Part 26

As already mentioned, of the two puhonuis, or places of refuge, on Hawaii at that time, one was an adjunct of the heiau of Paakalani, at Waipio. In times of war their gates, with white flags to mark them, were always open, and those who succeeded in passing into the enclosure were safe from assault, even though pursued by the king himself.

This savage proposal to close the gates of the puhonui was promptly resented by Laeanui. He would as soon have thought of tumbling the gods from their pedestals and consigning them to the flames.

"You suggest what is impossible," said the priest. "Since the days of Wakea the puhonui has been sacred. Its gates cannot be closed to the defenceless, and the gods have said that he who shuts them against the weak shall seek in vain their shelter from the arm of the strong."

"Well, then, keep them open!" retorted the king, sharply. "They will run swiftly who enter them!"

Torches were relighted, and the king and his attendants left the heiau. They had not passed beyond the outer wall before Nunu emerged from the inner court. His was the voice that had answered the king from the anu. Thus in the temple of Paakalani was shaped the destruction of Hakau, and the priests whom he had insulted and defied opened broadly and surely the way to his death.

The next morning an unusual commotion was observed in and around the royal mansion, and as party after party left the inclosure--some proceeding toward the sea-coast, and others up the valley and into the mountains beyond--the villagers wondered at the proceeding, and predicted that a strict tabu would soon follow, whatever might be the occasion. But when they learned that the war-god was to be redecorated, and an imposing religious festival was to follow the day after, they knew that trouble of some kind was anticipated by the king, and soon found a correct explanation of the movement in the rumors which they, too, had heard concerning Umi and his friends in Hilo and eastern Hamakua. The possibility of an uprising against Hakau gave them no uneasiness, however, for his cruelties had secured for him their hatred, while the name of Umi was to all classes a synonym of strength and gentleness.

The king was not indifferent to the danger with which he was about to be confronted, and promptly despatched lunapais to the district chiefs of Kohala, Kona, and Hamakua, ordering them to report without delay at Waipio with two thousand warriors each, while the governor of Hilo was commanded by a special lunapai to march at once with a body of warriors to Waipunalei, with the view of precipitating the movement of Umi upon Waipio, where, it was not doubted, he would be overwhelmed and crushed.

All these were proper precautions, but they were taken too late; for at the time the feather-hunters and lunapais were leaving on their respective missions, Umi, at the head of over two thousand well-armed and resolute warriors, had reached a point within a two hours' march of Waipio, and was awaiting a signal to swoop down upon the valley.

And now let us return to Waipunalei, and note what had been occurring there during the preceding forty-eight hours. As soon as the priests left for Waipio, two days before, trusty and intelligent sentinels followed and took their respective stations, designated by Maukaleoleo, on the summits of seven different hill-tops discernible from each other from Waipunalei to Waipio. The first, coming eastward from Waipio, was three miles, perhaps, from the temple of Paakalani; the last was a rocky pinnacle about four miles from Waipunalei. This was the station of Maukaleoleo.

The sentinels were instructed to gather large heaps of dry grass and bark; to keep small fires smouldering and ready for use; to vigilantly watch the peaks in the direction of Waipio; to apply the torch the instant a signal-fire was seen, and keep the pile burning until it was plainly answered by the next station toward Waipunalei.

All that day and through the following night armed men were arriving at the rendezvous at Kaoleioku's, until something more than two thousand warriors had reported, and every spare moment of the next day was devoted to forming them into companies and battalions, giving them leaders and preparing them for a rapid march.

Many of the warriors were accompanied by their wives, daughters or sisters; for in those days, and later, women not unfrequently followed their fathers, brothers and husbands to battle, generally keeping in the rear to furnish them with food and water, but sometimes, in a close and desperate conflict, mingling bravely in the fight. In such cases they gave and received blows, and expected and were accorded no consideration because of their sex.

