I.

Nowhere on the island of Hawaii do the palms grow taller than in

the valleys of Waipio, and nowhere is the foliage greener, for every

month in the year they are refreshed with rains, and almost hourly

cooled in the shadows of passing clouds.

And sweet are the waters that sing through the valleys of Waipio. They

are fed by the tears of the trade-winds gathered in the shaded gorges

of the mountains where they find their source, and are speeded to

the ocean by hurrying and impatient cascades through black channels

fretted with bowlders and fringed with everlasting green.

Tradition says the waters of Waipio, after their first descent from

the hills, at one time crawled quite sluggishly to the sea; but a great

fish--larger than the island of Kaula--whose home was in the depths off

the coast of Hamakua, required more fresh water than was furnished by

the principal stream of the valley, and Kane, who was friendly with

the monster, increased the volume of the little river by creating

new springs at its sources, and accelerating the flow by raising the

bed in places and providing additional riffles and cascades. The

great fish no longer frequents that part of the coast of Hamakua,

but the cascades and riffles remain, with the broad finger-marks of

Kane upon the rocks hurled into the gorge to create them.

Although but thinly populated now, Waipio was for many generations in

the past a place of great political and social importance, and the

tabus of its great temple were the most sacred in all Hawaii. For

two hundred years or more it was the residence of the kings of that

island, and was the scene of royal pageants, priestly power and

knightly adventure, as well as of many sanguinary battles.

Waipio valley was first occupied as a royal residence by Kahaimoelea,

near the middle or close of the thirteenth century, and so continued

until after the death of Liloa, about the end of the fifteenth

century. For some reason not clearly stated the successor of

Liloa removed his court from Waipio to the opposite coast of the

island. Although the glory of the old capital departed with its

abandonment as the royal residence, the tabus of its great temple of

Paakalani continued to command supreme respect until as late as 1791,

when the heiau was destroyed, with all its sacred symbols and royal

associations, by the confederated forces of Maui and Kauai in their

war with Kamehameha I.

Although the story about to be related opens in the reign of Liloa,

which closed with his death in about 1485, it is pertinent to refer,

as briefly as the strange circumstances of the time will permit,

to the father of that sovereign--the great Kiha--concerning whose

career many curious traditions survive. The reign of Kiha was long

and peaceful. He was endowed not only with marked abilities as a

ruler, but with unusual physical strength and skill in the use of

arms. In addition to these natural advantages and accomplishments,

which gave him the respect and fear of his subjects, it was popularly

believed that he possessed supernatural resources, and could call to

his aid, in an emergency, weird forces in opposition to which mere

human endeavor would be weak and fruitless. Under the circumstances,

it is not strange that the chiefs of the neighboring islands deemed

it prudent to court his friendship, and that no great wars distracted

the kingdom during his reign.

Among the means at the command of Kiha for summoning to his assistance

the invisible forces subject to his call, the most potential was a

curious war-trumpet, the notes of which, when blown by Kiha, could be

heard a distance of ten miles, even from Waipio to Waimea. According

to the character of the blast, its voice was either a summons to

unseen powers, a rallying-cry to the people, or a dreadful challenge

to battle. This trumpet was a large sea-shell. It was a native of

foreign waters, and another like it could not be found in the Hawaiian

group. It was ornamented with rows of the teeth of distinguished

chiefs slain in battle, and could be so blown as to bring forth the

dying groans or battle cries of all of them in dreadful diapason.

Many legends are related of the manner in which Kiha became possessed

of this marvellous shell, but the most probable explanation is that it

was brought from some one of the Samoan or Society Islands three or

four centuries before, and had been retained in the reigning family

of Hawaii as a charm against certain evils. In the hands of the

crafty Kiha, however, it developed new powers and became an object

of awe in the royal household. Whatever may have been the beneficent

or diabolic virtues of this shell-clarion of Kiha--of the Kiha-pu,

as it is called--its existence, at least, was a reality, since it is

to-day one of the attractions of the Royal Hawaiian Museum of Honolulu,

brought down by the Kamehameha branch of the Kiha line. When vigorously

blown it still responds in sonorous voice, suggestive of the roar of

breakers around the jutting cliffs of Hamakua; but Lono no longer heeds

the mandate of its call, and brown-armed warriors come no more at its

bidding. Of the many strange stories still retained of the Kiha-pu,

one is here given, nearly in the language in which it has come down

in Hawaiian chant and song.

a story of the kiha-pu.

