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"Twelve dollars," said Kumuhana. "I want to buy a Jackass and a second-hand saddle and bridle. I am growing too old for my legs to carry me in walking." "You wait," his haole lord commanded. "I will talk with you about the matter, and about other things of importance, when I am finished with the rest and they are gone." The withered old one nodded and proceeded to light his pipe.
"Yes, Kanaka Oolea," muttered Kumuhana, pathetically attempting to swell his shrunken chest with pride. "And you are very wise." "Yes, Kanaka Oolea." "And you know many of the secret things that are known only to old men." "Yes, Kanaka Oolea."
To you, O Kanaka Oolea, I do not answer yes, I do not answer no. This is a secret of the aliis that even the aliis do not know." "Very good, Kumuhana," Hardman Pool commanded. "Yet do you forget that I am an alii, and that what my good Kalama does not dare ask, I command to ask. I can send for her, now, and tell her to command your answer.
Then Hardman Pool ordered the little maid to fetch a tumbler of gin and milk, which, when she brought it, he nodded her to hand to Kumuhana. The glass did not leave his lips until it was empty, whereon he gave a great audible out-breath of "A-a-ah," and smacked his lips. "Much awa have I drunk in my time," he said reflectively.
For he was old, and most likely of the aliis to be dead." "It was his death, as I have heard it, more than the intercession of Kekuanaoa, that spoiled Governor Boki's rebellion," Hardman Pool observed. "It was Kahekili's death that spoiled it," Kumuhana confirmed.
But proceed, Kumuhana. Do you remember anything also of what the priest Eoppo sang?" "At the very end," came the confirming nod, "though I was near dead myself, and nearer to die under the priest's knife, he sang what I have remembered every word of. Listen! It was thus." And in quavering falsetto, with the customary broken-notes, the old man sang.
"Else would there be neither men nor women." "Yes," said Kumuhana. "But it is many a year now since the last of such heat has gone out of me. I remember it as one remembers an old sunrise a thing that was. And so one grows old, and cold, and drinks gin, not for madness, but for warmth. And the milk is very nourishing. "But Malia did not sit beside him.
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