Koolau the Leper
"Because we are sick they take away our liberty. We have obeyed thelaw. We have done no wrong. And yet they would put us in prison.Molokai is a prison. That you know. Niuli, there, his sister wassent to Molokai seven years ago. He has not seen her since. Norwill he ever see her. She must stay there until she dies. This isnot her will. It is not Niuli's will. It is the will of the whitemen who rule the land. And who are these white men?"We know. We have it from our fathers and our fathers' fathers.They came like lambs, speaking softly. Well might they speaksoftly, for we were many and strong, and all the islands were ours.As I say, they spoke softly. They were of two kinds. The one kindasked our permission, our gracious permission, to preach to us theword of God. The other kind asked our permission, our graciouspermission, to trade with us. That was the beginning. Today allthe islands are theirs, all the land, all the cattle--everything istheirs. They that preached the word of God and they that preachedthe word of Rum have fore-gathered and become great chiefs. Theylive like kings in houses of many rooms, with multitudes of servantsto care for them. They who had nothing have everything, and if you,or I, or any Kanaka be hungry, they sneer and say, 'Well, why don'tyou work? There are the plantations.'Koolau paused. He raised one hand, and with gnarled and twistedfingers lifted up the blazing wreath of hibiscus that crowned hisblack hair. The moonlight bathed the scene in silver. It was anight of peace, though those who sat about him and listened had allthe seeming of battle-wrecks. Their faces were leonine. Here aspace yawned in a face where should have been a nose, and there anarm-stump showed where a hand had rotted off. They were men andwomen beyond the pale, the thirty of them, for upon them had beenplaced the mark of the beast.They sat, flower-garlanded, in the perfumed, luminous night, andtheir lips made uncouth noises and their throats rasped approval ofKoolau's speech. They were creatures who once had been men andwomen. But they were men and women no longer. They were monsters--in face and form grotesque caricatures of everything human. Theywere hideously maimed and distorted, and had the seeming ofcreatures that had been racked in millenniums of hell. Their hands,when they possessed them, were like harpy claws. Their faces werethe misfits and slips, crushed and bruised by some mad god at playin the machinery of life. Here and there were features which themad god had smeared half away, and one woman wept scalding tearsfrom twin pits of horror, where her eyes once had been. Some werein pain and groaned from their chests. Others coughed, makingsounds like the tearing of tissue. Two were idiots, more like hugeapes marred in the making, until even an ape were an angel. Theymowed and gibbered in the moonlight, under crowns of drooping,golden blossoms. One, whose bloated ear-lobe flapped like a fanupon his shoulder, caught up a gorgeous flower of orange and scarletand with it decorated the monstrous ear that flip-flapped with hisevery movement.And over these things Koolau was king. And this was his kingdom,--aflower-throttled gorge, with beetling cliffs and crags, from whichfloated the blattings of wild goats. On three sides the grim wallsrose, festooned in fantastic draperies of tropic vegetation andpierced by cave-entrances--the rocky lairs of Koolau's subjects. Onthe fourth side the earth fell away into a tremendous abyss, and,far below, could be seen the summits of lesser peaks and crags, atwhose bases foamed and rumbled the Pacific surge. In fine weather aboat could land on the rocky beach that marked the entrance ofKalalau Valley, but the weather must be very fine. And a cool-headed mountaineer might climb from the beach to the head of KalalauValley, to this pocket among the peaks where Koolau ruled; but sucha mountaineer must be very cool of head, and he must know the wild-goat trails as well. The marvel was that the mass of human wreckagethat constituted Koolau's people should have been able to drag itshelpless misery over the giddy goat-trails to this inaccessiblespot."Brothers," Koolau began.But one of the mowing, apelike travesties emitted a wild shriek ofmadness, and Koolau waited while the shrill cachination was tossedback and forth among the rocky walls and echoed distantly throughthe pulseless night."Brothers, is it not strange? Ours was the land, and behold, theland is not ours. What did these preachers of the word of God andthe word of Rum give us for the land? Have you received one dollar,as much as one dollar, any one of