Part 23

Near the close of the year 1460, before the annual festival of Lono, which inaugurated the beginning of a new year, Liloa went with a large and brilliant party, in gaily-decked double canoes carrying the royal colors, from Waipio to Koholalele, in Hamakua, to assist in the reconsecration of the old temple of Manini, the restoration and enlargement of which had just been completed. He took with him his high-priest, Laeanui, a band of musicians and dancers, and his chief navigator and astrologer, and the heiau was consecrated with unusual display. Laeanui recited the kuawili--the long prayer of consecration--and twenty-four human victims were laid upon the altar.

Ordering the party to return in the double canoes without him, Liloa resolved to make the journey overland to Waipio with a single attendant; and it is quite probable that it was something more than accident that prompted the royal traveler to deviate from the shortest path to Waipio, and tarry for some hours in a pleasant grove of palms near Kealakaha, where dwelt with her old father one of the most beautiful maidens in all Hamakua.

The name of the girl was Akahia-kuleana. She was tall and slender, and her dark hair, which rippled down in wavelets, shrouded her bare shoulders like a veil. Her eyes were soft, and her voice was like the music of a mountain rivulet, and when her bosom was bedecked with leis of fragrant blossoms it seemed that they must have grown there, so much did she appear to be a part of them.

Although in humble life, Akahia was really of royal blood, since six generations back her paternal ancestor was Kalahuamoku, a half-brother to Kalapana, from whom Liloa drew his strain. She knew the rank of her royal visitor, and felt honored that he should praise her beauty; and when he kissed her lips at parting he left with her his maro and the ivory clasp of his necklace, at the same time whispering words in her ear which in a generation later transferred the sceptre of Hawaii from the direct line to humbler but worthier hands.

Before the trade-winds came and went again the gentle Akahia, unwedded, became a mother. At first her father frowned upon the child; but it was a strong and healthy boy, who looked as if he might some day wield with uncommon vigor a laau-palau if not a battle-axe, and he soon became reconciled to the presence of the little intruder. In those days, it is proper to mention, such events occasioned but little comment, and entailed upon the mother neither social ostracism nor especial reproach.

The child was named Umi, and, to give it a stronger protector than herself, Akahia became the wife of her cousin Maakao, a strong, rough man, who had always shown great affection for her, and who felt honored in becoming the husband of one who might have taken her choice among many.

The father of Akahia cultivated a kalo patch larger than his necessities really required, and was abundantly supplied with pigs, poultry, yams, bananas, cocoanuts and breadfruit, which he was at all times enabled to exchange for fish, crabs, limpets and other products of the sea.

All land titles at that time vested either in the sovereign or the chiefs subject to him, and the producer was frequently required to return to his landlord a full third or half of all his labor yielded. Sometimes the land-owner was more liberal with his tenants; but quite as often he took to the extent of his need or greed, with no one to challenge the injustice of his demands.

But the bit of land occupied by the father of Akahia was part of a large tract reserved for the benefit of the king, and because of the alii blood with which he was credited, but of which he made no boast, the rent he returned was merely nominal.

When Umi was about ten years of age the father of Akahia died, leaving his little estate to his daughter. She had two brothers living, both older than herself. But the cultivation of the soil was not congenial to them, and, as there had been no wars of moment in Hawaii for nearly two generations, one of them, who had been a dreamer from his youth, had been inducted into the service of the gods by the high-priest Laeanui, to whom Liloa had given in perpetuity the possession of Kekaha, in the district of Kona, and was otherwise influential; while the second brother, on reaching manhood, had gone with spear and sling to Maui, and risen to distinction in the military service of the moi of that island.

So Akahia and her husband continued to occupy unmolested the old plantation. But the agents who collected the revenues of the king were less liberal with Maakao than they had been with the father of his wife, and he was compelled to make the same rent returns as other royal tenants. Nor this alone. A portion of their land had been given to another, embracing a little grove of hawane or cocoa-trees, some of which, it was averred, had been planted by the stewards of Pili nearly four centuries before, and their depleted stocks of pigs and fowls ceased to be the envy of their neighbors.

