a Polynesian_"; and her husband
cherished her exceedingly. He had the indelicacy to frame and publish an
especial law declaring death against the man who should approach her,
and yet no penalty against herself. And in 1809, after thirty-four years
of marriage, and when she must have been nearing fifty, an island
Chastelard, of the name of Kanihonui, was found to be her lover, and
paid the penalty of life; she cynically surviving. Some twenty years
later, one of the missionaries had written home denouncing the
misconduct of an English whaler. The whaler got word of the denunciation
and, with the complicity of the English consul, sought to make a crime
of it against the mission. Party spirit ran very violent in the islands;
tears were shed, threats flying; and Kaahumanu called a council of the
chiefs. In that day stood forth the native historian, David Malo (though
his name should rather have been Nathan), and pressed the regent with
historic instances. Who was to be punished?--the whaler guilty of the
act, the missionary whose denunciation had provoked the scandal? "O you,
the wife of Kamehameha," said he, "Kanihonui came and slept with you
Luheluhe declared to Kamehameha the sleeping together of you two. I ask
you, which of these two persons was slain by Kamehameha? Was it
Luheluhe?" And she answered: "It was Kanihonui!" Shakespeare never
imagined such a character; and it would require none less than he to
represent her sublimities and contradictions.

After this heroine, the stone in the precinct of Honaunau had been
named. Here is the reason, and the tale completes her portrait.
Kamehameha was, of course, polygamous; the number of his wives rose at
last to twenty-five; and out of these no less than two were the sisters
of Kaahumanu. The favourite was of a jealous habit; and when it came to
a sister for a rival, her jealousy overflowed. She fled by night,
plunged in the sea, came swimming to Honaunau, entered the precinct by
the sea-gate, and hid herself behind the stone. There she lay naked and
refused food. The flight was discovered; as she had come swimming, none
had seen her pass; the priests of the temple were bound, it seems, to
silence; and Kona was filled with the messengers of the dismayed
Kamehameha, vainly seeking the favourite. Now, Kaahumanu had a dog who
was much attached to her, who had accompanied her in her long swim, and
lay by her side behind the stone; and it chanced, as the messengers ran
past the