PART IV · Part 1

PART IV

Love tousled Waimea with shafts of the wind, While Kipuupuu puffed jealous gusts. Love is a tree that blights in the cold, But thrives in the woods of Mahiki. 5 Smitten art thou with the blows of love; Luscious the water-drip in the wilds; Wearied and bruised is the flower of Koaie; Stung by the frost the herbage of Wai-ka-é: And this—it is love. 10 Wai-ká loves me like a sweetheart. Dear as my heart Koolau’s yellow eye, My flower in the tangled wood, Hule-í-a, A travel-wreath to lay on love’s breast, A shade to cover my journey’s long climb. 15 Love-touched, distraught, mine a wilderness-home; But still do I cherish the old spot, For love—it is love. Your love visits me even here: Where has it been hiding till now?

PAUKU 2

Kau ka ha-é-a, kau o ka hana wa ele, Ke ala-ula ka makani, Kulu a e ka ua i kou wahi moe. Palepale i na auwai o lalo; 5 Eli mawaho o ka hale o Koolau, e. E lau Koolau, he aina ko’e-ko’e; Maka’u i ke anu ka uka o ka Lahuloa. Loa ia mea, na’u i waiho aku ai.

[Page 70]

[Translation.]

STANZA 2

A mackerel sky, time for foul weather; The wind raises the dust— Thy couch is a-drip with the rain; Open the door, let’s trench about the house: 5 Koolau, land of rain, will shoot green leaves. I dread the cold of the uplands. An adventure that of long ago.

The poem above given from beginning to end is figurative, a piece of far-fetched, enigmatical symbolism in the lower plane of human nature.

PAUKU 3

Hoe Puna i ka wa’a po-lolo’[184] a ka ino; Ha-uke-uke i ka wa o Koolau: Eha e! eha la! Eha i ku’i-ku’i o ka Ulu-mano.[185] 5 Hala ’e ka walu-ihe a ke A’e,[186] Ku iho i ku’i-ku’i a ka Ho-li’o;[187] Hana ne’e ke kikala o ko Hilo Kini. Ho’i lu’u-lu’u i ke one o Hana-kahi,[188] I ka po-lolo’ ua wahine o ka lua: 10 Mai ka lua no, e!

[Translation.]

STANZA 3

Puna plies paddle night-long in the storm; Is set back by a shift in the weather, Feels hurt and disgruntled; Dismayed at slap after slap of the squalls; 5 Is struck with eight blows of Typhoon; Then smit with the lash of the North wind. Sad, he turns back to Hilo’s sand-beach: He’ll shake the town with a scandal— The night-long storm with the hag of the pit, 10 Hag from Gehenna!

[Footnote 184: _Po-lolo_. A secret word, like a cipher, made up for the occasion and compounded of two words, _po_, night, and _loloa_, long, the final _a_, of _loloa_ being dropped. This form of speech was called _kepakepa_, and was much used by the Hawaiians in old times.]

[Footnote 185: _Ulu-mano_. A violent wind which blows by night only on the western side of Hawaii. Kamehameha with a company of men was once wrecked by this wind off Nawawa; a whole village was burned to light them ashore. (Dictionary of the Hawaiian Language, by Lorrin Andrews.)]

[Footnote 186: _Walu-ihe a ke A’e_. The _A’e_ is a violent wind that is described as blowing from different points of the compass in succession; a circular storm. _Walu-ihe_—eight spears—was a name applied to this same wind during a certain portion of its circuitous range, covering at least eight different points, as observed by the Hawaiians. It was well fitted, therefore, to serve as a figure descriptive of eight different lovers, who follow each other in quick succession, in the favors of the same wanton.]

[Footnote 187: _Ho-li’o_ The name of a wind, but of an entirely different character from those above mentioned.]

[Footnote 188: _Hana-kahi_. (See note _f_, p. 60.)] [Page 71]

This is not a line-for-line translation; that the author found infeasible. Line 8 of the English represents line 7 of the Hawaiian. Given more literally, it might be, “He’ll shake the buttocks of Hilo’s forty thousand.”

The metaphor of this song is disjointed, but hot with the primeval passions of humanity.

PAUKU 4

Ho-ina-inau mea ipo i ka nahele; Haa-kokoe ana ka maka i ka Moani, I ka ike i na pua i hoomahie ’Iuna; Ua hi-hi-hina wale i ka moe awakea. 5 Ka ino’ ua poina ia Mali’o. Aia ka i Pua-lei o Ha’o. I Puna no ka waihona o ka makani; Kaela ka malama ana a ka Pu’u-lena, I kahi mea ho-aloha-loha, e! 10 E aloha, e!

[Translation.]

STANZA 4

Love is at play in the grove, A jealous swain glares fierce At the flowers tying love-knots, Lying wilted at noon-tide. 5 So you’ve forgotten Mali’o, Turned to the flower of Puna— Puna, the cave of shifty winds. Long have I cherished this blossom, A treasure hid in my heart! 10 Oh, sweetheart!

The following account is taken from the Polynesian Researches of the Rev. William Ellis, the well-known English missionary, who visited these islands in the years 1822 and 1823, and whose recorded observations have been of the highest value in preserving a knowledge of the institutions of ancient Hawaii.

In the afternoon, a party of strolling musicians and dancers arrived at Kairua. About four o’clock they came, followed by crowds of people, and arranged themselves on a fine sandy beach in front of one of the governor’s houses, where they exhibited a native dance, called _hura araapapa_.

The five musicians first seated themselves in a line on the ground, and spread a piece of folded cloth on the sand before them. Their instrument was a large calabash, or rather two, one of an oval shape about three feet high, the other perfectly round, very neatly fastened to it, having also an aperture about three inches in diameter at the top. Each musician held his instrument before him with both hands, and produced his music by striking it on the ground, where he had laid a piece of cloth, and beating it with his fingers, or the palms of his hands. As soon as they began to sound their calabashes, the dancer, a young man about the middle stature, advanced through the opening crowd. [Page 72] His jet-black hair hung in loose and flowing ringlets on his naked shoulders; his necklace was made of a vast number of strings of nicely braided human hair, tied together behind, while a _paraoa_ (an ornament made of a whale’s tooth) hung pendent from it on his breast; his wrists were ornamented with bracelets formed of polished tusks of the hog, and his ankles with loose buskins, thickly set with dog’s teeth, the rattle of which, during the dance, kept time with the music of the calabash drum. A beautiful yellow tapa was tastefully fastened round his loins, reaching to his knees. He began his dance in front of the musicians, and moved forward and backwards, across the area, occasionally chanting the achievements of former kings of Hawaii. The governor sat at the end of the ring, opposite to the musicians, and appeared gratified with the performance, which continued until the evening. (Vol. IV, 100–101, London, Fisher, Son & Jackson, 1831.)

NOTE BY THE AUTHOR.—At the time of Mr. Ellis’ visit to Hawaii the orthography of the Hawaiian language was still in a formative stage, and it is said that his counsels had influence in shaping it. His use of _r_ instead of _l_ in the words _hula, alaapapa_, and _palaoa_ may, therefore, be ascribed to the fact of his previous acquaintance with the dialects of southern Polynesia, in which the sound of _r_ to a large extent substitutes that of _l_, and to the probability that for that reason his ear was already attuned to the prevailing southern fashion, and his judgment prepossessed in that direction.

[Illustration: PLATE VII IPU HULA, GOURD DRUM]

[Page 73]

X.—THE HULA PA-ÍPU, OR KUÓLO

The _pa-ípu_, called also the _kuólo_, was a hula of dignified character, in which all the performers maintained the kneeling position and accompanied their songs with the solemn tones of the _ípu_ (pl. vii), with which each one was provided. The proper handling of this drumlike instrument in concert with the cantillation of the mele made such demands upon the artist, who was both singer and instrumentalist, that only persons of the most approved skill and experience were chosen to take part in the performance of this hula.

The manner of treating the ípu in this hula differed somewhat from that employed in the ala’a-papa, being subdued and quiet in that, whereas in the pa-ípu it was at times marked with great vigor and demonstrativeness, so that in moments of excitement and for the expression of passion, fierce joy, or grief the ípu might be lifted on high and wildly brandished. It thus made good its title as the most important instrument of the Hawaiian orchestra.

In the pa-ípu, as in the hulas generally, while the actors were sometimes grouped according to sex, they were quite as often distributed indiscriminately, the place for the leader, the kumu, being the center.

The vigor that marks the literary style of the mele now given stamps it as belonging to the archaic period, which closed in the early part of the eighteenth century, that century which saw the white man make his advent in Hawaii. The poem deals apparently with an incident in one of the migrations such as took place during the period of intercourse between the North and the South Pacific. This was a time of great stir and contention, a time when there was much paddling and sailing about and canoe-fleets, often manned by warriors, traversed the great ocean in every direction. It was then that Hawaii received many colonists from the archipelagoes that lie to the southward.

_Mele_

(Ko’i-honua)

Wela Kahiki, e! Wela Kahiki, e! Wela aku la Kahiki; Ua kaulu-wela ka moku; [Page 74] 5 Wela ka ulu o Hawaii; Kakala wela aku la Kahiki ia Olopana,[189] Ka’u wahi kanaka; O ka hei kapu[190] o Hana-ka-ulani,[191] Ka hei kapu a ke alii, 10 Ka hoo-mamao-lani,[192] Ke kapu o Keawe,[193] A o Keawe Ke alii holo, ho-i’a i kai, e-e!

[Footnote 189: _Olopana_. A celebrated king of Waipio valley, Hawaii, who had to wife the famous beauty, Luukia. Owing to misfortune, he sailed away to _Kahiki_, taking with him his wife and his younger brother, Moikeha, who was his _puna-lua_, settling in a land called _Moa-ula-nui-akea_. Olopana probably ended his days in his new-found home, but Moi-keha, heart-sick at the loss of Luukia’s favors, came back to Hawaii and became the progenitor of a line of distinguished men, several of whom were famous navigators. Exactly what incident in the life of Olopana is alluded to in the sixth and preceding verses, the traditions that narrate his adventures do not inform us.]

