“I have come, monk,” said he, “according to promise, to hear your final answer. For the last time I ask, will you assist me to wed Beatriz, and live? Methinks the sights and odors about you must have quickened your reflections. Remember, yes is still in time, but shortly no power can save you from your doom.”
“Leave me, Mexican,” replied Olmedo, “my few remaining hours in peace. My answer has been already given. I will not join in your treachery to save myself. Beatriz may die, but she never will be dishonored.”
“Even now her life and honor depend upon your answer. Make her my wife, and she shall be queen of Hawaii. Hear me! No other faith but yours shall exist in Hawaii. This I swear, and you shall be its chief minister. My plans are ripe. I have but to lift my finger and they turn either way, as you decide,” urged Tolta, in his eagerness, forgetting the doubts that but shortly before clouded his mind and angered him.
“Your offers and your threats are alike useless, Tolta. I have not the power, if I had the will, to make Beatriz love you. I may perish, and she too, but we both will die with souls unsullied by falsehood,” answered Olmedo. “Even now He to whom I pray, upholds me and gives me peace. Go, and tempt me no further.” And he turned his face from him in sadness, firmly refusing to listen to him any more.
“Then perish, you and yours; all in whom flows Spanish blood. I doom you all.” Saying this, Tolta left the house, and returned towards the fortress, at each step venting his anger in execrations upon the obstinacy, as he called it, of the monk.
CHAPTER XXIV.
It may be readily imagined that Beatriz listened eagerly to a conversation which gave her the clue to all the tortuous actions of Tolta in regard to herself and Olmedo. He had no sooner gone than she entered, throwing back the covering to her face, which, amid the general excitement, had enabled her to pass unobserved among her companions, who, immediately coming after, imitated her example. Notwithstanding the suddenness of her appearance, and the obscure light, Olmedo knew her at once, and greeted her with an exclamation of joyful surprise. The guards, challenging the intruders, were about to take them into custody, but perceiving their young chiefess, and two of them recognizing their wives, they were at a loss what to do; whether to give an alarm, which would be their death-warrant, or by acquiescing in the sacrilege, run the risk of being themselves involved in their crime. Their attachment to Liliha proved stronger than their fears, as she partly appealed to their personal fealty, and partly commanded their services, seconded by her women, who, having now irrevocably committed themselves, had no other resource than to bribe or cajole them to silence. Still they were incurring, as they well knew, a fearful hazard, and they heartily wished themselves out of the net into which they had been led by their inexperienced mistress. She herself did not reflect how the adventure might terminate, now that she had missed her father, but was so absorbed in her desire to save Beatriz, that she thought of nothing else. Indeed she entered as impulsively into every act that had that in view, as she would have into any scheme of pleasure. It was the first time she had ever taken any serious responsibility upon herself, unknown to or unadvised by her father. Up to this moment she had fully expected to meet him, not doubting but that, as usual, he would accede to her wishes. Could she have read in his calm exterior the closely weighed policy which decided every question solely in reference to his ambition, and made him patient or impetuous, kind or cruel, priest or infidel, selfish or generous, only as interest swayed, she would have hesitated to approach him on such an errand. When he proposed to Olmedo to save him by substituting another victim, he was sincere. Not that he desired to spare him the pangs of the sacrifice, but that he might reserve him to gratify his inquisitive mind, after which he would have consigned him, with equal indifference, to death, or sent him back to Kiana, as his policy prompted. The refusal of Olmedo had perplexed him. It was an exhibition of character not within his calculation. He would not risk his popularity with the expectant multitude, by refusing to sacrifice Olmedo, as had been solemnly proclaimed; but, true to his promise to aid Beatriz, and hoping from her to obtain further disclosures of the acts of Tolta, he had set off soon after for his own residence. By taking the main road he missed Liliha, who arrived at the fortress at the same time that he reached his own house. Thus it was that the maiden was left solely to her own resources, as she was told by the guards her father had returned to his home, and would not be back before early morning.
When she heard this her heart failed her, and she wrung her hands, exclaiming, “What can be done? By morning it will be too late. I will go to Pohaku. He will not refuse the daughter of Hewahewa her petition.”
“Nay, nay, our chiefess, you would bring ruin to us all, and to your father also. Think not of this. He is as merciless as death. Like a maddened boar, he will rend us all,” both women and guards exclaimed in one breath, as each began to discuss how to escape from their present perilous position.
While this was going on, Beatriz had explained to Olmedo all that had occurred since they parted, and he had told her his history. His first idea in seeing her was that she had been brought to share his fate, but finding that she was comparatively free and with friends, hope began to revive in each for the other. Overhearing the discussion between the women and the guards, Olmedo said, “These friendly natives must not be put to death for me. We must either all depart, or you must go as you came, and leave me to my destiny. Some other mode of escape may offer, which shall not risk so many lives for one.”
“I will never again leave you, Olmedo. If you remain, I remain; if you go, I go. Whatever your fate may be, I am here to share it,” said Beatriz.
“Say not so, my daughter, my Beatriz. Go with those who brought you here. They can guard you safely back to Juan. If you remain with me, they are lost. Surely you would not cost them their lives. Go while there is yet time. God will guard you. As for me, I am a soldier of the cross, and it is meet that I should offer up my life rather than violate its holy principles. There,” said Olmedo, tenderly taking her hand and putting it into that of Liliha, “depart with her. She will rescue you and restore you to your brother.”
Withdrawing her hand from Liliha’s, Beatriz took Olmedo’s, and fixing her expressive eyes on his, firmly and slowly said, “My resolution is formed. Did you ever know me to swerve from my decision? Go, I pray you,” said she, turning to Liliha. “May the Holy Virgin reward you for your kindness, dear sister. Embrace me. Your father, should he come to know this, would not be cruel to his daughter for her love to the white maiden.”
But Liliha clung convulsively to her and refused to part. “I cannot give you up,” said she. “I am your sister. If you stay, I will stay. You shall not die so cruel a death,” and she sobbed like an infant, while her women, terrified at her words, urged her to delay no longer. The guards added their entreaties, for at any moment some of the priests might return, and then all would be lost.
Olmedo, seeing the unfortunate turn Beatrix’s endeavor to save him was taking, here interposed, as a new idea suggested itself, saying, “Calm yourselves and listen to me. If these good men,” speaking of his guards, “will consent, we can be all saved.”
“How! What do you propose? I will answer for my people,” eagerly exclaimed Liliha.
“Then let us all fly at once, taking the shortest and safest route to Kiana’s territory. Some of you must know the country well. He will reward you all to the extent of your desires, and protect you from the vengeance of your chief.”
“And leave my father! What will he think of me? I must not forsake him,” said Liliha, with a filial firmness that threatened to extinguish the last hope of rescue for Beatriz.
“It will be but for a short time, noble maiden,” urged Olmedo. “He will pardon you for an act of mercy—for saving the life of your friend and sister. You have gone so far that there is safety in no other course. Finish your merciful work, my daughter, and the blessings of the God of the Christian will ever attend you, and his holy saints have you always in their keeping. The Great God wills it. Your heart is too tender to leave her to suffer so cruelly from the malice of a stranger to your race and ours. Your women, too; think of them; their visit here cannot long be concealed. As soon as it is known, they will be inhumanly tortured, and sacrificed to demons. Would you have the blood of all these upon your head? No. Your father will not blame you.”
“The stranger priest speaks well,” interposed Umi, the captain of the guards, glad of an opportunity to desert the service of Pohaku for that of Kiana, and seeing in this affair an occasion to recommend himself to that chieftain. “By sunrise we can reach the territories of Kiana if we start now. I know a city of refuge near the frontier, where we can be in safety until he comes to our rescue. Let us go at once.”
“For my sake, for the love you bear your father, save mine,” pleaded Beatriz, embracing her.
The women and guards added their entreaties, so that Liliha hesitated no longer. “Be it so,” said she, “I yield for your sakes, but my heart misgives me for deserting my father.” But there was no time for further indecision, so they bore her half-reluctantly forward, leaving the heiau by the gate farthest from the fortress, fortunately meeting no one. It wanted an hour and a half of midnight. The moon rose as they reached a path that skirted the crater on its northern side. By its light they made tolerably quick progress over the rough country, in the direction of the eastern shore of Hawaii.