you, for the land? Yet it istheirs, and in return they tell us we can go to work on the land,their land, and that what we produce by our toil shall be theirs.Yet in the old days we did not have to work. Also, when we aresick, they take away our freedom.""Who brought the sickness, Koolau?" demanded Kiloliana, a lean andwiry man with a face so like a laughing faun's that one might expectto see the cloven hoofs under him. They were cloven, it was true,but the cleavages were great ulcers and livid putrefactions. Yetthis was Kiloliana, the most daring climber of them all, the man whoknew every goat-trail and who had led Koolau and his wretchedfollowers into the recesses of Kalalau."Ay, well questioned," Koolau answered. "Because we would not workthe miles of sugar-cane where once our horses pastured, they broughtthe Chinese slaves from overseas. And with them came the Chinesesickness--that which we suffer from and because of which they wouldimprison us on Molokai. We were born on Kauai. We have been to theother islands, some here and some there, to Oahu, to Maui, toHawaii, to Honolulu. Yet always did we come back to Kauai. Why didwe come back? There must be a reason. Because we love Kauai. Wewere born here. Here we have lived. And here shall we die--unless--unless--there be weak hearts amongst us. Such we do not want.They are fit for Molokai. And if there be such, let them notremain. Tomorrow the soldiers land on the shore. Let the weakhearts go down to them. They will be sent swiftly to Molokai. Asfor us, we shall stay and fight. But know that we will not die. Wehave rifles. You know the narrow trails where men must creep, oneby one. I, alone, Koolau, who was once a cowboy on Niihau, can holdthe trail against a thousand men. Here is Kapalei, who was once ajudge over men and a man with honour, but who is now a hunted rat,like you and me. Hear him. He is wise."Kapalei arose. Once he had been a judge. He had gone to college atPunahou. He had sat at meat with lords and chiefs and the highrepresentatives of alien powers who protected the interests oftraders and missionaries. Such had been Kapalei. But now, asKoolau had said, he was a hunted rat, a creature outside the law,sunk so deep in the mire of human horror that he was above the lawas well as beneath it. His face was featureless, save for gapingorifices and for the lidless eyes that burned under hairless brows."Let us not make trouble," he began. "We ask to be left alone. Butif they do not leave us alone, then is the trouble theirs and thepenalty. My fingers are gone, as you see." He held up his stumpsof hands that all might see. "Yet have I the joint of one thumbleft, and it can pull a trigger as firmly as did its lost neighbourin the old days. We love Kauai. Let us live here, or die here, butdo not let us go to the prison of Molokai. The sickness is notours. We have not sinned. The men who preached the word of God andthe word of Rum brought the sickness with the coolie slaves who workthe stolen land. I have been a judge. I know the law and thejustice, and I say to you it is unjust to steal a man's land, tomake that man sick with the Chinese sickness, and then to put thatman in prison for life.""Life is short, and the days are filled with pain," said Koolau."Let us drink and dance and be happy as we can."From one of the rocky lairs calabashes were produced and passedround. The calabashes were filled with the fierce distillation ofthe root of the ti-plant; and as the liquid fire coursed throughthem and mounted to their brains, they forgot that they had oncebeen men and women, for they were men and women once more. Thewoman who wept scalding tears from open eye-pits was indeed a womanapulse with life as she plucked the strings of an ukulele and liftedher voice in a barbaric love-call such as might have come from thedark forest-depths of the primeval world. The air tingled with hercry, softly imperious and seductive. Upon a mat, timing his rhythmto the woman's song Kiloliana danced. It was unmistakable. Lovedanced in all his movements, and, next, dancing with him on the mat,was a woman whose heavy hips and generous breast gave the lie to herdisease-corroded face. It was a dance of the living dead, for intheir disintegrating bodies life still loved and longed. Ever thewoman whose sightless eyes ran scalding tears chanted her love-cry,ever the dancers of love danced in the warm night, and ever thecalabashes went around till in all their brains were maggotscrawling of memory and desire. And with the woman on the mat danceda slender maid whose face was beautiful and unmarred, but whosetwisted arms that rose and fell