Kulepeamoa, Kupaua, Kuliouou

In the fifth month, in the second year of the new millennium, Sir Jay Man
of Feld dreamed a prophetic dream. In it, he found himself wandering
along mountain trails in three regions.  In his dream, some trails he
romped along had been established generations ago; others had to be
fashioned with brute force and strength. So taken was he by this sleep
vision that Sir Jay sent out word to disciples from the hallowed tribe
once dubbed the WEHOTS. And convinced of the veracity of the apparition
of the Man of Feld, the disciples agreed to accompany him on his quest.

And so it was.  And so it will be written.

At the end of a Place called Kalaau in a valley called Kuliouou,
Jay and the summoned disciples gathered at a brown sign adorned with
bright yellow hieroglyphics, a holy shrine to a tribe called Na Ala Hele,
the keepers of the trails of the land. While facing the shrine, Jay and
the disciples prayed for guidance and wisdom, and a voice from the
heavens told them to go forth as one to the land called Niu and a
mountain ridge called Kulepeamoa.  Thusly, in a holy (holey?) chariot,
guided by Sir Mike of Algiers, the annointed ones set out on their
quest.

Once at Niu, the band of merry men, and one merry woman, commenced the
journey. Let the venerated scrolls of OHE show that the men were Sir Jay
Man of Feld, Sir Mike of Algiers, Sir Jay Son of Sunada, Sir William of
Gorst, and the scribe, Sir Ka of Lama. And she of the fairer sex was
Lady Helene of Sroat.  Ambling amiably in the forest, a motley and
madcap bunch they were.

Soon enough, the pleasant forest trail steepened, and the questers
languished and labored, perspiring in such quantities to sate the dry
stream in the valley below.  But relief came eventually by way of a lovely
breeze-caressed copse of ironwoods atop a mountain called Kulepeamoa,
where the questers cast their bodies down to rest aching limbs, to sup on
sweet snacks, and to soothe parched throats.  Far off to the south, they
spied the bluest of oceans, but, despite its alluring presence, it was
not there they were headed.  It was north they needed to go.

Hastened by Sir Ka of Lama, the merry band recommenced its journey after
the pleasant rest in the ironwood copse.  Over hill dale they
marched, searching for the prophesized place where they would depart the
mountain crest of Kulepeamoa.  And less than a dozen hills northward
from the copse, they found it, in a sheltered dell between hilltops,
amongst  sparse patches of ti and staghorn fern. For future questers,
Sir Jay Man of Feld affixed colorful ribbons to mark the way into a
valley called Kupaua.

Recalling his dream, Sir Jay revealed to his fellow questers a prophecy of
an  ensuing battle in Kupaua.  Thusly, all drew weapons of steel from
their back-borne sacks in anticipation of the impending confrontation.
And the Man from Feld was prophetic indeed, and the battle commenced, with
opposing combatants from the Guava and Christmasberry tribes felled in
great numbers.  Miraculously, none of the questers were struck down, a
testament, no doubt, to the experience gained from many battles waged in
prior quests.

Sir Jay and the disciples battled their way to waterless Kupaua Stream,
leaving a path of destruction in their wake.  Crossing to the stream's far
bank, they continued on, climbing unchallenged at times and jousting with
aggressive Guava and Christmasberry tribesmen at others.  One by one, the
questers thrust their way through the enemy line, fighting a brave
fight to emerge atop the west ridgecrest of Kuliouou.  The last to emerge
was Sir Jay, who proclaimed to all who would listen, "We have battled and
we have won."  He marked the place of proclamation with colorful ribbons,
and he and his fellow questers sat down nearby under a lone ironwood to
for a celebratory feast of sausages, sandwiches, nuts, and sweets.
Sir Jay told of his longing for tortillas made from corn, but none were
seen or to be found.

An hour after noon, with bellies filled with food from the feast, the
questers arose yet again to continue their journey.  Southward they
headed, then downward and leftward into a narrow cleft on a steep slope
covered with needles of ironwood.  A short battle with a wayward tribe of
Guava brought them to a small stream, with stale pools of green water.
Sir Ka of Lama tossed a stone into the largest of murky pools and made
a wish:  "I wish we were riddith of this forsaken place," he said.

"And we will be," said Sir William of Gorst, "once we mount the hill from
hell."  And so it was set forth in Jay's prophetic dream, and so it came
to be. So upward they all went, the mounting of the hell-hill the goal.
Just like on the hills before it, one by one the questers reached the
apex, first Sir Jay Son of Sunada, then one by one the others, casting
their bodies down to rest and rejoice.  "We are here!" said Lady Helene.

"Indeed we are," said the Man from Feld.  "But there is one final test in
our quest: finding the fabled trail made by the lopper-wielding sorcerer
Wing of Ng.  It is south from here."

So rousing themselves once again, southward they headed.

On a rocky hilltop, they found a magic ribbon tied to a vine.  Looking
over the side of the mountain, they saw more ribbons tied to vines and
branches.  Far below, they recognized the Place called Kalaau in the
Valley of Kuliouou and the shrine to Na Ala Hele where they had prayed
for wisdom only hours before. "Ahh, we have found it," said Sir Mike of
Algiers. "The fabled trail is no fable after all."

So down they headed, over rocks, over vines, past branches and trees laid
to waste by the sorcerer Ng.  Whenever there was doubt about which way to
go, they found a magic ribbon pointing the way. "Follow me,"  the ribbons
beckoned, "follow me." In a trance, the questers continued along, down,
down, down.

Led forth by the magic ribbons, they then arrived in a dry stream
filled with a jumble of dead trees and flood-borne branches.  The
sorcerer had fashioned a tunnel through this maze, making for safe
passage for the questers.  "Thank you, Sorcerer Ng," they all proclaimed,
"you are not evil like some make you out to be."

The sorcerer's trail indeed led right to the shrine, and upon arriving
there, each one of the questers sat down near it to pay homage to it and
to give thanks for a journey successfully completed.  Yet another feast
commenced, with Sir Jay offering cold drinks to appease thirst and sweet
cookies to satisfy hunger.

"A great journey it was," said Lady Helene.

"Agreed," echoed her fellows. "We shall do it again someday."

And so it was, and so it will be written.