For a period of eight years, during the reign of Kiha, the Kiha-pu was

missing from the cabinet of royal charms and treasures. A new temple

was to be dedicated to Lono, not far from Waipio, and feathers of the

mamo, oo and other birds were required to weave into royal mantles

and redecorate Kaili and other gods of the king's household. But one

of the Kahu alii, constituting the five classes of guardians of the

royal person, was permitted to touch the Kiha-pu, nor did any other

know of its depository in the king's chamber. His name was Hiolo. He

was the son of a distinguished chief, and his office was that of

ipukuha, or spittoon-bearer--a position of peculiar responsibility,

which could be filled only by persons of noble blood and undoubted

attachment to their sovereign.

Desirous of hastily assembling and despatching to the neighboring

sea-shores and mountains a large party of feather-hunters, the

king, reclining in the shade of the palms in front of the royal

mansion, commanded Hiolo to bring to him the Kiha-pu, that he might

with a single blast summon his subjects throughout the valleys

of Waipio. Hiolo proceeded to the chamber of the king, and a few

minutes after returned pale and speechless, and threw himself at the

feet of Kiha, tearing his hair, lacerating his flesh with his nails,

and exhibiting other evidences of extreme agony and desperation.

Nothing ever startled a sovereign of the line of Pili. Under all

circumstances he acted with apparent deliberation. It was a natural

trait, strengthened by example and education.

Kiha calmly regarded his ipukuha for a moment, and then said:

"What spirit of evil possesses you? Rise, Hiolo, and speak!"

Hiolo rose to his feet, and, with a look of despair, exclaimed:

"It is no fault of mine; but tear out the tongue that tells you the

Kiha-pu is gone!"

Without replying, the king, with a terrible scowl upon his face,

rose and strode into his chamber. Parting the curtains of kapa

which secluded the back portion of the apartment, he stepped to an

elaborately carved and ornamented ipu, a container shaped and hollowed

from the trunk of a koa tree. He found the vessel open, and beside

it on the matted floor the several folds of kapa in which the Kiha-pu

had been wrapped; but instead of the sacred trumpet he discovered at

the bottom of the ipu a hideously-carved head and face of stone. The

shell had been adroitly abstracted, but the image that had been left

in its place saved the life of Hiolo, for by it Kiha discerned that the

theft and substitution had been achieved through supernatural agencies.

The loss of the Kiha-pu was a great grief to the king. But he did

not deem it prudent to admit that he no longer possessed the sacred

talisman, and therefore announced to Hiolo that the trumpet had been

found. Under the pretence that it had been carelessly misplaced by

Hiolo, Kiha declared that he would be its sole guardian thereafter.

There was great joy at the court when it was learned from the lips of

the king that the Kiha-pu had been found; yet it was observed that it

was not used to summon the feather-hunters, and after the sun went down

that evening many thought they faintly heard the music of its voice

coming in from the sea. And the king detected the familiar sound,

and, fearful that others might hear it as well, called together his

poets and hula dancers, and permitted their boisterous merriment far

into the night.

Early in the evening, while the palace grounds were a scene of

revelry, the king repaired alone to the great temple of Paakalani,

not far from the royal mansion, to consult with the high-priest and

put in motion the weird forces of the heiau for the recovery of the

Kiha-pu. He took with him the image left in the ipu, as a possible

means of assistance, and enjoined a solemn secrecy upon every kahuna

taken into the confidence of the high-priest.

