There was a maiden named Liliokani whose father was a fisherman. But
the maiden liked not her father's employment, for she believed it to be
an offence against Atua, the all-god, to deprive any animal of that
life which Atua had breathed into it. And this was pleasing unto Atua,
and he blessed Liliokani with exceeding beauty; no other eyes were so
large, dark, and tender as hers; the braids of her long, soft hair fell
like silken seagrass upon her shoulders; she was tall and graceful as
the palm, and her voice was the voice of the sea when the sea cradles
the moonlight and sings it to sleep.
Full many kings' sons came wooing Liliokani, and chiefs renowned in
war; and with others came Tatatao, that was a mighty hunter of hares
and had compassed famous hardships. For those men that delight in
adventure and battle are most pleasantly minded to gentle women, for
thus capriciously hath Atua, the all-god, ordained. But Liliokani had
no ear to the wooing of these men, and the fisherman's daughter was a
virgin when Mimi came.
Mimi was king of the eels, and Atua had given him eternal life and the
power to change his shape when it pleased him to issue from the water
and walk the earth. It befell that this eel-king, Mimi, beheld
Liliokani upon a time as he swam the little river near her father's
abode, and he saw that she was exceeding fair and he heard the soft,
sad sea-tone in her voice. So for many days Mimi frequented those
parts and grew more and more in love with the maiden.
Upon a certain day, while she helped her father to mend his nets,
Liliokani saw a young man of goodly stature and handsome face
approaching, and to herself she said: "Surely if ever I be tempted to
wed it shall be with this young man, whose like I have never before
known." But she had no thought that it was Mimi, the eel-king, who in
this changed shape now walked the earth.
Sweetly he made obeisance and pleasant was his discourse with the
fisherman and his daughter, and he told them many things of his home,
which he said was many kumes distant from that spot. Though he spake
mostly to the old man, his eyes were fixed upon Liliokani, and, after
the fashion of her sex, that maiden presently knew that he had great
love unto her. Many days after that came Mimi to hold discourse with
them, and they had joy of his coming, for in sooth he was of fair
countenance and sweet address, and the fisherman, being a single-minded
and a simple man, had no suspicion of the love between Mimi and
Liliokani. But once Mimi said to Liliokani in such a voice as the
sea-wind hath to the maiden palm-trees: "Brown maiden mine, let thy
door be unlatched this night, and I will come to thee."
So the door was not latched that night and Mimi went in unto her, and
they two were together and alone.
"What meaneth that moaning of the sea?" asked Liliokani.
"The sea chanteth our bridal anthem," he answered.
"And what sad music cometh from the palms to-night?" she asked.
"They sing soft and low of our wedded love," he answered.
But Liliokani apprehended evil, and, although she spake no more of it
at that time, a fear of trouble was in her heart.
Now Atua, the all-god, was exceeding wroth at this thing, and in
grievous anger he beheld how that every night the door was unlatched
and Mimi went in unto Liliokani. And Atua set about to do vengeance,
and Atua's wrath is sure and very dreadful.
There was a night when Mimi did not come; the door was unlatched and
the breath of Liliokani was as the perfume of flowers and of spices
commingled; yet he came not. Then Liliokani wept and unbraided her
hair and cried as a widow crieth, and she thought that Mimi had found
another pleasanter than she unto him. So, upon the next night, she
latched the door. But in the middle of the night, when the fire was
kindled in the island moon, there was a gentle tapping at the door, and
Mimi called to her. And when she had unlatched the door she began to
chide him, but he stopped her chiding, and with great groaning he took
her to his breast, and she knew by the beating of his heart that evil
had come upon him.
Then Mimi told her who he was and how wroth the all-god was because the
eel-king, forgetful of his immortality and neglectful of his domain,
loved the daughter of a mortal.
"Forswear me, then," quoth Liliokani, "forswear me, and come not hither
again, and the anger of the all-god shall be appeased."
"It is not to lie to Atua," answered Mimi. "The all-god readeth every
heart and knoweth every thought. How can I, that love thee only,
forswear thee? More just and terrible would be Atua's wrath for that
lie to him and that wrong to thee and to myself. Brown maiden, I go
back into the sea and from thee forever, bearing with me a love for
thee which even the all-god's anger cannot chill."
So he kissed her for the last time and bade her a last farewell, and
then he went from that door down to the water's edge and into his
domain. And Liliokani made great moan and her heart was like to break.
But the sea was placid as a hearthstone and the palms lay asleep in the
sky that night, for it was Atua's will that the woman should suffer
alone.
In the middle of the next night a mighty tempest arose. The clouds
reached down and buffeted the earth and sea, and the winds and the
waters cried out in anger against each other and smote each other.
Above the tumult Atua's voice was heard. "Arise, Liliokani," quoth
that voice, "and with thy father's stone hatchet smite off the head of
the fish that lieth upon the threshold of the door."
Then Liliokani arose with fear and trembling and went to the door, and
there, on the threshold, lay a monster eel whose body had been floated
thither by the flood and the tempest. With her father's stone hatchet
she smote off the eel's head, and the head fell into the hut, but the
long, dead body floated back with the flood into the sea and was seen
no more. Then the tempest abated, and with the morning came the sun's
light and its tender warmth. And at the earliest moment Liliokani took
the eel's head secretly and buried it with much sorrow and weeping, for
the eyes within that lifeless head were Mimi's eyes, and Liliokani knew
that this thing was come of the all-god's wrath.
It was her wont to go each day and make moan over the spot where she
had hid this vestige of her love, and presently Atua pitied her, for
Atua loveth his children upon this earth, even though they sin most
grievously. So, by and by, Liliokani saw that two green leaves were
sprouting from the earth, and in a season these two leaves became twin
stalks and grew into trees, the like of which had never before been
seen upon earth. And Liliokani lived to see and to taste the fruit of
these twin trees that sprung from Mimi's brain--the red cocoanut and
the white cocoanut, whereof all men have eaten since that time. And
all folk hold that fruit in sweet estimation, for it cometh from the
love that a god had unto a mortal woman, and mortality is love and love
is immortality.
Atua forgot not Liliokani when the skies opened to her; she liveth
forever in the star that looketh only upon this island, and it is her
tender grace that nourishes the infant cocoas and maketh the elder ones
fruitful. Meanwhile no woman that dwelleth upon earth hath
satisfaction in tasting the flesh of eels, for a knowledge of Mimi's
love and sacrifice hath been subtly implanted by Atua, the all-god, in
every woman's breast.