It was not destined that Umi should remain long unknown among the
hills of Hilo. His sudden disappearance and continued absence from the
court had excited apprehensions of foul dealing, and Hakau himself,
who had thus far failed in his efforts to discover the retreat of
Umi, began to fear that he was somewhere secretly planning a deep
scheme of retaliation. But Umi had as yet marked out for himself no
definite plan of action. He smarted under the persecutions of Hakau,
and did not doubt that, sooner or later, he would triumph over them
and be restored to the rights and privileges bequeathed to him by his
royal father; but exactly when and how all this was to be accomplished
were problems which he expected the future to assist him in solving.
And he was not disappointed. The future for which he had patiently
waited was near at hand, and he was about to become the central
figure of a struggle which would test to their utmost his courage
and ability. One day, while strolling alone in the hills back of
Waipunalei, there suddenly appeared before him a man of stupendous
proportions. Umi regarded the object for a moment with amazement, and
was about to speak when the monster dropped on his knees before him. In
that position he was a head and shoulders above Umi, and the spear
in his hand was of the measure in length of ten full steps. Although
more than eleven feet in height, he was well proportioned, and the
expression of his face was intelligent and gentle. He was young in
years, yet his hair fell to his shoulders and was streaked with gray.
"Who are you, and why do you kneel to me?" said Umi, looking up into
the face of the giant with a feeling of awe. "If I had your limbs I
would kneel alone to the gods."
"I am Maukaleoleo, of Kona, and the most unfortunate of men," replied
the monster in a ponderous but not unpleasant tone. "My mother was
Nuuheli; but she is now dead, and, having grown to the height of the
trees, I live in the mountains among them, for men seem to fear and
hate me, and women and children scream with fright at my approach."
"And who was your father?" inquired Umi, kindly.
"As he died when I was young," returned the giant, "and that was more
than thirty years ago, I know not, except that his name was Mano,
and that he claimed lineage from Kahaukapu, the grandfather of the
great Liloa, whose unworthy son now rules in Hawaii."
"Hist!" exclaimed Umi, reaching up and placing his hand gently upon
the shoulder of the monster. "There is death in such words, even to a
man of Maukaleoleo's girth. The trees are listeners as well as myself."
"The trees will say nothing," was the reply, "for they often
hear such words of Hakau. But why should I fear death? I was not
born to be slain for speaking the truth. Listen, and then tell me
why Maukaleoleo should fear anything that is human. When a boy a
stranger met me one day on the cliffs overlooking the sea, where I
was searching for the feathers of the oo. He was mighty in stature,
and in fear I fell upon the ground and hid my face. He called me by
name, and I looked up and saw that he held in his hand a small fish
of the color of the skies at sunset. Handing the fish to me, he said:
'Eat this, and to see your face all men will look toward the stars.' I
knew he was a god--Kanaloa, perhaps--and I feared to refuse. So I took
the fish and ate it, and the stranger stepped over the cliffs with a
smile on his face and disappeared. The fish was pleasant to the taste,
and I could have eaten more. A strange sense of increasing strength
seized me, and on my way home I lifted large rocks and felt that I
could uproot trees. I said nothing to my mother of what had happened,
but the next morning she looked at me with fright and wonder, for
during the night I had grown an arm's length in height. Except upon my
hands and knees I could no longer enter the door of the house where I
was born, and everything with which I was familiar had a dwarfed and
unnatural look. I was ashamed to meet my old associates, and only
ventured from the house when it was too dark for me to be plainly
seen. Larger and larger I grew, until at the age of fifteen I reached
my present proportions, when my mother died, and I made my home in
the mountains, where I have since spent the most of my time. What
should one so treated by the gods fear from man?" And Maukaleoleo
rose to his feet, towering like a cocoa-tree above his companion.
"A strange story, indeed! But if the trees, which are speechless,
do not betray you, why should not I?" said Umi, curious to learn
something farther of the strange being in whose veins possibly coursed
the blood of kings.
"Because," answered the giant, slowly, "you are Umi, the son of Liloa,
and Hakau is your enemy!"
Umi listened to these words in amazement, and then frankly said:
"You are right. I am Umi, the son of Liloa, and Hakau is not my
friend. And now that you know so much, you cannot but also know that
it is prudent for me to remain at present unknown. Let me ask in
return that you will not betray me."
"I know all, and you may fear nothing," said Maukaleoleo. "Before the
moon grows large again I shall be with you, spear in hand, on your way
to Waipio. Meantime you may lose sight of me, but I shall be near you
when my arm is needed. You have powerful friends. Be guided by them,
and all will be well."
