CHAPTER IV.

"Mamma," cried Ruth Hamilton, reining her horse beside her mother's

porch one afternoon a year later, "George and I have been for a ride out

to Wailupe and back, and as we came near the Palolo Valley road on our

way home, we saw a funeral procession coming down. It passed the corner

just as we reached it, and, what do you think! On the _top of the coffin

was a silk hat_, and George declares it's the same one Papa gave that

old man that came here one morning a good while ago!"

Even so, according to the customs which still obtain in many lands, and

which have been handed down through the centuries, of burying one's

choicest possessions with the body of the deceased, Kalani and his silk

hat were not parted in the grave.

EMMA L. DILLINGHAM.

A Legend of Haleakala

We stood shivering on the brink. At our very feet was the crater of

Haleakala, the House of the sun, but that luminary had gone to his other

realms and left his dwelling dark, unfathomable and void. No voice of

nature was there, no murmuring breeze, no note of bird, no spirit of man

or of God moved in those lone and abysmal depths. Only the brilliant

stars kept watch above, and they were immeasurable miles away.

We, who stood there in the cool morning air did not add in any way to

the majesty of the scene, wrapped as we were in blankets--red, white and

gray.

"Like lost spirits waiting for waftage to the other shore," remarked the

tourist.

"I am sure I have lost my spirits," said a shivering unfortunate, "I

think the guide stole them."

"It seems to me we look more like a group of savage Apaches on a bleak

mountain summit sketched by Remington," suggested the artist of the

crowd.

"Ah, there she blows," cried the first speaker pointing toward the east

where a shaft of light had just shot from the dark sea through the gray

clouds. We all turned and looked except the newly married couple. They

gazed into each others eyes as was their custom.

"I am so cold, dearest," she murmured.

I supposed he furnished her with a share of his red blanket though I was

not watching.

"Ladies and gentlemen," said the humorist, "the grand cyclorama of

sunrise on Haleakala is about to open, and as a preliminary, I move to

throw the poet over the brink as a propitiatory sacrifice to the God of

the Sun, who appears to be shocked by our appearance; and besides the

poet will attempt to describe this scene and he can't."

"Describe nothing," retorted the poet, "my teeth are chattering so my

tongue can't." "Let's throw the guide over, that will propitiate us

anyway."

But William, the guide, looked so calm and peaceful as he sat with his

back against a rock smoking a short black pipe, that we decided not to

disturb him.

Meanwhile the sun rose. He has done this so often that it has become a

matter of course with him. But rarely has he risen surrounded with such

pomp of circumstance and kingly glory. It might well have been his

coronation morning, with clouds of heavy gorgeousness upon his shining

shoulders, and the quick heralds of light sent to glorify the distant

mountain heights and to awaken the dark and slumbering sea. We seemed to

be moving in worlds unrealized as the light swept across the reach of

clouds at our feet, broken as a sea of tumbled ice, while around the

outer rim rose forms strange or fantastic, the clouds shaping themselves

into huge animals or rounding into noble palaces or turning into lofty

pinnacles, and on every one the sun had set a crown of flame. The light

with glowing hands pulled slowly back the shadows from the crater until

it stood clearly revealed in its silence and vastness. From West Maui to

Molokai stretched a heavy causeway of cloud beneath which lay the sea

dark and glowing like polished porphyry. The sun was above the cloud and

the common light of day lay round us.

"Tis past, the visionary splendor fades," remarked the poet, but the

remark was not original with him.

Our party now adjourned to the stone house on the summit known as

Cruyealece and after drinking some hot coffee and warming ourselves

around the open fire, the humorist and myself testified to our intention

of taking William and walking down into the crater. They all said that

we were decided idiots, and they would take their exercise out in

watching us. The newly married couple said nothing, but looked as I have

stated.

"I think that haole can't go down," remarked William, pointing to the

humorist. "His legs too thin, they break."

We all laughed except the humorist who could not see the joke.

"Break! you fat rascal," he exclaimed, "before I am done with you, you

won't be anything but an animated brown shadow."

With sarcastic comments which did not disturb our serenity and much

waving of handkerchiefs we began the descent. We went down at a very

rapid gait, the loose dirt smoking at our heels and the canteen thumping

against William's fat sides. In a half hour we reached the floor of the

crater and stopped to take breath. After William had lighted his pipe we

went on our way. First across the black lava flows and broken aa. In the

days of its storm and stress this had been the hot and glowing

life-blood of the great volcano, but now it was cold, black and

congealed. Beyond the flows we came to long stretches of volcanic sands

and the lofty cones rose above us, so perfect in form that it seemed the

slightest breath of air would disturb their symmetry. Their coloring was

wonderful, velvety black, gray and red shading into one another. And

through the vast silence the silvery notes of a bird floated down to us

from the far battlements of the crater.

After a toilsome tramp we reached the other side where the trees come

down the slope, and throwing ourselves down in the shade we looked

across the burning plain and enjoyed the coolness by way of contrast as

we smoked and took chance shots at stray goats coming down the ridge.

"Do you know any stories or legends connected with Haleakala, William?"

I asked.

"Yes, I know one, my grandma always telling."

"That's right, William," said the humorist, "take down your harp from

the weeping lauhala trees, and sing to us of the departed glories of

your race."

"You see my grandma great old woman, she kahuna, live at Hana. I hear

this story every since I was keiki. She says it comes down from some old

poets."

And after gazing across the crater for a while William began in his

native tongue:

"In former times from the distant Islands of the southern sea came a

strange people to Hawaii. On their spears were the great sharks' teeth,

and their tabu staffs were crowned with kapa black or white. They were

great of stature and became the mois of Hawaii. Then followed a people

from beyond the rising sun. Small and broad they were, and came in ships

such as were never before seen in Hawaiian seas. But stranger than these

peoples was an alien race which came from out the distant north from

whence the great trees come floating down upon the rivers of the sea,

and the tradewinds take their rise, which come to cool our valleys and

the burning sea.

It was in the days when Hua, the impious king reigned in Hana, on the

third day before the feast of Lono in the early morning when the

fishermen were returning, six canoes came from out a mist that floated

on the sea, and moved quickly in even line toward the curving beach. The

night before the omens had portended some dire event. The sacrifices had

risen from the blood stained lele and stalked beyond the heiau gate,

while, from the heights of Haleakala, issued the groanings of the

Thunder God. As the aliens strode upon the beach they were taller than

our tallest chiefs. Their skins were red as Pele blood that beats within

our heart, but their eyes were black as is that blood when it cools upon

the mountain sides, yet from them shot fire as the lightning from the

thunder clouds. Their heads were encircled by high feather leis which

swept backwards almost to the ground. Feathers were they grey and white

such as never grew upon the birds that fly within the forests or float

upon the sea.

The King took the strangers to his royal hale and gave them food and

drink. There was a woman with them, the wife of their great chief. She

appeared like a prophetess, only young. Her skin was pale as the white

sea foam. Her dark eyes seemed to gaze afar off, and her smile was like

the flash of sun upon the sea. When Hua saw her he desired her for

himself and his women became as nothing in his eyes. Therefore Hua urged

the redmen to make their home near his hale and they should be aliis in

the land though the priest Luahomoe, warned the king that their coming

would cast a shadow on his life. But the strangers would not dwell with

the king nor with his people, but made their home far up on the slope of

Haleakala where the gray clouds ever hang and the white rain falls

silently to the ground.

Sometimes when the feather hunters sought the mamo and the oo upon the

mountains they would see a figure of one of these men standing on the

highest mountain peak against the black clouds as though carved of

stone, then, suddenly he would raise his arms towards the sky and a cry

would come quick as a javlin piercing to the heart, or, they would hear

a rustling in the ferns and see a shape like a red moo moving through

the green, but whence it came or whither it went they could never tell.

It chanced that on a certain day their great chief came down to the

plain and went to see the king who was stretched at ease in front of his

hale on a kapa mat, while the trade winds waved the falling branches of

the kou trees like green kahilis above his kingly head. The great chief

stood and would not sit upon the matting brought by the attendant. Then

the king made a sign to one of his retainers who in a short time,

brought several maidens with flowers decking their dark hair, and

ornaments of pearl and shells upon their ankles and their arms. They

were the fairest in Hua's court. The King waved his hand toward where

they stood and said:

"Take these, O chief, they are yours, but let the white queen dwell with

me."

Then the great chief folded his arms and looked down at the king while

Hua's guard gathered close around him, for there was evil in the great

chief's eye, and the king was a very little man before him. Then he

grunted 'Umph' and turning left the presence of the king and went

quickly to his mountain home.

But Hua's heart was hot within his breast, so he vowed to take the great

chief's life and bring the white queen to his royal hale. Forthwith he

sent his lunapais into every valley and along the sea to summon the alii

and their warriors, but a messenger came the following day from the

great chief saying:

"I know your plotting and your heart O King. We will make an end of this

matter. Place your kingdom against the possession of the white queen.

Choose your mightiest warrior, and I will meet him. If I die, take the

white queen, but if your warrior dies your people and your lands are

mine, O King. But this one condition, I will choose the place where this

combat is to be fought."

The crafty Hua thought within his heart, "I will accept this challenge,

and if my champion fall my warriors will surround him and his men and

slay them. Then the white queen shall not escape me." So he assented. The

messenger then took the king and, pointing where the clouds were flowing

through the Kaupo gap, he said: "In yonder hollow mountain fights the

chief."

The king's heart was troubled then, but he dare not return upon his

spoken word. Among the alii there was none so tall and powerful as the

young Kuala. In all the sports of peace he was pre-eminent. While in war

none would hurl the spear so swiftly, nor use the javlin with such

skilled hands, and when he whirled the battle axe above his head none

could see it for the speed. He was chosen champion by the King.

For many days the priests consulted the oracles within the enclosure of

the sacred anu, but the omens puzzled them, and they said the Gods were

not at peace among themselves.

It was on the evening before the day just as the sun sank into the sea,

there came a cloud, blacker than the kapa for the dead, moving slowly

above the sea, and the gray rain following as a veil behind it. The air

around was very still. Then, suddenly the cloud turned to crimson and

the mountain and the thousands on the beach were reddened as though by

the glow from a great fire. All were frightened, but Kuala only laughed

and said, "If it storms now it will be cooler on the morrow." The old

priest shook his head and said, "My son, that mountain height will be

plenty cool enough for thee."

