“See man from Nature rising slow to Art.”—POPE.
Mauna Kea, the highest mountain of Hawaii, occupies the northern portion
of the island. In some places it descends in grassy slopes, sufficiently
gentle to form plains, dotted here and there with the many armed pandanus
and the thickly leaved kukui trees. From the resinous nuts of the latter
the natives obtained their torches, while its rich foliage and grand
proportions made it equally valuable for timber or shade.
At the distance of some twenty miles from the bay where the caravel was
wrecked, there was a level and extensive plain fringed with forests of
the above named trees, and backed by the snow-topped mountains. The
front afforded a wide-spread view of the ocean, the breezes from which,
added to an elevation of several thousand feet, gave it a climate much
cooler and more bracing than that of the coast. On this account, and
from its natural beauties, it had from time immemorial been used by
the Hawaiians as a spot on which to celebrate public games or sacred
festivals. Its verdant and carefully irrigated soil afforded food for the
numerous priests who belonged to the different “heiaus” or temples to
be seen within its limits. These were built of basaltic stones, some of
which were of great size, and nicely adjusted together without cement,
according to their natural fractures. Within the walls, which were
massive and high, were the houses of the priests and the shrines where
were deposited the most sacred images. Each chief of importance had his
family temple, around which had grown up villages, to accommodate himself
and retainers in their periodical visits to this upland region.
[Illustration]
For a month previous to the wreck, many thousands of the islanders had
been gathered under their chiefs to engage in their annual athletic
games. Their principal object was, however, to celebrate the festival
of Lono. Now Lono was one of those mythic beings so common in America
and Polynesia, who in ages long gone by, after having done many notable
things for the benefit of their fellow men, disappear like Moses in some
inexplicable manner, leaving behind them a memory always green, and a
sort of implied promise to return with greater benefits in store. Indeed,
heroes of this character appear amid much traditionary fog, in the youth
of almost all nations. In this instance, Lono had killed his wife in a
fit of jealousy, instigated by a Hawaiian Iago out of malice equal to
the Venetian’s. Love’s reaction and contrition drove him frantic. After
founding games in honor of his victim, he put out to sea in an oddly
shaped canoe,—so the tradition runs,—promising to return some future day
with many good things to enhance his welcome. Whether it was from love to
him, or from faith in the expected increase of comforts and riches, that
they so venerated his memory, I am at this day unable to say, but certain
it is that a more popular god did not exist in Hawaii. His festival was
therefore celebrated with peculiar unction.
On this occasion it had been honored with unusual solemnity, on account
of the presence of the most powerful and best beloved chief of this
island, whose territory embraced the fertile bay where the caravel went
ashore.
It was the custom on the most sacred festivals to enforce perfect silence
from man and beast during certain rites. While the festival lasted, peace
was universal, property respected, and under the solemn influence of the
magic “tabu,” human law and police seemed unnecessary; for there was
implied in this simple word, if but its spirit were infringed, all the
awful judgments, both temporal and supernatural, that the imagination
could conceive, and even more, for the very uncertainty of the fate
which was to attend its violation, added ten-fold force to its terrors.
The simple symbol, therefore, which denoted the application of the tabu
to any object, carried with it a power such as no civilized code ever
exercised, and which the tortures of the Inquisition failed to establish.
The word tabu, as applied to religious matters, was a ritual in itself.
Hence when the high-priest set apart a certain time as tabu to Lono, the
entire population knew what ceremonies were to be performed, and what
was expected of each of them. During the present holidays it had been
specially enjoined that the valley in which Kiana, a descendant of Lono
and the supreme chief of more than half of Hawaii, resided, should be
tabu from man and all domestic animals. For one month, profound silence
was to rest upon it. Consequently, the inhabitants left for the uplands,
taking with them every animal and fowl which they owned. It was owing
to this tabu that Alvirez, when he explored the valley, met with such
complete stillness amid all the outward signs of active life.
