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Title: Unwritten Literature of Hawaii: The Sacred Songs of the Hula
Author: Emerson, Nathaniel Bright
Language: English
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*** Start of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "Unwritten Literature of Hawaii: The Sacred Songs of the Hula" ***


[Page 1]

                         SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION
                       BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY

                              BULLETIN 38

                          UNWRITTEN LITERATURE
                               OF HAWAII
                       THE SACRED SONGS OF THE HULA

                      COLLECTED AND TRANSLATED, WITH
                     NOTES AND AN ACCOUNT OF THE HULA
                    BY NATHANIEL B. EMERSON, A.M., M.D.


                       GOVERNMENT PRINTING OFFICE


[Page 2][Blank]

[Page 3]


           Previous to the year 1906 the researches of the Bureau were
           restricted to the American Indians, but by act of Congress
           approved June 30 of that year the scope of its operations was
           extended to include the natives of the Hawaiian islands.
           Funds were not specifically provided, however, for
           prosecuting investigations among these people, and in the
           absence of an appropriation for this purpose it was
           considered inadvisable to restrict the systematic
           investigations among the Indian tribes in order that the new
           field might be entered. Fortunately the publication of
           valuable data pertaining to Hawaii is already provided for,
           and the present memoir by Doctor Emerson is the first of the
           Bureau’s Hawaiian series. It is expected that this Bulletin
           will be followed shortly by one comprising an extended list
           of works relating to Hawaii, compiled by Prof. H.M. Ballou
           and Dr. Cyrus Thomas.

           W.H. HOLMES,


[Page 4] [Blank]

[Page 5]



Introduction                                                       7

I. The hula                                                       11

II. The halau; the kuahu—their decoration and consecration       14

III. The gods of the hula                                         23

IV. Support and organization of the hula                          26

V. Ceremonies of graduation; debut of a hula dancer               31

VI. The password—the song of admission                           38

VII. Worship at the altar of the halau                            42

VIII. Costume of the hula dancer                                  49

IX. The hula alá’a-papa                                           57

X. The hula pa-ipu, or kuolo                                      73

XI. The hula ki’i                                                 91

XII. The hula pahu                                               103

XIII. The hula úliulí                                            107

XIV. The hula puili                                              113

XV. The hula ka-laau                                             116

XVI. The hula ili-ili                                            120

XVII. The hula kaekeeke                                          122

XVIII. An intermission                                           126

XIX. The hula niau-kani                                          132

XX. The hula ohe                                                 135

XXI. The music and musical instruments of the Hawaiians          138

XXII. Gesture                                                    176

XXIII. The hula pa-hua                                           183

XXIV. The hula Pele                                              186

XXV, The hula pa’i-umauma                                        202

XXVI. The hula ku’i Molokai                                      207

XXVII. The hula kielei                                           210

XXVIII. The hula mú’u-mú’u                                       212

XXIX. The hula kolani                                            216

XXX. The hula kolea                                              219

XXXI. The hula manó                                              221

XXXII. The hula ilio                                             223

XXXIII. The hula pua’a                                           228

XXXIV. The hula ohelo                                            233

XXXV. Thehula kilu                                               235

XXXVI. The hula hoonaná                                          244

XXXVII. The hula ulili                                           246

XXXVIII. The hula o-niu                                          248

XXXIX. The hula ku’i                                             250

XL. The oli                                                      254

XLI. The water of Kane                                           257

XLII. General review                                             260

Glossary                                                         265

Index                                                            271

[Page 6]


PLATE I. Female dancing in hula costume                 Frontispiece
     II. Íe-íe (Freycinetia arnotti) leaves and fruit    19
    III. Hála-pépe (Dracaena aurea)                      24
     IV. Maile (Alyxia myrtillifolia) wreath             32
      V. Ti (Dracaena terminalis)                        44
     VI. Ilima (Sida fallax), lei and flowers            56
    VII. Ipu hula, gourd drum                            73
   VIII. Marionettes (Maile-pakaha, Nihi-au-moe)         91
     IX. Marionette (Maka-kú)                            93
      X. Pahu hula, hula drum                           103
     XI. Úli-ulí, a gourd rattle                        107
    XII. Hawaiian tree-snails (Achatinella)             120
   XIII. Lehua (Metrosideros polymorpha) flowers and
           leaves                                       126
    XIV. Hawaiian trumpet, pu (Cassis madagascarensis)  131
     XV. Woman playing on the nose-flute (ohe-hano-ihu) 135
    XVI. Pu-niu, a drum                                 142
   XVII. Hawaiian musician playing on the uku-lele      164
  XVIII. Hala fruit bunch and drupe with a “lei”        170
    XIX. Pu (Triton tritonis)                           172
     XX. Phyllodia and true leaves of the koa
           (Acacia koa)                                 181
    XXI. Pala-palai ferns                               194
   XXII. Awa-puhi, a Hawaiian ginger                    210
  XXIII. Hinano hala                                    235
   XXIV. Lady dancing the hula ku’i                     250
FIGURE 1. Puíli, bamboo rattle                          113
       2. Ka, drumstick for pu-niu                      142
       3. Ohe-hano-ihu, nose-flute                      145


   I. Range of the nose-flute—Elsner                     146
  II. Music from the nose-flute—Elsner                   146
 III. The _ukeké_ (as played by Keaonaloa)—Eisner        149
  IV. Song from the hula pa’i-umauma—Berger              153
   V. Song from the hula pa-ipu—Berger                   153
  VI. Song for the hula Pele—Berger                      154
 VII. Oli and mele from the hula ala’a-papa—Yarndley     156
VIII. _He Inoa no Kamehameha_—Byington                   162
  IX. Song, _Poli Anuanu_—Yarndley                       164
   X. Song, _Hua-hua’i_—Yarndley                         166
  XI. Song, _Ka Mawae_—Berger                            167
 XII. Song, _Like no a Like_—Berger                      168
XIII. Song, _Pili Aoao_—Berger                           169
 XIV. _Hawaii Ponoi_—Berger                              172

