II
THE STORY OF THE KIHA-PU
The minstrels of the olden world were wont to sing of the marvels of Olifant, the magic horn of Roland, which that glorious paladin had won in battle from the giant Jatmund. All nature trembled at its blast, the fowls of the air fell dead, the trees shivered and the hearts of the Saracens failed them for fear, even though the sound came from thirty miles away.
The counterpart of this famous horn is, we believe, still to be seen among the relics of the old savage world of Hawaii preserved in the museum at Honolulu. Let the visitor not fail to ask for a sight of the Kiha-pu, the famous war trumpet or magic conch of Kiha. It is a huge nautilus-shell of a species exceedingly rare in the island group, adorned (one can scarcely say beautified) with the inlaid teeth of conquered chieftains whose death-cry was once drowned by that strident blast. Whenever the trumpet is blown, such at least is the popular belief, the groans and cries of these old warriors are heard on the wind. Far back in the generations of old, in the twelfth century of our era, this wonder-working shell was brought from the distant isles of Samoa, but its historical career in Hawaii does not commence till the reign of the mighty warrior Kiha, who ruled the land for forty years midway in the fifteenth century.
Since then in what innumerable battles has it played its part! Kamehameha prized it as he prized Kalaipahoa, the poison goddess; Kaili, the war god, or even as he prized the fire-vomiting guns of the white men. The unique qualities of the Kiha-pu caused its possession to be eagerly coveted by the rival chiefs. When blown with skill, it had power over the gods and over the legions of genii. Were the canoes at sea and the rowers lacking food, one blast of the Kiha-pu would summon Ukanipu, the shark god, to drive the flying fish so that they might fall into the open boats. Were it necessary to replenish the water calabashes, then the trumpet could call upon Kuluiau, the goddess of rain, and the oarsmen would have scarce time to arrange the vessels ere the rain came down from the clouds in torrents. Was it wind that was wanted, lo! in answer to the prayer of the Kiha-pu, Laamaomao, the god of wind, would open his swelling calabashes towards the sea, and the breezes would rush forth. Thus useful in peace, it was a hundredfold useful in war. The king could send forth at will strident voices such as startled the ears of the enemy with challenge to battle and premonition of defeat. He could make the magic conch utter clarion notes such as would summon the forces of the spirit world to his aid and rally his people from the most hopeless fight. The sound was like the sound of breakers against the rocky shores of Hawaii.
To-day, alas! though the horn may still be blown, no deity responds to its despairing wail. When, during the native insurrection of 1889, the shell conches sounded out shrilly upon the air, many of those present thought of the Kiha-pu and its traditional magic. But Lono came not from his age-long sleep, and all things conspired to show that the potency of the trumpet of Kiha was no more.
Here is a tale founded on the old meles, of the times when the famous conch was in the hands of the king who gave it its name.
Kiha was desirous of a new feather cloak to mark his dignity among the alii. He would summon to his presence the feather hunters to go forth into the forest to snare the mame and the oo, that from their brilliant feathers of scarlet and yellow he might weave his royal mantle. To bring them to the royal enclosure he bethought himself of the Kiha-pu and dispatched its trusted guardian, whose name was Hoilo, to bring it forthwith from the heiau or temple. In a little while Hoilo came back with rueful countenance and announced that the treasure had disappeared. In its place was an ugly, carved black stone.
The king, as may be imagined, was terribly wroth, but waxing wise with cunning he concealed from everybody his loss, even announcing to Hoilo that the shell was in a place known to himself. But, as soon as he dared, he hastened to the heiau and there made a confidant of the high-priest, with whom he consulted as to the fate of the Kiha-pu. After the due sacrifices, there came a response from the oracle. A voice from the wicker shrine announced that the conch had been stolen by a band of marauders, half human and half demon, who had for some time been prowling about the neighborhood. The king was in despair, but presently a gleam of hope was vouchsafed by the tidings that the lost treasure should be recovered by the king on the day when Kiha ate of the first fruit of the cocoanut tree to be planted by himself at the next fullness of the moon. In answer to the question as to who should be the instrument of the restoration, only the mysterious reply was given that it would be a being without hands and wearing neither a malo nor mantle.
It was with a very heavy heart that Kiha returned to his palace, knowing that his trumpet was in the hands of the demi-demon band, but nevertheless he dissembled his grief, kept his secret manfully, planted his cocoanut and watered the soil daily with his own hand.
In the meanwhile the demons departed with their spoil northwards to Kauai, where after many adventures they arrived and settled themselves down in the mountains at the back of Waimea.