Instances are given in Hawaiian tradition of the tide of battle being turned, on more than one occasion, by desperate women transformed from camp-followers into warriors; and as late as 1819 we behold Manona, wife of Kekuokalani, the last sturdy champion of the gods of his fathers, falling lifeless in battle upon the body of her dead husband at Kuamoo, while Kaahumanu and Kalakau, widows of the great Kamehameha, commanded the fleet of canoes operating with the land forces under Kalaimoku.

After the visit of the priests from Waipio the purpose of the revolt was no longer disguised, and whenever Umi made his appearance among the assembled and assembling warriors he was greeted with the wildest enthusiasm. His romantic history was known to them, and had been made the theme of song. His many triumphs at the festival given by Liloa in honor of his formal recognition were recited by those who had witnessed them, and his grand proportions and noble bearing stamped him as of chiefly blood; and when his friends Piimaiwaa and Omaukamau spoke of the great learning displayed by him when questioned by the priests, and intimated that he had been instructed by the gods and was under their care, every doubt of success vanished, and the order for an advance upon Waipio was awaited with impatience.

Maukaleoleo mysteriously came and went, but always at night, and seldom remaining longer than a few minutes. He was known to all within the enclosure, and allowed to pass unchallenged, as he could be mistaken for no one else. As he strode through the gateway, bearing a spear scarcely less than thirty feet in length, the sentinels regarded him with awe; and when they saw him converse with Umi and then silently depart, they shook their heads and said, "Perhaps he is Lono!"

The temple of Manini, dedicated by Liloa just before his meeting with the mother of Umi, and of which Kaoleioku was the high-priest, was a reconstruction and enlargement of an old heiau which was in existence certainly as early as the time of the warlike Kalaunuiohua, who reigned between the years 1260 and 1300. With a large army and proportionate fleet of canoes he invaded Maui, Molokai and Oahu, and, taking their captured sovereigns with him, made a descent upon Kauai. But his triumphs ended there. After an obstinate battle he was defeated and taken prisoner, but was subsequently released and permitted to return to his own kingdom.

It was during the reign of this sovereign that the prophetess Waahia lived. She accompanied him in his expeditions as far as Oahu, but refused to proceed with him to Kauai. She declared that the gods would bring calamity upon him if he invaded that island, and sought to persuade him to consolidate his conquests and return to Hawaii. But the warrior-king cared but little for priests or temples, and was in the habit of destroying both when they failed to subserve his purposes. Enraged at the unfavorable auguries of Waahia, and fearful that they might come to the ears of and demoralize his warriors, the king induced her to return to Hawaii. One tradition says she voluntarily abandoned Kalaunuiohua, while another relates that she consented to return only on condition that the war-god of the king be sent back with her. This god had been in the reigning family of Hawaii since the days of Paao, and had been sanctified by that father of the priesthood. To distinguish it from other war-gods it was known as Akuapaao, and was held in great veneration. When asked for an explanation of the strange request, the prophetess boldly declared that, if the god was taken to Kauai, it would never return except at the head of a conquering army that would make of Hawaii a tributary kingdom.

"Then take it with you!" exclaimed the king, savagely, "and if I return to Hawaii alive I will burn you both together!"

"You will burn neither," said Waahia. "When you return to Hawaii you will think better of the gods and their servants; and in generations to come, when angry spears shall be crossed in the hale of the kings of Hawaii, the hand will be stronger that places the fresh lei upon the shoulders of Akuapaao."

The prophetess prepared to embark. The god, wrapped in a fold of kapa, so that it might not be recognized, was brought to the beach and delivered to the departing seeress. The canoe, which was large enough to accommodate thirty persons, was shoved into the surf. It was provided with food and a calabash of water. Declining all assistance or companionship in her journey, Waahia stepped into the canoe with the image in her arms, and, after carefully depositing it in the bow of the boat, returned and seated herself near the stern. Half a dozen men were waiting for the word to launch the canoe from the sands upon which the stern was lightly resting. But the seeress raised no sail, touched no oar. For some minutes she sat, silent and motionless, with bent head and clasped hands, as if in prayer, while hundreds of curious eyes watched her in amazement, wondering what would become of her, even should the unmanned craft be successful in passing the breakers. Then she slowly rose to her feet, and the canoe began to glide toward the reef. Faster and faster it moved, until, mounting a retreating wave, it was borne swiftly out into the calmer waters; then, slightly turning in its course, it dashed southward with the speed of the wind, and was soon lost to the view of the awe-stricken beholders.

