Chapter 27
An Evening Swim
It wasn’t very long ago that Paniolo Pete and I were out ridin’ herd up around the volcano. We were easing along the trail enjoying the evening. The cattle were calmed for the night and it was a typical quiet night in the islands. We were taking the herd to one of our upper paddocks and it was shortly after sundown. The moon and stars were bright so there was little problem seeing where we were headed. Plus, those old cows all knew the trail and they didn’t need much coaxing to head for the fresh grass in the upper paddock.
As for me, I decided to answer the call of nature and figured it was as good a time as any. I got down off my horse and took a couple of steps off the trail when suddenly the ground gave way under me and I felt myself falling into some sort of hole. I can’t remember for sure how long I was in that hole or when I came to after the fall. What I did know was that I was pretty beat up. My leg wasn’t workin’ too well, and although it was so dark I couldn’t see my hands in front of my face, I could tell I was pretty cut up.
Now sometimes lava tubes are just shallow holes that don’t go anywhere. Other times they’re connected to caverns that can run underground for miles. The one I’d fallen into must have had a turn or something in it because I couldn’t see any light at all from above. I’m telling you, I was one mighty scared fella about then. I was afraid to move in case I was on some sort of ledge and I was afraid to not to move in case no one found me. But I knew Paniolo Pete was up there somewhere and I was hoping mighty hard he would find me.
Pete is one of the best men I’ve ever known when it comes to reading signs and figuring out what was going on. Most of us cowboys can do it; we’ve all done our share of hunting and tracking, but Paniolo Pete was amongst the best. I’ve seen him track lost cattle over lava rocks, follow wild pigs through streams, and identify a horse or bull by its hoof mark. He was one of the best and I was sure he’d find me. I reckon that’s why I wasn’t too surprised when I heard him yelling down at me. I answered him and briefly told him the shape I was in. It sure eased my mind hearing his voice though. There is no man I’d rather trust to pull my irons out of the fire than old Pete.
It also struck me about that time that I was bein’ a might selfish by just layin’ there expecting Pete to climb into that hole. I knew darn well how Paniolo Pete felt about closed in spaces. Ever since his experience with that sea chest as a young boy he’d been downright skittish when it came to small areas. Now, you might think this was a foolish thing to do, but I decided to be of some help and crawl toward Pete’s voice. Like I said earlier, my leg was pretty busted up and I was sure not feelin’ too strong, but I could at least drag myself towards Paniolo Pete. I didn’t make it far though. I’d probably only made it a few yards when the whole area I was crawling on gave way and I found myself falling again.
This time I remember the fall and thank the good Lord I landed in water. But one thing was for certain, I was now deep in the volcano. Just when I figured I was lucky for landing in the water, something banged me on the head. That was the last thing I remembered until I came to and saw Paniolo Pete leaning over me with Keala and one of his boys standing there lookin’ mighty scared. I figured one of those lava rocks must have landed on my head because I don’t ever remember feelin’ so sore. But there was light again so I naturally thought I was back up top and everyone was lookin’ at me funny because of the trouble I’d caused.
It took awhile, but what little sense I had started to come back and I could make out what Pete was telling me. It seems I’d landed on a shelf and when I started crawling it began to collapse. I’d then fallen into an underwater stream that fed into the cavern we were in.
“Bill, I don’t think we can bring you out the way we came in,” Pete said to me in a calm voice. “You’re hurt pretty bad, and we need to get you to a doctor.”
Now I know enough about injuries to know Paniolo Pete was right. I couldn’t see very well, even with the torch Keala was holding. My head felt like it had been stepped on. When I put my hand up to look at it, every one of those fingers were a might fuzzy. It didn’t help my spirits much when I felt the top of my head and realized I had a bump the size of a guava on top of it. Plus to make matters worse, I could hear the fear in Pete’s voice even though he was trying to hide it. I tried to convince myself it was only his fear of being in the cave, but it wasn’t working too well. I knew Paniolo Pete well enough to know that no matter how scared he was about being in a small, closed area, we’d never see his fear. The concern I saw on his face was for me. I’ll tell you, that scared me plenty. I couldn’t see much with my blurred vision, but I could sure feel the soreness, and seeing Pete look concerned over my condition certainly didn’t help.
