The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, September 11, 1898, Page 17

-glory hangs her 1 with blossoms blue and Over his low coral t hibiscus twines and the Pon- upward to the sky. But in his tt ti—tree beloved of all Ha~ and used by the Kahunas in all their doctor of the old Ha- number wite? manifold and h s of so0i 2 powe civil ved in, bel jealous icated to broade and tell you quietly that Ka- sn driver who brin 1 nd offe himself will promise to take to see you. driver of Honolulu g that th 1 charge you f nor you can ps s earthly t this doctc h 1is ra and the dir 1 Kanaka who comes t r read your future in two leaves no more Kahuna than Chris- s not quite so much. > with a little bundle of the awa k 1 nights. the wall of sacred ar of punis , seer, leeples s all th with the —the then, a cup he re = of friend ¢ ath. He can str wood, and ndal Poor innocent tal board ki aud served up 1 woman. I have brought a stirring sound close with my hand against ard me round eet, stupid ive the oly, as she i on the porch as supple, beckoned sunlight sty s the wide por: -hung, palm- ian sits, eats, . in passing, aken by the d 1p the gleam of 1 nged on shelves along the wall; th made from the pricel 3 yws beneath the dark I in wood and stone, and ancient drums, teeth and human air, great polished s, on which the fathers in a ship, from isle to charm, to o destroy t itlines as I pass. T have s relics of the picturesque n other Hawalian homes. My i and Kahaleauki. savage figure cross- the floor. He wears a malo of white h clout, a mere strip of cloth wound . A square of tapa, dyved dull red, is -cornered, like a awl oV his left nd knotted under the left bre On his folded likeéwise, b with the knot above the right te ing over the left cheek. His fa of splendid strength. compelline: his firm, arlet cloth ple and s fine are rd to the chee looks like an cut on a bronze mask; his lips are full, firm s teeth pure, perfect white of cruel regu- rs a beard which is grown very white, . thick mop of black uppn his he: s only tely with white hairs growing few n. He must be very old. His face and wrinkled; but his beautiful, nearly s smooth™and brown as a boy’s. him on the floor lay a mat of tapa, folded r t forth with leaves of the ti, bunches bits of sugar cane, strips of bark, pieces wood, knots of awa root and straw, two Jier than the other, cut rudely from with blunt lips from which to pour a taining spotted seeds, a smooth round, long as a man’s arm, of beautifully curving upw: vood that looks like koa, and at one the tapa a small, smooth, round, black I had been told to look for this stone. When placed b orner of the mat, it lifts the tabu from presence and one may enter, speak, sefore him. But woe to him who seeks 11 lajid by the gods when the speaking his brilliant faith. as a sinner and a int and cold. I grasp my of near, dear, live, human s no manner of means ap- how long I have stood spell of those eves, I creep the Kahuna and sink upon the Y with my poor doomed fowl in little bundle of the awa root in the earer loor before h one hand, my other. Kahaleauki does not speak. He raps on the floor 5 a brown boy comes out into the ,ps beside me on the floor. He will in- 1e, he explains, smiling in the security of r h the compelling eyes. He tells me al wood upon the tapa mat Kaha- ltrikes death fire that will travel hundreds of to kill: and with the two pieces of sandal bark, me eut from the right and one from the left side of o brews a drink and a lotion that if taken nd d within three davs will prove an antidote. ym the other barks he brews potions to cure or to om the manu-mele, the striped red and Y ane. and a few of the little spotted milo seeds orks a love charm; with the pili-mai. the white and a drink brewed from the laukalu rings back wandering love. The smooth :tick is the Kauwila. the Kahuna's stick, v v sed upward from his hand toward the yds, in the presence of the one he wishes to destroy,™®rings a curse down upon him when it falls. KAHALEAUKI SITS A WILD, Other curses, that of the death fire, of mad even The truth is, I am not. I have a womanish fear. of death by prayer, may be lifted by other Kahunas; = I fear the potent eyes of Kahaleauki. I fear the no modulation but the cu of the Kauwila is supreme with the strange, cool, sluggish't pon my blood. voice. gods and only he who casts it out can with the gods’ broods place. The sun permission call it back. ahu-awa in steeped in of straw, which, dipped hands, catch