Part 7

“That is the answer, but who has told you?” cried the King.

He was not able to have Paka killed, and he had to give him whatever Paka chose to ask for. And Paka asked for the Princess Mako-lea who had been stolen away from him. He asked for her, and he was brought into another house. And there he beheld the Princess. And when he looked on her he knew that when his foster-father had said that she was faultless as the full moon he had spoken the truth. He took her back to Kona, to the house of her father and her mother, and in Kona they were wed, Paka and Mako-kea. And his two foster-fathers, Ki-i the Goer and Ki-i the Stayer, married Mako-lea’s two attendants; and thereafter the two elders lived so well that they almost came to forget Pali-uli, the easeful land.

THE STORY OF HA-LE-MA-NO AND THE PRINCESS KAMA.

In Puna lived the Princess Kama, and she was so beautiful that two Kings strove to win her—the King of Puna and the King of Hilo. They sent presents to her mother and to her father and to herself. But Kama never saw either of those Kings. She was sent to live in a house that no one was permitted to enter except herself and her brother. “In a while Kama will come to the height of her beauty,” her parents said, “and then we will give her to be Queen to one of these Kings. But until that time comes no one must speak to her.” And so, in a house that was forbidden to every one else, Kama lived with only her young brother for her companion.

Far away, on the Island of Oahu, there lived a youth whose name was Ha-le-ma-no. Every night he had a dream in which he met a beautiful maiden who talked to him and whose name in his dream he knew. But when he wakened up he could not remember what name she had told him to call her by, nor what words they had said to each other. He remembered only her beautiful form and face, the dress and the wreaths she wore, and the scent that was in her dress. The youth became so that he could think of nothing else except this maiden, and he wasted away because of this thought that put every other thought out of his mind. Then it came about that he would eat no food, and at last his fasting and his wasting thought brought him near his death.

But Ha-le-ma-no had a sister who had magical powers. Her name was Lae-ni-hi. She was travelling with her other sisters when she saw Ha-le-ma-no’s image in the sky, and she knew by that sign that her brother was near his death. Her sisters wept for Ha-le-ma-no when they saw that sign in the sky, but Lae-ni-hi uttered a magic spell, and through that spell Ha-le-ma-no was brought back to life.

Then she went and she visited her brother, and when she was with him she asked what it was that had brought him so near his death. “It is because of a maiden whom I dream of continually,” he told her, “that I was near my death, and that I may come near my death again.”

His sister asked him what the maiden was like, and he told her. “She is tall and very beautiful, and she seems to be a Princess. She has a wreath of hala on her head and a lei of lehua-blossoms around her neck. Her dress is of scented tapa, and it is dyed red.” “It is in Puna,” said his sister, “that the women wear the lehua lei, and have scented tapa for their dresses.”

Then she asked, “How do your meetings come about?” “When I fall asleep,” said Ha-le-ma-no, “the maiden comes to me. Then she tells me her name. But when I waken up I do not know the name I called her by.”

He slept, and his wise sister watched over him. In his sleep he again met the beautiful maiden. She heard him speak the dream-woman’s name. It was Kama. Soon afterwards Ha-le-ma-no wakened from his sleep.

“She is Kama, and of her I have heard much,” said his sister. “She is very beautiful. But no one is permitted to come into the house where she lives. And in a while, when she has reached the height of her beauty, she will be given in marriage to the King of Puna or the King of Hilo.” “Unless I can take her out of that forbidden house and away from these two Kings,” said Ha-le-ma-no, “I shall surely die.”

Then his sister promised him that she would strive to find some way of bringing him and Kama together. He ate his food because she made that promise, and he became well again. Then, that he might be able to follow her travels, she told him of the signs she would show. “If it rains here,” she said, “you will know that I have got as far as the Island of Mo-lo-kai. If the lightning flashes, you will know that I have reached the Island of Maui. If it thunders, I am at Kohala. And if you see red water flowing, I have reached Puna, where your Princess lives.”

Ha-le-ma-no’s sister started off. Soon it rained; soon the lightning flashed; soon thunder was heard; soon red water flowed. Lae-ni-hi had come to Puna.

