and then shriller still, like the harsh shriek of sea-birds, followed
blasts from the conch-shell trumpets which woke all the echoes of the
dead old crater, and sent the gulls clangorous and protesting from
their marshy resting-place to fill the air, hitherto so still, with
noise and motion. And as the upper element was thus suddenly awakened
into life, so the waves below became, almost in another moment, ridged
with foam in a hundred places. Where the sunbeams had slept placidly
on an unbroken surface of azure, they were now reflected hither and
thither by the black sides of canoes, the flashing of outriggers, the
sheen of polished metal, the scarlet and yellow of innumerable feather
cloaks, the glittering of oars amid the spray-rain, the gleaming of
dusky bodies, and the forward leap of the high prows, whose painted
eyes seemed to glow with the fire of life. And in advance was the
famous double war canoe Peleleu, the rowers straining at the oars, and
the _kahili_-bearers and warriors standing around the mighty chief who
was destined to make Hawaii a nation.
On they came, nearing the flat beach of Waikiki, where unless
Kalanikapule opposed, they could enter the coral reef and land without
impediment. But Kalanikapule chose to meet his rival in the heart of
the country among the _palis_, rather than on the level ground; so,
though from Leahi you could have seen the moving of dark masses of men
among the forests of the southern side of the island, there was no sign
on the beach of opposition to the landing of the Hawaiian troops.
Hakuole hastened to his post in the army, but he did not forget
Leilehua, for her gift was around his neck.
* * * * *
Of the strife that followed, with all its thrilling episodes, we must
forbear to speak. How Kalanikapule collected his forces in the Nuuanu
Pali; how Kamehameha followed him with his veterans, driving him to
the ridge of the island; how the traitor Kaiana met his doom; how
Kamehameha’s white men brought into battle the red-mouthed guns which
made the thunder roll among the mountains; how the fight raged on till
the awful precipice was reached, from which men poured down in a living
avalanche to the rocks below; how at last Kamehameha drew back his
victorious troops into the lower country, where the loud “_Auwe_” of
the women rent the air in wailing for their husbands and fathers--all
these are stories by themselves.
Kamehameha knew himself at last lord of the Eight Islands from Niihau
to Hawaii.
* * * * *
It was a day of great mourning in Oahu. In every house there was
wailing and rending of hair for the warriors transfixed by the sharp
spears or battered to death on the rocks of the Nuuanu Pali. But they
had fought well, they were gone to Paliuli, the blue mountain, to
the land of the divine water of Kane, and as the sun set men saw the
great procession of the dead in the western sky leaving the earth
forever by the road of the gods. But when the sun rose again in the
east they turned their thoughts to the living and the day. What now
would be their fate? Kamehameha would hold his court; he would receive
the homage of the conquered people; he would expect his _hookana_ or
tribute. “Let us hasten,” they said, “to propitiate the new king.”
So all prepared to go with their gifts. Prominent among these was
Kamakahou, the father of Leilehua. He had known of Hakuole’s love and
had been himself disposed to accept him for a son-in-law, but he was a
sycophant and a schemer. As a _kahuna_ he had been among the advisers
of the fallen chiefs, and his reputation for learning was great. He
knew the five planets and suspected the existence of a sixth; he knew
all the _kapu_ days, the holy seasons and the prescribed ordinances;
he could prepare lustral waters to drive away diseases and demons. He
was proficient in all the ten branches of priestly lore, and could
even cause the spirits of the dead to enter the body of a person and
possess it. He was skilled, moreover, in the preparation of medicines,
and could cure toothache and bruises and broken bones.
But with all his learning he was avaricious and preferred the favor of
the king to the approval of his conscience. So he prepared his gift and
went.
The court of Kamehameha was held in the open air, the royal pavilion
consisting of a raised couch of ferns over which a slight _lanai_ had
been built of _lauhala_ palms. The king reclined at his ease. Beside
him stood the royal _kahili_-bearers waving their huge feather brushes.
Close by stood the _pukanas_, or trumpeters, with gorgeous headgear and
capes. Near these stood the _kukini_, or runners, the _kahunas_, with
tabu-sticks, while the _hula_-girls with instruments of music squatted
a little to the left. In the midst of the _kahunas_, on a carpet of
red cloth was the famous war god of Kamehameha, Kaili, whose shriek
could be heard above the din of battle. It was of wickerwork decorated
with small feathers, its eyes made of large oyster shells and mouth
ornamented by a double row of dog’s fangs.