“If you don’t mind a little swim, Bill, I figure you and I can just float down this stream a ways and see where it comes out.”
I reckon I’ve taken my lumps a time or two from riding wild horses most of my life, and I’m pretty good at holdin’ my beans when it comes to pain. I might not remember much about the fall, but as sure as I’m here I remember everything about that float down the stream. It took about all I had not to scream everytime we bumped something, and we bumped plenty.
Keala and his son were gone for a time, and Pete just stayed there holding my head. The two Hawaiians returned after awhile and they were carrying a bunch of canteens and a couple of saddle bags. They began putting the canteens inside that first saddle bag and then did the same thing with the second. In no time they had everything ready and were easing me into the water again. The saddle bags were tied under my arms and I felt about as foolish as a tourist on their first trip into the ocean. I couldn’t do much except just float there waiting with my feet a danglin’. Pete slipped a rope around my waist and tied me off to his own waist.
“This rope is so you won’t swim off and leave me down here, Bill. You know I’m not real partial to these small enclosed places. It looks like we’re about ready. You just relax and try to enjoy the ride and we’ll see where this stream takes us.”
Although Pete was trying to make light of the situation, I could clearly hear the fear in his voice. To this day, I’m still curious if it was becaue of what we were fixin’ to do next. Of course I would never ask, so you folks will just have to wonder along with me.
“Braddah, you no worry, Paniolo going make sure you no get hurt. I going see your ugly face downside when you come out. You think you sore now, try wait till Noelani see you. She scold you plenty.”
Even Keala sounded strange. He seemed to be at a loss over what to say, so instead he waded into the water, shook my hand, and embraced Pete.
“Paniolo, you no get crazy on me. More better I take this old buggah and you go wait for us makai side.”
“No Hawaiian, I’ll be fine. You know what needs to be done and how to find us when we come out. Don’t worry about us. We’ll take it slow and easy.”
Pete began easing us into the current. As soon as we were around the first turn we lost all the light from the torches Keala and his son had brought. Now if you’ve ever been underground, you know what I’m talking about when I say it was pitch black. We couldn’t see anything, as if all senses to our eyes had been shut off. I reckon I can better understand now what a blind person must go through. I respect their bravery even more after that experience.
The dark scared me more than anything else in that underground stream. I could hear the water easing along with us. I could smell the odors of moss and other things, but I saw nothing. It’s a pretty strange feeling floating along all peaceful deep down in a volcano. The cold water chills most of your body quick like and in no time I felt like I was floating through space in a dream. After awhile I heard Pete’s calm voice.
“Bill, I think it might almost be over. Listen. I’m pretty sure I hear the ocean.”
What Paniolo Pete heard wasn’t the ocean at all, but an underground waterfall. Before I even had a chance to yell, there was a sharp pull on my waist rope and I felt myself sli
ding over the falls. If Pete hadn’t tied me around the waist like he did, I’d have been lost for sure. It’s a funny thing being in the water when you can’t see. You don’t know when your head is above the surface.
“Bill, don’t give up on me,” I heard Pete shout above the roar of the waterfall. “I can see light up ahead. We’re going to make it.”
Hearing his voice made me realize I wasn’t still under water so I took a deep breath and went into a coughing fit. It’s kind of funny now that I look back on it, but if I hadn’t heard Pete’s voice, I imagine I might have of just held my breath till I burst.
“Bill, I thought we had it for sure when we slid over those falls. Then when you didn’t answer right away I thought I’d lost you.”
His voice was filled with emotion, but it was excitement I was hearing most of all. Paniolo Pete was funny like that. No matter what kind of a fix he was in, he still enjoyed things like slidin’ over a waterfall. The excitement I’d heard was short-lived though when he asked if I was alright. I told him I was and it was at that moment I realized how much this whole trip inside the volcano must be costing him. So I did what seemed appropriate. I apologized for getting him in such a mess knowing how he feels about places like this.