[Page 7]


           This book is for the greater part a collection of Hawaiian
           songs and poetic pieces that have done service from time
           immemorial as the stock supply of the _hula_. The  descriptive
           portions have been added, not because the poetical parts
           could not stand by themselves, but to furnish the proper
           setting and to answer the questions of those who want to

           Now, the hula stood for very much to the ancient Hawaiian; it
           was to him in place of our concert-hall and lecture-room, our
           opera and theater, and thus became one of his chief means of
           social enjoyment. Besides this, it kept the communal
           imagination in living touch with the nation’s legendary past.
           The hula had songs proper to itself, but it found a mine of
           inexhaustible wealth in the epics and wonder-myths that
           celebrated the doings of the volcano goddess Pele and her
           compeers. Thus in the cantillations of the old-time hula we
           find a ready-made anthology that includes every species of
           composition in the whole range of Hawaiian poetry. This
           epic[1] of Pele was chiefly a more or less detached series of
           poems forming a story addressed not to the closet-reader, but
           to the eye and ear and heart of the assembled chiefs and
           people; and it was sung. The Hawaiian song, its note of joy
           par excellence, was the _oli_; but it must be noted that in
           every species of Hawaiian poetry, _mele_—whether epic or
           eulogy or prayer, sounding through them all we shall find the
           lyric note.

           [Footnote 1: It might be termed a handful of lyrics strung on
           an epic thread.]

           The most telling record of a people’s intimate life is the
           record which it unconsciously makes in its songs. This record
           which the Hawaiian people have left of themselves is full and
           specific. When, therefore, we ask what emotions stirred the
           heart of the old-time Hawaiian as he approached the great
           themes of life and death, of ambition and jealousy, of sexual
           passion, of romantic love, of conjugal love, and parental
           love, what his attitude toward nature and the dread forces of
           earthquake and storm, and the mysteries of spirit and the
           hereafter, we shall find our answer in the songs and prayers
           and recitations of the hula.

           The hula, it is true, has been unfortunate in the mode and
           manner of its introduction to us moderns. An institution of
           divine, that is, religious, origin, the hula in modern times
[Page 8]   has wandered so far and fallen so low that foreign and
           critical esteem has come to associate it with the riotous and
           passionate ebullitions of Polynesian kings and the amorous
           posturing of their voluptuaries. We must make a just
           distinction, however, between the gestures and bodily
           contortions presented by the men and women, the actors in the
           hula, and their uttered words. “The voice is Jacob’s voice,
           but the hands are the hands of Esau.” In truth, the actors in
           the hula no longer suit the action to the word. The utterance
           harks back to the golden age; the gesture is trumped up by
           the passion of the hour, or dictated by the master of the
           hula, to whom the real meaning of the old bards is ofttimes a
           sealed casket.
           Whatever indelicacy attaches in modern times to some of the
           gestures and contortions of the hula dancers, the old-time
           hula songs in large measure were untainted with grossness. If
           there ever were a Polynesian Arcadia, and if it were possible
           for true reports of the doings and sayings of the Polynesians
           to reach us from that happy land—reports of their joys and
           sorrows, their love-makings and their jealousies, their
           family spats and reconciliations, their worship of beauty and
           of the gods and goddesses who walked in the garden of
           beauty—we may say, I think, that such a report would be in
           substantial agreement with the report that is here offered;
           but, if one’s virtue will not endure the love-making of
           Arcadia, let him banish the myth from his imagination and hie
           to a convent or a nunnery.

           If this book does nothing more than prove that savages are
           only children of a younger growth than ourselves, that what
           we find them to have been we ourselves—in our
           ancestors—once were, the labor of making it will have been
           not in vain.

           For an account of the first hula we may look to the story
           of Pele. On one occasion that goddess begged her sisters to
           dance and sing before her, but they all excused themselves,
           saying they did not know the art. At that moment in came
           little Hiiaka, the youngest and the favorite. Unknown to her
           sisters, the little maiden had practised the dance under the
           tuition of her friend, the beautiful but ill-fated Hopoe.
           When banteringly invited to dance, to the surprise of all,
           Hiiaka modestly complied. The wave-beaten sand-beach was her
           floor, the open air her hall. Feet and hands and swaying
           form kept time to her improvisation:

                Look, Puna is a-dance in the wind;
                The palm groves of Kea-au shaken.
                Haena and the woman Hopoe dance and sing
                On the beach Nana-huki,
                A dance of purest delight,
                Down by the sea Nana-huki.

           The nature of this work has made it necessary to use
           occasional Hawaiian words in the technical parts. At their
[Page 9]   first introduction it has seemed fitting that they should be
           distinguished by italics; but, once given the entrée, it is
           assumed that, as a rule, they will be granted the rights of
           free speech without further explanation.

           A glossary, which explains all the Hawaiian words used in the
           prose text, is appended. Let no one imagine, however, that by
           the use of this little crutch alone he will be enabled to
           walk or stumble through the foreign ways of the simplest
           Hawaiian _mele_. Notes, often copious, have been appended to
           many of the mele, designed to exhaust neither the subject nor
           the reader, but to answer some of the questions of the
           intelligent thinker.