They had been gone about three hours, when Tolta walked once more towards the heiau, desirous of seeing his captive again before he was wholly given up to Hewahewa, for the terrible rites of the dawning festival. Surprised and angry at finding the temple wholly deserted, his first thought was, that the guards and priests, whose duty required them to have been there at that hour, had left their captive and gone to indulge in the orgies at the fort. He searched everywhere without finding a trace of Olmedo, and was on the point of going back to seek Hewahewa, and demand why the prisoner had been removed, when he saw something bright lying on the ground, close by the gate farthest from Pohaku’s quarters. Picking it up he recognized the well-known rosary of Beatriz. Immediately the misgiving crossed his mind that by some means he was unable to account for, she had been able to release Olmedo, and they had fled. Alone and unassisted, such a deed was impossible. She must, therefore, have secured aid from some one, able either to overawe or bribe those who had the custody of Olmedo. His suspicion fell at once upon Hewahewa. “He seeks to ingratiate himself with Kiana,” thought he, “by revealing the plot and restoring the prisoners. But why? What motive can there be for such a step, when our joint plans were so nigh success?” Confiding his discovery to no one, he went back to the fortress, hoping that he might find Hewahewa, and learn from him that he was wrong in his conjecture. He was as unsuccessful in getting tidings of him as of Olmedo. Doubt now ripened into certainty, and he felt sure that Hewahewa had not only released the prisoners, but accompanied them in their flight. “The traitor, does he think to foil me thus? I will have his head and one rival the less. I never liked his ominous silence,—his thought is as secret as the grave. But they cannot have gone far. I must pursue and capture them before this gets to the ears of Pohaku. Caught in the act, he will then be sure not to spare even his favorite priest. Beatriz must still be kept from his sight. The war once begun, he will hence have enough to glut his passions without thinking of the white woman. It will go hard with me if some lucky blow may not put an end to him. Then, Tolta, you are supreme.”
So musing, pleased at the opportunity that offered for catching Hewahewa in the same net which he had been spreading, and not doubting but that in a few hours he should return successful from the pursuit, he apprised his most trusty partisans that he had need of their services, and without letting them know his object until fairly upon the road, he made all possible haste to come up with the fugitives. Trained to forest warfare, his men once upon the route found no difficulty in tracking, even by the uncertain light of the moon, the party in advance, whose progress, encumbered as it was with women, was necessarily much slower than their own.
While Tolta was pursuing Olmedo, Hewahewa, surprised at not finding his daughter and Beatriz at his own house, was on his return to the fortress to learn further tidings of them. His people knew only that they were missing, and that a party of women had left quite early in the day in that direction. They supposed that their mistress, curious to witness the spectacle, had secretly gone for that purpose. The high-priest arrived at the stronghold in about an hour after Tolta had left, presuming he should have no difficulty in detecting Liliha through any disguise. He anxiously sought for her among the different groups that were prolonging their carousings into the morning, and searched every house, but equally in vain. At last he went to the temple, though believing it impossible that she could have braved the terrors of the tabu, either from curiosity or to gratify the white woman. He was more astonished than even Tolta at its desertion, and could scarcely credit his sight. The heiau was a complete solitude. Its foul offerings polluted the night air, and sent up their reeking incense to impish idols, unwatched by human eyes. Excited as his feelings were for the safety of the only being he loved, never had the gloomy precincts of the sacred enclosure and its disgusting rites appeared to him as they did now. He was repelled and disgusted, and as he recalled the words and resolute self-denial of Olmedo, he felt disposed to proclaim the whole a delusion. But the thought was only momentary. As he discovered the absence of Olmedo, he remembered what the white priest had told him of the proffered treachery of Tolta, and he suspected that Olmedo might have relented at the last moment and consented to his plans. Liliha no doubt had been seduced to conduct Beatriz to the fortress in disguise, and the whole party had fled with the guards. Instead, therefore, of surprising Kiana, that chieftain, led by Tolta, would shortly be down upon them with all his force. Enraged at the abduction of his daughter, which he attributed to the Mexican, and hoping to defeat his intentions, he hurried to Pohaku, and related the circumstances and his conclusions.
That chief was still engaged with the sorcerers, and as the auguries had not improved, his temper was in its most savage mood. He heard, however, without interrupting, the story through.
Starting up, he roared rather than spoke, “The lying hound, the whelp of a wild dog—no marvel that the sacred signs failed before his false eyes. Arm ye, all, and pursue the traitor. My richest valley shall be the prize of his capturer—off men to the hunt, but leave him to be dealt with by me. He who lags behind shall feel my spear.”
Clutching his weapons he rushed out, followed by the fiercest and most resolute of his retainers, who, eager to win the reward, tumultuously pushed forward; but Pohaku, maddened by his abortive witchcraft, and the deceit of his tempter, soon outstripped them all, and intent upon revenge, went on at a pace to which few of his men were equal.
