Chapter IV (1)

"Mamma," cried Ruth Hamilton, reining her horse beside her mother's porch one afternoon a year later, "George and I have been for a ride out to Wailupe and back, and as we came near the Palolo Valley road on our way home, we saw a funeral procession coming down. It passed the corner just as we reached it, and, what do you think! On the _top of the coffin was a silk hat_, and George declares it's the same one Papa gave that old man that came here one morning a good while ago!"

Even so, according to the customs which still obtain in many lands, and which have been handed down through the centuries, of burying one's choicest possessions with the body of the deceased, Kalani and his silk hat were not parted in the grave.

EMMA L. DILLINGHAM.

A Legend of Haleakala

We stood shivering on the brink. At our very feet was the crater of Haleakala, the House of the sun, but that luminary had gone to his other realms and left his dwelling dark, unfathomable and void. No voice of nature was there, no murmuring breeze, no note of bird, no spirit of man or of God moved in those lone and abysmal depths. Only the brilliant stars kept watch above, and they were immeasurable miles away.

We, who stood there in the cool morning air did not add in any way to the majesty of the scene, wrapped as we were in blankets--red, white and gray.

"Like lost spirits waiting for waftage to the other shore," remarked the tourist.

"I am sure I have lost my spirits," said a shivering unfortunate, "I think the guide stole them."

"It seems to me we look more like a group of savage Apaches on a bleak mountain summit sketched by Remington," suggested the artist of the crowd.

"Ah, there she blows," cried the first speaker pointing toward the east where a shaft of light had just shot from the dark sea through the gray clouds. We all turned and looked except the newly married couple. They gazed into each others eyes as was their custom.

"I am so cold, dearest," she murmured.

I supposed he furnished her with a share of his red blanket though I was not watching.

"Ladies and gentlemen," said the humorist, "the grand cyclorama of sunrise on Haleakala is about to open, and as a preliminary, I move to throw the poet over the brink as a propitiatory sacrifice to the God of the Sun, who appears to be shocked by our appearance; and besides the poet will attempt to describe this scene and he can't."

"Describe nothing," retorted the poet, "my teeth are chattering so my tongue can't." "Let's throw the guide over, that will propitiate us anyway."

But William, the guide, looked so calm and peaceful as he sat with his back against a rock smoking a short black pipe, that we decided not to disturb him.

Meanwhile the sun rose. He has done this so often that it has become a matter of course with him. But rarely has he risen surrounded with such pomp of circumstance and kingly glory. It might well have been his coronation morning, with clouds of heavy gorgeousness upon his shining shoulders, and the quick heralds of light sent to glorify the distant mountain heights and to awaken the dark and slumbering sea. We seemed to be moving in worlds unrealized as the light swept across the reach of clouds at our feet, broken as a sea of tumbled ice, while around the outer rim rose forms strange or fantastic, the clouds shaping themselves into huge animals or rounding into noble palaces or turning into lofty pinnacles, and on every one the sun had set a crown of flame. The light with glowing hands pulled slowly back the shadows from the crater until it stood clearly revealed in its silence and vastness. From West Maui to Molokai stretched a heavy causeway of cloud beneath which lay the sea dark and glowing like polished porphyry. The sun was above the cloud and the common light of day lay round us.

"Tis past, the visionary splendor fades," remarked the poet, but the remark was not original with him.

Our party now adjourned to the stone house on the summit known as Cruyealece and after drinking some hot coffee and warming ourselves around the open fire, the humorist and myself testified to our intention of taking William and walking down into the crater. They all said that we were decided idiots, and they would take their exercise out in watching us. The newly married couple said nothing, but looked as I have stated.

"I think that haole can't go down," remarked William, pointing to the humorist. "His legs too thin, they break."

We all laughed except the humorist who could not see the joke.

"Break! you fat rascal," he exclaimed, "before I am done with you, you won't be anything but an animated brown shadow."

With sarcastic comments which did not disturb our serenity and much waving of handkerchiefs we began the descent. We went down at a very rapid gait, the loose dirt smoking at our heels and the canteen thumping against William's fat sides. In a half hour we reached the floor of the crater and stopped to take breath. After William had lighted his pipe we went on our way. First across the black lava flows and broken aa. In the days of its storm and stress this had been the hot and glowing life-blood of the great volcano, but now it was cold, black and congealed. Beyond the flows we came to long stretches of volcanic sands and the lofty cones rose above us, so perfect in form that it seemed the slightest breath of air would disturb their symmetry. Their coloring was wonderful, velvety black, gray and red shading into one another. And through the vast silence the silvery notes of a bird floated down to us from the far battlements of the crater.

After a toilsome tramp we reached the other side where the trees come down the slope, and throwing ourselves down in the shade we looked across the burning plain and enjoyed the coolness by way of contrast as we smoked and took chance shots at stray goats coming down the ridge.

"Do you know any stories or legends connected with Haleakala, William?" I asked.

"Yes, I know one, my grandma always telling."

"That's right, William," said the humorist, "take down your harp from the weeping lauhala trees, and sing to us of the departed glories of your race."

"You see my grandma great old woman, she kahuna, live at Hana. I hear this story every since I was keiki. She says it comes down from some old poets."

And after gazing across the crater for a while William began in his native tongue:

"In former times from the distant Islands of the southern sea came a strange people to Hawaii. On their spears were the great sharks' teeth, and their tabu staffs were crowned with kapa black or white. They were great of stature and became the mois of Hawaii. Then followed a people from beyond the rising sun. Small and broad they were, and came in ships such as were never before seen in Hawaiian seas. But stranger than these peoples was an alien race which came from out the distant north from whence the great trees come floating down upon the rivers of the sea, and the tradewinds take their rise, which come to cool our valleys and the burning sea.

It was in the days when Hua, the impious king reigned in Hana, on the third day before the feast of Lono in the early morning when the fishermen were returning, six canoes came from out a mist that floated on the sea, and moved quickly in even line toward the curving beach. The night before the omens had portended some dire event. The sacrifices had risen from the blood stained lele and stalked beyond the heiau gate, while, from the heights of Haleakala, issued the groanings of the Thunder God. As the aliens strode upon the beach they were taller than our tallest chiefs. Their skins were red as Pele blood that beats within our heart, but their eyes were black as is that blood when it cools upon the mountain sides, yet from them shot fire as the lightning from the thunder clouds. Their heads were encircled by high feather leis which swept backwards almost to the ground. Feathers were they grey and white such as never grew upon the birds that fly within the forests or float upon the sea.

The King took the strangers to his royal hale and gave them food and drink. There was a woman with them, the wife of their great chief. She appeared like a prophetess, only young. Her skin was pale as the white sea foam. Her dark eyes seemed to gaze afar off, and her smile was like the flash of sun upon the sea. When Hua saw her he desired her for himself and his women became as nothing in his eyes. Therefore Hua urged the redmen to make their home near his hale and they should be aliis in the land though the priest Luahomoe, warned the king that their coming would cast a shadow on his life. But the strangers would not dwell with the king nor with his people, but made their home far up on the slope of Haleakala where the gray clouds ever hang and the white rain falls silently to the ground.

Sometimes when the feather hunters sought the mamo and the oo upon the mountains they would see a figure of one of these men standing on the highest mountain peak against the black clouds as though carved of stone, then, suddenly he would raise his arms towards the sky and a cry would come quick as a javlin piercing to the heart, or, they would hear a rustling in the ferns and see a shape like a red moo moving through the green, but whence it came or whither it went they could never tell.

It chanced that on a certain day their great chief came down to the plain and went to see the king who was stretched at ease in front of his hale on a kapa mat, while the trade winds waved the falling branches of the kou trees like green kahilis above his kingly head. The great chief stood and would not sit upon the matting brought by the attendant. Then the king made a sign to one of his retainers who in a short time, brought several maidens with flowers decking their dark hair, and ornaments of pearl and shells upon their ankles and their arms. They were the fairest in Hua's court. The King waved his hand toward where they stood and said:

"Take these, O chief, they are yours, but let the white queen dwell with me."

Then the great chief folded his arms and looked down at the king while Hua's guard gathered close around him, for there was evil in the great chief's eye, and the king was a very little man before him. Then he grunted 'Umph' and turning left the presence of the king and went quickly to his mountain home.

But Hua's heart was hot within his breast, so he vowed to take the great chief's life and bring the white queen to his royal hale. Forthwith he sent his lunapais into every valley and along the sea to summon the alii and their warriors, but a messenger came the following day from the great chief saying:

"I know your plotting and your heart O King. We will make an end of this matter. Place your kingdom against the possession of the white queen. Choose your mightiest warrior, and I will meet him. If I die, take the white queen, but if your warrior dies your people and your lands are mine, O King. But this one condition, I will choose the place where this combat is to be fought."

The crafty Hua thought within his heart, "I will accept this challenge, and if my champion fall my warriors will surround him and his men and slay them. Then the white queen shall not escape me." So he assented. The messenger then took the king and, pointing where the clouds were flowing through the Kaupo gap, he said: "In yonder hollow mountain fights the chief."

The king's heart was troubled then, but he dare not return upon his spoken word. Among the alii there was none so tall and powerful as the young Kuala. In all the sports of peace he was pre-eminent. While in war none would hurl the spear so swiftly, nor use the javlin with such skilled hands, and when he whirled the battle axe above his head none could see it for the speed. He was chosen champion by the King.

For many days the priests consulted the oracles within the enclosure of the sacred anu, but the omens puzzled them, and they said the Gods were not at peace among themselves.

It was on the evening before the day just as the sun sank into the sea, there came a cloud, blacker than the kapa for the dead, moving slowly above the sea, and the gray rain following as a veil behind it. The air around was very still. Then, suddenly the cloud turned to crimson and the mountain and the thousands on the beach were reddened as though by the glow from a great fire. All were frightened, but Kuala only laughed and said, "If it storms now it will be cooler on the morrow." The old priest shook his head and said, "My son, that mountain height will be plenty cool enough for thee."