[Footnote 190: _Hei kapu_. An oracle; the place where the high priest kept himself while consulting the deities of the _heiau_. It was a small house erected on an elevated platform of stones, and there he kept himself in seclusion at such times as he sought to be the recipient of communications from the gods.]

[Footnote 191: _Hana-ka-ulani_. A name applied to several _heiau_ (temples). The first one so styled, according to tradition, was built at Hana, Maui, and another one at Kaluanui, on Oahu, near the famous valley of Ka-liu-wa’a. These heiau are said to have been built by the gods in the misty past soon after landing on these shores. Was it to celebrate their escape from perils by sea and enemies on land, or was it in token of thankfulness to gods still higher than themselves?

The author’s informant can not tell whether these followed the fierce, strict cult of Kane or the milder cult of Lono.]

[Footnote 192: _Hoo-mamao-lani_. An epithet meaning remote in the heavens, applied to an alii of very high rank.]

[Footnote 193: _Keawe_. This is a name that belonged, to several kings and a large family of gods—_papa akua_—all of which gods are said to have come from Kahiki and to have dated their origin from the _Wa Po_, the twilight of antiquity. Among the demigods that were called _Keawe_ may be mentioned: (1) _Keawe-huli_, a prophet and soothsayer. (2) _Keawe-kilo-pono_, a wise and righteous one, who loved justice. (3) _Keawe-hula-maemae_. It was his function to maintain purity and cleanliness; he was a devouring flame that destroyed rubbish and all foulness. (4) _Keawe-ula-o-ka-lani_. This was the poetical appellation, given to the delicate flush of early morning. Apropos of this the Hawaiians have the following quatrain, which they consider descriptive not only of morning blush, but also of the coming in of the reign of the gods:

O Keawe-ula-i-ka-lani, O Keawe-liko-i-ka-lani, O Ke’awe-uina-pohá-i-Kahiki; Hiki mai ana o Lono.[Translation.]

Keawe-the-red-blush-of-dawn, Keawe-the-bud-in-the-sky, Keawe-thunder-burst-at-Kahiki: Till Lono comes in to reign.

(5) _Keawe-pa-makani_. It was his function to send winds from _Kukulu-o-Kahiki_, as well as from some other points. (6) _Keawe-ío-ío-moa_. This god inspected the ocean tides and currents, such as _Au-miki_ and _Au-ká_. (7) _Keawe-i-ka-liko_. He took charge of flowerbuds and tender shoots, giving them a chance to develop. (8) _Keawe-ulu-pu_. It was his function to promote the development and fruitage of plants. (9) _Keawe-lu-pua_. He caused flowers to shed their petals. (10) _Keawe-opala_. It was his thankless task to create rubbish and litter by scattering the leaves of the trees. (11) _Keawe-hulu_, a magician, who could blow a feather into the air and see it at once become a bird with power to fly away. (12) _Keawe-nui-ka-ua-o-Hilo_, a sentinel who stood guard by night and by day to watch over all creation. (13) _Keawe-pulehu_. He was a thief and served as [Page 75] cook for the gods. There were gods of evil as well as of good in this set. (14) _Keawe-oili_. He was gifted with the power to convey and transfer evil, sickness, misfortune, and death. (15) _Keawe-kaili_. He was a robber. (16) _Keawe-aihue_. He was a thief. (17) _Keawe-makilo_. He was a beggar. He would stand round while others were preparing food, doing honest work, and plead with his eyes. In this way he often obtained a dole. (18) _Keawe-puni-pua’a_. He was a glutton, very greedy of pork; he was also called _Keawe-ai-pua’a_. (19) _Keawe-inoino_. He was a sloven, unclean in all his ways. (20) _Keawe-ilio_. The only title to renown of this superhuman creature was his inordinate fondness for the flesh of the dog. So far none of the superhuman beings mentioned seemed fitted to the role of the Keawe of the text, who was passionately fond of the sea. The author had given up in despair, when one day, on repeating his inquiry in another quarter, he was rewarded by learning of—(21) _Keawe-i-na-kai_. He was a resident of the region about the southeastern point of Molokai, called _Lae-ka-Ilio_—Cape of the Dog. He was extravagantly fond of the ocean and allowed no weather to interfere with the indulgence of his penchant. An epithet applied to him describes his dominating passion: _Keawe moe i ke kai o Kohakú_, Keawe who sleeps in (or on) the sea of Kohakú. It seems probable that this was the Keawe mentioned in the twelfth and thirteenth lines of the mele.

The appellation _Keawe_ seems to have served as a sort of Jack among the demigods of the Hawaiian pantheon, on whom was to be laid the burden of a mongrel host of virtues and vices that were not assignable to the regular orthodox deities. Somewhat in the same way do we use the name Jack as a caption, for a miscellaneous lot of functions, as when we speak of a “Jack-at-all-trades.”]

[Translation.]

Song

(Distinct utterance)

Glowing is Kahiki, oh! Glowing is Kahiki! Lo, Kahiki is a-blaze, The whole island a-burning. 5 Scorched is thy scion, Hawaii. Kahiki shoots flame-tongues at Olopana, That hero of yours, and priest Of the oracle Hana-ka-ulani, The sacred shrine of the king— 10 He is of the upper heavens, The one inspired by Keawe, That tabu-famous Keawe, The king passion-fond of the sea.

_Mele_

PALE I

Lau lehua punoni ula ke kai o Kona, Ke kai punoni ula i oweo ia; Wewena ula ke kai la, he kokona; Ula ia kini i ka uka o Alaea, 5 I hili ahi ula i ke kapa a ka wahine, I hoeu ia e ka ni’a, e ka hana, E ka auwai lino mai la a kehau. He hau hoomoe ka lau o ka niu, Ke oho o ka laau, lauoho loloa. 10 E lóha ana i ka la i o Kailua la, i-u-a, O ke ku moena ololi a ehu O ku’u aina kai paeaea. Ea, hoea iluna o Mauna Kilohana, Na kaha poohiwi mau no he inoa. 15 Ua noa e, ua pii’a kou wahi kapu, e-e! I a’e ’a mai e ha’i.

[Page 76]

[Translation.]

_Song_

CANTO I

Leaf of lehua and noni-tint, the Kona sea, Iridescent saffron and red, Changeable watered red, peculiar to Kona; Red are the uplands Alaea; 5 All, ’tis the flame-red stained robes of women Much tossed by caress or desire. The weed-tangled water-way shines like a rope of pearls, Dew-pearls that droop the coco leaf, The hair of the trees, their long locks— 10 Lo, they wilt in the heat of Kailua the deep. A mat spread out narrow and gray, A coigne of land by the sea where the fisher drops hook. Now looms the mount Kilohana— Ah, ye wood-shaded heights, everlasting your fame! 15 Your tabu is gone! your holy of holies invaded! Broke down by a stranger!

The intricately twisted language of this mele is allegorical, a rope whose strands are inwrought with passion, envy, detraction, and abuse. In translating it one has to choose between the poetic verbal garb and the esoteric meaning which the bard made to lurk beneath the surface.

_Mele_

PALE II

Kauó pu ka iwa kala-pahe’e, Ka iwa, ka manu o Kaula i ka makani. E ka manu o-ú pani-wai o Lehua, O na manu kapu a Kuhai-moana, 5 Mai hele a luna o Lei-no-ai, O kolohe, o alai mai ka Unu-lau. Puni’a iluna o ka Halau-a-ola; A ola aku i ka luna o Maka-iki-olea, I ka lulu, i ka la’i o kai maio, 10 Ma ka ha’i-wá, i ka mole o Lehua la, Le-hú-a! O na lehua o Alaka’i ka’u aloha, O na lehua iluna o Ko’i-alana; Ua nonoho hooipo me ke kohe-kohe; Ua anu, maeele i ka ua noe. 15 Ua mai oe; kau a’e ka naná, laua nei, e-e, Na ’lii e o’oni mai nei, e-e!

[Translation.]

_Song_

CANTO II

The iwa flies heavy to nest in the brush, Its haunt on windy Ke-ula. The watch-bird, that fends off the rain from Le-hu-a— [Page 77] Bird sacred to Ku-hai, the shark-god— 5 Shrieks, “Light not on terrace of Lei-no-ai, Lest Unu-lau fiercely assail you.” Storm sweeps the cliffs of the islet; A covert they seek neath the hills, In the sheltered lee of the gale, 10 The cove at the base of Le-hu-a. The shady groves there enchant them, The scarlet plumes of lehua. Love-dalliance now by the water-reeds, Till cooled and appeased by the rain-mist. 15 Pour on, thou rain, the two heads press the pillow: Lo, prince and princess stir in their sleep!

The scene of this mele is laid on one of the little bird-islands that lie to the northwest of Kauai. The _iwa_ bird, flying heavily to his nesting place in the wiry grass (_kala-pahee_), symbolizes the flight of a man in his deep-laden pirogue, abducting the woman of his love. The screaming sea-birds that warn him off the island, represented as watch-guards of the shark-god Kuhai-moana (whose reef is still pointed out), figure the outcries of the parents and friends of the abducted woman.

After the first passionate outburst (_Puni’a iluna o ka Halau-a-ola_) things go more smoothly (ola, ...). The flight to covert from the storm, the cove at the base of Le-hu-a, the shady groves, the scarlet pompons of the lehua—the tree and the island have the same name—all these things are to be interpreted figuratively as emblems of woman’s physical charms and the delights of love-dalliance.

