We now come to the final exploits of Kokoa and his clan in Oahu. It is
probable that they did not remain long in the immediate neighborhood
of Waialua, where the people were numerous and unoccupied lands were
scarce. Sending their scouts into the mountains in search of a safe
and uninhabited retreat, one of exceptional advantages was found in
the range east of Waialua, some eight or ten miles from the coast,
and thither they removed. The spot selected has since been known as
Halemanu. Before that time it was probably without any particular
name. It is a crescent-shaped plateau of two or three hundred acres,
completely surrounded by deep and almost precipitous ravines, with the
exception of a narrow isthmus, scarcely wide enough for a carriage-way,
connecting it with a broad area of timberless table-land stretching
downward toward the sea.
Nature could scarcely have devised a place better fitted for defence,
and Kokoa resolved to permanently locate there. Near the middle of
the plateau he erected a temple, with stone walls two hundred feet by
sixty, and twenty feet in height. This structure was also designed
as a citadel, to be used in emergencies. About fifty paces from the
temple was the hale of the chief--a stone building of the dimensions
of perhaps fifty feet by forty. It was divided into three rooms by
wicker partitions, and roofed with stout poles and thatch. Between this
building and the temple was a large excavated oven, with a capacity for
roasting four or five human bodies at the same time, and a few paces
to the westward was the great carving-platter of Kokoa. This was a
slightly basin-shaped stone rising a foot or more above the surface,
and having a superfice of perhaps six by four feet. A little hewing
here and there transformed it into a convenient carving-table, from
which hundreds of human bodies were apportioned to his followers by
Kokoa, who reserved for himself the hearts and livers, as delicacies to
which his rank entitled him. The lines of the buildings described may
still be traced among the tall grass, and the oily-appearing surface
of the carving-table, known as "Kalo's ipukai" bears testimony to this
day to the use made of it by the cannibals of Halemanu. The platter
is now almost level with the surface of the ground, and its rim has
been chipped down by relic-hunters, but time and the spoliations of
the curious have not materially changed its shape.
Having provided the plateau with these conveniences and the huts
necessary to accommodate his people, Kokoa next put the place in
a condition for defence by cutting the tops of the exposed slopes
leading to it into perpendicular declivities, and erecting a strong
building covering the width and almost entire length of the narrow
back-bone connecting it with the plain below. There was then no means
of reaching the plateau except by a path zigzagging down the upper
side to the timbered gulches beyond, or by the trail passing directly
through the building occupying the apex of the isthmus.
Of this entrance Lotu, the savage lieutenant of Kokoa, was made the
custodian. And there he sat in all weather, watching for passers,
the most of whom, if acceptable, he found a pretext for slaying and
sending to the great oven of his companions. His almost sleepless
watchfulness was due less to a disposition to serve others than to
his merciless instincts, which found gratification in blood-letting
and torture. Tradition says there was a hideous humor in the manner
in which he dealt with many of his victims. In allowing them to pass
he inquired the objects of their visits either to the plateau or the
gulches beyond. They informed him, perhaps, that they were in quest
of hala leaves, of poles for huts, of wood for surf-boards, of small
trees for spears, or of flints for cutting implements, as the case may
have been. When they returned he examined their burdens closely, and
if aught was found beyond the thing of which they were specifically
in search--even though so trifling an object as a walking-staff, or
a twig or flower gathered by the way--he denounced them as thieves
and liars, and slew them on the spot.
In this manner many hundreds of people were slain and eaten; but as
no one ever returned to tell the story of what was transpiring at
Halemanu, the cannibals remained for some time undisturbed. But if
their real character was not known, their isolation and strange conduct
gradually gained for them the reputation of being an evil-minded and
dangerous community, and visitors became so scarce at length that Lotu
found it necessary to drop down into the valleys occasionally in search
of victims. Nor were these expeditions, which demanded great caution,
always successful; and when they failed, Lotu sometimes secretly
killed and sent to the oven one of his own people, with faces mutilated
beyond recognition. Among these were all of his own relatives and two
of the three brothers of his wife. To escape the fate of the others,
the surviving brother, whose name was Napopo, fled to Kauai.
In physical strength Napopo was scarcely less formidable than Lotu;
but he was young in years, and lacked both skill and confidence in
his powers. To supply these deficiencies, and prepare himself for
a successful encounter with Lotu, which he resolved to undertake
in revenge for the death of his brothers, he sought the most expert
wrestlers and boxers on Kauai, and learned from them the secrets of
their prowess. He trained himself in running, swimming, leaping,
climbing, and lifting and casting great rocks, until his muscles
became like hard wood, and his equal in strength and agility could with
difficulty be found on all the island. And he skilled himself, also,
in the use of arms. He learned to catch and parry flying spears, and
hurl them with incredible force and precision. From the sling he could
throw a stone larger than a cocoanut, and the battle-axe he readily
wielded with one hand few men were able to swing with two. Having
thus accomplished himself, and still distrustful of his powers,
he made the offer of a canoe nine paces in length to any one who in
a trial should prove to be his master either in feats of strength
or the handling of warlike weapons. Many contested for the prize,
but Napopo found a superior in no one.