“Why Bill, I guess this is a might bigger than a sea chest. It’s probably time I got over my old fears anyway. Besides, last I looked it was a fine evening for a swim. After all these years I finally got you to join me.”
Even though I couldn’t see Paniolo Pete’s face, I’d be willing to bet he winked at me after he said that. He was right, you know. He had been trying for years to get me to go swimming with him. I’m not scared of the water. It’s just that I grew up on the plains of the Midwest and never had much use for the ocean. I have to admit, though, it was a pretty good feeling floatin’ there with old Pete, and I started laughing over the thought of two old coots taking an evening swim inside a lava tube.
Pete joined me in laughing and before long, both of us sounded like a couple of young boys seein’ our first girlie picture. We finally calmed down and after a few more minutes of rest, we began our next leg of the journey toward where we could see a dim glow of light. The current caught us in its gradual pull and after we made it around the next turn, we could see where the light was coming from. About two hundred feet above us was a small hole and the sun was shining through. It had been evening when I’d fallen in the lava tube and here it was daylight already. My how time flies when you’re havin’ fun. Even from way down in the depths of a lava tube I couldn’t help but marvel at how blue the sky looked. It’s funny how little things like the color of the sky stick in a man’s mind.
“Well Bill, I guess unless we can fly we’ll have to find ourselves an easier hole to climb out of.”
Once we passed the sunlight hole, everything suddenly became dark again. At first I wasn’t sure why and I asked Pete.
“I don’t know, Bill. Seems like someone just turned out the light. Did you just hear something?”
Sure enough, very faintly I could hear someone yelling to us from up top.
“Sounds like he’s telling us to stop here,” Pete said. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea, but let’s just stop and see what happens.”
Paniolo Pete took hold of the rock face and began pulling me over toward the wall. The current was a lot stronger now and he was struggling.
“Bill, it’s a little too strong here in this current to stop for long. Maybe we should go a little further downstream and try our luck there.”
We could still hear someone yelling from above, but we couldn’t make out any of the words. I reckon it’s safe to say by this time I wasn’t thinking too clearly and had no idea what was happening. The peaceful lull of the undercurrent had me in its grasp and I told Pete we should continue. We probably would have if we hadn’t suddenly recognized Keala’s booming voice. This time there was no mistaking what the big Hawaiian was shouting. He told us to stop where were, not to go on.
“I guess we better stay put, Bill. I’m not sure what the Hawaiian is so excited about but he sounds pretty upset. You just hold on and I’ll pull you over here.”
Now I had every intention of holding on. Not that I had much choice with the rope around my waist. Plus the cold was setting in and I couldn’t have moved much if I’d wanted to. I could still hear Keala yelling, but I was more concerned at the moment on reaching Paniolo Pete. Water was rushing by me on both sides and the rope around my waist was cutting into me. Suddenly I felt a strong grip on one of my arms and the next thing I know, Pete pulled me over to the rock face he was holding on to.
“Bill, I won’t lie to you. I think we’re in kind of a tight spot here. I couldn’t make out all of what Keala was saying, but he seemed pretty upset. We’d best stay here until we can figure this out.”
So we just stayed there hugging that rock wall and looking back toward the hole above us. To both our amazement, there was a big splash and the small hole opened up and a sight more daylight came through. Both of us were staring at the beam of sunlight about fifty yards upstream when we saw a mighty strange sight indeed. Out of that beam of light appeared a bright yellow flower print cloth billowing down with two thick legs attached. Next we saw a huge belly and Keala’s smiling face.
“Aloha, anyone down here?”
Maybe it was purely from exhaustion, but seeing our big Hawaiian friend floating down toward us through the sunlight struck Pete and I mighty funny. We burst out laughing at the thought of Keala as an angel being sent down from heaven to save us.
