All night the menehune had been fishing. Before the first dim light of dawn they stood about their great pile of little fish. “We shall dry them tonight,” they said. “Some we shall salt. We have food for many nights.” Then they went to their homes in the forest to sleep.
But guards were left, and as these watched and listened through the day they heard strange sounds—whisperings and, now and then, the noise of a sliding stone! “Where do those sounds come from?” the guards asked each other. “Not from the beach! Not from the mountain slope!” They listened and still heard the sounds.
“I know!” said one. “There is a narrow tunnel down through the mountain. Someone is coming through that tunnel.”
“Many are coming!” said another guard. “It is those evil spirits who live on the mountaintop. They have seen our pile of fish and are coming to steal them. Quick! Rouse the others!”
Soon a group of little men had gathered, discussing the danger in low whispers. “I have a plan,” the chief announced. “Let us tunnel into the mountain and take those spirits by surprise.”
At once they went to work, chipping the rock. So many were the workers and so great their skill and speed that they tunneled far and reached the small passage through which the spirits crawled. As the evil spirits came through their narrow passage one by one, the menehune warriors fell upon them, killing all. The fish were saved and gave the menehune food for many nights.
As for the tunnel made by the little men, that is still to be seen at Hā‘ena—a dry cave reaching far into the mountain.
Told by W. H. Rice in The Friend