_Mele_

PALE III

(Ai-ha’a)

Ku aku la Kea-aú, lele ka makani mawaho, Ulu-mano, ma ke kaha o Wai-o-lono. Ua moani lehua a’e la mauka; Kani lehua iluna o Kupa-koili, 5 I ka o ia i ka lau o ka hala, Ke poo o ka hala o ke aku’i. E ku’i e, e ka uwalo. Loli ka mu’o o ka hala, A helelei ka pua, a pili ke alanui: 10 Pu ia Pana-ewa, ona-ona i ke ala, I ka nahele makai o Ka-unu-loa la. Nani ke kaunu, ke kaunu a ke alii, He puni ina’i poi na maua. Ua hala ke Kau a me ka Hoilo, 15 Mailaila mai no ka hana ino. Ino mai oe, noho malie aku no hoi au; Hopo o’ ka inaina, ka wai, e-e; Wiwo au, hopohopo iho nei, e-e! [Page 78]

[Translation.]

_Song_

CANTO III

(In turgid style)

A storm, from the sea strikes Ke-au, Ulu-mano, sweeping across the barrens; It sniffs the fragrance of upland lehua, Turns back at Kupa-koili; 5 Sawed by the blows of the palm leaves, The groves of pandanus in lava shag; Their fruit he would string ’bout his neck; Their fruit he finds wilted and crushed, Mere rubbish to litter the road— 10 Ah, the perfume! Pana-ewa is drunk with the scent; The breath of it spreads through the groves. Vainly flares the old king’s passion, Craving a sauce for his meat and mine. The summer has flown; winter has come: 15 Ah, that is the head of our troubles. Palsied are you and helpless am I; You shrink from a plunge in the water; Alas, poor me! I’m a coward.

The imagery of this mele sets forth the story of the fierce, but fruitless, love-search of a chief, who is figured by the _Ulu-mano_, a boisterous wind of Puna, Hawaii. The fragrance of upland lehua (_moani lehua, a’e la mauka_, verse 3) typifies the charms of the woman he pursues. The expression _kani lehua_ (verse 4), literally the sudden ending of a rain-squall, signifies the man’s failure to gain his object. The lover seeks to string the golden drupe of the pandanus (_halo_), that he may wear them as a wreath about his neck (_uwalo_); he is wounded by the teeth of the sword-leaves (_o ia i ka lau o ka hala_, verse 5). More than this, he meets powerful, concerted resistance (_ke poo o ka hala o ke aku’i_, verse 6), offered by the compact groves of pandanus that grow in the rough lava-shag (_aku’i_), typifying, no doubt, the resistance made by the friends and retainers of the woman. After all, he finds, or declares that he finds, the hala fruit he had sought to gather and to wear as a _lei_ about his neck, to be spoiled, broken, fit only to litter the road (_loli ka mu’o o ka hala_, verse 8; _A helelei ka’pua, a pili ke alanui_, verse 9). In spite of his repulse and his vilification of the woman, his passion, still feeds on the thought of the one he has lost; her charms intoxicate his imagination, even as the perfume of the hala bloom bewitches the air of Pana-ewa (_Pu ia Panaewa, ona-ona i ke ala_, verse 10).

It is difficult to interpret verses 12 to 18 in harmony with the story as above given. They may be regarded as a [Page 79] commentary on the passionate episode in the life of the lover, looked at from the standpoint of old age, at a time when passion still survives but physical strength is in abeyance.

As the sugar-boiler can not extract from the stalk the last grain of sugar, so the author finds it impossible in any translation to express the full intent of these Hawaiian mele.

_Mele_

PALE IV

Aole au e hele ka li’u-lá o Maná, Ia wai oupe-kanaka[194] o Lima-loa;[195] A e hoopunipuni ia a’e nei ka malihini; A mai puni au: lie wai oupe na. 5 He ala-pahi ka li’u-lá o Maná; Ke poloai[196] la i ke Koolau-wahine.[197] Ua ulu mai ka hoaloha i Wailua, A ua kino-lau[198] Kawelo[199] mahamaha-i’a’[200] [Page 80] A ua aona[201] mai nei lio oiwi e. 10 He mea e wale au e noho aku nei la. Noho. O ka noho kau a ka mea waiwai; O kau ka i’a a haawi ia mai. Oli-oli au ke loaa ia oe. 15 A pela ke ahi o Ka-maile,[202] He alualu hewa a’e la ka malihini, Kukuni hewa i ka ili a kau ka uli, e; Kau ka uli a ka mea aloha, e.

[Footnote 194: _Wai oupe-kanaka_. Man-fooling water; the mirage.]

[Footnote 195: _Lima-loa_. The long-armed, the god of the mirage, who made his appearance at Maná, Kauai.]

[Footnote 196: _Poloai_. To converse with, to have dealings with one.]

[Footnote 197: _Koolau-wahine_. The sea-breeze at Mana. There is truth as well as poetry in the assertion made in this verse. The warm moist air, rising from the heated sands of Maná, did undoubtedly draw in the cool breeze from the ocean—a fruitful dalliance.]

[Footnote 198: _Kino-lau_. Having many (400) bodies, or metamorphoses, said of Kawelo.]

[Footnote 199: _Kawelo_. A sorcerer who lived in the region of Maná. His favorite metamorphosis was into the form of a shark. Even when in human form he retained the gills of a fish and had the mouth of a shark at the back of his shoulders, while to the lower part of his body were attached the tail and flukes of a shark. To conceal these monstrous appendages he wore over his shoulders a _kihei_ of kapa and allowed himself to be seen only while in the sitting posture. He sometimes took the form of a worm, a moth, a caterpillar, or a butterfly to escape the hands of his enemies. On land he generally appeared as a man squatting, after the manner of a Hawaiian gardener while weeding his garden plot.

The cultivated lands of Kawelo lay alongside the much-traveled path to the beach where the people of the neighborhood resorted to bathe, to fish, and to swim in the ocean. He made a practice of saluting the passers-by and of asking them, “Whither are you going?” adding the caution, “Look to it that you are not swallowed head and tail by the shark; he has not breakfasted yet” (_E akahele oukou o pau po’o, pau hi’u i ka manó; aohe i paina i kakahiaka o ka manó_). As soon as the traveler had gone on his way to the ocean, Kawelo hastened to the sea and there assumed his shark-form. The tender flesh of children was his favorite food. The frequent utterance of the same caution, joined to the great mortality among the children and youth who resorted to the ocean at this place, caused a panic among the residents. The parents consulted a soothsayer, who surprised them with the information that the guilty one was none other than the innocent-looking farmer, Kawelo. Instructed by the soothsayer, the people made an immense net of great strength and having very fine meshes. This they spread in the ocean at the bathing place. Kawelo, when caught in the net, struggled fiendishly to break away, but in vain. According to directions, they flung the body of the monster into an enormous oven which they had heated to redness, and supplied with fresh fuel for five times ten days—_elima anahulu_. At the end of that time there remained only gray ashes. The prophet had commanded them that when this had been accomplished they must fill the pit of the oven with dry dirt; thus doing, the monster would never come to life. They neglected this precaution. A heavy rain flooded the country—the superhuman work of the sorcerer—and from the moistened ashes sprang into being a swarm of lesser sharks. From them have come the many species of shark that now infest our ocean.

The house which once was Kawelo’s ocean residence is still pointed out, 7 fathoms deep, a structure regularly built of rocks.]

[Footnote 200: _Maha-maha i’a_. The gills or fins of a fish such as marked Kawelo.]

[Footnote 201: _Aona_. A word of doubtful meaning; according to one it means lucky. That expounder (T—— P——) says it should, or-might be, _haona_; he instances the phrase _iwi paoa_, in which the word _paoa_ has a similar, but not identical, form and means lucky bone.]

[Footnote 202: _Ka-maile_. A place on Kauai where prevailed the custom of throwing firebrands down the lofty precipice of Nuololo. This amusement made a fine display at night. As the fire-sticks fell they swayed and drifted in the breeze, making it difficult for one standing below to premise their course through the air and to catch one of them before it struck the ground or the water, that being one of the objects of the sport. When a visitor had accomplished this feat, he would sometimes mark his flesh with the burning stick that he might show the brand to his sweetheart as a token of his fidelity.]

[Translation.]

_Song_

CANTO IV

I will not chase the mirage of Maná, That man-fooling mist of god Lima-loa, Which still deceives the stranger— And came nigh fooling me—the tricksy water! 5 The mirage of Maná, is a fraud; it Wantons with the witch Koolau. A friend has turned up at Wailua, Changeful Kawelo, with gills like a fish, Has power to bring luck in any queer shape. 10 As a stranger now am I living, Aye, living. You flaunt like a person of wealth, Yours the fish, till it comes to my hook. I am blest at receiving from you: 15 Like fire-sticks flung at Ka-maile— The visitor vainly chases the brand: Fool! he burns his flesh to gain, the red mark, A sign for the girl he loves, oho!

_Mele_

PALE V

(Ai-ha’a, a he Ko’i-honua paha)

Kauhua Ku, ka Lani, i-loli ka moku; Hookohi ke kua-koko o ka Lani; He kua-koko, pu-koko i ka honua; He kua-koko kapu no ka Lani; [Page 81] 5 He ko’i ula ana a maku’i i ka ala, Hoomau ku-wá mahu ia, Ka maka o ke ahi alii e a nei. Ko mai ke keiki koko a ka Lani, Ke keiki he nuuhiwa ia Hitu-kolo, 10 O ke keiki hiapo anuenue, iloko o ka manawa, O hi ka wai nui o ka nuuhiwa a Ke-opu-o-lani, O ua alii lani alewa-lewa nei, E u-lele, e ku nei ma ka lani; O ka Lani o na mu’o-lau o Liliha, 15 Ka hakina, ka pu’e, ka maka, o Kuhi-hewa a Lola— Kalola, nana ke keiki laha-laha; Ua kela, he kela ka pakela O na pahi’a loa o ka pu likoliko i ka lani O kakoo hulu manu o o-ulu, 20 O ka hulu o-ku’i lele i ka lani, O hiapo o ka manu leina a Pokahi, O Ka-lani-opu’u hou o ka moku, O na kupuna koikoi o Keoua, o ka Lani Kui-apo-iwa.