Late in the afternoon of the destined day the hosts of Maui were gathered in the arms of the great mountain. Foremost stood the King. Around his shoulders fell the yellow mamo cloak, and on his head a helmet yellow as his robe save its crest which was red with the feathers of the scarlet bird. Behind him stood the priests in feather cloaks red as the blood of their sacrifices, while in a half circle rose the hundred alii in cloaks mingled with the royal yellow and the priestly red. As the sunlight shone upon them they were in form and color as the rainbows bent over the valleys green, and on the rounded hills of sand above them stood the warriors thicker than the leaves upon the forest trees, and their thousand spears made the red hills black. A murmur ran amongst them as when the voice of the sea comes on the south wind and the sky is gray. The priests chanted in low tones, the meles of Kuala's race, and waved their arms as they sang of heroic deeds. Kuala stood quietly by the king and looked across the lava plain where, in the distance, could be seen the red men moving, one behind the other, in a line. They came swiftly. When they reached a hundred paces from where stood the king, they stopped and the white queen stood forth before them. Her color was no longer as the pale foam, for the blood beat quickly in her cheeks, and she breathed as though she had been running, while her eyes shone so that even Hua turned his glance away. The great chief stood near her but impassive as though carved of stone. Behind them the warriors stood lean and red with strange colors on their faces, and their heads were crowned with warlike feathers. They moved not, nor looked upon the warriors on the hills, regardless of them as though they were but crawling ants. Then the messenger of the chief advanced across the sand and stood before the king.

"O King, the chief is ready now to offer the victim chosen by you for the sacrifice."

Hua replied, "My champion is here at my right hand, and to-night we will wrap your chief in the funeral kapa, and the black sharks will dine upon his flesh." He would have spoken more but the messenger turned upon his heel and left the king.

Kuala threw aside his feathered cloak and advanced slowly towards the level sand. Then there rose a shout from the hosts upon the hill louder than the thunder of the great waves falling on the beach, and the priests chanted in loud tones beating wildly on their sacred drums. The great chief advanced to meet his foe but stopped, and with arms outstretched towards the sun gazed straight into its burning light while his voice reached to the remotest warrior on the hills, though none could understand the words, so strange they were. Then he turned and faced Kuala, who stood twenty paces distant. All was quiet as is the air before a coming storm. Kuala slowly raised his spear above his head and bending quickly forward sent it with such force that none could see it in the air, but the great chief was quicker than the spear and it went past him deep into the sand. His spear flew so close to Kuala that he felt the wind of its speed upon his cheek. The second time they raised their arms together and send the weapons whirling through the air. The warrior's spear struck some feathers from the great chief's head, whose weapon went straight to Kuala's heart, but before it touched his body Kuala caught it with his hands and turned its course aside, but staggered backwards with the force. Then the warriors cried in lamentation on the hills, but when they saw he was unhurt a shout arose louder than the first. The last spear Kuala poised above his head was of polished koa tipped with ivory, whose point had been dipped in Po's dark waters, carrying death upon its slightest touch. But it never reached the red chief's for the two spears met in the air with a great clash and fell broken on the sand. Then the warriors rushed towards each other and met midway on the sands, their javelins clashing as they met. Suddenly the light had faded while gray clouds covered the crater as with a roof, and the white rain began to fall thick and fast, lying like white stars on cloaks of the alii and of king. Kuala and the great chief could be dimly seen as they whirled around each other in the strife faster than sea birds on the wing. Now rushing together, now stepping quick aside, but Kuala's breathing could be heard by the king and his alii standing near; while the great chief moved quicker than the red lightning from the clouds, without a sound save when his javelin struck the warriors. But moving backward from Kuala's rush his heel struck upon a stone and he swayed slightly. Then the warrior's javelin tore his shoulder till the red blood came. With a cry that made the king and all his followers shiver as with cold, he sprang past Kuala's javelin and fastened his teeth within the flesh and his face was like a demon as he tore the warrior's throat, and Kuala fell slowly back upon the sand, writhing in quick death. Then the Hulumanu, standing by the King, threw his spear and pierced the great chief who fell face downward on the sand. From the hills the warriors came with a mighty rush as slides the land from the steep mountain sides, while the red men awaited their coming with faces lean and fierce. They stood as does a rock within the sea when the great waves surge upon it fall back in beaten foam until one mightier than the rest o'erwhelms it. So stood, so fell the red men on that day. Hua marked not the raging of the strife but through the tumult pushed his way toward where the white queen stood alone. She fled with exceeding swiftness, moving like a shadow through the falling mist. Hua, in furious anger, raised his spear and sent it straight towards her as she fled. Then the cloud grew thicker and closed around them. Instantly a great cry was heard and the King's people found him bleeding on the sand with his spear point centering in his breast. Whither the white queen went none ever knew. But sometimes the hunter, following his lonely trail through the great mountain, sees a woman's form wrapped in moving mist and with dark hair floating wildly around the pallor of her face."