During the contests a strong man, with large jaws and a thick neck,
came forward and challenged Napopo to compete with him in lifting heavy
burdens with the teeth. The bystanders were amused at the proposal,
and Napopo was compelled by their remarks and laughter to accept it,
although he regarded it as frivolous. Fastening around his middle a
girdle of cords, he cast himself on the ground and said to the man:
"Now with your teeth lift me to the level of your breast." Stooping
and seizing the girdle in his teeth, the man with a great effort
lifted Napopo to the height demanded. The other was then girded in
the same manner. He seemed to be confident of victory, and said to
Napopo, as he threw himself at his feet: "You will do well if you
raise me to the level of your knees." Napopo made no reply, but bent
and gathered the girdle well between his teeth, and raised the body
to the height of his loins. "Higher!" exclaimed the man, thinking
the strength of his antagonist was even then taxed to its utmost;
"my body is scarcely free from the ground!" He had scarcely uttered
these words before Napopo rose erect, and with a quick motion threw
him completely over his head. Bruised and half-stunned by the fall,
the man struggled to his feet, and, with a look of wonder at Napopo,
hurriedly left the place to escape the jeers of the shouting witnesses
of his defeat.
Now confident of his strength and satisfied with his skill,
Napopo returned to Oahu in the canoe which so many had failed to
win. Landing at Waialua, he by some means learned that his sister,
Kaholekua, the wife of Lotu, had been killed by her husband. Arming
himself with a spear and knife of sharks' teeth, Napopo proceeded to
Halemanu. Arriving at the house barring the entrance to the stronghold,
he was met at the door by Lotu. Their recognition was cold. The eyes
of Lotu gleamed with satisfaction. No longer intimidated, as in the
past, Napopo paid back the look with a bearing of defiance.
"Leave your spear and enter," said Lotu, curtly.
Napopo leaned his spear against the house and stepped within,
observing, as he did so, that Lotu in his movements kept within reach
of an axe and javelin lying near the door.
"Where is Kaholekua?" inquired Napopo.
"There," replied Lotu, sullenly, pointing toward a curtain of mats
stretched across a corner of the room.
Without a word Napopo stepped to the curtain and drew it aside. He
expected to find his sister dead, if at all, but she was still
living, although lying insensible from wounds which seemed to be
mortal. With a heart swelling with rage and anguish, he closed the
curtain and returned to the door. He could not trust himself to speak,
and therefore silently stepped without, in the hope that Lotu would
leave his weapons and follow him. To this end he stood for a few
minutes near the entrance, as if overwhelmed with grief, when Lotu
cautiously approached the door. Advancing a step farther, Napopo
suddenly turned and seized him before he could reach his weapons,
and a desperate bare-handed struggle followed. Both were giants,
and the conflict was ferocious and deadly. From one side to the
other of the narrow isthmus they battled, biting, tearing, pulling,
breaking, with no decided advantage to either; but the endurance of
Napopo was greater than that of his older antagonist, and in the end
he was able to inflict injury without receiving dangerous punishment
in return. Both of them were covered with blood, and their maros had
been rent away in the struggle, leaving them perfectly nude.
Although Napopo had in a measure overpowered his mighty adversary,
he found it difficult to kill him with his naked hands. He could tear
and disfigure his flesh, but was unable to strangle him or break
his spine. He therefore resolved to drag him to the verge of the
precipice, and hurl him over it into the rocky abyss below. Struggling
and fighting, the edge of the gulf was reached, when Lotu suddenly
fastened his arms around his antagonist, and with a howl of desperation
plunged over the brink. Dropping downward to destruction together,
Lotu's head was caught in the fork of a tree near the bottom of the
declivity and torn from the body, and Napopo, clasped in the embrace
of the lifeless but rigid trunk, fell dead and mangled among the
rocks of the ravine still farther down.
Recovering her consciousness during the battle, Kaholekua dragged
herself from the house just in time to witness the descent of the
desperate combatants over the precipice. Approaching the verge,
she uttered a feeble wail of anguish and plunged headlong down the
declivity, her mangled remains lodging within a few paces of those
of her husband and brother.
The conclusion of these tragical scenes was observed by a party from
the plateau above--one tradition says by Kokoa himself. However this
may be, the cannibal chief concluded that Halemanu was no longer
a desirable retreat, and a few days after crossed the mountains to
Waianae with his remaining followers, and soon thereafter set sail
with them for other lands. What became of the party is not known;
but with their departure ends the latest and most vivid of the several
legends of cannibalism in the Hawaiian archipelago.