The village of Nahua is again decked for the yearly festival of the
maidens, but as yet no sounds of gaiety are heard; but if we bend our
steps toward the shining beach we shall find it a scene for a painter.
Beautiful children lie on the sand, or in childish play half bury
themselves, heaping the bright sand high on their little bodies. Older
children search for shells or bits of delicate coral. Young men and
maidens may be seen in the water, some going far out to the reef on surf
boards. Among these latter are Ahleka and Mabel, Ahleka guiding with
skill the lightly floating board, while Mabel lies almost her full
length upon it. It is not by any means the first time since her
residence on the island of Kaahlanai that she has been surf riding, a
pastime of which she is very fond, enjoying the excitement of it as
keenly as any native girl.
“See!” she cried at length, to Ahleka, “every one has gone up to the
village but ourselves. Shall we not go back?”
“Yes we will go back,” came the reply, “but only to the beach, not to
the village.” He had noticed before she spoke, that the happy throng had
left the beach while they were enjoying their ride, but had said nothing
as he was glad to be alone with her. They were swiftly carried in shore
on the crest of a rolling breaker which soon landed them on the beach.
As Ahleka stopped to draw in the surf board, Mabel started up to the
beach in the direction of the village, but Ahleka called after her:
“Mabel, will you not stay and walk in the sun until your hair is once
more dry, and like the rays of the morning sun for brightness?” She
returned, her damp hair clinging about her shoulders and bosom. They
paced slowly up and down the silvery sand, and continued to do so long
after her skirts of sea grass, and her hair were dry; but it was so
pleasant to walk there in the fresh balmy morning air. Ahleka looked
down at the little figure beside him, his eyes filled with the tenderest
love. Mabel, glancing up, encountered his impassioned gaze, “Ahleka, my
Ahleka,” she softly murmured, hardly knowing what she said.
In an instant, as his ear detected the tenderness in her voice, he
caught her in his arms, holding her so closely as actually to hurt her.
“Ahleka,” she said, “I was going to ask why you did not join the young
men in the festival of the maidens.”
“Oh, my love, could I join the young men to be chosen in marriage when
she, whom I adore, does not join the maidens?”
“But I thought all unmarried men were obliged to join the ranks.”
“That is true, but the chief of each village is an exception, so I need
not join unless I wish.”
While they had been talking, they had found a soft bank of deep moss
under wide-spread trees. On this bank they now reclined, Ahleka holding
Mabel’s hand in both of his.
“According to our custom I should have waited until you declared your
love for me, but my father has explained the customs of your land to me,
and I—oh, my love, my fair white lily, my precious moon maiden, can you
love Ahleka?”
She raised her eyes to his, but before she could answer him, he had
showered warm kisses over her face, neck and shoulders, in a transport
of tenderness.
“Ah,” he cried, “if you say no; you love me not, I have kissed you, and
that is happiness.” Then, as she lay passive in his arms, it filled him
with a horrible dread, and he exclaimed:
“How can I expect that you will love me, who am only a savage at most,
whose skin is black! What do I think of?”
“Do not speak so Ahleka, I do love you,” she whispered, putting her arm
about his neck and nestling closely in his embrace; “I do love you; how
could I help loving you after all your kindness to us.”
“No, that is gratitude, not love, if you feel that way,” he said,
relaxing his hold of her form.
“No, no, Ahleka, I love you because I cannot help myself.”
“Then you will be my own? Mine forever, my little one,” drawing her
again close in his arms.
“Yes, I am yours,” she seemed to breathe her reply.
“The yearly festival shall find us ever fond. We will join in the
festival to-day, shall we not?” asked he.
“No, let us wait until the next festival. The months between will be so
sweet, filled as they will be by our dream of happiness.”
“It shall be as you wish, but at least, we may stand among the young men
and maidens and publicly acknowledge our choice.”
“Yes, my Ahleka, my prince among men, we will not be ashamed to
acknowledge our love. Is it not strange that we two, born so far apart,
having no knowledge of each other, and even speaking different
languages, should now be held close in the embrace of love?” said she.
