions
with her to the coast, frequently remaining there for days
together. Sometimes they visited the east and sometimes the south
side of the island; but the place which seemed to please her above
all others was Ewa, where Kalamakua made his home. He, too, loved the
sea, and during her visits there afforded her every opportunity to
indulge her passion for it. Together they had charming sails around
the Puuloa (Pearl River) lagoon, and gallant rides over the surf at the
entrance. There, and there only, did she seem to recover her spirits;
there only did she seem to be happy.
This did not escape the notice of Lo-Lale, and a great grief filled
his heart as he sometimes thought, in noting her brightened look in
the presence of Kalamakua, that it was less the charms of the surf
than of his cousin's handsome face that made the waters of Ewa so
attractive to Kelea.
Life at Lihue finally became so irksome to her, and even the continued
kindness of Lo-Lale so unwelcome, that she announced her determination
to leave the home of her husband for ever. This resolution was
not altogether unexpected by Lo-Lale, for he had not been blind
to her growing restlessness and was prepared for the worst; and as
the prerogatives of her high rank gave her the undoubted privilege
of separation if she desired it, he reluctantly consented to the
divorcement. When asked where it was her purpose to go, she answered:
"Probably to Maui, to rejoin my brother."
"More probably not beyond Ewa," was Lo-Lale's significant reply. "But,
no matter where you may go," he continued, with dignity, "take your
departure from Lihue in a manner consistent with your rank. You were
received here as became the sister of a king and the wife of the son
of Kalona-iki. So would I have you depart. I reproach you with nothing,
myself with nothing; therefore let us part in peace."
"We part in peace," was Kelea's only answer, and the next morning
she quietly took her departure with four or five attendants. A chant
expressive of Lo-Lale's grief at the separation was long after recited,
but these lines are all of it that have been preserved:
"Farewell, my partner on the lowland plains,
On the waters of Pohakeo,
Above Kanehoa,
On the dark mountain spur of Mauna-una!
O Lihue, she is gone!
Sniff the sweet scent of the grass,
The sweet scent of the wild vines
That are twisted by Waikoloa,
By the winds of Waiopua,
My flower!
As if a mote were in my eye,
The pupil of my eye is troubled;
Dimness covers my eyes. Woe is me!"
Leaving Lihue, Kelea descended to Ewa, and, skirting the head of the
lagoon by way of Halawa, on the afternoon of the second day arrived at
the entrance, immediately opposite Puualoa. There she found a large
number of nobles and retainers of Kalamakua, the high chief of the
district, amusing themselves in the surf. As she had not seen the
salt water for some months, Kelea could not resist the temptation
to indulge in her old pastime, and, borrowing a surf-board from one
of the bathers, plunged into the sea, and soon joined the party of
surf-riders beyond the breakers.
Soon a huge roller made its appearance, and all mounted it and started
for the shore. The race was exciting, for the most expert swimmers in
the district were among the contestants; but in grace, daring and skill
Kelea very plainly excelled them all, and was loudly cheered as she
touched the shore. Kalamakua was reposing in the shade, not far away,
and, hearing the tumult of voices, inquired the cause. He was told that
a beautiful woman from Lihue had beaten all the chiefs at surf-riding,
and the people could not restrain their enthusiasm. Satisfied that
there was but one Lihue woman who could perform such a feat, and that
she must be Kelea, the wife of his cousin Lo-Lale, he proceeded to the
beach just as a second trial had resulted in a triumph to the fair
contestant quite as emphatic as the first. As she touched the shore
Kalamakua threw his kihei (mantle) over her shoulders and respectfully
greeted her. Kelea then informed him that she had formally separated
from her husband and was about to embark for Maui.
"If that is the case," said Kalamakua, gently taking her by the arm,
as if to restrain her, "you will go no farther than Ewa. When I went
in search of a wife for Lo-Lale, I promised that if he objected to
the woman I brought or recommended, or she to him, I would take her
myself, if she so willed. You have objected to him. Is Kalamakua
better to your liking?"
"I will remain at Ewa," was the satisfactory answer.
"Yes, and you should have gone there instead of to Lihue, when you
landed at Waialua years ago," continued Kalamakua, earnestly.
"My thought is the same," was Kelea's frank avowal; and she beckoned
to her attendants, and told Kalamakua that she was ready to follow him.
Did he expect her at the beach that morning? Tradition offers no direct
answer to the question, but significantly mentions that Kalamakua
spent one or two days at Lihue not long before, that houses were in
readiness for her at Ewa, and that she was borne thither on a manele,
escorted by the principal chiefs and nobles of the district.
Learning, not long after, that Kelea had become the wife of Kalamakua,
the gentle-hearted Lo-Lale sent to her a present of fruits and a
message of peace and forgiveness; but it was his request that they
might never meet again, and he spent the remainder of his days in
Lihue, caring for the welfare of his people and dreaming in the
shadows of the hills of Kaala.
But little more need here be told. Kelea and Kalamakua lived happily
together, and were blessed with a daughter, Laielohelohe, who inherited
her mother's beauty, and became the wife of her cousin Piilani, son
and successor of Kawao, moi of Maui; but it was not until after the
betrothal of the cousins, which was agreed to in their childhood,
that Kawao fully forgave his volatile sister for marrying a prince
of Oahu without his consent.
Piikea, one of the daughters of Piilani and Laielohelohe, became
in after-time the wife of the great Umi, of Hawaii, and through her
great-grandson, I, the ancestress of Kalakaua, the present sovereign
of the group. Lono-a-Pii, another of their children, succeeded his
father as moi of Maui.
As a further example of the manner in which the blood of the reigning
families of the several islands of the group was commingled in the
early periods of their history, it may be mentioned that Kaholi,
a son of Lo-Lale and Kelea, was united in marriage to Kohipa, one
of the two daughters of Piliwale; while the other, Kukaniloko, who
followed her father as sovereign of Oahu, became the wife of Luaia,
grandson of Kakaalaneo, the joint ruler of Maui during the reign of
the unfortunate Kakae.