Our Little Hawaiian Cousin

It seems that Lono was one of the gods in whom the brown people still believed. He had gone away from their island long before, and had promised to come back some day on an island bearing cocoanut-trees, swine, and dogs.

They thought the tall masts must be the cocoanut-trees, and when they saw the dogs and swine on board the ships, they were quite sure the promise had come true. Captain Cook himself must be Lono come again, and the sailors were lower gods who served him.

One of the priests brought a red cloak and placed it on Captain Cook's shoulders. This was the mark of his greatness. Such an honour could only be offered a god.

There were great feasts for the visitors. Offerings of fruit, chickens, and all good things possible were made to the white men. They grew fat on the fine living. They were merry over their good times. No doubt they laughed at the foolish belief of the savages, as they called them. But they did not say:

"My brown friends, we are glad you are so kind to us, but please don't think we are great beings. We are human beings like yourselves."

Do you not think that would have been wiser and more honest?

After awhile one of the sailors died. Then the brown people began to think. They said among themselves:

"Gods cannot die. These people die, so they cannot be gods."

They began to watch more closely. Captain Cook was very quick-tempered. He and his men sometimes quarrelled with the natives and were cruel. At last, sad to say, the brave captain was killed in one of these quarrels.

Some people believe the Hawaiians of that time were cannibals and ate his dead body. But this is not true. Auwae would feel very badly if she thought her American brothers and sisters could believe this. Captain Cook was a very great and brave man in the opinion of the brown child, as well as in yours. But he ought not to have let the people believe he was anything else than himself, – a white traveller from other lands.

There is a monument to his memory on the island, and when you visit Auwae she will take you to see it.

After Captain Cook's death other white men came and taught the Hawaiians many things. They helped the rulers in governing wisely; and at last the people saw it was best to put themselves under the care of their white brothers.

Auwae likes to read about the old days, however. She delights in hearing her grandmother tell of her own youth; of the visit the king once made to her village; and of the grand celebration in his honour. The days were given up to feasting and entertainments. Men practised boxing and wrestling for a long time beforehand; there were wonderful feats on horseback, in which Auwae's grandfather took part.

As he rode at full gallop through the village, he surpassed all others in leaning from his horse and picking small coins from the ground. Best of all, the old woman said, as he rode along he wrung off the necks of fowls whose bodies were buried in the ground. And this he did without checking his horse's pace at all.

But the most joyful part of the day was when the king, fairly covered with wreaths of flowers, took his place under a beautiful pandanus-tree; then his subjects, one by one, came up before him, and, cheering and bowing, gave him offerings. It was always the best which the people offered their lord. There were presents of live fowls, hogs, clusters of bananas, cakes of seaweed, eggs, cocoanuts, nets of sweet potatoes, taro; everything which the king could desire.

"What joy and good-will those days brought!" says Auwae's grandmother. "It was the happiest time of my life."

The old woman takes a great deal of interest in everything her little granddaughter does. She is very proud of Auwae's collection of land-shells. She thinks it must be the finest one any child possesses in the whole island. She, herself, gave Auwae at least half of the different varieties. She had kept them from the time of her own childhood.

Did you ever hear of land-shells? They are found on the low, overhanging branches of trees, and the little creatures who make their homes in them would die if you were to put them into the salt water. They are very tiny, and are of many different tints. Auwae has beautiful blue ones, as well as rosy pink, pale yellow, green, violet, and I don't know how many other colours. In little basket trays, side by side, they look very pretty. Each variety has a tray of its own.

Many days must have been spent in gathering the collection; many different people have helped Auwae in making it, – for often only a single kind of shell can be found in one whole island. People in Hawaii exchange specimens, just as the American boys and girls trade postage-stamps with each other. The white people in the village would like to buy Auwae's collection to send to a museum across the ocean, but she would not think of parting with it.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE DIVER

When school is over, Upa and Auwae go home through the woods so that they can throw stones in a certain waterfall. They have no fear that snakes will suddenly take them by surprise, for there is not a single one in the whole island. Neither do they hear frogs croaking beside a shady pool, for neither frogs nor toads have ever hopped upon Hawaiian soil.

Wherever they come to an open space beneath the trees, they play ball. Upa made his own ball out of leaves which he packed closely together, and Auwae bound it with sweet-smelling grasses when he had pressed it into shape.

The boy's busy mind has planned new sport for the afternoon, and he says:

"Auwae, after you have had your nap, do you want to fish? Old Hiko is going out to the coral reefs, and he has promised I should go with him. He says I may bring you, too, if you wish."

Auwae claps her hands with pleasure, for it will be a great treat. Hiko is the only one in the village now who dives for fish. The other men use lines made from the fibres of the flax-plant, and are satisfied to sit in their boats, and lazily wait for bites. Auwae has grown to be a fine diver, and hopes to learn something by watching the old man.