Late in the afternoon of the destined day the hosts of Maui were

gathered in the arms of the great mountain. Foremost stood the King.

Around his shoulders fell the yellow mamo cloak, and on his head a

helmet yellow as his robe save its crest which was red with the feathers

of the scarlet bird. Behind him stood the priests in feather cloaks red

as the blood of their sacrifices, while in a half circle rose the

hundred alii in cloaks mingled with the royal yellow and the priestly

red. As the sunlight shone upon them they were in form and color as the

rainbows bent over the valleys green, and on the rounded hills of sand

above them stood the warriors thicker than the leaves upon the forest

trees, and their thousand spears made the red hills black. A murmur ran

amongst them as when the voice of the sea comes on the south wind and

the sky is gray. The priests chanted in low tones, the meles of Kuala's

race, and waved their arms as they sang of heroic deeds. Kuala stood

quietly by the king and looked across the lava plain where, in the

distance, could be seen the red men moving, one behind the other, in a

line. They came swiftly. When they reached a hundred paces from where

stood the king, they stopped and the white queen stood forth before

them. Her color was no longer as the pale foam, for the blood beat

quickly in her cheeks, and she breathed as though she had been running,

while her eyes shone so that even Hua turned his glance away. The great

chief stood near her but impassive as though carved of stone. Behind

them the warriors stood lean and red with strange colors on their faces,

and their heads were crowned with warlike feathers. They moved not, nor

looked upon the warriors on the hills, regardless of them as though they

were but crawling ants. Then the messenger of the chief advanced across

the sand and stood before the king.

"O King, the chief is ready now to offer the victim chosen by you for

the sacrifice."

Hua replied, "My champion is here at my right hand, and to-night we will

wrap your chief in the funeral kapa, and the black sharks will dine upon

his flesh." He would have spoken more but the messenger turned upon his

heel and left the king.

Kuala threw aside his feathered cloak and advanced slowly towards the

level sand. Then there rose a shout from the hosts upon the hill louder

than the thunder of the great waves falling on the beach, and the

priests chanted in loud tones beating wildly on their sacred drums. The

great chief advanced to meet his foe but stopped, and with arms

outstretched towards the sun gazed straight into its burning light while

his voice reached to the remotest warrior on the hills, though none

could understand the words, so strange they were. Then he turned and

faced Kuala, who stood twenty paces distant. All was quiet as is the air

before a coming storm. Kuala slowly raised his spear above his head and

bending quickly forward sent it with such force that none could see it

in the air, but the great chief was quicker than the spear and it went

past him deep into the sand. His spear flew so close to Kuala that he

felt the wind of its speed upon his cheek. The second time they raised

their arms together and send the weapons whirling through the air. The

warrior's spear struck some feathers from the great chief's head, whose

weapon went straight to Kuala's heart, but before it touched his body

Kuala caught it with his hands and turned its course aside, but

staggered backwards with the force. Then the warriors cried in

lamentation on the hills, but when they saw he was unhurt a shout arose

louder than the first. The last spear Kuala poised above his head was of

polished koa tipped with ivory, whose point had been dipped in Po's dark

waters, carrying death upon its slightest touch. But it never reached

the red chief's for the two spears met in the air with a great clash and

fell broken on the sand. Then the warriors rushed towards each other and

met midway on the sands, their javelins clashing as they met. Suddenly

the light had faded while gray clouds covered the crater as with a roof,

and the white rain began to fall thick and fast, lying like white stars

on cloaks of the alii and of king. Kuala and the great chief could be

dimly seen as they whirled around each other in the strife faster than

sea birds on the wing. Now rushing together, now stepping quick aside,

but Kuala's breathing could be heard by the king and his alii standing

near; while the great chief moved quicker than the red lightning from

the clouds, without a sound save when his javelin struck the warriors.

But moving backward from Kuala's rush his heel struck upon a stone and

he swayed slightly. Then the warrior's javelin tore his shoulder till

the red blood came. With a cry that made the king and all his followers

shiver as with cold, he sprang past Kuala's javelin and fastened his

teeth within the flesh and his face was like a demon as he tore the

warrior's throat, and Kuala fell slowly back upon the sand, writhing in

quick death. Then the Hulumanu, standing by the King, threw his spear

and pierced the great chief who fell face downward on the sand. From the

hills the warriors came with a mighty rush as slides the land from the

steep mountain sides, while the red men awaited their coming with faces

lean and fierce. They stood as does a rock within the sea when the great

waves surge upon it fall back in beaten foam until one mightier than the

rest o'erwhelms it. So stood, so fell the red men on that day. Hua

marked not the raging of the strife but through the tumult pushed his

way toward where the white queen stood alone. She fled with exceeding

swiftness, moving like a shadow through the falling mist. Hua, in

furious anger, raised his spear and sent it straight towards her as she

fled. Then the cloud grew thicker and closed around them. Instantly a

great cry was heard and the King's people found him bleeding on the sand

with his spear point centering in his breast. Whither the white queen

went none ever knew. But sometimes the hunter, following his lonely

trail through the great mountain, sees a woman's form wrapped in moving

mist and with dark hair floating wildly around the pallor of her face."

"That's all," said the guide.

"That's quite a little lie, William," said the humorist.

"I don't know, the old lady says it is just so."

As we started on our homeward trail the clouds had rolled through the

two gaps and an opaque mist lay around us. William headed the procession

and we had gone about a quarter of a mile and were near the great cone

when William stopped suddenly and grasped the humorist by the arm,

almost white with terror.

"Look!" he said, pointing towards where the fog had lifted somewhat, and

a current of air was whirling the mist, and, in the mist a woman's form

and face could be clearly seen. I looked inquiringly at the humorist.

"Can such things be," he said, "and overcome us like a summer cloud,

without our special wonders?"

"There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio," I suggested.

Then we went on in silence through the falling mist, but the humorist

took the lead.

GEO. H. DE LA VERGNE.

Peleg Chapman's Sharks

Mr. Dole and I were standing in front of one of the caves which are

found near the edges of the bay of Hanauma which is situated this side

of Koko Head. We were there for several days of recreation. Mr. Dole was

glad to get away from the Executive building, where his Ministers had

caged various bees in their bonnets. These bees often wrangled with the

bees in his own bonnet, and by temporarily separating them, the

different bees ameliorated their buzzing, and a general rest prevailed.

Mr. Dole said he preferred to take recreation with one who had outgrown

the bee-hive age and the age of other annoying human devices.

"Do you see that flat stone?" I asked, pointing to one that lay under

some lantana bushes, and was partially concealed by the sand and just

beyond the reach of the surf.

"I see it," said Mr. Dole. "Do you think that some person with a bee in

his bonnet has been around? Has the stone a story?"

"Well," I said, "that stone belonged to the foundation of a house which

Peleg Chapman built away back in the 'thirties.'"

"Tell me the story," said Mr. Dole and he sat down on the grass, as if it

were his Cabinet, and stretched his legs out towards the much sounding

sea.

I then told him the story as I had obtained it from the most authentic

sources, included in which were some scraps in Peleg Chapman's

handwriting.

Peleg's father, Silas Chapman, was a poor but honest farmer who lived in

Stockbridge, Massachusetts, near the State line. He had been eminently

successful in achieving poverty, which he shared generously with his

wife and sons. Though mentally dull in most matters, he possessed a rare

gift for training animals of all kinds. He was a master of those

inarticulate sounds, and musical notes which curiously convey ideas to

animals. He talked with his dogs and cats, and made them useful. His

trained squirrels brought him abundance of nuts, and his trained robins

brought him cherries without injuring them. His cows, pigs, and chickens

did curious tricks, and when gathered together in the barnyard, under

his voice and eye, were more orderly than the General Assembly of the

State. These useful animals did much to relieve the family poverty. The

collie dogs stole watermelons and rolled them home, and the tame crows

supplied the cattle with ripe corn from the neighbors' fields.

Peleg inherited from his father this singular gift of training animals,

and he had listened to his luminous expositions of the subject.

"Peleg," he said, "all an'mals think. Ef you only larn how they think,

you ken do anything with 'em. Each on 'em has a little different way of

working his gumption, but you kinder sit along side 'on 'em, get to

communin' with 'em in a slow fashion, and you'l find 'em ekal to human

critters."

Peleg in due time became more skillful than his father, in training

animals. He caught a young eagle over in Lenox, and trained him to

relieve the family poverty by stealing chickens over in York State. The

eagle was not morally very strong, and often brought home the tough

roosters, after eating the tender chickens.

One day, when Peleg was away, the eagle being in a contrary mood, seized

Silas Chapman's Sunday coat, and flying away with it dropped it into the

Housatonic river. When Peleg reached home, his father told him that the

eagle had done a mean job, and that he must pay for the stolen coat.

Peleg refused on the ground that animals had no morals.

"Dad," he said, "you be livin' off them thievin' dogs and birds." Then

said his father: "I guess Peleg you and me has got to have some

interestin' conversation in the barn, this evenin'."

Peleg acted promptly on this suggestion. At four o'clock, with a small

sum of money, he secretly went to the station, and boarded the Boston

express. He left a note to his mother saying he was going off and his

dad might lick the eagle if he caught him.

On reaching Boston, he wandered about until he reached the Frog pond in

the Common. He had often heard that its waters were sacred in the eyes

of every Bostonian. Feeling much depressed he took out of his pocket a

copy of the Westminster Catechism, which every child studied in those

days, and by accident glanced over the rough wood cuts of Biblical

incidents. His eye fell on that of a very stiff looking whale, with a

very stiff looking Jonah in front of it, waiting with a very resigned

look to be swallowed.

While he was getting some comfort out of Jonah's resigned look, a

sea-faring man took a seat by his side, on the public bench, and after

glancing at the picture in Peleg's hand, remarked: "purty stiff lookin'

whale I guess."

"Ever see'd one?" asked Peleg.

"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 plenty of gals and bananas."

"Goin' again?" asked Peleg.

"Yes, next week," said the sailor.

