The village of Nahua is in a great excitement to-day. Everything wears an aspect of unusual gaiety. The houses are bedecked with flowers, and in the center of the village has been erected two rows of high poles standing about twenty feet apart and extending in a line almost two hundred feet long. Garlands of flowers are stretched from the top of these poles in all directions and are also wound around the poles, the whole forming a canopied avenue of exceeding beauty. Under this canopy were placed two rows of straw mats; further on were laid more mats in the form of a letter H. On these mats was spread a banquet consisting of raw fish with chili peppers, fish dried in the sun, fish that had been wrapped in leaves and then cooked, devil fish which had been salted and dried, its long slender tentacles being regarded as an especial dainty. Then there was lemu, or sea kale, plantain, kalo, a vegetable resembling, somewhat, the potato, there was kui, or candlenut, ground to a coarse powder and salted, to be eaten as a relish to the fish. There were mangoes, guavas, oranges, dates, figs, pomegranates, papiea, young cocoanuts, the meat of which was not yet hard, but of a thick creamy appearance and had to be scooped out with little spoon-shaped pieces of shell. Then there was a large number of small cups made of wood curiously carved, containing a peculiar, greyish looking mass of something that would put one in mind of paste, if one were not told it was a very much liked dish, in fact, being the piece d’ resistance of the feast. Into these little dishes of poi, as it is called, a native will daintily dip the first finger, then giving it a quick twirl, wrap a sufficient quantity on the finger, when it is skillfully and gracefully conveyed to the mouth. For drinking, we were provided small calabashes full of the juice of the young cocoanut and large calabashes containing awa awa, a drink very much esteemed by them, being in its effects very much like whisky.
The cause of all this preparation was the fact that it was the yearly celebration of the maiden’s feast. On this day the inhabitants of the four villages on the island gathered at Nahua, the principal village of the kingdom.
All the morning of this day, Mabel and Etta had been very busy and now were resting under the shade of the trellis of their cottage, when a native girl, about sixteen years old, came toward the house, followed by an older girl, each bearing in their hands the fall dress of a native maiden; the younger girl was Kaelea, the sister of Ahleka. She was slender and graceful; her charms would have attracted the notice of a sculptor at first glance; her face was expressive; her features delicate; her eyes brown, large, soft and languorous; her hair hung in a wavy mass far below her waist. She moved with a peculiar grace seldom seen. But, if she was beautiful, what was Maula, who came with her, Maula was the maiden of the village, of Howcu, the village on that part of the island, which was beyond the arm of the sea; she was a vision of voluptuous loveliness, tall and stately, grand in her proportions; her eyes could melt in tenderest mood or flash in the wildest anger or proudest defiance. She seemed to bend every one to her will, so strong and passionate was her nature. She was much darker than Kaelea, being a full blooded native. In her bearing she somehow made one think of a tigress; when in a happy mood, moving with a sinuous grace, which was fascinating, and when angry, one could but admire her grandeur.
As these two girls were crossing the open space, between the two houses, Etta was saying to Mabel, “I can hardly believe that it is six months since we landed here. Does it seem possible to you?”
“No, it does not, and yet it is strange that the time should seem to pass quickly,” replied Mabel. “I feel, whenever I think of my father, that I should be unhappy, instead of contented, as I am. My poor father, his heart, I know, is almost broken, for I was his all; and long ’ere now he has given us up as dead. My poor, poor father, I can picture in my mind his grief.”
“Do not think of that Mabel. Above all not to-day when every one is expected to be happy and make merry,” begged Etta.
Mabel, now seeing the two girls coming towards them, got up to receive them, as did also Etta. Kaelea and Maula entered the cottage, with the adornments they held in their hands, extended laughingly towards the two American girls.
Maula was the first to speak: “Your father and your friend have long been wearing the dress of our country; now we shall see how fair and beautiful you will look when dressed in the costume which nature teaches her children to wear. Your loveliness is obscured by the ugly garments that are put upon you to hinder your movements. When you are dressed as we are, you will be free; you will never wish to again put on those clothes which make you so uncomfortable.”
