The excitement caused by the arrival of the Eliza Judd was intense, as she was the first craft the islanders had ever seen, with the exception of the life-boat in which Captain Gray and his companions had come ashore. The water was soon dotted by dozens of canoes, bearing them out to inspect this wonder of man’s creation.
“Well, is your trunk all packed for the trip home?” asked Captain Gray, with a laugh, of Mabel, who stood near him.
“Well, I must say, our packing will not take us long,” she replied, “but do you know, Captain Gray, I hate to leave the island of Kaahlanai? I have been so happy here.”
“Oh, nonsense, what do you find here to make you forget the life of your own country, except it may be, your handsome rascal Ahleka. There lies the secret of your liking for this country, I expect.”
“Oh, of course, that has something to do with it; but still there is so much more real enjoyment in the lives of these people than at home, that I cannot bear to leave it all.”
“By the way, when you get home again, what do you think your father is going to say to your attachment for Ahleka? I think myself, that he will soon put a stop to it. If he does not, he is not the sensible man I take him to be.”
“He cannot put a stop to it,” said Mabel, firmly, then turned to join Ahleka who stood a few steps away. The two lovers, leaving the rest of the party, walked on in silence for some time, the heart of each too full for speech. Finally coming to a clump of trees, under which the grass was thick and long, they sat down.
Ahleka was the first to break the silence by saying: “Are you going to leave Ahleka, my fair moon flower? Are you going to leave fair Kaahlanai, the isle of the sun, and once more return to your own home far across the water? What shall I do, my love, if you leave me?”
“Yes Ahleka, my prince. I must leave Kaahlanai and return to my own land, for there my father mourns for me. I was his only happiness and I must go back to him; but the thought of being separated from you is as bitter to me as it is to you. But why cannot you go with me; then my father may bless our union.”
“Do you wish me to go? You know that your wish is my law. You have but to make a request and it shall be granted, even if it costs my life. Yes, if it is your wish I will go.”
“It is my wish, and you have made me so happy by your consent. Now my heart shall not be so sad at leaving Kaahlanai, where I have been so content and happy, where I have learned so much that is pure and true.”
“But,” queried Ahleka, “will you still love me when you have once more seen the difference between myself and the men of your own nation? Will your heart still beat alone for him whose life is worthless without your love?”
As he spoke he suddenly caught her in his arms and held her closely to him, looking into her eyes with an expression almost fierce, so intense were his feelings.
“Ah, Ahleka, I can never love any one but you. You are the one man, in all the world to me. I love you far better each day. I would do anything to prove my love to you.”
“Would you? Suppose I were to try your love in the shape of physical suffering?”
“Ask whatever proof you wish, I will give it willingly,” was the answer to his strange question.
“In the olden times,” he began, “when the different villages of Kaahlanai were unfriendly to one another, they were continually at war, and when the warriors left to fight for their village, it was their custom to ask of their wives a proof of their love and devotion. This proof consisted in cutting from the arm of the wife a small piece of flesh and a corresponding piece from the husband’s arm, and transferring the flesh of one arm to the other. Can your love stand so severe a test?”
Mabel looked at him a moment and then quietly said, “I love you, Ahleka, there is my arm; do as you please with it,” at the same time extending her fair, round arm, which was bare, except that a number of shell bracelets adorned it. Ahleka took her hand and covered the delicate arm with his impassioned kisses.
“We will go,” he said, “to Kalui. He will perform for us, the test of faith.” Kalui was an old man of Howcu, who attended the sick, if there were any on the island. Howcu was much nearer the little cove where they were seated than was Nahua. On reaching the house of Kalui, Ahleka quickly made known to him the object of their visit. The old man was surprised at the request, for it had been many a year since he had been called upon to assist a loving couple in making this painful avowal of their devotion. Turning to Mabel, he asked, “And can the maiden endure the pain? can she stand the sight of the blood? If she is willing to do this, she does indeed, love Ahleka.”
“Yes,” answered Mabel, “I am determined.”
The bronzed arm of Ahleka was now held firmly in Kalui’s left hand, while in his right he held a little instrument resembling a pair of scissors. He quickly cut a piece of quivering flesh from the arm, above the elbow. Ahleka instantly placed his finger over the bleeding wound. Mabel then extended her arm, at the same time averting her head. In an instant the cruel cut was made, and the dark hued circle from Ahleka’s arm was placed in the wound on Mabel’s arm, which was quickly bound about with soft fibre cloth; then, the little white bit of skin was bound on Ahleka’s arm. Thanking Kalui, they retraced their footsteps to the beach.
“Now Ahleka, do you doubt my love?” enquired Mabel, as they walked slowly back.
“No, I do not doubt you, how could I? but I have a terrible dread of the difference you will see between the young men of your country and myself. They have the advantage of me in education, refinement, in fact in everything.”
“Not in everything, and really, but in very few things; not in refinement, surely, for no refinement can be greater than true manliness. You have been taught to be honest, generous, gentle and just, and no amount of education could make you more fit to be loved, trusted and honored than you are. In the knowledge of books, and in the ways of the world beyond your own beautiful island, you are, to be sure, untaught. But that is a little matter; you can soon learn all you need to know of that.”
“Is it true that you feel so? But still, I fear that when you see me ridiculed and made light of, on account of my ignorance, your heart will grow cold toward me.”
“Never while I live, can that happen, Ahleka. The woman is not worthy the name, who would let the words or actions of others turn her against the man she has promised to love.”
Ahleka bent over her and gently touched his lips to her shining hair. “Ah,” said he, “could any man have sweeter proof of woman’s love than you have given to me!”
They had, by this time, reached the beach where the sailors from the Eliza Judd and the inhabitants of Kaahlanai were collected. As they approached, Captain Gray addressed them, “The task of supplying the Judd with water is about completed. The captain and part of the crew are going over to the village to have dinner with us. Then before sunset, we will return here, whence we will take the boats for the Judd and at last be on our way home.”