"But the bones of Kahekili.The Chief Konukalani had just dragged away Malia by the hair of the head, and you and Anapuni sat on without protest in the circle of drinking.What was it Malia whispered in Anapuni's ear, bending over him, her hair hiding the face of him?""That Kahekili was dead.That was what she whispered to Anapuni.That Kahekili was dead, just dead, and that the chiefs, ordering all within the house to remain within, were debating the disposal of the bones and meat of him before word of his death should get abroad.That the high priest Eoppo was deciding them, and that she had overheard no less than Anapuni and me chosen as the sacrifices to go the way of Kahekili and hisbones and to care for him afterward and for ever in the shadowy other world.""The moepuu, the human sacrifice," Pool commented."Yet it was nine years since the coming of the missionaries.""And it was the year before their coming that the idols were cast down and the taboos broken," Kumuhana added."But the chiefs still practised the old ways, the custom of hunakele, and hid the bones of the aliis where no men should find them and make fish-hooks of their jaws or arrow heads of their long bones for the slaying of little mice in sport.Behold, O Kanaka Oolea!"The old man thrust out his tongue; and, to Pool's amazement, he saw the surface of that sensitive organ, from root to tip, tattooed in intricate designs.
"That was done after the missionaries came, several years afterward, when Keopuolani died.Also, did I knock out four of my front teeth, and half-circles did I burn over my body with blazing bark.And whoever ventured out-of-doors that night was slain by the chiefs.Nor could a light be shown in a house or a whisper of noise be made.Even dogs and hogs that made a noise were slain, nor all that night were the ships' bells of the haoles in the harbour allowed to strike.It was a terrible thing in those days when an alii died.
"But the night that Kahekili died.We sat on in the drinking circle after Konukalani dragged Malia away by the hair.Some of the haole sailors grumbled; but they were few in the land in those days and the kanakas many.And never was Malia seen of men again.Konukalani alone knew the manner of her slaying, and he never told.And in after years what common men like Anapuni and me should dare to question him?
"Now she had told Anapuni before she was dragged away.But Anapuni's heart was black.Me he did not tell.Worthy he was of the killing I had intended for him.There was a giant harpooner in the circle, whose singing was like the bellowing of bulls; and, gazing on him in amazement while he roared some song of the sea, when next I looked across the circle to Anapuni, Anapuni was gone.He had fled to the highmountains where he could hide with the bird-catchers a week of moons.This I learned afterward.
"I? I sat on, ashamed of my desire of woman that had not been so strong as my slave-obedience to a chief.And I drowned my shame in large drinks of rum and whisky, till the world went round and round, inside my head and out, and the Southern Cross danced a hula in the sky, and the Koolau Mountains bowed their lofty summits to Waikiki and the surf of Waikiki kissed them on their brows.And the giant harpooner was still roaring, his the last sounds in my ear, as I fell back on the lauhala mat, and was to all things for the time as one dead.
"When I awoke was at the faint first beginning of dawn.I was being kicked by a hard naked heel in the ribs.What of the enormousness of the drink I had consumed, the feelings aroused in me by the heel were not pleasant.The kanakas and wahines of the drinking were gone.I alone remained among the sleeping sailormen, the giant harpooner snoring like a whale, his head upon my feet.
"More heel-kicks, and I sat up and was sick.But the one who kicked was impatient, and demanded to know where was Anapuni.And I did not know, and was kicked, this time from both sides by two impatient men, because I did not know.Nor did I know that Kahekili was dead.Yet did I guess something serious was afoot, for the two men who kicked me were chiefs, and no common men crouched behind them to do their bidding.One was Aimoku, of Kaneche; the other Humuhumu, of Manoa.
"They commanded me to go with them, and they were not kind in their commanding; and as I uprose, the head of the giant harpooner was rolled off my feet, past the edge of the mat, into the sand.He grunted like a pig, his lips opened, and all of his tongue rolled out of his mouth into the sand.Nor did he draw it back.For the first time I knew how long was a man's tongue.The sight of the sand on it made me sick for the second time.It is a terrible thing, the next day after a night of drinking.I was afire, dry afire, all the inside of me like a burnt cinder, like aa lava, like the harpooner's tongue dry and gritty with sand.I bent for a half-drunk drinking coconut, but Aimoku kicked it out of my shaking fingers, andHumuhumu smote me with the heel of his hand on my neck.
"They walked before me, side by side, their faces solemn and black, and I walked at their heels.My mouth stank of the drink, and my head was sick with the stale fumes of it, and I would have cut off my right hand for a drink of water, one drink, a mouthful even.And, had I had it, I know it would have sizzled in my belly like water spilled on heated stones for the roasting.It is terrible, the next day after the drinking.All the life- time of many men who died young has passed by me since the last I was able to do such mad drinking of youth when youth knows not capacity and is undeterred.