marked the disease's ravage. Andthe two idiots, gibbering and mouthing strange noises, danced apart,grotesque, fantastic, travestying love as they themselves had beentravestied by life.But the woman's love-cry broke midway, the calabashes were lowered,and the dancers ceased, as all gazed into the abyss above the sea,where a rocket flared like a wan phantom through the moonlit air."It is the soldiers," said Koolau. "Tomorrow there will befighting. It is well to sleep and be prepared."The lepers obeyed, crawling away to their lairs in the cliff, untilonly Koolau remained, sitting motionless in the moonlight, his rifleacross his knees, as he gazed far down to the boats landing on thebeach.The far head of Kalalau Valley had been well chosen as a refuge.Except Kiloliana, who knew back-trails up the precipitous walls, noman could win to the gorge save by advancing across a knife-edgedridge. This passage was a hundred yards in length. At best, it wasa scant twelve inches wide. On either side yawned the abyss. Aslip, and to right or left the man would fall to his death. Butonce across he would find himself in an earthly paradise. A sea ofvegetation laved the landscape, pouring its green billows from wallto wall, dripping from the cliff-lips in great vine-masses, andflinging a spray of ferns and air-plants in to the multitudinouscrevices. During the many months of Koolau's rule, he and hisfollowers had fought with this vegetable sea. The choking jungle,with its riot of blossoms, had been driven back from the bananas,oranges, and mangoes that grew wild. In little clearings grew thewild arrowroot; on stone terraces, filled with soil scrapings, werethe taro patches and the melons; and in every open space where thesunshine penetrated were papaia trees burdened with their goldenfruit.Koolau had been driven to this refuge from the lower valley by thebeach. And if he were driven from it in turn, he knew of gorgesamong the jumbled peaks of the inner fastnesses where he could leadhis subjects and live. And now he lay with his rifle beside him,peering down through a tangled screen of foliage at the soldiers onthe beach. He noted that they had large guns with them, from whichthe sunshine flashed as from mirrors. The knife-edged passage laydirectly before him. Crawling upward along the trail that led to ithe could see tiny specks of men. He knew they were not thesoldiers, but the police. When they failed, then the soldiers wouldenter the game.He affectionately rubbed a twisted hand along his rifle barrel andmade sure that the sights were clean. He had learned to shoot as awild-cattle hunter on Niihau, and on that island his skill as amarksman was unforgotten. As the toiling specks of men grew nearerand larger, he estimated the range, judged the deflection of thewind that swept at right angles across the line of fire, andcalculated the chances of overshooting marks that were so far belowhis level. But he did not shoot. Not until they reached thebeginning of the passage did he make his presence known. He did notdisclose himself, but spoke from the thicket."What do you want?" he demanded."We want Koolau, the leper," answered the man who led the nativepolice, himself a blue-eyed American."You must go back," Koolau said.He knew the man, a deputy sheriff, for it was by him that he hadbeen harried out of Niihau, across Kauai, to Kalalau Valley, and outof the valley to the gorge."Who are you?" the sheriff asked."I am Koolau, the leper," was the reply."Then come out. We want you. Dead or alive, there is a thousanddollars on your head. You cannot escape."Koolau laughed aloud in the thicket."Come out!" the sheriff commanded, and was answered by silence.He conferred with the police, and Koolau saw that they werepreparing to rush him."Koolau," the sheriff called. "Koolau, I am coming across to getyou.""Then look first and well about you at the sun and sea and sky, forit will be the last time you behold them.""That's all right, Koolau," the sheriff said soothingly. "I knowyou're a dead shot. But you won't shoot me. I have never done youany wrong."Koolau grunted in the thicket."I say, you know, I've never done you any wrong, have I?" thesheriff persisted."You do me wrong when you try to put me in prison," was the reply."And you do me wrong when you try for the thousand dollars on myhead. If you will live, stay where you are.""I've got to come across and get you. I'm sorry. But it is myduty.""You will die before you get across."The sheriff was no coward. Yet was he undecided. He gazed into thegulf on either side and ran his eyes along the knife-edge he musttravel. Then he made up his mind."Koolau," he