"Take me?" asked Peleg.

"Guess you can ship on the Julian," said the sailor. "Fresh fo'cas'le

hand gets one hundred and fortieth lay. That's his share of all the oil

and bone the vessel takes in her cruise. Have good luck, plenty of

money," said the sailor.

Peleg glanced at the stiff figure of the whale, closed the book, and

said, "I'm goin'."

On reaching New Bedford, he shipped on the Julian, signed ship's

articles, and went on board with a new kit. The vessel sailed for the

Pacific and the Arctic ocean.

For a few days, Peleg would have been willing to return home and take

the vicarious punishment for the eagle's sins rather than sleep in a

fo'cas'le bunk. But the ship bowled along towards the equator, and the

carefully expurgated yarns of the crew kindled his enthusiasm.

He caught and trained some sea gulls to fetch fish for the cabin and

for'rad deck so that his shipmates, instead of calling him a blankety

land lubber, took pains to teach him the art of handling ropes, and

chewing old plug tobacco, and reading the sulphurous marine literature

of the age.

The Julian took five hundred barrels of sperm oil off the island of Juan

Fernandez, and finally dropped her anchor in the harbor of Honolulu, for

the purpose of getting wood and water and fresh provisions.

On going ashore, Peleg was amazed at the abundance of bananas of which

he was very fond, but for which the price at home was one shilling each.

As he gorged himself, he began to think of exchanging his marine

interest in the Pacific for a residence on the Islands. He felt

justified in deserting, because the air of the forecastle was bad, and

the captain had refused to reconstruct the vessel and place saloon

cabins at the disposal of the crew. He obtained from Mellish & Co., ship

chandlers, an advance of $300 on his lay, and deserted. He concealed

himself at Waimanalo, until the vessel sailed for the Arctic, and then

keeping out of the way of the native police or "kikos," he crossed over

into Manoa valley and followed the coast line from Waikiki towards Koko

Head. Finding the secluded bay of Hanauma he remained there. It was

surrounded by a high ridge, as it was part of an extinct crater, and one

side of it had fallen in towards the ocean, so that it was almost land

locked, and the surf and heavy seas rushed through the narrow opening.

With the aid of a native, he laid a foundation of flat stones and built

upon them a thatched house. The native brought him fruit and vegetables,

and he caught an abundance of fish.

While the Julian was off the island of Juan Fernandez, Peleg had studied

the numerous sharks found there. He discovered that the many rows of

teeth in the mouth of the female shark were flexible, and rested on

elastic gums. They could be laid flat, at the will of the shark. The

reason for this curious arrangement was this. Whenever the young sharks

are in danger, the mother shark opens her mouth, lays down her teeth,

and the young sharks pass over without danger, into a pouch in her body

where they remain until the danger is over. He had counted as many as

seventy, each of them about three feet long, at one time diving into

their mother's mouth, and emerging after the danger was over. He

remembered that Prof. Aggasiz or some noted naturalist, had suggested

that in some remote period a female kangaroo had tumbled overboard from

some prehistoric canoe, and, according to Mr. Darwin, had adapted itself

to the new environment, and become a shark. The pouch for the young

which appears on the outside in the case of the kangaroo, appears as a

pouch on the inside of the shark.

Peleg learned from the natives that at times fish were very scare in the

Honolulu market. During the visits of the whaling fleets which often

numbered over a hundred vessels, the demand could not be supplied with

any regularity. When there was bad weather, the canoes could not put out

to sea, and there was a fish famine excepting so far as it could be

supplied from the local fish ponds that were entirely owned by the

chiefs and King.

Besides there were some rare fish which the chiefs were especially fond

of which were found only in deep water and could only be obtained under

the most favorable circumstances of tide and weather. Such were the

Kawele-a, the Ahi, the Ono and the Omaka. The Ahi was a very delicate

fish and was found only off the coast of Hawaii, and was seldom seen in

Honolulu markets.

Peleg said to himself: "Why not train sharks to catch fish? It may be as

dad said, some bother to find out their way of thinkin' and they live in

the water. But they has eyes and ears, and they hasn't got them things

for nothing."

He caught, with the aid of some natives, an immense female shark, and

before the young ones could hide, he captured them all, and put them in

a pond he built up in the water. He began to educate them. At first they

were quite vicious, and refused to be cheerful. But Peleg knew that from

the crab to the seraphim, the appeal to the appetite was most effective.

After repeated experiments, he found that sharks had a most

extraordinary fondness for salt pork. There was a monotony of freshness

in their ordinary diet, excepting as a sailor with a rich tobacco

flavor, fell in their way once in a while. He also discovered that the

addition of beans to the pork made the food especially attractive, and

the young sharks quickly submitted to discipline with this reward before

them.

He saw that they thought in their crude way, just as dogs and birds

thought, and their hearing was like that of other animals. By tapping

stones under water he could call them, but he generally used a speaking

tube which he thrust into the water. By using rags of different colors,

he trained them to distinguish between colors. He taught them to fetch

and carry sticks, and then pieces of meat. As they grew older, he

trained them to search for fish in the bay, and to bring them in without

injuring them as they took them in or cast them out of their pouches.

Pork and beans were liberally used as rewards. He was finally successful

in teaching them to distinguish between the grades of fish and as it

were, take orders for special kinds and leave the rest. The most

intelligent learned to travel long distances, even to Maui and Hawaii,

and find the feeding grounds of the rare fish of which he kept samples

in a pond, and exhibited to them whenever he desired a supply of that

variety.

He never permitted the natives to watch him while in his training

school. He gave names to the expert and reliable sharks. His reading was

limited so that he selected names from the Bible and from the names of

the towns near his home. He called them "Lenox belle," "Barrington

belle," "Pittsfield belle," "Lee belle," "Bashbish belle," "Stockbridge

belle," and many other Berkshire names were used. The Scriptural names

were "Queen of Sheba," "Jezabel," "Mehita-bel" and "Assyrian girl," with

other such names. The word "belle" appealed to his poetic instinct.

He graduated the sharks after two years of training, and then opened

business. He purchased a canoe, and paddled out to sea, followed by more

than twenty submissive fish. He sent them off singly or by battalion, as

he called it. In the battalion form, they moved out on an extended line

and drove the fish desired towards the caves and small inlets, where

they were easily caught, taken into the pouches, and brought to Peleg's

canoe, and pork and beans were liberally served out in return.

On the arrival of the next whaling fleet, Peleg entered Honolulu harbor

every morning with a large load of mullet in his canoe or with other

excellent fish. After disposing of them to the whalers, he put out of

the harbor at once, and joined his "sea hounds" as he called them, who

waited for him outside the reef. His enormous catches attracted the

attention of the natives, who once followed him in the hope of finding

his rich fishing grounds. They were especially surprised at his large

catch during stormy weather, when they could not go out in their canoes.

Nor, by watching Hanauma bay could they get any information, as there

were no nets there, and the sharks attracted no attention.

On one occasion as he was paddling along the Waikiki shore after selling

his load of fish, he met a fleet of native canoes that had no luck.

Taking compassion on them, he dipped his tube under water, gave the sign

for mullet to his sea dogs, shipped his paddle, and lit his pipe. In an

hour the noses of his hunters rubbed against the side of the canoe, and

leaning over, he pulled out of their mouths more than six hundred pounds

of mullet, and threw them into the canoes of the natives. The natives

were stricken with terror at the sight, and dropped their paddles with

the exclamation: "He is a kahuna (sorcerer) of the shark god."

He was soon regarded as an akua (god). No natives dared to enter the bay

of Hanauma.

At the end of each whaling season he accumulated considerable sums in

gold, a part of which he hid and a part he invested in the purchase of

shares in whalers. After the season, he engaged in fishing for the rare

fish only, which he supplied to the King and chiefs. Whenever the King

said: "Peleg, my friend, I want some of the Ahi," Peleg sent four of his

leading sharks to the Kona coast, and they returned within ten hours,

with an abundance.

The King sent for him one day and said to him: "You are the most

valuable man in my kingdom, and as my predecessors rewarded Isaac Davis

and John Young with matrimonial alliances, I would be glad to have you

look around and if you see any attractive female of the royal connection

that you would like to marry, you may take her until otherwise ordered.

I wish for useful men about my throne. I put on no airs, excepting a

white cotton shirt. If you accept my offer you are authorized to wear an

Admiral's cocked hat, and new boots on State occasion." Peleg replied

that he recognized the honor, but that his heart belonged to his sharks

and to the daughter of a carpenter who lived near the York State line,

and he expected to visit her very soon.

A fanatical native attempted to "anaana" him or pray him to death. He

gathered grass and burned it. The oily kukui nuts were thrown on the

fire, and the whole resources of the Polynesian Black Art were brought

into use. But Peleg lived.

A missionary, hearing of his remarkable powers, visited him and inquired

about his ancestors, and among other questions asked him if he had

become a heathen and allowed himself to become a kahuna or sorcerer. He

replied that he did not hanker after heathenism, but, he said, that if

he was in the missionary business he would open a conjuring saloon and

beat all their old kahunas at sleight of hand tricks, and that would

soon bring the whole crowd over to his side. The heathen, he said,

couldn't do much thinking but if they saw him pull a rabbit out of his

nose, or take a taro out of a man's ear, they would smash the business

of their own conjuring priests. Seein' was believin'. Conjuring tricks

would finally bust up their superstitions. The missionary said he and

his associates could not look upon the matter in that way, but he would

write to the American Board about it, and ask it to send out a

respectable conjurer of high moral principle who would hitch a moral to

the tail end of every trick, and then challenge a native sorcerer to do

any better.

Peleg said that although he was a perverted Puritan, he would supply all

of the Honolulu missionaries with fish without charge.

As he had received a very limited education owing to his father's

flourishing poverty, he seldom wrote any letters. He did not forget his

mother, however. She received from time to time, through Bunker & Co.,

of New Bedford, comfortable sums of money, with the statement that they

came from her son, who was somewhere on the equator, and would come home

after awhile. He also sent to Patsy McGloural, who had grown up and did

the chores in the family of a rich paper manufacturer, a sandal wood

box, and a dress of the finest Chinese silk, which he got from one of

the vessels in the sandal wood trade. This dress was the finest in

Berkshire county, and when Patsy put it on and went to church, it

attracted the attention of the women, so that the preacher gave out the

hymn about being "naked, poor and sinful."

