Part 24

Umi's affability and intelligence soon made him a great favorite at the court and steadily endeared him to his father. But in proportion as he grew in the favor of others Hakau's hatred for him increased, and but for the fear of his father would have manifested itself in open hostility; but Liloa, who was growing old and feeble through a cureless malady, had not yet designated his successor, and Hakau deemed it prudent to make no outward showing of the intense envy and dislike of his brother which he was secretly nursing, and which he resolved should be gratified when the reins of government passed into his hands.

In a little less than two years after the recognition of Umi the black kapa covered Liloa. When he felt the end approaching he called his two sons before him, and publicly gave the charge of the government and title of moi to Hakau, and the custody of the gods and temples to Umi. "You are to be the ruler of Hawaii," he said to Hakau, "and Umi is to be your counselor."

There was grief all over the kingdom when the death of Liloa became known, for he was greatly beloved; and, that his bones might never be desecrated, the high-priest Pae, whose daughter Hakau had married, secretly conveyed them to the Kona coast, and consigned them to the deep waters off Kekaha.

This was in accordance with the custom of the time--in fact, with the custom of earlier and later years, for the resting-place of the bones of Kamehameha I., who died in 1819, is unknown. A story survives that the remains of this eminent chief were entombed in the sea, but the more popular belief is that they were secretly conveyed to a cave or other place prepared for them in the hills back of Kailua, on the island of Hawaii, and there hidden for ever from mortal gaze. In connection with this belief it is stated that just before daylight on the morning following the night of the death of Kamehameha, one of his nearest friends, while the guard had been removed to afford the opportunity, took the bones of his beloved chief upon his shoulders, and, alone and unseen, conveyed them to their secret sepulchre. Returning, he encountered two natives who were preparing for the labors of the day. Fearing that he had been followed, he inquired whether they had observed any one passing toward the hills that morning. They declared that they had seen no one. Had they answered differently he would have slain them both on the spot, that their secret might have died with them.

The name of this chief was Hoolulu. He has been dead for many years; and although he left children, to one of whom the secret may have been imparted, in accordance with native custom in such matters, it is now believed that all knowledge of the depository of the remains of the first Kamehameha is lost. In 1853, when the necessity of hiding the bones of distinguished chiefs was no longer recognized, Kamehameha III. visited Kailua and almost prevailed upon Hoolulu to point out the spot. They even started toward the hills for that purpose, but, as quite a number of persons were observed to be following, Hoolulu declined to proceed, and could never after be induced to divulge anything.

So fearful were the ancient chiefs of Hawaii that some indignity might be offered to their remains after death--for instance, that charmed fish-hooks or arrow-points for shooting mice might be made from their bones--that they were invariably hidden by their surviving friends, sometimes in the depths of the ocean, and quite as frequently, perhaps, in the dark recesses of volcanic caverns, with which the islands abound.

Immediately after Kamehameha I. had breathed his last his friend Kalaimoku assembled the principal chiefs around the body to consider what should be done with it. In his great admiration for the dead chief one of them solemnly said: "This is my thought: we will eat him raw!" But the body was left to Liholiho, son and successor of the dead king who, with his queen, Kamamalu, died while on a visit to England in 1824.

The bones of no Hawaiian chief were ever more securely hidden than were those of the distinguished alii-nui Kualii, who ruled with a strong arm the turbulent factions of the island of Oahu some two centuries back. After the flesh had been stripped from the bones they were given in charge of a trusty friend to be secreted, and most effectually did he accomplish the delicate task assigned him. He had them pulverized to a fine powder, which he mixed with the poi to be served at the funeral feast to be given to the principal chiefs the day following. At the close of the repast, when asked if he had secreted the bones of the dead chief to his satisfaction, he grimly replied: "Hidden, indeed, are the bones of Kualii! They have been deposited in a hundred living sepulchres. You have eaten them!"

