The reason why Tolta missed entrapping Juan at the same time with Beatriz, was this. Early on that very morning he had set out with Kiana to hunt wild boars in a forest in the district, now known as Puna, but which at that date was about equally divided between the territories of Kiana and Pohaku. It would be impossible for the traveller of the present day to recognize the localities of the events of this chapter, on account of the repeated changes in the features of the country, occasioned by the successive eruptions of Kilauea since that period. Even the coast line has been greatly extended and altered. When the Spaniards first arrived at Hawaii, the volcano had for a long period been quiet in this direction. Consequently, the country had become overgrown with vegetation, which mantling the abrupt mountain spurs, and numerous lava raised hills, and wide extended plains gave it a highly picturesque appearance. Cultivation was spread over its surface but very slightly. In general, it was a fertile wilderness, sparsely peopled, but prolific with the game of the country. On this account it was much frequented by the sporting warriors of both the chieftains, whose followers, in pursuing the chase, not unseldom met in deadly conflict. There was, therefore, a double risk to the adventurer in exploring its wilds. In escaping the tusks of an infuriated animal, he might fall upon the spear of an ambushed foe.

The very dangers of this territory were the origin of its most redeeming feature. Abounding in wild forests, it naturally became a refuge to the escaped slave, or oppressed tenant, and even the fugitive from justice, who without the intervention of an institution, which I will now describe, would, from their common perils, have banded together, and made themselves formidable as robbers or assassins.

I refer to the Pahonua, or to adopt the phraseology of the Israelities, in a kindred institution, the ‘city of refuge.’ The analogy between the two is very striking. With both, it was a necessity as a check upon the prevalent laws of retaliation, the barbarous character of their warfare, and their system of justice, so liable to perversion from the caprices or tyranny of their rulers. It affords also consoling evidence of the disposition of mankind, even in the least improved condition, to correct evil. It is true, that like the sanctuaries of the Roman Catholic Church, they were liable to abuse, and were available to the criminal, as well as the innocent, but in a rude society, they afforded a wholesome check upon revenge, whether private, or under judicial forms, and served in a considerable degree to mitigate the otherwise unendurable ferocity of war.

A river, having its source in Mauna Kea, flowed through this region. It was a rapid, impetuous stream, much broken by rocks and whirlpools, and fed by numerous cascades and torrents from the neighboring hills. As it rained a great deal in this vicinity, it was generally swollen. Near the sea the river forced its way between precipitous banks, with much roaring and many abrupt leaps, at times quieted by the depth of its waters, as it reached some rocky dell, and at others spreading out into a quick, broad current, until it finally expanded itself into the sea, amid the thundering of breakers, over a treacherous bottom of moving sands. Only in the calmest weather could canoes venture to cross its bar. There were a few spots where sufficient land had been gained from the river, higher up the valley by dykings, so as to repay careful cultivation with rich crops. Here the banana and taro grew most luxuriantly, ripened into a luscious flavor by the sun’s rays, caught and retained between the steep, verdure-clad banks. Dams were partly thrown across the river in several places near its mouth, diverting portions of it into artificial ponds, well stocked with fish, particularly the delicious mullet, which being reared in brackish water, acquired a flavor and fatness unknown to the species bred elsewhere.

Besides these signs, there were many others of peace and abundance in the immediate vicinity. They were due to the presence of a spacious Pahonua built of stone, situated upon the river’s left bank, which there formed an easy precipice, affording a pleasing contrast to the lofty and jetting crag opposite. The juncture of the fresh water with the salt tide of the ocean, took place almost under the walls of the city of refuge, occasioning eddies, admitting of a ford, though at no time safe, because of quicksands.

