eignty or possessions, and the seer left for Kauai, with
but a single oarsman, in the morning. She arrived while the new-year
festivities were in progress, and everybody was in good-humor. There
were music, dancing, chanting of poems and traditions, feasting, and
much swigging of spirits, not to speak of indulgences that would have
shocked civilization. Unannounced, a weird-like, commanding figure,
Waahia sought the presence of the court. She had come, she said, to
make a final offer for the release of the royal prisoner: the offer
of a sword that flashed like fire, that was harder than stone, that
broke spears like reeds, that gave to its owner supreme fortune and
supreme command. The fame of the bright knife had gone abroad ere this,
and an offer had at last been made that carried persuasion with it. The
liberty of the king was promised when it should be brought. But first
she wished the prisoner's assurance that on his return he would give
his daughter in marriage to her son, since the young people loved
each other, and the marriage would also remove the disgrace that the
queen had angrily tried to fix upon Kaulu.

This was agreed to, and a few days later the old woman reappeared at
the palace with the splendid weapon,--one that would still be splendid,
for such blades are not made nowadays,--and with general rejoicing
at the possession of this wonder, the chiefs liberated Kalaunui, and
he returned to Hawaii, cured of ambition for leadership and military
glory. His daughter was married to Kaulu, captain of the royal guard,
and kings were their descendants. For many years the glittering prize
remained with the ruling house of Kauai, but its virtue had fled when
the invincible Kamehameha undertook the conquest of the islands and
their union under a single king, for he succeeded in that enterprise,
as Kalaunui had not.

Lo-Lale's Lament

Lo-Lale, a prince of Oahu in the fifteenth century, took no joy in
the sea after the girl had been drowned in it who was betrothed to
him. Retiring inland, he led a quiet, thoughtful life, to the regret
of those who had looked to see him show some fitness in leadership,
for as youth verged toward middle age he was repeatedly besought
to marry, that his princely line might be continued. Tired of these
importunities, and possibly not averse to the lightening of his spirit,
he consented that a wife should be sought for him, and appointed his
handsome, dashing cousin, Kalamakua