"That's all," said the guide.

"That's quite a little lie, William," said the humorist.

"I don't know, the old lady says it is just so."

As we started on our homeward trail the clouds had rolled through the two gaps and an opaque mist lay around us. William headed the procession and we had gone about a quarter of a mile and were near the great cone when William stopped suddenly and grasped the humorist by the arm, almost white with terror.

"Look!" he said, pointing towards where the fog had lifted somewhat, and a current of air was whirling the mist, and, in the mist a woman's form and face could be clearly seen. I looked inquiringly at the humorist.

"Can such things be," he said, "and overcome us like a summer cloud, without our special wonders?"

"There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio," I suggested.

Then we went on in silence through the falling mist, but the humorist took the lead.

GEO. H. DE LA VERGNE.

Peleg Chapman's Sharks

Mr. Dole and I were standing in front of one of the caves which are found near the edges of the bay of Hanauma which is situated this side of Koko Head. We were there for several days of recreation. Mr. Dole was glad to get away from the Executive building, where his Ministers had caged various bees in their bonnets. These bees often wrangled with the bees in his own bonnet, and by temporarily separating them, the different bees ameliorated their buzzing, and a general rest prevailed. Mr. Dole said he preferred to take recreation with one who had outgrown the bee-hive age and the age of other annoying human devices.

"Do you see that flat stone?" I asked, pointing to one that lay under some lantana bushes, and was partially concealed by the sand and just beyond the reach of the surf.

"I see it," said Mr. Dole. "Do you think that some person with a bee in his bonnet has been around? Has the stone a story?"

"Well," I said, "that stone belonged to the foundation of a house which Peleg Chapman built away back in the 'thirties.'"

"Tell me the story," said Mr. Dole and he sat down on the grass, as if it were his Cabinet, and stretched his legs out towards the much sounding sea.

I then told him the story as I had obtained it from the most authentic sources, included in which were some scraps in Peleg Chapman's handwriting.

Peleg's father, Silas Chapman, was a poor but honest farmer who lived in Stockbridge, Massachusetts, near the State line. He had been eminently successful in achieving poverty, which he shared generously with his wife and sons. Though mentally dull in most matters, he possessed a rare gift for training animals of all kinds. He was a master of those inarticulate sounds, and musical notes which curiously convey ideas to animals. He talked with his dogs and cats, and made them useful. His trained squirrels brought him abundance of nuts, and his trained robins brought him cherries without injuring them. His cows, pigs, and chickens did curious tricks, and when gathered together in the barnyard, under his voice and eye, were more orderly than the General Assembly of the State. These useful animals did much to relieve the family poverty. The collie dogs stole watermelons and rolled them home, and the tame crows supplied the cattle with ripe corn from the neighbors' fields.

Peleg inherited from his father this singular gift of training animals, and he had listened to his luminous expositions of the subject.

"Peleg," he said, "all an'mals think. Ef you only larn how they think, you ken do anything with 'em. Each on 'em has a little different way of working his gumption, but you kinder sit along side 'on 'em, get to communin' with 'em in a slow fashion, and you'l find 'em ekal to human critters."

Peleg in due time became more skillful than his father, in training animals. He caught a young eagle over in Lenox, and trained him to relieve the family poverty by stealing chickens over in York State. The eagle was not morally very strong, and often brought home the tough roosters, after eating the tender chickens.

One day, when Peleg was away, the eagle being in a contrary mood, seized Silas Chapman's Sunday coat, and flying away with it dropped it into the Housatonic river. When Peleg reached home, his father told him that the eagle had done a mean job, and that he must pay for the stolen coat. Peleg refused on the ground that animals had no morals.

"Dad," he said, "you be livin' off them thievin' dogs and birds." Then said his father: "I guess Peleg you and me has got to have some interestin' conversation in the barn, this evenin'."

Peleg acted promptly on this suggestion. At four o'clock, with a small sum of money, he secretly went to the station, and boarded the Boston express. He left a note to his mother saying he was going off and his dad might lick the eagle if he caught him.

On reaching Boston, he wandered about until he reached the Frog pond in the Common. He had often heard that its waters were sacred in the eyes of every Bostonian. Feeling much depressed he took out of his pocket a copy of the Westminster Catechism, which every child studied in those days, and by accident glanced over the rough wood cuts of Biblical incidents. His eye fell on that of a very stiff looking whale, with a very stiff looking Jonah in front of it, waiting with a very resigned look to be swallowed.

While he was getting some comfort out of Jonah's resigned look, a sea-faring man took a seat by his side, on the public bench, and after glancing at the picture in Peleg's hand, remarked: "purty stiff lookin' whale I guess."

"Ever see'd one?" asked Peleg.

