Page:Pele and Hiiaka; a myth from Hawaii (IA pelehiiakamythfr00emeriala).pdf/73



"The luau must be burnt to a crisp," Hiiaka said as she sat up.

As Hiiaka and her companions again wended their way through the forest, it was evident that its innocent creatures had unjustly suffered in company with their guilty invaders and time had not yet sufficed for the exercise of that miracle of tropic repair which quickly heals and covers the damage done by a tempest. Broken limbs, fallen trees and twisted vines still blocked the narrow trails, while here and there an uprooted forest giant, in unseemly fashion, obtruded a Medusa-head of tawny roots in place of its comely coronal of leaves.

In their journey they came at length to a place, Maka'u-kiu, where the road seemingly ended abruptly in a precipice with the ocean dashing wildly at its base. The alternative open to their choice was, to seek out some round-about inland way, or to take the shorter route and swim the ocean-made gap. The two women, Wahine-oma'o taking the lead, proposed, as a diversion, to swim the ocean and thus avoid a long and wearisome detour. Hiiaka strenuously vetoed the proposition; but the two women, not yet trained to subordinate their will and judgment to the decision of the leader, persisted. Hiiaka, thereupon, took a stem of the ti plant and, peeling off its rusty bark, left it white and easily visible. "I will throw this stick into the water," said she, "and if it disappears we will not make of this an au-hula-ana; but if it remains in sight, then we will swim across this wild piece of water."

It seemed to Hiiaka that her companions displayed a masculine stubbornness and unreasonableness, a criticism which she uttered in her chanting way: