EIGHT hundred and nineteen men, armed and provisioned, were on hand at daybreak the next morning. Aelani made a stirring speech, telling them that Ii was dead, and that Aa was preparing to invade Kohala to slaughter all the men and give their wives and kuleanas to strangers. And Kaanaana told them of their new moi, rainbow-covered and heaven-born.

The spearmen raised a great shout and cried: “His word is as the word of Ku, and we will follow Kaanaana, our high-chief, where spears are thickest, even unto death!”

Hiwa accompanied them. When Kaanaana privately remonstrated, she replied: “Hardships and hunger and thirst are heaven with you, my lover, and so are wounds and death; but without you, all the world is hell to me. What mortal man can do and suffer, that surely can I, daughter of the gods. Moreover, if the chiefs do not see me, whom they know, they will say that Aelani, whom they do not know, is but an impostor. My love, I must go with you.”

So she went to the war, and was ever by Kaanaana’s side, save at meals, which their religion forbade. Although Ii was now dead, Kaanaana did not seek to be Hiwa’s husband, for he loved her too unselfishly to wish her to demean herself, being goddess-born, by marriage to a mortal. And she did not propose marriage to him, which would have been her place by custom, she being the higher of rank, because she would not involve him in the wrath of Ku. She counted the coming days of suffering and battle as precious—every moment, because they were spent with him, for she knew that as soon as they were over she must leave him and die on the altar of Ku.

Aelani marched with elastic steps at the head of his little army. He ate plain fish and poi like the meanest soldier, drank tepid but precious water as sparingly, and bore the withering midday heat of the lava-flows and the cold night winds of the mountains as if they were the eternal June of the lowlands. So also did Hiwa and Kaanaana, knowing that where leaders share all hardships cheerfully their followers do not lose heart.

On the evening of the second day they had crossed the mountains, and were within half a dozen miles of Waipio. They could not take the enemy entirely unawares, for those fleeing before them had carried the news. Nor were they in a condition to fight that night, for they were utterly exhausted. Nearly fifty had dropped of fatigue by the way, and three, falling over a precipice, had been dashed to pieces on the rocks a thousand feet below. The little army camped in a wood hard by and slept till morning.

Hiwa slept two hours. Then she awoke Kaanaana with a kiss and said: “I have wakened you, my love, that you might not awake later and miss me from your side. I am going to the enemy. Our scouts, as you know, report the gleam of spears on the heights of Kukuihaele. It is Kaaahu and his thousand men come to the help of Aa. Our men are outnumbered three to one, and so worn out they can hardly stand. Some of them are dying of fatigue, and some have already died.”

“And you, my love,” interrupted Kaanaana, “will also die unless you sleep this night.”

“No,” replied Hiwa, “I shall not die of fatigue, nor yet of spear-thrust from mortal man. I shall live until our son is unquestioned moi. A goddess gave me life, and only through a god shall it be taken from me. My fate is unalterable. It is in the hands of Ku. Pau! My love, you know that your spearmen, exhausted as they are, cannot fight two thousand men. They will be slaughtered like swine in to-morrow’s battle, and our cause will be lost unless I put fresh fear in the hearts of the enemy.”

Kaanaana made no further objection, knowing that her words were true, and that, unless she succeeded in her mission, they must all die together. When she had gone, although his heart was heavy on her account, he turned over and slept soundly that he might have strength for the morrow’s battle. So Hiwa went forth and descended the heights to the Waipio River, which, even at that distance from the sea, was then deep enough for swimming. The water and the change of motion greatly refreshed her bruised and bleeding feet and aching limbs. She passed the hostile sentinels, swimming noiselessly under water, and kept on down the river to the midst of Aa’s army.

Then Aa’s spearmen, sleeping on their arms, were awakened by a well-known voice proceeding from the water, and it said:—“Listen! The Spirit of Hiwa bids you save your lives. Why should you die? Behold, the rightful moi kane, Aelani, The Pledge from Heaven, The Chosen of the Gods, cometh to his own! Ku thundered at his birth, and the rainbow covered him; therefore none shall be able to stand before him. Yet he is just and merciful. He will slay those who are taken with arms in their hands, fighting against him. He will spare those who stand aloof. But Aa shall die a pig’s death, and his bones shall be put to shame.”

Then Hiwa swam down-stream under water so softly that not a splash was heard or a ripple seen, and an hour past midnight the same voice and words were heard on the heights of Kukuihaele.

At dawn Kaanaana awoke and looked upon Hiwa sleeping at his side. She was covered with blood, and great, ragged rents were torn in her flesh, for she had slipped and fallen while descending from the heights of Kukuihaele in the darkness of the night. Her eyes were sunken, her face was gaunt with toil and pain, and she slept like one dead. Kaanaana forbade all noise in that part of the camp, and made it silent as the grave, so that Hiwa might sleep until the men were ready to go forth to battle. Then he awoke her gently, and she arose and took her place beside him at the head of the warriors, armed as a warrior, and so she marched to the fight.