“How often events, by chance and unexpectedly come to pass, which you had not dared even to hope for.”—Terence. Night came and went; when morning broke, the same stillness rested on the valley. All of its guests still slept the deep sleep of fatigue, except Tolta, who had thought he heard at intervals distant sounds that fell mockingly upon his ear for a moment, and then died away into profound silence. Cautiously he had listened and peered into the deep shadows of hill and forest, but had detected nothing. As often, however, as he had sunk again into restless slumber, the same strange sounds came to him. The air seemed filled with them; voices and laughter, the tramp of feet and cries of animals, yet so vague and intermingled, that at last he fancied there was a spell upon the valley; that its inhabitants had all perished by demoniacal violence, and unseen by mortal eyes, during the night, came back to haunt their late homes.
This solution of the mystery was not calculated to reassure him, and he became more restless than before. Visions of his native land mingled themselves with the phantom forms and sounds which disturbed his slumbers. His imagination vibrated[65] between joy and fear, without a moment’s pause to give him rest. Gradually, however, as morning twilight came up over the hill tops, he fancied he detected shadowy outlines of men, sharp against the horizon, passing rapidly into the gloom further down. His terrors were then realized. He saw the ghosts that had so disturbed his slumbers fleeing before the coming day, and he shuddered as with a grave-chill.
A cock suddenly crowed afar off. Tolta started as if the trumpet of Cortez had sounded in his ears. His blood tingled once more in his veins. Another and another crow, nearer and nearer; the morning air is suddenly filled with their rival notes. A dog barks! Scores of dogs’ throats open in reply. Human voices are now distinctly heard. Groups of men, women, and children, can be plainly seen descending into the valley from the wooded uplands. He watches their motions, half doubting his own senses. A band orderly marching approaches the enclosure. He sees among them the sharp array of lances, and the brilliant colors of feathered casques and cloaks. They recall to him the warriors of Mexico, and he exults in their martial tread and warlike aspect. His first impulse is to rush forward and greet them. “Now shall Spanish blood again be shed, and their false hearts quiver on the altars of Mexico’s war-god! Here in this teocalli, shall the incense so sweet to Huitzilpotcli’s nostrils once more ascend;” and in his dreamy excitement he rushed forward as if to strike the serpent-skin drum, whose terrible signal had so[66] often been the death-warrant to his country’s invaders.
Shall Beatriz die this death? No sooner did she occur to him, than his fierceness passed away like a spent surge. All other emotions were lost in the desire to protect her. Stepping quietly inside the house, he woke Juan and motioned him to follow.
As they passed out and looked over the parapet, they saw considerable stir among the warriors. They were coming towards them at great speed, and evidently with no friendly intent. Their leader had caught sight of Tolta as he left the wall to awaken Juan, and indignant at what he supposed a violation of the tabu, by one of his people, ordered them to surround the enclosure, so as to prevent the possibility of escape, while he with a few followers ascended by the narrow stone steps, that he might slay the sacrilegious wretch with his own hand.
By the time Kiana—for it was he—had nearly reached the platform, Juan had arrived at the gate-way, and at a glance took in his whole position.
“Tonatiuh can now strike the infidel,” said Tolta with sarcastic emphasis, as he recalled Juan’s unwise speech of the day before, at the same time pointing to Kiana, whose rapid strides would in another instant bring him in front of Alvirez. The Mexican then re-entered the house to warn Beatriz of their new danger.
Juan had too often encountered as fearful odds,[67] in his Mexican campaigns, to lose his presence of mind in a crisis like this. He called to his men to come to his succor, as he prepared to hold the gate-way against his foes, and shouting his accustomed battle-cry, drew his long Toledo blade, and advanced it in guard to await Kiana’s onset.
This chief in his rush up the steps had not fairly lifted his eyes until the shout of “Santiago for Spain” reached his ears. His astonishment at the apparition of the white man,—the gleaming steel, fierce eyes, thick red beard and strange tongue, the costume so unlike his people’s,—instead of the expected tawny hue of his own race, brought him to a sudden stop. It was but for a moment, for, excited by his previous fury at a crime so uncommon among his people, he saw only an offender who seemed aided by sorcery, and rushed at him with uplifted javelin, reserving his force to strike and not to throw. So sudden and powerful was his spring, that although Juan’s sword parried the blow, he was borne backward, and Kiana found himself on the platform.
Both paused as they now better saw each other’s strength and strangeness. Kiana’s surprise was increased as Juan’s men, followed by Olmedo with crucifix in hand, came hastily up and ranged themselves at his side. His own soldiers were fast crowding upon the platform, filled with wonder rather than fear, at so unexpected a sight. At his command they were filing off to surround Juan’s little band, and close in upon them, while he upraised his javelin, prepared once more to tempt the[68] skill of his strange enemy. His right foot was advanced, his broad chest thrown out and weapon poised to try again the thrust, which had never before failed him, when a new cry was heard and a new figure came forward and sprung between him and Alvirez.
It was Beatriz. Her long flowing robes, dishevelled hair, her pallor and the impulsive energy with which she pushed aside Juan’s sword, and turned her eager eyes towards Kiana, fearlessly fronting his javelin, amazed the red-men. Their weapons dropped silently by their sides, as their chief gazed in astonishment with powerless arm upon the new apparition.
Kiana’s indecision was, however, only momentary. A sudden thought had seized him. Turning to his followers he said, “Behold Lono and his wife! they have returned with their faces brightened, and their speech changed, from their abode in the sun. They have come as Lono promised, with new teachers and good gifts. Let us honor them and make them welcome.” As he spoke every weapon was laid upon the earth, and every head was bowed. Kiana alone stood erect, asserting his dignity even in the presence of a returned god.
Whatever his native sense might have suggested in regard to the origin of the group before him, his sagacity in turning the ideas of his people into their present channel, was safety to the one side, and direct benefit to himself. He recognized at once a superiority in their armor and habiliments, which evinced a knowledge far beyond that of his own[69] people. They could be useful to him in many ways. Naturally humane and generous, after his first anger had cooled, he would not have harmed a hair of their heads. On the contrary, he and his people, had they found them helpless on the shore, would have tenderly received them. Now that he saw the tabu had not been violated, but that so far from sacrilege, an event had occurred that appeared to all miraculous, and confirmatory of the traditions of his ancestry, he determined to receive the strangers as his own kin, while he confirmed in the minds of his people the belief in their divinity. As the common Hawaiian’s idea of a god was of a being not more removed from him in power and intelligence than was the white man, this was an easy affair.
Accordingly he gave orders that they should be provided with suitable retinues and lands, and servants assigned to them as of his own family.
His decision was proclaimed by the public heralds. Great were the rejoicings and shouts throughout the valley, that Lono and his wife had come back and were to protect them from their enemies, and enrich them by new arts and gifts. The simple people believed and prostrated themselves deferentially before Juan and Beatriz. Their persons and those of the others were tabued or made sacred. No follower of Kiana’s dared lift his hand toward them, except to do them service or honor. The change from the peril of immediate massacre, to being worshipped as divine personages, was so striking, that while they realized its advantages,[70] they could not, before they had acquired the easy tongue of Hawaii, fully comprehend its cause. The seamen, however, readily domesticated themselves, taking wives, and were soon placed on the footing of petty chiefs.