The tutelar deity of this Pahonua was Keave, now worshipped, or more properly speaking, sainted; for the formula of the Roman Catholic Church is in this respect as applicable to the paganism of Hawaii, as to its own more enlightened ritual. Keave was simply the benevolent founder of this particular institution, the building of which was, considering its purpose, solidity and extent, as creditable to his sanctity and enterprise, as have been any of the numerous monasteries of the papal church, to their canonized founders. Canonization is indeed but another form of heathen deification. The creation of this Pahonua, the natives being destitute of machinery for raising large masses of stone, was in truth a prodigious feat. In its walls were blocks weighing upwards of two tons, elevated six feet or more above the ground. Around it were the sacred images, usually placed upon such structures. Within, there were several pyramidal temples, besides a sufficient number of houses for the people likely to take refuge therein. The limits of the sanctuary extended to a certain distance outside the walls, marked by white flags, while its charge devolved upon a class of priests,—monks they might aptly be called, if we set aside the vow of chastity—who with their servants were permitted to slay any one that transgressed their privileges. Like themselves, their property was sacred, which accounts for the oasis they had created amid the otherwise forbidding scenery and its pertinent perils. Whoever once got safely within their precincts, became inviolable. This personal security extended to a certain time after the refugee had returned to his home, as the protecting spirit was supposed to still abide with him, though guilty of the foulest crimes, or even of violating the most solemn tabus. Before a fight, the women and children of both the belligerents, assembled in the Pahonua for security. After the battle was won, the vanquished also fled to it to secure that mercy which the conqueror rarely granted. All made offerings to the deified founder, as does the Roman Catholic to his patron saint, in gratitude for favors vouchsafed.

Olmedo and his party arrived soon after sunrise, without interruption, at the base of a sharp mountain ridge, which intervened between the river and the more level ground over which they had passed. It was not lofty, but, owing to its dense vegetation, extremely difficult to scale, except at one point where the natives had, by frequent traversing, worn a rude passage. Path it could not be called, for the jungle was so thick, and the branches of the trees so interlocked, that it offered much of the way a series of climbing and leaps, more suited to the habits of a monkey than a human being. There were other points of access to the river, but Umi had selected this as much the shortest, though it involved greater fatigue. For a considerable distance the party was obliged to go in Indian file up a rapid ascent, which formed the backbone of the spur, and was so narrow, that to unpractised feet it was safer to sit upon it, as on a saddle, and to hitch themselves along by the help afforded by the coarse grasses and ferns. On either side was a steep precipice, covered with a slippery coating of rank verdure. Before arriving at the summit the path became so obstructed with trees of a large growth, imbedded in a tangled network of shrubs and vines, that the utmost caution was required to prevent the weaker members of the party from becoming inextricably involved therein. Often they were obliged to find a foothold on branches elevated twenty feet and even more, from the soil, and clinging to the limbs above them, slowly work their way through the vegetable barrier. The sun’s rays never penetrated the leafy canopy overhead, though to the almost constant rains they were a slight obstacle. These had caused a luxuriant growth of mosses which encircled every limb, making them appear double their real size, and frequently hiding their decay. In grasping the seemingly stout branch it would prove to be a flexible twig or a rotten stick, and giving way, precipitate the climber into beds of oozy vegetation, which, sponge-like, not only showered their chilling contents upon the wayfarers at every step, but, from their slimy coating, rendered both foothold and grasp very uncertain. Nothing short of the previous rough experiences of Beatriz, in the wild campaigns of Mexico, could have prepared her for an effort like the one she was now making. Her companions were indefatigable in their exertions to aid her. After two hours of excessive labor they had the satisfaction to stand upon the summit, and look down upon the river which separated them from the territories of Kiana.

“Look,” said Umi, “our toils are almost at an end. There is the Pahonua, and the priests will give us food and rest while we send for Kiana.”

“But what comes there?” exclaimed Olmedo, pointing to some objects moving along the narrow ridge they had just traversed, and which were hardly perceptible from their point of view.

All looked anxiously to the spot indicated, and were not long in perceiving Tolta, followed by several score of warriors, rapidly advancing towards them. At the same instant the Mexican caught sight of them, and they saw him pointing their party out to his followers, and urging them forward with impatient gestures. A wild shout of triumph broke from his men at the discovery, and they dashed forward in expectation of speedily seizing the fugitives. The difficulties of the ascent, however, so impeded their progress, as to give ample time to Umi to put into execution his plan of escape. Tolta had taken this difficult pass to the river, thinking to arrive on its banks in advance of those he pursued, and intercept them as they came by the longer but more easy route. He was therefore taken by surprise on discovering them ahead of him. His hope now lay solely in the greater speed of his men. With promises and threats he excited them to redoubled exertions, himself leading the way.

Fortunately for Beatriz and Olmedo, the descent towards the river was comparatively facile. Sending two of his men forward to aid the women, Umi with the others took post just at the crest of the mountain, where the path was so narrow that they could easily hold it against great odds. With their spears poised they awaited the onset of Tolta’s men.

While these incidents were in progress, Kiana and Juan, accompanied by a mixed train of not above one hundred men, warriors and servants included, were occupied in the chase. They were unaware of the abduction of the Spaniards and the subsequent events, having had no communication with their homes for several days. Indeed, although many of their people had missed their guests of late, as they were accustomed to their retirement at not unfrequent intervals, few besides their immediate attendants had manifested either curiosity or anxiety at their absence. But when three days had gone by without news of them, their retainers prepared to notify Kiana of the fact. Some had gone in pursuit of him on the very morning of the escape. But the hunters at early daylight had crossed the river at some distance above the Pahonua, and had been beating the forest at the foot of the mountain in pursuit of their game, with, however, but indifferent success. Wearied with their exertions, they were reposing in the shade of a grove about half way between its base and the river, when their attention was attracted by shouts proceeding apparently from the mountain. Soon several women were seen issuing from the forest, and running at full speed towards the river, followed by armed men, a few of whom, every now and then, faced about and stood on the defensive against others who were pursuing them. By this means the women made some progress, but evidently their strength was failing, and they must quickly be captured, especially as the foremost of their pursuers had overthrown his antagonist, and was gaining rapidly upon them.

It seems that Umi and his men had been unable to retard the progress of Tolta for a much shorter time than he anticipated. The followers of the Mexican had rushed fiercely upon them, and although beaten back, returned again and again to the charge, throwing their spears, and yelling frightfully to intimidate their foes. But Umi was too well practised in native warfare to be driven from his post by menaces, while he was sufficiently protected as to avoid much risk from the missiles of his assailants. Chafing at this delay, Tolta was himself preparing to close with Umi, when his quick eye caught sight of a vine overhanging the rock which effectually screened his enemy. With the spring of a wild cat he caught at it, and almost as quick as the thought had been formed, he had scrambled to the summit, whence he could look down upon Umi. Another leap would have brought him into his rear. Umi seeing this retreated, but, as he turned, dealt a quick blow to a careless assailant, which stretched him lifeless right in the way of his companions, who stumbled over him as they pursued him down the mountain. His men, taking somewhat different directions, followed, occasionally stopping to arrest the progress of their pursuers, that the women might have a chance to reach the river.

Kiana, surprised at this scene, called his men to stand by their arms, saying to Juan, “We must be on our guard. Pohaku, I suspect, is about to pay us the compliment of a visit. If so we shall find him fiercer game than we have yet seen this morning.”

Juan was too intently gazing upon the flying group to heed the remark. Suddenly he exclaimed, “That headmost warrior is Tolta. There is no mistaking his tiger spring. But what is the Mexican doing here? Jesus Maria! That robe belongs to no Hawaiian. By the holy saints it is our worthy priest. He must have strangely changed his nature to be marauding with that wily Aztec. But, no! the villain! he throws his javelin at him. There is foul work going on here. At them, Kiana, or they will slay the monk.” So saying, he rushed towards the assailant, calling upon Olmedo to turn towards him. Kiana and his men added their shouts to his, and ran quickly after him.

Their apparition seemed to paralyze both the pursuer and the pursued. With the latter, however, the hesitation was but brief. Recognizing her brother, Beatriz gave a cry of joyful surprise, and hastily bidding Liliha follow her, turned towards him. Juan knew her voice, though he could scarcely credit his senses on finding his sister in such a position. Both he and Kiana were immediately at her side. Overcome by her exertions, she fainted as she fell into Juan’s arms. Olmedo and the rest of the party were soon surrounded by the friendly warriors, eagerly inquiring the cause of their appearance and flight. Their story was told in a few words. A cry of vengeance upon the Mexican rose from every throat as his men called upon Kiana to lead them against the traitor.

Meantime Beatriz slowly came to. Both Juan and Kiana, in their anxiety for her, thought of nothing else, until she was able to confirm by her own lips the narrative of her faithful friends. Her weakness made her tale short, but the little she spoke, stopping at each broken sentence to gain strength, told much to her listeners. Olmedo was almost as feeble as she. Juan gave a look of grateful surprise at Liliha, as his sister, embracing her, presented her as her rescuer. His thanks were hearty and brief, but all other feeling was speedily lost in his desire to revenge the treachery towards Beatriz. Without stopping to count his foes, he sprang towards them, calling upon Tolta to prove himself a man by facing one.

Kiana was prompt to sustain him, but not before he had charged a portion of his retinue to escort the rescued party across the river, and place them in safety in the Pahonua, while he with the remainder would cover their passage. Less fiery than Juan, his first impulse was to see to their safety, then to look to their own, for he felt certain Tolta would not have undertaken an enterprise of so much danger, without being sustained by the whole power of Pohaku. That chief, therefore, he believed, would soon appear upon the field. As it was, Tolta had the superiority in numbers, and it would not be prudent to exhaust their strength before they knew what fresh dangers might be in store.

