The Legends and Myths of Hawaii: The fables and folk-lore of a strange people

by King of Hawaii David Kalakaua

In the time of Liloa, and later, this plateau was thickly populated, and, requiring no irrigation, was cultivated from the sea upward to the line of frost. A few kalo patches are still seen, and bananas grow, as of old, in secluded spots and along the banks of the ravines; but the broad acres are green with cane, and the whistle of the sugar-mill is heard above the roar of the surf that beats against the rock-bound front of Hamakua.

In the first of these valleys south of Waipunalei was the estate of the high-priest Kaoleioku, which was thickly dotted with the huts of his tenants, and embraced some of the finest banana, cocoa and breadfruit groves in the district. For the accommodation of himself and family were two large mansions, constructed of heavy timbers and surrounded by a substantial stone wall. The priest was learned and hospitable, and his influence was second in the district only to that of the alii-okane.

Anticipating the arrival of Umi and his friends during the night, the priest had placed a watchman at the gate on retiring, with instructions to wake him should any one unknown to the sentinel apply for admission before morning. But Kaoleioku could not sleep, for his mind was filled with the shadows of coming events. He had discovered a son of Liloa, the rightful guardian of the temples and his gods, secreted among the makaainani to escape the persecutions of his tyrannical and heartless brother; and as a reconciliation between them did not seem to be possible, he had resolved to urge Umi into open revolt at once, and to assist him to the full extent of his power in organizing a force to contest with Hakau the right to the sovereignty of Hawaii. This he was moved to do, not more because Hakau was a tyrant, than that he had sought to degrade the priesthood, of which Umi was the nominal head, and in the dedication of a temple in Waimea had sacrilegiously usurped the powers and privileges of the high-priest. Should the revolt prove unsuccessful, his life, he well knew, would be one of the forfeits of the failure; but the priest was a courageous man, and did not hesitate to accept the hazard of the perilous undertaking. Although reared in the priesthood, he could wield a spear with the best, and when in arms his fifty years sat lightly upon him.

With his mind filled with the details of the dangerous labors before him, the priest tossed restlessly upon his couch of kapa until past midnight, when he rose and strolled out among the palms. Wearied with walking, he stretched himself upon the grass, and, fanned by the trade-winds and soothed by the stars which seemed to smile upon him through the branches of the trees, he followed his troubled thoughts into the land of dreams; and there a voice said to him thrice: “Let the spears of Hakau be sent beyond the call of the Kiha-pu, and the victory of Umi will be bloodless!”

A voice beside the sleeper awoke him, and he was informed by the watchman that a considerable number of strangers were at the gate and desired admission. The priest rose to his feet, and, with the mysterious words of the dream still ringing in his ears, proceeded to the gate, where the tall form of Umi loomed up in the darkness. Giving him his hand with a warm word of welcome, the priest was about to conduct him within when he was startled at the sudden appearance at the gate of a party of armed and resolute-looking men—how many he was unable to distinguish.

The priest was about to speak when Umi laid his hand upon his shoulder and said in a low voice: “All trusty friends.”

“Then all are welcome,” replied the priest, and, giving an order to the watchman, he stepped aside with Umi, when two hundred warriors, appareled for battle, silently filed in double rank through the opening, following Omaukamau and Piimaiwaa to quarters evidently prepared for a much greater number.

“Truly, a good beginning!” exclaimed the priest, with enthusiasm, as the last of the little army passed the gate.

“A few that my good friends have been sounding since yesterday,” said Umi, modestly. “They do not know me yet as Umi, but are inspired with a hatred for Hakau. The number could have been greatly increased, but I feared your ability to accommodate more without warning.”

“It was thoughtful; but ten times their number can be secreted within these walls. But come,” continued the priest, taking the arm of Umi and proceeding toward the larger mansion; “there is red in the east, and you must have rest and sleep. When you awake I will give you a dream to interpret. It relates to the business before us.”