The chief stationed his eldest sister, Maile-haiwale, at the door of Laieikawai. She sent forth the delicate fragrance of the plant of her name, which awoke Laieikawai.
“Waka! Waka!” exclaimed the princess.
“Here!” answered Waka. “What wakes you in the night?”
“A fragrance, a strange, cool fragrance, which goes to my heart,” returned the girl.
“It is not a strange fragrance,” said Waka. “It is certainly Maile-haiwale, the sweet-scented sister of Aiwohikupua, who has come to ask you to be his wife.”
“Pshaw! I will not marry him,” was the petulant response of Laieikawai.
Aiwohikupua heard her refusal, and was so thoroughly disheartened that he proposed to abandon his sisters and return to Keaau, but his trusty kahu intervened and advised another trial. So the next in age, Maile-kaluhea, took a position by the door. Her fragrance was different and more penetrating; but nearly the same exchange of words as before occurred within the house.
The chief again proposed to leave, but the kahu insisted on trying the powers of Maile-laulii; but no better success followed.
“Try again,” said the counselor, “and if they all fail I myself will undertake to persuade her.”
So Maile-pakaha was sent to the door, but with no better result, and, speaking loudly enough to be heard without, Laieikawai said: “Whoever may come, I will not consent to marry Aiwohikupua.”