When she came there she began to devise ways by which she could come to the Princess in her forbidden house. She caused the wind to blow. It aroused the sea from its repose, and the surf began to roll in on the beach of Kai-mu. That was a place where the people used to go for surf-riding. When they saw the surf coming in in great rollers they began to shout. They got their surf-boards and prepared to ride in on the rolling surf.

When Kama’s brother heard the shouting he came down on the beach. He saw the people riding the surf, and he went back to ask his sister’s permission to ride the surf like the others. She came down to the beach with him. And when she saw the surf coming in in such fine rollers she too became excited, and she longed to go riding it.

She allowed the first roller to come in until it reached the shore; she allowed the second roller to come in; then the third. And when that roller reached the shore she plunged in and swam out with her board to the place where the rollers began to curve up. When she reached that place she took the first roller that came along, and, standing on her surf-board, she rode in on it. The people watching shouted in admiration for her, so beautiful was her figure as she stood upon the board that came racing in with the rolling surf.

She rode the surf three times, and she was becoming more and more delighted with the sport, when the wind ceased to blow and the surf went down. Kama was left in shallow water. She looked down, and she saw a bright fish in the water. And her brother, who was looking towards her, saw the fish at the same time. He called out to her, “O my sister, take up and bring to me the bright fish that is in the shallow water.”

Now the fish was Lae-ni-hi, who had transformed herself. Kama put her hands under her and took her up. She put the fish into a calabash of water and gave her to her brother for a plaything. He carried the fish with him, and in that way Lae-ni-hi came into the house that was forbidden to all except the Princess and her brother.

In the middle of the night she changed back into a woman, and she stood above where the Princess lay. Kama wakened up and saw the strange woman near her. “Where are you from?” the Princess asked. “I am from near here.” “There is no woman who is like you anywhere near. Besides, no one belonging to this place would come into this house, for all know that it is forbidden.” “I have come from beyond the sea.” “Yes, now you are telling me the truth.”

Then Lae-ni-hi asked the Princess if she had ever met a youth in her dream. The Princess would not answer when she asked this. “If you would have me bring one to you, give me a wreath that you have worn, and a dress,” said Ha-le-ma-no’s sister. Kama gave her a wreath that was withered and one of her scented dresses.

Lae-ni-hi went back to her brother. She showed him the wreath and the dress that the Princess had worn. Upon seeing these things Ha-le-ma-no was sure that his sister had been with the dream-maiden, and he rose up to go at once to where she was.

But his sister would not let him go without her. And before she would go back to Puna she had toys and playthings made—toys and playthings that would take the fancy of Kama’s young brother. She had wooden birds made that would float on the waves; she had a toy canoe made and painted red; in it there were men in red to paddle it; she had other figures made that could stand upright; then she fixed up a colored and high-flying kite.

With the toys and playthings in their canoe, Ha-le-ma-no and Lae-ni-hi started off for Puna. And when they drew near the shore Ha-le-ma-no let the kite rise up. As it went up in the air the people on the beach saw it, and they shouted. The Princess’s brother heard the shouts, and he came out to see what was happening.

When he saw the kite he ran down to the beach. He saw a canoe with two persons in it, and one of them held the string of the kite. He called out to them, “Oh, let me have the thing that flies!” Lae-ni-hi then said to her brother, “Let the boy have it,” and he put the string of the kite into the boy’s hand. Then the birds were put into the water, and they floated on the waves. Then the toy canoe with its men in red was let down, and it floated on the water. The boy cried out, “Oh, let me have these things,” and Lae-ni-hi gave them to him.

And then she put along the side of the canoe the standing figures that she had brought. The boy saw them, and them he wanted too. Then Lae-ni-hi said to him, “Are you a favorite with your sister?” “I am,” the boy said; “she will do anything I ask her to do.” “Call her so that she comes near us, and I will give you these figures.” The boy then called her. “Unless you come here, sister,” he said, “I cannot get these playthings.”