"Caught plenty on 'em," said the sailor. "Been around the Horn and up in the Artic for sperm and right whales. Plenty of lay money too. Down in Wyhee plenty of gals and bananas."

"Goin' again?" asked Peleg.

"Yes, next week," said the sailor.

"Take me?" asked Peleg.

"Guess you can ship on the Julian," said the sailor. "Fresh fo'cas'le hand gets one hundred and fortieth lay. That's his share of all the oil and bone the vessel takes in her cruise. Have good luck, plenty of money," said the sailor.

Peleg glanced at the stiff figure of the whale, closed the book, and said, "I'm goin'."

On reaching New Bedford, he shipped on the Julian, signed ship's articles, and went on board with a new kit. The vessel sailed for the Pacific and the Arctic ocean.

For a few days, Peleg would have been willing to return home and take the vicarious punishment for the eagle's sins rather than sleep in a fo'cas'le bunk. But the ship bowled along towards the equator, and the carefully expurgated yarns of the crew kindled his enthusiasm.

He caught and trained some sea gulls to fetch fish for the cabin and for'rad deck so that his shipmates, instead of calling him a blankety land lubber, took pains to teach him the art of handling ropes, and chewing old plug tobacco, and reading the sulphurous marine literature of the age.

The Julian took five hundred barrels of sperm oil off the island of Juan Fernandez, and finally dropped her anchor in the harbor of Honolulu, for the purpose of getting wood and water and fresh provisions.

On going ashore, Peleg was amazed at the abundance of bananas of which he was very fond, but for which the price at home was one shilling each. As he gorged himself, he began to think of exchanging his marine interest in the Pacific for a residence on the Islands. He felt justified in deserting, because the air of the forecastle was bad, and the captain had refused to reconstruct the vessel and place saloon cabins at the disposal of the crew. He obtained from Mellish & Co., ship chandlers, an advance of $300 on his lay, and deserted. He concealed himself at Waimanalo, until the vessel sailed for the Arctic, and then keeping out of the way of the native police or "kikos," he crossed over into Manoa valley and followed the coast line from Waikiki towards Koko Head. Finding the secluded bay of Hanauma he remained there. It was surrounded by a high ridge, as it was part of an extinct crater, and one side of it had fallen in towards the ocean, so that it was almost land locked, and the surf and heavy seas rushed through the narrow opening.

With the aid of a native, he laid a foundation of flat stones and built upon them a thatched house. The native brought him fruit and vegetables, and he caught an abundance of fish.

While the Julian was off the island of Juan Fernandez, Peleg had studied the numerous sharks found there. He discovered that the many rows of teeth in the mouth of the female shark were flexible, and rested on elastic gums. They could be laid flat, at the will of the shark. The reason for this curious arrangement was this. Whenever the young sharks are in danger, the mother shark opens her mouth, lays down her teeth, and the young sharks pass over without danger, into a pouch in her body where they remain until the danger is over. He had counted as many as seventy, each of them about three feet long, at one time diving into their mother's mouth, and emerging after the danger was over. He remembered that Prof. Aggasiz or some noted naturalist, had suggested that in some remote period a female kangaroo had tumbled overboard from some prehistoric canoe, and, according to Mr. Darwin, had adapted itself to the new environment, and become a shark. The pouch for the young which appears on the outside in the case of the kangaroo, appears as a pouch on the inside of the shark.

Peleg learned from the natives that at times fish were very scare in the Honolulu market. During the visits of the whaling fleets which often numbered over a hundred vessels, the demand could not be supplied with any regularity. When there was bad weather, the canoes could not put out to sea, and there was a fish famine excepting so far as it could be supplied from the local fish ponds that were entirely owned by the chiefs and King.

Besides there were some rare fish which the chiefs were especially fond of which were found only in deep water and could only be obtained under the most favorable circumstances of tide and weather. Such were the Kawele-a, the Ahi, the Ono and the Omaka. The Ahi was a very delicate fish and was found only off the coast of Hawaii, and was seldom seen in Honolulu markets.

Peleg said to himself: "Why not train sharks to catch fish? It may be as dad said, some bother to find out their way of thinkin' and they live in the water. But they has eyes and ears, and they hasn't got them things for nothing."

He caught, with the aid of some natives, an immense female shark, and before the young ones could hide, he captured them all, and put them in a pond he built up in the water. He began to educate them. At first they were quite vicious, and refused to be cheerful. But Peleg knew that from the crab to the seraphim, the appeal to the appetite was most effective. After repeated experiments, he found that sharks had a most extraordinary fondness for salt pork. There was a monotony of freshness in their ordinary diet, excepting as a sailor with a rich tobacco flavor, fell in their way once in a while. He also discovered that the addition of beans to the pork made the food especially attractive, and the young sharks quickly submitted to discipline with this reward before them.