           Thanks, many thanks, are due, first, to those native
           Hawaiians who have so far broken with the old superstitious
           tradition of concealment as to unearth so much of the
           unwritten literary wealth stored in Hawaiian memories;
           second, to those who have kindly contributed criticism,
           suggestion, material at the different stages of this book’s
           progress; and, lastly, to those dear friends of the author’s
           youth—living or dead—whose kindness has made it possible to
           send out this fledgling to the world. The author feels under
           special obligations to Dr. Titus Munson Coan, of New York,
           for a painstaking revision of the manuscript.

           HONOLULU, HAWAII.

[Page 10][Blank]

[Page 11]

                             LITERATURE OF HAWAII

                           By NATHANIEL B. EMERSON

                                I.—THE HULA

           One turns from the study of old genealogies, myths, and
           traditions of the Hawaiians with a hungry despair at finding
           in them means so small for picturing the people themselves,
           their human interests and passions; but when it comes to the
           hula and the whole train of feelings and sentiments that made
           their entrances and exits in the _halau_ (the hall of the
           hula) one perceives that in this he has found the door to the
           heart of the people. So intimate and of so simple confidence
           are the revelations the people make of themselves in their
           songs and prattlings that when one undertakes to report what
           he has heard and to translate into the terms of modern speech
           what he has received in confidence, as it were, he almost
           blushes, as if he had been guilty of spying on Adam and Eve
           in their nuptial bower. Alas, if one could but muffle his
           speech with the unconscious lisp of infancy, or veil and tone
           his picture to correspond to the perspective of antiquity, he
           might feel at least that, like Watteau, he had dealt
           worthily, if not truly, with that ideal age which we ever
           think of as the world’s garden period.

           The Hawaiians, it is true, were many removes from being
           primitives; their dreams, however, harked back to a period
           that was close to the world’s infancy. Their remote ancestry
           was, perhaps, akin to ours—Aryan, at least Asiatic—but the
           orbit of their evolution seems to have led them away from the
           strenuous discipline that has whipped the Anglo-Saxon branch
           into fighting shape with fortune.

           If one comes to the study of the hula and its songs in the
           spirit of a censorious moralist he will find nothing for him;
           if as a pure ethnologist, he will take pleasure in pointing
           out the physical resemblances of the Hawaiian dance to the
           languorous grace of the Nautch girls, of the geisha, and
           other oriental dancers. But if he comes as a student and
           lover of human nature, back of the sensuous posturings, in
           the emotional language of the songs he will find himself
           entering the playground of the human race.

           The hula was a religious service, in which poetry, music,
           pantomime, and the dance lent themselves, under the forms of
[Page 12]  dramatic art, to the refreshment of men’s minds. Its view of
           life was idyllic, and it gave itself to the celebration of
           those mythical times when gods and goddesses moved on the
           earth as men and women and when men and women were as gods.
           As to subject-matter, its warp was spun largely from the
           bowels of the old-time mythology into cords through which the
           race maintained vital connection with its mysterious past.
           Interwoven with these, forming the woof, were threads of a
           thousand hues and of many fabrics, representing the
           imaginations of the poet, the speculations of the
           philosopher, the aspirations of many a thirsty soul, as well
           as the ravings and flame-colored pictures of the sensualist,
           the mutterings and incantations of the _kahuna_, the
           mysteries and paraphernalia of Polynesian mythology, the
           annals of the nation’s history—the material, in fact, which
           in another nation and under different circumstances would
           have gone to the making of its poetry, its drama, its opera,
           its literature.

           The people were superstitiously religious; one finds their
           drama saturated with religious feeling, hedged about with
           tabu, loaded down with prayer and sacrifice. They were
           poetical; nature was full of voices for their ears; their
           thoughts came to them as images; nature was to them an
           allegory; all this found expression in their dramatic art.
           They were musical; their drama must needs be cast in forms to
           suit their ideas of rhythm, of melody, and of poetic harmony.
           They were, moreover, the children of passion, sensuous,
           worshipful of whatever lends itself to pleasure. How, then,
           could the dramatic efforts of this primitive people, still in
           the bonds of animalism, escape the note of passion? The songs
           and other poetic pieces which have come down to us from the
           remotest antiquity are generally inspired with a purer
           sentiment and a loftier purpose than the modern; and it may
           be said of them all that when they do step into the mud it is
           not to tarry and wallow in it; it is rather with the
           unconscious naiveté of a child thinking no evil.

           On the principle of “the terminal conversion of opposites,”
           which the author once heard an old philosopher expound, the
           most advanced modern is better able to hark back to the
           sweetness and light and music of the primeval world than the
           veriest wigwam-dweller that ever chipped an arrowhead. It is
           not so much what the primitive man can give us as what we can
           find in him that is worth our while. The light that a Goethe,
           a Thoreau, or a Kipling can project into Arcadia is mirrored
           in his own nature.

           If one mistakes not the temper and mind of this generation,
           we are living in an age that is not content to let perish one
           seed of thought or one single phase of life that can be
           rescued from the drift of time. We mourn the extinction of
           the buffalo of the plains and of the birds of the islands,
[Page 13]  rightly thinking that life is somewhat less rich and full
           without them. What of the people of the plains and of the
           islands of the sea? Is their contribution so nothingless that
           one can affirm that the orbit of man’s mind is complete
           without it?

           Comparison is unavoidable between the place held by the dance
           in ancient Hawaii and that occupied by the dance in our
           modern society. The ancient Hawaiians did not personally and
           informally indulge in the dance for their own amusement, as
           does pleasure-loving society at the present time. Like the
           Shah of Persia, but for very different reasons, Hawaiians of
           the old time left it to be done for them by a body of trained
           and paid performers. This was not because the art and
           practice of the hula were held in disrepute—quite the
           reverse—but because the hula was an accomplishment requiring
           special education and arduous training in both song and
           dance, and more especially because it was a religious matter,
           to be guarded against profanation by the observance of tabus
           and the performance of priestly rites.

