The excitement caused by the arrival of the Eliza Judd was intense, as
she was the first craft the islanders had ever seen, with the exception
of the life-boat in which Captain Gray and his companions had come
ashore. The water was soon dotted by dozens of canoes, bearing them out
to inspect this wonder of man’s creation.
“Well, is your trunk all packed for the trip home?” asked Captain Gray,
with a laugh, of Mabel, who stood near him.
“Well, I must say, our packing will not take us long,” she replied, “but
do you know, Captain Gray, I hate to leave the island of Kaahlanai? I
have been so happy here.”
“Oh, nonsense, what do you find here to make you forget the life of your
own country, except it may be, your handsome rascal Ahleka. There lies
the secret of your liking for this country, I expect.”
“Oh, of course, that has something to do with it; but still there is so
much more real enjoyment in the lives of these people than at home, that
I cannot bear to leave it all.”
“By the way, when you get home again, what do you think your father is
going to say to your attachment for Ahleka? I think myself, that he will
soon put a stop to it. If he does not, he is not the sensible man I take
him to be.”
“He cannot put a stop to it,” said Mabel, firmly, then turned to join
Ahleka who stood a few steps away. The two lovers, leaving the rest of
the party, walked on in silence for some time, the heart of each too
full for speech. Finally coming to a clump of trees, under which the
grass was thick and long, they sat down.
Ahleka was the first to break the silence by saying: “Are you going to
leave Ahleka, my fair moon flower? Are you going to leave fair
Kaahlanai, the isle of the sun, and once more return to your own home
far across the water? What shall I do, my love, if you leave me?”
“Yes Ahleka, my prince. I must leave Kaahlanai and return to my own
land, for there my father mourns for me. I was his only happiness and I
must go back to him; but the thought of being separated from you is as
bitter to me as it is to you. But why cannot you go with me; then my
father may bless our union.”
“Do you wish me to go? You know that your wish is my law. You have but
to make a request and it shall be granted, even if it costs my life.
Yes, if it is your wish I will go.”
“It is my wish, and you have made me so happy by your consent. Now my
heart shall not be so sad at leaving Kaahlanai, where I have been so
content and happy, where I have learned so much that is pure and true.”
“But,” queried Ahleka, “will you still love me when you have once more
seen the difference between myself and the men of your own nation? Will
your heart still beat alone for him whose life is worthless without your
love?”
As he spoke he suddenly caught her in his arms and held her closely to
him, looking into her eyes with an expression almost fierce, so intense
were his feelings.
“Ah, Ahleka, I can never love any one but you. You are the one man, in
all the world to me. I love you far better each day. I would do anything
to prove my love to you.”
“Would you? Suppose I were to try your love in the shape of physical
suffering?”
“Ask whatever proof you wish, I will give it willingly,” was the answer
to his strange question.
“In the olden times,” he began, “when the different villages of
Kaahlanai were unfriendly to one another, they were continually at war,
and when the warriors left to fight for their village, it was their
custom to ask of their wives a proof of their love and devotion. This
proof consisted in cutting from the arm of the wife a small piece of
flesh and a corresponding piece from the husband’s arm, and transferring
the flesh of one arm to the other. Can your love stand so severe a
test?”
Mabel looked at him a moment and then quietly said, “I love you, Ahleka,
there is my arm; do as you please with it,” at the same time extending
her fair, round arm, which was bare, except that a number of shell
bracelets adorned it. Ahleka took her hand and covered the delicate arm
with his impassioned kisses.
“We will go,” he said, “to Kalui. He will perform for us, the test of
faith.” Kalui was an old man of Howcu, who attended the sick, if there
were any on the island. Howcu was much nearer the little cove where they
were seated than was Nahua. On reaching the house of Kalui, Ahleka
quickly made known to him the object of their visit. The old man was
surprised at the request, for it had been many a year since he had been
called upon to assist a loving couple in making this painful avowal of
their devotion. Turning to Mabel, he asked, “And can the maiden endure
the pain? can she stand the sight of the blood? If she is willing to do
this, she does indeed, love Ahleka.”
“Yes,” answered Mabel, “I am determined.”
The bronzed arm of Ahleka was now held firmly in Kalui’s left hand,
while in his right he held a little instrument resembling a pair of
scissors. He quickly cut a piece of quivering flesh from the arm, above
the elbow. Ahleka instantly placed his finger over the bleeding wound.
Mabel then extended her arm, at the same time averting her head. In an
instant the cruel cut was made, and the dark hued circle from Ahleka’s
arm was placed in the wound on Mabel’s arm, which was quickly bound
about with soft fibre cloth; then, the little white bit of skin was
bound on Ahleka’s arm. Thanking Kalui, they retraced their footsteps to
the beach.
“Now Ahleka, do you doubt my love?” enquired Mabel, as they walked
slowly back.
“No, I do not doubt you, how could I? but I have a terrible dread of the
difference you will see between the young men of your country and
myself. They have the advantage of me in education, refinement, in fact
in everything.”
“Not in everything, and really, but in very few things; not in
refinement, surely, for no refinement can be greater than true
manliness. You have been taught to be honest, generous, gentle and just,
and no amount of education could make you more fit to be loved, trusted
and honored than you are. In the knowledge of books, and in the ways of
the world beyond your own beautiful island, you are, to be sure,
untaught. But that is a little matter; you can soon learn all you need
to know of that.”
“Is it true that you feel so? But still, I fear that when you see me
ridiculed and made light of, on account of my ignorance, your heart will
grow cold toward me.”
“Never while I live, can that happen, Ahleka. The woman is not worthy
the name, who would let the words or actions of others turn her against
the man she has promised to love.”
Ahleka bent over her and gently touched his lips to her shining hair.
“Ah,” said he, “could any man have sweeter proof of woman’s love than
you have given to me!”
They had, by this time, reached the beach where the sailors from the
Eliza Judd and the inhabitants of Kaahlanai were collected. As they
approached, Captain Gray addressed them, “The task of supplying the Judd
with water is about completed. The captain and part of the crew are
going over to the village to have dinner with us. Then before sunset, we
will return here, whence we will take the boats for the Judd and at last
be on our way home.”