Hewahewa perceived that Tolta had not gone alone, as many able fighting men were missing. He concluded, therefore, that he had partisans, and would make fight, should he be overtaken before joining Kiana. The fury of Pohaku might defeat its object, unless sustained by his regular force. So calling together as many companies of the warriors under their chiefs, as the debauch had left fit for immediate service, he led them in military array after Pohaku. Thus it happened that within a few hours, these different parties, actuated by such conflicting emotions, in wild chase of or from each other, were on the road to Kiana’s territories.
CHAPTER XXV.
The reason why Tolta missed entrapping Juan at the same time with Beatriz, was this. Early on that very morning he had set out with Kiana to hunt wild boars in a forest in the district, now known as Puna, but which at that date was about equally divided between the territories of Kiana and Pohaku. It would be impossible for the traveller of the present day to recognize the localities of the events of this chapter, on account of the repeated changes in the features of the country, occasioned by the successive eruptions of Kilauea since that period. Even the coast line has been greatly extended and altered. When the Spaniards first arrived at Hawaii, the volcano had for a long period been quiet in this direction. Consequently, the country had become overgrown with vegetation, which mantling the abrupt mountain spurs, and numerous lava raised hills, and wide extended plains gave it a highly picturesque appearance. Cultivation was spread over its surface but very slightly. In general, it was a fertile wilderness, sparsely peopled, but prolific with the game of the country. On this account it was much frequented by the sporting warriors of both the chieftains, whose followers, in pursuing the chase, not unseldom met in deadly conflict. There was, therefore, a double risk to the adventurer in exploring its wilds. In escaping the tusks of an infuriated animal, he might fall upon the spear of an ambushed foe.
The very dangers of this territory were the origin of its most redeeming feature. Abounding in wild forests, it naturally became a refuge to the escaped slave, or oppressed tenant, and even the fugitive from justice, who without the intervention of an institution, which I will now describe, would, from their common perils, have banded together, and made themselves formidable as robbers or assassins.
I refer to the Pahonua, or to adopt the phraseology of the Israelities, in a kindred institution, the ‘city of refuge.’ The analogy between the two is very striking. With both, it was a necessity as a check upon the prevalent laws of retaliation, the barbarous character of their warfare, and their system of justice, so liable to perversion from the caprices or tyranny of their rulers. It affords also consoling evidence of the disposition of mankind, even in the least improved condition, to correct evil. It is true, that like the sanctuaries of the Roman Catholic Church, they were liable to abuse, and were available to the criminal, as well as the innocent, but in a rude society, they afforded a wholesome check upon revenge, whether private, or under judicial forms, and served in a considerable degree to mitigate the otherwise unendurable ferocity of war.
A river, having its source in Mauna Kea, flowed through this region. It was a rapid, impetuous stream, much broken by rocks and whirlpools, and fed by numerous cascades and torrents from the neighboring hills. As it rained a great deal in this vicinity, it was generally swollen. Near the sea the river forced its way between precipitous banks, with much roaring and many abrupt leaps, at times quieted by the depth of its waters, as it reached some rocky dell, and at others spreading out into a quick, broad current, until it finally expanded itself into the sea, amid the thundering of breakers, over a treacherous bottom of moving sands. Only in the calmest weather could canoes venture to cross its bar. There were a few spots where sufficient land had been gained from the river, higher up the valley by dykings, so as to repay careful cultivation with rich crops. Here the banana and taro grew most luxuriantly, ripened into a luscious flavor by the sun’s rays, caught and retained between the steep, verdure-clad banks. Dams were partly thrown across the river in several places near its mouth, diverting portions of it into artificial ponds, well stocked with fish, particularly the delicious mullet, which being reared in brackish water, acquired a flavor and fatness unknown to the species bred elsewhere.
Besides these signs, there were many others of peace and abundance in the immediate vicinity. They were due to the presence of a spacious Pahonua built of stone, situated upon the river’s left bank, which there formed an easy precipice, affording a pleasing contrast to the lofty and jetting crag opposite. The juncture of the fresh water with the salt tide of the ocean, took place almost under the walls of the city of refuge, occasioning eddies, admitting of a ford, though at no time safe, because of quicksands.