all the fibe And all these thing: chantin — \ h the and st wh water when hrough nd sque awa root g over the ahu-awa, wherein s SHR \\ — N The cocoanut bowls were the chewed the bunches and leave the liquid pure. must be done with pr. gns of all sorts = N iy 7 Wil AL e § |)| l,v\' il T it close the solitary, pa against the coral wall. * The brown boy speaks ti a sign of assent. d by the r and also are read. And no Kahu breathes between the “He will measures of -his prayer. Th hi chant comes chew the aw to him by r by her for Kahaleauki ‘throws his born not mz prayers and power Is twic pray over man. Fi as nestles E brought before the student in the gentle art of pray- nd then the and char ed before in trustful ignorance on my Kahunas are > permitted to a hen—just such a hapless fowl ed in the d their his outspread hands. teeth. The prayer begins: ia ka al eku makua ahu ula aka pili pili aka knees: g ouluku omaka alahia omo ing things to death. If the bird falls beneath the spell the student goes up on to a mountain rock and wehe okanwe ma ke kua prays vay the stones. If th nble before ana ekuko ana elia ana him it is known that the gc to have him work their will for good or ¢ 3 After having told m2 al these strange things with the eyes of Kahaleauki upon us both, the brown boy aski me if T am ready to begin. ce. apeloaku!” It is spoken thus, as I 7 "\um%l‘i’“lllhw by the vine-shrouded windows through which assionate hibiscus burns “and burns pray the love prayer for you before I His full lips part over his cruel ia kea okolo pua okolo anuenue o ahu na po aao ae omakan] keae ahono ahh ahh ika pill ana he mau kane ma nuuhina aka hina ia ake kapu mystic Kahuna book of prayer on which the eyes of the unanointed have seldom 7 SN = & E A £ =3 Zy % SAN FRANCISCO, SUNDAY, Y | ¢ — SEPTEMBER 11, 1898, \"\ 5 v Ar‘\‘; e e I PRIV LA i AT, i -(\“.,‘ (X ,..:\t g il s overhung with in the laual except com pause in the breathless flow of soft short sy the veice of Pele burning in her hills. s in answer to that call must be a strange, un- holy thing. “It means nothin ‘\‘."kl il A i i AS » LicE Rix in the single tone of Kahaleau! The love th: ,” says the brown boy, ‘“becau lable: It was like the deep voice of the surf pounding on the shore, like the sullen roar of fire caged, like at se it was not done over the awa and because there is o the Kahuna, who makes seeds. body forward, resting on root.” But I was glad that it was done. “Now,” said the brown boy, “give him your awa I put forward the littie bundle I had brought. no woman to eat the sugar cane and the little milo Kahaleauki touched the smooth, black stone and it elono makua omaa kua ija hina hina oka helona aka okuko alia e ole aka po mae iho iko cast. the ai ake loha make alo e aha e uluku ana emakala hia rest. have copied it, from the looked. There is no was swallowed in his hand. Spreading it wide in his brown fingers, still supple as a chiid’s, the Kahuna Kahaleauki read in root laid it before hi i upon it the smooth black stone was there beside the I shivered and awoke my_hen. and I stroked it with my Judas hand. spoke to the brown boy and the brown boy translated him to me. “Night falls on Hawaii nei and she sleeps. The spell of silence w story of my sleepl nights. on the tapa square 2 Kahaleau On s He wnd as I looked It struggled feebly ki 1y e3=3-2-B-F-R-2-2-2-3-3-F-F-F-3-3-F-F-F-2-R-F-3-F-F-F-F-F-F-FoF-F-FoF - FoF-F-F-F-R-FoF-FoF-FoF-FoF-F-FoR- 2o R 3-2-F-F-F-3-F-F-3-3-2-3-3-F-3-F-F-2.4 NEW PENSION LIST OF THE WAR. Filed and They’re All Waiting Their Turp. What Applicants Must Do When They Present Their Claims and the Amounts the Government Allows Its Dependent Soldiers. j=g=B=8--8-F-3-3-F-F-F-F-F-F-F -FoF-FoFoRoFogeFoRF-RaFoF-FoF-R=F-F-F-FoRoF =g =F ] The First Applications Have Been HE war record of the late Priv- ate William H. Hook of Wiscon- sin forms an exact counterpart to the career of Solomon Grundy, who was born on Monday, chris- tened on Tuesday, married on Wednesday, filled out the remainder of his checkered carcer and died on the following Sunday. Private Hook enlisted for the war on Thursday, went into camp on Friday, fell i1l on Saturday, died on Sunday, and on the following Wednesday his widow went before a magistrate and executed an application for a pension. Mr. Hook enlisted on May 12, at Mil- waukee, Wisconsin. On the 13th he went into camp at Camp Harv near Milwaukee. On the 15th he died. On the 18th his widow, Lida M. Hook, exe- cuted her pension