But we are wandering somewhat from our story. The day after the death of Liloa, Hakau was ceremoniously invested with supreme authority, while the high-priest Laeanui gave formal recognition to Umi as guardian of the gods and temples. Both events were celebrated with display and sacrifice; but it is said that the scream of the alae, a sacred bird of evil omen, was heard around the palace all through the night that Hakau first slept there as king, and that as Umi entered the temple of Paakalani to assume the guardianship of the gods the head of the great image of Lono, near the door of the inner temple, nodded approvingly.

Independently of Umi's position as prime minister or royal adviser, his authority as guardian of the gods and temples was second only to that of the king, and Hakau chafed under a bequest that had clothed his brother with a power little less than his own and placed him so near the throne. The consequence was that he seldom invited him to his councils, and secretly sought to cast discredit upon his acts as the nominal head of the priesthood. But Umi bore himself so nobly that Hakau's venom brought no poison to him, and the petty persecutions to which he was subjected not only failed to injure him, but actually added to his popularity with those who had felt the barbarity of his brother, whose first acts on coming to power were to dismiss, disrate and impoverish many of the old and faithful servants and counselors of his father, and surround himself with a party of unscrupulous retainers as cruel and treacherous as himself.

Enraged that his secret and cowardly slanders of Umi failed to bring him into disrespect, Hakau's hostility began to assume a more open and brutal form. He publicly reviled his brother for his low birth, and assumed not only that Liloa was not his father, but that his mother was a woman without any distinction of blood.

Unable to bear these taunts, and not deeming it prudent to precipitate an open rupture with his brother, Umi quietly left Waipio with his two friends Piimaiwaa and Omaukamau, and, traveling through Hamakua without stopping at Kealakaha, where dwelt his mother and Kulamea, proceeded at once to Waipunalei, near Laupahoehoe, in the district of Hilo, where he concluded to remain for a time and await the development of events.

To support themselves Umi and his two friends devoted a portion of their time to fishing, bird-catching and the making of canoes, spears and other weapons; and although the rank of Umi was studiously concealed, his intelligence, skilful use of arms and general bearing could not fail to attract attention and excite the curiosity of his humble associates. Not unfrequently strangers would prostrate themselves before him, so profoundly were they impressed with his appearance, but he declined to accept their homage and smilingly assured them that he was born and reared, like themselves, in humble life. As a further precaution against recognition, he carefully avoided the prominent chiefs of the district, deeming it probable that some of them had seen him in Waipio, or even witnessed the ceremonies attending his acceptance as the son of Liloa.

III.

It was not destined that Umi should remain long unknown among the hills of Hilo. His sudden disappearance and continued absence from the court had excited apprehensions of foul dealing, and Hakau himself, who had thus far failed in his efforts to discover the retreat of Umi, began to fear that he was somewhere secretly planning a deep scheme of retaliation. But Umi had as yet marked out for himself no definite plan of action. He smarted under the persecutions of Hakau, and did not doubt that, sooner or later, he would triumph over them and be restored to the rights and privileges bequeathed to him by his royal father; but exactly when and how all this was to be accomplished were problems which he expected the future to assist him in solving.

And he was not disappointed. The future for which he had patiently waited was near at hand, and he was about to become the central figure of a struggle which would test to their utmost his courage and ability. One day, while strolling alone in the hills back of Waipunalei, there suddenly appeared before him a man of stupendous proportions. Umi regarded the object for a moment with amazement, and was about to speak when the monster dropped on his knees before him. In that position he was a head and shoulders above Umi, and the spear in his hand was of the measure in length of ten full steps. Although more than eleven feet in height, he was well proportioned, and the expression of his face was intelligent and gentle. He was young in years, yet his hair fell to his shoulders and was streaked with gray.

"Who are you, and why do you kneel to me?" said Umi, looking up into the face of the giant with a feeling of awe. "If I had your limbs I would kneel alone to the gods."