Kama came near. Then Ha-le-ma-no saw that she had the very height of the maiden whom he had seen in his dreams. “Are you a favorite with your sister, and would she mind if you asked her to turn her back to us?” Lae-ni-hi said. The boy asked his sister to turn her back, and then Ha-le-ma-no saw how straight her back was. After this Lae-ni-hi said, “Are you a favorite with your sister, and would she mind if you asked her to show her face to us?” After that Kama stood facing the canoe, and Ha-le-ma-no saw that this was indeed the maiden of his dream.

Then they met, Ha-le-ma-no and Kama. The Princess knew him for the youth she had seen in her dreams. She let him take her by the hands and bring her into the canoe. When they were in the canoe Lae-ni-hi paddled it off. The people of Puna and the people of Hilo came in chase of them. But by the power that Lae-ni-hi had, the canoe was made to go so swiftly that those who followed were left far behind.

After this the two Kings said to each other: “Yes, we have sent much of what we owned to her and to her parents with the idea that one or the other of us would get her for his wife. Now she has been carried off from us. Let us make war upon those who have taken her, and punish them for having carried her off.”

And so the two Kings made war upon Ha-le-ma-no’s people. Ha-le-ma-no and Kama had to flee away. And after enduring much suffering and much poverty they came to the Island of Maui. There they lived; but instead of living in state and having plenty, they had to dig the ground and live as a farmer and a farmer’s wife.

Near where they lived there was a beach, and people used to go down to it for surf-riding. One day Kama went down to this beach. She took a board and went surf-riding. And when she was racing in on the surf she remembered how she had once lived as a Princess, and she remembered how Ha-le-ma-no had come and had taken her away, and how she had nothing now but a grass hut and the roots that she and her husband pulled out of the ground. And then she was angry with Ha-le-ma-no, and she longed to be back again in Puna.

When she finished surf-riding and came in on to the shore she saw that there were red canoes there—the canoes of a King. And then she saw Hua-a, the King of Puna. He came to her, and he took her by the hands. She went with him, leaving her husband, who was working in his fields. But in a while she was sorry for what she had done, and she left Hua-a. And after that Kama went wandering through the Islands.

Now when Ha-le-ma-no knew that his wife had left him, he grew so ill that again he was near his death. But again his sister saved him. Then, when he was well, Ha-le-ma-no told his sister that he would learn to be a fisherman, for he thought that if he were something else than a farmer Kama would come back to him.

His sister told him to learn to be a singer and a chanter of verses; she told him that, if he had that art, he would be most likely to win his wife back to him. Ha-le-ma-no made up his mind to learn the art of singing and of chanting verses.

When he was on his way to learn this art he passed by a grove at Ke-a-kui. He went within the grove, and he saw the mai-le vine growing on the ohia trees. Then he began to strip the vine from the trees and make wreaths of it. He was sitting down making the wreaths when he saw the top of the mountain Ha-le-a-ka-la, like a pointed cloud in the evening, with other clouds drifting about it. And when he looked upon that mountain he thought of the places where he and his wife had travelled. And as he was thinking of her, his wife, who had been wandering about that Island, came near where he was. She saw him and she knew him; she came and she stood behind him. And then Ha-le-ma-no, looking upon the mountain, was moved to chant these verses:

“I was once thought a good deal of, O my love! My companion of the shady trees. For we two once lived on the food from the long-speared grass of the wilderness. Alas, O my love! My love from the land of the Kau-mu-ku wind, As it comes gliding over the ocean, As it covers the waves of Papa-wai, For it was the canoe that brought us here. Alas, O my love! My love of the home where we were friendless, Our only friend being our love for one another. It is hooked, and it bites to the very inside of the bones.”

Kama was going to put out her hand to touch him, but, hearing him chant this, she thought that he was in such sorrow that he would never forgive her. She wept and she went away, leaving the place without speaking to him.

After that Ha-le-ma-no went on his way; he learned the art of singing and of chanting verses. Afterwards, when he was very famous, it happened that he was invited to a place where there were games and singing.

He came to that place; covered over with a mantle, he sat by himself, and he watched those who came in. Many people came in, and amongst them a woman who wanted to be a wife to Ha-le-ma-no—a woman of great riches. But as Ha-le-ma-no looked towards this woman, he saw sitting there, in all her beauty and her grace, his own wife Kama. They asked him to chant to them. Then he remembered how he and she had lived together and had wandered together in different places; and, remembering this, he chanted:

“We once lived in Hilo, in our own home, For we had suffered in the home that was not ours, For I had but one friend, myself. The streams of Hilo are innumerable, The high cliff was the home where we lived. Alas, my love of the lehua blossoms of Moku-pa-ne! The lehua blossoms that were braided with the hala blossoms, For our love for one another was all that we had. The rain fell only at Le-le-wi, As it came creeping over the hala trees at Po-mai-kai, At the place where I was punished through love. Alas, O my love! My love from the leaping cliffs of Pi-i-kea; From the waters of Wai-lu-ku where the people are carried under, Which we had to go through to get to the many cliffs of Hilo, Those solemn cliffs that are bare of people, Peopled by you and me alone, my love, You, my own love!”

And when she heard these verses Kama knew who the man was who chanted them. She bowed her head, and she chanted:

“Alas, thou art my bosom companion, my love! My companion of the cold watery home of Hilo. I am from Hilo, From the rain that pelts the leaves of the bread-fruit of Pi-i-honua; For we live at the bread-fruit trees of Malama. Love is shown by the tears, Love is the friend of my companion, My companion of the thick forests of Pana-ewa, Where you and I have trod, Our only fellow-traveller our love. Alas, O my companion, my love! My love of the cold, watery home of Hilo, The friendless home where you and I lived.”

And when she had chanted this, Kama looked towards Ha-le-ma-no, and she saw that forgiveness was in his eyes. They stood up then, and they joined each other. Then they went away together.

“You will surely see Hai-li, Hai-li where the blossoming lehua trees Are haunted by the birds, The o-o of the forest, Whose sweet notes can be heard at eventide.”

So they sang to each other as they went away together.

THE ARROW AND THE SWING.

Hi-ku lived on a peak of the mountain, and Ka-we-lu lived in the lowlands. Ka-we-lu was a princess, but at the time when she was in the lowlands she had no state nor greatness; she was alone except for some women who attended her. Hi-ku was a boy; he had a wonderful arrow that was named Pua-ne.

One day Hi-ku took his arrow and he went down towards the lowlands. He met some boys who were casting their arrows, and he offered to cast his against theirs. He cast his arrow; it went over the heads of a bald-headed man and a sightless man; it went over the heads of a lame man and a large-headed man; it went across the fields of many men, and it fell at last before the door of the girl Ka-we-lu.

Her women attendants brought the arrow to her. Ka-we-lu took it and hid it. Then Hi-ku came along. “Have any of you seen my arrow?” he said to the women attendants. “We have not seen it,” they said. “The arrow fell here,” said Hi-ku, “for I watched it fall.” “Would you know your arrow from another arrow?” asked the Princess from her house. “Know it! Why, my arrow would answer if I called it,” answered Hi-ku. “Call it, then,” said the Princess. “Pua-ne, Pua-ne,” Hi-ku called. “Here,” said Pua-ne the arrow. “I knew you had hidden my arrow,” said Hi-ku. “Come and find it,” said the Princess.

He went into her house to search for the arrow, and the Princess closed the door behind him. He found the arrow. He held the arrow in his hand, and he did not go, for when he looked around he saw so many beautiful things that he forgot what he had come for.

He saw beautiful wreaths of flowers and beautiful capes of feathers; he saw mats of many beautiful colors, and he saw shells and beautiful pieces of coral. And he saw one thing that was more beautiful than all these. He saw Ka-we-lu the Princess. In the middle of her dwelling she stood, and her beauty was so bright that it seemed as if many ku-kui were blazing up with all their light. Hi-ku forgot his home on the mountain peak. He looked on the Princess, and he loved her. She had loved him when she saw him coming towards her house; but she loved him more when she saw him standing within it, his magic arrow in his hand.