[Translation.]

_Song_

CANTO V

(To be recited in bombastic style, or, it may be, distinctly)

Big with child is the Princess Ku; The whole island suffers her whimsies; The pangs of labor are on her; Labor that stains the land with blood, 5 Blood-clots of the heavenly born, To preserve and guard the royal line, The spark of king-fire now glowing: A child is he of heavenly stock, Like the darling of Hitu-kolo, 10 First womb-fruit born to love’s rainbow. A bath for this child of heaven’s breast, This mystical royal offspring, Who ranks with the heavenly peers, This tender bud of Liliha, 15 This atom, this parcel, this flame, In the line Kuhi-hewa of Lola— Ka-lola, who mothered a babe prodigious, For glory and splendor renowned, A scion most comely from heaven, 20 The finest down of the new-grown plume, From bird whose moult floats to heaven, Prime of the soaring birds of Pokahi, The prince, heaven-flower of the island, Ancestral sire of Ke-oua, 25 And of King Kui-apo-iwa.

[Page 82]

The heaping up of adulations, of which this mele is a capital instance, was not peculiar to Hawaiian poetry. The Roman Senate bestowed divinity on its emperors by vote; the Hawaiian bard laureate, careering on his Pegasus, thought to accomplish the same end by piling Ossa on Pelion with high-flown phrases; and every loyal subject added his contribution to the cairn that grew heavenward.

In Hawaii, as elsewhere, the times of royal debasement, of aristocratic degeneracy, of doubtful or disrupted succession, have always been the times of loudest poetic insistence on birth-rank and the occasion for the most frenzied utterance of high-sounding titles. This is a disease that has grown with the decay of monarchy.

Applying this criterion to the mele above given, it may be judged to be by no means a product wholly of the archaic period. While certain parts, say from the first to the tenth verses, inclusive, bear the mark of antiquity, the other parts do not ring clear. It seems as if some poet of comparatively modern times had revamped an old mele to suit his own ends. Of this last part two verses were so glaringly an interpolation that they were expunged from the text.

The effort to translate into pure Anglo-Saxon this vehement outpour of high-colored phrases has made heavy demands on the vocabulary and has strained the idioms of our speech well-nigh to the point of protest.

In lines 1, 2, 4, 8, 14, and 23 the word _Lani_ means a prince or princess, a high chief or king, a heavenly one. In lines 12, 13, 18, and 20 the same word _lani_ means the heavens, a concept in the Hawaiian mind that had some far-away approximation to the Olympus of classic Greece.

_Mele_

Ooe no paha ia, e ka lau o ke aloha, Oia no paha ia ke kau mai nei ka hali’a. Ke hali’a-li’a mai nei ka maka, Manao hiki mai no paha au anei. 5 Hiki mai no la ia, na wai e uwe aku? Ua pau kau la, kau ike iaia; Ka manawa oi’ e ai ka manao iloko. Ua luu iho nei au i ke kai nui; Nui ka ukiuki, paio o ka naau. 10 Aohe kanaka eha ole i ke aloha. A wahine e oe, kanaka e au; He mau alualu ka ha’i e lawe. Ike aku i ke kula i’a o Ka-wai-nui. Nui ka opala ai o Moku-lana. 15 Lana ka limu pae hewa o Makau-wahine. O ka wahine no oe, o ke kane no ia. Hiki mai no la ia, na wai e uwe aku? Hoi mai no la ia, a ia wai e uwe aku?

[Page 83]

[Translation.]

_Song_

Methinks it is you, leaf plucked from Love’s tree, You mayhap, that stirs my affection. There’s a tremulous glance of the eye, The thought she might chance yet to come: 5 But who then would greet her with song? Your day has flown, your vision of her— A time this for gnawing the heart. I’ve plunged just now in deep waters: Oh the strife and vexation of soul! 10 No mortal goes scathless of love. A wife thou estranged, I a husband estranged, Mere husks to be cast to the swine.[203] Look, the swarming of fish at the weir! Their feeding grounds on the reef 15 Are waving with mosses abundant. Thou art the woman, that one your man— At her coming who’ll greet her with song? Her returning, who shall console?

[Footnote 203: In the original, _He mau alualu ka ha’i e lawe_, literally “Some skins for another to take.”]

This song almost explains itself. It is the soliloquy of a lover estranged from his mistress. Imagination is alive in eye and ear to everything that may bring tidings of her, even of her unhoped-for return. Sometimes he speaks as if addressing the woman who has gone from him, or he addresses himself, or he personifies some one who speaks to him, as in the sixth line: “Your day has flown, ...”

The memory of past vexation and anguish extorts the philosophic remark, “No mortal goes scathless of love.” He gives over the past, seeks consolation in a new attachment—he dives, _lu’u_, into the great ocean, “deep waters,” of love, at least in search of love. The old self (selves), the old love, he declares to be only _alualu_, empty husks.

He—it is evidently a man—sets forth the wealth of comfort, opulence, that surrounds him in his new-found peace. The scene, being laid in the land Kailua, Oahu—the place to which the enchanted tree _Maka-léi_[204] was carried long ago, from which time its waters abounded in fish—fish are naturally the symbol of the opulence that now bless his life. But, in spite of the new-found peace and prosperity that attend him, there is a lonely corner in his heart; the old question echoes in its vacuum, “Who’ll greet her with song? who shall console?”

[Footnote 204: _Maka-léi_. (See note _b_, p. 17.)]

[Page 84]

_Mele_

O Ewa, aina kai ula i ka lepo, I ula i ka makani anu Moa’e, Ka manu ula i ka lau ka ai, I palahe’a ula i ke kai o Kuhi-á.

5 Mai kuhi mai oukou e, owau ke kalohe; Aohe na’u, na lakou no a pau. Aohe hewa kekahi keiki a ke kohe. Ei’ a’e; oia no paha ia. I lono oukou ia wai, e, ua moe?

10 Oia kini poai o lakou la paha? Ike aku ia ka mau’u hina-hina— He hina ko’u, he aka mai ko ia la. I aka mai oe i kou la manawa le’a; A manawa ino, nui mai ka nuku,

15 Hoomokapu, hoopale mai ka maka, Hoolahui wale mai i a’u nei. E, oia paha; ae, oia no paha ia.

[Translation.]

_Song_

Ewa’s lagoon is red with dirt— Dust blown by the cool Moa’e, A plumage red on the taro leaf, An ocherous tint in the bay.

5 Say not in your heart that I am the culprit. Not I, but they, are at fault. No child of the womb is to blame. There goes, likely he is the one. Who was it blabbed of the bed defiled?

10 It must have been one of that band. But look at the rank grass beat down— For my part, I tripped, the other one smiled. You smiled in your hour of pleasure; But now, when crossed, how you scold!

15 Avoiding the house, averting the eyes— You make of me a mere stranger. Yes it’s probably so, he’s the one.

A poem this full of local color. The plot of the story, as it may be interpreted, runs somewhat as follows: While the man of the house, presumably, is away, it would seem—fishing, perhaps, in the waters of Ewa’s “shamrock lagoon”—the mistress sports with a lover. The culprit impudently defends himself with chaff and dust-throwing. The hoodlums, one of whom is himself the sinner, have been blabbing, says he. [Page 85] His accuser points to the beaten down _hina-hina_ grass as evidence against him. At this the brazen-faced culprit parries the stroke with a humorous euphemistic description, in which he plays on the word _hina_, to fall. Such verbal tilting in ancient Hawaii was practically a defense against a charge of moral obliquity as decisive and legitimate as was an appeal to arms in the times of chivalry. He euphemistically speaks of the beaten herbage as the result of his having tripped and fallen, at which, says he, the woman smiled, that is she fell in with his proposals. He gives himself away; but that doesn’t matter.

It requires some study to make out who is the speaker in the tit-for-tat of the dialogue.

_Mele_

(Ai-ha’a)

He lua i ka Hikina, Ua ena e Pele; Ke haoloolo e la ke ao, Ke lele la i-luna, i-lalo; 5 Kawewe ka o-ó i-lalo i akea; A ninau o Wakea, Owai nei akua e eli nei? Owan no, o Pele, Nona i eli aku ka lua i Niihau a a.

10 He lua i Niihau, ua ena e Pele. He haoloolo e la ke ao, Ke lele la i-luna, i-lalo; Kawewe ka o-ó i-lalo i akea; A ninau o Wakea, 15 Owai nei akua e eli nei? Owau no, o Pele, Nana i eli aku ka lua i Kauai a a.

He lua i Kauai ua ena e Pele. Ke haoloolo e la ke ao, 20 Ke lele la i-luna, i-lalo; Kawewe ka o-ó i-lalo i akea; Ninau o Wakea, Owai nei akua e eli nei? Owau no, o Pele, 25 Nana i eli ka lua i Oahu a a.

He lua i Oahu, ua ena e Pele. Ke haoloolo e la ke ao, Ke lele la i-luna, i-lalo; Kawewe ka o-ó i-lalo i akea; 30 A ninau o Wakea, Owai nei akua e eli nei? Owau no, o Pele, Nana i eli ka lua i Molokai a a.

[Page 86] He lua i Molokai, ua ena e Pele. 35 Ke haoloolo e la ke ao, Ke lele la i-luna, i-lalo; Kawewe ka o-ó i-lalo, i akea. Ninau o Wakea, Owai nei akua e eli nei? 40 Owau no, o Pele, Nana i eli aku ka lua i Lanai a a.

He lua i Lanai, ua ena e Pele. Ke haoloolo e la ke ao, Ke lele la i-luna, i-lalo; 45 Kawewe ka o-ó i-lalo i akea. Ninau o Wakea, Owai nei akua e eli nei? Owau no, o Pele, Nana i eli aku ka lua i Maui a a.

