Part 22

Sighting Molokai, they thought of landing to replenish their water-calabashes; but as the coast was rugged and the wind unfavorable, a blast of the trumpet was blown to Kuluiau, the goddess of rain. Instantly there was a commotion in the heavens. Black clouds began to gather around them, and they had barely time to arrange their kapa sheds and funnels before the rain poured down in torrents and filled their calabashes to overflowing.

Believing the Kiha-pu would bring them anything they desired, and returning thanks for nothing received, when off the northern coast of Molokai, near Kaulapapa, they sounded a call to Laamaomao, god of the winds, who since the days of Moikeha, more than two centuries before, had occupied a cave on that island. Enraged at an appeal for favoring winds from such a source, Laamaomao opened the mouth of the ipu in which he kept the winds imprisoned, and turned it toward the sea. A few minutes after a hot, fierce hurricane struck the canoes of the miscreants, upsetting two of them and tearing their sails in tatters. The chief had sufficient presence of mind to call through the trumpet for Maikahulipu, the god who assists in righting upset canoes, and the foundered boats were soon restored to their proper positions and partially freed from water. But there was no abatement in the violence of the wind. For more than a day and a night the canoes were driven before it almost with the speed of a shark, until finally their drenched and wearied occupants heard before them through the darkness the sound of breakers against a rock-bound shore. The danger was imminent, for paddles were useless. Raising the trumpet to his lips, the chief called for Uhumakaikai, a powerful fish-god. No response came, and the cliffs frowned before him as he hastily trumpeted for Apukohai, another fish-god of Kauai, whose acts were usually cruel and malicious. The spray of shattered waves against the rocks began to wet the canoes, when they were seized by a force unseen, drawn away from the cliffs, swept around a northward point, and flung by the waves upon a sandy beach not far from Koloa.

Thus escaping with their lives, the party traveled overland and joined a band of congenial spirits in the mountains back of Waimea, where they remained until they were driven from the island for their misdemeanors. Leaving Kauai, they crossed the channel, and, after moving from place to place for some years, finally took up their abode in a secluded spot near Waolani, on the island of Oahu.

In the possession of the Kiha-pu, Ika, the chief of the band, who claimed it as his individual property, became cruel and dictatorial to his companions. He esteemed himself little less than a god, and demanded a full half of all the earnings and pilferings of his associates. As the Kiha-pu was the cause of this exaction, one of the friends of Ika, not daring to destroy or purloin the shell, resolved to despoil it of its magic powers. To this end, with great offerings of pigs and fowls, he consulted a priest of Lono at Waianae, and was told that a tabu mark, placed somewhere on the shell with the approval of Lono, would accomplish what was desired. As the priest alone could place the mark upon the shell, he consented to visit Waolani, and remain in the neighborhood until the trumpet could be brought to him. Everything having been arranged, one evening Ika, without great persuasion, was made drunk with awa, when the shell was stolen and conveyed to the priest, who, with a point of flint, hastily scratched near the outer rim a pea mark, or tabu cross, meantime burning incense and chanting a low prayer to Lono.

"Can its powers be restored?" inquired the friend of Ika, as the tabued trumpet was returned to him.

"Not while the tabu mark remains," replied the priest; "not until--but no matter; its magic voices are silent now."

Before Ika awoke from his drunken stupor the Kiha-pu had been restored to its usual place of deposit.

The next morning Ika partook of more awa, threw over his shoulders a cape of red--a color sacred to the gods--suspended the Kiha-pu from his neck with a cord of human hair, and went proudly forth to receive the homage of his companions. But they refused to accord him the honors to which he imagined he was entitled, and in his wrath he raised the trumpet to his lips to blast them with a proclamation of his superiority. A natural and monotonous sound issued from the shell. He regarded it for a moment with amazement, then replaced it to his lips and poured his breath into it with the full force of his lungs; but its many voices were silent; its thunder-tones had been hushed.

He hastily re-entered his hut to escape the comments of his companions, and discovered, after repeated trials, that the Kiha-pu had lost its magic powers, and in his hands was nothing more than a simple shell. Not doubting that it had been deprived of its virtues through supernatural agencies, Ika visited a renowned kilo, or wizard, living near Waialua, taking with him the Kiha-pu, which was enclosed in a pouch of kapa, that it might not be observed. The age of the kilo was a hundred and twenty-four years, and he was totally blind, subsisting upon the bounty of those who sought his counsel. Finding his hut after some difficulty, Ika presented him with a roll of kapa which he had brought with him from Waolani, and a pig which he had stolen in the valley below, and implored him to ascertain, if possible, the cause of the disenchantment of the Kiha-pu. Taking the trumpet from Ika, the kilo passed his wrinkled hands over it for some minutes, and then retired with it behind a screen of mats, leaving his visitor under the eye of an old crone, who had admitted him without a word and seated herself beside the opening.