application, and on the 1st of June it was filed in the Pen- sion Office. She was the first applicant for a pen- sion growing out of the pending war with Spain. The witnesses to her ap- plication are Steven Hook and Henry Hinkel. She gives her age as 24, and her address at 275 Ceape street, Osh- kosh, Wisconsin. Her husband was a member of Company F, Second Wis- consin Infantry. He was born in England and was the son of Richard Hook. At the time of his enlistment he was a mill hand in Oshkosh. Mrs. Hook’s father was a Mr. Morrell, and her mother bore the poetical name of Jennie Van Dorne. The application, with a number of others, is in the office of the chief clerk of the Bureau of Pensions, where all await the completion of the records necessary to their adjudication. Up to date about a hundred applications have come in, and for the present all sleep together. All pension applica- tions have to be referred to the War Department for the record of the sol- dier involved. The muster rolls of the recent volunteer army are not yet in, and the records of the soldiers are very incomplete. Until these records are in better shape, which may be several months, the Pension Office is héld at a standstill in the adjudication of appli- cations growing out of the existing war. The Pension Office has plenty of work to do, however, as Commissioner Evans remarked to me a shert while ago, because there are pending in that bureau €35,000 old applications. These include applications for original pen- sions, increases, accrued and new disa- bilities. As soon as the official records will al- low a new division will,be created to handle the applications growing out of the Spanish-American war, work will be begun upon them and the records of them will be kept separate from the other records of the Pension Bu- reau. The creation of a division to handle this class of pensions will not involve any increase in the Pension Office force. That force was fixed by the law which went into effect on July 1. The new di- vision will be made up of clerks de- tailed from old divisions. A good number of the new applica- tions now in come from the navy. The ships represented are the Winslow, the Hugh McCulloch, the Richmond, the St. Paui, the Charleston, the Newark, the Vesuvius, the Yankee, the Marble- head, the Olympia, the Pompeii, the Verniont, the ‘Marion, the Saturn, the ‘Wabash, the Puritan, the Iowa and the Brooklyn, The list is somewhat indica- tive of the ships that have been en- gaged in the various mix-ups. The pension applications indicate that Elfjah B. Tunnell, who was killed on board the Winslow in Cardenas har- bor, was not only a good sailor, but an important man to his people. His widow, Eliza J. Tunnell, follows Mrs. Hook as second on the Hst of appli- cants. A little further down the list comes Sarah Tunnell, who claims a pension as the dependent mother of Elijah B. In the investigation to fol- low the claim of the widow will be first considered. Frank Randall, the late chief engineer of the Hugh McCulloch, furnishes another instance of double applications. His mother and his minor children have applied for pensions on account of his death. Two applications have come in from the Richmond, Oscar L. Rose, as an in- valid sallor, and Margaret Walker, the widow of Charles W. Walker. The tragic death on the Brooklyn, the only death to occur in the famous de- struction of Cervera's fleet, is already recorded in the Pension Office. It will be remembered that George H. Ellis, while standing within two feet of Com- modore Schley during the memorable chase of the Cristobal Colon, had his head taken off by a shell. The instance ‘was mentioned in Commodore Schley's report to Admiral Sampson, except that the modest commodore did not in- timate that but for the accident of a few inches of space the shell might have taken off his own head instead of that of Chief Yeoman Ellis. Ellis was enrolled on the Brooklyn as chief yeoman on May 3, 1897, in the city of Brooklyn, Kings County, N. Y. The application for a pension was made by his widow, a young woman of 22, be- fore a notary in Brooklyn on July 13 and filed in the Pension Office July 14. It states that her husband “died at Santiago July 3, 1898, struck by a shell.” John G. Switzenich applies for a pen- sion as the dependent father of Ernest Switzenich, who lost his life on the Marblehead. Among the applicants for invalid pensions are Charles McCarthy of th- Vesuvius, Thomas Devine of the Ma- rion, Charles