CHAPTER XXVII.

Legend of Kinau and Tuanoa: a Tale of the Sandwich Islands.

A heavy gloom was upon the minds of the people of Wauhoo in consequence of the recent death of their king, Hoapili. Melancholy filled their hearts; wailings and lamentations of various kinds were heard over all parts of the island. Every grade mourned for the regal victim of death; and men, women, and children were seen tearing their hair, wounding themselves with sharp-pointed weapons, tearing their flesh with sharks’ teeth, and breaking their own front teeth with stones, to convince each other of the acuteness of their sorrows; and, above all, they prepared, as was their usual custom on such events, to offer up to the Great Spirit five human beings as a sacrifice. Many a loving maiden, when she heard of the king’s death, felt a pang rush through her heart and a whirling through her brain as she thought of the youth who had won her affections.

On such occasions, it was customary for the eric, or chief of each district, to select a young man from that part of the country over which he had control, and to send him to the proper place as one of the victims to be immolated at the shrine of the deceased king. Thus there was a dreadful uncertainty in the minds of the whole people until the unfortunates were chosen; and there was no appeal from the will of the eric; so that, when the summons was made, there remained no hope for the unhappy chosen one.

In the village of Waikukii, of which Nahi was the eric, or chieftain, lived Tuanoa, a young man, and Kinau, his betrothed bride. They had resided near each other from their infancy, and, even in the early dawning of the mind and the affections, they were observed constantly together; and no doubt, at that time, there was interwoven with their young heartstrings the tender passion of love, that “grew with their growth and strengthened with their strength.” Tuanoa was a fine young man, much beloved by his neighbors. He was active and brave in the extreme, and he had performed many acts of prowess, which gave him a standing-place within the circle of the conquerors at a feast, or “hoola hoola;” and he was, withal, of a most kind and affectionate disposition, of which his friends and neighbors were well aware. Kinau, his beloved maiden, was the most beautiful girl in the village, and of good family and estate; besides which, she was the most esteemed tappa-maker in the whole island. None of her competitors could approach her genius, which was so frequently displayed in designing figures and ornaments to adorn her productions, so that her tappas (native cloths) exceeded in beauty and strength those of all others, and they were worn by the king and queen. Her disposition was of that rare and delightful description which finds pleasure in searching after the sorrows of others in order to relieve them, and blessing itself that it had the power to do so. With such a person, disposition, and possessions, we can not wonder that Kinau was much beloved, and that Tuanoa was so much envied by the spirited young men of the village. But they enjoyed no hope of gaining the object of their admiration, for she took every opportunity of expressing her undying love for Tuanoa, and he to her.

Notwithstanding all this, there had been an eye fixed long and ardently upon Kinau, and she was well aware of the fact, much to her sorrow; and many a burning tear, as it rolled over her beautiful cheek, awakened in Tuanoa’s breast a powerful feeling of regret, mingled with surprise at the unhappy change which had come over the mind of his beloved. How often did he entreat, in tenderest words, for the avowal of the cause, which never was fully given. Kinau full well knew that if Tuanoa were to be made aware of the fact, he would commit some rash act that would most probably hurl them both to destruction; and she left the whole to chance, hoping that soon a day would come when the dark cloud of anticipated misfortune would be dispelled, and the sunshine of her love again break forth strong and clear.

It was the eye of the powerful eric Nahi which had fallen on Kinau, and he had even sought a private interview with her, and declared his love; but she resolutely refused to listen to his advances a moment. “What!” said the haughty eric, “do you refuse to listen to the voice of Nahi, your chief? Daughter of my neighbor, tremble! Let tears as salt as the waters of the ocean fall quick and fast from thy earth-bound eye! Refuse to listen to the voice of Nahi, and the volcano of Waikukii shall consume the blood of Tuanoa, as the shark of the ocean devours the newly-hatched turtle.”

“Oh great Nahi,” answered Kinau, “suffer your neighbor’s daughter to return the love of Tuanoa, whose love, like mine, burns as the fire of the volcano, which the waters of the ocean can not quench.”

“Tremble!” exclaimed the eric, “daughter of Kuakini, and the beloved of Tuanoa. Go from the presence of Nahi, and let there be no more said.”

Kinau went from his presence with trembling limbs and a palpitating heart. She knew the disposition of Nahi; cruel and vindictive in the extreme, he spared nothing to obtain the object of his wishes. He had committed many crimes, for which he had often been reproved by the late king and his fellow erics. The people, also, were disgusted with his tyrannical conduct, and these things combined caused him to be more careful than he had been in the earlier part of his government. Kinau was well aware of this, and she therefore trusted that he would cease his importunities; but she dreaded his revenge, as she well knew that if an opportunity should ever present itself whereby he might injure her or Tuanoa, and escape the observation of the people from the apparent injustice of the act, he would seize upon it with avidity; and this was the cause of her dejection.

