Ka Mo`omeheu o Hawai`i 
Hawaiian Culture

Makahiki Stories
How `Iole Saved Hawai`i

            There are many stories of Na-Koko-a-Makali`i, The Net of Makali`i, the Pleiades, how and why they hang shimmering in the winter sky.

            In some, they are named for a famed navigator, knowledgeable in the star paths which the great voyaging canoes tracked as they made their way across the Pacific – “Makali`i” – The Eyes of the Chief. In others, Makali`i is a seer who lives in the heavens. And in yet others, he is the ruling chief of Kauai, and expert in agriculture. 

            But the Makali`i of our story is an ali`i, a chief, whose name means “Tiny Eyes.” How did he get such tiny eyes? Ah! Always squinting and peering this way and that, looking to see if his konohiki, his tax collector, had missed some nice thing, feathers, or kapa, or food, which he could store away.

            Now, storing food away in times of plenty was a thing any good chief might do. Dried and salted foods, or things such as yams which would last a long time, would be carefully harvested and at tax collection time, put aside to be brought out when other chiefs visited, when an important ceremony required feasting on short notice, or in the event of a famine.

            Certain hardy foods, such as wild yams, semi-wild taro, a little sugar cane, and a few bananas were planted in the edge of the forest in the hope that if the lowland farms were stricken by drought, those in the forest might survive. A wise chief left those as a hedge against famine.

            But Makali`i, peering and squinting this way and that, took even those for his own storehouses. It was not possible for him to use so much all on his own, but that didn’t matter to selfish Makali`i. “A`ohe mea koe aku ia Makali`i! Pau no ka liko me ka lā`ele!” “Makali`i has left nothing! He has taken everything from buds to old leaves,” the kūpuna complained as they sadly watched the makua pick up their `ō`ō and try to harvest a little something from the stripped fields.

            At last, one year the winter clouds gathered on the horizon, black and round, leaning into the wind like a herd of pigs in the distance. But by the time they reached the islands, they had melted away into wisps, disappearing before they brought the life-giving rain.

            The chants of the kahuna pule had no effect. Special kapu invoked to `oki, to clear away any offences the people may have committed, had no effect. The dry months dragged on. The plants withered. The mud in the taro patches dried, and then cracked. Only silent stones filled the beds of once lively streams.

            A good chief would have opened his storehouses and ordered the konohiki to distribute food to all the people. But not selfish Makali`i.

            Instead, he took all the vegetable food and put it in a net, and he hung the net high in the sky.

            As the drought wore on, the wild foods at the edge of the forest were eaten. Once they were gone, even the seed plants which had been carefully wrapped and hidden, withered, but with a small living hua, even those were cooked.

            `Iole, the little rat who lives in the sweet potato fields watched all of this going on. He had been feeding himself and his `ohana by gathering up broken bits of rootlets and gnawing the sap which had stuck to field stones. But dried food makes one thirsty, and so water had to be found. He was skinny, but his wife, with her litter of ratlings, was barely alive, and with little milk left to nurse them. Tiny `iole made a decision. He would make the journey down to the kau hale and find some moist and tender food.

            From sheltering rock to sheltering rock he crept. In the day, the hot sun hurt his big night eyes and made is thirst even worse. At dawn and dusk, Pueo listened for his smallest movement. Only in darkest night was he at all safe.

            Finally, nearing the kau hale, he heard a strange sound. It was weeping. `Iole crept between the rocks of the hale mua. Not one scrap of food was to be found. Following the crying, he entered the hale noa. Mothers, barely able to hold up their own heads, were trying to comfort their starving babies.

            “Pau ka mea `ai.” “The food is gone, the mothers told their children. “Huihui kōkō a Makali`i kau i luna!”  “Makali`i’s net hangs above.”

            `Iole crept back outside. Looking up, he saw it. Succulent greens and fat tubers hung shimmering against the blackness. So tempting, but completely out of reach.

