as her ancestresses had lomied their ancestresses back through the
unnumbered generations. The brief duty visit over, Martha arose
and accompanied her back to the bungalow, putting money into her
hand, commanding proud and beautiful Japanese housemaids to wait
upon the dilapidated aborigine with poi, which is compounded of the
roots of the water lily, with iamaka, which is raw fish, and with
pounded kukui nut and limu, which latter is seawood tender to the
toothless, digestible and savoury. It was the old feudal tie, the
faithfulness of the commoner to the chief, the responsibility of
the chief to the commoner; and Martha, three-quarters haole with
the Anglo-Saxon blood of New England, was four-quarters Hawaiian in
her remembrance and observance of the well-nigh vanished customs of
old days.
As she came back across the lawn to the hau tree, Bella’s eyes
dwelt upon the moving authenticity of her and of the blood of her,
and embraced her and loved her. Shorter than Bella was Martha, a
trifle, but the merest trifle, less queenly of port; but
beautifully and generously proportioned, mellowed rather than
dismantled by years, her Polynesian chiefess figure eloquent and
glorious under the satisfying lines of a half-fitting, grandly
sweeping, black-silk holoku trimmed with black lace more costly
than a Paris gown.
And as both sisters resumed their talk, an observer would have
noted the striking resemblance of their pure, straight profiles, of
their broad cheek-bones, of their wide and lofty foreheads, of
their iron-grey abundance of hair, of their sweet-lipped mouths set
with the carriage of decades of assured and accomplished pride, and
of their lovely slender eye-rows arched over equally lovely long
brown eyes. The hands of both of them, little altered or defaced
by age, were wonderful in their slender, tapering finger-tips,
love-lomied and love-formed while they were babies by old Hawaiian
women like to the one even then eating poi and iamaka and limu in
the house.
“I had a year of it,” Bella resumed, “and, do you know, things were
beginning to come right. I was beginning to draw to Husband
George. Women are so made, I was such a woman at any rate. For he
was good. He was just. All the old sterling Puritan virtues were
his. I was coming to draw to him, to like him, almost, might I
say, to love him. And had not Uncle John loaned me that horse, I
know that I would have truly loved him and have lived ever happily
with him–in a quiet sort of way, of course.
On the Makaloa Mat/Island Tales
13
“You see, I knew nothing else, nothing different, nothing better in
the way of men. I came gladly to look across the table at him
while he read in the brief interval between supper and bed, gladly
to listen for and to catch the beat of his horse’s hoofs coming
home at night from his endless riding over the ranch. And his
scant praise was praise indeed, that made me tingle with happiness-
-yes, Sister Martha, I knew what it was to blush under his precise,
just praise for the things I had done right or correctly.
“And all would have been well for the rest of our lives together,
except that he had to take steamer to Honolulu. It was business.
He was to be gone two weeks or longer, first, for the Glenns in
ranch affairs, and next for himself, to arrange the purchase of
still more of the upper Nahala lands. Do you know! he bought lots
of the wilder and up-and-down lands, worthless for aught save
water, and the very heart of the watershed, for as low as five and
ten cents an acre. And he suggested I needed a change. I wanted
to go with him to Honolulu. But, with an eye to expense, he
decided Kilohana for me. Not only would it cost him nothing for me
to visit at the old home, but he saved the price of the poor food I
should have eaten had I remained alone at Nahala, which meant the
purchase price of more Nahala acreage. And at Kilohana Uncle John
said yes, and loaned me the horse.
“Oh, it was like heaven, getting back, those first several days.
It was difficult to believe at first that there was so much food in
all the world. The enormous wastage of the kitchen appalled me. I
saw waste everywhere, so well trained had I been by Husband George.
Why, out in the servants’ quarters the aged relatives and most
distant hangers-on of the servants fed better than George and I
ever fed. You remember our Kilohana way, same as the Parker way, a
bullock killed for every meal, fresh fish by runners from the ponds
of Waipio and Kiholo, the best and rarest at all times of
everything . . .
“And love, our family way of loving! You know what Uncle John was.
And Brother Walcott was there, and Brother Edward, and all the
younger sisters save you and Sally away at school. And Aunt
Elizabeth, and Aunt Janet with her husband and all her children on
a visit. It was arms around, and perpetual endearings, and all
that I had missed for a weary twelvemonth. I was thirsty for it.
I was like a survivor from the open boat falling down on the sand
and lapping the fresh bubbling springs at the roots of the palms.
“And THEY came, riding up from Kawaihae, where they had landed from
the royal yacht, the whole glorious cavalcade of them, two by two,
flower-garlanded, young and happy, gay, on Parker Ranch horses,
thirty of them in the party, a hundred Parker Ranch cowboys and as
many more of their own retainers–a royal progress. It was
Princess Lihue’s progress, of course, she flaming and passing as we
all knew with the dreadful tuberculosis; but with her were her
nephews, Prince Lilolilo, hailed everywhere as the next king, and
On the Makaloa Mat/Island Tales
14
his brothers, Prince Kahekili and Prince Kamalau. And with the
Princess was Ella Higginsworth, who rightly claimed higher chief
blood lines through the Kauai descent than belonged to the reigning
family, and Dora Niles, and Emily Lowcroft, and . . . oh, why
enumerate them all! Ella Higginsworth and I had been room-mates at
the Royal Chief School. And there was a great resting time for an
hour–no luau, for the luau awaited them at the Parkers’–but beer
and stronger drinks for the men, and lemonade, and oranges, and
refreshing watermelon for the women.
“And it was arms around with Ella Higginsworth and me, and the
Princess, who remembered me, and all the other girls and women, and
Ella spoke to the Princess, and the Princess herself invited me to
the progress, joining them at Mana whence they would depart two
days later. And I was mad, mad with it all–I, from a twelvemonth
of imprisonment at grey Nahala. And I was nineteen yet, just
turning twenty within the week.
“Oh, I had not thought of what was to happen. So occupied was I
with the women that I did not see Lilolilo, except at a distance,
bulking large and tall above the other men. But I had never been
on a progress. I had seen them entertained at Kilohana and Mana,
but I had been too young to be invited along, and after that it had
been school and marriage. I knew what it would be like–two weeks
of paradise, and little enough for another twelve months at Nahala.
“And I asked Uncle John to lend me a horse, which meant three
horses of course–one mounted cowboy and a pack horse to accompany
me. No roads then. No automobiles. And the horse for myself! It
was Hilo. You don’t remember him. You were away at school then,
and before you came home, the following year, he’d broken his back
and his rider’s neck wild-cattle-roping up Mauna Kea. You heard
about it–that young American naval officer.”
“Lieutenant Bowsfield,” Martha nodded.
“But Hilo! I was the first woman on his back. He was a three-
year-old, almost a four-year, and just broken. So black and in
such a vigour of coat that the high lights on him clad him in
shimmering silver. He was the biggest riding animal on the ranch,
descended from the King’s Sparklingdow with a range mare for dam,
and roped wild only two weeks before. I never have seen so
beautiful a horse. He had the round, deep-chested, big-hearted,
well-coupled body of the ideal mountain pony, and his head and neck
were true thoroughbred, slender, yet full, with lovely alert ears
not too small to be vicious nor too large to be stubborn mulish.
And his legs and feet were lovely too, unblemished, sure and firm,
with long springy pasterns that made him a wonder of ease under the
saddle.”
“I remember hearing Prince Lilolilo tell Uncle John that you were
the best woman rider in all Hawaii,” Martha interrupted to say.