“Keala, over here,” Pete shouted. “We’re holding onto the rocks but we can’t last much longer. The current is too strong.”
Although Pete was trying to sound calm, I could hear the strain in his voice even in my dazed condition. I’ll say one thing for Keala, he can be fast when he wants to be. We heard him talking to someone up top and then saw something drop down to him.
“Braddah, where you stay? I no can see nothing is this hole. I went hear all the laughing and thought there only menehune down here. You OK braddah?
“We’re fine,” Pete shouted back. “We’re about fifty yards downstream from you.”
Although there was a bit of desperation in Pete’s voice, that steel determination was also there. No matter what obstacles were still ahead, I could relax a little knowing Pete and Keala were there. It’s strange what goes through a man’s mind at a time like that. Here I was, all busted up in a lava tube a couple hundred feet underground, freezing cold and, all I could think about was how lucky I was to have such trusted friends.
“You hang on,” yelled Keala. “I come get you.”
If Paniolo Pete hadn’t been holding me, I would probably have just drifted away in that underground stream. As it was, the only thing that kept my head above water were those saddle bag floats and Pete’s strong grip. We watched as Keala was slowly lowered into the water and the rope was fed out to allow him to approach us. It took some intense swimming on his part, but few currents could match the Hawaiian’s powerful strokes.
“Aloha, braddahs. I plenty worried you two went over Akana Falls already. I no like have to pick you like opihi off the rocks. Good thing Pekelo not fat like me and went see you float by. More better I take Bronco now and then I come back for you Paniolo.”
Then Keala shouted to Pekelo, and the rope was pulled back against the current. Keala was holding me like a baby in his arms when suddenly the rope around my waist pulled taunt, and I could see Paniolo Pete being yanked off the rocks. The strain of three grown men and the current was taking its toll on the rope and I was sure it would break. But before that happened, I felt the slack around my waist, and Keala and I were lifted out of the lava tube.
The last thing I saw before I reached the surface was Pete trying desparately to gain a hand-hold on the rock face inside the cavern. I closed my eyes from the glare of the sun as Keala’s strong arms laid me out on the ground. Noelani’s voice brought me fully awake.
“Bronco Bill, you too old for all this attention. I no like patch you all up and then have you die on me. You open those haole blue eyes now.”
I fought the white haze that had set in and did as she asked.
“Pekelo, try hurry. Paniolo cut his rope and I no more time for fancy knots. Try lower me now.” I could hear Keala’s voice as I looked up into the beautiful but worried face of Noelani Kahiona. “You be OK now old man. We plenty worried.”
Pete’s horse, Kokoro, was being used to lower Keala back into the hole and looked about as unhappy as a horse can look. Kokoro would tolerate all of us around him, but there was never a doubt he did it only because of Paniolo Pete. He knew Pete was still down in the lava tube and until he was back safely, the horse would follow whatever instructions were given him. Of course, once Pete was back, we could talk to that horse till we were blue in the face and he’d remain stubborn as a mule.
The sun felt mighty good after the chill I’d taken and I must have dozed off. Next thing I knew it was near sunset and Keala was being pulled up out of the hole. I heard him talking quietly to his wife.
“I went try find him. He was just nowhere. We went trace this stream all the way to Akana Falls and thought that’s where he would be. Noelani, I could not fight the pull of the current further up. No more chance for Paniolo.”
I had never seen Keala so close to tears as at that moment. He stood there with his head sunk into his massive shoulders and looking about as upset over life as a man could be. It hadn’t fully registered what it was they were talking about and when they started loading me onto a bamboo stretcher, I asked about Pete.
“Braddah never make it. I went down but he no was there. I cannot find him. I should have tried to carry both of you at one time.”
It was indeed a somber night as we all headed into Kona town. Keala and Noelani were riding lead, and their three sons were walking behind them leading my buckskin with me being pulled on the stretcher mat behind him, and the great stallion, Kokoro, walking behind us all. When Kelala had come out of that hole the last time I think even Kokoro knew Pete wasn’t coming back. As we came toward the front of the hospital, Kokoro gave that shrill yell of his and raced off down the street. We all just looked at each other, not sure what was going on, when I heard Keala yell out in pure joy.