Peleg had invested his money in shares in the whaleships, which made

very profitable voyages, from Honolulu to the Arctic and Japan seas, and

he became rich for a Berkshire man. After ten years of fishing he

resolved to go home. He found a young man who came from the neighboring

town of Hinsdale, on one of the new whalers, and after giving him a long

trial, instructed him in the business. He consulted an attorney in

Honolulu, and executed an instrument establishing the "Peleg Chapman

Shark Trust," the income of which was to be used in feeding his faithful

sharks with pork and beans, and in supplying the poor natives of

Honolulu with fish.

He then sailed for New Bedford, and on arriving there, went directly

home. He arrested the even course of his father's poverty, but did not

inform his indigent but acute parent of the sources of his fortune. He

built for his mother the finest chicken house in the county, and

presented her with a neat buggy and a gentle horse. He soon married

Patsy, and was known as Squire Chapman. As a leading authority on

travel, he had no equal in those parts. Subsequently, with the aid of a

young student from Williams College, he published in rather Sophomorical

language, a book which had a wide circulation titled, "Chapman's

researches in the islands of the Pacific."

'Twas Cupid's Dart

A Hawaiian Love Story.

Many years ago there lived in Hoikaopuiaawalau, in Hamakua, on Maui, a

Hawaiian maiden whose story I will tell as I heard it from one who knew

it too well.

"Her name, which they said was given her by her _kupuna_, Hikiau, who

was a favorite chief under Kamehameha the great, was

Kalaninuiahilapalapa, but we always called her Lani.

At the time we first met her she was about eleven years of age, very

pretty, with regular features and long, black, silky hair. Like many of

the natives she had beautiful gazelle-eyes, such as one never tires of

gazing into. Probably those eyes cost her most of her--well we will tell

it.

She lived with her parents in that beautiful little fern-clad valley,

known today as Awalau, where her father worked in a sawmill. He was a

very large and powerful man and as good natured as large men usually

are.

His name was Kapohakunuipalahalaha, but as that was unnecessarily long,

we shortened it to Nui, and a faithful man Nui was at any kind of work.

Those who know what sawmill work is know that great strength is

appreciated, especially when you are depending on a man to keep his end

of a cant-hook up to time. He was as hospitable as the natives have the

reputation of being, and that is saying a good deal.

Lani's mother, Kamaka, was a sprightly woman of about thirty-five and

did her part to make "life in the woods" pleasant. Neither mother nor

daughter appeared to have many household cares and seemed to take

delight in wandering up and down the valley in quest of land shrimps,

which they caught in a cornucopia-shaped basket made of wicker work.

These, with the little black fish named oopu which they found adhering

to the stones in the brook, and a fern frond called pohole, together

with poi, the Hawaiian staff of life, constituted the principal part of

their diet. They were also very fond of pig and chicken and never

begrudged the labor or time spent in getting up a luau. From them we had

an insight into the Hawaiian mode of living and were surprised to note

to what an extent the natives are dependent on the sea for a livelihood.

Sometimes Nui would take a day off, whether the master liked or not, and

take his family to the beach, when they employed themselves in fishing.

They would return with the greatest assortment of shell-fish and fish of

many sizes of the most varied colors. Also they would bring limu of

several kinds and odors. Limu, you know, is seaweed, and there appear to

be as many varieties of it as there are of ferns on the land. There is

also a variety of it found in the streams adhering to the rocks on the

bottom, which we were always taught to beware of at home, but which the

natives eat with cooked meats with great gusto.

They always kept a store of kukui nuts, which they roasted; then

breaking up the kernels fine and mixed with salt, they ate it as a

relish.

The women took delight in adorning themselves with leis, made either of

the maile, which grew in profusion on the steep sides of the ravines, or

of the _palapalai_, a luxuriant fern which clothes the valleys as with a

garment. Sometimes they would make leis of the fruit of the hala tree,

the _pandanus_, which was also very plentiful in that part of the

island. Sometimes they would inter-twine the bright hala fruit and the

fragrant glossy leaves of the maile, which made a very beautiful lei,

especially on an olive skin as a background.

Often we were called in to eat with them and learned to like almost all

their native dishes. It was always the custom to call in any stranger

passing, to share their food with them. Their style of cooking, viz:

under ground, or in a saucepan over an open fire, seemed to give the

food a piquancy which had charms for us.

Lani had a very sweet voice and accompanied her singing with a guitar,

which she played very sweetly and many an evening we passed about the

campfire very comfortably. She could yodel like an inhabitant of the

Swiss Alps and often we would hear her singing and yodeling as she came

up the valley to cross up to the tableland where we were cutting the

large koa trees, preparatory to hauling them to the mill to turn into

the handsome lumber so much sought after for making fine furniture.

There was not a man in the camp who was not charmed with her.

There was a little Chinaman who came up through our valley, leading pack

horses, whose business was buying _pepeiao_, an ear-shaped fungus which

is found very plentiful on the trunks of decayed trees on the windward

sides of all the islands. The natives gathered and dried these and were

always glad to see the Chinaman come around, as they were enabled to

exchange them for either cash or the sweet cakes which he carried in his

panniers. This fungus contains a good deal of gelatinous matter and was

formerly largely exported to China, where it is used for soup making.

This poor little waif of a Celestial, named Leong Sing, fell in love

with our Lani at first sight and the frequent occasions he took for

wandering up our valley were not warranted by the inextensive trade

which he found. He made the acquaintance of a Chinaman who had a camp in

a neighboring valley, where he was making charcoal from the branches of

the koa trees, which he purchased from us. He got to staying over night

with his friend and would sometimes join our campfire of an evening and

listen to Lani's singing. None of us suspected him of the effrontery of

falling in love with our Lani or of expecting her to reciprocate his

affection. While at work one day in the woods her father told us that

the Chinaman had proposed and wanted to carry her off to Lahaina, where

his uncle had a large store. This was a greater temptation to Lani than

we suspected, as she was very fond of good clothes and the Chinese are

noted for taking the best of care of their wives in that respect. Also

was not Lahaina the capital, where young people were numerous and where

her accomplishments would be appreciated?

Her father had higher aspirations for his daughter and wished that she

might marry a haole.

There was a young man in camp, named Frank Willoughby, (evidently a

purser's name) who had come round the Horn in a whaler and had decamped

as soon as the vessel touched at Honolulu, as many of our best and worst

men did. Frank had a good education and was a very fine looking, healthy

young fellow of a most amiable disposition. When Frank heard of the

Chinaman's proposal he said he would kill the saffron-colored Celestial

on sight and break every bone in his body for his presumption. Then we

knew that Frank was badly smitten.

But he was not the only one who was struck bad, as there was a young

half Hawaiian-Portuguese named Joe Edwards who was also very

denunciatory of the Chinaman and expressed a wish for his speedy demise.

Some of us had noticed that Frank was jealous of Joe, as the latter

could play the ukeke or Hawaiian Jew's harp, very well, and as a

stranger cannot tell what the player is singing on the instrument to his

_dulcinea_, Frank could not understand how far Joe had got along in his

courtship.

There was another party who was heels over head in love with Lani and

this was so utterly unexpected that when the _denouement_ took place,

"you might knock us all down with a feather." This was a big hulk of a

black Portuguese named Shenandoah, from his having been captured on a

whaler by that Confederate pirate when on her marauding excursion

amongst the whalers in the Arctic, from whence he was returned to

Honolulu with many others. He was a most repulsive, villainous-looking

scoundrel, with black warts on his face; an Iago who could never capture

our Desdemona and consequently never came into our calculations.

Anyway the Chinaman's name was "mud" from that time on.

Frank could not talk much native and Lani's English education had been

sadly neglected, but it would not be the first instance where love was

made with the eyes and not the tongue.

The work in the woods, felling those mammoth koas and hauling them with

cattle to the mill, was looked on more as play than work, but we were

very tired at night just the same. The _ieie_, an almost impenetrable

climbing vine, seemed to take delight in wrapping its rootlets around

those koas, to the vexation of the woodsman, and it would sometimes take

hours to get at the trunk of a tree. In chopping this ieie the axe would

sometimes fly back to the peril of the chopper. Once Frank had the bad

or good luck to get cut in the head with his axe and as he bled very

freely we were much alarmed and took him down to the camp. Kamaka put a

bandage of some native herbs about his head and he remained at home for

two or three days. How far his courtship progressed during his

convalescence we were never able to learn. Joe said he wished he himself

could get his foot cut off or something that he might be invalided.

Sometime after this the boss told us we could all go down to Wailuku for

a holiday and spend the Fourth of July, which was going to be grandly

celebrated that year on account of some favorable news from home,

provided we would take a load of koa lumber down. Horses were not very

plentiful with us and we were to ride on the load. As Nui and Shenandoah

were to drive the six yoke of oxen and Lani and her mother were to ride

we jumped at the opportunity.

The cattle were brought in from the woods, after a tedious search for

them, for a bullock can hide himself easier under the parasitic vines

and convolvulus which hang from those mammoth koas than anywhere under

the sun. The wagon being loaded and the load bound on with chains we

eight took our places for an eighteen-mile ride. Lani had provided leis

for each of us and she and her mother had collected an immensity of

ferns and ki leaves for a cushion to make the soft side of the boards

softer, and we had a large hamper of lunch and a merrier party never

started for an ox-cart ride.

We got away about 5 a. m., Nui and Shenandoah walking on either side of

the team and there never was more fun in a basket of monkeys than on

that wagon. He had our old standbys, Nigger and Puakea on the tongue and

the young cattle ahead and the trouble these cattle caused, "I couldn't

be telling." They would dash ahead and fetch up, then they would turn on

their tracks and get tangled in the chains, then after a lot of bad

language they would get straightened out and make another break, and

this was repeated _ad nauseam_.