The most noted kilos, seers and prophets of the temple were ordered to

apply their arts, and a kaula, inspired by incantation, was questioned

from within the anu of the inner sanctuary. The clouds were noted,

the flights of birds observed, and the dreams of drugged priests

interpreted, but nothing satisfactory was developed. Prayers were

offered to the gods, sacrifices were laid upon the altar, and the

vitals of freshly-slain pigs and fowls were carefully examined; but

the only information obtained was that the Kiha-pu had been stolen

by the chief of a band of demi-demons, or human beings controlled

by evil spirits; that it was no longer on the island of Hawaii, but

somewhere on the ocean beyond the eight Hawaiian seas; that it would

one day be recovered by a being without hands and wearing neither

mantle nor maro, but not until a cocoa-tree, planted in the next full

of the moon, should yield its first fruit, to be eaten by the king.

So far as concerned the theft of the Kiha-pu, the seers of the

temple had spoken correctly. For some months a dense forest in the

mountains back of Waipio, interspersed with marshes and patches of rank

undergrowth, had been inhabited by a small band of wild-looking men,

who boldly helped themselves to the pigs, fowls and fruits of the

neighboring farmers, and held noisy festivals almost nightly within

the gloomy recesses of their mountain retreat. They were said to be

only half-human, and capable of assuming other than their natural

forms. They had occasionally visited Waipio in parties of from two to

five, and entertained the people by telling fortunes and exhibiting

strange feats of posturing and legerdemain. In the guise of an old

woman the chief of the band had entered the royal mansion and stolen

the Kiha-pu, leaving in its place the hideous stone image mentioned;

then, as if the object of their stay near Waipio had been attained,

the entire band embarked the evening of the next day in stolen canoes

for Kauai. When safely off the coast of Hamakua the demon-chief had

defiantly wound a blast from the Kiha-pu, which the king had sought

to drown in the tumult of the hula.

Kiha departed gloomily from the temple. The loss of the sacred

trumpet afflicted him sorely. It had long been an heirloom in the

royal family of Hawaii, and its powers had been increased during his

reign. In obedience to the revelation of a kaula of great sanctity,

he had secretly deposited it in a cave near the summit of Mauna Kea

and retired to a valley below. Near the middle of the following night

a sound unearthly and terrible came echoing down the mountain-side,

followed by a hurricane which uprooted trees and tore great rocks

from their fastenings and hurled them into the gorges below. The

earth trembled as if a volcano was about to burst forth, and a ruddy

light hung about the summit. The sound ceased, the wind fell to a

whisper, and Kiha rose to his feet in the darkness and said: "It is

well. The great Lono has kept faith. He has blown the sacred trumpet,

and henceforth it will have the voice of a god!" The next morning he

repaired to the cave, and found the shell, not where he had left it,

but on the top of a huge rock with which the entrance had been for

ever closed. He raised the trumpet to his lips, and such sound as his

heart desired came forth at the bidding of his breath. He breathed a

simple call to his subjects, and it was heard the distance of a day's

journey. He gave a battle-blast, and his ears were stunned with the

mingled cries and groans of conflict. He ventured an appeal to the

unseen, and to a weird music around him rose gnomes, fairies and

grinning monsters. He returned elated to the palace, and more and

more, as its strange voices were heard, did the Kiha-pu become an

object of awe and wonder.

Although he took every possible precaution to keep from the people

all knowledge of the loss of the Kiha-pu, the king had little faith in

the assurances of the seers of the great temple that it would in time

be recovered. The conditions of its recovery were too vague, distant

and unsatisfactory to be entitled to serious consideration. However,

within a few days, with his own hands he planted a cocoa-tree near

the door of his chamber, and had a strong fence placed around it. He

visited the spot daily and saw that the ground was kept moist, and in

due time a healthy shoot came forth to reward his watchfulness. The

members of the royal household wondered at the interest taken by

the king in a simple cocoa sprout; but when it was intimated that he

was making a new experiment in planting, his care of the little tree

ceased to attract remark.