           This fact, which we find paralleled in every form of communal
           amusement, sport, and entertainment in ancient Hawaii, sheds
           a strong light on the genius of the Hawaiian. We are wont to
           think of the old-time Hawaiians as light-hearted children of
           nature, given to spontaneous outbursts of song and dance as
           the mood seized them; quite as the rustics of “merrie
           England” joined hands and tripped “the light fantastic toe”
           in the joyous month of May or shouted the harvest home at a
           later season. The genius of the Hawaiian was different. With
           him the dance was an affair of premeditation, an organized
           effort, guarded by the traditions of a somber religion. And
           this characteristic, with qualifications, will be found to
           belong to popular Hawaiian sport and amusement of every
           variety. Exception must be made, of course, of the
           unorganized sports of childhood. One is almost inclined to
           generalize and to say that those children of nature, as we
           are wont to call them, in this regard were less free and
           spontaneous than the more advanced race to which we are proud
           to belong. But if the approaches to the temple of Terpsichore
           with them were more guarded, we may confidently assert that
           their enjoyment therein was deeper and more abandoned.

[Page 14]

                                AND CONSECRATION

                                   THE HALAU

           In building a halau, or hall, in which to perform the hula a
           Hawaiian of the old, old time was making a temple for his
           god. In later and degenerate ages almost any structure would
           serve the purpose; it might be a flimsy shed or an
           extemporaneous _lanai_ such as is used to shelter that _al
           fresco_ entertainment, the _luau_. But in the old times of
           strict tabu and rigorous etiquette, when the chief had but to
           lift his hand and the entire population of a district
           ransacked plain, valley, and mountain to collect the poles,
           beams, thatch, and cordstuff; when the workers were so
           numerous that the structure grew and took shape in a day, we
           may well believe that ambitious and punctilious patrons of
           the hula, such as La’a, Liloa, or Lono-i-ka-makahiki, did not
           allow the divine art of Laka to house in a barn.

           The choice of a site was a matter of prime importance. A
           formidable code enunciated the principles governing the
           selection. But—a matter of great solicitude—there were
           omens to be heeded, snares and pitfalls devised by the
           superstitious mind for its own entanglement. The untimely
           sneeze, the ophthalmic eye, the hunched back were omens to be

           Within historic times, since the abrogation of the tabu
           system and the loosening of the old polytheistic ideas, there
           has been in the hula a lowering of former standards, in some
           respects a degeneration. The old gods, however, were not
           entirely dethroned; the people of the hula still continued to
           maintain the form of divine service and still appealed to
           them for good luck; but the soul of worship had exhaled; the
           main study now was to make of the hula a pecuniary success.

           In an important sense the old way was in sympathy with the
           thought, “Except God be with the workmen, they labor in vain
           that build the house.” The means for gaining divine favor and
           averting the frown of the gods were those practised by all
           religionists in the infantile state of the human mind—the
           observance of fasts and tabus, the offering of special
           prayers and sacrifices. The ceremonial purification of the
           site, or of the building if it had been used for profane
           purposes, was accomplished by aspersions with sea water mixed
           with turmeric or red earth.
[Page 15]
           When one considers the tenacious hold which all rites and
           ceremonies growing out of what we are accustomed to call
           superstitions had on the mind of the primitive Hawaiian, it
           puzzles one to account for the entire dropping out from
           modern memory of the prayers which were recited during the
           erection of a hall for the shelter of an institution so
           festive and so popular as the hula, while the prayers and
           gloomy ritual of the temple service have survived. The
           explanation may be found, perhaps, in the fact that the
           priests of the temple held position by the sovereign’s
           appointment; they formed a hierarchy by themselves, whereas
           the position of the _kumu-hula_, who was also a priest, was
           open to anyone who fitted himself for it by training and
           study and by passing successfully the _ai-lolo_[2] ordeal.
           After that he had the right to approach the altar of the hula
           god with the prescribed offerings and to present the prayers
           and petitions of the company to Laka or Kapo.

           [Footnote 2: _Ai-lolo_. See pp. 32, 34, 36.]

           In pleasing contrast to the worship of the _heiau_, the
           service of the hula was not marred by the presence of
           groaning victims and bloody sacrifices. Instead we find the
           offerings to have been mostly rustic tokens, things entirely
           consistent with light-heartedness, joy, and ecstasy of
           devotion, as if to celebrate the fact that heaven had come
           down to earth and Pan, with all the nymphs, was dancing.

           During the time the halau was building the tabus and rules
           that regulated conduct were enforced with the utmost
           strictness. The members of the company were required to
           maintain the greatest propriety of demeanor, to suppress all
           rudeness of speech and manner, to abstain from all carnal
           indulgence, to deny themselves specified articles of food,
           and above all to avoid contact with a corpse. If anyone, even
           by accident, suffered such defilement, before being received
           again into fellowship or permitted to enter the halau and
           take part in the exercises he must have ceremonial cleansing
           (_huikala_). The _kumu_ offered up prayers, sprinkled the
           offender with salt water and turmeric, commanded him to bathe
           in the ocean, and he was clean. If the breach of discipline
           was gross and willful, an act of outrageous violence or the
           neglect of tabu, the offender could be restored only after
           penitence and confession.