Before the king the gifts lay in piles--calabashes of rare wood, logs
of _iliahi_, or sandalwood, rolls of curiously wrought _kapa_, pigs,
dogs, cocoanuts, sweet potatoes, seaweeds, shrimps, _papai_, _opelo_,
_awa_, and many another costly article of dress, or dainty morsel of
food.
Finally, when Kamehameha seemed a little sated with his _hookana_, came
a gift which drew all eyes. They saw Kamakahou leading his daughter
Leilehua forward to the presence of the king. “O king,” he cried,
“behold the _kaikamahine_; take her, the light of my eyes, and let
there be peace between us.”
The maiden, who had advanced reluctantly, stood timidly before the
couch, her face hid in her hands. The black tresses fell down her back
in great coils, rippling over her dusky shoulders and falling to the
skirt of yellow _kapa_ which was fastened around her waist. On her head
was a wreath of the scarlet flowers from which she took her name; on
her wrists and ankles bracelets of sea-shells, and on her breast the
ivory emblem suspended by the mystic three hundred braids of human hair.
Only a moment she stood, and then, weeping, sank on her knees, let her
hands fall from her face, and with pleading eyes gazed into the king’s
face. Kamehameha, startled at so beauteous a vision, raised himself
from the couch and, as he stood erect, clad in the brilliant feather
cloak which was the work of ten generations of kings, he seemed a god
come down in human form. As he stepped forward to take the hand of the
tribute girl, a great shout began--
“_Nani loa! Maikai loa! e----_”
_Began_, I say, but did not finish; for, lo! the circle of spectators
parted, and there strode to the side of the weeping maid a young
man who lacked but little of the height of Kamehameha himself. He
was covered with blood and dust, having almost crawled from the
battlefield, but he stood erect now, and he had a torn wreath of
flowers around his neck. He did not flinch before the gaze of the king,
but caught the hand of Leilehua, lifted her up, and bore her in among
the people. It took only a few seconds, but the stillness of death had
fallen upon the people. Was Hakuole mad? Had he seen a _lapu_ and been
bewitched? Rash man! See the thunder-cloud in the face of the chief who
was never crossed with impunity! What fate did the conqueror of Oahu
meditate for the man who braved him? Would he be offered as a sacrifice
at the _heiau_, or would he be clubbed to death, burned, or buried
alive?
Hark! the king raises his voice, and his guards seize the overbold
youth and the maiden, hurry them before the dais, and stand ready to
carry out whatever sentence of death is imposed.
Leilehua and Hakuole stand before Kamehameha, and they can hear their
hearts beat, the people are so quiet.
Then Kamehameha speaks in strong, firm tones, which show the man born
for command, but with no touch of immoderate anger. The cloud has gone
from his face, but he begins sharply enough:
“_E Hakuole_, so you are tired of life, tired of fighting. You dream
already of maiden’s eyes and a life among the _nala_. You would let
the prows rot on the beach, seeking no more for the glory a man ought
to love. Well, as you mean to stay among the _wahine_, and love a
maiden here more than you fear me, I suspend you from a soldier’s duty
till the moon Ikiiki returns. Away! and for the girl, Leilehua, the
faithful in love, all the lands which were her father’s are hers from
henceforth. Take the _kaikamahine_--beautiful is she as the morning
breaking the shadows--and may the loves of Leilehua and Hakuole be as
glorious to Hawaii as the wars of Kamehameha.”
Kamehameha had indeed won a greater victory than that of Nuuanu
Pali, for the hearts of the people, and not their bodies only, were
henceforth his forever.
* * * * *
Thus the first of the Seven Kings of Hawaii established his sovereignty
and founded a dynasty, and the statue of this “Napoleon of the
Pacific” in front of Aliiolani Hale, in Honolulu, will ever attract
the reverence of men. Had all the island kings been like the first
Kamehameha, Hawaii had never more known the strife of factions.
Hakuole and Leilehua had a long honeymoon, in which they learned
depths of love as yet unfathomed. Then they came back to be among the
staunchest supporters of the new king. Love grew with the years, and
the sweet singers of Hawaii to-day can choose no better theme to bring
back the romance of the old barbaric times than the story of sweet
Leilehua and her bold lover Hakuole, who for her sake braved the wrath
of a king.
IX
THE SPOUTING CAVE OF LANAI
“Over the mountains and under the waves.