“Well, you see, they do not seem at all uncomfortable to us,” laughed Mabel, “but, as our clothes are completely worn out, we are obliged to dress as you do, and I have no doubt we shall like it, too,” this she added as she noticed a slight frown on Maula’s face. Kaelea took Etta aside and soon arrayed her in the costume. In the meantime, Maula was showing Mabel the mysteries of a Nahua maiden’s toilet. First she placed around her waist a skirt which reached to the knees, being composed of a series of fringes of grass; around her body was wound a length of soft kapa, or tree fibre cloth, in color bright blue, this being passed around the body twice and tied at the side, had both a picturesque and modest effect. Around her neck was hung a necklace of shells, pure white in color, and about the size and shape of a grain of rice; this necklace encircled her throat about twenty times. On her arms were placed shell bracelets, on her ankles the fringe of soft grass. Last of all a sort of chaplet, made of the brightest feathers, which crowned her head. When Maula had placed this upon her shining hair, Mabel stood arrayed for the first time in the native dress which she was hereafter to wear.
“I feel so oddly, Maula, with this short skirt,” she said.
“You will like the dress, I am sure, when you are used to it,” answered Maula. “There will be no maiden at the feast half as beautiful as yourself, and happy will he be, whom you choose to be your husband.”
“Oh, do not think I intend to choose a husband,” quickly answered Mabel, blushing a deep crimson, “I shall not choose a husband.”
“No,” queried Maula, “then do you not love your friend Allen?”
“No,” came the answer. It was not pleasant to Mabel to be thus questioned, yet she could not resent it, as it was not intended to displease her. “I do not love Allen, and if I did I should not choose him, for in my country the young girls must not choose their husbands, but wait to be asked in marriage by the young men.”
“Do you mean you do not love him?” exclaimed Maula.
“No, indeed, I do not. Why do you ask?”
“Ah, now is Maula happy. Maula loves Allen. Oh, how she loves him. But she would have waited until the moon maidens had chosen. Then, if you had chosen him, Maula would have taken her canoe far out beyond the reef and thrown herself to the sharks.” As the girl spoke, a passionate light shone in her eyes, forcing Mabel to believe her. “But now he is Maula’s. How I love him. I shall be so kind, so gentle, to him that he shall love me in return. Maula shall be a soft, cooing dove in his hands, a wild beast of the hills to his enemies.”
“But what if he refuse you?”
“He will not when I look with love into his eyes, open my arms and fold him to my breast, and press my burning lips to his. I shall dance before him. He shall see my strength, my ease of movement, my grace; he will love me!”
She beat her heaving breast with her clenched hands, and Mabel stood aghast at the intensity of the girl’s love. She, too, could but think that Allen would not be able to resist this beautiful tigress.
The girl continued, “and if he scorns my love, and says no, then he shall die. It is our country’s custom. No man is fit to live who will refuse a maiden’s love. But he shall not die at the hands of our warriors, but I shall kill him! Maula has a strong arm and can handle the spear with as sure an aim as her brothers. Maula’s hand shall end his life. I have sworn it, if he refuses my love. But he will not,” calming herself. “But you say that in your country the maidens wait to be asked. There must be many who have no husbands.”
“Yes, that is so,” answered Mabel, “but there is one objection to your way; if the man does not love the maiden whom he marries, he will be unhappy. Have you no unhappy marriages?”
“No, they rarely occur. You see, on the day of the maiden’s festival, each maiden chooses the one she loves; from that moment they belong to each other, but at the end of a year she is at liberty to go back to her home and he, also, is permitted to take her back to her father’s house if he finds she is not lovable, kind, obedient and all that he desires in a wife; so that all the time she tries to please him and any maiden can make a man love her by her affectionate gentleness, and when he learns to love her he tries to please her so that, at the yearly feast she shall not wish to leave him, and each year they renew their vows.”
“Oh,” said Mabel, “a sort of yearly probation. It is a good plan, for then they constantly strive to please each other.”
Etta now advanced, accompanied by Kaelea, towards the other two girls. She, too, was fully dressed in the costume of the island. Her necklace was a bright red coral, the strip of cloth about her waist a delicate yellow; otherwise her dress was the same as Mabel’s.