“The occupation of this Waikuku—this woman-stealer—is that of war, I have been informed. He boasted that his spear would have tasted the blood of Kamaiole had he not sought the protection of the royal grounds. I came here through no fear of his arm or the spears of his friends, but to explain to the king why I had shed blood within sight of the royal hale. But since he talks so bravely of blood and spears, I challenge him to make good his words with me beyond the palace walls. The matter is solely between us. I am prepared to answer to him in words of combat for what I have done to-day. Or if, as I suspect, he lacks the courage to give his warlike training a test so public, I will ward a spear with such of his friends, one by one, as may feel disposed to make his grievance theirs.”
The chiefs looked at each other in amazement at the broad challenge of Kamaiole, and the king seemed to be scarcely less astounded. But the proposal could not be deemed either unfair or unusual, since, according to the usage of the time, Kamaiole was answerable to Waikuku for the death of Iola.
The stinging remarks of the dauntless Kau chief left to Waikuku no pretext or excuse for declining the challenge, and the king somewhat reluctantly consented to a settlement of the matter by the arbitrament of single combat, with such weapons as might be mutually agreed upon.
Among the members of the royal household who witnessed this remarkable interview with the king was a chief of the old native line called Nanoa. Admiring the cool courage of Kamaiole, and feeling for him something of a sympathy of lineage, he proffered to stand his friend and adviser in the forthcoming encounter; and the arrangements finally made were that the hostile parties were to meet just at sunset in a grove immediately back of the palace enclosure. They were to be armed each with two spears and a javelin. The spears were first to be used when the combatants approached within twenty paces of each other. These being thrown without ending the battle, the parties were to advance to close encounter with their javelins, with the discretion of either throwing or retaining them in hand. No other weapons were to be used, and the conditions of the meeting were such that the king, who proposed to be present, did not deem it probable that there would be loss of life, especially as he had resolved to put an end to the combat with the first wound received by either.
Promptly at the time appointed the principals were on the ground. The attendants of Kamaiole were nowhere to be seen. By his orders they had quietly left the village two hours before, and the only friend at his side was Nanoa. He had thrown aside his cloak and helmet, and stood stern and motionless at the place assigned him, with a spear in his right hand, and another, with a javelin, at his feet. With limbs and shoulders bare, and beard and hair black as midnight veiling his neck, Kamaiole leaned upon his spear a picture of barbaric strength and courage.
Thirty paces in front of Kamaiole stood Waikuku, similarly armed and clad, but less calm than his adversary. Around him were a score or more of high chiefs, some rallying and others advising him; but he remained gloomily silent, nervously awaiting the arrival of the king and the word for action.
In a few minutes Kanipahu, accompanied by a number of armed attendants, arrived and took a seat prepared for him at a point about equally distant from the two combatants. It being announced that everything was in readiness, the king signaled the word to be given, and the hostile chiefs, advancing five paces each, were in a moment balancing their long spears for flight. The spear of Waikuku first shot through the air in a line direct for his adversary’s breast; but the latter adroitly turned it from its course with a touch from his own weapon, which he in turn launched at Waikuku without effect. The second spears were thrown to the injury of neither, when they grasped their javelins and slowly and warily began to advance. It was an exciting moment. As each had gripped his weapon with both hands, it was apparent that neither ihe would be thrown, and a hand-to-hand struggle was inevitable.
The king drew nearer to obtain a better view of the closing conflict, and the spectators eagerly watched every movement of the advancing chiefs. Approaching within striking distance—the javelins being about six feet in length—a few feints were made, and Waikuku ventured a desperate thrust at the breast of his opponent. The movement was evidently expected, perhaps invited, for like a flash the point of the ihe was thrown into the air, and the next moment Waikuku received a thrust through the side. He fell, javelin in hand, and Kamaiole was lifting his weapon to strike his prostrate enemy to the heart when “Stop!” came the command of the king.
Heedless of the royal order, or too greatly excited to be able to restrain his hand, Kamaiole savagely drove his javelin into the breast of Waikuku, inflicting a death-wound.
“Downward the face!” thundered the king, exasperated at Kamaiole’s apparent defiance of his order.