Umi held up his hand, and Maukaleoleo folded it in his mighty palm
as he dropped upon his knees and exclaimed:
"Umi, son of Liloa! here in the hills, among the listening leaves,
let Maukaleoleo be the first to hail you moi of Hawaii!"
Before Umi could rebuke the untimely utterance Maukaleoleo rose to
his feet and with a low bow disappeared among the trees.
With whatever feeling of fear the makaainana, or laboring classes, of
Waipunalei may have regarded Maukaleoleo, as he occasionally appeared
among them like a moving tower, he was not without friends. He was
well known to the priests and kaulas of the district, who believed that
his huge proportions were due to the special act of some god, and was
always a welcome visitor at the home of Kaoleioku, a high-priest of
great influence both in Hilo and Hamakua. It is therefore probable
that this meeting with Umi was not entirely accidental, for the day
following Kaoleioku despatched a messenger to Umi, who was found not
without some difficulty, inviting him to a conference in a secluded
spot near the head of a neighboring valley.
The object of the meeting was not stated, and Umi's first thought
was that the emissaries of his brother were seeking to lure him to
his death; but no danger ever appalled him, and, seizing his javelin
and thrusting a pahoa into his girdle, he followed the messenger.
A brisk walk of an hour brought them to a small grass hut partially
hidden among the trees and undergrowth of an almost dry ravine abruptly
jutting into the valley. At that point the valley was too narrow to
admit of cultivation, although a broken stone wall across the mouth
of the ravine showed that at one time three or four uneven acres
behind it had been tilled. The grass grew rank within the enclosure,
and, in addition to several varieties of forest trees that had taken
root since the ground had last been disturbed, a half-dozen or more
cocoa-trees lifted their heads above the surrounding foliage, and
the broad leaves of as many banana-stalks swayed lazily in the wind.
It was a lonesome-looking spot, and no sign of life in or around the
hut was visible as the messenger stopped at a gap in the crumbling
wall and awaited the approach of Umi. The chirp of the crickets in the
grass seemed to be a note of warning, and the whistle of a solitary
bird hidden among the leaves sounded like a scream to Umi in that
deserted and otherwise silent nook; but he grasped his ihe firmly
and beckoned the messenger to proceed. As he stepped over the broken
wall he caught a glimpse of the ponderous form of Maukaleoleo through
the branches of a sandal-tree on the side of the hill overlooking the
hut. Under the eye of that mighty and friendly sentinel Umi dismissed
all thought of treachery or danger.
Reaching the door of the hut, he was met by the high-priest Kaoleioku,
who promptly extended his hand and invited him to enter, while the
messenger withdrew from the enclosure and took a position where he
commanded a view of the valley above and below the mouth of the ravine.
There was no furniture in the hut beyond two or three rickety shelves,
and on one side a raised platform of earth, which, with a kapa
covering, might have been used either as a bed or seat. On entering
the priest requested Umi to be seated, and then bowed low and said:
"I cannot doubt that I am standing before Umi, son of Liloa, and
guardian of our sacred temples and our fathers' gods." To these words
the priest silently awaited an answer.
Umi did not reply at once; but after giving the face of the priest
a searching glance, and recalling his meeting with Maukaleoleo the
day before, and the vision through the branches of the sandal-tree,
he frankly answered:
"I cannot deny it."
"No; you cannot, indeed!" returned the priest, fervently; "for so have
the clouds told me, and so has it been whispered in my dreams. Word
has come to me from Waipio that Hakau knows you are in Waipunalei,
and his emissaries are already here with orders to assassinate you."
"Then further disguise would be useless, further delay
cowardly!" exclaimed Umi, rising from his seat and grasping his
ihe. "His cruelty forces me at last to strike! The time for action
has come, and, spear in hand, as befits a son of Liloa, I will face
the royal murderer in Waipio, and the black kapa shall be his or mine!"
"Spoken like a king and a son of a king!" returned the priest with
enthusiasm, grasping Umi by the hand. "But you will not go alone. Come
to me with your friends to-morrow--if possible to-night. Under my
roof you will be safe, and there we will gather the spears that will
make your journey to Waipio a triumphal march."
"Thanks are the only payment I can now make to your friendship,"
said Umi, in turn pressing the hand of the priest. "You may expect
me and a few of my friends before another rising of the sun."
With a few hasty words of explanation Umi left the hut with his heart
on fire, and the priest watched him with a smile until he passed the
broken wall. There he was rejoined by the messenger, who silently
preceded him down the valley.
As he started to return Umi looked toward the sandal-tree above the
hut. Maukaleoleo was no longer there, but he frequently discerned
a mighty form moving down the valley along the wooded hillside,
and knew that his great friend was not far away.
The northeastern coast of the island of Hawaii presents an almost
continuous succession of valleys, with intervening uplands rising
gently for a few miles, and then more abruptly toward the snows of
Mauna Kea and the clouds. The rains are abundant on that side of
the island, and the fertile plateau, boldly fronting the sea with a
line of cliffs from fifty to a hundred feet in height, is scored at
intervals of one or two miles with deep and almost impassable gulches,
whose waters reach the ocean either through rocky channels worn to
the level of the waves, or in cascades leaping from the cliffs and
streaking the coast from Hilo to Waipio with lines which seem to be
of molten silver from the great crucible of Kilauea.
In the time of Liloa, and later, this plateau was thickly populated,
and, requiring no irrigation, was cultivated from the sea upward to the
line of frost. A few kalo patches are still seen, and bananas grow,
as of old, in secluded spots and along the banks of the ravines;
but the broad acres are green with cane, and the whistle of the
sugar-mill is heard above the roar of the surf that beats against
the rock-bound front of Hamakua.
In the first of these valleys south of Waipunalei was the estate of
the high-priest Kaoleioku, which was thickly dotted with the huts
of his tenants, and embraced some of the finest banana, cocoa and
breadfruit groves in the district. For the accommodation of himself
and family were two large mansions, constructed of heavy timbers and
surrounded by a substantial stone wall. The priest was learned and
hospitable, and his influence was second in the district only to that
of the alii-okane.
Anticipating the arrival of Umi and his friends during the night, the
priest had placed a watchman at the gate on retiring, with instructions
to wake him should any one unknown to the sentinel apply for admission
before morning. But Kaoleioku could not sleep, for his mind was filled
with the shadows of coming events. He had discovered a son of Liloa,
the rightful guardian of the temples and his gods, secreted among the
makaainani to escape the persecutions of his tyrannical and heartless
brother; and as a reconciliation between them did not seem to be
possible, he had resolved to urge Umi into open revolt at once, and
to assist him to the full extent of his power in organizing a force
to contest with Hakau the right to the sovereignty of Hawaii. This he
was moved to do, not more because Hakau was a tyrant, than that he had
sought to degrade the priesthood, of which Umi was the nominal head,
and in the dedication of a temple in Waimea had sacrilegiously usurped
the powers and privileges of the high-priest. Should the revolt prove
unsuccessful, his life, he well knew, would be one of the forfeits
of the failure; but the priest was a courageous man, and did not
hesitate to accept the hazard of the perilous undertaking. Although
reared in the priesthood, he could wield a spear with the best,
and when in arms his fifty years sat lightly upon him.
With his mind filled with the details of the dangerous labors before
him, the priest tossed restlessly upon his couch of kapa until past
midnight, when he rose and strolled out among the palms. Wearied
with walking, he stretched himself upon the grass, and, fanned by the
trade-winds and soothed by the stars which seemed to smile upon him
through the branches of the trees, he followed his troubled thoughts
into the land of dreams; and there a voice said to him thrice:
"Let the spears of Hakau be sent beyond the call of the Kiha-pu,
and the victory of Umi will be bloodless!"
A voice beside the sleeper awoke him, and he was informed by the
watchman that a considerable number of strangers were at the gate
and desired admission. The priest rose to his feet, and, with the
mysterious words of the dream still ringing in his ears, proceeded to
the gate, where the tall form of Umi loomed up in the darkness. Giving
him his hand with a warm word of welcome, the priest was about to
conduct him within when he was startled at the sudden appearance at
the gate of a party of armed and resolute-looking men--how many he
was unable to distinguish.
The priest was about to speak when Umi laid his hand upon his shoulder
and said in a low voice: "All trusty friends."
"Then all are welcome," replied the priest, and, giving an order to
the watchman, he stepped aside with Umi, when two hundred warriors,
appareled for battle, silently filed in double rank through the
opening, following Omaukamau and Piimaiwaa to quarters evidently
prepared for a much greater number.
"Truly, a good beginning!" exclaimed the priest, with enthusiasm,
as the last of the little army passed the gate.
"A few that my good friends have been sounding since yesterday,"
said Umi, modestly. "They do not know me yet as Umi, but are inspired
with a hatred for Hakau. The number could have been greatly increased,
but I feared your ability to accommodate more without warning."
"It was thoughtful; but ten times their number can be secreted within
these walls. But come," continued the priest, taking the arm of Umi
and proceeding toward the larger mansion; "there is red in the east,
and you must have rest and sleep. When you awake I will give you a
dream to interpret. It relates to the business before us."
"Tell me of the dream before I sleep, good Kaoleioku," urged Umi,
pleasantly, "and perhaps some god may whisper an answer to it in
my slumbers."
"Well thought," replied the priest; and he related his dream to Umi
as he conducted him to a room in the large hale and pointed to a pile
of soft kapa on a low platform.
The priest bowed and retired, and Umi, who had rested but little for
three days, threw himself upon the kapa-moe and slept soundly until
the sun was high in the heavens.
The young chief awoke greatly refreshed, and, after his morning bath,
sought the presence of the priest, who since daylight had been busily
engaged in despatching messengers to his friends in various parts of
the district, and even to Puna and Hamakua, and arranging for supplies
of arms, provisions and other warlike stores. Against the walls of the
enclosure a number of long sheds had been hastily constructed, under
which, screened from observation from without, men were repointing
spears and ihes, and repairing slings, daggers and other weapons. In
fact, the enclosure began to assume the appearance of a military camp
rather than the peaceful habitation of a priest; and as Umi looked
around him he appreciated for the first time that a step had been
taken which could not be retraced, and that the lives of himself
and many of his friends could be saved alone by destroying Hakau,
in whose heart lived no feeling of mercy. But, as the conflict had
been forced upon him, he accepted it without fear or regret, and his
courage would not permit him to doubt the result.
Umi greeted and thanked the priest for the warlike preparations visible
on all sides, and over their morning meal together were discussed the
resources and details of the coming struggle. It was not believed
that a sufficient force could be rallied in the district to make
head against the battalions of the king in open fight, for news of
the ripening rebellion was spreading in the neighborhood and would
soon reach Waipio.
"What we lack in spears must be made up in cunning," said the priest,
confidently. "The gods are with us, and the means of victory will be
pointed out."
"Perhaps," replied Umi, thoughtfully; "but sometimes the direction
is vague and we are apt to mistake it. Olopana failed to interpret
correctly the will of Kane, as sent to him through his high-priest,
and was driven by the floods from Waipio, and compelled to return to
Kahiki, the land of his fathers."
"True," returned the priest, not a little astonished at Umi's knowledge
of the ancient chiefs of Hawaii, "and we must not fall into the same
error. The gods, perhaps, have already spoken. 'Let the spears of
Hakau be sent beyond the call of the Kiha-pu,' are the words that
have come to me, but I can find no interpretation of them. We must
make sacrifice at once, and consult the kaulas."
"That would be well," said Umi; "yet it may be that a hint of their
meaning, if nothing more, has been sent to me. I slept with the words
this morning, you will remember, and now I recall that a whisper
advised that we should take to our counsel Nunu and Kakohe, of Waipio."
"You have made the way clear!" exclaimed the priest, earnestly. "I know
the men well. They are priests of influence and large learning. They
were the advisers of Liloa, and are now the enemies of Hakau."
"The same," said Umi; "I have met them both."
"Then will we despatch a discreet messenger for them at once,"
returned the priest, rising abruptly. "Every moment is precious,
and their counsel may be the voice of the gods."
And now, while the messenger is on his way to Waipio, it may be in
place to make some further mention of the two priests in search of whom
he was sent, as they contributed in no small measure to Umi's final
success, and were thereafter rated among his confidential counsellors.
Nunu and Kakohe were chiefs of distinction and belonged to the
priesthood. They were both learned in the lore of the gods and the
traditions of the people, and were so highly esteemed by Liloa that
he frequently invited them to the royal mansion, and late in life
spent one or more evenings with them in each month, when he listened
to recitals of the traditions of his fathers, and mistier lines of
demi-gods and heroes stretching backward in unbroken thread to the
morning of creation. They were among the few who could recite the
sacred genealogical mele of Kumuhonua, the Hawaiian Adam, and he loved
to listen to the naming of the generations from the first man to Nuu,
of the great flood, and thence to Wakea, and downward still nearly
sixty generations to himself. Some differences existing between the
genealogies of Hawaii and Maui, Liloa had sent them to the latter
island to confer with its priests and historians, with the view of
reconciling their disagreements. Their mission was successful, and what
is known as the Ulu genealogy was the result of the learned conference.
These were among the friends of Liloa who, for the sake of the father
and the honor of the royal line, had patiently and earnestly sought
to divert Hakau from his barbarous practices. But he had scorned
their kind offices, made light of their learning, and finally denied
them admission to the palace. He hoped by his cruelty to drive them
from Waipio; but in the prophetic flames they had read their future,
and from within the sacred anu of the temple voices had come to them
enjoining patience; so they sat down and waited.