50 He lua i Maui, ua ena e Pele. Ke haoloolo e la ke ao, Ke lele la i-luna, i-lalo; Kawewe ka o-ó i-lalo, i akea. Ninau o Wakea, 55 Owai, nei akua e eli nei? Owau no, o Pele, Nana i eli aku ka lua i Hu’ehu’e a a.

He lua i Hu’ehu’e, ua ena e Pele. Ke haoloolo e la ke ao, 60 Ke lele la i-luna, i-lalo; Kawewe ka o-ó i-lalo, i akea. Eli-eli, kau mai!

[Translation.]

_Song_

(In turgid style)

A pit lies (far) to the East, Pit het by the Fire-queen Pele. Heaven’s dawn is lifted askew, One edge tilts up, one down, in the sky; 5 The thud of the pick is heard in the ground. The question is asked by Wakea, What god’s this a-digging? It is I, it is Pele, Who dug Mihau deep down till it burned, 10 Dug fire-pit red-heated by Pele.

Night’s curtains are drawn to one side, One lifts, one hangs in the tide. Crunch of spade resounds in the earth. Wakea ’gain urges the query, 15 What god plies the spade in the ground? Quoth Pele, ’tis I: [Page 87] I mined to the fire neath Kauai, On Kauai I dug deep a pit, A fire-well flame-fed by Pele.

20 The heavens are lifted aslant, One border moves up and one down; There’s a stroke of o-ó ’neath the ground. Wakea, in earnest, would know, What demon’s a-grubbing below? 25 I am the worker, says Pele: Oahu I pierced to the quick, A crater white-heated by Pele.

Now morn lights one edge of the sky; The light streams up, the shadows fall down; 30 There’s a clatter of tools deep down. Wakea, in passion, demands, What god this who digs ’neath the ground? It is dame Pele who answers; Hers the toil to dig down to fire, 35 To dig Molokai and reach fire.

Now morning peeps from the sky With one eye open, one shut. Hark, ring of the drill ’neath the plain! Wakea asks you to explain, 40 What imp is a-drilling below? It is I, mutters Pele: I drilled till flame shot forth on Lanai, A pit candescent by Pele.

The morning looks forth aslant; 45 Heaven’s curtains roll up and roll down; There’s a ring of o-ó ’neath the sod. Who, asks Wakea, the god, Who is this devil a-digging? ’Tis I, ’tis Pele, I who 50 Dug on Maui the pit to the fire: Ah, the crater of Maui, Red-glowing with Pele’s own fire!

Heaven’s painted one side by the dawn, Her curtains half open, half drawn; 55 A rumbling is heard far below. Wakea insists he will know The name of the god that tremors the land. ’Tis I, grumbles Pele, I have scooped out the pit Hu’e-hu’e, 60 A pit that reaches to fire, A fire fresh kindled by Pele.

Now day climbs up to the East; Morn folds the curtains of night; The spade of sapper resounds ’neath the plain: 65 The goddess is at it again! [Page 88] This mele comes to us stamped with the hall-mark of antiquity. It is a poem of mythology, but with what story it connects itself, the author knows not.

The translation here given makes no profession of absolute, verbal literalness. One can not transfer a metaphor bodily, head and horns, from one speech to another. The European had to invent a new name for the boomerang or accept the name by which the Australian called it. The Frenchman, struggling with the English language, told a lady he was _gangrened_, he meant he was _mortified_. The cry for literalism is the cry for an impossibility; to put the chicken back into its shell, to return to the bows and arrows of the stone age.

To make the application to the mele in question: the word _ha-olo-olo_, for example, which is translated in several different ways in the poem, is of such generic and comprehensive meaning that one word fails to express its meaning. It is, by the way, not a word to be found in any dictionary. The author had to grope his way to its meaning by following the trail of some Hawaiian pathfinder who, after beating about the bush, finally had to acknowledge that the path had become so much overgrown since he last went that way that he could not find it.

The Arabs have a hundred or more words meaning sword—different kinds of swords. To them our word sword is very unspecific. Talk to an Arab of a sword—you may exhaust the list of special forms that our poor vocabulary compasses, straight sword, broadsword, saber, scimitar, yataghan, rapier, and what not, and yet not hit the mark of his definition.

_Mele_

Haku’i ka uahi o ka lua, pa i ka lani; Ha’aha’a Hawaii, moku o Keawe i hanau ia. Kiekie ke one o Maláma ia Lohiau, I a’e ’a mai e ke alii o Kahiki, 5 Nana i hele kai uli, kai ele, Kai popolo-hu’a a Kane, Ka wa i po’i ai ke Kai-a-ka-hina-lii, Kai nu’u, kai lewa.

Hoopua o Kane i ka la’i; 10 Pa uli-hiwa mai la ka uka o ke ahi a Laka, Oia wahine kihene lehua o Hopoe, Pu’e aku-o na hala, Ka hala o Panaewa, O Panaewa nui, moku lehua; 15 Ohia kupu ha-o’e-o’e; Lehua ula, i wili ia e ke ahi. A po, e!

Po Puna, po Hilo! Po i ka uahi o ku’u aina. 20 Ola ia kini! Ke a mai la ke ahi! [Page 89]

[Translation.]

_Song_

A burst of smoke from the pit lifts to the skies; Hawaii’s beneath, birth-land of Keawe; Malama’s beach looms before Lohian, Where landed the chief from Kahiki, 5 From a voyage on the blue sea, the dark sea, The foam-mottled sea of Kane, What time curled waves of the king-whelming flood. The sea up-swells, invading the land—

Lo Kane, outstretched at his ease! 10 Smoke and flame o’ershadow the uplands, Conflagration by Laka, the woman Hopoe wreathed with flowers of lehua, Stringing the pandanus fruit. Screw-palms that clash in Pan’-ewa— 15 Pan’-ewa, whose groves of lehua Are nourished by lava shag, Lehua that bourgeons with flame.

Night, it is night O’er Puna and Hilo! 20 Night from the smoke of my land! For the people salvation! But the land is on fire!

The Hawaiian who furnished the meles which, in their translated forms, are designated as canto I, canto II, and so on, spoke of them as _pále_, and, following his nomenclature, the term has been retained, though more intimate acquaintance with the meles and with the term has shown that the nearest English synonym to correspond with pale would be the word division. Still, perhaps with a mistaken tenderness for the word, the author has retained the caption Canto, as a sort of nodding recognition of the old Hawaiian’s term—division of a poem. No idea is entertained that the five _pále_ above given were composed by the same bard, or that they represent productions from the same individual standpoint. They do, however, breathe a spirit much in common; so that when the old Hawaiian insisted that they are so far related to one another as to form a natural series for recitation in the hula, being species of the same genus, as it were, he was not far from the truth. The man’s idea seemed to be that they were so closely related that, like beads of harmonious colors and shapes, they might be strung on the same thread without producing a dissonance.

Of these five poems, or _pále_ (páh-lay), numbers I, II, and IV were uttered in a natural tone of voice, termed _kawele_, otherwise termed _ko’i-honua_. The purpose of this style of recitation was to adapt the tone to the necessities of the [Page 90] aged when their ears no longer heard distinctly. It would require an audiphone to illustrate perfectly the difference between this method of pronunciation and the _ai-ha’a_, which was employed in the recitation of cantos III and V. The _ai-ha’a_ was given in a strained and guttural tone.

The poetical reciter and cantillator, whether in the halau or in the king’s court, was wont to heighten the oratorical effect of his recitation by certain crude devices, the most marked of which was that of choking the voice down, as it were, into the throat, and there letting it strain and growl like a hungry lion. This was the ai-ha’a, whose organic function was the expression of the underground passions of the soul.

[Illustration: BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 33 PLATE VIII MAILE PAKAHA NIHI-AU-MOE MARIONETTES]

[Page 91]

XI.—THE HULA KI’I

I was not a little surprised when I learned that the ancient hula repertory of the Hawaiians included a performance with marionettes, _ki’i_, dressed up to represent human beings. But before accepting the hula _ki’i_ as a product indigenous to Hawaii, I asked myself: Might not this be a performance in imitation of the Punch-and-Judy show familiar to Europe and America?

After careful study of the question no evidence was found, other than what might be inferred from general resemblance, for the theory of adoption from a European or American origin. On the contrary, the words used as an accompaniment to the play agree with report and tradition, and bear convincing evidence in form, and matter to a Hawaiian antiquity. That is not to say, however, that in the use of marionettes the Hawaiians did not hark back to their ancestral homes in the southern sea or to a remoter past in Asia.

The six marionettes, _ki’i_ (pls. VIII and IX), in the writer’s possession were obtained from a distinguished kumu-hula, who received them by inheritance, as it were, from his brother. “He gave them to me,” said he, “with these words,’ Take care of these things, and when the time comes, after my death, that the king wants you to perform before him, be ready to fulfill his desire.’”

It was in the reign of Kamehameha III that they came into the hands of the elder brother, who was then and continued to be the royal hula-master until his death. These ki’i have therefore figured in performances that have been graced by the presence of King Kauikeaouli (Kamehameha III) and his queen, Kalama, and by his successors since then down to the times of Kalakaua. At the so-called “jubilee,” the anniversary of Kalakaua’s fiftieth birthday, these marionettes were very much in evidence.

The make-up and style of these ki’i are so similar that a description of one will serve for all six. This marionette represents the figure of a man, and was named _Maka-kú_ (pl. IX). The head is carved out of some soft wood—either kukui or wiliwili—which is covered, as to the hairy scalp, with a dark woven fabric much like broadcloth. It is encircled at the level of the forehead with a broad band of gilt braid, as if to ape the style of a soldier. The median line from the forehead over the vertex to the back-head is crested with the _mahiole_ ridge. This, taken in connection with the [Page 92] encircling gilt band, gives to the head a warlike appearance, somewhat as if it were armed with the classical helmet, the Hawaiian name for which is _mahi-ole_. The crest of the ridge and its points of junction with the forehead and back-head are decorated with fillets of wool dyed of a reddish color, in apparent imitation of the _mamo_ or _o-ó_, the birds whose feathers were used in decorating helmets, cloaks, and other regalia. The features are carved with some attempt at fidelity. The eyes are set with mother-of-pearl.