It was a long time before the kilo reappeared, and it was then to inform Ika that little could be learned concerning the Kiha-pu. He had employed every means known to his art, and finally appealed to Uli, the supreme god of sorcery, when the reluctant answer came that the Kiha-pu had been silenced by a power greater than his. "I dare not inquire further," said the kilo, returning the trumpet.

"Will its voices ever return to it? Will your cowardice allow you to answer that question?" inquired Ika, in a sneering tone.

"Yes," replied the kilo, with an effort restraining his wrath and speaking calmly--"yes; its voices will be heard again in Hawaii, among the hills that have sent back their echoes."

Ika would have questioned the kilo farther, but the old woman rose and pointed toward the door, and with a look of disappointment he replaced the shell in its pouch of kapa and sullenly left the hut.

Returning to Waolani, Ika abandoned his lofty pretensions and mingled again with his companions on terms of comparative equality. This restored him to their friendship, and, remembering the words of the kilo, he prevailed upon a majority of them to accompany him to Hawaii. Stealing boats at Waikiki, the party set sail for Hawaii, and the fourth day landed at Kawaihae, in the district of Kohala. There they abandoned their canoes, or exchanged them for food, and in parties of four or five proceeded across the island by way of Waimea, and soon after took possession of their old quarters in the mountains back of Waipio, after an absence of eight years.

In all these years what had become of the cocoa-tree planted by Kiha, with the coming of the first-fruits of which the magic trumpet was to be restored by a being without hands and wearing neither mantle nor maro? For seven years he had watched and nurtured its growth, staying it against wind and storm, and guarding its every leaf and stem. It was a vigorous and shapely tree, and its leaves were above the touch of a battle-spear in the hands of the king. But no signs of fruit appeared, and the heart of Kiha was troubled with the thought that the tree might be barren, and that the gods had mocked him. The seventh year of its growth had come and was going, when one morning he descried among its branches three young cocoanuts, scarcely less in size than his clenched fist. He thought it strange that he had not seen them before, and then wondered that he had seen them at all, for they were closely hidden among the leaves. But there they were, to his great joy, and he watched them day by day until they attained an age and size at which they might be eaten. He then sent for the high-priest, and, pointing to the fruit, said:

"Behold the fruit of the tree planted by the hands of Kiha. At the rising of the sun to-morrow I shall eat of it. Will the gods fulfil their promise?"

"O chief!" replied the priest, "I do not see the means; but you planted the tree; the fruit is fit for food; eat of it to-morrow, if you will. The gods are all-powerful!"

At daylight the next morning the fruit was taken from the tree, and the king drank the milk of the three cocoanuts, and ate of the meat of all, first giving thanks to the gods. He then threw himself upon his kapa-moe until the sun was well up in the heavens, when he rose and went forth to meet his chief adviser, as was his daily custom, and learn from his spies and other confidential officers what of importance had transpired since the day before. The only information that seemed to interest him was that a lawless band of strange men--apparently the same who infested the neighborhood some years before--had reoccupied the marshy forest in the mountains back of Waipio, and would doubtless become a scourge to the planters in the upper part of the valley.

"It was through such a band that I was robbed of the Kiha-pu," thought the king. "It may be that the very same have returned and brought back with them the sacred trumpet. The ways of the gods are mysterious."

Communicating the thought to no one, Kiha despatched a discreet messenger to reconnoitre the camp of the marauders, and in the afternoon secretly visited the temple of Paakalani, where he learned through the kaulas that the Kiha-pu was somewhere on the island of Hawaii.

The sun was sinking in the west when the messenger returned, with the information that the chief of the demon band was Ika, who, with many of his followers, had been seen in and around Waipio many years before.

These tidings had scarcely reached the ears of the king when a tumult was discovered at the main gate of the palace enclosure, and a few minutes after an old man, with his arms bound behind his back, and followed by a strange-looking dog, was being dragged by a crowd of officers and others toward the royal mansion, in front of which Kiha was sitting, surrounded by a number of distinguished chiefs and titled retainers. The man was well advanced in years, and was clad in a maro and kihei, or short mantle of kapa, while from his neck was suspended an ivory charm rudely carved into the form of a dog's foot. He was above the average height, and around his stooped shoulders hung a tangled mass of grizzled hair. His beard was unshorn, and from beneath his shaggy brows peered a pair of small and malignant-looking eyes. He glowered savagely at his captors, and resented anything that seemed like unnecessary force in urging him along. The dog was a large, misshapen brute, with human-looking ears and a bluish coat of bristling hair. It had a long, swinish tail, and one of its eyes was white and the other green. The animal followed closely and sullenly at its master's heels, uttering an occasional low growl when too roughly jostled by the crowd.