This harsh dealing with Akahia and her husband, it is needless to say, was done without the knowledge of the king; but they feared to complain, lest they might be despoiled of the little left them, and deemed it prudent to suffer in silence rather than arouse the wrath of an agent of whose powers they knew not the extent.

There were other little mouths to feed besides Umi's, and, as the years came and went with their scant harvests, Maakao became more and more discontented; but, with a hope in her heart of which Maakao knew nothing, Akahia toiled on without complaint. Year by year she saw Umi developing into manhood, and noted that in thought, habit and bearing he was different from others.

Umi loved his mother and was not unkind to Maakao; but he spent much of his time by the sea-shore where the great waves thundered against the cliffs, and in the hills where, among the ohia and sandal trees, the trade-winds whispered to him of the unknown. He would climb to the crown of the tallest cocoa-tree because there was danger in it, and buffet the fiercest waves in his frail canoe; but neither threat nor persuasion could ever induce him to delve in the slime of the kalo patch or plant a row of yams. He would bring fish from the sea and fruits from the mountains, but could not be prevailed upon to till the soil. He fashioned spears of cunning workmanship, and from the teeth of sharks made knives of double edge, but to the implements of husbandry he gave but little note.

At the age of sixteen Umi had reached almost the proportions of a man. His limbs were strong, his features manly and handsome, his eyes clear and full of expression, and in athletic sports and the use of arms he had no equal among his companions. His habits brought around him but few friends, yet his kindness to all left no pretext for enmity; and while some said he absented himself from home in a spirit of idleness, others shook their heads and ventured the opinion that he visited the recesses of the wooded hills alone to converse with the kini-akua and learn wisdom from the gods. And his strange conduct, it may well be imagined, was made the subject of frequent discussion in the neighborhood, for Maakao complained continually of his idleness, and but for the intercessions of the mother, who alone was able to account for his peculiarities, would have closed his doors against him.

But Umi had a few friends to extol his goodness and defend him against unkind insinuation, and among them were Piimaiwaa and Omaukamau, youths of about his own age, and Kulamea, the younger and only sister of the latter. From childhood these friends had been his frequent companions, and as he grew to manhood, strong-limbed, resolute and gentle, they learned to regard him with a love prepared for any sacrifice.

Kulamea was a bright-eyed, dusky little fairy, who often accompanied Umi and her brother in their rambles. They petted her until she became an exacting little tyrant, and then Umi, at her command, made toys for her, climbed the tallest cocoa-trees, and scaled the steepest cliffs in search of flowers and berries that she liked; and, in return for these kindnesses, what, at the age of fifteen, could Kulamea do but love almost to idolatry the brave and gentle companion who had developed into a splendid manhood? And what could Umi do at twenty but return in kind the devotion of one now ripening into a charming womanhood, whose childish friendship was the brightest sunshine that had ever flecked the landscape of his dreamy life?

With a feeling of uneasiness Akahia watched Umi's growing love for Kulamea, and when at twenty he would have married her, much to the gratification of Maakao, she kindly but firmly said to her son: "Be not in haste to fetter your free limbs. Be patient, as I have been for twenty years. Kulamea is worthy--but wait."

"Why wait?" exclaimed Maakao, suddenly appearing. He had been listening without the door. "Why should he wait?" he continued; "he has all his life been idle, and it is time that he should have a house of his own."

"You have spoken well!" replied Umi, drawing himself up to his full height, and looking scornfully down upon the husband of his mother--"you have spoken well, Maakao! It is time, indeed, that I stopped this dreaming! I will never eat food again under your roof. Now get you to your kalo patch; you will find occupation there befitting you! I will seek other means of living!"