The tutelar deity of this Pahonua was Keave, now worshipped, or more properly speaking, sainted; for the formula of the Roman Catholic Church is in this respect as applicable to the paganism of Hawaii, as to its own more enlightened ritual. Keave was simply the benevolent founder of this particular institution, the building of which was, considering its purpose, solidity and extent, as creditable to his sanctity and enterprise, as have been any of the numerous monasteries of the papal church, to their canonized founders. Canonization is indeed but another form of heathen deification. The creation of this Pahonua, the natives being destitute of machinery for raising large masses of stone, was in truth a prodigious feat. In its walls were blocks weighing upwards of two tons, elevated six feet or more above the ground. Around it were the sacred images, usually placed upon such structures. Within, there were several pyramidal temples, besides a sufficient number of houses for the people likely to take refuge therein. The limits of the sanctuary extended to a certain distance outside the walls, marked by white flags, while its charge devolved upon a class of priests,—monks they might aptly be called, if we set aside the vow of chastity—who with their servants were permitted to slay any one that transgressed their privileges. Like themselves, their property was sacred, which accounts for the oasis they had created amid the otherwise forbidding scenery and its pertinent perils. Whoever once got safely within their precincts, became inviolable. This personal security extended to a certain time after the refugee had returned to his home, as the protecting spirit was supposed to still abide with him, though guilty of the foulest crimes, or even of violating the most solemn tabus. Before a fight, the women and children of both the belligerents, assembled in the Pahonua for security. After the battle was won, the vanquished also fled to it to secure that mercy which the conqueror rarely granted. All made offerings to the deified founder, as does the Roman Catholic to his patron saint, in gratitude for favors vouchsafed.
Olmedo and his party arrived soon after sunrise, without interruption, at the base of a sharp mountain ridge, which intervened between the river and the more level ground over which they had passed. It was not lofty, but, owing to its dense vegetation, extremely difficult to scale, except at one point where the natives had, by frequent traversing, worn a rude passage. Path it could not be called, for the jungle was so thick, and the branches of the trees so interlocked, that it offered much of the way a series of climbing and leaps, more suited to the habits of a monkey than a human being. There were other points of access to the river, but Umi had selected this as much the shortest, though it involved greater fatigue. For a considerable distance the party was obliged to go in Indian file up a rapid ascent, which formed the backbone of the spur, and was so narrow, that to unpractised feet it was safer to sit upon it, as on a saddle, and to hitch themselves along by the help afforded by the coarse grasses and ferns. On either side was a steep precipice, covered with a slippery coating of rank verdure. Before arriving at the summit the path became so obstructed with trees of a large growth, imbedded in a tangled network of shrubs and vines, that the utmost caution was required to prevent the weaker members of the party from becoming inextricably involved therein. Often they were obliged to find a foothold on branches elevated twenty feet and even more, from the soil, and clinging to the limbs above them, slowly work their way through the vegetable barrier. The sun’s rays never penetrated the leafy canopy overhead, though to the almost constant rains they were a slight obstacle. These had caused a luxuriant growth of mosses which encircled every limb, making them appear double their real size, and frequently hiding their decay. In grasping the seemingly stout branch it would prove to be a flexible twig or a rotten stick, and giving way, precipitate the climber into beds of oozy vegetation, which, sponge-like, not only showered their chilling contents upon the wayfarers at every step, but, from their slimy coating, rendered both foothold and grasp very uncertain. Nothing short of the previous rough experiences of Beatriz, in the wild campaigns of Mexico, could have prepared her for an effort like the one she was now making. Her companions were indefatigable in their exertions to aid her. After two hours of excessive labor they had the satisfaction to stand upon the summit, and look down upon the river which separated them from the territories of Kiana.
“Look,” said Umi, “our toils are almost at an end. There is the Pahonua, and the priests will give us food and rest while we send for Kiana.”
“But what comes there?” exclaimed Olmedo, pointing to some objects moving along the narrow ridge they had just traversed, and which were hardly perceptible from their point of view.
All looked anxiously to the spot indicated, and were not long in perceiving Tolta, followed by several score of warriors, rapidly advancing towards them. At the same instant the Mexican caught sight of them, and they saw him pointing their party out to his followers, and urging them forward with impatient gestures. A wild shout of triumph broke from his men at the discovery, and they dashed forward in expectation of speedily seizing the fugitives. The difficulties of the ascent, however, so impeded their progress, as to give ample time to Umi to put into execution his plan of escape. Tolta had taken this difficult pass to the river, thinking to arrive on its banks in advance of those he pursued, and intercept them as they came by the longer but more easy route. He was therefore taken by surprise on discovering them ahead of him. His hope now lay solely in the greater speed of his men. With promises and threats he excited them to redoubled exertions, himself leading the way.
Fortunately for Beatriz and Olmedo, the descent towards the river was comparatively facile. Sending two of his men forward to aid the women, Umi with the others took post just at the crest of the mountain, where the path was so narrow that they could easily hold it against great odds. With their spears poised they awaited the onset of Tolta’s men.