He saw that they thought in their crude way, just as dogs and birds thought, and their hearing was like that of other animals. By tapping stones under water he could call them, but he generally used a speaking tube which he thrust into the water. By using rags of different colors, he trained them to distinguish between colors. He taught them to fetch and carry sticks, and then pieces of meat. As they grew older, he trained them to search for fish in the bay, and to bring them in without injuring them as they took them in or cast them out of their pouches. Pork and beans were liberally used as rewards. He was finally successful in teaching them to distinguish between the grades of fish and as it were, take orders for special kinds and leave the rest. The most intelligent learned to travel long distances, even to Maui and Hawaii, and find the feeding grounds of the rare fish of which he kept samples in a pond, and exhibited to them whenever he desired a supply of that variety.

He never permitted the natives to watch him while in his training school. He gave names to the expert and reliable sharks. His reading was limited so that he selected names from the Bible and from the names of the towns near his home. He called them "Lenox belle," "Barrington belle," "Pittsfield belle," "Lee belle," "Bashbish belle," "Stockbridge belle," and many other Berkshire names were used. The Scriptural names were "Queen of Sheba," "Jezabel," "Mehita-bel" and "Assyrian girl," with other such names. The word "belle" appealed to his poetic instinct.

He graduated the sharks after two years of training, and then opened business. He purchased a canoe, and paddled out to sea, followed by more than twenty submissive fish. He sent them off singly or by battalion, as he called it. In the battalion form, they moved out on an extended line and drove the fish desired towards the caves and small inlets, where they were easily caught, taken into the pouches, and brought to Peleg's canoe, and pork and beans were liberally served out in return.

On the arrival of the next whaling fleet, Peleg entered Honolulu harbor every morning with a large load of mullet in his canoe or with other excellent fish. After disposing of them to the whalers, he put out of the harbor at once, and joined his "sea hounds" as he called them, who waited for him outside the reef. His enormous catches attracted the attention of the natives, who once followed him in the hope of finding his rich fishing grounds. They were especially surprised at his large catch during stormy weather, when they could not go out in their canoes. Nor, by watching Hanauma bay could they get any information, as there were no nets there, and the sharks attracted no attention.

On one occasion as he was paddling along the Waikiki shore after selling his load of fish, he met a fleet of native canoes that had no luck. Taking compassion on them, he dipped his tube under water, gave the sign for mullet to his sea dogs, shipped his paddle, and lit his pipe. In an hour the noses of his hunters rubbed against the side of the canoe, and leaning over, he pulled out of their mouths more than six hundred pounds of mullet, and threw them into the canoes of the natives. The natives were stricken with terror at the sight, and dropped their paddles with the exclamation: "He is a kahuna (sorcerer) of the shark god."

He was soon regarded as an akua (god). No natives dared to enter the bay of Hanauma.

At the end of each whaling season he accumulated considerable sums in gold, a part of which he hid and a part he invested in the purchase of shares in whalers. After the season, he engaged in fishing for the rare fish only, which he supplied to the King and chiefs. Whenever the King said: "Peleg, my friend, I want some of the Ahi," Peleg sent four of his leading sharks to the Kona coast, and they returned within ten hours, with an abundance.

The King sent for him one day and said to him: "You are the most valuable man in my kingdom, and as my predecessors rewarded Isaac Davis and John Young with matrimonial alliances, I would be glad to have you look around and if you see any attractive female of the royal connection that you would like to marry, you may take her until otherwise ordered. I wish for useful men about my throne. I put on no airs, excepting a white cotton shirt. If you accept my offer you are authorized to wear an Admiral's cocked hat, and new boots on State occasion." Peleg replied that he recognized the honor, but that his heart belonged to his sharks and to the daughter of a carpenter who lived near the York State line, and he expected to visit her very soon.

A fanatical native attempted to "anaana" him or pray him to death. He gathered grass and burned it. The oily kukui nuts were thrown on the fire, and the whole resources of the Polynesian Black Art were brought into use. But Peleg lived.

A missionary, hearing of his remarkable powers, visited him and inquired about his ancestors, and among other questions asked him if he had become a heathen and allowed himself to become a kahuna or sorcerer. He replied that he did not hanker after heathenism, but, he said, that if he was in the missionary business he would open a conjuring saloon and beat all their old kahunas at sleight of hand tricks, and that would soon bring the whole crowd over to his side. The heathen, he said, couldn't do much thinking but if they saw him pull a rabbit out of his nose, or take a taro out of a man's ear, they would smash the business of their own conjuring priests. Seein' was believin'. Conjuring tricks would finally bust up their superstitions. The missionary said he and his associates could not look upon the matter in that way, but he would write to the American Board about it, and ask it to send out a respectable conjurer of high moral principle who would hitch a moral to the tail end of every trick, and then challenge a native sorcerer to do any better.

Peleg said that although he was a perverted Puritan, he would supply all of the Honolulu missionaries with fish without charge.

