Keaulumoku’s Prophecy
Keaulumoku died in 1784. He was a poet, dreamer, prophet, and preserver of the legends of his people. For more than three-score years he had roamed about Hawaii, esteemed for his virtues and his wisdom by those who knew him, tolerated as harmless by those who did not. He wandered about the vast and desolate lava fields and talked with spirits there. He learned rhythm and music from the swing of the waves. The “little people” in the wood were his servants when he needed help. In his closing years he occupied a cabin alone near Kauhola. Though not churlish, he cared little for human society,—it seemed so small to him after daily contemplation of the ocean and mountain majesties and the nightly vision of the stars; but he was alive to its interests, and when the future opened to him he was always willing to read it for comfort or warning.
It was reported in the villages at last that he would look on the faces of his people but once more, and they were asked to assemble at his hut on the next evening, when he would chant his last prophecy. Before sunset they gathered about his cabin a thousand or more, waiting quietly or talking in whispers, and presently the mat which hung in the entrance was drawn aside, disclosing the shrunken form and frosted hair of the venerable prophet. He began his chant in the quavering voice of age, but as he sang he gained strength, and his tones were plainly heard by all in the assemblage. He foretold the union of the islands under Kamehameha, the death of monarchy, the ruin of the temples, the oncoming of the white race, the disappearance of the Hawaiian people from the earth. Then blessing the company with uplifted hands, Keaulumoku sank back lifeless. He was buried with solemn rites in a temple, and, under the inspiration of his prophecy, Kamehameha began his work of conquest. In eleven years the islands were one nation. The rest of the prophecy is coming true.
The Tragedy of Spouting Cave
Many caves pierce the igneous rock of the Hawaiian group, some with entrances below the ocean level, and discovered only by accident. Famous among them is the spouting cave of Lanai. Old myths make this a haunt of the lizard god, but the shark god, thinking this venture below the water an intrusion on his territory, threatened to block the entrance with rocks, so the lizard god swam over to Molokai and made his home in the cave near Kaulapana, where the people built temples to him. An attempt of a daring explorer to light the cave of Lanai with fire hid in a closed calabash was also resented, the vessel being dashed out of the hand of the adventurer by some formless creature of the dark, who also plucked stones from the cave roof and hurled at him until he retreated.
To this island, at the end of the eighteenth century, came King Kamehameha to rest after his war and enjoy the fish dinners for which the island was famous. One of his captains was Kaili, a courageous and susceptible Hawaiian, who celebrated the outing by falling head-over-heels in love. Kaala, “the perfumed flower of Lanai,” returned his vows, and would have taken him for a husband, without ceremony or delay, save for the stern parent, who is a frequent figure in such romances. This parent, Oponui, had a reason for his hate of Kaili, the two having encountered in the last great battle. Kaili had probably forgotten his opponent, but Oponui bitterly remembered him, for his best friend had been struck down by the spear of the young captain. Another cause for opposing this marriage was that Kaala had been bespoken by a great, hairy, tattooed savage known as “the bone-breaker.” It occurred to Oponui that a good way to be rid of the cavalier would be to let him settle his claim with the famous wrestler. He chuckled as he thought of the outcome, for the bone-breaker had never been beaten. The challenge having been made and accepted, the king and his staff agreed to watch the contest. It was brief, brutal, and decisive. Though the big wrestler had the more strength, Kaili had the more skill and quickness. He dodged every rush of his burly opponent, tripped him, broke both his arms by jumping on them when he was down, and when the disabled but vengeful fighter, with dangling hands, made a bull-like charge with lowered head, the captain sprang aside, caught him by the hair, strained him suddenly backward across his knee, and flung him to the earth, dying with a broken spine. Kaili had won his bride.
The girl’s father was not at the end of his resources, however. He appeared in a day or two panting, as with a long run, and begged Kaala to fly at once to her mother in the valley, as she was mortally ill and wished to see her daughter before she died. The girl kissed her lover, promising to return soon, and was hurried away by Oponui toward the Spouting Cave. Arrived there, she looked up and down the shore, but saw none other than her father, who was smiling into her face with a look of craft and cruelty that turned her sick at heart. In a broken voice she asked his purpose. Was her mother dead? Had he killed her? Oponui seized her arms with the gripe of a giant. “The man you love is my foe,” he shouted. “I shall kill him, if I can. If not, he shall never see you again. When he has left Lanai, either for Hawaii or for the land of souls, I will bring you back to the sun. Come!”
Now, the water pushing through the entrance to this cavern becomes a whirlpool; then, as it belches forth in a refluent wave, it is hurled into a white column. Watching until the water began to whirl and suck, Oponui sprang from the rocks, dragging his daughter with him. She struggled for a moment, believing that his intention was to drown her. There was a rush and a roar; then, buffeted, breathless, she arose on the tide, and in a few seconds felt a beach beneath her feet. Oponui dragged her out of reach of the wave, and as soon as her eyes grew accustomed to the dimness she found herself to be in a large, chill cavern. Crabs were clattering over the stones, and rays and eels could be seen writhing shadowy, in pools. The brawling of the ocean came smothered, faint, but portentous, and in the green light that mounted through the submerged door the grotto seemed a place of dreams,—a dank nightmare.
“Here you stay until I come,” commanded Oponui. “Make no attempt to escape, for so surely as you do, you will be cut to pieces on the rocks, and the sharks await outside.” Then, diving into the receding water, he disappeared, and she was left alone.