"I am Maukaleoleo, of Kona, and the most unfortunate of men," replied the monster in a ponderous but not unpleasant tone. "My mother was Nuuheli; but she is now dead, and, having grown to the height of the trees, I live in the mountains among them, for men seem to fear and hate me, and women and children scream with fright at my approach."

"And who was your father?" inquired Umi, kindly.

"As he died when I was young," returned the giant, "and that was more than thirty years ago, I know not, except that his name was Mano, and that he claimed lineage from Kahaukapu, the grandfather of the great Liloa, whose unworthy son now rules in Hawaii."

"Hist!" exclaimed Umi, reaching up and placing his hand gently upon the shoulder of the monster. "There is death in such words, even to a man of Maukaleoleo's girth. The trees are listeners as well as myself."

"The trees will say nothing," was the reply, "for they often hear such words of Hakau. But why should I fear death? I was not born to be slain for speaking the truth. Listen, and then tell me why Maukaleoleo should fear anything that is human. When a boy a stranger met me one day on the cliffs overlooking the sea, where I was searching for the feathers of the oo. He was mighty in stature, and in fear I fell upon the ground and hid my face. He called me by name, and I looked up and saw that he held in his hand a small fish of the color of the skies at sunset. Handing the fish to me, he said: 'Eat this, and to see your face all men will look toward the stars.' I knew he was a god--Kanaloa, perhaps--and I feared to refuse. So I took the fish and ate it, and the stranger stepped over the cliffs with a smile on his face and disappeared. The fish was pleasant to the taste, and I could have eaten more. A strange sense of increasing strength seized me, and on my way home I lifted large rocks and felt that I could uproot trees. I said nothing to my mother of what had happened, but the next morning she looked at me with fright and wonder, for during the night I had grown an arm's length in height. Except upon my hands and knees I could no longer enter the door of the house where I was born, and everything with which I was familiar had a dwarfed and unnatural look. I was ashamed to meet my old associates, and only ventured from the house when it was too dark for me to be plainly seen. Larger and larger I grew, until at the age of fifteen I reached my present proportions, when my mother died, and I made my home in the mountains, where I have since spent the most of my time. What should one so treated by the gods fear from man?" And Maukaleoleo rose to his feet, towering like a cocoa-tree above his companion.

"A strange story, indeed! But if the trees, which are speechless, do not betray you, why should not I?" said Umi, curious to learn something farther of the strange being in whose veins possibly coursed the blood of kings.

"Because," answered the giant, slowly, "you are Umi, the son of Liloa, and Hakau is your enemy!"

Umi listened to these words in amazement, and then frankly said:

"You are right. I am Umi, the son of Liloa, and Hakau is not my friend. And now that you know so much, you cannot but also know that it is prudent for me to remain at present unknown. Let me ask in return that you will not betray me."

"I know all, and you may fear nothing," said Maukaleoleo. "Before the moon grows large again I shall be with you, spear in hand, on your way to Waipio. Meantime you may lose sight of me, but I shall be near you when my arm is needed. You have powerful friends. Be guided by them, and all will be well."

Umi held up his hand, and Maukaleoleo folded it in his mighty palm as he dropped upon his knees and exclaimed:

"Umi, son of Liloa! here in the hills, among the listening leaves, let Maukaleoleo be the first to hail you moi of Hawaii!"

Before Umi could rebuke the untimely utterance Maukaleoleo rose to his feet and with a low bow disappeared among the trees.

With whatever feeling of fear the makaainana, or laboring classes, of Waipunalei may have regarded Maukaleoleo, as he occasionally appeared among them like a moving tower, he was not without friends. He was well known to the priests and kaulas of the district, who believed that his huge proportions were due to the special act of some god, and was always a welcome visitor at the home of Kaoleioku, a high-priest of great influence both in Hilo and Hamakua. It is therefore probable that this meeting with Umi was not entirely accidental, for the day following Kaoleioku despatched a messenger to Umi, who was found not without some difficulty, inviting him to a conference in a secluded spot near the head of a neighboring valley.

