“I know all, and you may fear nothing,” said Maukaleoleo. “Before the moon grows large again I shall be with you, spear in hand, on your way to Waipio. Meantime you may lose sight of me, but I shall be near you when my arm is needed. You have powerful friends. Be guided by them, and all will be well.”
Umi held up his hand, and Maukaleoleo folded it in his mighty palm as he dropped upon his knees and exclaimed:
“Umi, son of Liloa! here in the hills, among the listening leaves, let Maukaleoleo be the first to hail you moi of Hawaii!”
Before Umi could rebuke the untimely utterance Maukaleoleo rose to his feet and with a low bow disappeared among the trees.
With whatever feeling of fear the makaainana, or laboring classes, of Waipunalei may have regarded Maukaleoleo, as he occasionally appeared among them like a moving tower, he was not without friends. He was well known to the priests and kaulas of the district, who believed that his huge proportions were due to the special act of some god, and was always a welcome visitor at the home of Kaoleioku, a high-priest of great influence both in Hilo and Hamakua. It is therefore probable that this meeting with Umi was not entirely accidental, for the day following Kaoleioku despatched a messenger to Umi, who was found not without some difficulty, inviting him to a conference in a secluded spot near the head of a neighboring valley.
The object of the meeting was not stated, and Umi’s first thought was that the emissaries of his brother were seeking to lure him to his death; but no danger ever appalled him, and, seizing his javelin and thrusting a pahoa into his girdle, he followed the messenger.
A brisk walk of an hour brought them to a small grass hut partially hidden among the trees and undergrowth of an almost dry ravine abruptly jutting into the valley. At that point the valley was too narrow to admit of cultivation, although a broken stone wall across the mouth of the ravine showed that at one time three or four uneven acres behind it had been tilled. The grass grew rank within the enclosure, and, in addition to several varieties of forest trees that had taken root since the ground had last been disturbed, a half-dozen or more cocoa-trees lifted their heads above the surrounding foliage, and the broad leaves of as many banana-stalks swayed lazily in the wind.
It was a lonesome-looking spot, and no sign of life in or around the hut was visible as the messenger stopped at a gap in the crumbling wall and awaited the approach of Umi. The chirp of the crickets in the grass seemed to be a note of warning, and the whistle of a solitary bird hidden among the leaves sounded like a scream to Umi in that deserted and otherwise silent nook; but he grasped his ihe firmly and beckoned the messenger to proceed. As he stepped over the broken wall he caught a glimpse of the ponderous form of Maukaleoleo through the branches of a sandal-tree on the side of the hill overlooking the hut. Under the eye of that mighty and friendly sentinel Umi dismissed all thought of treachery or danger.
Reaching the door of the hut, he was met by the high-priest Kaoleioku, who promptly extended his hand and invited him to enter, while the messenger withdrew from the enclosure and took a position where he commanded a view of the valley above and below the mouth of the ravine.
There was no furniture in the hut beyond two or three rickety shelves, and on one side a raised platform of earth, which, with a kapa covering, might have been used either as a bed or seat. On entering the priest requested Umi to be seated, and then bowed low and said: