VI
PELE DECLARES FOR KAMEHAMEHA
The ancient kings of Hawaii showed their wisdom and their appreciation of the beautiful when they chose Waipio for a royal residence. There was no other spot in the Eight Islands so blessed by nature, prodigal as she was of her gifts from Niihau to Hawaii. A romantic valley nearly a mile wide at the seaward entrance, enclosed on the other sides by nearly perpendicular hills, clothed with grass, creepers and shrubs—such was Waipio. Winding paths led upwards amid the jutting rocks and threadlike cascades descending almost at one leap, forming the stream below which flowed deviously among the sand-hills to the sea.
At one time, says an old legend, the stream was more sluggish than now, but a great fish which lived off the Hamakua coast found the supply of fresh water too scanty for his need and appealed to Kane for more. In consequence, fresh springs were created, the bed of the river tilted up and the requisite increase of water obligingly supplied. The great fish is there no longer; but, if so disposed, you may still see the finger marks of Kane on the huge stones which he hurled into the river to raise its bed.
A hundred and eighteen years ago Waipio was still the loveliest spot in the Paradise of the Pacific. Here the palms were tallest, the foliage greenest, the blossoms brightest, the water coolest. And in recognition of this fact many were the folk who here made their abode. Along the foot of the mountains and extending up the valley as far as the eye could reach were little groups of grass huts looking almost as natural as the trees and mountains. Nearer the sea was part of the patrimony of Kamehameha, and many were the evidences of the labors in which the great chief, like a modern Cincinnatus, had indulged in the intervals of fighting his many foes. Here were the fish ponds, here the taro-patches, here even attempts at the construction of an aqueduct—attempts rendered, however, futile by the lack of adequate tools.
At the time of which we speak Kamehameha was at home, but nevertheless not bent upon peaceful pursuits. This was at once evident from a glance at the coral beach. Gigantic war canoes painted and pennoned lay along the sand mile after mile. A great double pirogue, containing mounted cannon and chests of firearms, was evidently the king’s own special craft. There were, however, several more or less seaworthy schooners of American build in the royal fleet.
In these Kamehameha and his army had come hurriedly back from Molokai, whither he had gone after his great victory in Maui. The battle in the Iao valley, known as the “damming of the waters,” had rendered him, for the time being, master of Maui, and, after sending one ambassador to Kauai to look out a powerful wizard and another to Oahu to interview Kahekili, he had gone himself to Molokai to secure influence over the high chiefess Kalola, her daughter Liliha and her granddaughter Keopuolani. With these on his side, or under his protection, Kamehameha knew he could appeal with every hope of success to the aristocratic instincts of the people.
But suddenly, almost from the blue sky, a thunderbolt had fallen into the midst of his plans. A messenger landed one morning with the news that Keoua in Hawaii had attacked and slain Keawemauhili in a battle near Hilo, had overrun and annexed his dominions in Puna and Kau, and had forthwith invaded the territories of Kamehameha in Hamakua, Waipio, and Waimea, destroying fish ponds and potato fields, and committing all kinds of barbarities.
Such news was an imperative summons to Kamehameha to return at once to Hawaii, and this he had done with his usual celerity. Keoua, taken by surprise, retreated to Paauhau in Hamakua and there awaited attack. Two bloody battles were fought, but neither side gained much advantage, and, while Keoua fell back on Hilo, Kamehameha withdrew to Waipio, where we now behold him, in November, 1790, getting ready for the final struggle.
Little groups of chiefs and warriors are sitting on the beach, polishing their weapons and talking of the prospects of the campaign.
“Kamehameha has been playing with Keoua so far,” said an old grizzled warrior, scarred with the wounds of twenty battles. “When he begins to fight real battles, he will win.”
“He has the favor of the gods,” said another; “he should soon make an end of rebellion.”
“Ay,” added a third, “what chief in Hawaii aforetime has been at once the guardian of Kaili, the war god, and the possessor of Kalaipahoa, the poison goddess?”
“And,” said Kamanawa, “the owner of the magic conch, Kiha-pu!”
“And has had the help of the white men,” interposed Kaiana, proud of his friendship with the haole captains, with whom he made a visit to China. “See what havoc the red-mouthed guns made in Kepaniwai!”
“Yea,” resumed Keeaumoku, “the ‘Lonely One’ must succeed. Years ago, when I withdrew from the battlefield because I knew no leader whose battle-shout stirred my blood, the old prophet Keaulumoku came across the hills from Lahaina to my dwelling and chanted me the events which were to come. That was years ago, but I wait in patience.”