When we got them up out of the valley and the weight of the load was

relieved they made a break to run and almost pulled the heads off the

tongue cattle, who, I believe, would sooner have lost those extremities

than have been so undignified as to go faster than a walk. Down we went

through Kawaiki, and through Huluhulunui, Puaahookui, and Kaluanui

gulches, the young cattle on the tear and the old ones on their

haunches, notwithstanding the chain lock which we had on the wheels. The

only thing to hold on to was the binding chain and after getting our

hands nipped a few times we preferred to maintain our positions by

leaning up against each other. We could not refrain from remarking on

the solicitude which both Frank and Joe exhibited for Lani's welfare,

doing everything they could devise for her comfort. We have helped tip

over a pair of bobs in the snow at home to hear the girls squeal, but we

never had an experience of riding on a bullock cart with a trio of

lovesick people when every instant produced a bump which would drive a

sane person into insanity.

The sun came up right glorious and gave us the benefit of its full

actinic rays for the whole day. However, had we been in a palace car we

could not have had more fun.

All across that sunburnt plain from East Maui plantation to the beach at

Kahului we bumped over rocks and into gullies, for who ever knew of a

bullock team fool enough to miss any of those opportunities of getting

even on man for his inhumanity to them. Towards 1 P. M. we reached

Kahului, the cattle with their tongues hanging out this three hours for

lack of water. Here was plenty of it and the whole team rushed into the

sea only to find that this fluid which so much resembled water was not

the kind they were accustomed to.

Now we were in real danger of getting drowned or getting the wheels

stuck in the quick-sand. Frank suggested that we take the wheels off our

chariot, the way Pharaoh did and float ashore. He was told to kulikuli

and suggest some way out of the difficulty which was feasible. All of us

knew how to direct the drivers however, and if they had listened to us

we would have been there yet. Nui dashed into the water to seaward of

the cattle and striking one of the young leaders on the nose it bellowed

with pain and turned shorewards and we were saved, probably for a worse

fate. We arrived safely at Wailuku and hastened to relieve ourselves of

the superfluous real estate gathered on the way, for the winds of

Kahului isthmus can carry more red dirt per cubic inch than any simoon

in Arabia, and deposit it more evenly on any obstructing surface.

That evening we met Lani and her mother at the village store and

postoffice and she soon became the recipient of much in the line of

bright colored dress goods. Frank received a remittance from home and

nothing would do but he must give her a side saddle, one of those fancy

looking horse-killers such as they sold for twenty dollars. Joe bought

her a fancy bridle and another member of the party gave her a flaming

scarlet felt saddle cloth. All these to a poor girl who did not own a

horse. Horses were pretty cheap in those days, from $5 up. Frank bought

her a cream colored mare from a bystander for $20 and placing the saddle

and accoutrements on he requested her to mount and try the saddle.

Shenandoah had been buying dress goods at the instigation of Lani's

mother and when he came out and saw the beautiful girl mounted on the

prancing horse he swore she should never ride it home and commanded her

to dismount.

This revelation was too much for us. What; this clod of earth dare to

talk in this manner to our Lani? And using tones of authority too! This

was the last straw. Frank opened up on him with a volubility and a

vocabulary which could only have been acquired before the mast on an

American whaler.

Shenandoah dropped his armful of bundles and made a rush at him to

annihilate him. Frank had played football too much in college to be

badly terrified and when the Portuguese struck at him he lowered his

head and rushed his black opponent, taking him just in the short ribs

with his head, and Shenandoah was _hors de combat_ instanter. It was

sometime before he could take a breath, then had to be taken off to a

room, which he did not leave until we were ready to return to

Hoikaopuiaawalau.

Frank got a nice horse for himself and he and Lani enjoyed the Fourth of

July.

At that time there was a fashion among the native women of making their

own hats from rooster skins. A fine bird would be selected, no matter

what the price ($5 has been paid for a bird for that purpose). The skin

was taken off whole and while green put over a mold to dry. Then they

would line them and when rightly made one could almost imagine it was a

live rooster sitting on a nest. Frank got one of the best of these and

gave it to Lani and the next day as he and she rode on either side of

the team, for they drove us home, the sight of her was exceedingly

galling to Shenandoah who had to ride on the empty wagon, the cock

appearing to crow over him at every bounce of her horse.

However the fun was not out of us yet nor out of the bullock. They never

seemed to tire giving us our money's worth. When we had arrived at

Wailuku we turned them into a corral where there was plenty of food and

drink and they ought to have been satisfied. Not so however, for, about

midnight a man came to our lodgings and said our cattle had got loose

into the cane fields, and, tired as we were we all had to get out and

hunt them through the cane, and corral them once more.

We sailed across the plains easily enough but when we came to the region

of gulches and night and the rain had set in the anxiety of those on the

wagon for their safety was pathetic. We had some marvellous escapes but

finally arrived in camp in a half drowned condition.

A couple of days afterwards the charcoal burner came over and told us

that Leong Sing had been there during our absence, and says he, "there he

comes again." That evening he called on Lani and she flatly told him in

some expressive way that she wished no more of his attentions. He

retired to the Chinese camp and we saw him no more.

The following day the Chinaman came over and asked where Leong Sing was.

We said we did not know. Then said he, "he is dead for his hat is lying

beside the charcoal kiln and it looks as if he had fallen in and been

consumed." We went over to see and things did have that appearance, as

the roof had fallen in and the pit was a mass of flame. The Chinaman

must have taken the rejection of his suit very much to heart to have

destroyed himself by such a horrid route.

That same day Shenandoah rode off to Makawao on Lani's horse and

reported the death of Leong Sing and swore out a complaint charging

Frank Willoughby with the murder.

A constable came over and took Frank away and when the coroner's inquest

was held the jury returned a verdict: "died by the hands of some one

unknown to us." At the examination before the magistrate Shenandoah and

Joe Edwards both swore to having repeatedly heard Frank Willoughby

threaten to kill the Chinaman and the magistrate held Frank without bail

to be tried by the next Circuit Court at Lahaina. He was taken off over

the mountains by a policeman. Joe Edwards skipped out for fear he might

be also arrested, for his threats were as pronounced as Frank's.

When Frank and the guard got into Lahaina he sent for an old friend of

his father's who was practicing law there and he persuaded the Circuit

Judge to accept bail as there had been no body found and no cause for

the calling of a coroner's jury and that the magistrate merely acted on

the hearsay of a pair who were jealous of the prisoner.

Frank went home with Farwell and the latter advised him to return home

to New York saying that he had frequently written to him advising such a

course and his parents were exceedingly anxious about him. Frank refused

to skip his bail and determined to stand trial like a man.

Within two weeks the Chinaman, Leong Sing, came in with his uncle who

had gone to search into the matter and Frank was ordered discharged. The

Chinaman had felt so heartbroken that he had wandered away up the ravine

and climbed up on a ridge and kept on walking until he met a heavy

shower and as it is pretty cold up there he turned to go back.

Unfortunately he did not take the same ridge down, a thing likely enough

to occur, as he had walked so far as to have passed the heads of several

ravines, and keeping too much to the right had brought up the following

night at Halehaku, some six miles from his point of departure. The

natives took care of him and in a few days he was enabled to get a horse

and return to camp to the agreeable surprise of the rest of us.

Frank took Mr. Farwell's advice and went straight home to New York.

Years afterwards we were riding from Waihee to Lahaina by way of

Kahakuloa and arriving at the latter village we felt as if some fish and

poi would taste good. It was a dilapidated looking place and the

shanties were hardly improvements on pigsties, but we decided that it

was better to eat there than to risk going farther and finding none.

We stopped at the best looking shanty and were told they would prepare

us some _opihi_, a shell fish abundant on the rocks there, the sale of

which is about the only source of livelihood of the few inhabitants.

Imagine our surprise when we were called to eat to find that our hostess

was none other than Lani and that Shenandoah was our host and that their

eleven little black offsprings were the kids we saw perched on the

fence.

Lani was an old fagged out woman without any traces of the belle she had

been, and Shenandoah was blacker and uglier than ever. "Apples of

Sodom," said my friend, and we paid for our opihi and poi and departed."

J. W. GIRVIN.

Legend

of

Hiku i Kanahele

Above the long sloping hills of Kona where the coffee grows luxuriantly,

on the stately mountain of Hualalai, he lived, this Hiku I Kanahele.

That he existed there can be no doubt, for the Kamaainas will tell you

the most remarkable stories concerning him, which have been cherished

with all the old-time love of romance to the present matter-of-fact age,

handed down from generation to generation. They will tell you also that

his father Ku was a Demi-God and his mother Hina a Demi-Goddess, and

will eagerly show you a romantic relic of the past at the foot of the

mountain, the Ke Ana o Hina--Cave of Hina, and will point out to you on

the Kona coast, not far from Kailua, with its soft, dreamy warm

atmosphere and enchanting bay, the palace where Hiku and his bride

resided.

Ku and Hina had two children: Hiku, kane, and Kawelu, wahine, she being

many years his junior. Hiku, however, did not know of her existence, for

when a very little kaikamahine she was given to the care of the brave

Chief of Holualoa, who reared her as his own child.

Beautiful as the sunrise was Kawelu, with eyes as large, soft and brown

as the heart of a sunflower, tall, and graceful as the palms which

swayed in the murmuring breezes in her palace garden, with a disposition

sweet as the maile wreaths and ohia leis her maidens wove to adorn her

jet-black hair, or wind around her willowy shapely form.

