in front, and spurs jingled from his knee-high boots. "I think you run away from Waipunalei. I take you back to the plantation now," and he led the two prisoners out of the cell.
The two captives were taken back, retracing the twenty miles of weary hike to the plantation which they had vowed they would never lay eyes on again. It was a dusty and weary hike because the gait and pace of the policeman's horse was uniform and steady. Onlookers at the roadside had expressions of mingled emotion or plain apathy when they saw the trio. Pity, contempt, or sympathy depended on each one of the crowd, but only resignation and shame were the feelings left for the prisoners. How were the onlookers to know that they were not criminals or murderers and only men who had sought liberty? The fate of a loser was a shameful one.
"Oh, why did you have to get caught?" were the first words uttered by the interpreter Yamada, who was genuinely sorry when the policeman brought the prisoners back at night. There was no Caucasian overseer around then and he could blurt out his true feelings.
"We tried to escape but fate was against us. Coming back, we had ample time to think. We are young and can take whatever is dished out to us. We will stick it out to the end of the contract."
"Just as well. It may be harder now that you are marked men and you will be segregated in a different camp as punishment but it will be for three months only. You can then rejoin your old friends."
They were thrown in the calaboose and fed only bread and water for two days as punishment, and then they were sent to a special camp where incorrigibles were quartered and those who were used for the most detestable work. Torao was very unhappy about his capture. But by this experience he evolved a new philosophy of life. He had tried escape and failed. It was perhaps inevitable that he should try to explain and console himself regarding this recent escapade and its accompanying failure.
That Okawa did finally succeed in getting to Kohala was evident by a letter received by a man in camp from an assumed name prearranged before their departure. Torao felt that there was some sort of fate linking him to this odious plantation. Perhaps he was predestined to stick to this place and it was not meant that he, a mortal, should say anything about any arrangement that was surely beyond his ken and ability to alter. Therefore he became reconciled to his fate and thereafter acted like a good obedient laborer no matter what the nature of his work turned out to be.
The work assigned to this disciplinary group was the dirtiest and the hardest on the plantation. After three months of this convict camp he was paroled back to his original gang. It is a universal truth that any act, either good or bad, significant enough to be noticed by others, will be remembered by the superiors.
He was soon promoted to be a mule-driver. He was assigned to a mule, holding the handles of a single cultivator with the long rein around his shoulders, and walked between rows of young cane. This was a promotion from the ranks of "hoe-hanamen" as the hoe-wielding laborers were derisively called. His wages remained the same during the term of the contract, but as soon as the period of indenture should end his pay was going to be boosted ten cents a day above that of the hoeing men.
After he had decided to endure whatever befell him his lot became much easier and he was able to have some fun even in this desolate place away from civilization and its comforts. It was during this time that the sad news announcing the death of his only sister, Osada, arrived in a letter that took three months in transit. He kept this news to himself for there was no respite from work for the men and no church to go to. All by himself he repaired to some unfrequented corner near the camp said prayers for the departed soul of his only sister. Without the understanding comfort of their mother, Osada's lot as the only woman in the house besides her step-mother had not been easy and to have died without marrying seemed very unfortunate and pitiful in Torao's conception.
Three years elapsed in due course of time. It was a long three years: yet when it expired it did not seem to have been too long. At last he was a free man to do with his life as he pleased. The death of Osada seemed to have given him the opportunity to take stock of his future—the opportunities back home in Japan in contrast to what this new land of Hawaii seemed to offer. His father seemed to be making good under the capable management of his second wife. The other brother was too young to remember his real mother and seemed to be happy with his half brothers and sisters. The pioneering sturdy blood that enabled his father to do well in the peasant army during the last days of the feudal system was coursing strongly in his young veins. The mental aspiration crushed during the three years of servitude was still there; the energy of the free man was welling up inside his powerful body of twenty-five years.
The third member of this party, Okawa, on that fatal night at Honokaa, ran as fast as his legs would carry him and plunged into the cane field. As he lay flat on the ground feeling his heart pounding wildly against his shirt and the rise and fall of his breath that shook his entire body, he had time to figure things out and the fate of his comrades became his next concern. The ominous quiet and the cessation of the pounding hoofbeats meant either the stalking maneuver of the policeman or his withdrawal empty-handed. In that event he wanted to find out what became of his two companions. Carefully he peered out between the cane stalks from his hiding place and interpreted the plain story in the three figures delineated clearly in the moonlight. The agreement among the trio had been that in case of a happening such as this the surviving one was to make the trip by himself to the destination and establish contact with the ones left behind. Therefore, although tremendously shaken by this sudden turn of events he decided to proceed alone.
When the policeman and his two friends disappeared down the hill he came out of hiding and directed his course in the opposite direction. The road became narrower. In fact, except for the ruts of passing wagons, grass covered the roadbed. The trees were so tall they obstructed the moonlight and dismal darkness lay in his path. There were no wild animals to fear but many cats roamed about the countryside and their bright eyes sent a chill up and down his spine until he discovered what they were. He took five days to cross the plateau. He avoided the highway and in doing this he had to take to the cattle range where the untamed beef cattle of the Parker Estate roamed over the vast rolling grassland by the hundreds.
Not accustomed to cattle either wild or domestic, he had the usual fear of men for the horned beasts. The presence of bulls among them made his adventure more precarious. One night in particular as he lay under an eucalyptus tree and was fast asleep, he felt on his face the breath of a beast nudging against his body. He opened his eyes to discover an inquisitive cow hovering over him. He pretended to be dead and remained motionless and breathless. He had once heard that northerners would act dead when they accidently met a bear in the woods. Wild animals if not carnivorous were not supposed to attack unless they themselves were afraid. A dead man would not be considered dangerous even by the most stupid animal.
Luckily, in the woods there were thimble berries and passion fruit to fill his stomach and he was fortunate to stumble across a banana tree with ripe fruit on it. Once out of the wooded region and onto the grassy land, ripe guava trees dotted the plain but drinking water was a problem. This he solved by scooping up water found in cattle hoof-prints. Cowboys were not in attendance on these cattle as the Parker Estate comprised hundreds of thousands of acres and was one of the largest cattle ranches of the world. There were no fences for miles and miles.
Okawa was very careful in conserving the precious pancakes he had been given at Honokaa and decided to keep them until no fruit was obtainable. When he saw the village of Kamuela in the distance among the groves of eucalyptus trees he made a wide detour and skirted the base of the hill to the east. Then he found himself in the drier section of the plateau and headed for Kohala which he figured would be toward the sea to his right. The terrain took on a sudden change in appearance and there was no longer the abundance of moisture and luxuriance of vegetation. Grass was sparse and cacti and lantana dotted the landscape. He had to be careful about discovery as natural obstacles behind which he might hide became scarce. He sheered away from the highway and travelled in the heart of the cattle ranch heading downward toward the seashore. He became accustomed to the glassy stare of cattle and had learned that they were harmless unless he had aggressive intentions against them.
Finally, he came to a gulch and followed it toward the sea. Then he came to cultivated cane fields. On looking down further, he espied the red corrugated iron roofs