Pikoi uses his skills
to kill the enemies
"Enemies of the Chief"
Keawenui, high chief of Hawai'i, stood looking up the barren mountain slope toward the forest. Nothing! No one running down the trail. And yet many days had passed.
"O Heavenly One, may you live long."
Keawenui had not heard the man who now knelt before him. "Speak," he said.
"O Heavenly One, many days have passed since your canoe makers went into the forest. Is it not time to haul the new canoe down to Hilo?"
"It is time," the chief answered, "but no word has come. The men have not sent a runner to say that the canoe is ready." He turned again to search the mountain trail with his keen eyes.
"I see someone!" he exclaimed. The tiny figure seemed to move slowly. It was lost to sight then seen again nearer and larger.
"It is my kahuna, himself," the chief said. "What is wrong that the old man comes to bring the news?"
At last the old kahuna knelt before Keawenui.
"What news do you bring, O Kahuna?" Keawenui asked.
"The canoe is not yet hollowed," the old man answered. "The chief has enemies in the forest -- birds!"
"Speak, Kahuna. I do not understand your riddle."
"I chose a tree. It was a koa, tall and straight, fit for a chief's canoe. We cut it down, trimmed away the branches and shaped the canoe. All had gone well and our hearts were glad.
"We started to hollow the canoe. Suddenly we heard voices from above us. 'That canoe will have bad luck! The log is rotten. When it is in the ocean it will turn bottom up.'
"High above us in a treetop sat two birds. They called again their bad-luck cry, then flew away. We turned to our work, but the words of those birds were true words. There were rotten spots in that koa log."
"Why did you not choose another tree?"
"O Heavenly One, I did. Another and another. Three great trees we have cut down, trimmed and shaped. Only when all that work was done did the birds cry their bad-luck cry. Only then did we find rotten places. These birds are your enemies! They will not let the chief have a new canoe."
"My enemies shall die!" the chief exclaimed. He turned to the man who knelt nearby. "Run to the rat shooters of Hilo," he commanded. "Tell them it is my will that they go up into the forest with my kahuna and kill these birds"
The command of the chief was obeyed. Some days later the rat shooters returned to Hilo hanging their heads in shame. "O Heavenly One, we could not kill those birds," they said. "They perched high on a tree. We bent our heads back until our necks ached. We gazed at those small birds and aimed our arrows. Again and again we shot, but no arrow could hit them."
"Birds!" the chief cried. "Shall two little birds bring bad luck to Keawenui and not be punished? Surely there is someone on this island who knows how to use bow and arrows."
He called for runners and sent them around the island. "Call the best rat shooters on Hawai'i," he commanded. "Tell them the high chief, himself, will watch their shooting. He will give a reward to the one who rids him of these enemies!"
Some days later, the chief, with his men, went to the forest. They found the canoe makers ready. Another large koa tree had been cut, trimmed and shaped. Several rat shooters had come and all waited for their chief.
"Where are these enemies you talk of?" Keawenui asked. "I see no birds."
One of the canoe makers lifted his stone adze and began to hollow the log. The chief saw two birds fly from the blue sky and perch high in a tall tree. Then he heard their hoarse cry: "Bad luck! Bad luck! That canoe will have bad luck! The log is rotten. When it is in the ocean it will turn bottom up."
The chief turned to the rat shooter nearest him. "A reward from your chief if you kill his enemies!" The man took careful aim, but his arrow fell short.
Keawenui motioned to the next rat shooter. This man bent his bow far back and let his arrow fly. It went straight toward the birds, but they moved a little. The arrow missed.
As man after man shot and missed, the chief grew angry. Then he became afraid. Could no one kill these strange enemies? Would he never have a new canoe?
He lifted his head with sudden hope. "Ma'inele!" he said. "I have heard that Ma'inele is the champion rat shooter of O'ahu. Let us send for him. ...