The king, Hoapili, had been dangerously ill for some days, and the active mind of Kinau saw the dreadful chasm which might be opened to receive her in the event of the king’s death. She knew that Nahi had the power of choosing one of the victims for the sacrifice, and the thought almost bereft her of her senses. She well knew that Tuanoa, the brave and beloved Tuanoa, would be sacrificed to the revenge of the cruel eric; and, under these trying circumstances, the constitution of Kinau evidently began to decline, much to the grief of her lover, who perceived his beautiful companion, like a lovely flower beset by the canker-worm, silently robbed of her beauty. He saw the devastation it committed, but could not discover its retreat. Kinau still kept the secret within her own breast.

One evening, as, to their minds, the sun was once more going to rest in the deep bosom of the ocean, the lovers reclined on the shelving and moss-covered rocks which were near to the habitation of Kinau, in the beautiful valley of Menoa. The broad-leaved banana waved around them, and fanned their cheeks with the sweet-scented evening air, when, just as the Pelé of Nuanu cast its deep shadow across the valley of her fathers, a distant cry of sorrow fell upon the ears of the unhappy pair. To Kinau’s mind the cause was revealed in an instant. “The king is gone!” shrieked the unhappy maid. “Oh, Tuanoa, let us fly; let us bury ourselves in the depths of the ocean, for death is for us also!” The extreme agitation of her mind robbed her of her senses; and as she lay, apparently without life, in the arms of her beloved and thunder-stricken Tuanoa, a number of their friends quickly approached the scene to render assistance, and to inquire the cause of the outcry.

“Neighbors,” exclaimed the bewildered Tuanoa, “my peace is broken; my beloved is no longer herself; the spirit of darkness has been here and stolen the light of her soul!” While they were using means to restore Kinau to her senses and to comfort Tuanoa, a band of persons approached, and proclaimed, amid loud wailings, that Hoapili the Good had given his last breath to the winds; and from out this mass of phrensied human beings rushed three men, with disordered dress and disheveled hair, with red streams of blood gushing from self-inflicted wounds, and approached Tuanoa. They immediately produced from under their torn tappas the fatal summons from the eric Nahi, which consisted merely of three dark-colored poisonous nuts, delineated with certain inscriptions and figures. Too well the brave Tuanoa knew their import, but he was helpless before them. They presented them to him with certain forms and ceremonies, and then, as if impatient for his heart’s best blood, leaped upon and bound him securely. Astonishment filled the minds of all his neighbors, who stood around Kinau, their hearts ready to burst with grief. They knew not the revengeful feelings which had actuated the hated eric to the choice of the best person in the village instead of the worst, as was the usual custom; for there was even a by-word among them, which was addressed to persons of bad repute, “Ah! you will serve for the fire—you will serve for the fire,” meaning that they would serve for the purpose for which Tuanoa had been taken. When the sounds of the phrensied multitude had passed away, and had left the valley of Menoa again to its solemn quietude, and there was only heard at intervals from out the group which still surrounded the bereft and senseless maiden the low murmur or the sorrowful exclamation for the departed king and the sorrows of the divided lovers, Kinau opened her discolored eyes, and shot them around the group, but saw not Tuanoa.

“Ah!” she exclaimed, “half of my soul has expired. Friends and neighbors, go; stay not with Kinau; the sun no longer shines upon her tarro-patches;[6] the water of the mountain has also turned from their roots, and has fallen into the hands of Nahi.”

Her kind neighbors did all in their power to comfort her in her great affliction, and then left her to the care of her aged parents. Nature soon overcame the infirm pair with sleep, and Kinau left her home, never more to return except with her beloved Tuanoa.

The past few months had altered the lovely Kinau very much. Her features were shrunken and distorted; her hair torn and loose; her dark eyes, rolling and flashing, betokened the storm within; her heaving bosom gave proof of the agitated heart; but her step was firm, and she stood erect, as if, with the last effort of a shattered frame, she had determined to devote all her remaining strength to one great purpose. She was convinced that there remained no hope from human means for the restoration of her beloved Tuanoa, and she therefore determined to visit the enchanter Kelkuewa, a thing seldom or scarcely ever attempted before, even by the bravest of the erics. But Kinau, feeling strong in her virtuous cause, feared not, and dared destruction in its wildest forms. Kelkuewa, the enchanter, resided in a glen at the bottom of the Pelé of Nuanu, and near the entrance of which the enchanted waterfall of two thousand feet in descent finished its perpendicular career. Here was the supposed habitation of a lizard as large as a man, which the tradition of the islanders claims as having resided there since the Flood.