The Mexican, calling his men about him, determined to act solely on the defensive. It might have fared ill with Juan, had Tolta with his whole force made a rush upon him as he came towards them. Several of the most eager of his men did indeed sally from their ranks, to make a combined assault upon the white man. Their commander recalled them, but not before the foremost having struck at Juan with his mace a blow which he easily parried, was run through by his sword before he could recover his guard. This experience of the fatal skill and power of the weapon of the Spaniard made them more cautious, and they kept their ranks retreating slowly towards the rocky promontory directly facing the Pahonua. It was not far from this point that the road usually traversed from Kilauea, and leading to the somewhat dangerous ford before spoken of, joined the river. Tolta knew too much of Juan’s prowess to venture himself in combat with him, especially with inferior weapons. He noticed the fewness of Kiana’s men, and hoped before long Pohaku might join him, when their combined force would easily slay or capture their opponents.

Kiana and his men had now come up, and without making a direct assault were gradually pressing Tolta’s party back to the highest part of the precipice, which here overlooked the deepest waters of the river, though a little way below they became shallower as they approached the ford. Olmedo and his companions were already preparing to cross, having availed themselves of some canoes belonging to the priests of the Pahonua, which Kiana had borrowed early in the day for his own passage. The rising ground on which they now found themselves, gave Tolta’s men a decided advantage in resisting any attack. Their flank was protected by a dense thicket, which bordered the road that led from Kilauea, while the river effectually sheltered them on the right. Thus they were in a position either to retreat or to await a reinforcement. A messenger had been despatched by Tolta to Pohaku, as soon as he had made the discovery of the presence of Juan and Kiana. In the meantime he had determined to remain where he was. Should Kiana attempt to recross the river, he could sally down upon him at advantage.

Juan, irritated at Kiana’s prudence, demanded that they should attack Tolta at once, and drive his men into the river. But that chief would not waver from his surer policy, for he had also sent to summon his warriors to join him. By keeping his foes in their present situation, they would, before long, be enabled to assault them, certain of success; whereas now, a defeat or even a repulse would endanger the lives of those they had just rescued. Until Beatriz and Olmedo were within the Pahonua, it would be risking too much. Juan acquiesced in these measures, but swore he would not lose sight of Tolta while he lived.

Pohaku, as we know, had pursued Tolta, deceived by the report of Hewahewa. But few of his warriors had been able to keep up with him. The messenger that Tolta had sent, and who might have explained their position, had missed him. The enraged chief came in sight on the main road, soon after the hostile parties had assumed their present positions. Perceiving Kiana and his warriors, he was still more confirmed in his belief of Tolta’s treachery; believing that he had fled to rejoin that chief and surprise him. Without stopping to parley or to ascertain the truth, he roared out to Tolta’s men to make way, and sprang forward with a ferocious look towards the Mexican. The warriors, surprised and confused, for they had supposed he had come to their assistance, parted before him like water before a strong swimmer. Straight on towards Tolta he came foaming and cursing, and bidding him await his fate. The Mexican, at a loss to account for his sudden hate, supposed him gone mad and ordered his men to seize him, but they would have sooner, unarmed, crossed the tusks of the fiercest wild boar of the mountains, than have now put themselves in his path. With his spear poised, he stopped a few feet from Tolta, glaring upon him with blood-shot eyes. In another second he would have driven it clean through him, but Tolta’s instinct of life was quicker than even his rage. Seeing his hopeless position, he sprang aside and the spear glanced on the turf, tearing up the ground, and finally burying itself deep into it, remained with its haft quivering in the air. Pohaku, uttering a fearful howl of disappointed rage, ran towards him, intending to seize him with his naked arms, and to twist his spine. The Mexican, whose movements were quick and subtle, again dodged him, and sprang upon the cliff. As Pohaku rushed after, he aimed a stroke at him with his dagger, which would have reached his heart had it not struck upon an ivory ornament, which he wore upon his breast. The steel broke, and Tolta was left defenceless. The river was now his only chance. A precipice ninety feet high lay between him and it. With one bound he cleared its edge. So sudden was this movement and so desperate the leap, that all for the moment supposed him dashed to pieces on the rocks beneath. Striking the water, however, with his feet pointed like a wedge, and his arms clinging to his sides, he disappeared, but soon rose and struck out towards the Pahonua. The rapid current bore him towards the shallower waters. Here his feet touching the sand, he was obliged to walk now and then, sinking as the water deepened and compelled him again to swim. Suddenly he was seen to throw his arms wildly in the air, and to shriek for help to the priests who were watching him from the walls of the Pahonua. They ran hastily towards the water’s edge to rescue him, but perceiving his position they dared not trust themselves on the treacherous sands. His exertions to reach them were desperate, but every struggle sank him deeper. He had touched a quicksand, and its vortex was slowly sucking him down. Inch by inch he disappeared, each moment to him an eternity. His entire life of baffled ambition and revenge, with all the deeds of horror he had witnessed or participated in; all the better desires he had cherished and affections he had indulged; all of his dark and troublous career became legible in letters of fire to his quickened memory, and mingling with an obscure and despairing future, the terrible mythology of his earliest belief conflicting with the hated creed of the Spaniard, harrowed his soul. Fiercely he struggled for a while with his fate. The water became discolored by the sand his frantic exertions to release himself stirred up. But nothing could now save him. Conscious of this he became more quiet. As the waters covered his face its latest look was towards a group of females just landing at no great distance above him. One among them had seen the leap and after struggle. Shuddering she covered her head with her mantle, and was then praying for the soul of her enemy, whose hands, even after his head had sunk out of sight, were seen for an instant turned imploringly towards her.