Over the fountains and under the graves.
Over floods that are deepest,
Which Neptune obey,
Over rocks that are steepest,
Love will find out the way.”
--_Old Song._
Readers of Byron will remember, in his poem entitled, “The Island,” the
description of a wonderful cavern at Toobanai, the only entrance to
which was under the sea. The way by which Neuha guided Torquil to its
safe retreat is described as follows:
“Young Neuha plunged into the deep, and he
Follow’d; her track beneath the native sea.
Was as a native’s of the element,
So smoothly, bravely, brilliantly she went,
Leaving a streak of light behind her heel,
Which struck and flash’d like an amphibious steel.
Closely, and scarcely less expert to trace
The depths where divers hold the pearl in chase,
Torquil, the nursling of the northern seas,
Pursued her liquid steps with art and ease.
Deep--deeper for an instant Neuha led
The way--then upward soar’d--and as she spread
Her arms and flung the foam from off her locks
Laugh’d and the sound was answered by the rocks.
They had gain’d a central realm of earth again,
But look’d for tree, and field, and sky in vain.
Around she pointed to a spacious cave,
Whose only portal was the keyless wave.”
The poet admits having found the original of his submarine cave in
Mariner’s “Account of the Tonga Islands,” taking advantage of the
license allowed to poets to transplant it to the scene of his poem.
Probably he did not know that there existed in the Hawaiian group a
cavern similar to that which he describes, to which attaches a story
far more romantic than that of the loves of Torquil and Neuha.
The Puhio-kaala, or Spouting Cave of Kaala, is on the rocky coast
of the little island of Lanai, near Kaumalapau Bay. Down below the
rocky bluff is that “refuge submarine” where “Nature played with the
stalactites, and built herself a chapel of the seas.”
The entrance is marked by the vortex of a whirlpool, from which a
column of foam rises up when the tide runs out. He who dared to venture
the perils of the entrance would, on gaining his footing below, find
himself beneath a “self-born Gothic canopy,”
“A hollow archway by the sun unseen,
Save through the billows’ glassy veil of green.”
The pleasure of the diver, however, would be rudely disturbed when he
found the cave already occupied by millions of cold-blooded, slimy,
shelly, stinging, dank and noisome creatures of the deep. Once, legend
says, it was inhabited by the great lizard god, Moalii, but Ukanipo,
the shark god, threatened to block up the entrance with rocks if he did
not move. Thereupon the cave was left to its present smaller, but no
less uncanny tenants.
These were quite sufficient to prevent frequent visits to the cave,
though in truth there were few bold and skillful enough to shoot
through the whirlpool into its sunless depths, even if inclined.
* * * * *
At the present time Lanai has but a few hundred inhabitants at most,
although one of the loveliest islands of the group. But when, over a
hundred years ago, Kamehameha, with his court, paid it a brief visit to
enjoy an interval of rest and refreshment, he found no fewer than five
or six thousand people on the beach to welcome him. Rich and numerous
were the presents brought, and among those who offered their gifts was
Kaala, “the flower of Lanai,” who strewed flowers no lovelier than
herself in the conqueror’s path.
She was a beautiful girl of fifteen, the daughter of a chief named
Opunui, and one who had no lack of admirers. Even Kamehameha could not
help following her graceful movements with pleasure. But in the heart
of one who followed in the king’s train, the warrior Kaaialii, the girl
made such instant havoc that it needed only a glance for her to detect
the passion she had kindled. And, strange to say, she who had repulsed
so many adorers in her native isle, felt herself won in a moment by
this tall, sinewy chief from Oahu.
Kaaialii, seeing and reading her smile, apprehended no difficulty in
winning her for his wife, but he was overestimating the smoothness of
true love’s course.
When he begged Kamehameha to grant him Kaala for a wife, the king made
no objection, but ventured to suggest, in justice, a reference to the
father, too.
Even this, difficult as it may appear in prospect to most lovers,
did not seem a hopeless task to Kaaialii, for he was well known as a
warrior and better born than Opunui.
Opunui, however, thought otherwise. He had a grudge against Kaaialii
which went back as far as the battle of Maunalei, when they had been
opposed in the conflict, and, moreover, there was another suitor, who,
although detested by the girl, was more than eligible in the eyes of
her father.
This favored one was Mailou, “the bone breaker”--one whose prowess as a
wrestler had won the unstinted admiration and regard of the father, but
inspired no tender feeling in the breast of the daughter.
