“It was a dangerous undertaking,” suggested the king, feigning a frown which wrinkled into a smile upon his lips; “had you no fear?”

“I am still young and have not yet learned to fear,” returned Umi, with an air of self-reproach.

“Such words could come alone from a heart ennobled by the blood of Pilikaeae! You are indeed the son of Liloa!” exclaimed the king, with emotion, stretching forth his hand and seating Umi beside him. “Not these tokens alone but your face and bearing show it.” And he put his arms around the neck of his son and kissed him, and ordered a repast, which they ate together, while Umi related to his royal father the simple events of his humble life.

As the strange entrance of Umi into the royal mansion had attracted much attention, many of the privileged retainers and officers of the court soon gathered in and around the palace; and the rank and possible purposes of the visitor were undergoing an earnest discussion—especially after it was learned that he was breakfasting with the king—when Hakau, the only recognized son of Liloa and heir-presumptive to the throne, suddenly appeared and sought the presence of his royal father.

There was a dark scowl on the face of Hakau on entering the room and observing a stranger in close conversation with the king and eating from the same vessels, nor did it disappear when Liloa presented Umi to him as his own son and Hakau’s half-brother. Umi rose and frankly offered his brother the hand of friendship and affection; but the grasp and recognition of Hakau were cold, and when he was invited to sit down and partake of meat with his newly-found brother he excused himself with the falsehood that he had just risen from his morning meal. After a few words with the king, during which he closely scrutinized Umi’s handsome face and manly form, Hakau withdrew, leaving no token in word or look of any feeling of joy at the meeting.

Although the kings of the Hawaiian group at that time usually had from two to six wives—either marriages of the heart or alliances with the families of neighboring kings to strengthen their dynasties—tradition has given to Liloa but one recognized wife. She was Pinea, a Maui chiefess of family distinction, who gave to Liloa a son and one daughter—Hakau and Kapukini. Hakau had reached his thirtieth year and had married the daughter of the chief and high-priest Pae. They had one child, a daughter, who had been given the name of her grandmother, Pinea. Kapukini had not quite reached womanhood, and was the idol of the court.

Hakau was a large, well-visaged man, but was haughty, selfish and cruel. Having been, until the sudden appearance of Umi at the court, the only recognized son of Liloa, his caprices had been humored until his heartlessness and tyranny had become almost a by-word in Hamakua. But the truth seems to be that he was naturally vicious and barbarous, and tradition speaks of no greater tyrant among all the rulers of Hawaii. Heedless of the rights of property, without return he took from others whatever he coveted, and in an insanity of pride and criminal envy caused to be secretly slain or disfigured such as were reputed to surpass him in personal beauty. Without giving note or credence to the many tales of barbarism with which tradition has connected his name, it is doubtless true that his cruelty and contempt for the rights of his subjects rendered him an unfit successor of the gentle and sagacious Liloa, under whose reign the humblest were protected, and peace and prosperity prevailed throughout the six districts of the island.

No further explanation of Hakau’s freezing reception of Umi is required. He was envious of his handsome face and noble bearing, and hated him because of the love with which his father manifestly regarded him. But Hakau’s feelings in the matter were not consulted, and the day following Umi was conducted to the temple of Paakalani in great pomp, where, to the solemn music of chant and sacred drum, the officiating priest with the newly-found son of the king went through the form of oki-ka-piko—a ceremony attending the birth of the children of royalty—and Umi was formally and publicly recognized as his son by the king of Hawaii.

Hakau was compelled, with great bitterness of heart, to witness this ceremony, but was too discreet to openly manifest his displeasure. Returning to the palace, Umi was formally presented to the royal household, and heralds proclaimed his rank and investiture of the tabus to which he was entitled.

Although the mother of Hakau, Pinea received him kindly, and Kapukini was more than delighted with her new and handsome brother. She clung to his hand, and artlessly declared that Hakau was cross with her and that she had prayed to the gods to send her another brother, just such a one as Umi, and they had done so.