                                       THE KUAHU

           In every halau stood the _kuahu_, or altar, as the visible
           temporary abode of the deity, whose presence was at once the
           inspiration of the performance and the luck-bringer of the
           enterprise—a rustic frame embowered in greenery. The
           gathering of the green leaves and other sweet finery of
[Page 16]  nature for its construction and decoration was a matter of so
           great importance that it could not be intrusted to any chance
           assemblage of wild youth who might see fit to take the work
           in hand. There were formalities that must be observed, songs
           to be chanted, prayers to be recited. It was necessary to
           bear in mind that when one deflowered the woods of their
           fronds of _íe-íe_ and fern or tore the trailing lengths of
           _maile_—albeit in honor of Laka herself—the body of the
           goddess was being despoiled, and the despoiling must be done
           with all tactful grace and etiquette.

           It must not be gathered from this that the occasion was made
           solemn and oppressive with weight of ceremony, as when a
           temple was erected or as when a tabu chief walked abroad, and
           all men lay with their mouths in the dust. On the contrary,
           it was a time of joy and decorous exultation, a time when in
           prayer-songs and ascriptions of praise the poet ransacked all
           nature for figures and allusions to be used in caressing the

           The following adulatory prayer (_kánaenáe_) in adoration of
           Laka was recited while gathering the woodland decorations for
           the altar. It is worthy of preservation for its intrinsic
           beauty, for the spirit of trustfulness it breathes. We remark
           the petitions it utters for the growth of tree and shrub, as
           if Laka had been the alma mater under whose influence all
           nature budded and rejoiced.

           It would seem as if the physical ecstasy of the dance and the
           sensuous joy of all nature’s finery had breathed their spirit
           into the aspiration and that the beauty of leaf and flower,
           all of them familiar forms of the god’s
           metamorphosis—accessible to their touch and for the
           regalement of their senses—had brought such nearness and
           dearness, of affection between goddess and worshiper that all
           fear was removed.

                _He kánaenáe no Laka_

                A ke kua-hiwi, i ke kua-lono,
                Ku ana o Laka i ka mauna;
                Noho ana o Laka i ke po’o o ka ohu.
                O Laka kumu hula,
           5    Nana i a’e ka wao-kele,[3]
                Kahi, kahi i moli’a i ka pua’a,
                I ke po’o pua’a,
                He pua’a hiwa na Kane.[4]
[Page 17]       He kane na Laka,
            10  Na ka wahine i oni a kelakela i ka lani:
                I kupu ke a’a i ke kumu,
                I lau a puka ka mu’o,
                Ka liko, ka ao i-luna.
                Kupu ka lala, hua ma ka Hikina;
            15  Kupu ka laau ona a Maka-li’i,[5]
                O Maka-lei,[6] laau kaulana mai ka Po mai.[7]
                Mai ka Po mai ka oiaio—
                I ho-i’o i-luna, i o’o i-luna.
                He luna au e ki’i mai nei ia oe, e Laka,
            20  E ho’i ke ko-kua[8] pa-ú;
                He la uniki[9] e no kaua;
                Ha-ike-ike[10] o ke Akua;
                Hoike ka mana o ka Wahine,
                O Laka, kaikuahine,
            25  Wahine a Lono i ka ou-alii.[11]
                E Lono, e hu’[12] ia mai ka lani me ka honua.
                Nou okoa Kukulu o Kahiki.[13]
                Me ke ano-ai[14] i aloha, e!
                E ola, e!

           [Footnote 3: _Wao-kele_. That portion of the mountain forest
           where grew the monarch trees was called _wao-kele_ or

           [Footnote 4: _Na Kane_. Why was the offering, the black roast
           porkling, said to be for Kane, who was not a special patron,
           _au-makúa_, of the hula? The only answer the author has been
           able to obtain from any Hawaiian is that, though Kane was not
           a god of the hula, he was a near relative. On reflection, the
           author can see a propriety in devoting the reeking flesh of
           the swine to god Kane, while to the sylvan deity, Lâkâ,
           goddess of the peaceful hula, were devoted the rustic
           offerings that were the embodiment of her charms. Her image,
           or token—an uncarved block of wood—was set up in a
           prominent part of the _kuahu_, and at the close of a
           performance the wreaths that had been worn by the actors were
           draped about the image. Thus viewed, there is a delicate
           propriety and significance in such disposal of the pig.]

           [Footnote 5: _Maka-li’i_ (Small eyes). The Pleiades; also the
           period of six months, including the rainy season, that began
           some time in October or November and was reckoned from the
           date when the Pleiades appeared in the East at sunset.
           _Maka-li’i_ was also the name of a month, by some reckoned as
           the first month of the year.]

           [Footnote 6: _Maka-léi_. The name of a famous mythological
           tree which had the power of attracting fish. It did not
           poison, but only bewitched or fascinated them. There were two
           trees bearing this name, one a male, the other a female,
           which both grew at a place in Hilo called Pali-uli. One of
           these, the female, was, according to tradition, carried from
           its root home to the fish ponds in Kailua, Oahu, for the
           purpose of attracting fish to the neighboring waters. The
           enterprise was eminently successful.]

           [Footnote 7: _Po_. Literally night; the period in cosmogony
           when darkness and chaos reigned, before the affairs on earth
           had become settled under the rule of the gods. Here the word
           is used to indicate a period of remote mythologic antiquity.
           The use of the word _Po_ in the following verse reminds one
           of the French adage, “La nuit porte conseil.”]

           [Footnote 8: _Kokúa_. Another form for _kakúa_, to gird on
           the _pa-ú_. (See _Pa-ú_ song, pp. 51–53.)]

           [Footnote 9: _Uníki_. A word not given in the dictionary. The
           debut of an actor at the hula, after passing the _ai-lolo_
           test and graduating from the school of the halau, a critical

           [Footnote 10: _Ha-íke-íke_. Equivalent to _ho-íke-íke_, an
           exhibition, to exhibit.]

