Waahia saw disaster approaching, but knew that Kalaunui would not listen to her voice of warning, and therefore remained silent when the kilos, anxious to please the king, shaped their inauspicious auguries into promises of victory. Her greatest solicitude was for Kualu. He had been entrusted with an important command, and could find no honorable pretext for declining to accept the hazard of the final struggle on Kauai. Waahia, therefore, did not advise him to remain, for she had seen his star shining above the clouds of defeat. She had sought frequent and earnest counsel of the mysterious intelligences of the earth and air. She had seen their answers in the smoke of burning incense, and within the circle of blood at midnight, when the moon was dark, had heard their whispers. Hence it was with confidence that she said to Kualu, on the evening before the departure of the fleet for Kauai:
“Yes, you must go. I can be of no service to you where the air will be filled with spears and the canoes will be painted red with blood. I will return to Hawaii. You will be defeated. Kukona is a brave and skilful warrior, and the army of Kalaunui. will be rent in pieces and thrown into the sea. The slaughter will be great, but circumstances will open a way and you will escape.”
“And should I escape, where will I find you?” inquired Kualu.
“Among the owls in the old hut in Waipio,” replied the kaula.
“And the long knife?”
“The long knife is where I alone can find it,” answered Waahia. “Leave the secret to me; it will be of service to us yet.”
Early next morning the army of Kalaunui set sail for Kauai, and with it, as prisoners, the mois of Maui and Molokai and the alii-nui of Oahu. At the same time Waahia embarked for Hawaii, taking with her the war-god of the king. Traditions differ concerning the circumstances under which the god was delivered to the prophetess. One asserts that she refused to hold her peace or leave the expedition without it; another that the king, annoyed by her ill-omened words and presence, purchased her departure with it; and a third that it was given to her in deference to her declaration that, if taken to Kauai, it would not return except at the head of a conquering army that would make a tributary kingdom of Hawaii. Certain it is, however, that Waahia returned to Hawaii from Oahu with the war-god of the king. It was the sacred Akuapaao, or war-god of Paao, and was held in great reverence by the priesthood. Borne over the waters by unseen forces, the canoe of Waahia was stranded on the beach at Koholalele, on the island of Hawaii. Not far off was the old heiau of Manini, and thither the god was conveyed, and placed in the custody of the high-priest of the temple, with the injunction that it was never to be removed from the inner court, or sanctuary, unless the kingdom was in peril. Six generations after it was taken from the heiau by the giant Maukaleoleo, and carried at the head of the victorious army of Umi, as mentioned in the legend of “Umi, the Peasant Prince of Hawaii.”
Five hundred canoes had been added to the fleet of Kalaunui, and the imposing squadron seemed to stretch half across the wide channel separating the two islands. A landing was made at Koloa, and the entire army disembarked without opposition. The district seemed to be deserted, and not a hostile spear was visible. And so continued the peaceful aspect until daylight the next morning, when Kukona, supported by every prominent chief of Kauai, suddenly precipitated upon the invaders from the surrounding hills an army of ten thousand warriors. Nor this alone. Along the westward coast was seen approaching a fleet of nearly a thousand war-canoes, with the manifest design of capturing or destroying the canoes of the Hawaiians and cutting off their retreat by sea. Hastily forming his lines to meet the avalanche from the hills, Kalaunui despatched Kualu to the beach with a force of three thousand warriors to protect the canoes.
The attacks by land and sea were almost simultaneous, and the battle was one of the most stubborn and sanguinary ever fought in the group. As predicted by Waahia, the air was filled with spears and the canoes were painted red with blood. Standing in the water to their hips, Kualu and his warriors met their enemies as they attempted to land, and a struggle of the wildest description followed. Canoes were upset; men were hauled into them and killed, and out of them and drowned, and for a distance of three or four hundred yards in the surf along the beach raged a desperate conflict, dreadful even to savage eyes. In their fury they fought in, above and under the water, and hundreds fiercely grappled and without a wound sank to their deaths together. Neither would yield, and in the end resistance ceased, and Kualu saw the beach strewn with dead, a thousand tenantless canoes idly playing with the surf, and less than as many hundreds of warriors left as he had led thousands into the fight. He had saved the fleet, but the sacrifice of life had been terrible.
Despatching a messenger to the king, and speedily reorganizing the remnant of his force, Kualu was about to leave the beach for service where he might most be needed, when he discovered, with horror, that the Hawaiian army had been defeated, and in scattered fragments was seeking flight in all directions. Harassed by pursuit, a thousand or more were fighting and struggling to reach the beach. Satisfied that the battle was lost, to facilitate the escape of the fugitives Kualu ordered a large number of canoes to be hastily equipped and launched, and then started back to assist in covering the retreat. But his men refused to follow him. Knowing the danger of delay, all but a few of them leaped into canoes and paddled out to sea. As he could do nothing more, he selected a canoe suitable to the four persons who were to occupy it, and with his three remaining companions passed through the surf and headed for Oahu.