The figure is of about one-third life size, and was originally draped, the author was told, in a loose robe, _holokú_ of tapa cloth of the sort known as _mahuna_, which is quite thin. This piece of tapa is perforated at short intervals with small holes, _kiko’i_. It is also stained with the juice from the bark of the root of the kukui tree, which imparts a color like that of copper, and makes the Hawaiians class it as _pa’ikukui_. A portion of its former, its original, apparel has been secured.

The image is now robed in a holokú of yellow cotton, beneath which is an underskirt of striped silk in green and white. The arms are loosely jointed to the body.

The performer in the hula, who stood behind a screen, by insinuating his hands under the clothing of the marionette, could impart to it such movements as were called for by the action of the play, while at the same time he repeated the words of his part, words supposed to be uttered by the marionette.

The hula ki’i was, perhaps, the nearest approximation made by the Hawaiians to a genuine dramatic performance. Its usual instrument of musical accompaniment was the ipu, previously described. This drumlike object was handled by that division of the performers called the hoopa’a, who sat in full view of the audience manipulating the ipu in a quiet, sentimental manner, similar to that employed in the hula kuolo.

As a sample of the stories illustrated in a performance of the hula ki’i the following may be adduced, the dramatis personae of which are four:

1. _Maka-kú_: a famous warrior, a rude, strong-handed braggart, as boastful as Ajax.

2. _Puapua-kea_, a small man, but brave and active.

3. _Maile-lau-lii_ (Small-leafed-maile), a young woman, who becomes the wife of Maka-ku.

4. _Maile-Pakaha_, the younger sister of Maile-lau-lii, who becomes the wife of Puapua-kea.

Maka-kú, a rude and boastful son of Mars, at heart a bully, if not a coward, is represented as ever aching for a fight, in which his domineering spirit and rough-and-tumble ways for a time gave him the advantage over abler, but more modest, adversaries.

[Illustration: BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY, BULLETIN 38 PLATE IX MARIONETTE, MAKA-KÚ]

[Page 93]

Puapuakea, a man of genuine courage, hearing of the boastful achievements of Maka-kú, seeks him out and challenges him.

At the first contest they fought with javelins, _ihe_, each one taking his turn according to lot in casting his javelins to the full tale of the prescribed number; after which the other contestant did the same. Neither was victorious.

Next they fought with slings, each one having the right to sling forty stones at the other. In this conflict also neither one of them got the better of the other. The next trial was with stone-throwing. The result was still the same.

Now it was for them to try the classical Hawaiian game of _lua_. This was a strenuous form of contest that has many features in common with the panathlion of the ancient Hellenes, some points in common with boxing, and still more, perhaps, partakes of the character of the grand art of combat, wrestling. Since becoming acquainted with the fine Japanese art of _jiu-jitsu_, the author recognizes certain methods that were shared by them both. But to all of these it added the wild privileges of choking, bone-breaking, dislocating, eye-gouging, and the infliction of tortures and grips unmentionable and disreputable. At first the conflict was in suspense, victory favoring neither party; but as the contest went on Puapuakea showed a slight superiority, and at the finish he had bettered Maka-kú by three points, or _ai_[205], as the Hawaiians uniquely term it.

[Footnote 205: _Ai_, literally a food, a course.]

The sisters, Maile-lau-lii and Maile-pakaha, who had been interested spectators of the contest, conceived a passionate liking for the two warriors and laid their plans in concert to capture them for themselves. Fortunately their preferences were not in conflict. Maile-lau-lii set her affections on Maka-ku, while the younger sister devoted herself to Pua-pua-kea.

The two men had previously allowed their fancies to range abroad at pleasure; but from this time they centered their hearts on these two Mailes and settled down to regular married life.

Interest in the actual performance of the hula ki’i was stimulated by a resort to byplay and buffoonery. One of the marionettes, for instance, points to some one in the audience; whereupon one of the _hoopaa_ asks, “What do you want?” The marionette persists in its pointing. At length the interlocutor, as if divining the marionette’s wish, says: “Ah, you want So-and-so.” At this the marionette nods assent, and the hoopaa asks again, “Do you wish him to come to you?” The marionette expresses its delight and approval by nods and gestures, to the immense satisfaction of the audience, who join in derisive laughter at the expense of the person held up to ridicule.

Besides the marionettes already named among the characters found in the different hula-plays of the hula ki’i, the [Page 94] author has heard mention of the following marionettes: _Ku, Kini-ki’i, Hoo-lehelehe-ki’i, Ki’i-ki’i_, and _Nihi-aumoe_.

Nihi-aumoe was a man without the incumbrance of a wife, an expert in the arts of intrigue and seduction. Nihi-aumoe is a word of very suggestive meaning, to walk softly at midnight. In Judge Andrews’s dictionary are found the following pertinent Hawaiian verses apropos of the word _nihi_:

E hoopono ka hele i ka uka o Puna; E _nihi_ ka hele, mai hoolawehala, Mai noho a ako i ka pua, o hewa, O inaina ke Akua, paa ke alanui, Aole ou ala e hiki aku ai.

[Translation.]

Look to your ways in upland Puna; Walk softly, commit no offense; Dally not, nor pluck the flower sin; Lest God in anger bar the road, And you find no way of escape.

The marionette Ki’i-ki’i was a strenuous little fellow, an _ilamuku_, a marshal, or constable of the king. It was his duty to carry out with unrelenting rigor the commands of the alii, whether they bade him take possession of a taro patch, set fire to a house, or to steal upon a man at dead of night and dash out his brains while he slept.

Referring to the illustrations (pl. VIII), a judge of human nature can almost read the character of the libertine Nihi-aumoe written in his features—the flattened vertex, indicative of lacking reverence and fear, the ruffian strength of the broad face; and if one could observe the reverse of the picture he would note the flattened back-head, a feature that marks a large number of Hawaiian crania.

The songs that were cantillated to the hula ki’i express in some degree the peculiar libertinism of this hula, which differed from all others by many removes. They may be characterized as gossipy, sarcastic, ironical, scandal-mongering, dealing in satire, abuse, hitting right and left at social and personal vices—a cheese of rank flavor that is not to be partaken of too freely. It might be compared to the vaudeville in opera or to the genre picture in art.

_Mele_

E Wewehi, ke, ke! Wewehi oiwi, ke, ke! Punana[206] i ka luna, ke, ke! Hoonoho kai-oa[207] ke, ke! [Page 95] 5 Oluna ka wa’a[208], ke, ke! O kela wa’a, ke, ke! O keia wa’a, ke, ke! Ninau o Mawi[209], ke, ke! Nawai ka luau’i?[209] ke, ke! 10 Na Wewehi-loa[210], ke, ke! 10 Ua make Wewehi, ke, ke! Ua ku i ka ihe, ke, ke! Ma ka puka kahiko[211] ke, ke! Ka puka a Mawi, ke, ke!

15 Ka lepe, ka lepe, la! 15 Ka lepe, ua hina a uwe! Ninau ka lepe, la! Mana-mana lii-lii, Mana-mana heheiao, 20 Ke kumu o ka lepe? 20 Ka lepe hiolo, e?

[Footnote 206: _Punana_. Literally a nest; here a raised couch on the _pola_, which was a sheltered platform in the waist of a double canoe, corresponding to our cabin, for the use of chiefs and other people of distinction.]

[Footnote 207: _Kai-oa_. The paddle-men; here a euphemism.]

[Footnote 208: _Wa’a_. A euphemism for the human body.]

[Footnote 209: _Mawi_. The hero of Polynesian mythology, whose name is usually spelled _Maui_, like the name of the island. Departure from the usual orthography is made in order to secure phonetic accuracy. The name of the hero is pronounced _Máh-wee_, not _Mów-ee_, as is the island. Sir George Gray, of New Zealand, following the usual orthography, has given a very full and interesting account of him in his Polynesian mythology.]

[Footnote 210: _Wewehi-loa_. Another name for _Wahie-loa_, who is said to have been the grandfather of Wewehi. The word _luau’i_ in the previous verse, meaning real father, is an archaic form. Another form is _kua-u’i_.]

[Footnote 211: _Puka kahiko_. A strange story from Hawaiian mythology relates that originally the human anatomy was sadly deficient in that the terminal gate of the _primæ viæ_ was closed. Mawi applied his common-sense surgery to the repair of the defect and relieved the situation. _Ua olelo ia i kinohi ua hana ia kanaka me ka hemahema no ka nele i ka hou puka ole ia ka okole, a na Mawi i hoopau i keia pilikia mamuli o kana hana akamai. Ua kapa ia keia puka ka puka kahiko._]

[Translation.]

_Song_

O Wewehi, la, la! Wewehi, peerless form, la, la! Encouched on the pola, la, la! Bossing the paddlers, la, la! 5 Men of the canoe, la, la! 5 Of that canoe, la, la!

Of this canoe, la, la! Mawi inquires, la, la! Who was her grand-sire? la, la! 10 ’Twas Wewehi-loa, la, la! 10 Wewehi is dead, la, la! Wounded with spear, la, la! The same old wound, la, la! Wound made by Mawi, la, la! [Page 96] 15 The flag, lo the flag! 15 The flag weeps at half-mast! The flag, indeed, asks— Many, many the flags, A scandal for number. 20 Why are they overturned? 20 Why their banners cast down?

The author has met with several variants to this mele, which do not greatly change its character. In one of these variants the following changes are to be noted:

Line 4. Pikaka[212] e ka luna, ke, ke! Line 5. Ka luna o ka hale, ke, ke! Line 8. Ka puka o ka hale, a ke, ke! Line 9. E noho i anei, a ke, ke!

