“Tell me of the dream before I sleep, good Kaoleioku,” urged Umi, pleasantly, “and perhaps some god may whisper an answer to it in my slumbers.”
“Well thought,” replied the priest; and he related his dream to Umi as he conducted him to a room in the large hale and pointed to a pile of soft kapa on a low platform.
The priest bowed and retired, and Umi, who had rested but little for three days, threw himself upon the kapa-moe and slept soundly until the sun was high in the heavens.
The young chief awoke greatly refreshed, and, after his morning bath, sought the presence of the priest, who since daylight had been busily engaged in despatching messengers to his friends in various parts of the district, and even to Puna and Hamakua, and arranging for supplies of arms, provisions and other warlike stores. Against the walls of the enclosure a number of long sheds had been hastily constructed, under which, screened from observation from without, men were repointing spears and ihes, and repairing slings, daggers and other weapons. In fact, the enclosure began to assume the appearance of a military camp rather than the peaceful habitation of a priest; and as Umi looked around him he appreciated for the first time that a step had been taken which could not be retraced, and that the lives of himself and many of his friends could be saved alone by destroying Hakau, in whose heart lived no feeling of mercy. But, as the conflict had been forced upon him, he accepted it without fear or regret, and his courage would not permit him to doubt the result.
Umi greeted and thanked the priest for the warlike preparations visible on all sides, and over their morning meal together were discussed the resources and details of the coming struggle. It was not believed that a sufficient force could be rallied in the district to make head against the battalions of the king in open fight, for news of the ripening rebellion was spreading in the neighborhood and would soon reach Waipio.
“What we lack in spears must be made up in cunning,” said the priest, confidently. “The gods are with us, and the means of victory will be pointed out.”
“Perhaps,” replied Umi, thoughtfully; “but sometimes the direction is vague and we are apt to mistake it. Olopana failed to interpret correctly the will of Kane, as sent to him through his high-priest, and was driven by the floods from Waipio, and compelled to return to Kahiki, the land of his fathers.”
“True,” returned the priest, not a little astonished at Umi’s knowledge of the ancient chiefs of Hawaii, “and we must not fall into the same error. The gods, perhaps, have already spoken. ‘Let the spears of Hakau be sent beyond the call of the Kiha-pu,’ are the words that have come to me, but I can find no interpretation of them. We must make sacrifice at once, and consult the kaulas.”
“That would be well,” said Umi; “yet it may be that a hint of their meaning, if nothing more, has been sent to me. I slept with the words this morning, you will remember, and now I recall that a whisper advised that we should take to our counsel Nunu and Kakohe, of Waipio.”
“You have made the way clear!” exclaimed the priest, earnestly. “I know the men well. They are priests of influence and large learning. They were the advisers of Liloa, and are now the enemies of Hakau.”