Now Opunui was too wise to meet Kamehameha’s request for his daughter
with a blunt refusal, and he respected the “bone breaker’s” powers
of body too much to cast him aside for another without an effort, so
he assumed an air of great deference, told the king how pleased he
would be to comply, and how great an honor he would esteem it to have
Kaaialii for a son-in-law, but that unfortunately he had pledged his
word to his estimable friend Mailou. The only way out of the dilemma,
the wily old man suggested, was for Mailou and Kaaialii to wrestle the
matter out between them. He would be content to leave the girl in the
victor’s hands.
Of course he had such faith in the cruel embrace of the “bone breaker”
that he believed it vain for his daughter to aspire to the embrace of
Kaaialii.
Everywhere the news of the contest spread, and was received with
pleasure, for the Hawaiian needed nothing more than _panem et
circenses_ to make up the joy of life. There was only one exception and
this was the maiden who was to be chief gainer or loser by the struggle.
She was driven almost to despair by the news, for she knew the deadly
strength of Mailou, and could not forget the reports of the many wives
he had slain and cast into the sea. She clung to Kaaialii as to one
whom she was sending to his death, and yet one in whom was her only
hope of life.
Meanwhile the arena was prepared. The two combatants stood face to
face--Mailou with his long arms, broad shoulders and mighty limbs, his
fingers opening and closing, as if impatient to tear his adversary to
pieces--Kaaialii in comparison almost frail and slender, yet with no
lack of cheerful confidence expressed in his handsome features.
Kaala knew no more of Shakespeare than Shakespeare knew of her; but, as
she gazed trembling at her lover, she felt, with Rosalind:
“The little strength that I have, I would it were with you.”
Then the battle began, a struggle to the death, in which every injury
it was possible to inflict was permissible. To the taunts of Mailou,
Kaaialii made no reply, but when the “bone breaker” sprang like a wild
beast at his throat, his shark-like teeth grinning with anticipated
triumph, he was on the alert and, dexterously swinging aside his body,
he allowed Mailou to fall headlong to the earth. In another instant he
had seized his right arm, and with a skillful kick snapped the bone
below the elbow. With a howl of rage Mailou rushed again to the attack,
but was felled to the ground and his left arm broken as the right had
been. With both arms broken, the furious giant rushed once again at the
warrior, charging with lowered head, like a bull. But this was his last
charge, for Kaaialii had him by the hair as he fell, and, placing his
knee against his back, with a mighty effort broke his spine.
There was general rejoicing at Kaaialii’s victory, for the wrestler,
though feared on account of his strength, was too much of a bully to be
popular, and only in the heart of Opunui was there any regret at the
issue. Opunui, so far from being reconciled to Kaala becoming the wife
of Kaaialii, was more than ever determined that the latter should never
carry away his prize.
So, although he opposed no word when Kamehameha placed the lovers hand
in hand before him and pronounced them married, he formed his plan.
With soft, plausible words he approached his daughter, expressing his
delight at her happiness, but requesting that she would come with him
for the last time to visit her mother, Kalani, and speak the sad words
of farewell. The maiden tearfully acquiesced and, assuring Kaaialii of
her speedy return, followed her father down the valley of Palawai,
towards the Bay of Kaumalapau.
“Why go to the bay, my father, since you say that my mother is ill at
Malana?” inquired the girl.
The old hypocrite answered that her mother was at the seashore, where
she had prepared a banquet in celebration of her child’s marriage.
There were crabs, shrimps, limpets, and all kinds of dainties. Kalani
only awaited her husband and daughter.
Arrived at the shore, however, Kaala saw that her mother’s fire was not
there, and knew that her father was deceiving her. Glancing up she saw
his face lighted with a cruel smile, which no longer concealed his real
feelings.
“Listen,” he said, “rather than be the bride of Kaaialii you shall have
a shark for your mate, and in his palace beneath the sea I will keep
you safe till the king has left Lanai with his warriors.”
The poor girl screamed, for she guessed his purpose, but it was too
late to resist. Just below the bench of rock on which they stood, the
Spouting Cave roared and foamed. Opunui knew its entrance well, and
seizing his daughter in his arms waited for the moment when the column
of water settled down into the vortex. Then he sprang and, sinking
beneath the surface, the two found themselves drawn swiftly by the
current down and down, and then suddenly swept through the entrance
into a dark and gloomy cavern.