With these scornful words Umi strode haughtily from the house. Enraged at the insult, Maakao seized a laau-palau, or large kalo-knife, and sprang after him. Umi turned and reached for his pahoa. Maakao raised his weapon to strike, but it dropped to the earth as if a paralysis had seized his arm as Akahia sprang before him, exclaiming: "Do not dare to strike! He is not your son; he is your chief! Down on your knees before him!"

To the dismay of Maakao and profound astonishment of Umi, Akahia then revealed the secret of Umi's birth, and, taking from their hiding-place the keepsakes left with her by Liloa, said, as she handed them to her son:

"Your father is king of Hawaii. Go to him in person and place these mementoes before him. Tell him Akahia-kuleana returns them to him by the hands of his and her son, who is worthy of him, and he will own you to be the child of his love. He is noble and will hold sacred his royal pledge. This should have been done long ago, but I could not bring my heart to part with you. Go, and may the gods be your protection and your guide!"

The strange revelation was soon known throughout the neighborhood, and Umi prepared for his journey to Waipio. How should he appear before Liloa, whose will was law and whose frown was death? In what guise should he seek the presence of his royal father?

"As an alii-kapu!" answered Akahia, proudly. Then from an ipu she brought forth a plumed helmet and cape of the feathers of the oo, which she had secretly fabricated with her own hands, and placed them upon the head and shoulders of her son.

To Kulamea alone was the news of what had befallen Umi unwelcome. She would have been more than content to share with him the common lot; but now that he was about to be recognized as the son of the great Liloa, she felt that they were soon to part for ever. Other alliances would be found for him, and he would forget the humble playmate of his youth, who loved him, not because his father was a king, but because they had grown up together and neither of them could help it. So when, two days after, Umi started overland for Waipio, accompanied by his two trusty friends, Piimaiwaa and Omaukamau, Kulamea secreted herself to avoid the agony of a parting farewell from Umi; but he found her, nevertheless, and made her happy by kissing and telling her that, whatever might be his future, she should share it; and she believed him, for he had never deceived her.

Umi and his companions arrived in Waipio valley at nightfall. There they remained during the night, and the next morning crossed the little stream of Wailoa, near which was the royal mansion. There Umi left his companions and proceeded alone to the palace enclosure. His head was adorned with a helmet surmounted with white and scarlet plumes, and from his broad shoulders hung a cape of yellow feathers, such as an alii alone was permitted to wear, while around his loins was fastened the maro left with Akahia by the king, and the ivory clasp ornamented a necklace of rare and beautiful shells. In his hand he bore an ihe, or javelin, of unusual weight and exquisite finish, and many eyes followed him as he approached the palace; for, although a stranger, it was manifest from his dress and bearing that he did not belong to the makaainana, or common people.

His mother had instructed him to seek the presence of the king in the most direct manner that occasion presented, and without asking the permission or assistance of any one, fearing, no doubt, that, to gain admission to the royal hale, he might exhibit and in some manner lose possession of the sole evidences of his paternity, and thus receive the punishment of an impostor. He therefore passed by, without seeking to enter, the gate of the enclosure, around which were lounging a score or more of sentinels and retainers, and, proceeding to the rear of the mansion, leaped over the high wall immediately back and within a hundred paces of the private apartments of the king.

Having thus violated a rule of royal etiquette, the penalty of which was death, unless mitigated by satisfactory explanation, Umi grasped his ihe firmly, determined, should he be opposed, to fight his way to the royal presence. It was a desperate resolution, but he had faith in himself, and was without fear.

His movements had been watched as he passed the gate of the enclosure without a word, and as he sprang over the wall he found a number of uplifted spears between him and the entrances to the mansion. Nerving himself for the worst, he strode past the interposing weapons, strongly hurling their points aside when too closely presented, and in a moment stood at the back entrance of the palace, through which no one but of the royal household was permitted to enter.