Many were the young chiefs who sought her favors, but for all she had

only smiles of friendship, though at times, with the wanton coquetry

innate in the heart of every beautiful woman, she would smile archly and

invitingly upon some handsome Alii, then regard him with a saucy

indifference which made her doubly precious in his eyes. Agile as she

was beautiful, her equal could not be found throughout the Isle in

athletic games. Often, in the pastime of throwing the spear, had she

evaded half a dozen of these dangerous weapons cast at her at once,

catching some with her hands, warding off or eluding the others. None

could hurl the arrows so dextrously as she, nor ride so swiftly on the

holua down the steep hills, and few cared to leap from such lofty rocks

into the swollen streams; and she would think it a light task to swim

for miles upon the gently swelling waters of the blue ocean, saying with

a merry laugh that the dreaded Mano was her good friend. But the pastime

she loved best of all was surf riding, and so wondrously expert was she

in this exhilarating sport, and so beautiful did she appear standing

erect on her board on the crest of an incoming wave, breaking in snowy

foam all around her, so like a radiant Nymph or Goddess freshly risen

from the seething waters, that the onlookers would burst into thunderous

applause, calling her Kawelu the Beautiful, which was borne echoing up

the mountain for many miles; and it was there in his home on the

mountain top that Hiku heard these strange sounds wafted thither by the

vagrant winds. Often had he asked his mother what they meant, but always

evasive were her answers, for well she knew, with her wonderful power of

divining the future, what the result would be if he should know. But at

last, so persistent were his queries, she told him the sounds he heard

were the voices of the people, applauding the most lovely wahine in all

the world, praising her beauty and skill as she rode on the waves, and

that this beautiful maiden was his own sister. Then a great warm desire

filled his breast, and he said: "I must go to her; I must see this

charming sister of mine, and ride with her on the waves." With commands

and entreaties Hina endeavored to detain him, but to no purpose. Then

she told him they would fall in love with each other, and that would

bring great pilikia, for it was considered then a proper thing for the

chiefs to make love to and marry their own sisters.

The next day Hiku departed for the coast with a surf board made by his

father. Being descended from the Gods he had all their innate beauty of

form and cleverness; and the manner in which he rode the waves called

forth the plaudits of the assembled crowd again and again.

Kawelu, who at this time was indolently lying on the royal mats in the

palace, her shapely form being lomilomied by her attentive maids,

inquired why the people applauded so heartily, and on being told there

had come a stranger to the shore as strong and graceful and athletic as

a God, and that he was riding her favorite nalu, which were tabu to

those not of Royal birth, hastily encircled her slender waist with her

pa'u, and with the Leipalaoa around her neck (an ivory insignia of

royalty enclosed in human hair), hurried to the beach, and there upon

the white gleaming crests of her own nalu saw the most handsome youth

her liquid eyes smiled upon with a malo around his loins, borne swiftly

towards her, landing almost at her feet. Their eyes met, and both stood

still as though transfixed by some delightful sensation, then with a

sudden joyous impulse she took the Leipalaoa from her bosom and threw it

around his neck, expressing a desire for him, it being a privilege,

graciously accorded her royal station, to ask whom she pleased to be her

lover. Hiku with all the fervor of the poetical nature returned her

impromptu affection, for she appeared to him like one of his beautiful

ancestors, who were Gods and Goddesses, of whom Ku and Hina had told him

marvellous stories in his boyhood.

The happy lovers repaired to the Chief, the foster father of Kawelu, and

when he learned of Hiku's exalted station readily gave consent to their

union.

Several months sped swiftly by, never had time tripped along so merrily,

his jaunty footsteps being hastened by hilarious luaus where hulas were

sung and danced; and throughout the happy period the two lovers nestled

together like a pair of cooing doves, never out of each other's

presence. None amongst the hundreds of guests could dance the hulas with

such ease and grace, nor sing so harmoniously; and when linked arm in

arm as they rode on their surf boards on the hissing breakers, their

handsome forms erect and stately, they seemed to the wondering gazers

like the offspring of the Gods from some mystic realm beyond the waste

of waters surrounding their tranquil isle or from one of the millions of

moving worlds that shone above at night, which ever filled them with awe

and amazement.

But there comes a time in the sweetest moments of our lives when the

causes which induced them cease to operate, when Love itself grows tired

of loving. Hiku had never before been so long away from his parents, and

having drank to satiety of the love of his graceful Kawelu, a strong

yearning filled his heart to see his mother Hina, a yearning which

increased daily, till at length he told his affectionate bride that he

must leave her for awhile. With tears and entreaties she implored him to

stay, fearing this was a ruse to abandon her, that he no longer wished

her caresses; but he became sullen and obstinate, and one day at sunrise

he stealthily left the couch of his sweet young wife, whose eyes were

softly closed in blissful slumber.

Kawelu awoke; Hiku was gone, and whither? Perhaps forever? These were

the thoughts which swiftly filled her mind, and caused her eyes to weep

rivers of tears. Then she wildly prayed to the Gods to bring him back to

her aching bosom, and finding no response, set out alone along the

mountain trail towards his home, where she surmised he was journeying.

But Hiku with his natural intuition knew of her design, and calling to

his aid the clouds he bade them intercept her path, and the rain he bade

fall to make slippery the ground for her feet, and the branches of the

trees and the ferns and vines to detain her. Despite these obstacles,

with all Love's fond foolishness, Kawelu followed her recreant lover for

many hours, to sink at last exhausted on the cold wet earth, her soft

skin torn by the thorny bushes and branches of the ohias, and her long

silken hair tossed wildly around her form where the ieie vine had

clutched it as she passed. Salt tears flowed from her eyes; her rosy

morning dream of Love had vanished, and the black despair of night had

taken its place. Calling loudly in the unbroken silence of the forest

for her lover, she chanted the following lines pathetically:

Pii ana Hiku i ke kualono,

Ka lala e kau kolo ana;

I keekeehiia e ka ua,

Helelei ka pua ilalo,

E Hiku hoi e,

Hoi mai kaua e!

Which roughly translated are as follows:

Hiku has gone up the mountain,

Where the long winding branches are creeping,

And the blossoms fall thickly around

Where the rain on the branches is weeping:

Oh Hiku! come back to me!

The radiant tropic morning has dawned, the sun has kissed the raindrops

from the faces of the flowers, but on the sweet gentle face of Kawelu

the raindrops of her heart still fall unceasingly! Vainly her father

tries to soothe her grief, for he had found her weeping and shivering on

the lonely mountain side; vainly her maids cluster around with soft

words of condolence. At length she sleeps, and they leave her, praying

to the Gods to take away this great sorrow, to make her again the warm

ray of sunshine, gladdening all with which it came in contact. When they

returned Kawelu was dead! Grieved beyond endurance by her tragic loss

she sought release in Death for this maddening pain her heart could

never hold, fastening with her own gentle fingers around her smooth

round throat the death-inducing cord!

Hiku had greeted his mother Hina with a kiss, but she bent upon him

reproachful eyes, and said "My son, you have killed your sister; already

she lies dead through loss of you! You must now go and try to undo the

great wrong you have committed." Then Hiku in despair rushed down the

mountain accompanied by Ku, and reaching the palace of his beautiful

Kawelu found his mother's words to be true, and with loud manifestations

of grief had her body placed in a dark cool room which was tabu to all.

By his superior intuition Ku discerned Kawelu's soul had gone to Aina

Milu, a region of pleasure in the underwood, a place where the spirits

of those who break Nature's laws go at death, where no sun ever shines.

The entrance to this realm of shades he found to be in the fertile

valley of Waipio, and thither he and the now distracted Hiku swiftly

sped, gathering as they went the Kowali vine, weaving of it a stout

rope. On the side of the valley they discovered a large hole (pointed

out by the natives to the present day) which Ku said was the entrance to

this darksome world of festive spirits. Hiku unwound his huge coil of

rope with the delicate blue and white Kowali flowers entwined in its

strands, and prepared to descend into the dark pit. Previous to doing

so, however, he provided himself with an empty cocoanut shell, and

rubbed his body all over with some rotten kukui nut oil, which emitted a

most offensive odor, and with a kukui nut for a light, whilst Ku firmly

held the rope, he descended into the blackness.

On reaching the bottom he found himself in a gloomy region amidst thorny

trees without leaves and fruit, dry and barren, with a close heavy

stifling atmosphere, whose odor excited the senses and produced an

intense thirst. Countless numbers of spirits were gathered there, all

active and restless, engaged in the very games they were fond of on

earth. A great luau was being prepared, where thousands of phantom pigs

and chickens were cooking in fires that gave no light. The Demon King

Milu was going that night to marry a beautiful fresh young soul who had

just arrived in his weird realm; and looking towards the throne of the

king Hiku in dismay saw she was none other than his own lost bride.

Much excitement was created by the presence of Hiku, but he smelled so

badly of the rotten kukui nuts that the spirits did not care to approach

very closely, designing him "Ke akua pilau,"--the bad smelling ghost.

The merry game of Kilu was going on at the time, and in a few moments

his presence was forgotten in its absorbing delights. The game is one of

love, a wahine taking in her hand a small ball, with which she endeavors

to strike the kanaka she desires, chanting at the same time a verse of a

song, and if successful he becomes her immediate lover.

Kawelu was still seated on the elevated throne, holding in her dainty

fingers the little ball which was the promoter of this intense

merriment. Her mobile lips were chanting a cooing refrain, one which she

and Hiku together had composed on earth in the glad days of their brief

wedded life. In the midst of it she stopped, and he took up the chant,

all the others remaining silent, as the song was unknown to them.

Instantly she called in a tremulous voice, "Who is this that sings;" as

though some forgotten memory had wakened in her soul. No one spoke; then

she left her place and went amongst the throng, looking into each face

until she came to Hiku, who was crouching low, when she stopped, but

finding in him a bad-smelling ghost she returned and recommenced the

chant. Again she paused a moment when half through, and once more Hiku

took up the refrain. Kawelu was intensely agitated; this time she

observed it was the bad-smelling spirit who chanted the remainder of her

melody, and again approached him, but he during this time had made a

swing of his long rope and was swiftly swinging backwards and forwards,

to the delight of the clustering spirits who had never seen anything of

the kind before. "How smart the bad-smelling ghost is," they said,

whilst Kawelu clapped her hands delightedly at the performance,

expressing a desire to get on the swing; but Hiku, disguising his voice,

said "this is a very difficult thing to learn; you might injure yourself

seriously if you tried it without my help; if you sit in my lap I will

swing you, then afterwards you can swing by yourself." But the swinging

spirit smelled so strongly she would not accept his invitation until

they had placed a long wrapper around him, when she did as he suggested.