After a dinner of dried devil-fish and sweet potatoes, with baked seaweed for a relish, and a delicious pudding of grated taro and cocoanut milk, our little brown cousin stretches herself under the trees, and is soon fast asleep.

She is dreaming of catching fresh-water shrimps in the stream near her house when she is roused by a gentle pat on her forehead. It is Upa, who says:

"We must hurry, Auwae. Hiko is going in half an hour, and he will not wait for us."

Auwae is instantly wide awake, and after a loving "Aloha!" to her mother, she hurries to the shore with Upa.

The old fisherman is already there in his long, clumsy-looking canoe. He hollowed it from the trunk of a tree, and there is just room enough inside for himself and the two children. At one side of the boat there is an outrigger to balance it, and make it quite safe.

Hiko has a queer-looking paddle in his hand, and another beside him. These paddles are like clumsy wooden spoons; it seems wonderful how fast they can make the boat travel over the water.

The children wade out from the shore to the deeper water where the boat is riding; then with a bound they spring into their places, Auwae to steer, and Upa to seize the other paddle.

On they go till they are directly over the coral reef. The sea is a beautiful green, and as clear as glass. Now they let the boat float along, and all eyes are bent down upon the groves of coral below the water. All at once Hiko rises suddenly to his feet, and springs upon the edge of the canoe; but first he seizes in one hand a small fish-net, and in the other a palm leaf.

Ah! down he dives, straight over the side of the boat! Down! down! Will he ever come back? Do not fear. This is mere sport for him, – surprising a shoal of fish at play among the coral spires. To the waiting children it seems as though he were gone a long time, but in reality it is no more than a minute.

As he appears again out of the water they shout in excitement, "What luck, Hiko? What luck?" But they do not need to ask, for they see that his net is half-full. He has actually brushed the fish into it with his palm leaf, as your mother brushes crumbs from the table into the tray.

How beautiful are these fish! They are of many colours: red, green, blue, and yellow. Among them is one of a delicate pink tint, shaped much like a trout. Still another is a queer-looking fish with a purple body, a blue spotted tail, and a dark head that shines brightly in the sunlight.

But the greatest treasure in the old man's collection is the sea-cock, or ki-hi ki-hi, as he calls it. Its back is covered with stripes of black and yellow; it is perfectly round in shape, while a long, transparent ribbon is fastened to its nose.

Hiko lifts the sea-cock from the net with great pride. To show the children how beautiful it is while floating in the water, he fastens a cord through the creature's head, and drops it below the surface. It looks now like a gorgeous butterfly as it trails after the boat.

But Hiko is not satisfied yet. He says he will dive once more, as he wishes to give Upa's mother a goodly mess of fish for her supper. At the next dive he is gone for a longer time than before. Auwae grows fearful just as his old face appears once more. He is puffing hard for breath, and his eyes are red and blood-shot. He has been even more successful this time, but is quite tired. He tells the children they can allow the boat to float for awhile. They may rest for a luncheon on some of the dainties he has just secured. Each may choose the fish liked best.

It seems queer to see the pleasure with which Auwae's pearly teeth meet in the tail of the sea-cock. But such is the habit of her people, and raw fish seems no stranger food to her than fresh-picked strawberries or pineapples.

The party now paddle their way homewards. But, listen! A sound of music comes from the direction of the shore. See! there are at least four canoes filled with people. They are coming out for a race, and, as they move along, are merrily singing in rhythm with the motion of their paddles.

As they come nearer, our little brown maiden sees her father and mother amongst the party. She stands up in the canoe, and shouts: "Oh, mamma! we have had such fun! Hiko says we may stay out and race with you, too."

And now Hiko turns the canoe in the direction all the others are going. The surf is running high; there is a good breeze blowing toward shore, so there will be fine sport. All who hold paddles work with a will, and the canoes are soon beyond the breakers; then they line up and watch for a big roller.

They have only a minute to wait; all eyes turn as Hiko shouts, "Hoi! hoi!" ("paddle with all your might").

The canoes rush onward with all the force the rowers can put into them; for the boats must be moving fast enough when the breaker reaches them to keep up with the onrushing water. Otherwise they will be overturned, and the people obliged to swim ashore; which would certainly not be pleasant.

Hurrah! The canoes are suddenly lifted up to a great height by the mighty power of the roller; then down they suddenly drop to level water again and speed onward to the shore. It is like a long, grand toboggan slide, only it is on water instead of snow or ice.

Auwae's boat reaches the beach first of all. There is a shout of laughter from the gay company who follow. It is because one of the canoes has been left far behind the others. Of course the best fun lies in winning this queer water race.

The sport continues for an hour or more, till it seems as though every one must be tired out. Then they draw the canoes up on the shore and lie about on the sand for story telling.

CHAPTER IX.