Kiana. James Jackson Jarves
within the wall, and bordering the main avenue, leading to a large and commodious house, were many rudely carved wooden images, with round staring eyes and grinning mouths. Before them were the remains of fruit, and about them were hung wreaths of flowers, indicating that they were held in reverence. Passing between them, Juan felt disposed to try the temper of his sword upon their awkwardly shaped legs and arms for practice, and to express his abhorrence of what he termed blasphemy, quite forgetful that in his own land images of the Virgin and saints, some scarcely better executed, were common to every street and by every roadside, and that before them were lamps constantly burning and offerings of flowers placed.
Olmedo’s better judgment checked him. “This indeed may be, my son, as you say, a device of Satan to turn their hearts from the true worship; but let us learn more before we act. These very offerings and idols prove the necessity of worship to the darkened minds of their makers, and from these false symbols we may by persuasion turn them to the holy ones of our religion. Remember the Master’s charge to Peter, when he would have taken the sword. We have had too much of that, and too many of your brothers in arms have already perished by the sword. We have been led hither for some wise purpose. Be peaceful and patient. God will disclose his design in due season. In the meantime, let us respect all that we see, and if the people of this silent valley show themselves, meet them with the cross aloft and open hands. We are too few to contend against a multitude, though not to persuade them by courtesy and our very helplessness to peace and kindness. If none appear, let us use these good gifts, as provided by Him who has led us thither.”
Juan replied: “By my troth, father, I would clip off the heads of a few of these ugly monsters, if for no other motive than to call up a host of the evil spirits that possess them, that I might do them battle. You speak truth, however, and I will be patient. Hurry on, my men, let us explore this sanctuary, and see if we can start out any one to give us the hospitality we so sorely need.”
Beatriz, who feared his hasty mood, stopped him as he was about to enter the large house. “No, Juan, let me go in first. The inmates, if any there be, may slumber; the presence of a maiden,” said she, “will create neither alarm nor fear. I will enter first.”
So saying, she drew aside the heavy cloth which hung at the door and went in. Olmedo not heeding her request to Juan, entered immediately after, but not soon enough to anticipate Tolta, who glided in before him as noiselessly as a shadow. Juan and the others without further question followed after.
They found themselves in a spacious room formed by white posts driven into the ground, with rafters springing from them, making a lofty roof, covered throughout with thatch, fastened on in the neatest manner with neatly braided cord. The floor was spread with white mats. Every part was scrupulously clean. There were raised divans of fine mats variously colored, and as pliable as the coarser cloths of Europe. These invited repose, though the pillows being of wood covered with matting, indicated no effeminacy in the slumbers of their owners. Several of these divans were curtained by gaily painted cloths, differing in texture from anything they had seen before. It was something between paper and the cotton fabrics of Mexico. Garments of the same material, but of softer and finer quality hung about the walls. There were also wooden bowls of beautiful grain, highly polished and indicating no slight degree of mechanical skill; also vessels for water, formed from the gourd plant and prettily ornamented; fans, graceful plumes of crimson and golden feathers, protective armor of net or basket work, war clubs, spears and other weapons. In fine, they found themselves within a house, which afforded all that was necessary to their wants in that climate, and much that showed no inconsiderable degree of refinement and taste, but no one to challenge their intrusion.
The other houses presented a similar sight. They ransacked everywhere to find some one to explain the unaccountable desertion. There had been no haste. The inhabitants had not fled in fear. Everything was in its natural place and condition, just as were the household effects of the Pompeiians, when Vesuvius buried them in lava and ashes. But here the mystery was inexplicable. Evidently the desertion had not been very recent. Some weeks must have passed. Their own appearance, therefore, could not be connected with it. There was not an article that could properly belong to such domestic circles that was wanting, and all in the best condition and ready for use. Everything, however, that had life had been carefully removed. Even the usual tenants of deserted habitations, rats, were missing. The awe that almost mastered them in the silence of the open valley, no longer clung to them in the confined walls of human make. Curiosity was now uppermost. They talked freely and loudly, and busied themselves with conjectures to solve the wonder, but with no other result than to weary their minds without any satisfactory answer.
“At all events,” said Juan, “all but drowned in the morning, with our brave caravel ground to pieces on the rocks, and most of our poor seamen a prey to the fishes, here we are at night well housed, with food at hand, and no greedy innkeeper’s face to suggest a long bill. For my part let’s to sleep. This is much more comfortable than campaigning amid the rocks of Tlascalla, with the prospect of a copper-headed lance finding its way between the ribs before one could sleep out his first nap.”
“You counsel rightly,” replied the priest, “but first let us unite in the Ave Maria.” So saying, he motioned to them to come into the open air, and holding up his crucifix he led the chant, while the others knelt and joined in. Then in the silence of the setting sun, there arose, for the first time in that unknown land, the hymn of praise to the mother of Jesus, woman deified and restored to her true nature as the hope and purifier of man, the type of God’s love to his own image. Softly and gently as Beatriz breathed the words “Ave purissima,” they seemed to fill all space, and borne on the air of the fast coming night, stole through the valley, along the waters, up the hill-sides and amid the trees, with a melody which made all Nature listen and repeat in notes still more penetrating, that thrilling symphony of peace and purity. The evening stars looked down gladly upon the little band, and shedding a harmonious radiance around the singers, their hearts grew quiet and strong. Even Tolta felt its influence. As the seamen looked at the hideous idols about them, they fancied they saw them move in the night air as if they too bowed in worship to a spirit mightier than their own. It was indeed mightier; for it was the spirit of Love.
CHAPTER V.
“See man from Nature rising slow to Art.”—Pope.
Mauna Kea, the highest mountain of Hawaii, occupies the northern portion of the island. In some places it descends in grassy slopes, sufficiently gentle to form plains, dotted here and there with the many armed pandanus and the thickly leaved kukui trees. From the resinous nuts of the latter the natives obtained their torches, while its rich foliage and grand proportions made it equally valuable for timber or shade.
At the distance of some twenty miles from the bay where the caravel was wrecked, there was a level and extensive plain fringed with forests of the above named trees, and backed by the snow-topped mountains. The front afforded a wide-spread view of the ocean, the breezes from which, added to an elevation of several thousand feet, gave it a climate much cooler and more bracing than that of the coast. On this account, and from its natural beauties, it had from time immemorial been used by the Hawaiians as a spot on which to celebrate public games or sacred festivals. Its verdant and carefully irrigated soil afforded food for the numerous priests who belonged to the different “heiaus” or temples to be seen within its limits. These were built of basaltic stones, some of which were of great size, and nicely adjusted together without cement, according to their natural fractures. Within the walls, which were massive and high, were the houses of the priests and the shrines where were deposited the most sacred images. Each chief of importance had his family temple, around which had grown up villages, to accommodate himself and retainers in their periodical visits to this upland region.
For a month previous to the wreck, many thousands of the islanders had been gathered under their chiefs to engage in their annual athletic games. Their principal object was, however, to celebrate the festival of Lono. Now Lono