When within a hundred paces of the mansion the officers halted with their prisoner, and an attendant was despatched by the king to ascertain the cause of the excitement. Learning that the officers were desirous of bringing before him a man suspected of pilfering from the royal estates, the king consented to listen to the accusation in person, and ordered the prisoner to appear in his presence. Approaching, the old man prostrated himself at the feet of Kiha, and the dog, giving voice to a dismal howl, crouched upon the earth, laid his nose between his paws, and bent his green eye upon the king. Kiha regarded both for a moment with an amused expression; but there was something demoniac in the appearance of the dog, and after catching a glimpse of it he could scarcely remove his gaze from the green eye that glared upon him.

Commanding one of the officers to speak for himself and the rest, that the matter might be briefly determined, the king was informed that the prisoner was a native of the island of Kauai, and some months before had landed with his dog in the district of Kau; that he was an awa thief and had trained his fiendish-looking dog to do his pilfering; that the animal possessed the intelligence of a kahuna and the instincts of a demon, and could almost steal the mantle from a man's shoulders without detection; that the prisoner had been driven for his thefts from Kau to Kona, and thence to Hamakua; that he had been living for some months past at Kikaha, where his dog, Puapua-lenalena, as he was called, had become noted for his thefts; that awa had been missed by the luna of one of the king's estates in the upper part of the valley; that the night before a watch had been placed, and the demon dog had been detected in the act of leaving the royal plantation with a quantity of awa in his mouth; that the animal had been followed to the hut of his master, who was found asleep under the influence of awa, which the dog had doubtless ground with his teeth into an intoxicating drink, since on being aroused the man denied that he had either stolen or chewed it; and, finally, after some resistance, the prisoner had been brought to Waipio, followed by his dog, and was now before the king for examination and sentence.

After the officer had concluded his account of the misdemeanors of the prisoner, by permission of the king the old man rose to his feet, and was about to speak in his own defence when Kiha, turning his gaze with an effort from the green eye of the dog, abruptly inquired:

"What manner of animal is this, and how came he in your possession?"

"O king!" replied the prisoner, "the dog was given to me by my uncle, a distinguished kaula of Kauai, and it is believed that he was cast up from the sea."

"Enough!" exclaimed the king, with a gesture of impatience. "Take them both to the temple of Paakalani," he continued, addressing a chief with a yellow cape and helmet, "and there await my coming."

The prisoner and his green-eyed companion were removed to the temple, and in the dusk of the evening Kiha proceeded thither alone. Entering the royal retreat with which the heiau enclosure was provided, he sent for the high-priest, and soon after for the prisoner and his dog. They were conducted to the apartment, and the door was closed, a kukui torch held at another opening throwing a glare of light into the room.

The king sat for a few breaths in silence, while the priest was scanning the prisoner and his strange companion. Finally, pointing to the dog, Kiha turned to the priest and said:

"A wonderful animal--a being without hands, and wearing neither mantle nor maro!"

"True," returned the priest, recalling the promise of the gods; "and should he be the messenger, his services must not be slighted."

"Listen," said the king, addressing the prisoner. "I have faith that this animal can do me a service. In a marshy forest in the mountains back of Waipio a band of conjuring outlaws have lately found a retreat. A magic shell of great power, stolen from me many years ago, is now in the possession of some one of them--probably of Ika, their chief. Can you prompt this animal to recover the Kiha-pu?"

"Perhaps," replied the prisoner.

"Then do so," returned the king, "and I will not only give you the life you have forfeited, but will see that you are provided henceforth with all the awa you have an appetite to consume."

With these words of the king the dog rose to his feet, uttered a growling sound which seemed to be half-human, and approached the door.

"No instructions are required," said the old man; "he understands, and is ready to start upon his errand."

"Then send him forth at once," returned the king; "the night is dark and will favor him."

The door was opened, and like a flash the dog sprang from the room, leaped the closed gate of the outer wall, and in the darkness dashed up the valley toward the mountains.

"I will await his return here," said the king, looking inquiringly toward the prisoner.

"He will be back a little beyond the middle of the night," replied the old man.

"With the Kiha-pu?" inquired the king.

"Either with or without it," was the answer.

Leaving the prisoner in the custody of the high-priest and his attendants, Kiha walked out into the starlight. His face was feverish, and the kiss of the trade-winds was cool. The heiau of Paakalani was a puhonua, or sacred place of refuge--one of the two on the island of Hawaii--and he wondered whether, under any circumstances, he could properly demand the life of the prisoner were he to claim the protection of the temple. Had he voluntarily sought refuge in the puhonua, there would have been no doubt; but as he was forcibly taken there by royal order, his right to exemption from seizure was a question of doubt.