This audacity saved him from more determined opposition, since it seemed incredible that any one not possessing the confidence of the king would take such double hazard of his life. Stepping within the entrance, Umi turned, and, with a half-amused smile at the baffled guard now clamoring around the door, struck the handle of his javelin firmly into the ground, and walked unarmed into the presence of the king.

As Umi entered unannounced, the king had just finished his morning repast, and was lounging on a couch of many folds of kapa, unattended except by his spittoon-bearer and two half-grown boys with kahilis.

Astounded at the intrusion, the king rose to a sitting posture, and, with a frown upon his face, was about to speak, when Umi stepped to the couch and boldly seated himself in the lap of Liloa.

Although past sixty, the king still retained a goodly share of his earlier vigor, and, throwing Umi from his knees, angrily exclaimed:

"Audacious slave! how dare you!"

Umi rose to his feet, and, standing proudly before the king with folded arms, replied:

"The son of Liloa dare do anything!"

For a moment the king did not speak. He looked into the face of the undaunted young stranger, and noted that it was noble; and then his thoughts went back to Kealakaha, and to the fair young girl of better than common blood whom he had met there many years before while journeying to Waipio after consecrating the temple of Manini, and finally, almost as in a dream, to the pledge he had given and the tokens he had left with her. When all this came back to him he cast his eyes over the comely youth, and beheld his maro around the loins of Umi, and the ivory clasp of his necklace upon his breast. He could scarcely doubt, yet, as if he had recollected nothing, seen nothing, he calmly but kindly said:

"Young man, you claim to be my son. If so, tell me of your mother, and of the errand that brings you here."

Umi bowed and answered: "My mother, O king, is Akahia-kuleana, of Kealakaha, and my years were twenty at the last ripening of the ohias. For the first time, four days ago, she told me I was the son of the king of Hawaii, and to take to him this maro and this ivory clasp, and he would not disown me. You are Liloa, the honored sovereign of Hawaii. I am Umi, the humble son of Akahia-kuleana. From the hands of my mother I have brought to you this maro and this ornament of bone. If I am your son, seat me beside you on the kapa; if not, order my body to the heiau as a sacrifice to the gods."

There was a struggle in the breast of the king, and his eyes were bent upon the bold youth with an expression of pride and tenderness as he said:

"How did you gain admission here alone and unannounced?"

"By leaping over the wall of the pahale and beating down the spears of your guards," replied Umi modestly.

"It was a dangerous undertaking," suggested the king, feigning a frown which wrinkled into a smile upon his lips; "had you no fear?"

"I am still young and have not yet learned to fear," returned Umi, with an air of self-reproach.

"Such words could come alone from a heart ennobled by the blood of Pilikaeae! You are indeed the son of Liloa!" exclaimed the king, with emotion, stretching forth his hand and seating Umi beside him. "Not these tokens alone but your face and bearing show it." And he put his arms around the neck of his son and kissed him, and ordered a repast, which they ate together, while Umi related to his royal father the simple events of his humble life.

As the strange entrance of Umi into the royal mansion had attracted much attention, many of the privileged retainers and officers of the court soon gathered in and around the palace; and the rank and possible purposes of the visitor were undergoing an earnest discussion--especially after it was learned that he was breakfasting with the king--when Hakau, the only recognized son of Liloa and heir-presumptive to the throne, suddenly appeared and sought the presence of his royal father.

There was a dark scowl on the face of Hakau on entering the room and observing a stranger in close conversation with the king and eating from the same vessels, nor did it disappear when Liloa presented Umi to him as his own son and Hakau's half-brother. Umi rose and frankly offered his brother the hand of friendship and affection; but the grasp and recognition of Hakau were cold, and when he was invited to sit down and partake of meat with his newly-found brother he excused himself with the falsehood that he had just risen from his morning meal. After a few words with the king, during which he closely scrutinized Umi's handsome face and manly form, Hakau withdrew, leaving no token in word or look of any feeling of joy at the meeting.

