Hawaiian Historical Legends

by W. D. Westervelt

His uncle, Ka-lani-opuu, who ruled the large island of Hawaii at the time of the death of Captain Cook, had died in 1782. Ka-meha-meha had been chosen king by a number of influential chiefs in opposition to his cousin Kiwa-lao, the son of Ka-lani-opuu. War arose between the cousins. Kiwa-lao was slain in one of the early conflicts. Other chiefs, of the southern part of the island, refused to swear allegiance to Ka-meha-meha, and had continued the war. The favors of the war gods had been almost equally distributed. The last battle had been fought at Hilo. At the time when our story opens Ka-meha-meha’s attack had been repulsed with fearful loss on the part of his followers. At this time he was forty-seven years of age and just commencing the life work of a king and savage statesman.

The king looked thoughtfully down into the valley where the wounded and wearied warriors were [[166]]drawing the war canoes out of the inrolling surf. In the village could be heard wailing as the scanty news of the battle was hastily reported, and the people realised that some loved chief or friend would never return again to their homes.

The king’s heart grew warm toward his faithful friends as he want down into the valley to tell them there was no pursuit, and they could seek rest and healing. While the chiefs were around the poi-bowl that evening he was very quiet. He was thinking of the bodies of his warriors laid on the altars before the gods of the southern districts of the island. He thought of the naked altars of his own Waipio temple, to which he had brought no captives to be slain in sacrifice. He imagined that he might go alone and do some daring deed, perhaps make a hurried raid upon some unsuspecting point of his enemy’s territories. He rose from his mat and quietly passed out into the darkness. He called a few strong boatmen and his favourite canoe steerer, launched one of the war canoes, and with sail and paddle sped southward.

That night was rough for Hawaiian seas. Thunder reverberated in oft-repeated echoes from the sea cliffs. Thunder and lightning are rare in this part of the great Pacific. Heavy winds blew and dashed the waves high around the canoe. The natives say, “The chief was not in danger, because his steersman was skilful and watchful. The sea [[167]]did not break over the boat, nor were they wet. Like a dolphin the boat ran over the waves.”

It was a misty morning as he passed Hilo Bay, where the greater part of his enemies was encamped. His boat, far out in the shadows, was not noticed. He passed around a corner of the island and planned to surprise the natives of a noted fishing-ground, hoping to make captives and secure booty from some of the warriors against whom the recent battle had been fought.

The morning light was touching the inland mountain tops. It rested, a silver star, on the snowy summit of Mauna Kea. It made a golden glory of the fire clouds of the volcano Kilauea. It glistened over the black beds of pa-hoe-hoe, or smooth, shining lava. It began to bring into strong relief the uplifted heads of the cocoanut trees of a century’s growth. The white foam of ocean waves began to be visible along the outer reef.

The natives of Papai, a bay on the Puna coast, hastened into the sea to gather the delicacies which are usually found among the shell-fish along the reef, and also to set nets and snares for fish.

As the mists rose from the waters, the oarsmen entered into the spirit of the adventure. Like a shark the war canoe dashed toward the fishermen.

The people of Puna, looking toward the dawn on the sea, had noticed the boat far out. They asked each other, “What boat is this of the early [[168]]morning?” After a little they counted the number of oarsmen. They saw that the newcomers were strangers. Then they asked a native who was visiting them, whose home was on the other side of the island: “O Paiea, do you know who this is?”

Paiea looked, recognised his ruling chief and called out: “It is Ka-meha-meha!” Then the people were filled with fear, for the prowess of the chief was well known and greatly feared. They seized paddles and nets and snares and with the screaming women and children fled, rushing along the reef, falling into the deep holes, swimming and stumbling toward the mainland.