While these incidents were in progress, Kiana and Juan, accompanied by a mixed train of not above one hundred men, warriors and servants included, were occupied in the chase. They were unaware of the abduction of the Spaniards and the subsequent events, having had no communication with their homes for several days. Indeed, although many of their people had missed their guests of late, as they were accustomed to their retirement at not unfrequent intervals, few besides their immediate attendants had manifested either curiosity or anxiety at their absence. But when three days had gone by without news of them, their retainers prepared to notify Kiana of the fact. Some had gone in pursuit of him on the very morning of the escape. But the hunters at early daylight had crossed the river at some distance above the Pahonua, and had been beating the forest at the foot of the mountain in pursuit of their game, with, however, but indifferent success. Wearied with their exertions, they were reposing in the shade of a grove about half way between its base and the river, when their attention was attracted by shouts proceeding apparently from the mountain. Soon several women were seen issuing from the forest, and running at full speed towards the river, followed by armed men, a few of whom, every now and then, faced about and stood on the defensive against others who were pursuing them. By this means the women made some progress, but evidently their strength was failing, and they must quickly be captured, especially as the foremost of their pursuers had overthrown his antagonist, and was gaining rapidly upon them.
It seems that Umi and his men had been unable to retard the progress of Tolta for a much shorter time than he anticipated. The followers of the Mexican had rushed fiercely upon them, and although beaten back, returned again and again to the charge, throwing their spears, and yelling frightfully to intimidate their foes. But Umi was too well practised in native warfare to be driven from his post by menaces, while he was sufficiently protected as to avoid much risk from the missiles of his assailants. Chafing at this delay, Tolta was himself preparing to close with Umi, when his quick eye caught sight of a vine overhanging the rock which effectually screened his enemy. With the spring of a wild cat he caught at it, and almost as quick as the thought had been formed, he had scrambled to the summit, whence he could look down upon Umi. Another leap would have brought him into his rear. Umi seeing this retreated, but, as he turned, dealt a quick blow to a careless assailant, which stretched him lifeless right in the way of his companions, who stumbled over him as they pursued him down the mountain. His men, taking somewhat different directions, followed, occasionally stopping to arrest the progress of their pursuers, that the women might have a chance to reach the river.
Kiana, surprised at this scene, called his men to stand by their arms, saying to Juan, “We must be on our guard. Pohaku, I suspect, is about to pay us the compliment of a visit. If so we shall find him fiercer game than we have yet seen this morning.”
Juan was too intently gazing upon the flying group to heed the remark. Suddenly he exclaimed, “That headmost warrior is Tolta. There is no mistaking his tiger spring. But what is the Mexican doing here? Jesus Maria! That robe belongs to no Hawaiian. By the holy saints it is our worthy priest. He must have strangely changed his nature to be marauding with that wily Aztec. But, no! the villain! he throws his javelin at him. There is foul work going on here. At them, Kiana, or they will slay the monk.” So saying, he rushed towards the assailant, calling upon Olmedo to turn towards him. Kiana and his men added their shouts to his, and ran quickly after him.
Their apparition seemed to paralyze both the pursuer and the pursued. With the latter, however, the hesitation was but brief. Recognizing her brother, Beatriz gave a cry of joyful surprise, and hastily bidding Liliha follow her, turned towards him. Juan knew her voice, though he could scarcely credit his senses on finding his sister in such a position. Both he and Kiana were immediately at her side. Overcome by her exertions, she fainted as she fell into Juan’s arms. Olmedo and the rest of the party were soon surrounded by the friendly warriors, eagerly inquiring the cause of their appearance and flight. Their story was told in a few words. A cry of vengeance upon the Mexican rose from every throat as his men called upon Kiana to lead them against the traitor.
Meantime Beatriz slowly came to. Both Juan and Kiana, in their anxiety for her, thought of nothing else, until she was able to confirm by her own lips the narrative of her faithful friends. Her weakness made her tale short, but the little she spoke, stopping at each broken sentence to gain strength, told much to her listeners. Olmedo was almost as feeble as she. Juan gave a look of grateful surprise at Liliha, as his sister, embracing her, presented her as her rescuer. His thanks were hearty and brief, but all other feeling was speedily lost in his desire to revenge the treachery towards Beatriz. Without stopping to count his foes, he sprang towards them, calling upon Tolta to prove himself a man by facing one.
