For this reason no man was more consulted in all the Kingdom of Hawaii.  Prudent people bought, and sold, and married, and laid out their lives by his counsels; and the King had him twice to Kona to seek the treasures of Kamehameha.  Neither was any man more feared:  of his enemies, some had dwindled in sickness by the virtue of his incantations, and some had been spirited away, the life and the clay both, so that folk looked in vain for so much as a bone of their bodies.  It was rumoured that he had the art or the gift of the old heroes.  Men had seen him at night upon the mountains, stepping from one cliff to the next; they had seen him walking in the high forest, and his head and shoulders were above the trees.

This Kalamake was a strange man to see.  He was come of the best blood in Molokai and Maui, of a pure descent; and yet he was more white to look upon than any foreigner:  his hair the colour of dry grass, and his eyes red and very blind, so that “Blind as Kalamake, that can see across to-morrow,” was a byword in the islands.

Of all these doings of his father-in-law, Keola knew a little by the common repute, a little more he suspected, and the rest he ignored.  But there was one thing troubled him.  Kalamake was a man that spared for nothing, whether to eat or to drink, or to wear; and for all he paid in bright new dollars.  “Bright as Kalamake’s dollars,” was another saying in the Eight Isles.  Yet he neither sold, nor planted, nor took hire — only now and then from his sorceries — and there was no source conceivable for so much silver coin.

It chanced one day Keola’s wife was gone upon a visit to Kaunakakai, on the lee side of the island, and the men were forth at the sea-fishing.  But Keola was an idle dog, and he lay in the verandah and watched the surf beat on the shore and the birds fly about the cliff.  It was a chief thought with him always — the thought of the bright dollars.  When he lay down to bed he would be wondering why they were so many, and when he woke at morn he would be wondering why they were all new; and the thing was never absent from his mind.  But this day of all days he made sure in his heart of some discovery.  For it seems he had observed the place where Kalamake kept his treasure, which was a lock-fast desk against the parlour wall, under the print of Kamehameha the Fifth, and a photograph of Queen Victoria with her crown; and it seems again that, no later than the night before, he found occasion to look in, and behold! the bag lay there empty.  And this was the day of the steamer; he could see her smoke off Kalaupapa; and she must soon arrive with a month’s goods, tinned salmon and gin, and all manner of rare luxuries for Kalamake.

“Now if he can pay for his goods to-day,” Keola thought, “I shall know for certain that the man is a warlock, and the dollars come out of the Devil’s pocket.”

While he was so thinking, there was his father-in-law behind him, looking vexed.