Makakehau left his love one day in the cave of Malauea while he went to the mountain spring to fill the water-gourds with sweet water. This cavern yawns at the base of the overhanging bluff that overtops the rock of Puupehe. The sea surges far within, but there is an inner space which the expert swimmer can reach, and where Puupehe had often rested and baked the honu> or sea turtle, for her absent lover.
This was the season for the kona, the terrific storm that comes up from the equator and hurls the ocean in increased volume upon the southern shores of the Hawaiian Islands. Makakehau beheld from the rock springs of Pulou the vanguard of a great kona,—scuds of rain and thick mist, rushing with a howling wind, across the valley of Palawai. He knew the storm would fill the cave with the sea and kill his love. He flung aside his calabashes of water and ran down the steep, then across the great valley and beyond its rim he rushed, through the bufferings of the storm, with an agonized heart, down the hill slope to the shore.
The sea was up indeed. The yeasty foam of mad surging waves whitened the shore. The thundering buffet of the charging billows chorused with the howl of the tempest. Ah! where should Misty Eyes find his love in this blinding storm? A rushing mountain of sea filled the mouth of Malauea, and the pent-up air hurled back the invading torrent with bubbling roar, blowing forth great streams of spray. This was a war of matter, a battle of the elements to thrill with pleasure the hearts of strong men. But with one’s love in the seething gulf of the whirlpool, what would be to him the sublime cataract? What, to see amid the boiling foam the upturned face, and the dear, tender body of one’s own and only poor dear love, all mangled? You might agonize on the brink; but Makakehau sprang into the dreadful pool and snatched his murdered bride from the jaws of an ocean grave.
The next day, fishermen heard the lamentation of Makakehau, and the women of the valley came down and wailed over Puupehe. They wrapped her in bright new kapa. They placed upon her garlands of the fragrant na-u (gardenia). They prepared her for burial, and were about to place her in the burial ground of Manele, but Makakehau prayed that he might be left alone one night more with his lost love. And he was left as he desired.
The next day no corpse nor weeping lover were to be found, till after some search Makakehau was seen at work piling up stones on the top of the lone sea tower. The wondering people of Lanai looked on from the neighboring bluff, and some sailed around the base of the columnar rock in their canoes, still wondering, because they could see no way for him to ascend, for every face of the rock is perpendicular or overhanging. The old belief was, that some akua, kanekoa, or keawe-manhili (deities), came at the cry of Makakehau and helped him with the dead girl to the top.
When Makakehau had finished his labors of placing his lost love in her grave and placed the last stone upon it, he stretched out his arms and wailed for Puupehe, thus:
“Where are you O Puupehe?
Are you in the cave of Malauea?
Shall I bring you sweet water,
The water of the mountain?