Lowry of the Saturn and James Quinney of the Wabash. The only high officer of the army in whose name a pension has been asked is Lieutenant Colonel John M. Hamil- ton of the Ninth United States Ca alry. The application is made by his widow, Isabel Bowie Hamilton, and it states in thrilling phrase that he was killed July 1 at the head of his com- mand while storming a hill at San- Juan. It is noticeable that so far not an ap- plication has been received on account of ‘any of Roosevelt's Rough Riders, who experienced the heaviest loss of the war while driving the Spaniards back into Santiago. . ‘While only a hundred pension appli- Continued on Page 26. feBeReFeFaRaFoFaPePFuPeFoPuFaPuPeePaFaF FuFaipegePaFeReFagegeRegegaRaFagagayel IMPRESSIVE, SAVAGE FIGURE, CROSS-LEGGED UPON THE FLOOR. The awa will tell.” e. I could not close heavy, weighted by the foreign woman lies The eyes of Kahaleau mine and yet they felt something that was not sleep “Now,” said the brown boy, the awa.” “he says I must chew But I had not heard him speak. I saw the stone was gone againafrom the corner of.the tapa mat. Kahaleauki fell forward in the position of Kahuna His smooth brown legs cr prayer. his s ad, his fingers resting on The lids 5 breath. The red of the cloth upon light from the returning sun and c glow over his immobile mask. He sat like a thing of bronze. And the brown boy beside him chewed and chewed the awa root. As he chewed he swallowed the juice, which is the essence of dreams and drunken ecstasies, and cast the pulp from his mouth into the larger ahu awa on the mat. . And there w enough he poured water over it and taking a nch of the straw he rolled it between his har and dipped it into the cup in which the fluid had gathered the color and consis cy of muddy coffee and squeezed it about like a sponge and wrung it out nearly dry with the partitles of the awa root clingi 1l over it; these he shook off and dipped and squeezed the straw again and again until the liquid pure remained in the awa cup. The Kahuna raised his eyes. from the tapa and stripped a thin piece from its center and dipped it in the awa cup. Then he laid it, wet, into the smaller cup and poured the awa from the other over it. Then he returned to the posture of prayer and began again that breathless chant. No, not that—another. This monotone was’ vibrant with meaning, vitality, force, fire, all that the other, dreadful as it was, had lacked. It surged, a single exhalation, above the awa cup and watching, liste always, I saw the bubbles rise. The huna rocked and swayed. The light was on his face that never was on land or sea. My head swam, my hands shook. I said to myself, “It is the pow: this sound.” But I did not know then what power it was nor do I now. He took a ti leaf The prayer ceased. The stone was gone. The Kahuna spoke. The brown boy translated. ““The foreign woman has enemi A curse is laid on her pillow to keep sleep away. The awa t ki stretches out his hands toward the awa.’ ves are fixed upon the hen that lies across The stone X brown boy sits his calm, on his master’s face. It shows neither fear nor expectancy. My own I know is filled with both. The Kahuna sounds his dreadful note. He has fallen forward, praying, on his hands. His baleful eyes glow closer to the bird. His lips curl upward from his teeth. They gleam white upon white against his beard. His head rocks to and fro, his body sways between his rigid arms, his supple fingers bent upon the floor. Something crawls over mee, stopping the beat of my heart, chilling the breath in my nostrils. I feel a weight on my temples, a weight on my breast, a weight on my nerveless hands. I long to out and I cannot. I long to rise and I cannot. Then all long- ing passes away. I think that I am sleeping and I do not care to wake. J think that I am dying and I do not care to live. Sound, sound, sound! It is all that I am conscious of. And slowly I come to know that this sound has ceased. I hear nothing but I see again. I see the Kahuna sitting cross-legged before his tapa mat, drinking the awa from the bowl. I see the brown. boy with his soft, calm glance upon his master’s face. I feel the blood returning to my heart, the warmth to my hands. I can rise easily now, I think, and I am mad to be gone. I stir siightly and slip back again. The brown boy gives me his hands and I rise unsteadily to my feet. Something falls from my skirts. 1 look down and see the hen lying dead upon the floor. Kknees. motionles: my