The object of the meeting was not stated, and Umi's first thought was that the emissaries of his brother were seeking to lure him to his death; but no danger ever appalled him, and, seizing his javelin and thrusting a pahoa into his girdle, he followed the messenger.

A brisk walk of an hour brought them to a small grass hut partially hidden among the trees and undergrowth of an almost dry ravine abruptly jutting into the valley. At that point the valley was too narrow to admit of cultivation, although a broken stone wall across the mouth of the ravine showed that at one time three or four uneven acres behind it had been tilled. The grass grew rank within the enclosure, and, in addition to several varieties of forest trees that had taken root since the ground had last been disturbed, a half-dozen or more cocoa-trees lifted their heads above the surrounding foliage, and the broad leaves of as many banana-stalks swayed lazily in the wind.

It was a lonesome-looking spot, and no sign of life in or around the hut was visible as the messenger stopped at a gap in the crumbling wall and awaited the approach of Umi. The chirp of the crickets in the grass seemed to be a note of warning, and the whistle of a solitary bird hidden among the leaves sounded like a scream to Umi in that deserted and otherwise silent nook; but he grasped his ihe firmly and beckoned the messenger to proceed. As he stepped over the broken wall he caught a glimpse of the ponderous form of Maukaleoleo through the branches of a sandal-tree on the side of the hill overlooking the hut. Under the eye of that mighty and friendly sentinel Umi dismissed all thought of treachery or danger.

Reaching the door of the hut, he was met by the high-priest Kaoleioku, who promptly extended his hand and invited him to enter, while the messenger withdrew from the enclosure and took a position where he commanded a view of the valley above and below the mouth of the ravine.

There was no furniture in the hut beyond two or three rickety shelves, and on one side a raised platform of earth, which, with a kapa covering, might have been used either as a bed or seat. On entering the priest requested Umi to be seated, and then bowed low and said:

"I cannot doubt that I am standing before Umi, son of Liloa, and guardian of our sacred temples and our fathers' gods." To these words the priest silently awaited an answer.

Umi did not reply at once; but after giving the face of the priest a searching glance, and recalling his meeting with Maukaleoleo the day before, and the vision through the branches of the sandal-tree, he frankly answered:

"I cannot deny it."

"No; you cannot, indeed!" returned the priest, fervently; "for so have the clouds told me, and so has it been whispered in my dreams. Word has come to me from Waipio that Hakau knows you are in Waipunalei, and his emissaries are already here with orders to assassinate you."

"Then further disguise would be useless, further delay cowardly!" exclaimed Umi, rising from his seat and grasping his ihe. "His cruelty forces me at last to strike! The time for action has come, and, spear in hand, as befits a son of Liloa, I will face the royal murderer in Waipio, and the black kapa shall be his or mine!"

"Spoken like a king and a son of a king!" returned the priest with enthusiasm, grasping Umi by the hand. "But you will not go alone. Come to me with your friends to-morrow--if possible to-night. Under my roof you will be safe, and there we will gather the spears that will make your journey to Waipio a triumphal march."

"Thanks are the only payment I can now make to your friendship," said Umi, in turn pressing the hand of the priest. "You may expect me and a few of my friends before another rising of the sun."

With a few hasty words of explanation Umi left the hut with his heart on fire, and the priest watched him with a smile until he passed the broken wall. There he was rejoined by the messenger, who silently preceded him down the valley.

As he started to return Umi looked toward the sandal-tree above the hut. Maukaleoleo was no longer there, but he frequently discerned a mighty form moving down the valley along the wooded hillside, and knew that his great friend was not far away.

The northeastern coast of the island of Hawaii presents an almost continuous succession of valleys, with intervening uplands rising gently for a few miles, and then more abruptly toward the snows of Mauna Kea and the clouds. The rains are abundant on that side of the island, and the fertile plateau, boldly fronting the sea with a line of cliffs from fifty to a hundred feet in height, is scored at intervals of one or two miles with deep and almost impassable gulches, whose waters reach the ocean either through rocky channels worn to the level of the waves, or in cascades leaping from the cliffs and streaking the coast from Hilo to Waipio with lines which seem to be of molten silver from the great crucible of Kilauea.