And now, while the king is anxiously watching the growth of his

cocoa-tree, and carefully guarding it from accident and blight, let

us follow the travels of the Kiha-pu. Instead of sailing for Kauai

through the island channels, the band of demi-demons took a northwest

course, intending to reach their destination without touching at any

intermediate point. The powers of the Kiha-pu were known to them,

and their chief amused himself and his graceless companions by testing

its virtues. When off the coast of Maui a blast of the trumpet brought

near Ukanipo, a terrible shark-god, sent by Kuula, the powerful but

exacting god of the fishermen of that island. On a jutting headland

could be seen a heiau dedicated to him and his wife, Hina. Hundreds of

sharks followed in the train of Ukanipo. They surrounded the canoes

and lashed the sea into foam. Separating, they formed a great circle

around the little fleet, and, swiftly approaching, drove a school of

flying-fish across the canoes, many striking the sails and falling into

the open boats and thus providing an opportune supply of favorite food.

Sighting Molokai, they thought of landing to replenish their

water-calabashes; but as the coast was rugged and the wind

unfavorable, a blast of the trumpet was blown to Kuluiau, the goddess

of rain. Instantly there was a commotion in the heavens. Black clouds

began to gather around them, and they had barely time to arrange

their kapa sheds and funnels before the rain poured down in torrents

and filled their calabashes to overflowing.

Believing the Kiha-pu would bring them anything they desired, and

returning thanks for nothing received, when off the northern coast

of Molokai, near Kaulapapa, they sounded a call to Laamaomao, god

of the winds, who since the days of Moikeha, more than two centuries

before, had occupied a cave on that island. Enraged at an appeal for

favoring winds from such a source, Laamaomao opened the mouth of the

ipu in which he kept the winds imprisoned, and turned it toward the

sea. A few minutes after a hot, fierce hurricane struck the canoes

of the miscreants, upsetting two of them and tearing their sails in

tatters. The chief had sufficient presence of mind to call through the

trumpet for Maikahulipu, the god who assists in righting upset canoes,

and the foundered boats were soon restored to their proper positions

and partially freed from water. But there was no abatement in the

violence of the wind. For more than a day and a night the canoes were

driven before it almost with the speed of a shark, until finally their

drenched and wearied occupants heard before them through the darkness

the sound of breakers against a rock-bound shore. The danger was

imminent, for paddles were useless. Raising the trumpet to his lips,

the chief called for Uhumakaikai, a powerful fish-god. No response

came, and the cliffs frowned before him as he hastily trumpeted for

Apukohai, another fish-god of Kauai, whose acts were usually cruel

and malicious. The spray of shattered waves against the rocks began

to wet the canoes, when they were seized by a force unseen, drawn

away from the cliffs, swept around a northward point, and flung by

the waves upon a sandy beach not far from Koloa.

Thus escaping with their lives, the party traveled overland and

joined a band of congenial spirits in the mountains back of Waimea,

where they remained until they were driven from the island for their

misdemeanors. Leaving Kauai, they crossed the channel, and, after

moving from place to place for some years, finally took up their

abode in a secluded spot near Waolani, on the island of Oahu.

In the possession of the Kiha-pu, Ika, the chief of the band, who

claimed it as his individual property, became cruel and dictatorial

to his companions. He esteemed himself little less than a god,

and demanded a full half of all the earnings and pilferings of his

associates. As the Kiha-pu was the cause of this exaction, one of

the friends of Ika, not daring to destroy or purloin the shell,

resolved to despoil it of its magic powers. To this end, with great

offerings of pigs and fowls, he consulted a priest of Lono at Waianae,

and was told that a tabu mark, placed somewhere on the shell with the

approval of Lono, would accomplish what was desired. As the priest

alone could place the mark upon the shell, he consented to visit

Waolani, and remain in the neighborhood until the trumpet could be

brought to him. Everything having been arranged, one evening Ika,

without great persuasion, was made drunk with awa, when the shell

was stolen and conveyed to the priest, who, with a point of flint,

hastily scratched near the outer rim a pea mark, or tabu cross,

meantime burning incense and chanting a low prayer to Lono.