Kiana was prompt to sustain him, but not before he had charged a portion of his retinue to escort the rescued party across the river, and place them in safety in the Pahonua, while he with the remainder would cover their passage. Less fiery than Juan, his first impulse was to see to their safety, then to look to their own, for he felt certain Tolta would not have undertaken an enterprise of so much danger, without being sustained by the whole power of Pohaku. That chief, therefore, he believed, would soon appear upon the field. As it was, Tolta had the superiority in numbers, and it would not be prudent to exhaust their strength before they knew what fresh dangers might be in store.
The Mexican, calling his men about him, determined to act solely on the defensive. It might have fared ill with Juan, had Tolta with his whole force made a rush upon him as he came towards them. Several of the most eager of his men did indeed sally from their ranks, to make a combined assault upon the white man. Their commander recalled them, but not before the foremost having struck at Juan with his mace a blow which he easily parried, was run through by his sword before he could recover his guard. This experience of the fatal skill and power of the weapon of the Spaniard made them more cautious, and they kept their ranks retreating slowly towards the rocky promontory directly facing the Pahonua. It was not far from this point that the road usually traversed from Kilauea, and leading to the somewhat dangerous ford before spoken of, joined the river. Tolta knew too much of Juan’s prowess to venture himself in combat with him, especially with inferior weapons. He noticed the fewness of Kiana’s men, and hoped before long Pohaku might join him, when their combined force would easily slay or capture their opponents.
Kiana and his men had now come up, and without making a direct assault were gradually pressing Tolta’s party back to the highest part of the precipice, which here overlooked the deepest waters of the river, though a little way below they became shallower as they approached the ford. Olmedo and his companions were already preparing to cross, having availed themselves of some canoes belonging to the priests of the Pahonua, which Kiana had borrowed early in the day for his own passage. The rising ground on which they now found themselves, gave Tolta’s men a decided advantage in resisting any attack. Their flank was protected by a dense thicket, which bordered the road that led from Kilauea, while the river effectually sheltered them on the right. Thus they were in a position either to retreat or to await a reinforcement. A messenger had been despatched by Tolta to Pohaku, as soon as he had made the discovery of the presence of Juan and Kiana. In the meantime he had determined to remain where he was. Should Kiana attempt to recross the river, he could sally down upon him at advantage.
Juan, irritated at Kiana’s prudence, demanded that they should attack Tolta at once, and drive his men into the river. But that chief would not waver from his surer policy, for he had also sent to summon his warriors to join him. By keeping his foes in their present situation, they would, before long, be enabled to assault them, certain of success; whereas now, a defeat or even a repulse would endanger the lives of those they had just rescued. Until Beatriz and Olmedo were within the Pahonua, it would be risking too much. Juan acquiesced in these measures, but swore he would not lose sight of Tolta while he lived.
Pohaku, as we know, had pursued Tolta, deceived by the report of Hewahewa. But few of his warriors had been able to keep up with him. The messenger that Tolta had sent, and who might have explained their position, had missed him. The enraged chief came in sight on the main road, soon after the hostile parties had assumed their present positions. Perceiving Kiana and his warriors, he was still more confirmed in his belief of Tolta’s treachery; believing that he had fled to rejoin that chief and surprise him. Without stopping to parley or to ascertain the truth, he roared out to Tolta’s men to make way, and sprang forward with a ferocious look towards the Mexican. The warriors, surprised and confused, for they had supposed he had come to their assistance, parted before him like water before a strong swimmer. Straight on towards Tolta he came foaming and cursing, and bidding him await his fate. The Mexican, at a loss to account for his sudden hate, supposed him gone mad and ordered his men to seize him, but they would have sooner, unarmed, crossed the tusks of the fiercest wild boar of the mountains, than have now put themselves in his path. With his spear poised, he stopped a few feet from Tolta, glaring upon him with blood-shot eyes. In another second he would have driven it clean through him, but Tolta’s instinct of life was quicker than even his rage. Seeing his hopeless position, he sprang aside and the spear glanced on the turf, tearing up the ground, and finally burying itself deep into it, remained with its haft quivering in the air. Pohaku, uttering a fearful howl of disappointed rage, ran towards him, intending to seize him with his naked arms, and to twist his spine. The Mexican, whose movements were quick and subtle, again dodged him, and sprang upon the cliff. As Pohaku rushed after, he aimed a stroke at him with his dagger, which would have reached his heart had it not struck upon an ivory ornament, which he wore upon his breast. The steel broke, and Tolta was left defenceless. The river was now his only chance. A precipice