I.
Two or three attempts to consolidate under one general government the several islands of the Hawaiian group were made by ambitious and war-like chiefs previous to the final accomplishment of the project, at the close of the last century, by Kamehameha I.; but all these early schemes of conquest and aggrandizement proved unsuccessful, and were especially unfortunate in affording excuses for retaliatory raids and invasions, sometimes extending, with more or less persistency and bitterness, to generations thereafter.
The most disastrous of these ambitious ventures was the first, and connected with it were a number of strange and dramatic incidents, giving to the story of the enterprise something more than a historic interest. It occurred in about A.D. 1260, and the bold warrior who attempted it was Kalaunuiohua, king of the island of Hawaii. He was the grandson of Kalapana, who reconquered the kingdom from Kamaiole, the usurper, as related in the story of “The Royal Hunchback.”
At that time Kamaluohua, the seventh in descent from Paumakua, was the moi of Maui, or rather of the western and greater part of the island. Huapouleilei, the eighth in line from Maweke, was the alii-nui of Oahu, his possessions embracing the districts of Ewa, Waianae and Waialua, while the Koolau and Kona divisions were ruled, respectively, by Moku-a-Loe and Kahuoi. The moi of Molokai was Kahokuohua, the fourth in descent in the old Nanaula line from Keoloewa, the brother of Kaupeepee, the abductor of Hina and desperate defender of the fortress of Haupu, as told in the legend of “Hina, the Hawaiian Helen.” Kukona was the sovereign of Kauai. He was the great-grandson of Ahukini-a-Laa, one of the three sons of the three wives of Laa-mai-kahiki, as mentioned in the story of “The Triple Marriage of Laa-mai-kahiki.”
The contemporary rulers of the several islands are thus referred to for the reason that they all appear as prominent actors in the several legends from which have been gathered the historic features of the story about to be related, and also for the purpose of keeping partially in view the conspicuous and succeeding representatives of the sovereign families of the group.
Kalaunuiohua—or, as he will be called hereafter, Kalaunui—inherited something of the military spirit of his warlike grandfather, and is referred to by tradition as an ambitious and aggressive sovereign, courageous in enterprise, but lacking in judgment and discretion. This estimate of his character is abundantly sustained by the record of his acts.
Waipio had been made the focus of sovereign authority by Kahaimoelea, the royal father of Kalaunui, and continued to be the most attractive and consequential point in the kingdom. The royal grounds and edifices had been enlarged and improved from time to time, until barbaric taste and skill seemed to be able to add nothing more to their grandeur or beauty. Not far from the royal mansion was the great heiau of Pakaalani, partially built by Kalapana, and completed by his successor. Its tabus were the most sacred on Hawaii, and a descendant of Paao officiated there as high-priest. It was connected with the palace enclosure by a sacred stone pavement, which it was death for any but royal and privileged feet to touch, and on its walls were over a hundred gods.
Kalaunui was proud of his ancestry, which carried back his lineage both to Pili and Maweke, and united in his veins the foremost blood of the pioneers of the fifth and eleventh centuries. He had two children—a son named Kuaiwa, and a daughter, Kapapa, whose full name was Kapapalimulimu. At the time of which we are writing she was fifteen, and her brother was three or four years older. Both had been carefully reared. The son had been instructed in all the manly accomplishments of the time, and from her infancy the daughter had been guarded with the most jealous watchfulness. She had grown almost to womanhood without betrothal, for the reason that a husband suited to her rank and personally deserving of her beauty could with difficulty be found in the kingdom.
Among the number of the king’s retainers of various grades of rank—beginning with the wohi, or chief counsellor of royal blood next to the throne, and ending with the kahu-alii and puuku, or personal and other attendants at the palace—was the young chief Kualu. He was large, muscular and handsome, with a bearing indicative of good blood, and through his courage and capacity at arms had been raised to the military position of pukaua, or captain, and placed in charge of the palace guard—an office which gave him, if he did not before possess it, the privilege of an aialo, or the right to eat food in the presence of the king.
Kualu was a chief without possessions. His grandfather, a chief of the old line of Nanaula, had been killed in the battle which restored Kalapana to the throne of his fathers, and on the sudden death of his father, twenty years before, he had been adopted by Waahia, a kaula, or prophetess, renowned in tradition for her foresight and influence. He was recognized by the Aha-alii, or college of chiefs of established lineage, as of noble blood, but belonged to that class of chiefs who, lacking the influence of family and estates, were compelled to rely upon their own efforts for advancement.
Although it is claimed that Waahia was of chiefly lineage, nothing is positively known, even of her parents. She first appeared in Waipio more than a generation before, and, through an almost undeviating verification of her prophecies, in time became noted and feared by the people, not only as a favored devotee of Uli, the god of the sorcerers, but as a medium through whom the unipihili, or spirits of the dead, communicated. She lived alone in a hut in a retired part of the valley of Waipio, and it is said that a large pueo, or owl, which, with the white alae, was sacred and sometimes worshipped, came nightly and perched upon the roof of her lonely habitation.