Waahia looked beneath the waves and smiled, for Ukanipo, the shark-god, with scores of assistants, was bearing her onward; and then from his ipu Laamaomao, the Hawaiian AEolus, let loose the imprisoned winds, and refreshing zephyrs cooled the face of the prophetess and accelerated the speed of the canoe, until it seemed to leap from wave to wave; and great sea-birds screamed with fright as it dashed past and awoke them from their billowy slumbers, leaving behind it a long trail of troubled waters.

Passing to the southward of the intervening islands, the canoe was borne with undiminished speed through the channel of Alenuihaha to the northeastern coast of Hawaii, and before sunset was beached at Koholalele. The prophetess knew the meaning of this. Near by was the old heiau of Manini, and thither, as she felt instructed, was taken and deposited the war-god Akuapaao, with the solemn injunction to the high-priest in charge that it was never to be removed from the inner court unless the life of the moi was in peril or the kingdom was invaded by a foreign foe.

The old heiau had given place to a more imposing structure during the reign of Liloa. Its outer walls had been enlarged, raised and repaired, and its inner belongings improved and redecorated; but its sacred relics had not been disturbed, and its many gods remained where they had been for generations.

Among the most sacred idols of the temple, even after the death of Liloa, was the Akuapaao. Its name indicated alike its age and sanctity; and while the legends connected with it had become vague and distorted in their transmission through a long line of priests, the prophecy of Waahia still clung to it, and it was especially reverenced by the few to whom was entrusted the secret of its functions.

Hakau had learned of this god from his royal father, and the same morning that his retainers were sent to the hills for feathers two priests were despatched to Koholalele, with orders to bring to Waipio, in the king's name and without delay, the war-god Akuapaao. Should the priests of the temple refuse to surrender the idol, then the messengers were instructed to call upon the district chiefs for assistance, and take it by force, no matter at what cost of life.

But the king was too late, for at early daylight of the morning of the day before his messengers left Waipio, Maukaleoleo strode into the rebel headquarters with the Akuapaao in his arms. Kaoleioku had, of course, instructed the giant where and how to secure the image, for in years past he had been its custodian, and his orders continued to be obeyed by the priests of Manini. The idol, completely wrapped in kapa, was deposited in the private heiau of the high-priest, and Maukaleoleo left the enclosure as quietly as he had entered it a few minutes before. The sentinels wondered, as usual, but bowed in silence as he came and went.

The priest rose with the sun, and learned that Maukaleoleo had already been a visitor that morning. He hastened to the heiau, and there found the Akuapaao. He was overjoyed. He removed the kapa covering from the idol, placed it upon a pedestal between the images of Ku and Lono, and then found Umi and brought him to the heiau. Entering, Kaoleioku closed the door and pointed to the Akuapaao. Umi bowed reverently before it.

"Listen, O Umi!" said the priest; "listen, O son of Liloa! Behold the war-god of your fathers! It was sanctified by the touch of Paao, and for generations, in the inner chamber of Manini, has awaited your coming. From Waahia, the prophetess, have come down, through the chief priests of the heiau, these words: 'When angry spears shall be crossed in the hale of the kings of Hawaii, the hand will be the stronger that places the fresh lei upon the shoulders of Akuapaao.' The spears are about to be crossed; the god is here; let yours be the hand, and not Hakau's, to place the lei-ai upon the shoulders of Akuapaao!"

The words of the prophecy came to Umi as a dream. Overwhelmed with their significance, he fell upon his knees and exclaimed:

"God of my fathers! be you my guide until I prove unworthy of your protection!"