“Braddah must be OK. That crazy horse no do that for nobody.”
We picked up our pace and sure enough, sitting there on the front steps of the hospital, smiling like it was Christmas morning, sat Paniolo Pete.
“Howdy folks. I figured you’d be bringing Bill here so I just decided to sit and wait for you to show up. Hope I didn’t worry you too much by taking a short cut.”
Although Pete was trying to make light of the whole experience, it was obvious he had been through a lot to get himself to the hospital. His face was a mask of small cuts, his arm was bandaged up, both his hands were wrapped, and he was mighty slow getting to his feet.
“Pete, looks like you was rode hard,” I told him. “I figured I was in pretty bad shape, but you look worse. How did you get so beat up?”
“I guess it’s safe to say that old waterfall got the best of me. At least we’re all here now. Enough talking, let’s get you in to see the doc.”
It took awhile to finally get the story out of Paniolo Pete about what happened after he cut our tie rope and Keala lifted me out of the lava tube. I reckon it’s like pulling teeth trying to get a man to recall an ordeal like that. The best we could figure is once he got caught up in the current of that underground stream, he got swept right on over the falls. Sometime later, over our morning coffee, we finally got the rest of the story.
“I remember hearing a loud roar and the current was moving pretty fast. Everything around me suddenly got bright and the next thing I knew I was looking at a beautiful blue sky. I tell you, I thought for sure I was on my way to meet my Maker face to face.”
Although Pete was still trying to make light of it, the whole experience was a sobering and emotional one. When he finished talking, his eyes briefly lost their mischievous gleam and took on a slightly haunted look as he thought back on it.
I ended up spending almost a month in the hospital while they patched me up and helped me heal. I reckon it’s times like that when a man knows he’s got friends. The nurses at Kona Hospital were probably pretty happy to see me leave. The daily visitors I had weren’t exactly the most respectable folks in town. Cowboys have a certain sense of humor and whether they were walking down those clean halls in their boots and spurs, or sneaking free food from the kitchen, they could be quite an unruly bunch. I suppose if truth be told, some of them old boys I’ve ridden with over the years just came to that hospital for some fun and used my being there as an excuse. But it still makes a man proud to have so many visitors.
Anyway, let me finish telling y’all the rest of what we learned from Paniolo Pete about his ride over Akana Falls. The falls themselves must be a good 400 feet high and crash into some mighty big boulders before washing out to sea. Pete told us he remembers falling and was mighty scared. The next thing he knew, he was lying on the beach watching a sand crab walking over his hand. Whatever happened in between remained a mystery to him. They best he could figure was he had been knocked out as he passed through that hole and then washed up on the beach after he landed.
Now me, I’m a curious sort on such things so one afternoon when Pete was busy in town, I asked my friend Keala to take a ride with me. It was a beautiful afternoon for a ride with the sun out and the tradewinds blowing.
“Bronco, why you drag me back to this place? You like try ride the falls like Paniolo?”
“No Keala, I wanted to see how Paniolo Pete survived this fall. Nobody seems to have a good answer so I figured maybe you and I could solve the mystery.”
“No mystery. His ‘aumakua went put him on da beach,” Keala answered in a tone that left little room for discussion.
Now, I reckon I’m not very superstitious and I’ve always felt that most things can be solved if you read the signs right. But I have to admit, as we rode along the beach to the area where the falls pounded into the rocks, I was hard pressed to find an answer. Unless Paniolo Pete could fly, I didn’t see any way a man could survive a fall like that. We tied off our horses and I went to investigate on foot. Keala went off to pick opihi because in his mind there was no mystery. The gods had saved Pete and that was the end of it. But there were still some things I just couldn’t sort out.