           [Footnote 11: _Ou-alii_. The Hawaiians seem to have lost the
           meaning of this word. The author has been at some pains to
           work it out somewhat conjecturally.]

           [Footnote 12: _E Lono, e hu’ ia, mai, etc_. The unelided form
           of the word _hu’_ would be _hui_. The final _i_ is dropped
           before the similar vowel of _ia_.]

           [Footnote 13: _Kukúlu o Kahíki_. The pillars of Kahiki. The
           ancient Hawaiians supposed the starry heavens to be a solid
           dome supported by a wall or vertical
           construction—_kukulu_—set up along the horizon. That
           section of the wall that stood over against Kahiki they
           termed _Kukulu o Kahiki_. Our geographical name Tahiti is of
           course from Kahiki, though it does not apply to the same
           region. After the close of what has been termed “the period
           of intercourse,” which, came probably during the twelfth and
           thirteenth centuries, and during which the ancient Hawaiians
           voyaged to and fro between Hawaii and the lands of the South,
           geographical ideas became hazy and the term _Kahiki_ came to
           be applied to any foreign country.]

           [Footnote 14: _Áno-ái_. An old form of salutation, answering
           in general to the more modern word aloha, much used at the
           present time. _Ano-ai_ seems to have had a shade of meaning
           more nearly answering to our word “welcome.” This is the
           first instance the author has met with of its use in poetry.]

[Page 18]

                   _A Prayer of Adulation to Laka_

                In the forests, on the ridges
                Of the mountains stands Laka;
                Dwelling in the source of the mists.
                Laka, mistress of the hula,
            5   Has climbed the wooded haunts of the gods,
                Altars hallowed by the sacrificial swine,
                The head of the boar, the black boar of Kane.
                A partner he with Laka;
                Woman, she by strife gained rank in heaven.
           10   That the root may grow from the stem,
                That the young shoot may put forth and leaf,
                Pushing up the fresh enfolded bud,
                The scion-thrust bud and fruit toward the East,
                Like the tree that bewitches the winter fish,
           15   Maka-lei, tree famed from the age of night.
                Truth is the counsel of night—
                May it fruit and ripen above.
                A messenger I bring you, O Laka,
                To the girding of paû.
           20   An opening festa this for thee and me;
                To show the might of the god,
                The power of the goddess,
                Of Laka, the sister,
                To Lono a wife in the heavenly courts.
           25   O Lono, join heaven and earth!
                Thine alone are the pillars of Kahiki.
                Warm greeting, beloved one,
                We hail thee!

           The cult of god Lono was milder, more humane, than that of
           Kane and the other major gods. No human sacrifices were
           offered on his altars.—The statement in verse 26 accords
           with the general belief of the Hawaiians that Lono dwelt in
           foreign parts, _Kukulu o Kahiki_, and that he would some time
           come to them from across the waters. When Captain Cook
           arrived in his ships, the Hawaiians worshiped him as the god


           The following song-prayer also is one that was used at the
           gathering of the greenery in the mountains and during the
           building of the altar in the halau. When recited in the halau
           all the pupils took part, and the chorus was a response in
           which the whole assembly in the halau were expected to join:

                           _Pule Kuahu no Laka_

                    Haki pu o ka nahelehele,
                    Haki hana maile o ka wao,
[Page 19]           Hooulu[15] lei ou, o Laka, e!
                    O Hiiaka[16] ke kaula nana e hooulu na ma’i,
                5   A aeae a ulu[17] a noho i kou kuahu,
                    Eia ka pule la, he pule ola,
                    He noi ola nou, e-e!

                    E ola ia makou, aohe hala!


                       _Altar-Prayer to Laka_

                    This spoil and rape of the wildwood,
                    This plucking of wilderness maile—
                    Collect of garlands, Laka, for you.
                    Hiiaka, the prophet, heals our diseases.
                5   Enter, possess, inspire your altar;
                    Heed our prayer, ’tis for life;
                    Our petition to you is for life.


                    Give us life, save from transgression!

           [Footnote 15: _Hoo-ulu_. This word has a considerable range of
           meaning, well illustrated in this mele. In its simplest form,
           _ulu_, it means to grow, to become strong. Joined with the
           causative _hoo_, as here, it takes on the spiritual meaning
           of causing to prosper, of inspiring. The word “collect,” used
           in the translation, has been chosen to express the double
           sense of gathering the garlands and of devoting them to the
           goddess as a religious offering. In the fourth verse this
           word, _hooulu_, is used in the sense of to heal. Compare note

           [Footnote 16: _Hiiaka_. The youngest sister of Pele, often
           spoken of as _Hiiaka-i-ka-poli-o-Pele_,
           Hiiaka-of-the-bosom-of-Pele. Why she should be spoken of as
           capable of healing diseases is not at all clear.]

           [Footnote 17: _Ulu_. Here we have the word _ulu_ in its
           simple, uncombined form, meaning to enter into and inspire.]

           The wildwoods of Hawaii furnished in great abundance and
           variety small poles for the framework of the kuahu, the
           altar, the holy place of the halau, and sweet-scented leaves
           and flowers suitable for its decoration. A spirit of fitness,
           however, limited choice among these to certain species that
           were deemed acceptable to the goddess because they were
           reckoned as among her favorite forms of metamorphosis. To go
           outside this ordained and traditional range would have been
           an offense, a sacrilege. This critical spirit would have
           looked with the greatest disfavor on the practice that in
           modern times has crept in, of bedecking the dancers with
           garlands of roses, pinks, jessamine, and other nonindigenous
           flowers, as being utterly repugnant to the traditional spirit
           of the hula.