In the time of Liloa, and later, this plateau was thickly populated, and, requiring no irrigation, was cultivated from the sea upward to the line of frost. A few kalo patches are still seen, and bananas grow, as of old, in secluded spots and along the banks of the ravines; but the broad acres are green with cane, and the whistle of the sugar-mill is heard above the roar of the surf that beats against the rock-bound front of Hamakua.

In the first of these valleys south of Waipunalei was the estate of the high-priest Kaoleioku, which was thickly dotted with the huts of his tenants, and embraced some of the finest banana, cocoa and breadfruit groves in the district. For the accommodation of himself and family were two large mansions, constructed of heavy timbers and surrounded by a substantial stone wall. The priest was learned and hospitable, and his influence was second in the district only to that of the alii-okane.

Anticipating the arrival of Umi and his friends during the night, the priest had placed a watchman at the gate on retiring, with instructions to wake him should any one unknown to the sentinel apply for admission before morning. But Kaoleioku could not sleep, for his mind was filled with the shadows of coming events. He had discovered a son of Liloa, the rightful guardian of the temples and his gods, secreted among the makaainani to escape the persecutions of his tyrannical and heartless brother; and as a reconciliation between them did not seem to be possible, he had resolved to urge Umi into open revolt at once, and to assist him to the full extent of his power in organizing a force to contest with Hakau the right to the sovereignty of Hawaii. This he was moved to do, not more because Hakau was a tyrant, than that he had sought to degrade the priesthood, of which Umi was the nominal head, and in the dedication of a temple in Waimea had sacrilegiously usurped the powers and privileges of the high-priest. Should the revolt prove unsuccessful, his life, he well knew, would be one of the forfeits of the failure; but the priest was a courageous man, and did not hesitate to accept the hazard of the perilous undertaking. Although reared in the priesthood, he could wield a spear with the best, and when in arms his fifty years sat lightly upon him.

With his mind filled with the details of the dangerous labors before him, the priest tossed restlessly upon his couch of kapa until past midnight, when he rose and strolled out among the palms. Wearied with walking, he stretched himself upon the grass, and, fanned by the trade-winds and soothed by the stars which seemed to smile upon him through the branches of the trees, he followed his troubled thoughts into the land of dreams; and there a voice said to him thrice: "Let the spears of Hakau be sent beyond the call of the Kiha-pu, and the victory of Umi will be bloodless!"

A voice beside the sleeper awoke him, and he was informed by the watchman that a considerable number of strangers were at the gate and desired admission. The priest rose to his feet, and, with the mysterious words of the dream still ringing in his ears, proceeded to the gate, where the tall form of Umi loomed up in the darkness. Giving him his hand with a warm word of welcome, the priest was about to conduct him within when he was startled at the sudden appearance at the gate of a party of armed and resolute-looking men--how many he was unable to distinguish.

The priest was about to speak when Umi laid his hand upon his shoulder and said in a low voice: "All trusty friends."

"Then all are welcome," replied the priest, and, giving an order to the watchman, he stepped aside with Umi, when two hundred warriors, appareled for battle, silently filed in double rank through the opening, following Omaukamau and Piimaiwaa to quarters evidently prepared for a much greater number.

"Truly, a good beginning!" exclaimed the priest, with enthusiasm, as the last of the little army passed the gate.

"A few that my good friends have been sounding since yesterday," said Umi, modestly. "They do not know me yet as Umi, but are inspired with a hatred for Hakau. The number could have been greatly increased, but I feared your ability to accommodate more without warning."

"It was thoughtful; but ten times their number can be secreted within these walls. But come," continued the priest, taking the arm of Umi and proceeding toward the larger mansion; "there is red in the east, and you must have rest and sleep. When you awake I will give you a dream to interpret. It relates to the business before us."