It was merely by chance that Pekelo had found the small hole he yelled at us from that day. He had followed the direction of the underground stream as best he could and when he reached the falls, he immediately turned back to warn his father. The horse he was riding stumbled and being the country boy that he is, he stopped to check his mount’s legs before continuing. As luck, or fate, would have it, he noticed a small hole a few feet from where he stood. This was the hole to the lava tube he yelled to us us from, and the same hole that Keala later enlarged to bring me out.
Sometimes waterfalls, such as Waimea Falls over on the island of Oahu, will land into a nice calm pool of water and people can swim there. But Akana Falls is not one of those places. It falls directly onto jagged rocks. Maybe in another thousand years or so there will be a pool, but for now it’s nothing but them big ol’ rocks. I scouted around for a good hour or so, but for the life of me I couldn’t find a single area that Pete could have landed than on those rocks. I was sitting there staring up at the falls when Keala came over and joined me.
“You like some opihi brah? I got plenty. We take some home for ohana (family), but I got enough to eat some now.”
I’m not sure how to describe opihi except that they’re a small round shellfish found here in Hawai‘i that attaches itself to the rocks above the surf line. They can range in size from about as big as your fingernail to that of a silver dollar. Their shells have a coned shape and underneath the shell is some mighty good eatin’. Tastes like a clam or a muscl
e, only better.
Keala had his bright, flower print lava-lava tied up and inside was a pile of opihi. We sat there for awhile cleaning out the meat, eating opihi, and staring at the falls. Whatever doubts I had that I may have overlooked a place where Pete could have landed were shattered as we watched a fairly good size koa tree branch come out of the top of the falls. The branch seemed to hang momentarily at the lip until the force of the water pushed it over into a long descent toward the bottom. With a loud crash it smashed on the rocks below.
Keala and I watched it silently, but I got up to take a closer look. What was left of the branch had wedged itself into a small crevice between the massive rocks. Nothing could survive a fall like that. I’m not sayin’ I don’t believe Pete, cause that’s like sayin’ the sun won’t rise tomorrow. Pete doesn’t know how to lie, and what he said could only be the truth. But there had to be a logical explanation. As I was looking at that destroyed branch, I saw a sparkle in the water on the rocks. When I reached for it, I almost fell over. Right there, lodged in between a couple of smaller rocks, was a piece of the wheel of a silver spur. And it wasn’t just any spur; it was Paniolo Pete’s spur. Then I remembered that he had been complaining a few days earlier about how long it was taking for his new spurs to arrive by mail. The ones he usually wore had gotten damaged in his “lava tube swim,” as he put it.
Now in all my years, I’ve learned that some things in life cannot be explained and this was one of them. I put the piece of spur in my pocket, rounded up Keala, and headed back to the Double ‘P’ Ranch.
To this day I still have that piece of broken spur from Paniolo Pete’s boot and every time I get to feeling sorry for myself, I take out that spur and think of how fortunate I am. I might not be rich, and I’m certainly not a pretty sight to look at, but I’ve had the best friends a man could ask for. The Kahionas, who are like family to me, Tanga, the tribal war chief from New Zealand, all the boys I’ve ridden with over the years, and especially Paniolo Pete, the best darn friend a man could ever ride the river with. If a man’s wealth is measured by the company he keeps, I reckon I’m one of the richest men alive.
There’s so much more to tell about Paniolo Pete, his travels, and life on the Double ‘P’ Ranch. If you folks will be a might patient with an old bronco rider, the next time I’m snowed in or laid up a spell, I’ll tell y’all some more stories. Like about Pete’s walkabout in the Australian outback or about the time Mrs. Monroe invited us all out to Boston to spend some time on her horse ranch and see the racetrack, or even about Paniolo Pete’s one true love in life. That story is a book all in itself.
Anyhow folks, I reckon I’ve rambled on enough for now. I hope y’all keep enjoyin’ that good Kona coffee we’ve be growin’ for years out here in Hawai‘i on the Double ‘P’ Ranch. As we say in the islands, Aloha.
Bronco Bill
THE END
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