            `Iole headed back toward the sweet potato fields. Pela, perhaps it was best that he go home and starve with his wife and children. Pela – paha! Perhaps, but perhaps not!

            From ancient times, niu has been a close friend to `Iole and his `ohana. There was Niu, gently clattering his fronds in the night breeze. `Iole, heartened, scampered to Niu’s base and began to climb. “Aloha e Friend Niu! Pehea?”

            “Eeee! Pehea, Friend `Iole?”

            “To be frank, my `ohana is starving, and I would beg from you one of your sweet cocoonuts!” `Iole clambered into the first `ahui.

            “`Aue! Friend `Iole, my coconuts are dried and useless. The best were harvested long since by Ke Ali`i Makali`i. You will find neither water nor meat in what is left.”

            “Aue, indeed!” `Iole replied. “You were my last hope.”

            “Pela paha. I had given up hope, myself, but I have such aloha for you, for your sake, I shall hope again. Let’s ask Friend Kolonahe if he has any suggestions.”

            “Aloha e Friend Niu!” Kolonahe playfully rattled Niu’s fronds. “You look despondent. Are you wishing for news? I can bring some from afar!”

            “E aloha Friend Kolonahe. You have a dry sense of humor these days. What we need is food and drink. I, myself, would be happy if you blew few of those rainy horizon clouds my way. But Friend `Iole needs food and drink immediately. What can we do?”

            “Eeeeeee. A hard question. I am the gentle breeze. I am not strong enough to bring a rain cloud here. Even with rain, it will be months before crops can grow. And, as you point out, Friend `Iole needs food and drink now!

            Kolonahe swirled away, gently rattling and bouncing a few fronds as he went. Flighty and forgetful, already he was distracted, and had started playing with a few wisps of dew clouds. `Iole and Niu watched in sad resignation.

            Then they noticed. . . . Kolonahe was teasing the wispy little clouds together, and without noticing, they were letting themselves drift closer to Niu. As Māhealani, the full moon, reached the apex of her climb all the world was washed in silver light. The light shimmered through the clouds, forming small moonbows that rippled like the colors of He`e as the clouds danced with Kolonahe.

            Listen, the clouds agree! They will not come down close to you, Friend Niu, but they will stay up here. But if Friend `Iole can jump upon them, they will hold the end of a rainbow rope that Māhealani will braid. Māhealani says that Friend `Iole should be able to leap from the rope on to the kōkō.

            The plan was certainly worth a try. But, how to get to the clouds? The three friends conferred.

            Kolonahe began dancing with Niu’s longest frond. `Iole carfeully climbed out on it, closer and closer to the end, as the end swung in a larger and larger arc. Just as `Iole reached the tip, the frond swung hard! He leaped! Launched as from a catapult, he flew through the night sky and struck a cloud! His sharp little claws grasped at the soft skin and he clambered on.

            From Cloud to Māhealani, a shimmering translucent rope, woven of all the colors of the rainbow, stretched. `Iole took a deep breath and began to climb. Higher and higher he crept. Niu became a small dot, and the kau hale below could hardly be told from the rocks on which it was built.

            Māhealani pulled the rope as close as she could to the kōkō, but the distance was still farther then many rats standing nose to tail.

            `Iole thought of the babies crying so far below. he thought of his own wife and their litter of ratlings. He took a deep breath, focused his eyes on the net, and JUMPED!

            His left paw grasped a single knot! Flailing, he managed to catch a taro leaf, but his sharp claws tore through the tender blade! He swung dangling under the net!

            And then he felt, with the tip of his tail, a sweet potato rootlet. His tail wrapped tightly around it. Now secure, he rested a moment. He turned himself around and began to gnaw.

            `Iole was almost knocked loose when the vegetables burst forth from the torn net! But he kept his wits about him and jumped from the torn koko to Māhealani’s rainbow, slid down to the clouds, and jumped into the waiting fronds of Friend Niu.

            Calling out his thanks, `Iole scampered down Niu’s trunk. Picking out a nice juicy sweet potato, he dragged it home.