The Hawaiian Romance Of Laieikawai Part 18

When Aiwohikupua and his companion started to go, Kahalaomapuana, the youngest sister, called out, "O you two there! Wait! Had we known in Kauai that you were bringing us to leave us in this place, we would never have come. It is only fair that I, too, should have had a chance to win Laieikawai, and had I failed then you would have a right to leave me; we are all together, the guilty with the guiltless; you know me well, I have gained all your wishes."

When Aiwohikupua heard his youngest sister, he felt himself to blame.

Aiwohikupua called to his sister, "You shall come with me; your older sisters must stay here."

"I will not go," answered the youngest sister, "unless we all go together, only then will I go home."

CHAPTER X

At these words of his youngest sister[43] Aiwohikupua said, "Stay here, then, with your sisters and go with them wherever you wish, but I am going home."

Aiwohikupua turned to go, and as the two were still on the way, sang the song of Mailehaiwale, as follows:

My divine brother, My heart's highest, Go and look Into the eyes of our parents, say We abide here, Fed upon the fruit of sin.[44]

Is constancy perhaps a sin?

Aiwohikupua turned and looked back at his younger sisters and said, "Constancy is not a sin; haven't I told you that I leave you because you are worthless? If you had gained for me my desire you would not have to stay here; that was what you were brought here for." The two turned and went on and did not listen to the sisters any longer.

When Aiwohikupua and his companion had departed, the sisters conferred together and agreed to follow him, thinking he could be pacified.

They descended and came to the coast at Keaau, where the canoe was making ready for sailing. At the landing the sisters sat waiting to be called; all had gone aboard the canoe, there was no summons at all, the party began to move off; then rang out the song of Mailekaluhea, as follows:

My divine brother, My heart's highest--turn hither, Look upon your little sisters, Those who have followed you over the way, Over the high way, over the low way, In the rain with a pack on its back, Like one carrying a child, In the rain that roars in the hala trees, That roars in the hala trees of Ha.n.a.lei.

How is it with us?

Why did you not leave us, Leave us at home, When you went on the journey?

You will look, Look into the eyes, The eyes of our parents, Fare you well!

While Mailekaluhea was singing not once did their brother compa.s.sionately look toward them, and the canoe having departed, the sisters sat conferring, then one of them, Kahalaomapuana, the youngest, began to speak.

These were her words: "It is clear that our brother chief is not pacified by the entreaties of Mailehaiwale and Mailekaluhea. Let us, better, go by land to their landing place, then it will be Mailelaulii's turn to sing. It may be he will show affection for her." And they did as she advised.

They left Keaau, came first to Punahoa, to a place called Kanoakapa, and sat down there until Aiwohikupua's party arrived.

When Aiwohikupua and his companions had almost come to land where the sisters were sitting, Aiwohikupua suddenly called out to the paddlers and the steersmen, "Let us leave this harbor; those women have chased us all this way; we had better look for another landing place."

As they left the sisters sitting there, Mailelaulii sang a song, as follows:

My divine brother, My heart's highest, What is our great fault?

The eyes of our chief are turned away in displeasure, The sound of chanting is forbidden, The chant of your little ones Of your little sisters.

Have compa.s.sion upon us, Have compa.s.sion upon the comrades who have followed you, The comrades who climbed the cliffs of Haena, Crept over the cliff where the way was rugged, The rugged ladder-way up Nualolo The rough cliff-way up Makana, It is there--return hither, Give a kiss to your sisters, And go on your way, On the home journey--heartless.

Farewell-to you, you shall look Look, in our native land, Into the eyes of our parents.

Fare you well!

As Aiwohikupua heard the sister's voice, they let the canoe float gently; then said Kahalaomapuana, "That is good for us; this is the only time they have let the canoe float; now we shall hear them calling to us, and go on board the canoe, then we shall be safe."

After letting the canoe float a little while, the whole party turned and made off, and had not the least compa.s.sion.

When they had left, the sisters consulted afresh what they should do.

Kahalaomapuana gave her advice.

She said to her sisters, "There are two of us left, I and Mailepakaha."

Answered Mailepakaha, "He will have no compa.s.sion for me, for he had none on any of our sisters; it may be worse with me. I think you had better plead with him as you are the little one, it may be he will take pity on you."

But the youngest would not consent; then they drew lots by pulling the flower stems of gra.s.s; the one who pulled the longest, she was the one to plead with the brother; now when they drew, the lot fell to Kahalaomapuana.

When this was done, they left Punahoa, again followed their brother and came to Honolii, where Aiwohikupua's party had already arrived. Here they camped at some distance from Aiwohikupua's party, and Aiwohikupua's party from them.

At Honolii that night they arranged that the others should sleep and a single one keep watch, and to this all consented. They kept watch according to age and gave the morning watch to the youngest. This was in order to see Aiwohikupua's start, for on their journey from Kauai the party had always set out at dawn.

The sisters stood guard that night, until in Mailepakaha's watch Aiwohikupua's party made the canoes ready to start; she awakened the others, and all awoke together.

As the sisters crouched there Kahalaomapuana's watch came, and the party boarded the canoe. The sisters followed down to the landing, and Kahalaomapuana ran and clung to the back of the canoe and called to them in song, as follows:

Our brother and lord, Divine brother, Highest and closest!

Where are you, oh! where?

You and we, here and there, You, the voyager, We, the followers.

Along the cliffs, swimming 'round the steeps, Bathing at Waihalau, Waihalau at Wailua; No longer are we beloved.

Do you no longer love us?

The comrades who followed you over the ocean, Over the great waves, the little waves, Over the long waves, the short waves, Over the long-backed waves of the ocean, Comrades who followed you inland, Far through the jungle, Through, the night, sacred and dreadful, Oh, turn back!

Oh, turn back and have pity, Listen to my pleading, Me the littlest of your sisters.

Why will you abandon, Abandon us In this desolation?

You have opened the highway before us, After you we followed, We are known as your little sisters, Then forsake your anger, The wrath, the loveless heart, Give a kiss to your little ones, Fare you well!

When, his youngest sister raised this lamentation to Aiwohikupua, then the brother's heart glowed with love and longing for his sister.

And because of his great love for his little sister, he took her in his arms, set her on his lap, and wept.

When Kahalaomapuana was in her brother's lap, Aiwohikupua ordered the canoemen to paddle with all their might; then the other sisters were left far behind and the canoe went ahead.

As they went, Kahalaomapuana was troubled in mind for her sisters.

Then Kahalaomapuana wept for her sisters and besought Aiwohikupua to restore her to her sisters; but Aiwohikupua would not take pity on her.

"O Aiwohikupua," said his sister, "I will not let you take me by myself without taking my sisters with me, for you called me to you before when we were at Paliuli, but I would not consent to your taking me alone."

And because of Aiwohikupua's stubbornness in refusing to let his sister go, then Kahalaomapuana jumped from the canoe into the sea. Then, for the last time she spoke to her brother in a song, as follows:

You go home and look, Look into the eyes, Into the eyes of our parents.

Love to our native land, My kindred and our friends, I am going back to your little sisters, To my older sisters I return.

Chapter XI