“What is the cause of all that shouting down there?” said Pi-ko-i to his father, Ala-la the Raven. “They are playing olohu,” said Ala-la, his father. “And how is that game played?” said Pi-ko-i. “It is played in this way,” said his father. “There are two in the game; they roll a disk of stone, and the crowd shouts for the one who rolls it farthest. That is the reason of the noise down there.” “I will go down and look at the games they are playing,” said Pi-ko-i. “You cannot go,” said his father, “until after to-day.”

Later on there was more shouting. “What are they shouting for now?” said Pi-ko-i to Ala-la the Raven. “They are playing a game called pahee now,” said Ala-la. “They slide a stick down a grassy slope, and when the stick thrown by one slides farther than the stick thrown by another the people all shout.” “I will go and watch this game,” said Pi-ko-i. “You cannot go until after to-day,” said his father.

The next day there was shouting again at the same place. “What is this fresh shouting for?” said Pi-ko-i to Ala-la, his father. “They are playing a game now called ko-ie-ie.” “How is that game played?” said Pi-ko-i. “It is played in this way,” [70]said his father. “A board is smoothed and thrown into the river at a place near the rapids. It has to float steadily in one place without going down the rapids. The one whose board floats the steadiest without being carried over the rapids wins. That is the game of ko-ie-ie.” “May I go down to watch that game?” said Pi-ko-i. “You may go down and join in the game,” said his father.

Then Ala-la smoothed a board so that it would float steadily on the water, and he gave it to his son Pi-ko-i. Pi-ko-i then went where the crowd was; and this was the first time he had ever been with a crowd.

He had a sharp face, and he had little bones, and he had hair that was like a rat’s hair. When the crowd saw him they cried out, “A rat, a rat! What is a rat doing amongst us?” Pi-ko-i did not mind what they said; he went to where they were casting their boards on the current, and he cast on it the board that his father had smoothed for him.

It floated the steadiest of all the boards. It floated in one place without being carried down the rapids. The crowd shouted for Pi-ko-i. Then the other boys got jealous of him; they took his board, and they flung it over the rapids. Pi-ko-i jumped after his board. He was carried over the rapids and down to the sea. “A good riddance,” said the boys to each other. “What business has a rat coming amongst us?” [71]

Pi-ko-i was carried out to sea. For two days and two nights he floated on the currents of the ocean, and then he was washed up on the beach of another Island.

Now it happened that where he was washed up was near where his older sisters, I-ol-e and O-pea-pea, lived with their husbands. A man came down to the beach and found Pi-ko-i, and this man was Kaua, the good servant of I-ol-e and O-pea-pea. “Where have you come from?” said Kaua to Pi-ko-i when he found him on the beach, all wearied out, and weak from hunger and the buffeting of the ocean. “From the sea,” said Pi-ko-i. “Come with me,” said the good servant, and he brought the boy to his sisters’ house.

The servant spoke to the sisters and he said, “I found him lying on the sand, and all he says is that he has come from the sea.” “Where are you from? Where were you born, and who are your parents?” said the sisters to him. Pi-ko-i answered: “I am from Wai-lua on the Island of Kau-ai; Ala-la is my father, and Kou-kou is my mother.”

When he told them this, the women of the house knew that the boy was their brother. They sprang upon him, and they cried over him, and they told him that they were his sisters.

And then their husbands came home, and a great feast was prepared for Pi-ko-i. A pig was killed, yams were made ready, and pig and yams were put [72]into the underground oven to cook. But while the cooking was being done, Pi-ko-i left the house and wandered off to where there was a crowd and where games were being played.

The King and the Queen were at these games. It was a game of shooting that was on; a man was shooting arrows at rats, and the King and the Queen were making wagers on his shooting.

It was a Prince who was shooting arrows at the rats—Prince Mai-ne-le—and all thought that his aim was most wonderful. The King was winning all her property from the Queen, for he was laying wagers all the time on Mai-ne-le’s shooting.

Pi-ko-i stood and watched the game for a while. After the Prince had shot several arrows he said: “How simple all this is! Why, any one could shoot as this man shoots.” When the Queen heard the stranger boy say this, she said, “Could you shoot as well as the Prince?” “Yes, ma’am,” said Pi-ko-i. “Then I will wager my property on your shooting,” said the Queen.

The King kept on staking his property on the Prince’s shooting, while the Queen now staked hers on Pi-ko-i’s. Whoever should strike ten rats with one arrow would win, and whoever should strike less than ten would lose the match. Prince Mai-ne-le shot first. His arrow went through ten rats, and all the people shouted, “Mai-ne-le has won, Mai-ne-le has won! The stranger boy cannot do better than [73]that!” But Pi-ko-i only said, “How left-handed that man must be! I thought that he was going to shoot the rats through their whiskers!”

Prince Mai-ne-le heard what Pi-ko-i said, and he answered angrily: “You are a deceiving boy. From the first day I began shooting rats until this day, I have never seen a man who could shoot rats through their whiskers.” “You will see one now,” said Pi-ko-i.

Then bets were made as to whether one could shoot through rats’ whiskers. These were new bets, and when they were all made, Pi-ko-i made ready to shoot. But now the rats were all gone; not one was in sight. Thereupon Pi-ko-i said a charm to bring the rats near:

And when he said this charm the rats all came back. Pi-ko-i then let his arrow fly. It struck ten rats, and [74]the point of it held a bat. The rats were all made fast by their whiskers.

When Mai-ne-le saw this he said: “It is a draw. The boy shot ten rats, and I shot ten rats.” The people all agreed with Mai-ne-le—it was a draw, they said. But Pi-ko-i would not have it so. “The bat must count as a rat,” he said. “I have killed, not ten, but eleven rats.” The crowd would not agree. Pi-ko-i kept saying, “It counts as a rat according to the old words:

And when he said that, every one had to agree that the bat counted as a rat and that Pi-ko-i had killed eleven rats with his single arrow. And so he won the match against Prince Mai-ne-le.

While the wagers were being handed over, Pi-ko-i slipped away. He went back to his sisters’ house; he was there as the food was being taken out of the oven. He sat down to the food; he would not let any one speak to him while he ate. He ate nearly the whole oven-full. And when he had finished that meal he was a changed boy: he was no longer sharp-faced and small-boned; he still had hair like rat’s hair, but for all that he was now a fine-looking youth.

Shortly after this the King and Queen wanted to [75]have a canoe built in which they could sail far out on the ocean. The King went with his canoe-builders into the forest, so that they might mark for cutting-down a large koa tree. They came to a great tree. But before they could put the axe to it two birds flew up to the very top of the tree and then cried out in a loud voice, “Say, Ke-awe, you cannot make a canoe out of this tree; it is hollow.” And then they cried out, “A worthless canoe, a hollow canoe, a canoe that will never sail the ocean.”

When the King heard this he turned from the tree, and he and his canoe-builders sought out another. They found another fine-looking tree, but before they put an axe to it, the same two birds flew up to the very top of it and cried out, “A worthless canoe, a hollow canoe, a canoe that will never sail the ocean.” And to the top of every tree that the King and his canoe-builders thought was a good-timbered tree, the birds flew and made their unlucky cry, “A worthless canoe, a hollow canoe, a canoe that will never sail the ocean.”

Day after day the King and his canoe-makers went into the forest, and day after day the birds flew to the top of every tree that they would cut down. At last the King saw that he could get no canoe-making tree out of the forest until he had killed the birds that made the unlucky cry.

So he sent for Prince Mai-ne-le to have him kill the birds while they were crying on the tree-top. [76]And he promised him, or any one else who would kill the birds, his daughter in marriage and a part of the land of his kingdom.

Now when Kaua, the good servant, heard of the King’s offer he made up his mind that the boy whom he had found on the sand should win the King’s daughter and a portion of the land of the Island. So he went to where Pi-ko-i was, and he told him all that he had heard. “And if you are able to shoot birds as you are able to shoot rats,” he said, “you will become son-in-law to the King and one of the great men of the Island. But Prince Mai-ne-le is going to let fly his arrow at the birds, and perhaps you will not want to match yourself with him,” said he.

When the servant said that, Pi-ko-i rose up from where he was sitting, and he said: “I am going to shoot at the birds that make the unlucky cry, and you must do this for me.” Thereupon he told Kaua that he should make a large basket, and that he should tell every one that this basket was for the safe-keeping of his idol. Into this basket he, Pi-ko-i, would go and remain hidden there. And Kaua was to go with Prince Mai-ne-le’s party, and he was to bring the basket with him, being careful, though, to let no one find out that there was a man in the basket. Kaua made the basket out of i-e vines, and Pi-ko-i went and hid in it. Then Kaua took the great basket, and went and joined Mai-ne-le’s party. [77]

The canoes made swift passage, for the evening breeze behind them sent them flying, and by the dawn of the next morning they were able to make out the waterfalls on the steep cliffs of the land where the forest was that the King walked in. They landed. Kaua was able to get men to carry the basket that had, as all supposed, his idol in it. They entered the forest, and they came to where the King and his canoe-makers were.

They were under a great koa tree. To mark it the men raised their axes. As they did so the birds flew to the top of it and cried out their unlucky cry: “Say, Ke-awe, you cannot make a canoe out of this tree. A worthless canoe, a hollow canoe, a canoe that will never sail the ocean!”

As soon as the cry was heard Prince Mai-ne-le shot at them. His arrow did not go anywhere near the birds, so high was the tree-top, so far above were they. Then the King’s men built a platform that was half the height of the tree. From the platform Mai-ne-le shot at the birds again, and again his arrow failed to reach them. Then Pi-ko-i from the basket whispered to Kaua. “Ask Mai-ne-le and ask the King why the birds still cry out and why they have not been hit. Is it because Mai-ne-le is not really shooting at them?” Kaua said all this to the King. Prince Mai-ne-le, when he heard what was said, replied, “Why do you not shoot at the birds yourself?” And then he said: “There are the birds, [78]and here is the weapon. Now see if you can hit them.” “Well,” said Kaua, “I will ask my idol.” He opened the basket then, and Pi-ko-i appeared. He had changed so much since he had eaten the feast in his sisters’ house that no one there knew him for the stranger boy who had beaten Mai-ne-le in the shooting-match before.

And what he said made all of them amazed. He asked the King to have a basin of water brought to the tree. It was brought. Pi-ko-i then stood looking into the water. He saw the reflection of the birds that were on the tree-top far, far above. He held his arms above his head; his arrow was aimed at the birds whose reflection he saw in the water. He brought the arrow into line with them; he let it fly. It struck both of them; they fell; they came tumbling down. Into the basin of water they fell, and the people, on seeing the great skill shown by Pi-ko-i, raised a great shout.

Then the canoe-makers got to work, and after many days’ labor they hewed down the great tree. The canoe was built for the King and the Queen, and they went in it and sailed on the ocean. Pi-ko-i was with them when they made the voyage. But before that, they had given him their daughter in marriage, and together with the girl they had given him a portion of the land of Hawaii. Out of the portion that was given him Pi-ko-i gave land to Kaua, and the good servant became a rich man. And as [79]for Mai-ne-le, he was made so ashamed by his second defeat by young Pi-ko-i that he went straight back to his own land and never afterwards did he shoot an arrow. [81]