Kinau, with firm determination, commenced her task. Passing alone, away from her friends and neighbors, over the dark plains in the valley of Menoa, she soon began to ascend the steep and rugged mountain of Nuanu, and, after excessive exertion, reached its summit. She cast her wild eyes around, and saw the dark ocean which encompasses Wauhoo; she could hear its distant roar as it broke with violence on the weather side of the island; the chilly and unruly blast of the night-wind almost forced her slender figure from the pointed rock on which she, for a moment, rested; her loose hair lashed her burning forehead with its violence. Behind her was the valley of Menoa, in which she had met the last look of her beloved Tuanoa; before her was the valley of Nuanu, four thousand feet in depth. Midway dashing its white foam, she could just observe the enchanted stream gushing out of a small division in the rocks, and falling two thousand feet into the valley below, at the bottom of which the enchanter resided. Still determined to visit him or die in the attempt, she began the fearful descent of the Pelé of Nuanu, and after great difficulties—now clinging to the branches of some friendly tree, and now sliding in various positions—she succeeded in reaching the source of the waterfall. Almost overcome with fatigue and contending emotions, she here rested. A torrent of tears relieved her aching heart, and she again commenced the arduous task of descending, by the side of the foaming stream, over slippery rocks and sharp craggy points, her feet torn and bleeding, her heart almost broken, and her weary frame nearly exhausted. Her disordered imagination, blinded by her tears, saw visions of darkness and despair hanging from every rock; and the murmuring of the trees, as they were moved by the wind, appeared like the voices of her foes imploring for her destruction. But still Kinau wended her way—yes, the tender yet powerful passion of love supported her—the passion of love in woman, invincible love, which has caused the “change of empires and the loss of worlds,” has “inspired heroism and subdued avarice.” She succeeded in reaching the glen, where she bathed her bleeding feet for a moment in the waters of the cascade. The moon, which had before been hidden behind dark clouds, now peeped through an opening in them, as if anxious to look upon the devoted girl and admire her fortitude. The large gray owl, which inhabits the valleys, flapped his broad wings over her head as he moused among the rocks; and the quick-flying bat darted in and out of his caves, as if disturbed by the intruder. Lifting up her eyes, Kinau beheld a tall old man descending the Pelé. Quickly he took advantage of each jutting point of rock to secure his footsteps, and he descended with apparent ease to the spot where Kinau rested. Long gray hair fell over his shoulders, and he thus addressed the maiden:

“Daughter of Kuakini, and the beloved of Tuanoa, I am he whom you seek. I have followed you from the valley of Menoa; I have watched and feel astonished at your strength, fortitude, and love. I know the spirit of darkness has come over you when the gladness of your heart was taken from you. Your love for the brave Tuanoa is like the mountain of Nuanu, fixed forever, and can not change; it is clear and bright as the water that falls from the Pelé; it is like the fire of the volcano of Waikukii, which is unquenchable. Daughter of Kuakini, arise! go to the valley of thy fathers, and rest in the bosom of thy neighbors; for I have seen a Great Spirit, who, before to-morrow’s sun reacheth the valley of Nuanu, shall come and save thy Tuanoa from the blood-consuming fire.”

“Oh great Kelkuewa,” said Kinau, “your words are like water to the parched tarro; they are like the waters of the ocean to the expiring fish, which the fisherman returns to its element. I feel my heart lightened; the cold hand of the spirit of darkness has moved from my heart. Oh Kelkuewa,” continued the enraptured girl, “they say you have no daughter. I will be your daughter; I will make your tappas; I will water your tarro-patches, though I bring the water from the other side of the mountain of Nuanu.” The enchanter seized the hand of Kinau, assisted her over the Pelé, and saw her descend to the valley of her fathers.

The morn of the day on which the tragedy was to be ended appeared. Before the sun had risen, thousands of the islanders were moving toward the plains of Whyteetee, on which the immolation of the victims was to take place. Lamentations were heard over the whole island. The plains of Whyteetee were soon covered with countless multitudes, and five immense fires were lighted. As the sun rose, the odor from the burning sandal-wood perfumed the whole of Wauhoo. In an inclosure about one hundred feet long and fifty from front to back, the front wall of which was about six feet high, and the back about twelve, formed of loose stones or masses of lava piled upon each other, and situated upon a rise of ground at the end of the plain, facing the sea, the five victims were placed.