“It is fate, Mabel,” he answered, “you were born to be mine, you have
braved unknown seas, escaping wreck, defying fire, and, in the face of
death, been brought by the hands of fate safely to this unknown shore to
be mine. It was decreed that you were to be mine, and no obstacle is too
great to be overcome by fate. I thank the fates that have smiled upon us
and brought us out of the darkness of the unknown into the happy light
of love. Now I fear nothing that can happen unless it be the taking of
your love from me.”
“Nothing can alter that, Ahleka.”
“In your own land, did you never love?” he asked, holding her to him in
an agony of suspense. For he was not satisfied that she should love him
now, but wanted to feel that he had been her only love.
“Never! Ahleka, never! The young men in my land are not nature’s
children as you are, living pure and wholesome lives, but most of them
are dissipated, and vicious creatures to be abhorred, rather than loved,
or else, weak, worthless beings that no noble woman could give herself
to without degrading herself. The men of my land do not study nature in
her wondrous, varying moods, as you do. Nor do they make manly vigor and
perfection their first aim in life. They have no time to give thought to
these things; they are taken up in the mad rush in the pursuit of
money.”
“And is not love before money?”
“No, in my land men and women work for money, beg for money, steal for
money, marry for money, love for money. No, in all my life you are the
only man, the purity of whose motives, whose highness of aim, whose
nobleness of nature, has made him worthy of my devotion.”
He drew her yielding form closer, and stroked her sunny hair softly as
he said, “We are from this moment consecrated to one another, and you
shall never have one moment when the sunlight of happiness is dimmed, if
Ahleka can keep the shadow from falling on the heart of her, who is
dearer to him than life itself.”
How long the happy pair would have remained reclining under the fragrant
trees, with the sweet songs of bright, winged birds, and the soft plash
of the waves breaking at their feet, the only sounds to reach their
ears, we cannot tell, if at that moment Etta and Kaelea had not come
bounding down the beach in the direction of their retreat, Etta crying
out to them:
“Oh, you idlers. Why are you not dressed for the feast? The hour of rest
is over and every one is ready for the festival, except you two. What in
the world have you been about, that you are not ready also?”
The pair of lovers were now on their feet and Ahleka answered, “We shall
soon be ready. Come Mabel.”
Etta, full of mischief and realizing the situation, having seen Ahleka’s
arm clasped around Mabel, called after them: “Mabel, don’t let him play
the part of prince charming.”
Mabel blushed, for she remembered how angry that same remark had made
her two years and a half ago. She made no answer, but cast a merry look
back at the two girls who were following them to the village.
The usual merriment of the festival was indeed beginning as they reached
the village, but it did not take either Ahleka or Mabel long to array
themselves with fresh adornment for the feast, and take their place
amongst the rest of the young men and maidens. Mabel had learned to
dance the nui-nui, or maidens dance, as well as any of the young girls.
Ahleka thought her doubly entrancing as her delicate proportions were so
gracefully displayed by the movements of the dance. They soon left the
ranks, returning to Ahleka’s father, and the rest who sat upon the mats.
Captain Thornton took Mabel in his arms and said: “May heaven bless you
my child. I know you will be happy with Ahleka, for he is lovable,
gentle and kind.”
Captain Gray looked at her, with a peculiar expression, and said to
Etta: “I would never allow you to marry one of these black Apollo’s, so
don’t you fall in love with one of them.”
Captain Thornton overhearing this remark, spoke up, “You make a mistake,
my friend; if she loves one of our young men it is far better that she
marry him, for she will not be happy otherwise, and you surely do not
wish to see her unhappy.”
“No, I don’t want to see her unhappy,” Captain Gray answered, “but all
the same, she shan’t marry on this island with my consent.”
Etta heard these words with a sinking heart, as there was a young man of
the village of Howcu, the son of the young doctor, who had landed on the
island with Captain Thornton’s party, with whom she already had had many
a pleasant meeting in the lovely, shady groves that were so plentiful on
the way between the two villages.