"Can its powers be restored?" inquired the friend of Ika, as the

tabued trumpet was returned to him.

"Not while the tabu mark remains," replied the priest; "not until--but

no matter; its magic voices are silent now."

Before Ika awoke from his drunken stupor the Kiha-pu had been restored

to its usual place of deposit.

The next morning Ika partook of more awa, threw over his shoulders

a cape of red--a color sacred to the gods--suspended the Kiha-pu

from his neck with a cord of human hair, and went proudly forth to

receive the homage of his companions. But they refused to accord him

the honors to which he imagined he was entitled, and in his wrath he

raised the trumpet to his lips to blast them with a proclamation of his

superiority. A natural and monotonous sound issued from the shell. He

regarded it for a moment with amazement, then replaced it to his

lips and poured his breath into it with the full force of his lungs;

but its many voices were silent; its thunder-tones had been hushed.

He hastily re-entered his hut to escape the comments of his companions,

and discovered, after repeated trials, that the Kiha-pu had lost

its magic powers, and in his hands was nothing more than a simple

shell. Not doubting that it had been deprived of its virtues through

supernatural agencies, Ika visited a renowned kilo, or wizard, living

near Waialua, taking with him the Kiha-pu, which was enclosed in a

pouch of kapa, that it might not be observed. The age of the kilo was

a hundred and twenty-four years, and he was totally blind, subsisting

upon the bounty of those who sought his counsel. Finding his hut after

some difficulty, Ika presented him with a roll of kapa which he had

brought with him from Waolani, and a pig which he had stolen in the

valley below, and implored him to ascertain, if possible, the cause

of the disenchantment of the Kiha-pu. Taking the trumpet from Ika,

the kilo passed his wrinkled hands over it for some minutes, and

then retired with it behind a screen of mats, leaving his visitor

under the eye of an old crone, who had admitted him without a word

and seated herself beside the opening.

It was a long time before the kilo reappeared, and it was then to

inform Ika that little could be learned concerning the Kiha-pu. He had

employed every means known to his art, and finally appealed to Uli,

the supreme god of sorcery, when the reluctant answer came that the

Kiha-pu had been silenced by a power greater than his. "I dare not

inquire further," said the kilo, returning the trumpet.

"Will its voices ever return to it? Will your cowardice allow you to

answer that question?" inquired Ika, in a sneering tone.

"Yes," replied the kilo, with an effort restraining his wrath and

speaking calmly--"yes; its voices will be heard again in Hawaii,

among the hills that have sent back their echoes."

Ika would have questioned the kilo farther, but the old woman rose

and pointed toward the door, and with a look of disappointment he

replaced the shell in its pouch of kapa and sullenly left the hut.

Returning to Waolani, Ika abandoned his lofty pretensions and mingled

again with his companions on terms of comparative equality. This

restored him to their friendship, and, remembering the words of

the kilo, he prevailed upon a majority of them to accompany him to

Hawaii. Stealing boats at Waikiki, the party set sail for Hawaii, and

the fourth day landed at Kawaihae, in the district of Kohala. There

they abandoned their canoes, or exchanged them for food, and in

parties of four or five proceeded across the island by way of Waimea,

and soon after took possession of their old quarters in the mountains

back of Waipio, after an absence of eight years.

In all these years what had become of the cocoa-tree planted by Kiha,

with the coming of the first-fruits of which the magic trumpet was

to be restored by a being without hands and wearing neither mantle

nor maro? For seven years he had watched and nurtured its growth,

staying it against wind and storm, and guarding its every leaf and

stem. It was a vigorous and shapely tree, and its leaves were above

the touch of a battle-spear in the hands of the king. But no signs of

fruit appeared, and the heart of Kiha was troubled with the thought

that the tree might be barren, and that the gods had mocked him. The

seventh year of its growth had come and was going, when one morning

he descried among its branches three young cocoanuts, scarcely less

in size than his clenched fist. He thought it strange that he had

not seen them before, and then wondered that he had seen them at all,

for they were closely hidden among the leaves. But there they were,

to his great joy, and he watched them day by day until they attained

an age and size at which they might be eaten. He then sent for the

high-priest, and, pointing to the fruit, said:

"Behold the fruit of the tree planted by the hands of Kiha. At the

rising of the sun to-morrow I shall eat of it. Will the gods fulfil

their promise?"