To attempt a translation of these lines which are unadulterated slang:

Line 4. The roof is a-dry, la, la! Line 5. The roof of the house, la, la! Line 8. The door of the house, la, la! Line 9. Turn in this way, la, la!

[Footnote 212: _Pikaka_ (full form _pikakao_). Dried up, juiceless.]

The one who supplied the above lines expressed inability to understand their meaning, averring that they are “classical Hawaiian,” meaning, doubtless, that they are archaic slang. As to the ninth line, the practice of “sitting in the door” seems to have been the fashion with such folk as far back as the time of Solomon.

Let us picture this princess of Maui, this granddaughter of Wahieloa, Wewehi, as a Helen, with all of Helen’s frailty, a flirt-errant, luxurious in life, quickly deserting one lover for the arms of another; yet withal of such humanity and kindness of fascination that, at her death, or absence, all things mourned her—not as Lycidas was mourned:

“With cowslips wan that hang the pensive head, ............................................. And daffodillies fill their cups with tears,”

but in some rude pagan fashion; all of which is wrought out and symbolized in the mele with such imagery as is native to the mind of the savage.

The attentive reader will not need be told that, as in many another piece out of Hawaii’s old-time legends, the path through this song is beset with euphuistic stumbling blocks. The purpose of language, says Talleyrand, is to conceal thought. The veil in this case is quite gauzy.

The language of the following song for the marionette dance, hula ki’i, as in the one previously given, is mostly of that [Page 97] kind which the Hawaiians term _olelo kapékepéke_, or _olelo huná_, shifty talk, or secret talk. We might call it slang, though, it is not slang in the exact sense in which we use that word, applying it to the improvised counters of thought that gain currency in our daily speech until they find admission to the forum, the platform, and the dictionary. It is rather a cipher-speech, a method of concealing one’s meaning from all but the initiated, of which the Hawaiian, whether alii or commoner, was very fond. The people of the hula were famous for this sort of accomplishment and prided themselves not a little in it as an effectual means of giving appropriate flavor and gusto to their performances.

_Mele_

Ele-ele kau-kau;[213] Ka hala-le,[214] e kau-kau, Ka e-ele ihi, Ele ihi, ele a, 5 Ka e-ele ku-pou;[215] Ku-pou. Ka hala, e![216]

[Translation.]

_Song_

Point to a dark one, Point to a dainty piece, A delicate morsel she! Very choice, very hot! 5 She that stoops over— Aye stoops! Lo, the hala fruit!

The translation has to be based largely on conjecture. The author of this bit of fun-making, which is couched in old-time slang, died without making known the key to his cipher, and no one whom the present writer has met with is able to unravel its full meaning.

[Footnote 213: _Kau-kau_. Conjectural meaning to point out some one in the audience, as the marionettes often did. People were thus sometimes inveigled in behind the curtain.]

[Footnote 214: _Hala-le_. Said to mean a sop, with which one took up the juice or gravy of food; a choice morsel.]

[Footnote 215: _Ku-pou_. To stoop over, from devotion to one’s own pursuits, from modesty, or from shame.]

[Footnote 216: The meaning of this line has been matter for much conjecture. The author has finally adopted the suggestion embodied in the translation here given, which is a somewhat gross reference to the woman’s physical charms.]

The following mele for the hula ki’i, in language colored by the same motive, was furnished by an accomplished practitioner who had traveled far and wide in the practice of her art, having been one of a company of hula dancers that attended the Columbian exposition in Chicago. It was her good [Page 98] fortune also to reach the antipodes in her travels, and it was at Berlin, she says, that she witnessed for the first time the European counterpart of the hula ki’i, the “Punch and Judy” show:

_Mele no ka Hula Ki’i_

E le’e kau-kau, kala le’e; E le’e kau-kau. E le’e kau-kau, kala le’e. E lepe kau-kau. 5 E o-ku ana i kai; E u-au ai aku; E u-au ai aku; E u-au ai aku! E-he-he, e!

[Translation.]

_Song for the Hula Ki’i_

Now for the dance, dance in accord; Prepare for the dance. Now for the dance, dance in time. Up, now, with the flag! 5 Step out to the right Step out to the left! Ha, ha, ha!

This translation is the result of much research, yet its absolute accuracy can not be vouched for. The most learned authorities (_kaka-olelo_) in old Hawaiian lore that have been found by the writer express themselves as greatly puzzled at the exact meaning of the mele just given. Some scholars, no doubt, would dub these nonsense-lines. The author can not consent to any such view. The old Hawaiians were too much in earnest to permit themselves to juggle with words in such fashion. They were fond of mystery and concealment, appreciated a joke, given to slang, but to string a lot of words together without meaning, after the fashion of a college student who delights to relieve his mind by shouting “Upidee, upida,” was not their way. “The people of the hula,” said one man, “had ways of fun-making peculiar to themselves.”

When the hula-dancer who communicated to the author the above song—a very accomplished and intelligent woman—was asked for information that would render possible its proper translation, she replied that her part was only that of a mouthpiece to repeat the words and to make appropriate gestures, _he pono hula wale no_, mere parrot-work. The language, she said, was such “classic” Hawaiian as to be beyond her understanding. [Page 99] Here, again, is another song in argot, a coin of the same mintage as those just given:

_Mele_

E kau-kau i hale manu, e! Ike oe i ka lola huluhulu, e? I ka huluhulu a we’uwe’u, e? I ka punohu,[217] e, a ka la e kau nei? 5 Walea ka manu i ka wai, e! I ka wai lohi o ke kini, e!

[Translation.]

_Song_

Let’s worship now the bird-cage. Seest thou the furzy woodland, The shag of herb and forest, The low earth-tinting rainbow, 5 Child of the Sun that swings above? O, happy bird, to drink from the pool, A bliss free to the million!

[Footnote 217: _Punohu_. A compact mass of clouds, generally lying low in the heavens; a cloud-omen; also a rainbow that lies close to the earth, such as is formed when the sun is high in the heavens.]

This is the language of symbolism. When Venus went about to ensnare Adonis, among her other wiles she warbled to him of mountains, dales, and pleasant fountains.

The mele now presented is of an entirely different character from those that have just preceded. It is said to have been the joint composition of the high chief Keiki-o-ewa of Kauai, at one time the kahu of Prince Moses, and of Kapihe, a distinguished poet—haku-mele—and prophet. (To Kapihe is ascribed the prophetic and oracular utterance, _E iho ana o luna, e pii ana o lalo; e ku ana ka paia; e moe ana kaula; e kau ana kau-huhu—o lani iluna, o honua ilalo_—“The high shall be brought low, the lowly uplifted; the defenses shall stand; the prophet shall lie low; the mountain walls shall abide—heaven above, earth beneath.”)

This next poem may be regarded as an epithalamium, the celebration of the mystery and bliss of the wedding night, the _hoáo ana_ of a high chief and his high-born _kapu_ sister. The murmur of the breeze, the fury of the winds, the heat of the sun, the sacrificial ovens, all are symbols that set forth the emotions, experiences, and mysteries of the night: [Page 100]

_Mele_

(Ko’ihonua)

O Wanahili[218] ka po loa ia Manu’a,[219] O ka pu kau kama[220] i Hawaii akea; O ka pu leina[221] kea a Kiha— O Kiha nui a Pii-lani—[222] 5 O Kauhi kalana-honu’-a-Kama;[223] O ka maka iolena[224] ke koohaulani i-ó! O kela kanaka hoali mauna,[225] O Ka Lani ku’i hono i ka moku.[226] I waihona kapuahi kanaka ehá,[227] 10 Ai’ i Kauai, i Oahu, i Maui, I Hawaii kahiko o Keawe enaena,[228] Ke a-á, mai la me ke o-koko, Ke lapa-lapa la i ka makani, Makani kua, he Naulu.[229] 10 Kua ka Wainoa i ka Mikioi, [Page 101] Pu-á ia lalo o Hala-li’i, [230] Me he alii, alii, la no ka hele i Kekaha, Ka hookiekie i ka li’u-la,[231] Ka hele i ke alia-lia la, alia! 20 Alia-lia la’a-laau Kekaha. Ke kaha o Kala-ihi, Wai-o-lono. Ke olo la ke pihe a ka La, e! Ke nu la paha i Honua-ula.

[Footnote 218: _Wanahili_. A princess of the mythological period belonging to Puna, Hawaii.]

[Footnote 219: _Manu’a_. A king of Hilo, the son of Kane-hili, famous for his skill in spear-throwing, _maika_-rolling, and all athletic exercises. He was united in marriage, _ho-ao_, to the lovely princess Wanahili. Tradition deals with Manua as a very lovable character.]

[Footnote 220: _Pu kau kama_. The conch (pu) is figured as the herald of fame. _Kau_ is used in the sense of to set on high, in contrast with such a word as _waiho_, to set down. _Kama_ is the word of dignity for children.]

[Footnote 221: _Pu leina_. It is asserted on good authority that the triton (_pu_), when approached in its ocean habitat, will often make sudden and extraordinary leaps in an effort to escape. There is special reference here to the famous conch known in Hawaiian story as _Kiha-pu_. It was credited with supernatural powers as a _kupua_. During the reign of Umi, son of Liloa, it was stolen from the _heiau_ in Waipio valley and came into the hands of god Kane. In his wild awa-drinking revels the god terrified Umi and his people by sounding nightly blasts with the conch. The shell was finally restored to King Umi by the superhuman aid of the famous dog Puapua-lena-lena.]

[Footnote 222: _Kiha-nui a Piilani_. Son of Piilani, a king of Maui. He is credited with the formidable engineering work of making a paved road over the mountain palis of Koolau, Maui.]

[Footnote 223: _Kauhi kalana-honu’-a-Kama_. This Kauhi, as his long title indicates, was the son of the famous king, Kama-lala-walu, and succeeded his father in the kingship over Maui and, probably, Lanai. Kama-lala-walu had a long and prosperous reign, which ended, however, in disaster. Acting on the erroneous reports of his son Kauhi, whom he had sent to spy out the land, he invaded the kingdom of Lono-i-ka-makahiki on Hawaii, was wounded and defeated in battle, taken prisoner, and offered up as a sacrifice on the altar of Lono’s god, preferring that death, it is said, to the ignominy of release.]