"Your realm is yet small," said the priest, "and is enclosed within these walls. Let us pay respect to the gods, that its boundaries may be enlarged."

Thereupon a strict tabu was ordered to all within the walls, to begin at midday and continue until the setting of the sun. The time was brief, but events were pressing, and it could not safely be extended.

The tabu, or kapu, as it is sometimes written, was strictly a prerogative of the high chiefs and priests of olden Hawaii. There were fixed tabus of custom, and declared tabus of limited duration by the temporal and spiritual rulers. The penalty for the violation of all tabus was death. It was tabu of custom for men and women to eat together, or for women to eat of the flesh of swine, fowls, turtle and many kinds of fish. Everything belonging to the kings, priests and temples was tabu, or sacred, and springs, paths, fishing-grounds, water-courses, etc., were frequently thus kept from the use of the people. Declared general tabus, for the propitiation of the gods or the amelioration of a public evil, were either strict or common, according to the emergency. During the time of a common tabu the people were required to abstain from their usual avocations and attend at the heiau, where morning and evening prayers were offered. A strict tabu was more sacred. While it continued--generally one or two days--all, with the exception of the alii-nui and priests, were compelled to remain within doors. Every fire and every light was extinguished; no canoe was launched; all noises ceased; the pigs and dogs were muzzled, and fowls were placed under calabashes. These tabus were proclaimed by heralds, and their wanton violation was an unpardonable offence.

In preparation for the tabu to be declared by Umi, flowers and feathers were brought, and leis of both were woven. Everything being in readiness, heralds proclaimed the tabu and its duration, with the further announcement that the occasion was the arrival of the mighty war-god Akuapaao and its coming decoration by Umi.

As the sun touched the mark of meridian, the gates of the enclosure were barred and guarded by the religious attendants of the priest; the fires were everywhere extinguished; the few animals within the walls were either muzzled or hidden; men, women and children suddenly disappeared within their dwellings or quarters, and mats were hung at the openings; Umi and the priest retired alone to the heiau and closed the door, and silence, disturbed only by low whispers and the muffled footfalls of the watching priests, reigned over the twenty-five hundred persons gathered within the enclosure.

In the heiau, or apartment of the gods, to which Umi and the high-priest retired, were a number of images and sacred relics. Near the centre of the room was a small altar, upon which had been deposited the leis provided for the decoration of Akuapaao. They sat down beside it, and for an hour or more nothing was heard but the whispered prayers of the priest, addressed in turn to the several gods before him. Then, rising and leading Umi by the hand to the Akuapaao, in a low voice he formally presented him to the god as the son of Liloa and rightful ruler of the Hawaiian people. Another prayer was uttered, and then Umi, with the words, "Accept this, O Akuapaao, with the homage of Umi!" proceeded reverently to place around the head and neck of the image a number of fragrant leis of flowers and wreaths of brilliant feathers.

The priest watched the act intently. As the last wreath of feathers, resembling a crown in appearance--the lei-hula-alii--was placed upon the head of the image, a sunbeam flashed through what seemed to be a small rent in the thatched roof, and for a moment haloed the heads of Umi and the god. The priest read the answer and smiled. He felt as assured of the favor of the gods as if it had been pledged in a voice of thunder, and Umi bent low in acknowledgment of the joyful revelation.

The sun dropped behind the hills; twilight turned to bronze the gold of the valleys, and the tabu was at an end. It was proclaimed that the auguries were highly favorable, and the silence of the tabu was broken by wild strains of music and shouts of rejoicing.

V.

As darkness settled upon the camp of the insurgents Umi felt that the hour for action was closely at hand. He therefore gave orders that preparations for instant departure be maintained throughout the night. The moon was waning, with a promise of rising some time before morning, and the night set in dark and cloudy, with occasional showers.

About two hours before midnight Maukaleoleo suddenly and silently strode past the sentinels. Seeking Umi, he found him in council with his friends Omaukamau, Piimaiwaa and the high-priest. They were arranging the order of march by the four narrow paths at that time leading to Waipio.

