But the Councillor was not for having Ka-le-lea and Ke-ino put to death in any way. “Rather carry out the wish that the boldest of them spoke out,” he said. “If any one can help you in the war, it is that man. Send for both of them and carry out the bold one’s wish to the very end. You have a wish too: it is to win the whole Island for yourself. That man, believe me, is the one who can help you to have that wish of yours made real.” The King agreed at last to let Ka-le-lea and Ke-ino live, and he even agreed to carry out to its very end the wish that Ka-le-lea had made. He ordered his men to cut timber and build houses for the two fishermen and the wives he was going to give them, and after that he sent an officer with soldiers to bring Ka-le-lea and Ke-ino to him.
Ke-ino was the first to waken up that morning. And when he went to the door he saw the dagger that was stuck at the entrance. Then he knew that the King’s servant had been listening in the night and that he had heard all that had been said. “We are going to be killed,” he said to Ka-le-lea; “your [[187]]terrible wish has been overheard, and the two of us are going to die for it.”
But Ka-le-lea only stirred on the mat he was lying on; he didn’t even get up to go to the door. And then Ke-ino saw a company of people coming out of the King’s house. They carried axes. “Here are our deaths,” said Ke-ino. But the procession he saw was that of the King’s servants as they went towards the mountain to cut timbers for the two houses that were to be built, according to the Councillor’s advice and the King’s orders, for himself and Ka-le-lea and the wives who were to be given to them—the King’s two daughters.
Later on, another procession came from the King’s house. This one came straight towards their house. The men were armed with spears, and the officers had on their shoulders cloaks of bright feathers, and their war-helmets were on their heads. Ke-ino said: “Our deaths are now close to us.” But all that Ka-le-lea answered was: “Keep your eye on them.”
He did not move until then. Then he rose up from the mat he had been sleeping on, and he took up his club. He went outside, and by this time the armed men had come up. The officer said: “We have come to take you two before the king.” Ka-le-lea said never a word, but with his great club he struck the house a mighty blow, and he scattered its thatch and its timbers in all directions. [[188]]
Then, very much to their surprise, Ka-le-lea and Ke-ino were put into a litter and carried on the shoulders of the soldiers. They were brought before the King. They were served according to the wish of Ka-le-lea: the dogs and the hogs and the fat fish were given them to eat; the King prepared the drink for them, and in his own cup he brought it to Ka-le-lea and Ke-ino. And when they had drunken, the King’s daughters were brought before them. One was wed to Ka-le-lea, and the other was wed to Ke-ino. And then each couple was given a house to live in, a house that the King had had built for them in a single day.
Ka-le-lea, the one who had uttered the bold wish, was not seen much after that. He stayed in the house that had been given him. Ke-ino was the one who was around all the time. And the King took Ke-ino and made him an officer, and gave him a feather cape for his shoulders and a war-helmet to go on his head. After that, Ke-ino went into the fight with a company of men; every day he won a victory. But, for all that, the war still went on.
Ka-le-lea stayed in the house all day with his wife, the King’s daughter. He had no war-helmet, no feather cape, and he never took a company of men out to battle. Ke-ino was the great man now, and Ka-le-lea was never spoken of.
Still the war went on. But after the first crow of [[189]]the cock, a man with a great club used to go to Ha-la-wa, where the officers and chiefs of Pueo-nui’s army were, and do battle with them. This the man did every day. He would come upon a company of them, and fight with them, striking right and left with his club. He would slay them all. Then he would gather up their feather capes and their war-helmets, and he would run, run away. The fighting chiefs were all killed by him, and Pueo-nui’s army melted away. There were stories about how the chiefs were killed in the early morning, and of how their feather capes and their war-helmets were taken away. No one knew the warrior who fought with them and overcame them. But the King was sure that Ke-ino was the one who did it all.
When the last of Pueo-nui’s fighting chiefs was killed, an end came to the war, and Pueo-nui gave his lands and his kingdom to King Ka-ku-he-hewa. And that very morning, as the stranger warrior who had done battle with the chiefs was running back, he was seen by a watchman in the light of the early morning. The watchman flung a spear at the running man. It struck him on the arm, just above the wrist. He kept on running. The spear had a hook, and the watchman knew that it would be hard for the warrior to draw it out of the flesh of his arm.