Higher and higher Hiku sent the swing; with all the strength of his

nervy, muscular, frame he propelled it back and forth, holding Kawelu

close to his heart the while, which was beating rapidly with trembling

hopes. Suddenly he pulled on the rope, the signal agreed on with his

father to haul him up, and immediately, still moving in long tremendous

sweeps, the swing rose high in the air, higher and higher each instant,

amidst the alarmed shouts of the subjects of Milu, whose shrill cries

echoed gruesomely along the avenues of foliageless trees, "He is

stealing the King's wahine, he is stealing the King's wahine." Milu

leaped madly forward to snatch her from his arms, but slipped on the

Kilu ball, which lay on the ground, he fell heavily forward, and was

trampled under the feet of his excited minions, and swift as were their

movements, the marvellous strength of Ku, hauling up the swing, was more

availing, for it shot up the black shaft with lightning rapidity, the

startled Kawelu struggling wildly to escape, Hiku clasping her tightly

to his breast, holding her easily in his strong grasp, chanting some

mystic words whereby she became smaller and smaller, until he held her

in the hollow of his hand, when he forced her into the empty cocoanut

shell, and holding his fingers firmly over the hole safely returned to

earth, glad to escape from the gloom of this underworld of unwholesome

mirth and ceaseless revelry. Quickly they turned their faces towards

Hualalai, looking in the distance like a dark ominous shadow, and before

many hours their anxious feet echoed in the chamber where lay the mute

body of Kawelu, still under strict tabu, no dog having barked in the

vicinity of its sacred precincts, nor foot of man passed by the spot,

since their departure.

The spirit leaves the body through the eyes, through the little holes in

the corners of the eyes nearest the nose, when Death calls it. This Ku

and Hiku knew, but they also knew that the spirit cannot return in the

same manner, that it must find its way, if ever it returns, into its

earthly tenement of flesh and blood through the hollow in the sole of

the foot. Placing the cocoanut there, and removing his finger from the

hole, Hiku commanded the spirit of his beloved Kawelu to enter her body,

lying there so pathetically cold and still that the tears sprang to his

eyes as he gazed. The spirit went as far as the knee, when it returned;

again he commanded it to enter, and this time it went to the hip, but

could go no further. Once again he commanded the spirit to seek an

entrance, and with fluttering heart and motionless limbs awaited the

outcome of those terribly anxious moments, for well he knew how many

were the chances of the soul being lost in the intricate channels of the

body, then to his unbounded joy he perceived a slight pulsing movement

of the eyelids, then a gradual unveiling of her liquid dark-brown orbs,

as she murmured, "Why did you wake me; I had so pleasant a sleep; why

did you not let me rest;" but when she felt the warm-impassioned kisses

of her lover on her cold lips, and heard his voice sounding in her ears

like rare music she vaguely remembered having heard before under sweet

conditions, breathing protestations of affection and love, and when his

warm tears of joyous thankfulness fell on her smooth velvetry cheek, she

awoke to a full realization of the tranquil bliss of love, of the

delicious unspeakable harmony poets vainly endeavor to describe,

remembering vividly the weird events of the past few days, and her arms

twined lovingly around the form of her own Hiku, on whose trembling

bosom she softly nestled.

Centuries have passed; Hiku and Kawelu no longer exist on this plane of

action, but whilst the Hawaiian race endures will live the story of

their love, and the spectral past with its warriors and gods, and its

warm love and worship and song and story will ever be brilliantly

reflected in their hearts. The lovers lived to a mellow old age, ever

faithful to each other, blessed with a numerous offspring, from whom the

kings of Hawaii claimed descent. And the old kamaainas will earnestly

tell you that every bit of this romantic story is absolutely true.

MAURICIO.

Story

of a

Brave Woman

Three riders came out of the woods, and, turning into the road leading

from Napoopoo to the uplands, slowly began the ascent. As they went up,

the long plains, reaching from the forest covered heights of Mauna Loa

to the ocean, seemed to grow broader, and the sea rose higher, till the

far away horizon almost touched the sinking sun. Lanes of glassy water

stretched from the shore into illimitable distance. A ship lying

motionless looked as if hanging in mid-air. Under the cliff the delicate

lines of cocoanut and palm trees were silhouetted against the ocean

mirror. Far to the south ran the black and frowning coast, relieved here

and there by white lines of foam creeping lazily in from the ocean, only

to look darker as the surf melted from sight. On the plain, little

clusters of trees, or a house, or a thin curl of smoke, indicated the

presence of men: and back of all rose the forest, vast, dim and

mysterious, stretching away for miles till lost in the clouds resting

softly on the bosom of the mountain.

Such a scene could not fail to arrest attention, and, though our riders

were tired, they reined in their horses to enjoy its quiet beauty.

"What a wonderful scene! I have been through Europe, feasted my eyes on

the Alps, and have seen the finest that America can produce, but I never

saw its equal," said the tourist.

"It looks as if such a picture might be the theatre of thrilling romance

and history" said the Coffee Planter. "Is it not here that Captain Cook

was killed? And I think I have heard that a famous battle was fought

somewhere near: the last struggle of the past against advancing

Christianity."

"Yes," replied the Native, slowly, with a lingering look in his eyes, as

he turned from the inspiring view to his companions. "Yes, this is all

historic ground. Over there under the setting sun, at Kuamoo, was fought

the battle of Kekuaokalani, and there a heroic woman braved and met

death with her husband, a rebel chief. On these plains below and on

yonder heights there have been many thrilling scenes in Hawaii's

history. But all of the romance is not in the past. Do you see those

houses away down the coast, this side of the high lands of Honokua? See

how they glow in the setting sun-light. That is Hookena, and only a few

years ago it witnessed the last act in a simple drama, which can hardly

be excelled in all the tales of heroism in the past. It was told me in

part by the woman who was or is the heroine, for she yet lives. And I

looked at her in wonder, because she was so unconscious of it all."

"Let us hear the story," said the Planter. "We will sit on that high

point and watch this glorious scene fade into moonlight, while we rest

and listen." They dismounted and stepped from the road to a projecting

rock and, throwing themselves on the grass where none of the wonderful

vision could be missed, listened. The Native looked a little embarrassed

at his sudden transformation from guide to story-teller, but accepted

the position and began.

"Many years ago a native family lived a few miles above Hookena, on land

which had been occupied by their ancestors for generations, for they

belonged to the race of chiefs. The house was hidden from the road, in

the midst of a grove of orange, bread-fruit, mango, banana and other

trees. It is on storied ground, for many stirring events in the past

history of Hawaii had occurred here. A son and three daughters were the

children. They received more than the usual care and attention given to

Hawaiian children, and had grown to man and womanhood serious and

reflective. The young man, Keawe, was filled with a desire to do

something noble for his dying race. Though he had travelled over the

Islands and had been well received everywhere, yet he was heart-free,

and said he would never marry, but wait untrammelled till his time for

action should come. With eagerness he watched political developments at

the capital. His heart beat wildly when the last Kamehameha died, and

Kalakaua was elected King. Such a method of King-making did not suit his

chivalric ideas. The records of personal prowess, of brave chiefs and

noble women were his delight. He mourned that such records belonged to

the well nigh forgotten past. His ambition was not ignoble. He wanted

the Hawaiians to be worthy of the best civilization, to maintain a

Hawaiian kingdom, because that the native was equal to it. While he

mourned, he condemned the frequent failures, under which the native was

forfeiting the confidence of his white friends. He was one of the

overwhelming majority who regarded Kalakaua's accession as unworthy, and

as the beginning of the end of Hawaiian supremacy.

One day, while fishing at the beach where he was doing more dreaming

than fishing; sometimes idly watching a laughing company of girls who

were bathing and surf-riding; he was startled by a cry of terror.

Springing to his feet, he saw that one of the girls was desperately

struggling to swim ashore, where her affrighted companions were running

wildly about crying for help. Looking toward the sea he saw a large fin

on the surface rapidly following the swimmer. Accustomed to every

athletic sport; perfectly at home in the water; always cool and self

possessed, he saw, that to overtake her, the shark must pass a low rocky

headland, and in an instant he was there with a long knife in his hand.

He remembered seeing the face of the girl as she struggled desperately

to escape. There was a single terrified glance, but he saw a beautiful

woman, with a face indicating a higher type than usual. There was no

time for admiration. The shark was turning and, with a horrid open

mouth, was about to rush upon its victim. He gave a loud shout, jumped

full upon the huge beast, and in an instant had plunged his knife to the

hilt again and again into its body. Then he was hurled into the seething

brine, as the frightened animal with frantic plunges rushed seaward.

Coming to the surface and looking about he saw the body of the girl near

by. He thought her dead. She was indeed stunned and hurt, for the shark

gave her a fearful blow in turning. It was the work of only a minute to

drag her out. There for a moment he saw the full measure of her youth

and beauty, but did not wait for returning consciousness. Seeing that

she was recovering he walked swiftly away.

But he was wounded, and, denounce and reproach himself as he would, the

sweet face ever and anon came before his eyes, and sent the blood

tingling and dancing through his veins. He tried to crush out the image,

and determined to enter into active life; to cease dreaming, and begin

then and at once to accomplish his high aims.

The political campaign, culminating in the election of 1886, had

commenced. Kalakaua had announced the aim of his reign: to increase and

develope the Hawaiian people. "Hawaii for the Hawaiians" made an

inspiring war cry. Keawe entered with energy and hope into the conflict.

Yet it troubled him, and it seemed as if there was something wrong in

opposing the noble Pilipo, who had so long faithfully represented the

people of Kona in the National Legislature. But Kalakaua declared that

Pilipo must be replaced by another man, and was himself coming to assist

in the conflict. With the ancient faith and confidence in the chief,

Keawe put aside his doubts and worked day and night for the success of

the holy cause. It was holy to him and as the day of election drew near,

his belief grew stronger, that at last a deliverer had come and Hawaii

was to be redeemed. Already he saw, in a bright future, a government by

Hawaiians with full friendship for all nations, and cordial relations

with those who had helped his people into the best light of

civilization. The King came, and with him a troop of palace guards from

Honolulu. When all of these were, by the royal will, duly registered as

voters, and means, other than argument and persuasion, were used to help

on the good cause, a chilly sense of something wrong cooled Keawe's

ardor. He met the King and was cordially received. His heart bounded

with pleasure at words of praise for his work. An invitation to a feast

and dance was accepted, and only when he went and saw, did he realize

the mockery and sham behind the fine words. Heart sick, dizzy with a

sore disappointment, early the next morning, when all were sleeping, he

mounted his horse and stole away, alone. The cold mountain air relieved

the pain in his head, but his heart was weary and the future looked

dark. He saw that if there was momentary triumph, all the sooner

disaster must come; and he longed to know how to avert the danger. He

grew weary thinking and trying to hope, and his thoughts went to other

things. Again he was in the water, struggling to save her life. Again

the sweet face appeared before him, so fair and gentle. The sun was hot

now; he had ridden for hours, and, alighting, threw himself on the grass

and looked up through the leafy bower at the bright sky. Perhaps he

slept; at any rate he dreamed that a sweet voice was singing "Aloha oe."