"Let Ma'inele come to Hawai'i and rid the chief of his enemies. Let him do this and Keawenui will give him the young chiefess for his wife.'" Keawenui did not know that there was a better rat shooter than Ma'inele!
YEARS HAD PASSED since Pikoi had won the rat shooting contest in Manoa. Now he was a man and one of the high chief's men in Waikiki. He was a strong, skillful, clever young man and a fine companion. He had many friends, and one enemy. Ma'inele had never forgotten that he had been beaten by a boy.
One day Pikoi saw strangers coming from the landing place. Men from another island? He watched them go toward the home of the high chief. After a time the strangers returned to the beach. Ma'inele was with them. Ma'inele! "Where are you going?" Pikoi asked.
Ma'inele walked on as if he had not heard.
The men pushed off the canoe and stepped in, but no one answered Pikoi.
"Take me with you," he begged again. "I am a strong paddler."
But the canoe was gone.
"Perhaps you can go in the small canoe." Pikoi turned quickly to a man who stood near, also watching.
"The small canoe?" he asked, not understanding.
"Yes. A small canoe came from Hilo with the large one. A man named Waiakea was paddling. I think he went off to visit friends. Perhaps he will come back to Waikiki."
After a time, a small canoe came flying along before the quick strokes of one paddler. "Has the double canoe gone?" the paddler shouted.
"Yes," said Piikoi. "But take me with you. I am a good paddler. You and I together can paddle fast and reach Hilo before the large canoe."
"Good!" Waiakea answered. "Get your things."
Pikoi grabbed a bundle wrapped in kapa -- his bow and arrows. Soon the canoe was flying through the waves. Waiakea was glad of the help of this young man of O'ahu. He did not know his name and he did not care. Both men paddled fast and wasted no time in talk.
They came in sight of Moloka'i. Suddenly Waiakea heard his companion exclaim, "There's a big rat!"
He had bow and arrow in his hands and was getting ready to shoot. "Keep paddling!" he said. "Keep the canoe steady."
Waiakea turned to his paddling but he was filled with wonder. Shoot what? Where? What was that young man talking about?
"I got it!" Pikoi said. He began to paddle and the canoe, again, flew through the waves.
"Where?"
"On Moloka'i. It is quiet now. It must be dead. But let us paddle to the shore for I want to get my arrow."
Waiakea watched his companion wade ashore and pull his arrow from a large rat. Waiakea stared. Who was this man who could shoot a rat while far, far at sea? Wonderful!
The canoe came near Maui. "There's a rat--another big one!" Waiakea heard his companion say and turned to watch him shoot. "Good!" he said. "I got that one!"
"Where?" Waiakea asked.
"On the rocks there above Lahaina. Don't you see the rat?"
No. Waiakea could hardly see Lahaina! Could a man really shoot so far and kill a rat?
The two paddled long. At last they came near Hawai'i. "There's another big one!" said Pikoi suddenly. "Upon the Kohala plain."
Waiakea watched his companion shoot. His eyes followed the arrow and saw it strike. He watched Pikoi pull his arrow from a great rat.
The two paddled on, but slowly now. They had breath for talk. Waiakea told Pikoi about the enemies of Keawenui and why the canoes had gone to Waikiki. "I don't believe Ma'inele is a better rat shooter than you are," he finished.
Pikoi said nothing.
When they reached Hilo Waiakea took the young man to his home. "You stay with me," he said. "When it is time for the bird shooting, we can go up to the forest together."
But before time for the bird shooting Pikoi had made another friend. That was the young chiefess, the beautiful daughter of Keawenui. Pikoi surfed with the young chiefess and her companion. They talked and sang together.
On the day of the shooting, Waiakea slept late next morning and when he did awake was in a great hurry. "This is the day!" he told Pikoi. "Come. We are going up to the forest to see Ma'inele shoot those bad-luck birds."
"Suppose Ma'inele shoots them," said Pikoi, "what will be his reward?"