Although the kings of the Hawaiian group at that time usually had from two to six wives--either marriages of the heart or alliances with the families of neighboring kings to strengthen their dynasties--tradition has given to Liloa but one recognized wife. She was Pinea, a Maui chiefess of family distinction, who gave to Liloa a son and one daughter--Hakau and Kapukini. Hakau had reached his thirtieth year and had married the daughter of the chief and high-priest Pae. They had one child, a daughter, who had been given the name of her grandmother, Pinea. Kapukini had not quite reached womanhood, and was the idol of the court.

Hakau was a large, well-visaged man, but was haughty, selfish and cruel. Having been, until the sudden appearance of Umi at the court, the only recognized son of Liloa, his caprices had been humored until his heartlessness and tyranny had become almost a by-word in Hamakua. But the truth seems to be that he was naturally vicious and barbarous, and tradition speaks of no greater tyrant among all the rulers of Hawaii. Heedless of the rights of property, without return he took from others whatever he coveted, and in an insanity of pride and criminal envy caused to be secretly slain or disfigured such as were reputed to surpass him in personal beauty. Without giving note or credence to the many tales of barbarism with which tradition has connected his name, it is doubtless true that his cruelty and contempt for the rights of his subjects rendered him an unfit successor of the gentle and sagacious Liloa, under whose reign the humblest were protected, and peace and prosperity prevailed throughout the six districts of the island.

No further explanation of Hakau's freezing reception of Umi is required. He was envious of his handsome face and noble bearing, and hated him because of the love with which his father manifestly regarded him. But Hakau's feelings in the matter were not consulted, and the day following Umi was conducted to the temple of Paakalani in great pomp, where, to the solemn music of chant and sacred drum, the officiating priest with the newly-found son of the king went through the form of oki-ka-piko--a ceremony attending the birth of the children of royalty--and Umi was formally and publicly recognized as his son by the king of Hawaii.

Hakau was compelled, with great bitterness of heart, to witness this ceremony, but was too discreet to openly manifest his displeasure. Returning to the palace, Umi was formally presented to the royal household, and heralds proclaimed his rank and investiture of the tabus to which he was entitled.

Although the mother of Hakau, Pinea received him kindly, and Kapukini was more than delighted with her new and handsome brother. She clung to his hand, and artlessly declared that Hakau was cross with her and that she had prayed to the gods to send her another brother, just such a one as Umi, and they had done so.

Soon after a great feast was given by the king in honor of the new heir, and all the leading chiefs in the kingdom were invited to come and pay their respects to him. Twelve hundred chiefs were present, and the feasting and rejoicing continued for three days, interspersed with games and athletic sports, in which Umi shone with great splendor. In feats of strength and the skilful handling of arms he had few equals in all that great and distinguished gathering, and in conversations with the old he exhibited so much wisdom and prudence of speech that they wondered who had been his tutors; and when they learned that he had been taught by no one and that the greater part of his young life had been passed in solitude, some of them thought the gods must have instructed him, and all admitted that he was a worthy son of Liloa and an honor to the royal line.

Umi was thus firmly established at the court of his royal father, and adequate revenues were set apart for his proper maintenance and that of a retinue befitting his high rank. His friends Piimaiwaa and Omaukamau, who were overjoyed at his good fortune, entered his service as his personal and confidential friends, and thenceforth became identified with his career, always appearing as the most faithful and self-sacrificing of his adherents.

In a week after his arrival at Waipio, Umi sent Omaukamau back to their old home with news of his recognition by the king. He also bore an order enlarging the area of Maakao and Akahia's possessions, and relieving them from rent and all other tenant charges. Nor did he forget Kulamea. He sent her a little present in token of his love, and word that, although it could not safely be so then, some day in the future she should be nearer to him, even though he might become the king of Hawaii. The token was dear to her, and dearer still his words, for she knew the heart of Umi and did not doubt; and thenceforth she lived and patiently waited for him, keeping her own secret, and firmly saying "no" to the many who sought her in marriage.