called.But the thicket remained silent."Koolau, don't shoot. I am coming."The sheriff turned, gave some orders to the police, then started onhis perilous way. He advanced slowly. It was like walking a tightrope. He had nothing to lean upon but the air. The lava rockcrumbled under his feet, and on either side the dislodged fragmentspitched downward through the depths. The sun blazed upon him, andhis face was wet with sweat. Still he advanced, until the halfwaypoint was reached."Stop!" Koolau commanded from the thicket. "One more step and Ishoot."The sheriff halted, swaying for balance as he stood poised above thevoid. His face was pale, but his eyes were determined. He lickedhis dry lips before he spoke."Koolau, you won't shoot me. I know you won't."He started once more. The bullet whirled him half about. On hisface was an expression of querulous surprise as he reeled to thefall. He tried to save himself by throwing his body across theknife-edge; but at that moment he knew death. The next moment theknife-edge was vacant. Then came the rush, five policemen, insingle file, with superb steadiness, running along the knife-edge.At the same instant the rest of the posse opened fire on thethicket. It was madness. Five times Koolau pulled the trigger, sorapidly that his shots constituted a rattle. Changing his positionand crouching low under the bullets that were biting and singingthrough the bushes, he peered out. Four of the police had followedthe sheriff. The fifth lay across the knife-edge still alive. Onthe farther side, no longer firing, were the surviving police. Onthe naked rock there was no hope for them. Before they couldclamber down Koolau could have picked off the last man. But he didnot fire, and, after a conference, one of them took off a whiteundershirt and waved it as a flag. Followed by another, he advancedalong the knife-edge to their wounded comrade. Koolau gave no sign,but watched them slowly withdraw and become specks as they descendedinto the lower valley.Two hours later, from another thicket, Koolau watched a body ofpolice trying to make the ascent from the opposite side of thevalley. He saw the wild goats flee before them as they climbedhigher and higher, until he doubted his judgment and sent forKiloliana, who crawled in beside him."No, there is no way," said Kiloliana."The goats?" Koolau questioned."They come over from the next valley, but they cannot pass to this.There is no way. Those men are not wiser than goats. They may fallto their deaths. Let us watch.""They are brave men," said Koolau. "Let us watch."Side by side they lay among the morning-glories, with the yellowblossoms of the hau dropping upon them from overhead, watching themotes of men toil upward, till the thing happened, and three ofthem, slipping, rolling, sliding, dashed over a cliff-lip and fellsheer half a thousand feet.Kiloliana chuckled."We will be bothered no more," he said."They have war guns," Koolau made answer. "The soldiers have notyet spoken."In the drowsy afternoon, most of the lepers lay in their rock densasleep. Koolau, his rifle on his knees, fresh-cleaned and ready,dozed in the entrance to his own den. The maid with the twistedarms lay below in the thicket and kept watch on the knife-edgepassage. Suddenly Koolau was startled wide awake by the sound of anexplosion on the beach. The next instant the atmosphere wasincredibly rent asunder. The terrible sound frightened him. It wasas if all the gods had caught the envelope of the sky in their handsand were ripping it apart as a woman rips apart a sheet of cottoncloth. But it was such an immense ripping, growing swiftly nearer.Koolau glanced up apprehensively, as if expecting to see the thing.Then high up on the cliff overhead the shell burst in a fountain ofblack smoke. The rock was shattered, the fragments falling to thefoot of the cliff.Koolau passed his hand across his sweaty brow. He was terriblyshaken. He had had no experience with shell-fire, and this was moredreadful than anything he had imagined."One," said Kapahei, suddenly bethinking himself to keep count.A second and a third shell flew screaming over the top of the wall,bursting beyond view. Kapahei methodically kept the count. Thelepers crowded into the open space before the caves. At first theywere frightened, but as the shells continued their flight overheadthe leper folk became reassured and began to admire the spectacle.The two idiots shrieked with delight, prancing wild antics as eachair-tormenting shell went by. Koolau began to recover hisconfidence. No damage was being done. Evidently they could not aimsuch large missiles at such long