power to change his shape when it pleased him to issue from the water
and walk the earth. It befell that this eel-king, Mimi, beheld
Liliokani upon a time as he swam the little river near her father's
abode, and he saw that she was exceeding fair and he heard the soft,
sad sea-tone in her voice. So for many days Mimi frequented those
parts and grew more and more in love with the maiden.

Upon a certain day, while she helped her father to mend his nets,
Liliokani saw a young man of goodly stature and handsome face
approaching, and to herself she said: "Surely if ever I be tempted to
wed it shall be with this young man, whose like I have never before
known." But she had no thought that it was Mimi, the eel-king, who in
this changed shape now walked the earth.

Sweetly he made obeisance and pleasant was his discourse with the
fisherman and his daughter, and he told them many things of his home,
which he said was many kumes distant from that spot. Though he spake
mostly to the old man, his eyes were fixed upon Liliokani, and, after
the fashion of her sex, that maiden presently knew that he had great
love unto her. Many days after that came Mimi to hold discourse with
them, and they had joy of his coming, for in sooth he was of fair
countenance and sweet address, and the fisherman, being a single-minded
and a simple man, had no suspicion of the love between Mimi and
Liliokani. But once Mimi said to Liliokani in such a voice as the
sea-wind hath to the maiden palm-trees: "Brown maiden mine, let thy
door be unlatched this night, and I will come to thee."

So the door was not latched that night and Mimi went in unto her, and
they two were together and alone.

"What meaneth that moaning of the sea?" asked Liliokani.

"The sea chanteth our bridal anthem," he answered.

"And what sad music cometh from the palms to-night?" she asked.

"They sing soft and low of our wedded love," he answered.

But Liliokani apprehended evil, and, although she spake no more of it
at that time, a fear of trouble was in her heart.

Now Atua, the all-god, was exceeding wroth at this thing, and in
grievous anger he beheld how that every night the door was unlatched
and Mimi went in unto Liliokani. And Atua set about to do vengeance,
and Atua's wrath is sure and very dreadful.

There was a night when Mimi did not come; the door was unlatched and
the breath of Liliokani was as the perfume of flowers and of spices
commingled; yet he came