Kiana: a Tradition of Hawaii

by James Jackson Jarves

It was impossible for them to remain near the mouth of the cave, so they lighted some torches of the kukui nut, and proceeded to explore it. “We may find it deep enough to screen us from the lava and fatal air,” said Olmedo. “Here are the remains too of our last night’s provisions, which those poor heathen left here this morning. Alas! for their souls! Come, Beatriz, you shall yet see Juan. Eat a morsel to sustain your strength,” and he gave the example, more to persuade her than to appease his own hunger.

Tolta scowled at the confiding smile Beatriz gave to the priest as she complied with his advice, but he ate also, and the three found in the short respite from the sights and sounds of the outer air, helped as it was by much needed food, a renewal of mental and physical energies which surprised them. It seemed as if they were aroused from some oppressive dream.

The extent of the cave tempted them on. It descended at first somewhat abruptly. At the distance of a hundred rods from the entrance the passage grew narrow, and was partially choked with stones, which had fallen from overhead. By some labor the two men cleared the way for Beatriz to follow, and they found themselves in a large chamber, where the air was quite fresh in contrast with what they had been breathing for hours past. This revived them still more. The roof was covered with stalactites of great size, and had the appearance of having been long undisturbed. Occasionally a slight jar was perceptible in the ground, and a low warning sound of disturbed elements was heard. They were encouraged to go on by finding both decreased as they advanced. Once, only, there was a shock so severe that they paused in stupor, fancying that the rock above them was being crushed in. But, with the exception of a few loose stones that rattled down, no harm was done. Evidently the eruption was either abating, or they were get-away from it. Still to wander at random in an intricate cave, which might at any moment bury them in its ruins, or become a living sepulchre by tempting them away from one danger to meet the still more horrible fate of starvation in utter darkness, for their food and lights could not last much longer, were not thoughts at all calculated to raise their courage.

Something, however, tempted them to keep on. So long as they were in action, hope buoyed them up. Owing to the frequent turnings of the cave, it was impossible to have a clue as to their real direction. It was a series of halls or rooms, some of which were lofty and spacious, joined by long, tortuous and low passages, at times so barricaded by rocky debris as to almost arrest further progress. Tolta, however, was indefatigable in clearing a way through them, as he was the first to explore, while Olmedo and Beatriz waited his report.

Upon emerging into a larger hall than the others, they thought they heard the noise of running water. It grew louder as they approached the farther end, where the torches showed to them a stream, which directly crossed their path. It appeared to issue from the solid rock, but their light was so faint it was impossible to discern anything clearly, except the quick flow of the black waters before them, while not far below they heard a roar and dash as of a cascade or a rapid descent among rocks and chasms.

Here, indeed, was an obstacle undreamed of. Fire cut off their retreat on one side, and water their progress on the other. Beatriz, already well nigh exhausted, said to Olmedo, “We can go no farther. Tell Tolta to save himself if it be possible. He can swim and may find his way out, but we must remain here and await our fate. Let us by prayer prepare to resign ourselves to what must now soon come. With you I shall have no fear of death in any shape.”

Beatriz no more thought of the possibility of Olmedo’s leaving her, even if he could escape, than she would have consented to have left him to perish by himself. It never occurred to her, therefore, to urge him to an effort without her.

“Beatriz, my long loved one, my more than daughter in faith, if die we now must, we will be one in death as we have ever been in our lives. But take courage, we are not to perish so. God has not brought us thus far, to abandon us. I hail this water as a happy omen. What say you, Tolta?”

“When water comes it must go. Rivers do not long flow underground. They love light as do the trees and flowers. I will see how the other side looks,” replied the Mexican.

Holding his torch above his head, he waded in. The water was warm and sulphurous and refreshed him; but it soon became so rapid and deep as to require all his skill as a swimmer to prevent being drawn too near the gulf, whose warning roar was heard not far below. Beatriz and Olmedo watched his progress anxiously, for fear he might be drifted into the rapids, but his light soon showed by its steadiness that he had reached ground on the farther side. A few minutes of suspense ensued, when suddenly he shouted, “We are saved! we shall soon see daylight!” and plunging into the water again, pushing something before him, he was quickly back. “See,” said he, “here is a log hollowed out into a rough canoe. This cave must have an outlet near by, for I see that the natives come here to bath and sport by torch-light. Hurry, and you shall see for yourselves the traces of their presence.”