range with the precision of arifle.But a change came over the situation. The shells began to fallshort. One burst below in the thicket by the knife-edge. Koolauremembered the maid who lay there on watch, and ran down to see.The smoke was still rising from the bushes when he crawled in. Hewas astounded. The branches were splintered and broken. Where thegirl had lain was a hole in the ground. The girl herself was inshattered fragments. The shell had burst right on her.First peering out to make sure no soldiers were attempting thepassage, Koolau started back on the run for the caves. All the timethe shells were moaning, whining, screaming by, and the valley wasrumbling and reverberating with the explosions. As he came in sightof the caves, he saw the two idiots cavorting about, clutching eachother's hands with their stumps of fingers. Even as he ran, Koolausaw a spout of black smoke rise from the ground, near to the idiots.They were flung apart bodily by the explosion. One lay motionless,but the other was dragging himself by his hands toward the cave.His legs trailed out helplessly behind him, while the blood waspouring from his body. He seemed bathed in blood, and as he crawledhe cried like a little dog. The rest of the lepers, with theexception of Kapahei, had fled into the caves."Seventeen," said Kapahei. "Eighteen," he added.This last shell had fairly entered into one of the caves. Theexplosion caused the caves to empty. But from the particular caveno one emerged. Koolau crept in through the pungent, acrid smoke.Four bodies, frightfully mangled, lay about. One of them was thesightless woman whose tears till now had never ceased.Outside, Koolau found his people in a panic and already beginning toclimb the goat-trail that led out of the gorge and on among thejumbled heights and chasms. The wounded idiot, whining feebly anddragging himself along on the ground by his hands, was trying tofollow. But at the first pitch of the wall his helplessnessovercame him and he fell back."It would be better to kill him," said Koolau to Kapahei, who stillsat in the same place."Twenty-two," Kapahei answered. "Yes, it would be a wise thing tokill him. Twenty-three--twenty-four."The idiot whined sharply when he saw the rifle levelled at him.Koolau hesitated, then lowered the gun."It is a hard thing to do," he said."You are a fool, twenty-six, twenty-seven," said Kapahei. "Let meshow you."He arose, and with a heavy fragment of rock in his hand, approachedthe wounded thing. As he lifted his arm to strike, a shell burstfull upon him, relieving him of the necessity of the act and at thesame time putting an end to his count.Koolau was alone in the gorge. He watched the last of his peopledrag their crippled bodies over the brow of the height anddisappear. Then he turned and went down to the thicket where themaid had keen killed. The shell-fire still continued, but heremained; for far below he could see the soldiers climbing up. Ashell burst twenty feet away. Flattening himself into the earth, heheard the rush of the fragments above his body. A shower of haublossoms rained upon him. He lifted his head to peer down thetrail, and sighed. He was very much afraid. Bullets from rifleswould not have worried him, but this shell-fire was abominable.Each time a shell shrieked by he shivered and crouched; but eachtime he lifted his head again to watch the trail.At last the shells ceased. This, he reasoned, was because thesoldiers were drawing near. They crept along the trail in singlefile, and he tried to count them until he lost track. At any rate,there were a hundred or so of them--all come after Koolau the leper.He felt a fleeting prod of pride. With war guns and rifles, policeand soldiers, they came for him, and he was only one man, a crippledwreck of a man at that. They offered a thousand dollars for him,dead or alive. In all his life he had never possessed that muchmoney. The thought was a bitter one. Kapahei had been right. He,Koolau, had done no wrong. Because the haoles wanted labour withwhich to work the stolen land, they had brought in the Chinesecoolies, and with them had come the sickness. And now, because hehad caught the sickness, he was worth a thousand dollars--but not tohimself. It was his worthless carcass, rotten with disease or deadfrom a bursting shell, that was worth all that money.When the soldiers reached the knife-edged passage, he was promptedto warn them. But his gaze fell upon the body of the murdered maid,and he kept silent. When six had ventured on the knife-edge, heopened fire. Nor did he cease when the knife-edge was bare. Heemptied his magazine, reloaded, and