I.
Manoa is the most beautiful of all the little valleys leaping abruptly from the mountains back of Honolulu and cooling the streets and byways of the city with their sweet waters. And it is also the most verdant. Gentle rains fall there more frequently than in the valleys on either side of it, and almost every day in the year it is canopied with rainbows. Sometimes it is called, and not inappropriately, the Valley of Rainbows.
Why is it that Manoa is thus blessed with rains, thus ornamented with rainbows, thus cradled in everlasting green? Were a reason sought among natural causes, it would doubtless be found in a favoring rent or depression in the summit above the valley, and overlooking the eastern coast of Oahu, where wind and rain are abundant. But tradition furnishes another explanation of the exceptionally kind dealings of the elements with Manoa—not as satisfactory, perhaps, as the one suggested, but very much more poetic.
Far back in the past, as the story relates, the projecting spur of Akaaka, above the head of Manoa Valley, was united in marriage with the neighboring promontory of Nalehuaakaaka. A growth of lehua bushes still crowns the spur in perpetual witness of the union. Of this marriage of mountains twin children were born—a boy named Kahaukani, which signified Manoa wind, and a girl called Kauahuahine, which implied Manoa rain. At their birth they were adopted by a chief and chiefess whose names were Kolowahi and Pohakukala. They were brother and sister, and cousins, also, of Akaaka. The brother took charge of the boy, and the sister assumed the custody and care of the girl. Reared apart from each other, and kept in ignorance of their close relationship, through the management of their foster-parents they were brought together at the proper age and married. The fruit of this union was a daughter, who was given the name of Kahalaopuna, and who became the most beautiful woman of her time. Thus it was that the marriage of the Wind (Kahaukani) and Rain (Kauahuahine) of Manoa brought to the valley as an inheritance the rainbows and showers for which it has since been distinguished.
To continue the story of the ancient bards of Oahu, Kahalaopuna—or Kaha, as the name will hereafter be written—grew to a surpassingly beautiful womanhood. A house was built for her in a grove of sandal-trees at Kahaiamano, where she lived with a few devoted servants. The house was embowered in vines, and two poloulou, or tabu staves, were kept standing beside the entrance, to indicate that they guarded from intrusion a person of high rank. Her eyes were so bright that their glow penetrated the thatch of her hale, and a luminous glimmer played around its openings. When bathing a roseate halo surrounded her, and a similar light is still visible, it is claimed, whenever her spirit revisits Kahaiamano.
In infancy Kaha was betrothed to Kauhi, a young chief of Kailua, whose parents were so sensible of the honor of the proposed union that they always provided her table with poi of their own making and choice fish from the ponds of Kawainui. The acceptance of these favors placed her under obligations to the parents of Kauhi and kept her in continual remembrance of her betrothal. Hence she gave no encouragement to the many chiefs of distinction who sought to obtain glimpses of her beauty and annoyed her with proffers of marriage. The chief to whom she was betrothed was, like herself, of something more than human descent, and she felt herself already bound to him by ties too sacred to be broken.
The fame of her beauty spread far and near, and people came from long distances to catch glimpses of her from lands adjoining, as she walked to and from her bathing-pool or strolled in the shelter of the trees surrounding her house. Among those who many times approached her dwelling but failed to see her were Keawaawakiihelei and Kumauna, two inferior chiefs, whose eyes were disfigured by an unnatural distention of the lower lids. In ungenerous revenge, and envious of those who had fared better, they decked themselves with leis of flowers, and, repairing to the bathing-place at Waikiki, boasted that the garlands had been placed around their necks by the beautiful Kaha, with whom they affected the greatest intimacy.
Among the bathers at that popular resort was Kauhi. Although the day fixed for his marriage with Kaha was near at hand, he had never seen her—this being one of the conditions of the betrothal. The stories of the two miscreants were repeated until Kauhi at length gave them credence, and in a fit of jealous fury he resolved to kill the beautiful enchantress who had thus trifled with his love.
Leaving Waikiki in the morning, he reached Kahaiamano about midday. Breaking from a pandanus-tree a heavy cone of nuts with a short limb attached, he presented himself at the house of Kaha. She had just awoke from a nap, and was about to proceed to her bathing-pond, when she was startled at observing a stranger at her door. He did not speak, but from frequent descriptions she at length recognized him as Kauhi, and with some embarrassment invited him to enter. Declining, and admitting his identity, he requested her to step without, and she unhesitatingly complied. His first intention was to kill her at once; but her supreme loveliness and ready obedience unnerved him for the time, and he proposed that she should first bathe and then accompany him in a ramble through the woods.
To this she assented, and while she was absent Kauhi stood by the door, moodily watching the bright light playing above the pond where she was bathing. He was profoundly impressed with her great beauty, and would have given half the years of his life to clasp her in his arms unsullied. The very thought intensified his jealousy; and when his mind reverted to the disgusting objects upon whom he believed she had bestowed her favors, he resolved to show her no mercy, and impatiently awaited her return.
Finishing her bath and rejoining him at the door, her beauty was so enrapturing that he was afraid to look at her face, lest he might again falter; it was therefore with his back turned to her that he declined to partake of food before they departed, and motioned her to follow him. His actions were so strange that she said to him, half in alarm:
“Are you, indeed, angered with me? Have I in any way displeased you? Speak, that I may know my fault!”
“Why, foolish girl, what could you have done to displease me?” replied Kauhi, evasively.
“Nothing, I hope,” returned Kaha; “yet your look is cold and almost frightens me.”
“It is my mood to-day, perhaps,” answered Kauhi, increasing his pace to give employment to his thoughts; “you will think better of my looks, no doubt, when we are of longer acquaintance.”
They kept on together, he leading and she following, until they reached a large rock in Aihualama, when he turned abruptly, and, seizing the girl by the arm, said:
“You are beautiful—so beautiful that your face almost drives me mad; but you have been false and must die!”
Kaha’s first thought was that he was making sport with her; but when she looked up into his face and saw that it was stern and smileless, she replied:
“If you are resolved upon my death, why did you not kill me at home, so that my bones might be buried by my people? If you think me false, tell me with whom, that I may disabuse your mind of the cruel error possessing it.”
“Your words are as fair as your face, but neither will deceive me longer!” exclaimed Kauhi; and with a blow on the temple with the cone of hala nuts, which he was still carrying, he laid her dead at his feet. Hastily digging a hole beside the rock, he buried the body and started down the valley toward Waikiki.
He had scarcely left before a large owl—a god in that guise, who was related to Kaha and had followed her—unearthed the body, rubbed his head against the bruised temple, and restored the girl to life. Overtaking Kauhi, Kaha sang behind him a lament at his unkindness. Turning in amazement, he observed the owl flying above her head, and recognized the power that had restored her to life.
Again ordering Kaha to follow him, they ascended the ridge dividing the valleys of Manoa and Nuuanu. The way was beset with sharp rocks and tangled undergrowth, and when Kaha reached the summit her tender feet were bleeding and her pau was in tatters. Seating herself on a stone to regain her breath, with tears in her eyes she implored Kauhi to tell her whither he was leading her and why he had sought to kill her. His only reply was a blow with the hala cone, which again felled her dead to the earth. Burying the body as before he resumed his way toward Waikiki.
Again flying to the rescue of his beautiful and sinless relative, the owl-god scratched away the earth above her and restored her once more to life. Following Kauhi, she again chanted a song of lament behind him, and begged him to be merciful to one who had never wronged him, even in thought. Hearing her voice, he turned, and without answer conducted her across the valley of Nuuanu to the ridge of Waolani, where he killed and buried her as he had done twice before, and the owl-god a third time removed the earth from the body and gave it life.
She again overtook her merciless companion, and again pleaded for life and forgiveness for her unknown fault. Instead of softening his heart, the words of Kaha enraged him, and he resolved not to be thwarted in his determination to take her life. Leading her to the head of Kalihi valley, where she was for the fourth time killed, buried and resurrected as before, he next conducted her across plains and steep ravines to Pohakea, on the Ewa slope of the Kaala mountains. He hoped the owl-god would not follow them so far, but, looking around, he discovered him among the branches of an ohia tree not far distant.
As Kaha was worn down with fatigue, it required but a slight blow to kill her the fifth time, and when it was dealt to the unresisting girl her body was buried under the roots of a large koa tree, and there left by Kauhi, satisfied that it could not be reached by the owl-god. Repairing to the spot after the departure of Kauhi, the owl put himself to the task of scratching the earth from the body; but his claws became entangled with the roots, which had been left to embarrass his labors, and, after toiling for some time and making little or no progress, he abandoned the undertaking as hopeless, and, reluctantly left the unfortunate girl to her fate, following Kauhi to Waikiki.
But there had been another witness to these many deaths and restorations of Kaha. It was a little green bird that had flitted along unobserved either by Kaha or her companion, and had followed them from Kahaiamano, flying from tree to tree and making no noise. Noting with regret that the owl-god had abandoned the body of Kaha, the little bird, which was a cousin to the girl and a supernatural being, flew with haste to the parents of Kaha, and informed them of all that had happened to their daughter.
The girl had been missed, but as some of her servants had recognized Kauhi, and had seen her leave the house with him, her absence occasioned no uneasiness; and when the little green bird, whose name was Elepaio, recounted to the parents the story of Kaha’s great suffering and many deaths, they found it difficult to believe that Kauhi could have been guilty of such fiendish cruelty to the radiant being who was about to become his wife. They were convinced of Elepaio’s sincerity, however, and with great grief prepared to visit the spot and remove the remains of Kaha for more fitting interment.
Meantime the spirit of the murdered girl discovered itself to Mahana, a young chief of good address, who was returning from a visit to Waianae. Directed by the apparition, he proceeded to the koa tree, and, removing the earth and roots, discovered the body of Kaha. He recognized the face at once, notwithstanding the blood and earth stains disfiguring its faultless regularity. He had seen and become enraptured with its beauty at Kahaiamano, and on one occasion, which lived in his memory like a beautiful dream, he had been emboldened by his love to approach sufficiently near to exchange modest words and glances with it.
Gently removing the body from the shallow pit in which it had been buried, Mahana found to his great joy that it was still warm. Wrapping it in his kihei, or shoulder scarf, and covering it with maile ferns and ginger, he tenderly bore it in his arms to his home at Kamoiliili. As he walked he chanted his love and scarcely felt his burden. Reaching home, he laid the body upon a kapa-moe, and earnestly implored his elder brother to restore it to life, he being a kahuna and having skill in such matters.
Examining the body and finding that he could do nothing unaided, the brother called upon their two spirit-sisters for assistance, and through their instrumentality the soul of Kaha was once more restored to its beautiful tenement. But it was some time before she fully recovered from the effects of her cruel treatment—some time, in fact, before she was able to walk without support. In her convalescence Mahana was her considerate and constant companion, and found no greater pleasure than in providing her with the delicacies to which she had been accustomed. She was greatly benefited by the waters of the underground cave of Mauoki, to which she was frequently and secretly taken, and under the watchful care of Mahana she was at length restored to health.