As he had received a very limited education owing to his father's flourishing poverty, he seldom wrote any letters. He did not forget his mother, however. She received from time to time, through Bunker & Co., of New Bedford, comfortable sums of money, with the statement that they came from her son, who was somewhere on the equator, and would come home after awhile. He also sent to Patsy McGloural, who had grown up and did the chores in the family of a rich paper manufacturer, a sandal wood box, and a dress of the finest Chinese silk, which he got from one of the vessels in the sandal wood trade. This dress was the finest in Berkshire county, and when Patsy put it on and went to church, it attracted the attention of the women, so that the preacher gave out the hymn about being "naked, poor and sinful."

Peleg had invested his money in shares in the whaleships, which made very profitable voyages, from Honolulu to the Arctic and Japan seas, and he became rich for a Berkshire man. After ten years of fishing he resolved to go home. He found a young man who came from the neighboring town of Hinsdale, on one of the new whalers, and after giving him a long trial, instructed him in the business. He consulted an attorney in Honolulu, and executed an instrument establishing the "Peleg Chapman Shark Trust," the income of which was to be used in feeding his faithful sharks with pork and beans, and in supplying the poor natives of Honolulu with fish.

He then sailed for New Bedford, and on arriving there, went directly home. He arrested the even course of his father's poverty, but did not inform his indigent but acute parent of the sources of his fortune. He built for his mother the finest chicken house in the county, and presented her with a neat buggy and a gentle horse. He soon married Patsy, and was known as Squire Chapman. As a leading authority on travel, he had no equal in those parts. Subsequently, with the aid of a young student from Williams College, he published in rather Sophomorical language, a book which had a wide circulation titled, "Chapman's researches in the islands of the Pacific."

'Twas Cupid's Dart

A Hawaiian Love Story.

Many years ago there lived in Hoikaopuiaawalau, in Hamakua, on Maui, a Hawaiian maiden whose story I will tell as I heard it from one who knew it too well.

"Her name, which they said was given her by her _kupuna_, Hikiau, who was a favorite chief under Kamehameha the great, was Kalaninuiahilapalapa, but we always called her Lani.

At the time we first met her she was about eleven years of age, very pretty, with regular features and long, black, silky hair. Like many of the natives she had beautiful gazelle-eyes, such as one never tires of gazing into. Probably those eyes cost her most of her--well we will tell it.

She lived with her parents in that beautiful little fern-clad valley, known today as Awalau, where her father worked in a sawmill. He was a very large and powerful man and as good natured as large men usually are.

His name was Kapohakunuipalahalaha, but as that was unnecessarily long, we shortened it to Nui, and a faithful man Nui was at any kind of work. Those who know what sawmill work is know that great strength is appreciated, especially when you are depending on a man to keep his end of a cant-hook up to time. He was as hospitable as the natives have the reputation of being, and that is saying a good deal.

Lani's mother, Kamaka, was a sprightly woman of about thirty-five and did her part to make "life in the woods" pleasant. Neither mother nor daughter appeared to have many household cares and seemed to take delight in wandering up and down the valley in quest of land shrimps, which they caught in a cornucopia-shaped basket made of wicker work. These, with the little black fish named oopu which they found adhering to the stones in the brook, and a fern frond called pohole, together with poi, the Hawaiian staff of life, constituted the principal part of their diet. They were also very fond of pig and chicken and never begrudged the labor or time spent in getting up a luau. From them we had an insight into the Hawaiian mode of living and were surprised to note to what an extent the natives are dependent on the sea for a livelihood. Sometimes Nui would take a day off, whether the master liked or not, and take his family to the beach, when they employed themselves in fishing. They would return with the greatest assortment of shell-fish and fish of many sizes of the most varied colors. Also they would bring limu of several kinds and odors. Limu, you know, is seaweed, and there appear to be as many varieties of it as there are of ferns on the land. There is also a variety of it found in the streams adhering to the rocks on the bottom, which we were always taught to beware of at home, but which the natives eat with cooked meats with great gusto.

They always kept a store of kukui nuts, which they roasted; then breaking up the kernels fine and mixed with salt, they ate it as a relish.

The women took delight in adorning themselves with leis, made either of the maile, which grew in profusion on the steep sides of the ravines, or of the _palapalai_, a luxuriant fern which clothes the valleys as with a garment. Sometimes they would make leis of the fruit of the hala tree, the _pandanus_, which was also very plentiful in that part of the island. Sometimes they would inter-twine the bright hala fruit and the fragrant glossy leaves of the maile, which made a very beautiful lei, especially on an olive skin as a background.

Often we were called in to eat with them and learned to like almost all their native dishes. It was always the custom to call in any stranger passing, to share their food with them. Their style of cooking, viz: under ground, or in a saucepan over an open fire, seemed to give the food a piquancy which had charms for us.

Lani had a very sweet voice and accompanied her singing with a guitar, which she played very sweetly and many an evening we passed about the campfire very comfortably. She could yodel like an inhabitant of the Swiss Alps and often we would hear her singing and yodeling as she came up the valley to cross up to the tableland where we were cutting the large koa trees, preparatory to hauling them to the mill to turn into the handsome lumber so much sought after for making fine furniture. There was not a man in the camp who was not charmed with her.