This sight sobered even the rage of Pohaku, and arrested the attention of all. No sooner, however, was it over, than Juan, unable longer to restrain himself, called upon Kiana to avail himself of the confusion of their enemy and attack him. Setting the example, he sprung among them dealing fatal wounds at every stroke. Kiana and his men seconded him well, and the melÉe, it could scarcely be called battle, soon became general and bloody. Pohaku, who had regained his arms, rallied his men and fought with courage, but in skill he was not a match for his assailants, whose better discipline compensated for their inferior number. Three times, however, he foiled the desperate attack of the bravest of Kiana’s men, slaying several of them, and might at last have repulsed his foes had it not been for the impetuosity of Juan, who, calling to him to beware, closed upon the chief. Twice Pohaku succeeded in casting his javelin at him. The first blow he avoided by an active movement of his body, but the weapon whizzed so near as to bruise his left arm. The second javelin pierced his helmet, as he fortunately stumbled over a corpse, otherwise it would have brained him. Before he could recover himself, Pohaku had sprung forward with an uplifted war-club, which, with terrible force, was about descending on his head, when Kiana intercepted the blow by his mace. The warriors on both side sprang to the rescue of their chiefs, and in the rush Kiana’s men were borne back a few paces. He, however, held his ground, beating off his assailants, thus giving time to Juan to rise. “Leave this chief to me, he is my foe,” he cried to Kiana, and advancing once more upon him he easily parried his furious blows, and at every thrust drew blood, until watching a moment when Pohaku from sheer exhaustion struck less quickly and forcibly, Juan plunged his sword through his breast. His fall disheartened his men, and they began to recoil before the renewed efforts of their foes, when loud shouts were heard from the road, and soon after a regular body of warriors, outnumbering greatly all on both sides engaged in the present fray, marched upon the field.

It was Hewahewa with the warriors he had assembled after the hasty departure of Pohaku, whose soldiers recognizing them, re-formed in their rear, and awaited the orders of the high-priest.

Kiana drew his men off from the pursuit and arrayed them into a wedge-shaped phalanx, with its rear towards the stream. Juan and himself occupied the welau, or point which must receive the brunt of the onset, should an attack be made. On the other side of the river his followers who had escorted Beatriz over, seeing his danger, came back with the canoes and joined him. Thus he had it in his power to retreat, presenting the while a formidable front to his enemy.

Hewahewa, having learned the state of affairs, was not desirous of pushing him to extremity. His own immediate rivals, Tolta and Pohaku, were dead,—no small gain to him,—but his daughter was virtually in the power of Kiana. He was therefore disposed to terms. Sending a herald bearing a branch of the ti plant used as a flag of truce, he proposed a parley. To this Kiana assented, and it was finally agreed that Kiana should return to his own territories unmolested, Liliha remaining as a hostage, until he was on equal terms with his antagonist, after which they would treat for a general peace. Upon those terms, Kiana withdrew to his own side, while Hewahewa encamped where he was.