The greenish light showed even to the fainting girl the horror of
her surroundings, and it was as in a dream that she heard her father
declare that there she should remain till the hated Kaaialii had given
her up and gone. She had barely time to renew her vow of fidelity to
her lover before Opunui seized the proper moment, plunged once more
into the water and was sucked up with the spouting column into the
upper air.
The girl, brought back to consciousness by the very terror of her
situation, was left alone to waste her strength in unavailing efforts
to return through the water. Alas! this was a feat requiring a strength
and a skill far beyond such as hers.
We return to Kaaialii, who was anything but pleased with the bride’s so
sudden departure. He followed her with his eyes as long as he could,
then he transferred his thoughts to the meeting again on the morrow.
But when the morrow came and no Kaala, and, still more, when he learned
that Kaala had never been near the hut of Kalani, his heart misgave him.
He started to seek his lost one, and wherever he went signs of evil
multiplied. The path of his beloved led to the sea and stopped; Opunui
kept out of his way and took refuge in a _puuhonua_; the diviners, whom
he consulted, could only tell him:
“The sweet-smelling flower of Lanai is neither in the hills nor in the
valleys. Search the sea. There are cliffs that are hollow, and caves
beneath the waves.”
With this vague oracle in his mind he wandered along the rocky shore,
crying out in his despair:
“O Kaala, Kaala! if living, where sleepest thou? If dead, where rest
thy bones?”
Suddenly from the waters below him there seemed to come a voice
mounting upward from a wraith of water. He looked below, and the
vortex at his feet seemed to call him by name and invite him. She was
dead, he thought, her spirit had called! What could he do better than
die too?
So with the cry “Kaala” upon his lips, he leaped and was engulfed in
the waves which dragged him below as with invisible hands.
A friend following him and knowing that here was the entrance to the
Spouting Cave, fled along the rocks and told what he had seen, and in
an hour or two Kamehameha himself, rowed by his sturdiest oarsmen, was
near the spot in his canoe.
Kaaialii found himself drawn downwards till he no longer believed
himself alive. At last his feet gained the sloping beach and he found
his head once more above water, but, in the dark, he believed he had
arrived in the hall of the dead. The thundering of the breakers sounded
above him, life seemed left far behind, but both hope and memory came
back with the touch of cold and slimy things crawling over and stinging
his flesh. He knew he was alive, and just at that moment a low moan
reached his ears which made his heart stand still.
Looking around he saw a dark form upon the strand, and from this
direction came the moaning.
He crawled towards it, and had barely reached it ere he heard his name
pronounced. It was the body of Kaala he saw before him and the creeping
things of the sea were sucking her blood.
Kaaialii flung himself upon her with a passionate kiss.
“O Kaala! Kaaialii is here!” He pushed back her wet hair, took her in
his arms, and began to carry her towards the opening of the cave. But
with a voice which grew gradually fainter, Kaala told him that she was
dying.
“I am so happy that you are here! Lay me down and let me die!”
The smile that played upon her lips testified to her joy, but it also
made Kaaialii hope for her life. When, however, he laid his hand upon
her heart, it was cold and still. Death had come and found her happy.
But Kaaialii still clasped his precious burden as though waiting for
Kaala to awake. He sat in silence, all unconscious of the flight of
time, until he was roused from his stupor by a splash.
In another instant came another, and then there rose up from the water
two forms: first the figure of Ua, a friend of Kaala, and immediately
behind Kamehameha, who had been shown the mouth of the cave and had
dauntlessly leaped to wrest from it its secret and his friend.
A swift glance revealed to the king all that had happened. The warrior
laid his dead bride beside him, rose to his feet, and with bent head
stood before his chief.
The stern monarch was touched with Kaaialii’s unspoken grief. “I see,”
he said; “she is dead. Let her rest; she can have no better sepulchre.
Come, Kaaialii, let us go.”
Then Kaaialii came to himself. He had never gone further in his
thoughts as yet than the discovery of his loved one. Now he knew and
faced the consequences.
“Go?” he cried. “Nay, I stay. Oh, my king, never have I disobeyed you
before, and never will I disobey you again. But here I must stay. My
life ends here.”
With a swift movement he seized a stone, dashed it against his head,
crushing into the very brain, then sank lifeless beside the body of
Kaala.
Kamehameha left them together, and by-and-by had them wrapped in folds
of _kapa_. There their bones lie to-day. Few, however, to-day know the
secret of the entrance to Puhio-Kaala.