On a mass of rocks about one hundred feet high, which rise abruptly out of the plains, and command a view for a considerable distance around, sat the princes and chiefs, with all the great men of the island. Among them Nahi was observed in a conspicuous situation, watching the proceedings with great earnestness, for he had heard that Kinau had visited the enchanted glen, and he had heard also of the prophecy of Kelkuewa. Indeed, it was upon the lips of every one, and many hoped that the prophecy would be fulfilled. The more noble of the erics and people began to look upon these cruel exhibitions with disgust, and to long for a pretext for abolishing them. They saw the abuse, if we may so call it, to which it was liable, from the base conduct of Nahi, and yet, being a national custom, it was hard to abolish.

The proceedings of the assembly soon commenced. The first victim, who happened to be an abandoned wretch, was led out of the inclosure by the priests, and thrust among the multitude. There were plenty of the wild and infuriated to commence the attack, by hurling stones and beating the unfortunate victim with any weapon with which they might have provided themselves for the occasion, and he was hunted to and fro like a wild beast, until the spark of life was nearly extinct; then he was hurled upon the funeral pile, amid the wild exclamations of the savage throng, while “liquid fire curled round his limbs, and to his hissing bones and marrow clung.”

Kinau, surrounded by her kindred, was seen in an agitated state, frequently looking toward the Pelé of Nuanu, and wondering how the Great Spirit would interpose to save her beloved Tuanoa. Sometimes, full of hope, her countenance would brighten, and she appeared to possess new life; then again she would doubt the enchanter’s successful interference, and her spirits would sink. Thus was her gentle bosom torn with a thousand conflicting emotions. Despair for a moment shadowed her invincible spirit with his dark and death-hovering wings, and the beloved Kinau felt that she would willingly sacrifice her own life to save that of her lover. Tuanoa observed his adored girl with those acute feelings which the pencil can not paint nor the pen justly describe. He was bound to the insensate stake, which heard not the heart’s flutter or the despairing sigh—which felt not the tremulous shake of the confined but powerful limb that strove in vain to break from its moveless grasp. At last, despairing, he hung from his confinement, apparently a lifeless being.

Another unfortunate but criminal victim was now given to the infuriated multitude and sacrificed; and the next was to be Tuanoa, the beloved and innocent Tuanoa, who was insensible now from the mental anguish he had suffered. To die so young, and such a horrid death—to go and leave his Kinau behind—this was more than he could bear, and he fainted from misery. The brave maiden could no longer bear this uncertainty. She rushed through the crowd of her kindred—scaled the walls of the inclosure—glided between the guards with a supernatural quickness, and encircled with her devoted arms her beloved. But the guards and the priests quickly proceeded to separate them; and now they unbound, and were about to thrust the bewildered Tuanoa among the savage group who thirsted for his blood. The gate of the inclosure was thrown open; already the savage hand was raised to smite with deadly violence; already the maddened and phrensied eyes of fanatic men were gleaming with murderous excitement to grace the royal death; the impatient, loyal crowd, heap upon heap, swayed to and fro in their eagerness to slay one of themselves—one, too, who had been formerly beloved by them, and for whom they would have made great sacrifices, but now hated and condemned; and they impatiently thirsted for his blood.

But the enchanter at this moment appeared among the people. In a loud voice he commanded their attention, and pointed to an object which was seen upon the ocean at a great distance. All eyes were instantly directed, in great wonder, toward it. During the confusion, a stone was hurled by an unseen hand, which struck Nahi, and killed him in an instant; but the event scarcely received attention. The object to which the enchanter still pointed approached the island rapidly. It appeared larger every moment, and in a short time its color was distinguishable. Fear and curiosity increased, for never had the people witnessed such a sight before. At times it appeared of an immense breadth, with wide-spreading wings, and in a moment or two would appear quite narrow, but of great height. Occasionally its apparent wings shook; then anon the whole mass appeared to stoop to the surface of the ocean. Swayed by an irresistible impulse, princes, erics, and people went down to the edge of the sea. The liberated victims, surrounded by their kindred, followed. The prophecy was fulfilled. They were liberated by common consent. Never can poet or painter describe or represent the two enraptured lovers, as they appeared walking together on the beach, having but “one soul in a divided body.”

Reader! the “Great Spirit” which so rapidly approached, and was bringing to those islanders light to disperse their darkness, humanity and religion to abolish their cruelties, the arts and sciences to banish their ignorance, was the _great spirit_ of the immortal navigator COOK, who had just discovered those fertile islands, and whose ship had been observed by the enchanter on the previous evening from the heights of the Pelé of Nuanu.

[6] Shallow ponds of water, in which the _tarro_ is cultivated with great care, similar to those in which rice is grown.