Captain Thornton, as we shall now call him, pressed his hands tightly over his eyes to repress his emotion, then clasped Allen to his breast. While this scene was being enacted the others had gone a little aside.
“Isn’t it all strange?” whispered Mabel to Etta.
“Yes, and to think of Allen and Ahleka being half brothers; did you think of that?” answered Etta.
“Sure enough; I had not thought of that. I wonder if Allen has, and how he will like it when he realizes it.” Mabel spoke in a tone as if she should not care for so dark a brother herself.
Presently Captain Thornton turned and said, “My son, Ahleka, has asked, that, in his name I extend the hospitality and protection of the village and island to you all, which I gladly do; he also wishes to give to Captain Gray and the two young ladies, this house and the one adjoining, which are his own. He will provide for the sailors with you’ hereafter, and, as for my son Allen, his comfort shall be my care.”
During this conversation the village had literally awakened from its sleep, and from every little grass house came streaming, dusky forms. They clustered around Ahleka, listening with open-eyed astonishment to the strange story he was telling them in their own musical tongue, with many a gesture. Presently a number of smiling girls darted off, and soon returned with long leis (bands) of flowers, made by braiding the brightest and sweetest flowers with ferns, or, a sweet smelling vine, into long garlands, with which they proceeded to deck each of the strangers, putting them over one shoulder and under the other arm like a military sash, leaving long ends to fall almost to the ground. More garlands were wound about their waists, placed upon their heads and around their necks until they were fairly clothed in flowers; the girls, meantime, laughing gaily, and repeating in their soft, musical voices, ah mie ha (you are welcome.)
CHAPTER IX.
The village of Nahua is in a great excitement to-day. Everything wears an aspect of unusual gaiety. The houses are bedecked with flowers, and in the center of the village has been erected two rows of high poles standing about twenty feet apart and extending in a line almost two hundred feet long. Garlands of flowers are stretched from the top of these poles in all directions and are also wound around the poles, the whole forming a canopied avenue of exceeding beauty. Under this canopy were placed two rows of straw mats; further on were laid more mats in the form of a letter H. On these mats was spread a banquet consisting of raw fish with chili peppers, fish dried in the sun, fish that had been wrapped in leaves and then cooked, devil fish which had been salted and dried, its long slender tentacles being regarded as an especial dainty. Then there was lemu, or sea kale, plantain, kalo, a vegetable resembling, somewhat, the potato, there was kui, or candlenut, ground to a coarse powder and salted, to be eaten as a relish to the fish. There were mangoes, guavas, oranges, dates, figs, pomegranates, papiea, young cocoanuts, the meat of which was not yet hard, but of a thick creamy appearance and had to be scooped out with little spoon-shaped pieces of shell. Then there was a large number of small cups made of wood curiously carved, containing a peculiar, greyish looking mass of something that would put one in mind of paste, if one were not told it was a very much liked dish, in fact, being the piece d’ resistance of the feast. Into these little dishes of poi, as it is called, a native will daintily dip the first finger, then giving it a quick twirl, wrap a sufficient quantity on the finger, when it is skillfully and gracefully conveyed to the mouth. For drinking, we were provided small calabashes full of the juice of the young cocoanut and large calabashes containing awa awa, a drink very much esteemed by them, being in its effects very much like whisky.
The cause of all this preparation was the fact that it was the yearly celebration of the maiden’s feast. On this day the inhabitants of the four villages on the island gathered at Nahua, the principal village of the kingdom.
All the morning of this day, Mabel and Etta had been very busy and now were resting under the shade of the trellis of their cottage, when a native girl, about sixteen years old, came toward the house, followed by an older girl, each bearing in their hands the fall dress of a native maiden; the younger girl was Kaelea, the sister of Ahleka. She was slender and graceful; her charms would have attracted the notice of a sculptor at first glance; her face was expressive; her features delicate; her eyes brown, large, soft and languorous; her hair hung in a wavy mass far below her waist. She moved with a peculiar grace seldom seen. But, if she was beautiful, what was Maula, who came with her, Maula was the maiden of the village, of Howcu, the village on that part of the island, which was beyond the arm of the sea; she was a vision of voluptuous loveliness, tall and stately, grand in her proportions; her eyes could melt in tenderest mood or flash in the wildest anger or proudest defiance. She seemed to bend every one to her will, so strong and passionate was her nature. She was much darker than Kaelea, being a full blooded native. In her bearing she somehow made one think of a tigress; when in a happy mood, moving with a sinuous grace, which was fascinating, and when angry, one could but admire her grandeur.