Produced by David Edwards, Andrew Chesley and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
Transcriber's note:
This book contains Hawaiian words and some dialect ('sailor's cant/slang';
'Hawaiian English'), which have been retained.
Examples:
"Caught plenty on 'em," said the sailor. "Been around the Horn and up in
the Artic for sperm and right whales. Plenty of lay money too. Down in
Wyhee (Oh-why-hee* = Hawaii) plenty of gals and bananas."
* or similar spelling, seen on a statue of Captain James Cook,
k. 1779, Hawaii.
"the redmen to make their home near his hale and they should be aliis
in ... sent his lunapais into every valley and along the sea to summon
the alii...."
Sundry missing of damaged punctuation has been repaired.
The transcriber has corrected typographical errors
from the original book and listed them at the end of this text.
* * * * *
Hawaiian
Stories.
SIX PRIZE
Hawaiian Stories
OF THE
KILOHANA ART LEAGUE
Honolulu:
Hawaiian Gazette Company
1899
CONTENTS
Kalani--Emma L. Dillingham 5
A Legend of Haleakala--Geo. H. De La Vergne 24
Peleg Chapman's Sharks--W. N. Armstrong 44
'Twas Cupid's Dart--J. W. Girvin 64
Legend of Hiku i Kanahele--Mauricio 85
The Story of a Brave Woman--A Native 104
Kalani
CHAPTER I.
"_Auhea oe, Nalima? Elua nahae hou o kuu lole!_"[1] "_Auwe, pela?_"[2]
replied the old woman addressed, taking at the same time from Kalani's
hands a coat hat might best be described as one of many colors. The old
man seated himself on the floor of the little hut, and gazed at this
same coat in a manner savoring of dejection. "Yes," he said, "while I
was digging around the taro down by the stream, I left it hanging on a
branch of the big kukui tree, but when I returned to put it on, I found
that it had blown off, caught on a piece of bark and torn that hole. Do
you think you can mend it so that I can wear it on Sunday? You know I
have no other. _Pilikia maoli!_" (sad plight), and Kalani gave a grunt
that embodied many emotions.
[Footnote 1: "Where are you, Nalima? Here are two new rents in my
clothes!"]
[Footnote 2: "Oh dear! is that so?"]
Nalima's small, slightly withered hands were turning the coat tenderly.
Patch had already been placed upon patch, nearly every one differing in
material and color from the original fabric, which was a cotton twill,
and the bleachings of sun and soap had added variety in many shades of
blue and brown.
Yes, she had a little piece of blue flannel left that would just fit
his new rent, she mused, and the whole thing must be washed again. She
was sure she could have it ready to wear that same night. This hopeful
view enabled her old husband to start again with his _o-o_ (Hawaiian
spade) for the garden patch. He removed his tattered hat as he went,
revealing a head of fine proportions. The forehead was high and full,
and the top bald and shining. Soft, white locks clustered in his neck,
and a white beard several inches in length gave a distinguished look to
his face. Patience looked from his soft dark eyes and the expression
about his mouth was kind and firm. The small rush mat which Nalima had
been braiding when Kalani arrived with his tale of woe was laid aside,
and, from a very meager supply of housewifely stores, a needle, thread,
and bit of flannel were produced. Her dim eyes strained themselves to
adjust the patch to the torn edges, and her trembling hands set the
stitches with patient effort. Meanwhile the thoughts of the old wife
wandered into the past. The long-ago was a happy time to re-live. When
they were young, in Kauikeaouli's time, Kalani had been a _kanaka nui_
(great man) among Hawaiians. He had been a _luna_ (overseer) in their
valley and had directed the _konohiki_ (chief's resident land-agent)
labor for years. His own _kuliana_ (land-holding) was a large one, and
the rights of the stream for some acres were his. He in his turn
controlled the work of others for himself. Their house was large and
high and had a window of glass in one end; the _hikie_ (bedstead) was a
pile of mats soft and fine, and the bedding was of the finest _kapa_.[3]
There was always a plenty of _poi_[4] in the calabash; ti roots,
kukui-nuts, cocoa-nuts and breadfruit abounded for more delicate dishes.
They themselves were well and strong, and oh! how proud they were of
their boy and girl. Like a dream had been the years between. Sovereign
had succeeded sovereign. Epidemics has decimated the people. The
_konohiki_ labor had lapsed. Strangers had leased the lands, fences now
barred the way, and keys effectually locked the fastnesses from the
ramblers and seekers for shells and ferns. Their own acres had been
cajoled away from them, and only this little hut far up the valley, and
a small plot of land, on which they with difficulty raised a little
_taro_ and a few sweet potatoes, remained. They were allowed to retain
possession of this as compensation for guarding the leased lands of the
valley against trespassers, but they received no money. The children had
grown and gone. The daughter had married and lived a few years at Kona,
Hawaii, then died. The son had braved the Arctic cold and had been a
sailor for years on a whale ship. But many, many moons had passed since
his last visit home; probably he, too, was dead. They themselves were
growing old now; they had no chance to earn money; economy had
crystallized for them into the problem of how long they could make
things last. Kalani would be broken-hearted when his coat was too old to
wear to church, for, rain or sun, he faithfully attended the service at
the mouth of the valley every Sunday afternoon, walking several miles to
do so. While Nalima sewed and mused, Kalani, wrestling with mountain
_nahelehele_ (wild growth) was thinking too. Perhaps the vigor in the
arm that drove the _o-o_ into the grass stirred the thought cells in his
head; the mental result, however, was not retrospection, but
determination to do some thing in the immediate future to help the
present condition of affairs. "I _must_ have a new coat. I cannot wear
my old one to church any longer. I have no money, but perhaps some one
will give me clothes if I ask for them. I have never begged, and Nalima
wouldn't let me beg now if she knew about it; I musn't tell her. It is
more than two years since I have been beyond the church, but there are
_haole_ (foreign) families living not far from there, and I'll go to
them. I'll tell Nalima I'm going to try to sell some eggs, we've got six
saved in the pail, and perhaps I can buy some salmon to bring home to
her. It would taste good (_ono loa_) to her. I'll go tomorrow morning."
And, full of his resolve, Kalani shouldered his o-o and returned to his
hut.
[Footnote 3: A cloth made from bark.]
[Footnote 4: The Hawaiian "staff of life." A paste made of pounded
_taro_ root mixed with water.]