The Legends and Myths of Hawaii: The fables and folk-lore of a strange people

by King of Hawaii David Kalakaua

And now we will return to Kalaunui and his army of conquest, last seen on their way to Maui in a fleet of two thousand canoes. Sailing to the western division of the island, which was reached in two days, Kalaunui effected a landing of his army at Lahaina. Kamaluohua, the moi of the island, had learned of the projected invasion some days before, and made every preparation possible to meet and repel it. Lunapais, or war-messengers, had been despatched to the several district chiefs, and an army of seven or eight thousand warriors of all arms had been hastily collected. Wakalana had gone to the general defence with a force of eight hundred men, including Kaluiki, the Japanese captain, upon whose presence great reliance was placed by the warriors of Wailuku, if not by Wakalana himself.

Unable to land at Lahaina, which was in possession of the enemy, Kamaluohua marched his forces across the mountains, and a sanguinary battle was fought in the neighborhood of the village. But the Mauians, greatly outnumbered, were defeated and driven back to the hills, and their king was taken prisoner. Throughout the battle Kualu was especially conspicuous for his might and courage. Armed with a huge stone axe, everything human seemed to fall before him, and where he led the bravest alone followed, for he sought the very heart of danger.

The conflict was drawing to a close. The moi, gallantly fighting, had been taken prisoner, and his decimated battalions were steadily giving way, when Kualu encountered a body of two or three hundred men resolutely defending themselves behind a low stone wall. Several ineffectual attempts to dislodge them had been made, and they were sending forth shouts of victory and defiance. Something had inspired them with unusual courage and confidence. Did Kualu divine what it was? Perhaps he did, for, hastily rallying to his support a force of sturdy warriors, he fought his way over the wall, and a determined hand-to-hand struggle followed. Meantime a flanking party of spearsmen had made a circuit around the wall and were menacing its defenders in the rear. Observing the peril of the situation, and that an effort was being made to cut off their retreat to the hills, the Mauians began to fall back. As they did so Kualu was seen to dash forward and precipitate himself, almost unsupported, upon a score or two of warriors who had apparently rallied to the assistance of some chief in distress. Regardless of danger, he hewed his way through the battling throng until he stood face to face with Kaluiki, the white captain, in whose hand was the shining blade which had so nerved the arms of the warriors of Wailuku. With a blow of his battle-axe he struck the sword from the upraised hand of the strange warrior. As it fell to the earth he placed his foot upon it, and yielded no ground until the tide of battle swept around and past him, forcing to retreat the last to present a hostile front of the army of the captive king of Maui.

Left alone for a moment by the wild pursuit of the flying enemy, Kualu hurriedly stooped and thrust the sword into the earth, pressing it downward until the hilt was covered; then, placing a large rock upon the spot, he left the field, numbering, as he went, his paces to the wall behind which the Mauians had sought protection.

The victory was complete. The moi was a prisoner, and such of his army as had not escaped to the hills lay dead on the field. The country was given over to pillage, and at sunset twenty prisoners were slain and sacrificed in a heiau near the village. The sacrifices were made to his war-god, and Kalaunui witnessed the solemn ceremonies of the offering.

The night was spent in the wildest revelry by the victorious warriors, in the midst of which Kualu sought his foster-mother, who, with the women and non-combatants of the invading army, was encamped near the canoes on the beach. He hastily recited to her the events of the day, and concluded with the information that he had captured the long, bright knife of the strange chief of Wailuku, and, believing it to be of great value, had hidden it in the earth. At this intelligence the eyes of Waahia flashed with satisfaction.

“You have done well,” said the kaula, rising to her feet. “I have seen that long knife in my dreams. It will have much to do with your future. But it will be unsafe in your possession. Give it to me. Give it to me at once,” she repeated, “for should Kalaunui by any chance learn that it was taken in battle, he will claim it.”

“But I am sure no one saw me hide it,” replied Kualu.

“You talk like a boy,” returned Waahia. “You must be sure of nothing of which there is a possibility of doubt. But no matter. It is not too dark to find the spot to-night. Let us go to it at once.”

Excited by her words, Kualu now became no less anxious than the kaula that the sword should be placed in her keeping, and in an indirect way, to avoid observation, they repaired to the battle-field. Their only light was that of the stars, and after reaching the wall it was some time before Kualu was able to identify the exact place to which he had extended the line of his hasty measurement. The ground was strewn with the naked bodies of the slain, and occasional groans came from a few whose struggles with death were not quite over. But no emotion, either of dread or pity, disturbed the visitors.