“And of course she was daughter of great chief, so to fall in love with a low-caste youth, as she did, was a terrible disgrace to me and my people. Also the gods, Tangaloa, Tuli, Tane, and the goddesses of O E Langi (Elysium) were dark-browed with anger about it all. ’Tis true that the low-caste youth was handsome to look upon, straight as a coco-palm, with eyes like a katafa bird’s. But such things do not make up for the lack of great blood and the pride of the gods in one’s heart.”
“No, certainly not,” said I, as O Le Tao’s wrinkled physiognomy revealed the pride he felt over those old ancestors that he claimed. Then he continued:
“One night, when we were all fast asleep in our village by Tewaka, we did all leap suddenly up from our sleeping mats, for lo! the conch-shells of the gods in shadowland were blowing! True enough the gods and goddesses were rushing about the forests in great anger! We did know that something terrible had occurred, for their voices sounded like to thunder and echoed to the mountain tops. As all my people did rush from their huts, the gods disappeared in the moonlight, but we were all just in time to see a canoe being fast paddled across the bay out to sea! Ah, Papalagi, ’twas great insult; for it was that low-caste youth Ko-Ko, for that was his name, and Lao-mio, the high-caste maid, in flight together. For a moment we gazed dumb-struck, the horror of the scene before us being on the faces of all the chiefs. And the _O tausalas_ (high-class girls and women) weep to see so wicked a sight.”
Saying the foregoing, O Le Tao placed his wrinkled hand to his brow and gazed in deep reflection on the scene that was apparently before his memory. Then, as his old wife handed him a goblet of kava (he swallowed it at a gulp), he cast his eyes skyward and continued:
“Suddenly we all recover our senses, and go rushing down to the shore. But it was too late. The cunning Ko-Ko had severed the sennet tackles and had cast all our canoes adrift, so that we could not follow him. He was very low-caste too, for, as the canoe turned round by the promontory, he did turn his face to us and waved his paddle jeeringly! And though my kinsmen and many of the tausalas did dance with much rage on the shore at this act of Ko-Ko’s, I did myself keep calm, as great chief should keep; crossing my arms on my breast, I did spit seaward. It was then that we all turned, and rushing way back to the village we looked into the hut wherein Lao-mio had slept. Lo, master, we found _all_ her clothes—she had left them behind! ’Twas sad enough, this act of an erstwhile modest tausala maid, but we did all beat our chests when we find the maid had left a note behind her too, and this note said: ‘O stink chiefs of Samoa, I go away with my true love Ko-Ko, for his eyes are like unto the gods! And I would have you know, O meddling people of the village, that my children shall bless me for having so god-like a husband!’