           Among decorations approved and most highly esteemed stood
           pre-eminent the fragrant maile (pl. IV) and the star-like
           fronds and ruddy drupe of the _íe-íe_ (pl. II) and its
           kindred, the _hála-pépe_ (pl. III); the scarlet pompons of
           the _lehúa_ (pl. XIII) and _ohi’a_, with the fruit of the
           latter (the mountain-apple); many varieties of fern,
           including that splendid parasite, the “bird’s nest fern”
[Page 20]  (_ekáha_), hailed by the Hawaiians as Mawi’s paddle; to which
           must be added the commoner leaves and lemon-colored flowers
           of the native hibiscus, the _hau_, the breadfruit, the native
           banana and the dracæna (_ti_), plate V; and lastly, richest
           of all, in the color that became Hawaii’s favorite, the royal
           yellow _ilíma_ (pl. VI), a flower familiar to the eyes of the
           tourist to Honolulu.

           While deft hands are building and weaving the light framework
           of the kuahu, binding its parts with strong vines and
           decorating it with nature’s sumptuous embroidery, the _kumu_,
           or teacher, under the inspiration of the deity, for whose
           residence he has prepared himself by long vigil and fasting
           with fleshly abstinence, having spent the previous night
           alone in the halau, is chanting or cantillating his adulatory
           prayers, _kanaenae_—songs of praise they seem to be—to the
           glorification of the gods and goddesses who are invited to
           bless the occasion with their presence and inspiration, but
           especially of that one, Laka, whose bodily presence is
           symbolized by a rude block of wood arrayed in yellow tapa
           that is set up on the altar itself. Thus does the kumu sing:

                    _Pule Kuahu_

                Ei’ au e Laka mai uka,
                E Laka mai kai;
                O hooulu
                O ka ilio[18] nana e hae,
            5   O ka maile hihi i ka wao,
                O ka lau-ki[19] lei o ke akua,
                O na ku’i hauoli
                O Ha’i-ka-manawa.[20]
                O Laka oe,
           10   O ke akua i ke kuahu nei, la;
                E ho’i, ho’i mai a noho i kou kuahu!


                     _Altar-Prayer_ (to Laka)

                Here am I, oh Laka from the mountains,
                Oh Laka from the shore;
                Protect us
                Against the dog that barks;

[Page 21]    5  Reside in the wild-twining maile
                And the goddess-enwreathing ti.
                All, the joyful pulses.
                Of the woman Ha’i-ka-manawa!
                Thou art Laka,
            10  The god of this altar;
                Return, return, abide in thy shrine!

           [Footnote 18: _Ilio nana e hae_. The barking of a dog, the
           crowing of a cock, the grunting of a pig, the hooting of an
           owl, or any such sound occurring at the time of a religious
           solemnity, _aha_, broke the spell of the incantation and
           vitiated the ceremony. Such an untimely accident was as much
           deprecated as were the Turk, the Comet, and the Devil by
           pious Christian souls during the Middle Ages.]

           [Footnote 19: _Lau-ki_. The leaf of the _ti_ plant—the
           same as the _ki_—(Dracæna terminalis), much used as an emblem
           of divine power, a charm or defense against malign spiritual
           influences. The kahuna often wore about his neck a fillet of
           this leaf. The _ti_ leaf was a special emblem of Ha’i-wahine,
           or of Li’a-wahine. It was much used as a decoration about the

           [Footnote 20: _Ha’i-ka-manawa_. It is conjectured that this is
           the same as Ha’i-wahine. She was a mythological character,
           about whom there is a long and tragic story.]

           The prayers which the hula folk of old times chanted while
           gathering the material in the woods or while weaving it into
           shape in the halau for the construction of a shrine did not
           form a rigid liturgy; they formed rather a repertory as
           elastic as the sighing of the breeze, or the songs of the
           birds whose notes embroidered the pure mountain air. There
           were many altar-prayers, so that if a prayer came to an end
           before the work was done the priest had but to begin the
           recitation of another prayer, or, if the spirit of the
           occasion so moved him, he would take up again a prayer
           already repeated, for until the work was entirely
           accomplished the voice of prayer must continue to be heard.

           The _pule_ now to be given seems to be specially suited to
           that portion of the service which took place in the woods at
           the gathering of the poles and greenery. It was designed
           specially for the placating of the little god-folk who from
           their number were addressed as _Kini o ke Akua_, the
           multitude of the little gods, and who were the counterparts
           in old Hawaii of our brownies, elfins, sprites, kobolds,
           gnomes, and other woodland imps. These creatures, though
           dwarfish and insignificant in person, were in such
           numbers—four thousand, forty thousand, four hundred
           thousand—and were so impatient of any invasion of their
           territory, so jealous of their prerogatives, so spiteful and
           revengeful when injured, that it was policy always to keep on
           the right side of them.

                      _Pule Kuahu_

                E hooulu ana I Kini[21] o ke Akua,
                Ka lehu o ke Akua,
                Ka mano o ke Akua,
                I ka pu-ku’i o ke Akua,
            5   I ka lalani Akua,
                Ia ulu mai o Kane,
                Ulu o Kanaloa;
                Ulu ka ohia, lau ka ie-ie;
                Ulu ke Akua, noho i ke kahua,
           10   A a’ea’e, a ulu, a noho kou kuahu.
                Eia ka pule la, he pule ola.


                E ola ana oe!

           [Footnote 21: _Kini o ke Akua._ See note _d_, p. 24.]

[Page 22]



                Invoke we now the four thousand,
                The myriads four of the nimble,
                The four hundred thousand elves,
                The countless host of sprites,
            5   Rank upon rank of woodland gods.
                Pray, Kane, also inspire us;
                Kanaloa, too, join the assembly.
                Now grows the _ohi’a_, now leafs _ie-ie_;
                God enters, resides in the place;
           10   He mounts, inspires, abides in the shrine.
                This is our prayer, our plea this for life!