There was a little Chinaman who came up through our valley, leading pack horses, whose business was buying _pepeiao_, an ear-shaped fungus which is found very plentiful on the trunks of decayed trees on the windward sides of all the islands. The natives gathered and dried these and were always glad to see the Chinaman come around, as they were enabled to exchange them for either cash or the sweet cakes which he carried in his panniers. This fungus contains a good deal of gelatinous matter and was formerly largely exported to China, where it is used for soup making. This poor little waif of a Celestial, named Leong Sing, fell in love with our Lani at first sight and the frequent occasions he took for wandering up our valley were not warranted by the inextensive trade which he found. He made the acquaintance of a Chinaman who had a camp in a neighboring valley, where he was making charcoal from the branches of the koa trees, which he purchased from us. He got to staying over night with his friend and would sometimes join our campfire of an evening and listen to Lani's singing. None of us suspected him of the effrontery of falling in love with our Lani or of expecting her to reciprocate his affection. While at work one day in the woods her father told us that the Chinaman had proposed and wanted to carry her off to Lahaina, where his uncle had a large store. This was a greater temptation to Lani than we suspected, as she was very fond of good clothes and the Chinese are noted for taking the best of care of their wives in that respect. Also was not Lahaina the capital, where young people were numerous and where her accomplishments would be appreciated?

Her father had higher aspirations for his daughter and wished that she might marry a haole.

There was a young man in camp, named Frank Willoughby, (evidently a purser's name) who had come round the Horn in a whaler and had decamped as soon as the vessel touched at Honolulu, as many of our best and worst men did. Frank had a good education and was a very fine looking, healthy young fellow of a most amiable disposition. When Frank heard of the Chinaman's proposal he said he would kill the saffron-colored Celestial on sight and break every bone in his body for his presumption. Then we knew that Frank was badly smitten.

But he was not the only one who was struck bad, as there was a young half Hawaiian-Portuguese named Joe Edwards who was also very denunciatory of the Chinaman and expressed a wish for his speedy demise. Some of us had noticed that Frank was jealous of Joe, as the latter could play the ukeke or Hawaiian Jew's harp, very well, and as a stranger cannot tell what the player is singing on the instrument to his _dulcinea_, Frank could not understand how far Joe had got along in his courtship.

There was another party who was heels over head in love with Lani and this was so utterly unexpected that when the _denouement_ took place, "you might knock us all down with a feather." This was a big hulk of a black Portuguese named Shenandoah, from his having been captured on a whaler by that Confederate pirate when on her marauding excursion amongst the whalers in the Arctic, from whence he was returned to Honolulu with many others. He was a most repulsive, villainous-looking scoundrel, with black warts on his face; an Iago who could never capture our Desdemona and consequently never came into our calculations.

Anyway the Chinaman's name was "mud" from that time on.

Frank could not talk much native and Lani's English education had been sadly neglected, but it would not be the first instance where love was made with the eyes and not the tongue.

The work in the woods, felling those mammoth koas and hauling them with cattle to the mill, was looked on more as play than work, but we were very tired at night just the same. The _ieie_, an almost impenetrable climbing vine, seemed to take delight in wrapping its rootlets around those koas, to the vexation of the woodsman, and it would sometimes take hours to get at the trunk of a tree. In chopping this ieie the axe would sometimes fly back to the peril of the chopper. Once Frank had the bad or good luck to get cut in the head with his axe and as he bled very freely we were much alarmed and took him down to the camp. Kamaka put a bandage of some native herbs about his head and he remained at home for two or three days. How far his courtship progressed during his convalescence we were never able to learn. Joe said he wished he himself could get his foot cut off or something that he might be invalided.

Sometime after this the boss told us we could all go down to Wailuku for a holiday and spend the Fourth of July, which was going to be grandly celebrated that year on account of some favorable news from home, provided we would take a load of koa lumber down. Horses were not very plentiful with us and we were to ride on the load. As Nui and Shenandoah were to drive the six yoke of oxen and Lani and her mother were to ride we jumped at the opportunity.

The cattle were brought in from the woods, after a tedious search for them, for a bullock can hide himself easier under the parasitic vines and convolvulus which hang from those mammoth koas than anywhere under the sun. The wagon being loaded and the load bound on with chains we eight took our places for an eighteen-mile ride. Lani had provided leis for each of us and she and her mother had collected an immensity of ferns and ki leaves for a cushion to make the soft side of the boards softer, and we had a large hamper of lunch and a merrier party never started for an ox-cart ride.

We got away about 5 a. m., Nui and Shenandoah walking on either side of the team and there never was more fun in a basket of monkeys than on that wagon. He had our old standbys, Nigger and Puakea on the tongue and the young cattle ahead and the trouble these cattle caused, "I couldn't be telling." They would dash ahead and fetch up, then they would turn on their tracks and get tangled in the chains, then after a lot of bad language they would get straightened out and make another break, and this was repeated _ad nauseam_.