He stayed in her house for five days. Every day Ka-we-lu would go into one of the houses outside and eat with her attendants. But neither on the first day nor the second day, neither on the third day nor the fourth day, nor yet on the fifth day, did she offer food to Hi-ku, nor did she tell him where he might go to get it.

He was hungry on the second day, and he became hungrier and hungrier and hungrier. He was angry on the third day, and he became angrier and angrier. And why did the Princess not offer him any food? I do not know. Some say that it was because her attendants made little of him, saying that the food they had was all for people of high rank, and that it might not be given to Hi-ku, whose rank, they said, was a low one. Perhaps her attendants prevented her giving food to him, saying such things about him.

On the fifth day, when Ka-we-lu was eating with her attendants in a house outside, Hi-ku took up his arrow and went angrily out of the house. He went towards the mountain. Then Ka-we-lu, coming out of the house where her attendants were, saw him going. She ran up the side of the mountain after him. But he went angrily on, and he never looked backward towards the Princess or towards the lowlands that she lived in.

She went swiftly after him, calling to him as the plover calls, flying here and there. She called to him, for she deeply loved him, and she looked upon him as her husband. But he, knowing that she was gaining on him, made an incantation to hold her back. He called upon the mai-le vines and the i-e vines; he called upon the ohia trees and the other branching trees to close up the path against her. But still Ka-we-lu went on, struggling against the tangle that grew across her path. Her garments were torn, and her body became covered with tears and scratches. Still she went on. But now Hi-ku was going farther and farther from her. Then she sang to him aloud, so that he could not but hear:

“My flowers are fallen from me, And Hi-ku goes on and on: The flowers that we twined for my wreath. If Hi-ku would fling back to me A flower, since all mine are gone!”

He did not throw back a flower, nor did he call out a word to her as she followed him up the mountain ways. The vines and the branches held her, and she was not able to get through them. Then she raised her voice, and she sang to him again:

“Do you hear, my companion, my friend! Ka-we-lu will live there below: My flowers are lost to me now: Down, down, far down, I will go.”

Hi-ku heard what she sang. But he did not look back or make any answer. He kept on his way up the mountain-side. Ka-we-lu was left behind, entangled in the vines and the branches. Afterwards he was lost to her sight, and her voice could not reach him.

He went up to the peak of the mountain, and he entered his parents’ house. And still he was angry. But after a night his anger went from him. And then he thought of the young Princess of Kona, with her deep eyes and her youth that was like the gush of a spring. More and more her image came before him, and he looked upon it with love.

Now one day, when he was again making his way up the mountain-side, a song about himself and Ka-we-lu came into his mind. It was a song that was for Lo-lu-pe, the god who brings together friends who have been lost to each other.

“Hi-ku is climbing the mountain-ridge, Climbing the mountain-ridge. The branch hangs straggling down; Its blossoms, flung off by Lo-lu-pe, lie on the ground. Give me, too, a flower, O Lo-lu-pe, That I may restore my wreath!”

And singing this song he went up to his parents’ house.

Strangers were in the house. “Who are they, and what have they come for?” Hi-ku asked. “Ka-we-lu, the young Princess of Kona, is dead,” his parents told him, “and these people have come for timbers to build a house around her dead body.”

When Hi-ku heard this, he wept for his great loss. And then he left his parents and went seeking the god Lo-lu-pe, for whom he had made a song on his way up the mountain.

Now Lo-lu-pe was in the form of a kite, because he went through the air searching for things that people needed and prayed to him to find for them. And outside a wizard’s house Hi-ku saw the image of Lo-lu-pe, a kite that was like a fish, and with tail and wings. Hi-ku went and said his prayer to Lo-lu-pe, and then he let the kite go in the winds.

That night Lo-lu-pe came to him in his dream, and showed him where Ka-we-lu was; she had gone down into the world that Mi-lu rules over—the world of the dead that is below the ocean. And Lo-lu-pe, in his dream, told him how he might come to her, and how he might bring Ka-we-lu’s spirit back to the world of the living.