Here Ika, the leader of the band, who took care to retain the personal control of the Kiha-pu, had the misfortune to provoke, by some unusual piece of tyranny, a quarrel with one of his comrades, and this latter, bent upon revenge, determined to repeat the theft, for his own personal ends, of the magic trumpet. Not willing to run the risk of being its possessor, however, he contented himself with robbing it of its miraculous powers. He found out that this could be effected by placing a cross mark upon its rim, accompanying the operation with incantations and prayers to Lono. So, while Ika lay, made drunk with awa, the Kiha-pu was stolen, marked with the tabu sign by the priest at Waiolani and returned again to its place. The next day Ika arose, hung the horn by its cord of human hair around his neck and sallied proudly forth, as he had been wont, to exhibit its wonderful powers, and extort the admiration of his followers. But, alas! when he raised the conch to his mouth and blew, even though he blew with the full force of his lungs, there came back nothing but a comparatively feeble, natural hollow sound.
Ika was sadly mortified at his humiliation in the sight of men, and still more so when, after further and fruitless experiments, he had to confess that the virtue of the ill-gotten trophy had departed.
He came to the conclusion that supernatural powers had been invoked against him, and in search of further light paid a visit to an aged seer at Waialua to enquire whether the voice of the Kiha-pu would be ever restored. To his great joy the answer was returned: “Yes, once more among the hills of Hawaii the Kiha-pu shall speak to the ears of gods and men.” More than this, the prophet, after the manner of oracles, refused to tell.
Thereupon Ika decided to return at once with his companions to Hawaii, and in a few days they had crossed the channels, beheld once more the snows of the very district from which they had so suddenly decamped eight years before.
Now it happened that on this very day King Kiha, who, to the amazement of his people, had been apparently spending eight years in the cultivation of a single palm, went out to his tree and was delighted to find that three cocoanuts had attained their maturity and were ready for his eating. In accordance with the ritual prescribed by the priests, these were now solemnly eaten, and at the very moment the feast was consummated came the news that the band of demoniac marauders had reoccupied the marshy wood behind the mountains of Waipio.
The tidings had scarcely reached the expectant chief when, lo! there was a tumult at the palace gate and, advancing a few steps, Kiha beheld the royal guard bringing into his presence the strangest looking old man he had ever seen. His hands were tied behind his back for more security, but at his heels followed an object still stranger to the eye. It was a dog, a big, ill-shapen beast of no earthly breed. It had blue bristles, its ears were human and the eyes were small and fiery, like those of a demon, one burning with a greenish light, and the other white.
The charge against the man was that of stealing awa, and it was represented that the dog, in this business, was his accomplice and a marvellously cunning brute. Across the mind of the king, however, there flashed the prediction of the oracle, which he had kept hoarded up in his mind. Surely, here, in this dog, was a being without hands and wearing neither malo nor mantle. Was not this the instrument of the gods, sent to his aid?
Without a moment’s delay he had the two, the man and the dog, sent to the heiau at Pakaalani, and thence he sent forth the dog to hunt through the mountains the wonder-working conch, and recover it from the hands of the thief.
There could be no doubt that the strange hound understood his mission, for he leaped through the open door, hurried to the mountains, and, after a long hunt, at length seized and bore away in his teeth the object of Kiha’s eight years’ quest. As, however, he was returning down the mountains, for one moment he dropped his spoil, and then there rang out upon the air a sound terrible to hear. For in the fall a tiny piece of the Kiha-pu, the very piece upon which was scratched the tabu cross of Lono, was broken off, and, liberated from silence, the old voice sounded forth as in the years gone by, startling the unaccustomed echoes of the mountains.
The robbers heard and, discovering their loss, started in pursuit. The king heard, too, and found it hard to possess his soul in patience till the dog’s return. Presently the door of the temple burst open and in rushed the green-eyed dog with the Kiha-pu in his mouth. The weird brute dropped it at the king’s feet, and then immediately fell dead. His companion, the awa-stealer, was inconsolable for his loss, but Kiha awarded to him a royally generous compensation, and then placing the horn to his lips blew such a blast as the mountains of Hawaii had not heard for many a year. The troops rushed together at the potent summons, and, led at once into the mountains, fell upon the demon band.
In a few hours the whole gang was exterminated, with the exception of Ika and two or three of his comrades, who were reserved for the sacrifices at the heiau, to be offered on the rededication of the Kiha-pu.
After this, Kiha took more care of his famous trumpet and regarded it as one of the chief talismans by which the authority of the throne was supported, but the awa-stealer, though having no further need of recourse to his old trade, deemed his new fortune no true compensation for the loss of his old friend, the green-eyed dog.