Kiana: a Tradition of Hawaii

by James Jackson Jarves

His warriors saw it at the same time, and comprehending from their long experience in this region, the necessity of despatch, if they would not be cut off from the territories of Pohaku beyond, they set forward on their march at the top of their speed.

In compliance with his resolution of the previous night, to regain if possible the confidence of his captive, Tolta approached Olmedo and said, “We have far to go to-day. Forget my words of yesterday; I was angered to see the white priest embrace Beatriz. Had you remained where you were, you would have both been slain. More I cannot now say; but with Tolta you are safe, he will restore you to your homes when the storm is over. Confide in him. You are now free to talk with your daughter; but be cautious before your guards, for though they serve me well now, it is at the bidding of a greater chief than Kiana.”

This artful speech confused Olmedo. He distrusted Tolta; but he knew enough of the artifice of Indian character, not to give himself blindly to the Mexican, and at the same time not to reject him outright; for whatever might be his motives, on him alone to all appearance depended the fate of Beatriz. Besides, he saw that he had him at disadvantage, from having witnessed his interview with her. This gave the wily Aztec an opportunity of injuring both in their most sensitive points, for he had learned enough of the sacred responsibility of a Catholic confessor to his female flock, to see at once his power over the priest. Whatever else Juan might forgive, he would be relentless towards the dishonorer of his sister.

Olmedo, therefore, coolly thanked Tolta, saying, “I trust, my son, no injury will befall us or our friends. Why not seek Juan? He is needed more than either of us to protect his sister, if there be the danger you imply?”

“Ask no questions now, priest. Later you will know all; Juan will be with you soon. I have provided also for him. He would have been here now, had he not been absent yesterday from his house. Go and aid Beatriz. Inspire her with courage. You will have need of all your forces this day. See how that lava gains upon the plain below us,” and Tolta pointed to its red current which was rapidly flowing towards their intended track.

Olmedo parleyed no longer with the Mexican, but hastened to Beatriz, and related their brief conversation. “I much fear he is false to us all,” added he, “but we have no alternative now but to follow his directions. We shall have enough to do to-day, to contend with the obstacles in nature that threaten us, for it is plain that he fears more the dangers behind him, than those in front. He will not retrace his steps,—we must trust in God and go on.”

The voice of Olmedo was soothing to Beatriz, and with his presence she forgot her fears. Her anxiety for Juan was almost lost in her present joy in finding Olmedo free to be by her side, and she looked forward hopefully to meeting her brother as Tolta had promised. “I am strong, Olmedo, thanks to my rough journeys with the army. Never fear for me. Be Tolta true or false, our fates are bound up together, and the Holy Virgin will protect us;” and she smiled so trustingly upon him, that he felt she was indeed protected by the Mother of God.

They had little opportunity to talk, because the way was so rough as to require constant care and great exertion to prevent the warriors who bore the “manele” from falling. As their own lives were to be the forfeit should harm befall their prisoners before they were delivered to Pohaku, they were most cautious to preserve them from injury from the stones which frequently came rolling down the mountain, set in motion by the haste with which they clambered over them. Their activity, however, prevented any accident, and in a few hours they arrived at the less rugged plain, where they halted near a spring of water, from which they replenished their stock, as it was the last they could hope to fall in with during the day.

But little rest was allowed. Tolta was afraid of pursuit, while his men were even more fearful of the volcanic eruption. The immediate outbreak was now hid from them by an intervening ridge, but the smoke and explosions continued to increase very perceptibly. Their course was for the present more rapid, as it was on comparatively level ground. The soil being of loose ashes, was, however, fatiguing to the step, except where the smooth lava rock cropped out. Over that they could go at a quick pace, and thus make up for their previous slower progress. Such scanty vegetation as this district afforded was soon passed, and they came upon the region of dead streams of lava, emphatically known as clinkers. Some of them were several miles in width, and tried the endurance of the party greatly. As it was impossible to carry Beatriz farther on the “manele,” it was abandoned. They had now to climb over huge fragments of lava, of obsidian hardness, and as sharp and brittle as glass, continually breaking into minute pieces that frequently cut through their sandals, and wounded their feet, so that their course might have been tracked for some distance by blood. Tolta had provided against this contingency by spare sandals, otherwise his expedition would have been crippled midway—equally unable to advance or retreat. Olmedo lifted Beatriz over the roughest passages, assisted by the stoutest warriors, who, on several occasions, caught him and his burden just in time to save them from severe bruises. None escaped some injuries, for it was often necessary to crawl for short distances over steep masses so slippery and friable, as to cause many a slide and fracture, ending in cut limbs. Imagine all the slag from all the forges and glass factories, that have ever existed, thrown confusedly on the ground, in pieces from the size of hillocks to that of peas, shivered into every variety of pointed and cragged fragments, and an idea of the highway over which they were now making their way may be formed.

To add to their delays it began to rain, and by the time they had got to the smoother ground beyond, a fog set in, so dense as to obscure the landmarks by which they had hitherto been guided. The oldest warriors were now at fault. After wandering for some time at random, the fruitlessness of such exertions compelled them to stop. So many hours had been consumed in disentangling themselves from the clinkers, that it was nigh dark. There was no remedy but to seek the best camping spot the locality offered. Tolta ordered several couples of the men to explore about them in different directions, keeping within hail of the main party. In a half hour they returned, and reported having found a cave on the edge of a dwarf Ohia wood. To this they went, and with a fire made themselves tolerably comfortable. With the refinement, in which the Aztec nobility were bred, Tolta screened a portion of the cave for the sole use of Beatriz, and with tapa mantles made for her not an unwelcome retreat from the storm without and the rude men within. Olmedo was permitted to remain near by, but Tolta kept beside him. The rain poured in torrents and made its way through the roof, wetting the floor, while the smoke from the fire with difficulty escaped into the open air. Yet, amid all this discomfort, Olmedo offered up his evening prayer, Beatriz joining in the usual hymn, with a voice that seemed to the stilled warriors to come from another world, so melodious was it even to their dull ears, in contrast with the barbarous chants of their own women.