"O chief!" replied the priest, "I do not see the means; but you

planted the tree; the fruit is fit for food; eat of it to-morrow,

if you will. The gods are all-powerful!"

At daylight the next morning the fruit was taken from the tree, and

the king drank the milk of the three cocoanuts, and ate of the meat

of all, first giving thanks to the gods. He then threw himself upon

his kapa-moe until the sun was well up in the heavens, when he rose

and went forth to meet his chief adviser, as was his daily custom, and

learn from his spies and other confidential officers what of importance

had transpired since the day before. The only information that seemed

to interest him was that a lawless band of strange men--apparently the

same who infested the neighborhood some years before--had reoccupied

the marshy forest in the mountains back of Waipio, and would doubtless

become a scourge to the planters in the upper part of the valley.

"It was through such a band that I was robbed of the Kiha-pu," thought

the king. "It may be that the very same have returned and brought back

with them the sacred trumpet. The ways of the gods are mysterious."

Communicating the thought to no one, Kiha despatched a discreet

messenger to reconnoitre the camp of the marauders, and in the

afternoon secretly visited the temple of Paakalani, where he learned

through the kaulas that the Kiha-pu was somewhere on the island

of Hawaii.

The sun was sinking in the west when the messenger returned, with the

information that the chief of the demon band was Ika, who, with many

of his followers, had been seen in and around Waipio many years before.

These tidings had scarcely reached the ears of the king when a

tumult was discovered at the main gate of the palace enclosure,

and a few minutes after an old man, with his arms bound behind his

back, and followed by a strange-looking dog, was being dragged by

a crowd of officers and others toward the royal mansion, in front

of which Kiha was sitting, surrounded by a number of distinguished

chiefs and titled retainers. The man was well advanced in years,

and was clad in a maro and kihei, or short mantle of kapa, while

from his neck was suspended an ivory charm rudely carved into the

form of a dog's foot. He was above the average height, and around his

stooped shoulders hung a tangled mass of grizzled hair. His beard was

unshorn, and from beneath his shaggy brows peered a pair of small

and malignant-looking eyes. He glowered savagely at his captors,

and resented anything that seemed like unnecessary force in urging

him along. The dog was a large, misshapen brute, with human-looking

ears and a bluish coat of bristling hair. It had a long, swinish tail,

and one of its eyes was white and the other green. The animal followed

closely and sullenly at its master's heels, uttering an occasional

low growl when too roughly jostled by the crowd.

When within a hundred paces of the mansion the officers halted

with their prisoner, and an attendant was despatched by the

king to ascertain the cause of the excitement. Learning that the

officers were desirous of bringing before him a man suspected of

pilfering from the royal estates, the king consented to listen to

the accusation in person, and ordered the prisoner to appear in his

presence. Approaching, the old man prostrated himself at the feet of

Kiha, and the dog, giving voice to a dismal howl, crouched upon the

earth, laid his nose between his paws, and bent his green eye upon

the king. Kiha regarded both for a moment with an amused expression;

but there was something demoniac in the appearance of the dog, and

after catching a glimpse of it he could scarcely remove his gaze from

the green eye that glared upon him.