ninety feet high lay between him and it. With one bound he cleared its edge. So sudden was this movement and so desperate the leap, that all for the moment supposed him dashed to pieces on the rocks beneath. Striking the water, however, with his feet pointed like a wedge, and his arms clinging to his sides, he disappeared, but soon rose and struck out towards the Pahonua. The rapid current bore him towards the shallower waters. Here his feet touching the sand, he was obliged to walk now and then, sinking as the water deepened and compelled him again to swim. Suddenly he was seen to throw his arms wildly in the air, and to shriek for help to the priests who were watching him from the walls of the Pahonua. They ran hastily towards the water’s edge to rescue him, but perceiving his position they dared not trust themselves on the treacherous sands. His exertions to reach them were desperate, but every struggle sank him deeper. He had touched a quicksand, and its vortex was slowly sucking him down. Inch by inch he disappeared, each moment to him an eternity. His entire life of baffled ambition and revenge, with all the deeds of horror he had witnessed or participated in; all the better desires he had cherished and affections he had indulged; all of his dark and troublous career became legible in letters of fire to his quickened memory, and mingling with an obscure and despairing future, the terrible mythology of his earliest belief conflicting with the hated creed of the Spaniard, harrowed his soul. Fiercely he struggled for a while with his fate. The water became discolored by the sand his frantic exertions to release himself stirred up. But nothing could now save him. Conscious of this he became more quiet. As the waters covered his face its latest look was towards a group of females just landing at no great distance above him. One among them had seen the leap and after struggle. Shuddering she covered her head with her mantle, and was then praying for the soul of her enemy, whose hands, even after his head had sunk out of sight, were seen for an instant turned imploringly towards her.
This sight sobered even the rage of Pohaku, and arrested the attention of all. No sooner, however, was it over, than Juan, unable longer to restrain himself, called upon Kiana to avail himself of the confusion of their enemy and attack him. Setting the example, he sprung among them dealing fatal wounds at every stroke. Kiana and his men seconded him well, and the melée, it could scarcely be called battle, soon became general and bloody. Pohaku, who had regained his arms, rallied his men and fought with courage, but in skill he was not a match for his assailants, whose better discipline compensated for their inferior number. Three times, however, he foiled the desperate attack of the bravest of Kiana’s men, slaying several of them, and might at last have repulsed his foes had it not been for the impetuosity of Juan, who, calling to him to beware, closed upon the chief. Twice Pohaku succeeded in casting his javelin at him. The first blow he avoided by an active movement of his body, but the weapon whizzed so near as to bruise his left arm. The second javelin pierced his helmet, as he fortunately stumbled over a corpse, otherwise it would have brained him. Before he could recover himself, Pohaku had sprung forward with an uplifted war-club, which, with terrible force, was about descending on his head, when Kiana intercepted the blow by his mace. The warriors on both side sprang to the rescue of their chiefs, and in the rush Kiana’s men were borne back a few paces. He, however, held his ground, beating off his assailants, thus giving time to Juan to rise. “Leave this chief to me, he is my foe,” he cried to Kiana, and advancing once more upon him he easily parried his furious blows, and at every thrust drew blood, until watching a moment when Pohaku from sheer exhaustion struck less quickly and forcibly, Juan plunged his sword through his breast. His fall disheartened his men, and they began to recoil before the renewed efforts of their foes, when loud shouts were heard from the road, and soon after a regular body of warriors, outnumbering greatly all on both sides engaged in the present fray, marched upon the field.
It was Hewahewa with the warriors he had assembled after the hasty departure of Pohaku, whose soldiers recognizing them, re-formed in their rear, and awaited the orders of the high-priest.
Kiana drew his men off from the pursuit and arrayed them into a wedge-shaped phalanx, with its rear towards the stream. Juan and himself occupied the welau, or point which must receive the brunt of the onset, should an attack be made. On the other side of the river his followers who had escorted Beatriz over, seeing his danger, came back with the canoes and joined him. Thus he had it in his power to retreat, presenting the while a formidable front to his enemy.
Hewahewa, having learned the state of affairs, was not desirous of pushing him to extremity. His own immediate rivals, Tolta and Pohaku, were dead,—no small gain to him,—but his daughter was virtually in the power of Kiana. He was therefore disposed to terms. Sending a herald bearing a branch of the ti plant used as a flag of truce, he proposed a parley. To this Kiana assented, and it was finally agreed that Kiana should return to his own territories unmolested, Liliha remaining as a hostage, until he was on equal terms with his antagonist, after which they would treat for a general peace. Upon those terms, Kiana withdrew to his own side, while Hewahewa encamped where he was.