The sun dropped behind the hills; twilight turned to bronze the gold of the valleys, and the tabu was at an end. It was proclaimed that the auguries were highly favorable, and the silence of the tabu was broken by wild strains of music and shouts of rejoicing.
V.
As darkness settled upon the camp of the insurgents Umi felt that the hour for action was closely at hand. He therefore gave orders that preparations for instant departure be maintained throughout the night. The moon was waning, with a promise of rising some time before morning, and the night set in dark and cloudy, with occasional showers.
About two hours before midnight Maukaleoleo suddenly and silently strode past the sentinels. Seeking Umi, he found him in council with his friends Omaukamau, Piimaiwaa and the high-priest. They were arranging the order of march by the four narrow paths at that time leading to Waipio.
The giant stooped low and looked in upon the council through the doorway. He could scarcely distinguish the faces within by the light of the flambeau kept burning near the entrance. He did not attempt to enter, but stood silent and motionless, with his hands upon his knees, peering into the room as if to attract attention. Umi smiled as he recognized the huge object, and stepped to the door. The giant rose until his head was above the ridge-pole, and then bowed like the bending of a tree before the wind.
“Well, my good friend,” said Umi, “after thanking you for your last night’s work, let me ask what word you bring.”
“None,” replied the giant. “There is no light yet, but I am impressed that it will be seen before morning.”
“And so am I, good Maukaleoleo,” returned the chief, “and your signal will find us prepared.”
“That is what I came to learn,” answered the giant, bowing and turning to depart.