Of course a kaula of her sanctity wanted for nothing. The people were only too happy to leave at her door anything of which she might stand in need, and the best of everything in the valley came unbidden to her board. Of her abundance she gave to the needy, and, while she seldom spoke to any one, her looks and acts were kind to all. The priesthood recognized her power, and the king and chiefs consulted her in matters of moment when the kilos of the temple were in doubt.
She had reared Kualu with the greatest care, and saw him grow to a manhood of which she was proud. She loved him as if he had been her own child, and he repaid her affection by heeding her advice in all things, and by kindness comforting her declining years. She had schooled him in a lore which but few possessed, and the most skilful had instructed him in the martial and courtly accomplishments consistent with his chiefly rank. At the age of twenty he became attached to the household of the king, and in time was advanced, as already stated, to the high grade of captain of the palace guard. Although his abilities had commended him to advancement, his early favor with the king was doubtless due to some extent to the influence of his foster-mother.
Kualu’s intimate connection with the royal household brought him into frequent companionship with Kuaiwa and his sister, and as the latter grew to womanhood a romantic attachment sprang up between her and the handsome captain of the guard. It was romantic only because it was to every appearance hopeless, for there was a wide gulf between Kualu and the daughter of the proudest moi in all the group, and for whom there seemed to be no fitting mate.
The home of Kualu was within the palace enclosure; yet he frequently visited Waahia in her lonely retreat, to cheer her with words of affection and see that she wanted for nothing. It was during one of these visits, not long before the beginning of the leading events of this legend, that the kaula abruptly said to him:
“Kualu, I can see that you are thinking much of Kapapa.”
“We sometimes meet,” replied Kualu, evasively.
“It is not well for you to try to gather berries from the clouds,” returned the kaula, kindly. “A niapio of the highest rank alone can reach that fruit.”
“The flying spear brings down what the hand cannot reach,” was Kualu’s significant answer.
Waahia smiled at the dauntless spirit of her ward, and after a long pause, during which she sat thoughtfully, with her eyes fixed upon the ground, said:
“Your hopes are bold, but the gods are great. Come to me to-morrow.”
The next day Kualu was made joyful by the words of Waahia. She told him that she had been given a view of something of his future, and that the auguries promised so much that she could not discourage even the most audacious of his aspirations; but that coming events affecting his life were so mingled with wars, and strange faces of a race she had never seen except in dreams, that she could then advise no definite course of action.
With these vague words of encouragement Kualu returned to the palace, and authoritatively learned, what had for some time been rumored, that preparations were to be speedily made for an invasion of Maui, and possibly of the other islands of the group. Having brought all the districts of Hawaii under his control, Kalaunui entertained the ambitious design of uniting the several islands of the archipelago under one government. In this grand scheme of conquest and consolidation he was sustained by the leading chiefs of Hawaii, hungering for foreign possessions, and large quotas of canoes and warriors were promised.
A general plan of action having been adopted, a fleet of two thousand canoes of all sizes and an army of twelve thousand warriors were speedily collected. Sacrifices were made at the great temple of Pakaalani; the favor of the gods was invoked, and the auguries were satisfactory. The king was to lead the expedition in person, and the chivalry of the kingdom rallied to his support. His double canoe, nearly forty paces in length, was gorgeous in royal colors and trappings, and more than a hundred others bore at their mast-heads the ensigns of distinguished chiefs. No such warlike display had been seen by the generation witnessing it, and the confidence and enthusiasm of the king and his commanding officers were fully shared by the people.
Leaving the government in the hands of his young son Kuaiwa, with Kaheka, the queen-mother, as principal adviser, Kalaunui ordered the warriors to their canoes, and with his aids and personal attendants repaired to the beach to superintend the departure of the expedition in person. In charge of his high-priest, his newly-decorated war-god had been taken aboard, and the king was about to follow, when Waahia, whose foster-son was one of the leaders in the enterprise, approached the royal kaulua. She was clad in a pau and short mantle, and her long, white hair fell below her shoulders. Her form was bent, and she carried a staff for support.
At the sight of the venerable figure, familiar to every one in Waipio, the king turned and said:
“I am glad you are here. Encouragement comes from the temple. What says Waahia?”
“Good in the beginning! bad in the end!” was the blunt response of the prophetess.
“I am instructed by your cheering assurances,” adroitly returned the king, observing that her words had been overheard. “The true meaning is that it would be bad to abruptly end a good beginning.” Saying which, with something of a scowl he hastily stepped into his kaulua and gave the signal for departure.
Without replying, Waahia, fully believing that disaster would overtake the expedition in the end, and anxious to be near Kualu when it came, entered one of the many canoes set apart for the women and other camp-followers of the invading army, and with the fleet set sail for Maui.