Commanding one of the officers to speak for himself and the rest,

that the matter might be briefly determined, the king was informed

that the prisoner was a native of the island of Kauai, and some months

before had landed with his dog in the district of Kau; that he was

an awa thief and had trained his fiendish-looking dog to do his

pilfering; that the animal possessed the intelligence of a kahuna

and the instincts of a demon, and could almost steal the mantle

from a man's shoulders without detection; that the prisoner had been

driven for his thefts from Kau to Kona, and thence to Hamakua; that

he had been living for some months past at Kikaha, where his dog,

Puapua-lenalena, as he was called, had become noted for his thefts;

that awa had been missed by the luna of one of the king's estates in

the upper part of the valley; that the night before a watch had been

placed, and the demon dog had been detected in the act of leaving the

royal plantation with a quantity of awa in his mouth; that the animal

had been followed to the hut of his master, who was found asleep

under the influence of awa, which the dog had doubtless ground with

his teeth into an intoxicating drink, since on being aroused the man

denied that he had either stolen or chewed it; and, finally, after

some resistance, the prisoner had been brought to Waipio, followed

by his dog, and was now before the king for examination and sentence.

After the officer had concluded his account of the misdemeanors of

the prisoner, by permission of the king the old man rose to his feet,

and was about to speak in his own defence when Kiha, turning his gaze

with an effort from the green eye of the dog, abruptly inquired:

"What manner of animal is this, and how came he in your possession?"

"O king!" replied the prisoner, "the dog was given to me by my uncle,

a distinguished kaula of Kauai, and it is believed that he was cast

up from the sea."

"Enough!" exclaimed the king, with a gesture of impatience. "Take

them both to the temple of Paakalani," he continued, addressing a

chief with a yellow cape and helmet, "and there await my coming."

The prisoner and his green-eyed companion were removed to the temple,

and in the dusk of the evening Kiha proceeded thither alone. Entering

the royal retreat with which the heiau enclosure was provided, he sent

for the high-priest, and soon after for the prisoner and his dog. They

were conducted to the apartment, and the door was closed, a kukui

torch held at another opening throwing a glare of light into the room.

The king sat for a few breaths in silence, while the priest was

scanning the prisoner and his strange companion. Finally, pointing

to the dog, Kiha turned to the priest and said:

"A wonderful animal--a being without hands, and wearing neither mantle

nor maro!"

"True," returned the priest, recalling the promise of the gods;

"and should he be the messenger, his services must not be slighted."

"Listen," said the king, addressing the prisoner. "I have faith

that this animal can do me a service. In a marshy forest in the

mountains back of Waipio a band of conjuring outlaws have lately found

a retreat. A magic shell of great power, stolen from me many years

ago, is now in the possession of some one of them--probably of Ika,

their chief. Can you prompt this animal to recover the Kiha-pu?"

"Perhaps," replied the prisoner.

"Then do so," returned the king, "and I will not only give you the

life you have forfeited, but will see that you are provided henceforth

with all the awa you have an appetite to consume."

With these words of the king the dog rose to his feet, uttered a

growling sound which seemed to be half-human, and approached the door.

"No instructions are required," said the old man; "he understands,

and is ready to start upon his errand."

"Then send him forth at once," returned the king; "the night is dark

and will favor him."

The door was opened, and like a flash the dog sprang from the room,

leaped the closed gate of the outer wall, and in the darkness dashed

up the valley toward the mountains.

"I will await his return here," said the king, looking inquiringly

toward the prisoner.

"He will be back a little beyond the middle of the night," replied

the old man.

"With the Kiha-pu?" inquired the king.

"Either with or without it," was the answer.

Leaving the prisoner in the custody of the high-priest and his

attendants, Kiha walked out into the starlight. His face was feverish,

and the kiss of the trade-winds was cool. The heiau of Paakalani

was a puhonua, or sacred place of refuge--one of the two on the

island of Hawaii--and he wondered whether, under any circumstances,

he could properly demand the life of the prisoner were he to claim

the protection of the temple. Had he voluntarily sought refuge in

the puhonua, there would have been no doubt; but as he was forcibly

taken there by royal order, his right to exemption from seizure was

a question of doubt.

Dismissing the subject with the reflection that the life or death

of the prisoner was of little consequence, Kiha strolled toward the

inner temple and reverently bowed before an image of Lono near the

entrance. Remains of recent sacrifices still smelt rank upon the altar,

and scores of gods of almost every grade and function looked grimly

down upon him from the walls. Dim lights were seen in some of the

quarters of the priests constructed against the outer wall of the

enclosure, and a torch was burning at the main entrance.