“One thing Kamehameha lacks,” said a chief who had hitherto remained silent—and as he spake the others lifted their faces in expectant surprise—“one thing the lord of Kohala lacks. Marked you not the other night how, while we slept, there came a tremor of the earth which waked us all and brought cold blood to our hearts? If that same goddess who thus changed sleep into fear would come to the help of our chief, Keoua would not long remain in the upper air. Pele is stronger than the white man’s fire-breathing guns! But, behold! yonder comes the lunapai, and with him a goodly number of recruits for the war. Let us go and hear his news.”
As though the speaker’s thought were the thought of the whole camp, there was a simultaneous movement towards the lanai, whither the messenger had directed his steps. The excitement grew when it was seen that the lunapai had news. He had gone well nigh round the island, three hundred miles in nine days, and had met with signal success. There had been no need of the uluku to slit the ears of the recruits and drag them reluctant to the war. Goodly young men had joined him at every village, and Kamehameha’s ranks were swelled by a daily increasing army of those who had heard of his exploits in Maui and how he had at last avenged the slaughter on the sand-hills fifteen years before.
But the man had evidently something else to relate besides his success as a lunapai and, refusing to eat or drink until he told his tale, he only waited until Kamehameha, who had just come in from fishing, had taken his place on a couch of pulu and then began:
“O king, verily a mightier lunapai than Pakahala has gone through the island. Hearken, chiefs, and fear the gods! Hearken, warriors, and follow your lord, the beloved of heaven, to sure and happy victory!”
The chiefs and spearmen gathered round at once and a great silence was made. Then the orator resumed:
“Keoua assembled his warriors and set out for Kau. They marched, a great host lusting for the noise of battle, along the road which leads by the abode of Pele, the death-dealing Kilauea. Heedless of the power of the goddess, they rolled stones into the crater, unmindful of the sacrilege.
“But Pele was not pleased with their amusement, neither liked she to receive rocks instead of ohelo-berries. And when the men slept, she awakened in her anger and threw out the stones they had thrown in, with flame and cinders, to a great distance. Then were Keoua’s men afraid and in vain tried to soothe the goddess. But she refused to be appeased, and all through that day and the second and the third the earth shook and the fire leaped from the mountain, and the ashes rained down upon the host.
“Then on the third night Keoua spake and said: ‘Why stay we here to be consumed of Pele? Let us advance.’ So they advanced in three companies. The first company moved on over the mountain, and, verily, as they went they died a thousand deaths.
“For the earth rocked beneath their feet and darkness came forth from the crater which entered into their souls, and the thunder made their hearts quake, and the lightnings burned up many among them. From the pit beside them the fire glared red and blue and yellow, as though all the sisters and cousins of Pele were holding revel and mocking their victims. Scarce could they breathe, but they hastened on and gained at last the free air.
“After these marched the second company and, a little later, the third. These felt the earthquake and the showers of sand, but lost no men in the darkness and storm. As they pressed on, hoping soon to overtake their fellows, they rejoiced and each bade the other be of good cheer, since they had escaped the fury of the goddess.
“But, ere they had gone a hundred paces further, they saw a sight which moved their hearts with such a fear as comes to man but once in life. What was that crowd of warriors doing yonder, sitting silent on the earth? Were they asleep or turned to stone? There was the whole central band of the army, silent and still; some sat upright, some were lying down, some even yet embracing their wives and children, some joining noses, as taking leave one of another. And all was ghastly and still. Every heart was chilled with the cold shadow of death.
“Nevertheless, scarce could they believe the truth until they approached and touched and shook them. Then they knew that suddenly, as in a moment, the third part of Keoua’s army had been breathed upon by Pele, and the life had fled from them like vapor before the fire. But one living thing was there. It was a hog rooting among the trees, and the men were afraid, believing it to be Kamapuaa, the man-pig, spouse of the goddess. So they did not dare to stay to raise the wail of mourners. They hurried on and, after much time, reached the band which first crossed the mountain. From these, O king, I heard the story, and thither I am come to proclaim that the queen of Halemaumau has declared herself on our part. Verily, Pele has accepted thee for a son and will bring thee to the lordship of Hawaii!”
The concourse scarce awaited the orator’s peroration. A mighty shout arose from the host, and with one voice they cried: “E Kamehameha! Praise we the goddess of fire, gracious to us and to our lord.”
Kamehameha arose. He had thrown his cloak over his shoulders, donned his feather-helmet and grasped his terrible spear. Head and shoulders he appeared above every man in the assembly, and as he spake his form seemed to swell and his voice increase in power, as though the afflatus of the gods possessed him. Then he cried, and men in the canoes far out to sea heard his voice:
“Great is the favor of Pele! Now, chiefs and warriors of Hawaii, the time is come. On with the building of the great heiau! On with Puukohola! Make the altar ready for the body of the victim, even for Keoua. A few more days and Keliimaikai shall present Kaili the blood for which he thirsts. Keoua’s death-day draws nigh and the day of victory. Praise to Pele, dwelling in the vaults of eternal fire, the friend and guardian of Kamehameha, your king.”