emptied it again. He kept onshooting. All his wrongs were blazing in his brain, and he was in afury of vengeance. All down the goat-trail the soldiers werefiring, and though they lay flat and sought to shelter themselves inthe shallow inequalities of the surface, they were exposed marks tohim. Bullets whistled and thudded about him, and an occasionalricochet sang sharply through the air. One bullet ploughed a creasethrough his scalp, and a second burned across his shoulder-bladewithout breaking the skin.It was a massacre, in which one man did the killing. The soldiersbegan to retreat, helping along their wounded. As Koolau pickedthem off he became aware of the smell of burnt meat. He glancedabout him at first, and then discovered that it was his own hands.The heat of the rifle was doing it. The leprosy had destroyed mostof the nerves in his hands. Though his flesh burned and he smelledit, there was no sensation.He lay in the thicket, smiling, until he remembered the war guns.Without doubt they would open upon him again, and this time upon thevery thicket from which he had inflicted the danger. Scarcely hadhe changed his position to a nook behind a small shoulder of thewall where he had noted that no shells fell, than the bombardmentrecommenced. He counted the shells. Sixty more were thrown intothe gorge before the war-guns ceased. The tiny area was pitted withtheir explosions, until it seemed impossible that any creature couldhave survived. So the soldiers thought, for, under the burningafternoon sun, they climbed the goat-trail again. And again theknife-edged passage was disputed, and again they fell back to thebeach.For two days longer Koolau held the passage, though the soldierscontented themselves with flinging shells into his retreat. ThenPahau, a leper boy, came to the top of the wall at the back of thegorge and shouted down to him that Kiloliana, hunting goats thatthey might eat, had been killed by a fall, and that the women werefrightened and knew not what to do. Koolau called the boy down andleft him with a spare gun with which to guard the passage. Koolaufound his people disheartened. The majority of them were toohelpless to forage food for themselves under such forbiddingcircumstances, and all were starving. He selected two women and aman who were not too far gone with the disease, and sent them backto the gorge to bring up food and mats. The rest he cheered andconsoled until even the weakest took a hand in building roughshelters for themselves.But those he had dispatched for food did not return, and he startedback for the gorge. As he came out on the brow of the wall, half adozen rifles cracked. A bullet tore through the fleshy part of hisshoulder, and his cheek was cut by a sliver of rock where a secondbullet smashed against the cliff. In the moment that this happened,and he leaped back, he saw that the gorge was alive with soldiers.His own people had betrayed him. The shell-fire had been tooterrible, and they had preferred the prison of Molokai.Koolau dropped back and unslung one of his heavy cartridge-belts.Lying among the rocks, he allowed the head and shoulders of thefirst soldier to rise clearly into view before pulling trigger.Twice this happened, and then, after some delay, in place of a headand shoulders a white flag was thrust above the edge of the wall."What do you want?" be demanded."I want you, if you are Koolau the leper," came the answer.Koolau forgot where he was, forgot everything, as he lay andmarvelled at the strange persistence of these haoles who would havetheir will though the sky fell in. Aye, they would have their willover all men and all things, even though they died in getting it.He could not but admire them, too, what of that will in them thatwas stronger than life and that bent all things to their bidding.He was convinced of the hopelessness of his struggle. There was nogainsaying that terrible will of the haoles. Though he killed athousand, yet would they rise like the sands of the sea and comeupon him, ever more and more. They never knew when they werebeaten. That was their fault and their virtue. It was where hisown kind lacked. He could see, now, how the handful of thepreachers of God and the preachers of Rum had conquered the land.It was because -"Well, what have you got to say? Will you come with me?"It was he voice of the invisible man under the white flag. There hewas, like any haole, driving straight toward the end determined."Let us talk," said Koolau.The man's head and shoulders arose, then his whole body. He was asmooth-faced, blue-eyed youngster of twenty-five, slender and nattyin his captain's uniform. He