“War shall cease on Hawaiʻi when one shall come and shall be laid above on the altar of Puʻukoholā, the house of god.”
This was the prophecy of Kapoukai of Molokaʻi when Kamehameha inquired how he could successfully control the island. By the death of Keōua, all of Hawaiʻi Island came under Kamehameha’s rule.
Years before that, Kalaniopuʻu was aliʻi nui of Hawaiʻi. His sons were Kīwalaʻo and Keōuakūʻahuʻula, and his nephew was Kamehameha. When Kalaniopuʻu died, he left the rule of the land to Kīwalaʻo and his war god, Kūkaʻilimoku, to Kamehameha. Kīwalaʻo offered some land to his uncle, Keawemauhili, leaving his half-brother, Keōua, with nothing.
Eventually, the death of Kīwalaʻo left Hawaiʻi Island divided between the rival claims of the three aliʻi. Keōua ruled over Kaʻū and much of Puna in the south, Kamehameha controlled Kohala and Kona in the west, and Keawemauhili held Hilo in the east. Regardless, Kamehameha continued his conquest by invading Maui, Lānaʻi, and Molokaʻi.
While on Molokaʻi, the kahuna Kapoukahi prophesied that war would end and the land would be his if Kamehameha built a heiau at Puʻukoholā and dedicated it to the war god Kū.
Historians say that aside from women and the kapu aliʻi, Kealiʻimaikaʻi, Kamehameha’s sacred brother, every person was involved in building the heiau, including Kamehameha himself. The kāhuna selected the site and determined the orientation, size, and arrangement, and the people formed a human chain nearly 20 miles long, passing the stones from person to person from Pololu Valley to Puʻukoholā.
In order for the heiau to be acceptable to the gods, the construction was under strict kapu, and every stage of progress was met with ritual and ceremony. Any person who was unfortunate enough to break the kapu, even by accident, paid with his life.
The prophet also proclaimed that the heiau would possess the mana (spiritual power) necessary to fulfill the prophecy only if a high-ranking individual were offered in sacrifice. So, after completing the heiau in 1791, Kamehameha invited his cousin, Keōua, to Kawaiahae with an offer of peace.
It is said that Keōua knew he was about to die. As his party traveled to Kawaihae by canoe, they made one last stop. In a pond called Luahinewai, he performed ʻūmuʻo, a ritual circumcision.
Ideally, when a man is meant to be sacrificed to the gods, his body could not be damaged. Keōua’s self-mutilation made him an imperfect sacrifice. His final act of defiance to Kamehameha.
As Keōua was about to step ashore at Kawaihae, he was killed by one of Kamehameha’s aliʻi. Thus, he became the first sacrifice of Puʻukoholā, but not the last. With Keōua dead and his supporters either killed or captured, Kamehameha became the aliʻi nui of Hawaiʻi Island, leading to the eventual conquest and consolidation of all the islands under one rule.
In 1972, the Queen Emma Foundation donated 34 acres of land around the Puʻukoholā Heiau, including the John Young Homestead, establishing the Puʻukoholā Heiau National Historic Site. This landmark sees thousands of visitors each year, making it one of the most significant historic sites in Hawaiʻi. But not all of those visitors are among the living.
He pō Kāne kēia, ke māʻau nei nā ʻeʻepa o ka pō. This is the night of Kāne, for supernatural beings are wandering about in the dark.
This ʻŌlelo Noʻeau (Hawaiian proverb) is said of those who go wandering about at night. It is believed that on the night of Kāne — the night of no moon — ghosts, demigods, and other beings wander about among the living. Pō Kāne is often referred to when speaking of the legendary huakaʻi pō, also known as the night marchers.
The most common description of the night marchers is a group of ghostly warriors marching in a haunted procession. Their announcement comes in several forms: the sound of the pū (conch shell), the pounding of distant pahu (drums) getting closer, the music of the ‘ohe hano ihu (nose flute), the sound of stomping feet, or a line of torch lights traveling along a path. Some say that they have felt the earth shake or caught the scent of sulfur, and some have said that they witnessed a column of mist moving across the land.
If you are in the way of the oncoming procession, you should run. If it is too late to run, you must lie flat on your stomach, cover your head, and shut your eyes tight. If you know it, it would be helpful to chant your moʻokūʻauhau, your lineage, and pray that an ancestor walks among the dead to speak for you.
One woman shared her story about the huakaʻi pō that traveled through Kawaihae Hawaiian Homes. Their house was built near a path that the night marchers are said to travel. Her family is descended from the men who built the heiau, and now walk with the ghostly procession on the nights of no moon.
As a child, she remembers staying up late at night, listening for the sounds of marching feet. She saw no torch lights, as some people say, but she could hear the sounds. Once the marching grew closer, so did the sound of drums. She said that she stood near her window and peeked out, and just as her grandfather told her they would, the men walked past their house on a long-forgotten path toward Puʻukoholā. Knowing she had ʻohana in the procession, she was filled with wonder more than fear.
No matter how much time passes and how much the scenery changes, our ancestors continue to walk unhindered and uninhibited. After all, the land still belongs to them.
The authors can be reached at hawaii.mysteries@gmail.com
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