Arriving at Waipio, the messenger of Kaoleioku had but little
difficulty in finding the two priests of whom he was in search. It
was some hours after nightfall, but on inquiry he was directed to
their humble dwelling on the south side of the stream, and soon stood
at their door. It was dark within, and on making his presence known
two men appeared at the opening. The messenger saluted them politely,
and, observing but a single person, they cautiously stepped from the
door and inquired of the visitor his business with them.
By their garb and bearing he knew them to be priests, but that was not
enough; he could afford to make no mistake, so he dissembled and said:
"I have probably been misinformed; this is not the house of Monana,
the fisherman?"
"My friend," said Nunu, "your words do not mislead us. Whether for
good or evil I know not, but you are in search of Kakohe and Nunu,
and they are here. If you have business with them, speak; there are
no listeners."
The messenger answered by unfolding from a piece of kapa an ivory
talisman carved from a whale's tooth, which he handed to Nunu, with a
request that he would examine it. Stepping to a fire still smouldering
near the oven of the hut, the priest threw upon it a handful of dry
bark, which in a moment burst into a flame and enabled him to inspect
the palaoa. Returning and addressing a few words to his companion,
the priest said to the messenger:
"You are from Kaoleioku, of Waipunalei."
"I am from Kaoleioku, of Waipunalei," repeated the messenger, bowing.
"How long since?" inquired the priest.
"Late this morning," was the answer.
"You must have traveled swiftly, for the paths are rough and the
distance is a long day's journey," suggested the priest, cautiously.
"My feet have known no rest," was the brief reply.
"What news bring you of Kaoleioku?"
"None."
"Then why are you here with this palaoa?"
"Because so commanded by Kaoleioku."
"There are rumors of coming troubles on the borders of Hamakua. Has
Kaoleioku sent you to tell us of them?"
"I am here to say nothing of Kaoleioku, but to say for him, and to
say only, that he prays that Nunu and Kakohe will meet him under his
own roof at Waipunalei without delay."
"And nothing more?"
"Nothing more."
"You are discreet."
"I am simply the bearer of a message; and now that I have delivered
it, I am waiting for such answer as you may desire to send back with
me to Kaoleioku."
"When will you return?"
"To-night."
"Then tell Kaoleioku that his friends Nunu and Kakohe will be with
him by this time to-morrow. Now come," continued the priest, "there
is meat in the mua, and you must eat, for there is a wearying journey
before you."
The messenger was led into an adjoining hut, where meat and poi were
set before him, and half an hour after he was scaling the hills east
of the valley of Waipio.
Although the messenger was silent, the priests felt assured that
there was a gathering of spears in the neighborhood of Waipunalei,
and that Kaoleioku was secretly inciting a revolt. They knew that Umi
was somewhere among the hills of Hilo, and felt strong in hoping that
at the proper time he would be found at the head of the movement.
Hakau had very much underrated the power of the priesthood, and did not
discover until too late that in seeking to persecute and degrade Umi,
who had been given charge of the gods and temples by Liloa, he had
provoked the hostility of a class which at that period of Hawaiian
history no sovereign could safely defy. If the tabus of the moi were
sacred, those of the high-priests were none the less inviolable, and
the strongest chiefs in the group were those who held in greatest
respect and enjoyed the largest friendship of the priesthood. Like
the temporal rulers, the priests inherited their functions, and were
as jealous of their prerogatives as royalty itself. It was through
them that the civil as well as the religious traditions of the people
had been brought down and perpetuated, and through their prayers and
sacrifices only that the gods could be persuaded to accord success
to important undertakings.
In the veins of some of the priests ran royal blood, and from time
to time they left their heiaus and became distinguished as warriors;
but under no circumstances did they ever relinquish their sacred
rights. They not unfrequently possessed large landed estates, the
title to which remained inalienably in the family. Such, for example,
was the Kekaha estate, in the district of Kona, Hawaii, which was the
gift of Liloa to Laeanui, and which remained with the descendants of
that eminent high-priest until the days of Kamehameha I.
Such a warrior-priest of goodly possessions was Kaoleioku, of
Waipunalei. He was the high-priest of the temple of Manini, at
Koholalele, which was consecrated, as before related, in the time
of Liloa. Although for some years he had seldom officiated, except
on important occasions--preferring the quieter life of his estate at
Waipunalei--he was greatly respected by the people of the district,
and his influence proved a tower of strength to Umi.