The very day, therefore, that Alvirez had so freely taken possession
of the chief’s own quarters, Kiana with his people were on their march
homeward. This chief, as is the aristocracy in general of Hawaii, was
of commanding stature, some six feet six inches in height, finely
proportioned, with round elastic limbs, not over muscular or too sinewy,
like the North American Indian, but full, with a soft smooth skin and
a bright olive complexion, which was not so dark, but that the blood
at times deepened the color thereon. His face was strikingly handsome,
being, like his body, of that happy medium between womanly softness and
the more rugged development of manly strength, which indicates a well
harmonized physical structure. In repose, one feared to see him move,
lest the beauty of outline would be destroyed; but when in action,
with his muscles quivering with a hidden fire, his dark eyes flashing
light, the full nostril of his race and rich sensual lip expanded
with excitement, there was about him much that recalled the Apollo,
particularly in the light step and eager haughty expression. His strength
was prodigious. He had been known in battle, having broken his javelin,
to seize an enemy by the leg and neck, and break his spine by a blow
across his knees. Fierce he undoubtedly was to his foes, but there were
in all his actions a pervading manliness and generosity, joined to a
winning demeanor, which stamped him as one of nature’s gentlemen. No
rival of his tribe disputed his authority, because all felt safer and
better under his rule. By moral influence, rather than by force, all the
other chiefs of this portion of Hawaii looked to him as their leader
and umpire; so that without any of the dubious treaties and forms of a
confederated government, they had all the advantages of one, while each
remained free within his own territorial confines.
By nature humane, Kiana had infused into their general policy and
domestic life a more liberal spirit towards inferiors, and a less
servile feeling towards the priesthood. He held the latter, in general,
in small esteem, perceiving how much they were disposed to corrupt the
simplest power of nature into a hideous mythology, based upon fear and
superstition, to the intent to enrich themselves at the expense of the
people. As he also inherited the office of high-priest, his influence
was the more effective, inasmuch as he set the example of neglecting all
the requirements of their pagan ritual which were cruel or oppressive,
while the games and festivals, which tended to develop their physical
powers and give them amusements, or to lighten their general labors, were
sedulously cared for. His people were therefore happy and prosperous,
and, at the date of this tale, exhibited an agreeable picture of a race
blessed with a salubrious climate, a soil ample for all their simple
wants, living almost patriarchally under a beloved chief, whose more
intelligent mind, by example rather than argument, had influenced them to
a form of idolatry which in its offerings of only fruits of the earth, to
its symbolized phenomena or the images of departed men once venerated for
their moral worth, in some degree connected their souls through refining
influences with the Great Maker.
In closing the festival, the procession was formed with great state and
solemnity, preparatory to its final departure from the sacred plain.
First came a thousand men in regular files, armed with swords of sharks’
teeth and slings. Each had a laurel wreath on his head, and a tapa mantle
of bright red thrown loosely over his shoulders. This corps led the way
to the noise of rude drums and other barbarous music. Behind them marched
a more numerous body in detached companies, armed with javelins and
spears, and a species of wooden mace, which, dexterously used, becomes
a formidable weapon. In addition, each man carried a dagger of the same
material, from sixteen inches to two feet long. All wore helmets of
wicker work, shaped like the Grecian casque and covered with various
colored feathers. These helmets in connection with their bright war
cloaks, gave to the whole array a classical look not unworthy of the
heroic days of Greece. The appearance of the men was martial, and their
step firm and regular.
In the centre of their array there was a selected corps of one hundred
young chiefs, armed with still better weapons. Their costume was also
much richer than that of the common men. They wore scarlet feather cloaks
and helmets. Conspicuous amid them, borne upon a litter hung about with
crimson drapery, sat Kiana. His helmet was surmounted by a graceful crest
from which lightly floated a plume taken from the long and beautiful
feathers of the tropic bird. Both the helmet and his war cloak were made
of brilliant yellow feathers, so small and delicate as to appear like
scales of gold. These two articles were the richest treasures in the
regalia of Hawaii. The birds from which the feathers are obtained,—one
only from under each wing,—are found solely in the most inaccessible
parts of the mountains and ensnared with great difficulty. Nearly one
hundred and fifty years, or nine generations of Kiana’s ancestors had
been occupied in collecting a sufficient number to make this truly regal
helmet and cloak. This was the first occasion he had had to display them.
He bore himself in consequence even more royally than ever before; for
savage though he was, the pride of ancestry and the trappings of power
warmed his blood as fully as if he had been a civilized ruler.
Immediately behind him was borne a colossal image of Lono. It was
carved with greater skill than common, and surrounded by a company of
white-robed priests, chanting the “mele” or hymn, which had been composed
upon his disappearance. At particular parts the whole people joined
with a melancholy refrain, that gave a living interest to the story,
and showed how forcible was the hold it had upon their imaginations.
