"And cherish me, and love me?" demanded O'olo with renewed motions of his knife, he undesirous of showing too great a willingness, and pretending indecision, besides doubting the chief's integrity.
"As God sees me that I will perform," said Tangaloa, "and now in my extremity I perceive the worth of true dealing with every man, for all my past years stand in witness to my honor, and he who trusted me has never been deceived."
At this O'olo was reassured, and he repeated the oath for Tangaloa to say after him, making it very full and exact, with nothing omitted; and then he kissed the old man, beginning to feel for him the tenderness of a son, he that had never had a father until this moment, and now having gained one of the loftiest rank; and he raised him lovingly, and bound his wound with a strip of cloth, and be-darlinged him, Tangaloa returning his love, and saying again and again: "Blessed be God that He has sent me a son for my protection."
Nor were these words of empty import, for others of the victorious army were much displeased at O'olo's clemency, and would have torn away Tangaloa and killed him, had not O'olo resisted with lowered gun and a threatening expression, so that he dared not leave his father for an instant so greedy were the warriors for his head. All that day he crouched beside him, with neither water to drink nor food to eat, guarding Tangaloa preciously; and had it not been for the confusion that attends the finish of a battle, and the lessening of authority that follows, he would have been overpowered by a multitude, and all his bravery wasted. But those who assailed him were without cohesion or settled plan, and they were as dogs, rushing up to affright, and then losing courage at O'olo's demeanor, which was fierce and unshaken, with his rifle at the cock.
It was a day terrible to remember in its heat and hunger and unbearable thirst, with about them the headless dead, festering in the sun and blackening, and over them the sky without a cloud, and always at their hearts the dread of Asi and the chiefs, returning to kill them both. At dusk it seemed as though O'olo could never get his father to his feet, so destroyed was the old man by weakness and disinclination, and he was as a sinking canoe, or a sting ray flopping on the reef, and abandoned by the tide. But O'olo persevered, dragging and supporting him until coconuts were reached, where he climbed a tree and threw down nui in abundance; and as they drank the water they were greatly refreshed, and with every bite of the rind, vigor returned, and with vigor, boldness. Then Tangaloa said: "Let us pray"; and with that they both went down on their knees, the old chief beseeching God for deliverance, and repeating again and again his thankfulness for O'olo, and for the nuts.
But all was far from finished, and there was much for God to do yet if ever He destined them to gain the security of Savai'i; and O'olo proclaimed his intention of hiding in the mountains, and going eastward circuitously, and making no sign or stir until the close of the war, and the withdrawal of the Tuamasanga from A'ana. To this Tangaloa agreed without argument, resigning himself like a little child to O'olo's guidance, and making no demur when the Tongan said: "Let us rise and go, for by dawn we must be on the heights, and beyond pursuit."
Thus determined, they took the plantation road upward, assisted by the moon which was near its full; and toilsomely attaining the limits of the cultivated land, buried themselves in the tomb of the forest. Here, with groping and hurt, and frequent misdirection, they struggled on and on, making of a watercourse their path, and at times so hidden in the defile of rocks that it was as though the earth had closed over them. In this manner were many hours spent until at last Tangaloa fell exhausted on a bank of ferns, saying: "More I cannot do." Then O'olo built a fire to warm his parent, who was perishing of cold, and rubbed his legs, and shaped a bough for his pillow, and kissed him lovingly; and when the old man said: "I am convinced we shall die"; he answered stoutly, "No, we shall live, for God has not brought us thus far to desert us now"; at which Tangaloa was comforted and went to sleep, while O'olo watched and watched beside him, his heart much troubled by the evil of their situation, and the frailty of the old chief, and the assailing doubts as to whether, after all, they should ever escape.
The news of O'olo's desertion was variously twisted by the returning troops, so that to Evanitalina, inquiring in anguish, there were as many tales as men. Some would have it that they had seen him die, giving details; others that he had run away from the battle, in wildness and panic; others praised him truthfully for a hero, and as the first to leap the fort. Of these there was a fewness, for the most preferred to laud themselves or their relations rather than another, and accordingly most of the chatter was scornful of O'olo, and to his discredit. But Evanitalina knew that O'olo was no coward, and her misgiving was that he was dead, which deepened with the passing of months, and no sign nor token coming to prove the contrary. Viliamu, too, was assiduous in declaring it, which he did with artfulness and pretended sorrow, urging all the while his own suit, like a squid of apparent harmlessness on the surface, but with its suckers enfolding venomously below.
Never was a maid in sadder straits, widowed before she was a wife, and unceasingly plagued by Samuelu to marry either Viliamu or Carl. She grew thin, and when she walked it was like a sick person, staggeringly, and once of so passionate a temper she changed to a gentleness that nothing could disturb. The compassion of the other maids lavished itself upon her, for they saw that she was dying of grief for her beloved; and at night, when wooed under the stars, they spoke with tenderness of O'olo and Evanitalina, and of their love so cruelly ruptured; so that every one wept, even young men who previously had had neither consideration nor sense, to whom a maid was a maid, were only she pretty, and who would have hastened for another had the first died; which shows that true love is like a seed, growing and becoming a tree, from which others eat the fruit to their own improvement, and increased understanding.