advanced until halted, then seatedhimself a dozen feet away."You are a brave man," said Koolau wonderingly. "I could kill youlike a fly.""No, you couldn't," was the answer."Why not?""Because you are a man, Koolau, though a bad one. I know yourstory. You kill fairly."Koolau grunted, but was secretly pleased."What have you done with my people?" he demanded. "The boy, the twowomen, and the man?""They gave themselves up, as I have now come for you to do."Koolau laughed incredulously."I am a free man," he announced. "I have done no wrong. All I askis to be left alone. I have lived free, and I shall die free. Iwill never give myself up.""Then your people are wiser than you," answered the young captain."Look--they are coming now."Koolau turned and watched the remnant of his band approach.Groaning and sighing, a ghastly procession, it dragged itswretchedness past. It was given to Koolau to taste a deeperbitterness, for they hurled imprecations and insults at him as theywent by; and the panting hag who brought up the rear halted, andwith skinny, harpy-claws extended, shaking her snarling death's headfrom side to side, she laid a curse upon him. One by one theydropped over the lip-edge and surrendered to the hiding soldiers."You can go now," said Koolau to the captain. "I will never givemyself up. That is my last word. Good-bye."The captain slipped over the cliff to his soldiers. The nextmoment, and without a flag of truce, he hoisted his hat on hisscabbard, and Koolau's bullet tore through it. That afternoon theyshelled him out from the beach, and as he retreated into the highinaccessible pockets beyond, the soldiers followed him.For six weeks they hunted him from pocket to pocket, over thevolcanic peaks and along the goat-trails. When he hid in thelantana jungle, they formed lines of beaters, and through lantanajungle and guava scrub they drove him like a rabbit. But ever heturned and doubled and eluded. There was no cornering him. Whenpressed too closely, his sure rifle held them back and they carriedtheir wounded down the goat-trails to the beach. There were timeswhen they did the shooting as his brown body showed for a momentthrough the underbrush. Once, five of them caught him on an exposedgoat-trail between pockets. They emptied their rifles at him as helimped and climbed along his dizzy way. Afterwards they foundbloodstains and knew that he was wounded. At the end of six weeksthey gave up. The soldiers and police returned to Honolulu, andKalalau Valley was left to him for his own, though head-huntersventured after him from time to time and to their own undoing.Two years later, and for the last time, Koolau crawled into athicket and lay down among the ti-leaves and wild ginger blossoms.Free he had lived, and free he was dying. A slight drizzle of rainbegan to fall, and he drew a ragged blanket about the distortedwreck of his limbs. His body was covered with an oilskin coat.Across his chest he laid his Mauser rifle, lingering affectionatelyfor a moment to wipe the dampness from the barrel. The hand withwhich he wiped had no fingers left upon it with which to pull thetrigger.He closed his eyes, for, from the weakness in his body and the fuzzyturmoil in his brain, he knew that his end was near. Like a wildanimal he had crept into hiding to die. Half-conscious, aimless andwandering, he lived back in his life to his early manhood on Niihau.As life faded and the drip of the rain grew dim in his ears itseemed to him that he was once more in the thick of the horse-breaking, with raw colts rearing and bucking under him, his stirrupstied together beneath, or charging madly about the breaking corraland driving the helping cowboys over the rails. The next instant,and with seeming naturalness, he found himself pursuing the wildbulls of the upland pastures, roping them and leading them down tothe valleys. Again the sweat and dust of the branding pen stung hiseyes and bit his nostrils.All his lusty, whole-bodied youth was his, until the sharp pangs ofimpending dissolution brought him back. He lifted his monstroushands and gazed at them in wonder. But how? Why? Why should thewholeness of that wild youth of his change to this? Then heremembered, and once again, and for a moment, he was Koolau, theleper. His eyelids fluttered wearily down and the drip of the rainceased in his ears. A prolonged trembling set up in his body.This, too, ceased. He half-lifted his head, but it fell back. Thenhis eyes opened, and did not close. His last thought was of hisMauser, and he pressed it against his chest with his folded,fingerless hands.
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