III.
It was near the end of the terrible scourge that the district of Ewa, on the island of Oahu, became its victim. It followed the appearance there of a Hana chief and a few of his retainers, who had been driven from Molokai. At that time there lived at Waimalu, in the district of Ewa, the celebrated priest and prophet Naula-a-Maihea. No one in the Hawaiian priesthood of the past was ever more feared or respected. It was thought by some that he had visited the shadowy realms of Milu, and from Paliuli had brought back the waters of life. He must have been well on in years, for, as already mentioned, he is credited with having been the priest of Laa-mai-kahiki on the romantic journey of that prince from the southern islands.
In evidence of the great sanctity of Naula, tradition relates that his canoe was upset during a journey from Waianae, Oahu, to Kauai. He was swallowed by a whale, in whose stomach he remained without inconvenience until the monster crossed the channel and vomited him up alive on the beach at Waialua, Kauai, the precise place of his destination. At another time, when crossing to Hawaii, and beset with adverse winds, two huge black sharks, sent by Mooalii, the shark-god of Molokai, towed him to Kohala so swiftly that the sea-birds could scarcely keep him company.
He built a heiau at Waimalu, the foundations of which may still be traced, and in the inner temple of the enclosure it is asserted that Lono conversed with him freely; and at his bidding the spirits of the living (kahaoka) as well as the shades of the dead (unihipili) made their appearance; for it was believed by the ancient Hawaiians that the spirits or souls of the living sometimes separated themselves from the body during slumber or while in a condition of trance, and became visible in distant places to priests of especial sanctity.
Consulting with the gods, Naula discovered the cause of the drought, and, becoming alarmed at the threatened destruction of the entire population of the group, undertook to stay the ravages of the spreading scourge. With a vision enlarged and intensified by sacrifice and prayer, he ascended the highest peak of the Waianae Mountains. Far as the eye could reach the skies were cloudless. He first looked toward Kaala, but discerned no sign of rain around its wooded summits. He turned toward Kauai, but not a cloud could be seen above the mountains of that island. Cloudless, also, were the mountains of Molokai. Finally, casting his eyes in the direction of Maui, he saw a small, dark spot like a rain-cloud hanging above the peak of Hanaula. “It may disappear,” he thought; “I will wait.” Midday came. He looked again, and the spot was still there. The sun grew red in the west. Again he looked and found that the cloud had neither disappeared nor moved. “Surely the sons of Luahoomoe are there,” he said to himself. “I will go to them; they will listen to me, and the waters will come again.”
Naula descended from the mountain, and the same night embarked alone in a canoe for Maui. He spread no sail, used no paddle, but all night his waa skimmed the waves with the speed of the wind, and at sunrise the next morning he landed at Makena, above which, a few miles inland, towered the peak of Hanaula, with the dark spot still hanging over it.
There, indeed, were the sons of Luahoomoe. Nurtured by the rains that had fallen alone on the peak of Hanaula, there they had remained unseen for three and a half years, waiting for the wrath of the gods to be appeased and for a summons to descend. A strange light accompanied the canoe of Naula in the darkness. From their elevated retreat they noted it far out upon the ocean, and watched it growing brighter as it approached, until it went out on the beach at Makena. They knew it to be the signal of their deliverance, and hastened down the mountain to meet the messenger of the gods. One account says they met Naula at Kula; but the meeting occurred not far from the Makena landing, where the priest, inspired with a knowledge of their coming, awaited their arrival. As they approached, the venerable kahuna, his white hair and beard falling to his waist and a tabu staff in his hand, advanced to meet them. They bowed respectfully, and, returning the salutation, Naula said:
“I know you to be the sons of Luahoomoe, whose death by the hands of Hua, King of Hana, has been avenged by the gods upon the people of all the islands of Hawaii. The earth is still parched, and thousands are seeking in vain for food and water. Hua is dead; his bones lie unburied in the sun. Scattered or dead are the people of Hana; their lands are yellow, and their springs and streams yield nothing but dust and ashes. Great was the crime of Hua, and great has been the punishment. I am Naula-a-Maihea, the high-priest of Oahu, and have come to ask, with you, that the gods may be merciful and no longer scourge the people.”