Dismissing the subject with the reflection that the life or death of the prisoner was of little consequence, Kiha strolled toward the inner temple and reverently bowed before an image of Lono near the entrance. Remains of recent sacrifices still smelt rank upon the altar, and scores of gods of almost every grade and function looked grimly down upon him from the walls. Dim lights were seen in some of the quarters of the priests constructed against the outer wall of the enclosure, and a torch was burning at the main entrance.

As the evening wore on the silence of the heiau was broken only by the hooting of the sacred owls from the walls of the inner temple, and Kiha threw himself at the foot of a pepper-tree, and was soon wafted out into the boundless sea of dreams.

After leaping the gate of the heiau the dog started up the valley with the speed of the wind. As he swept past the thatched huts in his course, those who caught sight of him for an instant were sure that they beheld a demon, and the dogs that pursued speedily returned, to crouch whiningly behind their masters.

Reaching the upper end of the valley, the dog followed an ascending trail through a steep ravine coming down from the northward, and in a short time, considering the distance traveled, stood snuffing the air at the verge of the forest within which the outlaws had found a temporary refuge. Distant lights were seen flickering through occasional openings among the trees and tangled undergrowth, and at intervals strange voices, as if of song and merriment, were heard.

For some time the dog remained motionless, and then stealthily crept into the forest. What form he assumed, how he learned of the hiding-place of the Kiha-pu, and through what means he escaped discovery, are details which tradition has left to conjecture. It is told only that he succeeded in finding in the unguarded hut of Ika, seizing in his mouth, and escaping undiscovered from the forest with, the sacred trumpet.

So adroitly had the theft been committed that it seemed that the dog would surely escape without detection; but in plunging down the steep ravine through which he had finally ascended to the forest, he dropped the Kiha-pu, breaking from the rim a piece embracing the small pea or tabu mark of silence placed upon it by the kaula of Waianae. In an instant the liberated voices of the trumpet poured forth in a blast which echoed through the hills and started the night-birds to screaming.

The sound was heard by the reveling demi-demons of the forest, and, ascertaining that the shell had been stolen, they poured down the mountain-side in pursuit of the plunderer. Their speed was something more than human, and the darkness did not seem to impede their steps. From time to time the voice of the trumpet came back to them; but it grew fainter and fainter in the distance, until they finally abandoned the chase as hopeless, Ika himself suggesting that the Kiha-pu, with its voices in some manner restored to it, had taken wings and escaped.

The king slept under the pepper-tree until past the middle of the night, when the hooting of an owl almost at his ear awoke him, and he rose and re-entered the royal retreat, where he found the high-priest with a number of his attendants, and the prisoner intently listening at the half-open door.

Kiha was about to inquire the time of the night--for he had neglected to look at the stars before entering--when a noise was heard at the outer gate. The prisoner stepped forward and threw back the door, and the next moment the dog sprang into the room, laid the Kiha-pu at the feet of the king, and then dropped dead beside it.

The overjoyed king raised and placed the trumpet to his lips, and with a swelling heart roused the people of Waipio with a blast such as they had not heard for more than eight years. Liberating the prisoner, who was grief-stricken at the death of his dog, Kiha ordered that he henceforth be fed from the royal table.

Winding another blast upon the trumpet, the king returned to the palace, around which were congregated hundreds of excited people. Among them were chiefs in yellow capes and helmets, and warriors armed with spear and battle-axe. Summoning his alii-koa, or principal military leader, a brief council was held, followed by the sending forth of the plumed aids of the king, and the speedy concentration within the palace grounds of a picked body of three or four hundred warriors armed with short javelins and knives for close encounter.

The little army moved rapidly but noiselessly up the valley, and at early daylight surrounded and attacked the camp of the demon band. A desperate hand-to-hand conflict ensued; but the miscreants were overpowered, and all slain with the exception of Ika and two others, who were reserved alive for the altar.

On the evening following, in the midst of great rejoicing, the Kiha-pu was rededicated to Lono, and Ika and his companions were slain without the walls and sacrificed, with a host of other offerings, in the temple of Paakalani.

II.

The reign of Liloa was as peaceful as that of Kiha, his distinguished father. He did not lack ability, either as a civil or military leader, however his pleasant and mirthful ways may have impressed to the contrary. He was fond of good living, fine apparel and comely women; yet he held the sceptre firmly, and was prompt to punish wrong-doing in his chiefs or infringement of any of his prerogatives. Nevertheless, his heart was kind, and he frequently forgave the humble who had crossed his shadow, and the thoughtless who had violated the spirit of a royal tabu.

As he was distracted neither by domestic disturbance nor wars with neighboring kings, Liloa made frequent visits to the several districts of the island, sometimes with an imposing retinue of chiefs and retainers, but quite as often with no more than two or three trusty attendants. Sometimes he traveled incognito, visiting suspected district chiefs to observe their methods of government, and, when occasion for rebuke occurred, to their great confusion making himself known to them.