"The young chiefess," Waiakea answered. "If Ma'inele kills the chief's enemies Keawenui will make him his son-in-law."
So she is to be the reward, Pikoi said to himself. Ma'inele is to marry that beautiful young woman! He must not. I can shoot better than Ma'inele.
"Come," said Waiakea. "Everyone is going up the mountain. We must hurry."
"I am going surfing," Pikoi answered.
"And miss the bird shooting?" exclaimed Waiakea. "Why did you come to Hawai'i?"
"I shall come up later."
Piikoi surfed with the young chiefess and her companion. His fears left him. He almost forgot about Ma'inele.
"Are you going to the bird shooting?" the chiefess asked.
"Are you?"
"No, but we will walk up the trail with you. You ought to go." So the three walked up the trail. It was hot and dusty until they reached the forest's edge. There they sat down. Pikoi climbed lehua trees for red and white flowers and the young women made lei. A little breeze brought them the perfume of fern and maile. The air was full of bird songs. The three were quiet and very happy.
Suddenly they heard the sound of running on the trail above. With that sound all Pikoi's fears returned. The bird shooting is over! he thought. Ma'inele has killed those enemies of the chief and he will marry this lovely young woman!
The next moment Waiakea came around a turn in the trial and stood before them. "Here you are!" he said to Pikoi. "You must come with me at once. Keawenui is asking for you."
"The high chief has never seen me." Pikoi answered. "He has never heard of me."
"He has now," said Waiakea. "Ma'inele could not shoot those birds. He is no better than the rat shooters of this island. But you can hit them. I know you can. I told Keawenui that I have a friend staying with me, an O'ahu man. I told him you are the best rat shooter in the world. 'Bring him here,' the chief commanded. 'Bring him at once.' "
Pikoi's heart was beating fast with joy when he heard that Ma'inele had not shot the birds. He was sure that he could. "I will come," he said.
Waiakea took Pikoi to Keawenui. "O Heavenly One," he said, "this is the man from O'ahu."
Keawenui looked at Pikoi sadly. Pikoi could see that he had lost hope. Aloud he said, pointing, "There are my enemies, O Man of O'ahu. Shoot them if you can."
Pikoi looked up at the treetops. His keen eyes saw the birds but he understood why others had failed. To shoot, a man must bend back until his neck ached. Even then the birds were tiny dots against the sky. He turned to Waiakea. "I need a large wooden bowl of water."
A crowd had come to the forest to watch Ma'inele kill the birds. When he had failed they were very sad. Bad luck seemed to hang over their chief -- over their island. Who was this new stranger, anyway? They crowded around to look at him.
Waiakea brought a large wooden bowl of water and set it on the ground. Pikoi looked into the bowl, moved it and looked again. Then he stood gazing into it. The crowd began to laugh. A man came to shoot birds in the treetops, and then stood looking into a bowl of water on the ground!
But Pikoi was not gazing idly. In the water he could see the reflection of the birds. He could watch them without bending backward or straining his eyes. He could watch them without those wise and evil birds knowing that he watched. Pikoi did not hear the laughter of the crowd. He was watching the way the birds stretched their necks and moved their heads. He watched until he was sure of the best moment for a shot.
Then he prayed. He must kill these birds with his first shot! He must win the young chiefess. As he chanted his prayer Pikoi was gazing into the water mirror and watching for the right moment. Still looking down, he raised his bow above his head and aimed. For a moment he held the arrow.
"I am Pikoi,While Pikoi chanted the crowd had grown quiet. With upturned faces they watched his arrow fly. They saw it pin the necks of those bad-luck birds together. The birds fell at their feet -- dead. A great shout went up, a shout of wonder, joy and thankfulness.
Pikoi of Kaua'i.
Hush! Be still!
There are the birds up there.
Here I am below.
Fly, arrow of mine
To the necks of the birds."
Pikoi had won the young chiefess as his wife.
Next week: Pikoi sees Hawai'i
Click for online
calendars and events.