As the evening wore on the silence of the heiau was broken only by

the hooting of the sacred owls from the walls of the inner temple,

and Kiha threw himself at the foot of a pepper-tree, and was soon

wafted out into the boundless sea of dreams.

After leaping the gate of the heiau the dog started up the valley

with the speed of the wind. As he swept past the thatched huts in his

course, those who caught sight of him for an instant were sure that

they beheld a demon, and the dogs that pursued speedily returned,

to crouch whiningly behind their masters.

Reaching the upper end of the valley, the dog followed an ascending

trail through a steep ravine coming down from the northward, and in

a short time, considering the distance traveled, stood snuffing the

air at the verge of the forest within which the outlaws had found

a temporary refuge. Distant lights were seen flickering through

occasional openings among the trees and tangled undergrowth, and at

intervals strange voices, as if of song and merriment, were heard.

For some time the dog remained motionless, and then stealthily

crept into the forest. What form he assumed, how he learned of

the hiding-place of the Kiha-pu, and through what means he escaped

discovery, are details which tradition has left to conjecture. It is

told only that he succeeded in finding in the unguarded hut of Ika,

seizing in his mouth, and escaping undiscovered from the forest with,

the sacred trumpet.

So adroitly had the theft been committed that it seemed that the

dog would surely escape without detection; but in plunging down the

steep ravine through which he had finally ascended to the forest,

he dropped the Kiha-pu, breaking from the rim a piece embracing the

small pea or tabu mark of silence placed upon it by the kaula of

Waianae. In an instant the liberated voices of the trumpet poured

forth in a blast which echoed through the hills and started the

night-birds to screaming.

The sound was heard by the reveling demi-demons of the forest, and,

ascertaining that the shell had been stolen, they poured down the

mountain-side in pursuit of the plunderer. Their speed was something

more than human, and the darkness did not seem to impede their

steps. From time to time the voice of the trumpet came back to them;

but it grew fainter and fainter in the distance, until they finally

abandoned the chase as hopeless, Ika himself suggesting that the

Kiha-pu, with its voices in some manner restored to it, had taken

wings and escaped.

The king slept under the pepper-tree until past the middle of the

night, when the hooting of an owl almost at his ear awoke him, and he

rose and re-entered the royal retreat, where he found the high-priest

with a number of his attendants, and the prisoner intently listening

at the half-open door.

Kiha was about to inquire the time of the night--for he had neglected

to look at the stars before entering--when a noise was heard at the

outer gate. The prisoner stepped forward and threw back the door,

and the next moment the dog sprang into the room, laid the Kiha-pu

at the feet of the king, and then dropped dead beside it.

The overjoyed king raised and placed the trumpet to his lips, and

with a swelling heart roused the people of Waipio with a blast such as

they had not heard for more than eight years. Liberating the prisoner,

who was grief-stricken at the death of his dog, Kiha ordered that he

henceforth be fed from the royal table.

Winding another blast upon the trumpet, the king returned to the

palace, around which were congregated hundreds of excited people. Among

them were chiefs in yellow capes and helmets, and warriors armed with

spear and battle-axe. Summoning his alii-koa, or principal military

leader, a brief council was held, followed by the sending forth of

the plumed aids of the king, and the speedy concentration within the

palace grounds of a picked body of three or four hundred warriors

armed with short javelins and knives for close encounter.

The little army moved rapidly but noiselessly up the valley, and at

early daylight surrounded and attacked the camp of the demon band. A

desperate hand-to-hand conflict ensued; but the miscreants were

overpowered, and all slain with the exception of Ika and two others,

who were reserved alive for the altar.

On the evening following, in the midst of great rejoicing, the Kiha-pu

was rededicated to Lono, and Ika and his companions were slain

without the walls and sacrificed, with a host of other offerings,

in the temple of Paakalani.