[Footnote 224: _I-olena_. Roving, shifty, lustful.]

[Footnote 225: _Kanaka hoali mauna_. Man who moved mountains; an epithet of compliment applied perhaps to Kiha, above mentioned, or to the king mentioned in the next verse, Kekaulike.]

[Footnote 226: _Ku’i hono i ka moku_. Who bound together into one (state) the islands Maui, Molokai, Lanai, and Kahoolawe. This was, it is said, Kekaulike, the fifth king of Maui after Kama-lala-walu. At his death he was succeeded by Kamehameha-nui—to be distinguished from the Kamehameha of Hawaii—and he in turn by the famous warrior-king Kahekili, who routed the invading army of Kalaniopuu, king of Hawaii, on the sand plains of Wailuku.]

[Footnote 227: _I waihona kapuahi kanaka ehá_. This verse presents grammatical difficulties. The word _I_ implies the imperative, a form of request or demand, though that is probably not the intent. It seems to be a means, authorized by poetical license, of ascribing honor and tabu-glory to the name of the person eulogized, who, the context leads the author to think, was Kekaulike. The island names other than that of Maui seem to have been thrown in for poetical effect, as that king, in the opinion of the author, had no power over Kauai, Oahu, or Hawaii. The purpose may have been to assert that his glory reached to those islands.]

[Footnote 228: _Keawe enaena_. Keawe, whose tabu was hot as a burning oven. Presumably Keawe, the son of Umi, is the one meant.]

[Footnote 229: _Naulu_. The sea-breeze at Waimea, Kauai.]

[Footnote 230: _Hala-lii_. A sandy plain on Niihau, where grows a variety of sugar-cane that lies largely covered by the loose soil, _ke ko eli o Hala-lii_.]

[Footnote 231: _Li’u-la_. The mirage, a common phenomenon on Niihau, and especially at Mana, on Kauai.]

[Translation.]

_Song_

(Distinct utterance)

Wanahili bides the whole night with Manu’a, By trumpet hailed through broad Hawaii, By the white vaulting conch of Kiha— Great Kiha, offspring of Pii-lani, 5 Father of eight-branched Kama-lala-walu The far-roaming eye now sparkles with joy, Whose energy erstwhile shook mountains, The king who firm-bound the isles in one state, His glory, symboled by four human altars, 10 Reaches Kauai, Oahu, Maui, Hawaii the eld of Keawe, Whose tabu, burning with blood-red blaze, Shoots flame-tongues that leap with the wind, The breeze from the mountain, the Naulu. 15 Waihoa humps its back, while cold Mikioi Blows fierce and swift across Hala-li’i. It vaunts like a king at Kekaha, Flaunting itself in the sun’s heat, And lifts itself up in mirage, 20 Ghost-forms of woods and trees in Kekaha— Sweeping o’er waste Kala-ihi, Water-of-Lono; While the sun shoots forth its fierce rays— Its heat, perchance, reaches to Honua-ula.

The mele next given takes its local color from Kauai and brings vividly to mind the experiences of one who has climbed the mountain walls _pali_, that buffet the winds of its northern coast.

_Mele_

Kalalau, pali eku i ka makani; Pu ka Lawa-kua,[232] hoi mau i Kolo-kini; Nu a anahulu ka pa ana i-uka— Anahulu me na po keu elua.

[Page 102] 5 Elua Hono-pu o ia kua kanaka; Elua Ko’a-mano[233] me Wai-aloha, Ka pali waha iho, waha iho[234] me ke kua; Ke keiki puu iloko o ka pali nui. E hii an’[235] e Makua i Kalalau.

[Footnote 232: _Lawa-kua._ A wind in Kalalau that blows for a time from the mountains and then, it is said, veers to the north, so that it comes from the direction of a secondary valley, Kolo-kini, a branch of Kalalau. The bard describes it as continuing to blow for twelve nights before It shifts, an instance, probably, of poetic license.]

[Footnote 233: _Ko’a-mano_. A part of the ocean into which the stream Wai-aloha falls.]

[Footnote 234: _Waha iho_. With mouth that yawns downward, referring, doubtless, to the overarching of the _pali_, precipice. The same figure is applied to the back (_kua_) of the traveler who climbs it.]

[Footnote 235: Elision of the final _a_ in _ana_.]

[Translation.]

_Song_

The mountain walls of Kalalau Buffet the blasts of Lawa-kau, That surge a decade of nights and twain; Then, wearied, it veers to the north.

5 Two giant backs stand the cliffs Hono-pu; The falls Wai-aloha mate with the sea: An overhung pali—the climber’s back swings in Its mouth—to face it makes one a child— Makua, whose arms embrace Kalalau.

The mind of the ancient bard was so narrowly centered on the small plot his imagination cultivated that he disregarded the outside world, forgetting that it could not gaze upon the scenes which filled his eyes.

The valley of Kalalau from its deep recess in the northwestern coast of Kauai looks out upon the heaving waters of the Pacific. The mountain walls of the valley are abrupt, often overhanging. Viewed from the ocean, the cliffs are piled one upon another like the buttresses of a Gothic cathedral. The ocean is often stormy, and during several months in the year forbids intercourse with other parts of the island, save as the hardy traveler makes his way along precipitous mountain trails.

The hula _ala’a-papa_, hula _ipu_, hula _pa-ipu_ (or _kuolo_), the hula _hoo-naná_, and the hula _ki’i_ were all performed to the accompaniment of the ipu or calabash, and, being the only ones that were so accompanied, if the author is correctly informed, they may be classed together under one head as the calabash hulas.

[Illustration: BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 38 PLATE X PAHU HULA, HULA DRUM]

[Page 103]

XII.—THE HULA PAHU

The hula _pahu_ was so named from the _pahu_,[236] or drum, that was its chief instrument of musical accompaniment (pl. x).

[Footnote 236: Full form, _pahu-hula_.]

It is not often that the story of an institution can be so closely fitted to the landmarks of history as in the case of this hula; and this comes about through our knowledge of the history of the pahu itself. Tradition, direct and reliable, informs us that the credit of introducing the big drum belongs to La’a. This chief flourished between five and six centuries ago, and from having spent most of his life in the lands to the south, which the ancient Hawaiians called Kahiki, was himself generally styled La’a-mai-Kahiki (La’a-from-Kahiki). The young man was of a volatile disposition, given to pleasure, and it is evident that the big drum he brought with him to Hawaii on one of his voyages from Kahiki was in his eyes by no means the least important piece of baggage that freighted his canoes. On nearing the land he waked the echoes with the stirring tones of his drum, which so astonished the people that they followed him from point to point along the coast and heaped favors upon him whenever he came ashore.

La’a was an enthusiastic patron of the hula and is said to have made a tour of the islands, in which he instructed the natives in new forms of this seductive pastime, one of which was the hula _ka-eke_.

There is reason to believe, it seems, that the original use of the pahu was in connection with the services of the temple, and that its adaptation to the halau was simply a transference from one to another religious use.

The hula pahu was preeminently a performance of formal and dignified character, not such as would be extemporized for the amusement of an irreverent company. Like all the formal hulas, it was tabu, by which the Hawaiians meant that it was a religious service, or so closely associated with the notion of worship as to make it an irreverence to trifle with it. For this reason as well as for its intrinsic dignity its performance was reserved for the most distinguished guests and the most notable occasions.

Both classes of actors took part in the performance of the hula pahu, the olapa contributing the mele as they stood and went through the motions of the dance, while the hoopaa maintained the kneeling position and operated the big drum with the left hand. While his left hand was thus engaged, the [Page 104] musician with a thong held in his right hand struck a tiny drum, the _pu-niu_, that was conveniently strapped to the thigh of the same side. As its name signifies, the pu-niu was made from coconut shell, being headed with fish-skin.

The harmonious and rhythmic timing of these two instruments called for strict attention on the part of the performer. The pahu, having a tone of lower pitch and greater volume than the other, was naturally sounded at longer intervals, while the pu-niu delivered its sharp crisp tones in closer order.

_Mele_

(Ko’i-honua)

O Hilo oe, Hilo, muliwai a ka ua i ka lani, I hana ia Hilo, ko-í ana e ka ua. E haló ko Hilo ma i-o, i-anei; Lenalena Hilo e, panopano i ka ua. 5 Ua lono Pili-keko o Hilo i ka wai; O-kakala ka hulu o Hilo i ke anu; Ua ku o ka paka a ka ua i ke one; Ua moe oni ole Hilo i-luna ke alo; Ua hana ka uluna lehu o Hana-kahi. 10 Haule ka onohi Hilo o ka ua i ke one; Loku kapa ka hi-hilo kai o Pai-kaka. Ha, e!

2

A Puna au, i Kuki’i au, i Ha’eha’e, Ike au i ke a kino-lau lehua. He laau malalo o ia pohaku. Hanohano Puna e, kehakeha i ka ua, 5 Káhiko mau no ia no-laila. He aina haaheo loa no Puna; I haaheo i ka hala me ka lehua; He maikai maluna, he a malalo; He kelekele ka papa o Mau-kele. 10 Kahuli Apua e, kele ana i Mau-kele.

[Translation.]

_Song_

(Bombastic style)

Thou art Hilo, Hilo, flood-gate of heaven. Hilo has power to wring out the rain. Let Hilo turn here and turn there; Hilo’s kept from employ, somber with rain; 5 Pili-keko roars with full stream; The feathers of Hilo bristle with cold, And her hail-stones smite on the sand. She lies without motion, with upturned face, The fire-places pillowed with ashes; 10 The bullets of rain are slapping the land, Pitiless rain turmoiling Pai-kaka. So, indeed. [Page 105] 2