The giant stooped low and looked in upon the council through the doorway. He could scarcely distinguish the faces within by the light of the flambeau kept burning near the entrance. He did not attempt to enter, but stood silent and motionless, with his hands upon his knees, peering into the room as if to attract attention. Umi smiled as he recognized the huge object, and stepped to the door. The giant rose until his head was above the ridge-pole, and then bowed like the bending of a tree before the wind.

"Well, my good friend," said Umi, "after thanking you for your last night's work, let me ask what word you bring."

"None," replied the giant. "There is no light yet, but I am impressed that it will be seen before morning."

"And so am I, good Maukaleoleo," returned the chief, "and your signal will find us prepared."

"That is what I came to learn," answered the giant, bowing and turning to depart.

"But do not mistake for a signal the rising moon, which will soon set its torch upon the hill-tops," suggested Umi, pleasantly.

"Unless the moon should rise in the west, which it has not done since the days of Maui, the mistake would scarcely be possible," replied Maukaleoleo, with a smile upon his great face, and then, with a few long strides, disappearing in the darkness.

It must have been at about the time of this interview that Hakau was leaving the heiau at Waipio, after having invoked the auguries of sacrifice and listened to the voice of Nunu from the darkness of the inner temple. The king had scarcely passed the gate of the temple leading to the sacred pavement of Liloa, which connected the heiau with the royal mansion, and which privileged feet alone could tread, when Nunu, after exchanging a few words with the high-priest, also left the enclosure, but neither over the sacred pavement nor toward the palace. Taking a path which did not seem to be new to him, from the facility with which he traveled it by the light of the stars, he crossed the valley and mounted the high ridge of hills enclosing it on the southeast. Ascending the ridge for some distance, and until the lights of the valley could no longer be seen, he proceeded slowly upward, at intervals striking together two stones and listening for a response. At length it came, like an echo of his own signal, and a few minutes' walk brought him to a large heap of dry leaves and limbs, from behind which Kakohe rose and greeted him.

"Fire it at once!" said Nunu. "I will explain all when the signal is answered."

Behind a rock, a few paces away, a small fire was smouldering. Kakohe sprang and seized a burning brand, which he applied to the heap, and in a moment the red flames reached heavenward, throwing a lurid light upon the surrounding hills.

With their backs to the fire the two priests looked anxiously toward the south and east, and in a few minutes far in the distance gleamed an answering flame. Satisfied that their signal had been seen and responded to, they permitted the fire to die out, and then returned to the valley to await the important events of the morrow.

Leaving the rendezvous of the rebels, Maukaleoleo slowly returned to his station, for even his mighty limbs at times grew weary, and the path leading up the mountain was obscure and narrow. Reaching the summit, he examined a small fire hidden among the rocks, and was about to stretch himself upon the ground, with his face turned eastward, when he discerned a strange, star-like speck upon the horizon. For a moment it paled, and then grew brighter and brighter. He stepped to a tree near a huge pile of combustibles, and, glancing along a horizontal limb that had been previously trimmed for the purpose, discovered that it pointed directly toward the light. All doubt at once disappeared. He knew it was the signal. Springing for a brand, the heap was lighted, and by its wild glare in the darkness Maukaleoleo rapidly descended to the valley. His fatigue had vanished, for the signal of Hakau's death had been lighted by his own hands, and his great heart was in arms.

The signal was at once discerned by the watchmen at Umi's quarters, and in a few minutes all was quiet commotion within the walls. Torches were lighted, armed warriors sprang with alacrity into line, and half an hour after Umi, in feather mantle and helmet plumed with royal colors, and preceded by the war-god Akuapaao, borne upon a manele, or palanquin, resting upon the shoulders of kahunas, with Kaoleioku as high-priest, marched out of the enclosure, followed by two thousand well-armed and devoted supporters. His address to his warriors was brief. "The moments are precious," said Umi, "and must not be wasted in words. Let our spears speak, and at sunset to-morrow we will eat meat in peace in Waipio!"