"I don't know whether you remember her father was Kaaukuu.Well, he was, and he was a giant.When they built the Mausoleum, his bones, nicely cleaned and preserved, were dug out of their hiding- place, and placed in the Mausoleum.Hiwilani had an old retainer, Ahuna.Shestole the key from Kanau one night, and made Ahuna go and steal her father's bones out of the Mausoleum.I know.And he must have been a giant.She kept him in one of her big jars.One day, when I was a tidy size of a lad, and curious to know if Kaaukuu was as big as tradition had him, I fished his intact lower jaw out of the jar, and the wrappings, and tried it on.I stuck my head right through it, and it rested around my neck and on my shoulders like a horse collar.And every tooth was in the jaw, whiter than porcelain, without a cavity, the enamel unstained and unchipped.I got the walloping of my life for that offence, although she had to call old Ahuna in to help give it to me.But the incident served me well.It won her confidence in me that I was not afraid of the bones of the dead ones, and it won for me my Oxford education.As you shall see, if that car doesn't arrive first.
"Old Ahuna was one of the real old ones with the hall-mark on him and branded into him of faithful born-slave service.He knew more about my mother's family, and my father's, than did both of them put together.And he knew, what no living other knew, the burial- place of centuries, where were hid the bones of most of her ancestors and of Kanau's.Kanau couldn't worm it out of the old fellow, who looked upon Kanau as an apostate.
"Hiwilani struggled with the old codger for years.How she ever succeeded is beyond me.Of course, on the face of it, she was faithful to the old religion.This might have persuaded Ahuna to loosen up a little.Or she may have jolted fear into him; for she knew a lot of the line of chatter of the old Huni sorcerers, and she could make a noise like being on terms of utmost intimacy with Uli, who is the chiefest god of sorcery of all the sorcerers.She could skin the ordinary kahuna lapaau" (medicine man) "when it came to praying to Lonopuha and Koleamoku; read dreams and visions and signs and omens and indigestions to beat the band; make the practitioners under the medicine god, Maiola, look like thirty cents; pull off a pule hee incantation that would make them dizzy; and she claimed to a practice of kahuna hoenoho, which is modern spiritism, second to none.I have myself seen her drink the wind, throw a fit, and prophesy.The aumakuas were brothers to her when she slipped offerings to them acrossthe altars of the ruined heiaus" (temples) "with a line of prayer that was as unintelligible to me as it was hair-raising.And as for old Ahuna, she could make him get down on the floor and yammer and bite himself when she pulled the real mystery dope on him.
"Nevertheless, my private opinion is that it was the anaana stuff that got him.She snipped off a lock of his hair one day with a pair of manicure scissors.This lock of hair was what we call the maunu, meaning the bait.And she took jolly good care to let him know she had that bit of his hair.Then she tipped it off to him that she had buried it, and was deeply engaged each night in her offerings and incantations to Uli.""That was the regular praying-to-death?" I queried in the pause of Prince Akuli's lighting his cigarette.
"Sure thing," he nodded."And Ahuna fell for it.First he tried to locate the hiding-place of the bait of his hair.Failing that, he hired a pahiuhiu sorcerer to find it for him.But Hiwilani queered that game by threatening to the sorcerer to practise apo leo on him, which is the art of permanently depriving a person of the power of speech without otherwise injuring him.
"Then it was that Ahuna began to pine away and get more like a corpse every day.In desperation he appealed to Kanau.I happened to be present.You have heard what sort of a man my father was.
"'Pig!' he called Ahuna.'Swine-brains! Stinking fish! Die and be done with it.You are a fool.It is all nonsense.There is nothing in anything.The drunken haole, Howard, can prove the missionaries wrong.Square-face gin proves Howard wrong.The doctors say he won't last six months.Even square-face gin lies.Life is a liar, too.And here are hard times upon us, and a slump in sugar.Glanders has got into my brood mares.I wish I could lie down and sleep for a hundred years, and wake up to find sugar up a hundred points.'
"Father was something of a philosopher himself, with a bitter wit and a trick of spitting out staccato epigrams.He clapped his hands.'Bring me a high-ball,' he commanded; 'no, bring me two high-balls.' Then he turned on Ahuna.'Go and let yourself die, old heathen, survival ofdarkness, blight of the Pit that you are.But don't die on these premises.I desire merriment and laughter, and the sweet tickling of music, and the beauty of youthful motion, not the croaking of sick toads and googly-eyed corpses about me still afoot on their shaky legs.I'll be that way soon enough if I live long enough.And it will be my everlasting regret if I don't live long enough.Why in hell did I sink that last twenty thousand into Curtis's plantation? Howard warned me the slump was coming, but I thought it was the square-face making him lie.And Curtis has blown his brains out, and his head luna has run away with his daughter, and the sugar chemist has got typhoid, and everything's going to smash.'
"He clapped his hands for his servants, and commanded: 'Bring me my singing boys.And the hula dancers--plenty of them.And send for old Howard.Somebody's got to pay, and I'll shorten his six months of life by a month.But above all, music.Let there be music.It is stronger than drink, and quicker than opium.'
