“Hold! Let this be a sacrifice, and not a murder! In the name of the gods I slay him!”
With these words the high-priest drove his ihe through the heart of Hakau, and he fell dying at the feet of Umi.
Hakau strove to speak, but his words were bitter and choked him.
“Bear him with respect to a couch,” said Umi. “He is the son of a king, and so let him die.”
His orders were obeyed, and Hakau, the tyrant king of Hawaii, breathed his last as Umi turned and left the mua.
The palace was now in the possession of Umi, with its gods, its sacred emblems, its royal regalia and all the paraphernalia of supreme authority; but he appreciated that much remained to be done, and that, too, without delay. The feather-hunters would soon return from the hills and sea-shore; but they could be dealt with in detail as they arrived in small parties, and were, therefore, not greatly to be feared. The distant chiefs summoned by the lunapais of the dead king were the principal cause of anxiety. Some time during the next day they would begin to arrive with their quotas of warriors, and Umi was not quite confident that they would accept the situation peacefully.
To be prepared for any emergency, he ordered his entire force to quarters within the palace grounds, despatched parties to procure supplies of food, received the allegiance of the attendants and guards found in and around the royal mansion, and sent out heralds to proclaim the death of Hakau by the will of the gods, and the assumption of sovereign authority by Umi, the son of Liloa.
The Kiha-pu was discovered near the door, where it had been dropped by Hakau. No one dared to touch it. It was recognized by a chief who had seen it before, and who guarded it until Umi appeared. The chief pointed to the sacred shell, and with an exclamation of joy Umi raised it to his lips and sounded a vigorous blast, which swept over the valleys and echoed through the hills with its old-time voice of thunder.
All within the walls were startled. Kaoleioku approached, and Umi raised the shell and repeated the sonorous blast. “It is not the breath of Umi,” said the priest, impressively; “it is the voice of the gods proclaiming their approval of the work of this day!”
The body of Hakau was removed to a small structure within the enclosure, where it was given in charge of his wife and mother, Kukukalani and Pinea, and their attendants, to be prepared for burial. And Kapukini, the sister of Hakau and half-sister of Umi, mourned with them; but her grief was not great, for Hakau had been unkind even to her.