At the mention of his name the sons of Luahoomoe bowed low before the aged prophet of whose sanctity report had years before apprised them, and then Kaakakai replied:
“Great priest, willingly will we add our voices to your supplication to the gods, whose vengeance has indeed been terrible. But since our retreat was revealed to you and nothing seems to be hidden from your understanding, let me ask if you know aught of the fate of Oluolu. She was my wife, and I left her in a little valley in the mountains back of Hana. I loved her greatly, and am grieved with the fear that she is dead.”
Without replying the priest seated himself upon the ground, and, unbinding the kihei from his shoulders, threw it over his head, shutting the light from his face. While one hand pressed the mantle closely to his breast, the other held to his forehead what seemed to be a talisman of stone suspended by a short cord from his neck. He remained motionless in that position for some minutes; then throwing off the kihei and rising to his feet, he turned to Kaakakai and said:
“I was not wrong in my thought. The presence here of the sons of Luahoomoe has sanctified the spot to communion with the spirits of the air. Oluolu, alone with a woman much her elder, still lives where you left her and hopefully awaits the coming of Kaakakai—for such I now know to be your name. The spirit of Luahoomoe has nourished and protected her.”
“Great Naula, most favored of the gods!” exclaimed Kaakakai, grasping the hand of the priest. “You have made my heart glad! Now ask of me what you will!”
On the very spot from which the priest had risen they proceeded to erect a rude altar of stones. When it was completed Naula brought from his canoe a combined image of the godhead—the Oie of the early priesthood—and a small enclosed calabash of holy water—ka-wai-kapu-a-Kane. Removing the kapa covering, the image was placed beside the altar, and while the priest recited the solemn kaiokopeo, or prayer of consecration, Kaakakai intoned the invocation and continued at intervals to sprinkle the altar with holy water.
The dedication ceremonies were at length concluded; but what was there to offer as a sacrifice? The hills were bare and parched. Far as the eye could reach the lands were deserted, and no living thing beside themselves was visible. Suddenly there appeared among the leafless shrubbery near them a large black hog sacred to sacrifice. The brothers exchanged looks of wonder, but the priest did not seem to be greatly surprised. The animal was immediately seized, killed and placed upon the altar, and sacrificial prayers were devoutly offered.
In the midst of these services a wind set in from the south. Black clouds began to gather, from which the answering voice of thunder came, and then a gentle rain began to fall upon the sere and hungry earth. Raising his face into the baptism, Naula with emotion exclaimed:
“The sacrifice is accepted! The gods are merciful, and the people are saved!”
And the rains continued, not there alone but all over the islands, until the grass grew green again and the banana put forth its shoots. Everywhere the rejoicing was great. The people returned to their deserted lands, and the valleys of Hana, even, blossomed as before. But Hua and his family had perished from the earth, and a new dynasty came into being to claim the sovereignty of eastern Maui.
The sons of the martyred Luahoomoe returned at once to Hana, and in the arms of Kaakakai the brave and faithful Oluolu recited the story of her sufferings and deliverance. With largely-augmented possessions Kaakakai became the high-priest under the new régime, and for generations his descendants continued to be among the most influential of the families of eastern Maui. Kaanahua became the god of the husbandman.
The political events immediately following the death of Hua are but vaguely referred to by tradition, and the few particulars known doubtless owe their preservation to the care taken by the priesthood—to which class the historians of the past usually belonged—to bring down, with all its terrible details, the fate of Hua, as a warning to succeeding sovereigns who might be disposed to trespass upon the sacred domain of the spiritual rulers who, in a measure, divided the allegiance of their subjects.