He sat up and listened. It was not a dream, and a strong desire to see

the face of the singer possessed him. The voice drew nearer, then she

passed near by carrying a pitcher, and went to a spring. It was the girl

he had saved from the shark! She wore a loose flowing gown of white, and

a maile branch twisted about her head hardly confined the silky hair

which floated down her back. A coral pin held the gown at her neck.

Short sleeves only partly hid her graceful and shapely arms.

Keawe arose and stood watching. His heart beat tumultuously. No other

woman had so strongly moved him, and now he would speak and not run

again. A movement startled her, and rising with the dripping pitcher in

her hand, she turned and saw him. That she knew him was instantly

evident; but her eyes modestly dropped and she moved as if to go. But he

was in the path, and, seeing that, she hesitated and turned to go

through the woods, but could not and stood again, looking at her feet

which just peeped from below the gown. Keawe stepped towards her and

said, "Do you remember the shark?" "Yes, I know you," she replied. Her

eyes said more and he saw it again. As he stepped nearer she said, "Why

did you not let me thank you? I thought you might come." It flashed

through his mind that he had wasted two months pursuing an ignis fatuus,

only to have nothing but bitterness at the end, when it might have been

----! "I was afraid to come," he replied. "I wanted to work for Hawaii

and our people." "Yes, I know," she said. "You have spoken bravely. All

Kona trusts in your words!" "Did you believe them?" he quickly asked.

"Do you believe in _me_?" A look was her reply. "Will you believe in me

if I say that I have done with 'Hawaii for the Hawaiians', under such

leadership?" "I will always believe in you. But come, you are tired. My

father will be glad to meet you," she said quickly. "May I drink?" he

said, and held out his hand. She gave him the pitcher, which he held and

looked at the pretty figure standing near the spring. "You are Rebecca

at the well." "And are you Abraham's servant?" "No, I am Isaac himself,"

he replied and tried to take her hand. "Oh! but Isaac did not meet

Rebecca at the well!" And, laughing merrily, she ran down the path

towards her home. He followed but though he wanted, the opportunity for

other words did not come; she was so coy.

It was not the only visit. Very often did business calls take him along

that lovely mountain road and there was always a welcome at the home of

Lilia. He told her of his love, and in April they were married.

They built a little cottage which nestled snugly in a quiet valley on

the mountain side, and there they passed a few months of perfect

happiness. All loved them. He was regarded as the wise adviser and

friend of the country-side. She became the gentle sister of those who

were ill, or suffering or wayward, and their home was the center of an

influence which helped and lifted.

But a shadow came into their lives. He grew silent, reserved, almost

afraid of his beautiful Lilia. She watched with eager anxiety and

entreated his confidence, but his lips were sealed. Only his tremulous

voice and shaking hand betrayed suffering. Sometimes she fancied that

his hands grew palsied and his bright eye was dim, but repelled the

fancy with terror. One day he came home with such a look that her heart

stood still, and words died upon her lips. He gazed into her eyes with

passionate agony and, taking her hands, said, "Will you still believe in

me if I say we must part; that I must leave you and go away, and you

must stay here and live out your life--your precious life, so dear to

me--all, all alone?" Then her courage came, and she said, "No, I will

never leave you. You are mine. I must go too, wherever you go!" "But,"

said he, "I have seen the examining surgeon to-day, and he says that I

must go by the next trip of the steamer to Honolulu." And then the full

measure of her woe dawned upon the stricken wife. With unutterable

anguish she threw her arms about his body and clasped him tightly to her

breast. "I was allowed to come here and prepare to go, and to bid a last

farewell to all I hold so dear. I shall never see these trees, the

flowers, this house, my friends, nor you, my precious wife, again." But

her face had grown hard and stern, and, relaxing her hold, she told her

plan. It was to take him into a far off deep recess in the woods. There

was up the mountain side a deep crater, overgrown with trees, ferns,

vines and a wild luxuriance of growth, which kindly nature had draped so

softly that its hideousness was lost. It was considered inaccessible,

and only the family knew of an ancient lava cavern which entered its

deepest recess. One of several mouths of the cavern was near the house.

"But the law says that I must go," he urged. "There is no law higher than

my love for you," and he yielded to her imperious urgency. Quickly and

stealthily she carried there such articles as the simplest life might

require, and a few days later, when the officers of the law came, Keawe

was not to be found and no one knew where they had gone.

With untiring love the wife watched and aided her husband. Together they

built a little bower out of view from the upper edges of the crater,

under the spreading branches of a kukui tree. A little pool, fed by the

constant drip from the over-hanging wall, supplied them with pure water.

Near at hand, under a mass of ferns, maile and ieie, was the mouth of

the cavern. She grew familiar with its turns and windings, till she

almost dared to brave its black recesses without a torch. In one of its

dry and sheltered windings, she stored articles of food and clothing,

thinking that sometime a watch might be stationed at the home on the

hill-side, and she could not venture out. But days melted into weeks;

weeks became months: two years passed, and their hiding place was not

discovered. No one came, though Keawe often longed to see the faces of

friends. But they were afraid to venture near and the cavern echoed only

to her feet, and the silence of the deep pit was only broken by their

voices and the music of birds. At times, a sudden gust rushed down the

steep sides and every tree waved and bowed its head, and the leaves of

the banana rustled and quivered. The sun-light only touched the bottom

in summer and then for a few minutes only. But it was not gloomy, the

glorious sky was always there and the brilliant light, and bloom and

fragrance filled the air. No, it was not always bright, sometimes

tempests whirled far over their heads; trees in the world above tossed

their branches over the abyss, leaves and twigs fell gently, or

branches, and once, a tree, were hurled down with deafening noise. The

roar of thunder, and vast sheets and torrents of rain filled the pit.

Once, in a still night, they were startled and terrified by a sudden

boom far below their feet and the earth shook, stones rattled down the

rocky sides of the abyss, and they remembered the dread power of the

volcano. "It is Pele! she is angry with us!" cried Lilia. "No," replied

her husband, "we have thrown ourselves into the protecting bosom of the

Goddess! We are safe in her arms." They were safe from human sight and

interference, and Lilia's soul feasted in the presence of him she loved.

She poured out upon him such a wealth of devotion, that a miser might

have envied. But alas, though safe from man, he was under the fell power

of disease, and slowly yielded. Day after day he grew weaker and less

able to help himself, until the fond wife performed the most menial

tasks. But they were not menial to her. Every thing for him was a glory

and a joy.

"I cannot last long," he said one day, "and I want you to have my lands.

Get your mother's young husband, the lawyer, to come, that it may be

settled." He came, and, looking wonderingly about, prepared a deed which

he said would accomplish the object. Keawe was not satisfied. "It sounds

wrong--why should the name of your wife appear?" he asked. "She is your

wife's mother," was the reply, "and you cannot convey to your wife

direct. When this deed is recorded my wife can then convey to your wife.

You must hurry or it will be too late," said the coming man. With some

doubt still, but trusting to his friend's good faith, knowing he was

alone cut off from all the world, Keawe signed, and the deed was taken

away. Patiently they waited for weeks to finish the business, "and

then," said Keawe, "you will have a home." But the lawyer did not come,

and evaded Lilia's eager questions.

One day when returning to the cavern, her heart stood still as she saw

slowly emerging from its mouth, several police officers, bearing on a

rough litter the helpless form of her beloved Keawe. At a glance she saw

the whole base deception. Her step-father had betrayed their secret

hiding place, and the end had come! With a frantic wail of despair, she

flung herself at their feet and begged and implored. But her entreaties

were vain, and the sick man was taken to Hookena where the steamer was

waiting. At the landing, as the boat drew near the shore, she learned

that he was to go alone and then her grief knew no bounds. As he was put

on board and turned imploring eyes on her, she made a desperate attempt

to go too, and in her struggle her clothing was almost torn away. The

officers of the law thought they were doing their duty, but their eyes

were full of pity. "Keawe! Oh Keawe, my beloved husband!" she cried,

"let me go with you!" But no answer came. The steamer turned her head

towards the sea, and he was gone. She fell to the earth, and lay with

buried face for many minutes. It seemed to her that nothing was left and

bitterly she mourned her loss. But suddenly starting, she asked eagerly

for a horse, which was furnished at once by a sympathetic friend.

Mounting, she went without stopping for rest or food until, on the

second day, Kawaihae was reached. Soon a steamer came, and she went to

Honolulu, only to hear on landing that Keawe had died on the trip down.

Giving way to despair, she dejected sought the house of an aunt, where

she was kindly received, and there she remained for several months."

"And that is the story," said the Native.

"It is rather sad, but she was a heroine sure enough," said the Planter.

The pale light of the crescent moon served only to render the landscape

shadowy. All nature rested: An owl fluttered slowly by and a soft murmur

from far below told that the restless sea alone moved. There was no

other sound. The riders mounted and silently stole away.

THE NATIVE.

Transcriber's note:

The transcriber has corrected typographical errors from the original

book and listed them here.

On page 15, "wont" changed to "won't."

On page 30, "statue" changed to "stature."

On page 33, "waived" changed to "waved."

On page 34, "mightest" changed to "mightiest."

On page 36, "then" changed to "them."

On page 48, "wesminster" changed to "Westminster."

On page 73, "parisitic" changed to "parasitic."

On page 73, "convolvulous" changed to "convolvulus."

On page 94, "gentlefingers" changed to "gentle fingers."

On page 97, "grief" changed to "brief."

On page 100, "unyholesome" changed to "unwholesome."

On page 102, "velvetry" changed to "velvety."

On page 121, a quotation mark was added ("It sounds wrong--why should

the name of your wife appear?")