On either side of Kiana, were twelve men of immense size and strength,
naked to their waist-cloths, two by two, bearing the “_kahilis_,” as were
called the insignia of his rank. These were formed of scarlet feathers,
thickly set, in the shape of a plume, of eighteen inches diameter, about
ten feet high, and tipped to the depth of a foot with yellow feathers.
With the handles, which were encircled with alternate rings of ivory or
tortoise-shell, their entire height was twenty feet. As they towered and
waved above the multitude, they conveyed an idea of state and grandeur
inferior to nothing of the kind that has ever graced the ceremonies of
the white man.
The women of his household followed close to the chief. Their
aristocratic birth and breeding were manifest in their corpulency and
haughty bearing. To exaggerate their size,—which was partly a criterion
of noble blood—they had swelled their waists with voluminous folds of
gaudy cloths, under the pressure of which, added to their own bulk,
they waddled rather than walked. Helped by young and active attendants,
their pace was, however, equal to the slow progress of the procession.
A numerous retinue of their own sex, bearing their tokens of rank, fans,
fly-brushes, spittoons, sunscreens, and lighter articles of clothing,
waited upon them. Some of these young women were gracefully formed, fair
and voluptuous, with pleasant features, without any excess of flesh.
In contrast with their mistresses, they might have been considered as
beauties, as, indeed, they were the belles of Hawaii. Small, soft hands,
delicate and tapering fingers, satin-like in their touch and gentle and
pleasant to the shake, were common among all.
[Illustration]
The women in general were a laughing, merry set, prone to affection,
finery, and sensuous enjoyment. But the lower orders were workers in the
fullest sense, the men being their task-masters, treating them as an
inferior caste by imposing upon their sex arbitrary distinctions in their
food, domestic privileges, duties, and even religious rites, so that
their social condition was wantonly degraded. Yet females were admitted
to power and often held the highest rank.
Besides this state there was a vast throng of attendants carrying
burdens, or driving before them their domestic animals. The families of
the soldiery followed the procession, in irregular masses, as it defiled
from the plain into the valleys that led towards the coast. In advancing,
its numbers gradually lessened by the departure of warriors, and minor
chiefs with their retainers, for their respective destinations. With
the exception of those immediately about Kiana, all order of march soon
ceased, and the crowd spread themselves over hill and valley shouting
and jeering, in their good-natured hurry to reach their homes. The fowls
cackled, the dogs barked. The swine with ominous grunts charged in all
directions, upsetting impartially owners and neighbors, amid the laughter
and cheers of the lookers on. Children grew doubly mischievous in the
turmoil, running hither and thither, with frantic cries, pushing and
crowding each other over rocks into the rapid streams, in which they
were as much at home as the fishes. They tripped up their heavily laden
parents in their gambols about their footsteps, dodging the quick blow
in return with the slipperiness of eels, or repaying with equally noisy
coin the threats of future floggings, which they well knew would be
forgotten over the first meal. The more sedate vented their enthusiasm
in deep toned songs, which, as they swelled into full chorus, filled the
air with a wild music, in keeping with the scene. In forest and grove the
birds listened and replied in musical notes that thrilled sweetly on the
ear amid the medley of sounds. Nature was awake to the scene. From every
tree and rock, out of each dell and off each hill-top, there came voices
to mingle in the general jubilee. The mountain breezes poured their
anthems in joyous harmony through branch and leaf. Buds and blossoms
bowing before balmy airs, shook out their fragrance. Cascades sparkled
and leaped, foamed and roared in the bright sun. Rivulets, looking in
the distance like silver threads, stole with soothing murmurs along the
plains, while the startled wild fowl with defiant note fled deeper into
the forest or skulked closer in the thicket as the living current swept
by.
While all was thus life and motion in the uplands, the solitude of
the sea coast remained as described in the last chapter. Alvirez and
his party had disposed themselves for the night as best suited their
individual convenience. There was no lack of accommodation or retirement.
Each might have selected a village to himself, but they all remained
within the enclosure where we left them. Juan and Beatriz occupied the
principal house. Olmedo chose one near, and the good man was soon
dreaming of his early Castilian cell. Tolta watched long and late,
and then stretched himself, mastiff-like, upon a mat at the threshold
of the house in which Beatriz slept. The three seamen, after sundry
explorations, which seemed to give them small satisfaction, cursed their
luck in being wrecked on a land which had not even copper, much less gold
or silver, in short, anything whatever which came up to their ideas of
spoil, and closing their eyes, muttered their discontent even in their
sleep.