                Life shall be thine!

           From one point of view these _pule_ are not to be regarded as
           prayers in the ordinary sense of the word, but rather as
           song-offerings, verbal bouquets, affectionate sacrifices to
           the gods.

[Page 23]

                           III.—THE GODS OF THE HULA.

           Of what nature were the gods of the old times, and how did
           the ancient Hawaiians conceive of them? As of beings having
           the form, the powers, and the passions of humanity, yet
           standing above and somewhat apart from men. One sees, as
           through a mist, darkly, a figure, standing, moving; in shape
           a plant, a tree or vine-clad stump, a bird, a taloned
           monster, a rock carved by the fire-queen, a human form, a
           puff of vapor—and now it has given place to vacancy. It was
           a goddess, perhaps of the hula. In the solitude of the
           wilderness one meets a youthful being of pleasing address, of
           godlike wit, of elusive beauty; the charm of her countenance
           unspoken authority, her gesture command. She seems one with
           nature, yet commanding it. Food placed before her remains
           untasted; the oven, _imu_,[22] in which the fascinated host
           has heaped his abundance, preparing for a feast, when opened
           is found empty; the guest of an hour has disappeared. Again
           it was a goddess, perhaps of the hula. Or, again, a traveler
           meets a creature of divine beauty, all smiles and loveliness.
           The infatuated mortal, smitten with hopeless passion, offers
           blandishments; he finds himself by the roadside embracing a
           rock. It was a goddess of the hula.

           The gods, great and small, superior and inferior, whom the
           devotees and practitioners of the hula worshiped and sought
           to placate were many; but the goddess Laka was the one to
           whom they offered special prayers and sacrifices and to whom
           they looked as the patron, the _au-makua_,[23] of that
           institution. It was for her benefit and in her honor that the
           kuahu was set up, and the wealth of flower and leaf used in
           its decoration was emblematic of her beauty and glory, a
           pledge of her bodily presence, the very forms that she, a
           sylvan deity, was wont to assume when she pleased to manifest

           As an additional crutch to the imagination and to emphasize
           the fact of her real presence on the altar which she had been
           invoked to occupy as her abode, she was symbolized by an
           uncarved block of wood from the sacred _lama_[24] tree. This
           was wrapped in a robe of choice yellow tapa, scented with
           turmeric, and set conspicuously upon the altar.

           [Footnote 22: _Imu_. The Hawaiian oven, which was a hole in
           the ground lined and arched over with stones.]

           [Footnote 23: _Au-makua_. An ancestral god.]

           [Footnote 24: _Lama_. A beautiful tree having firm,
           fine-grained, white wood; used in making sacred inclosures
           and for other tabu purposes.]
[Page 24]
           Laka was invoked as the god of the maile, the ie-ie, and
           other wildwood growths before mentioned (pl. II). She was
           hailed as the “sister, wife, of god Lono,” as “the one who by
           striving attained favor with the gods of the upper ether;” as
           “the kumu[25] hula”—head teacher of the Terpsichorean art;
           “the fount of joy;” “the prophet who brings health to the
           sick;” “the one whose presence gives life.” In one of the
           prayers to Laka she is besought to come and take possession
           of the worshiper, to dwell in him as in a temple, to inspire
           him in all his parts and faculties—voice, hands, feet, the
           whole body.

           Laka seems to have been a friend, but not a relative, of the
           numerous Pele family. So far as the author has observed, the
           fiery goddess is never invited to grace the altar with her
           presence, nor is her name so much as mentioned in any prayer
           met with.

           To compare the gods of the Hawaiian pantheon with those of
           classic Greece, the sphere occupied by Laka corresponds most
           nearly to that filled by Terpsichore and Euterpe, the muses,
           respectively, of dance and of song. Lono, in one song spoken
           of as the husband of Laka, had features in common with

           That other gods, Kane, Ku, Kanaloa,[26] with Lono,
           Ku-pulupulu,[27] and the whole swarm of godlings that peopled
           the wildwood, were also invited to favor the performances
           with their presence can be satisfactorily explained on the
           ground, first, that all the gods were in a sense members of
           one family, related to each other by intermarriage, if not by
           the ties of kinship; and, second, by the patent fact of that
           great underlying cause of bitterness and strife among
           immortals as well as mortals, jealousy. It would have been an
           eruptive occasion of heart-burning and scandal if by any
           mischance a privileged one should have had occasion to feel
           slighted; and to have failed in courtesy to that countless
           host of wilderness imps and godlings, the _Kini Akua_,[28]
           mischievous and irreverent as the monkeys of India, would
           indeed have been to tempt a disaster.

           While it is true that the testimony of the various
           _kumu-hula_, teachers of the hula, and devotees of the art of
           the hula, so far as the author has talked with them, has been
           overwhelmingly to the effect that Laka was the one and only
           divine patron of the art known to them, there has been a
           small number equally ready to assert that there were those
           who observed the cult of the goddess Kapo and worshiped her
[Page 25]  as the patron of the hula. The positive testimony of these
           witnesses must be reckoned as of more weight than the
           negative testimony of a much larger number, who either have
           not seen or will not look at the other side of the shield. At
           any rate, among the prayers before the kuahu, of which there
           are others yet to be presented, will be found several
           addressed to Kapo as the divine patron of the hula.

           [Footnote 25: The teacher, a leader and priest of the hula.
           The modern school-master is called _kumu-kula_.]

           [Footnote 26: _Kanaloa_. Kane, Ku, Kanaloa, and Lono were the
           major gods of the Hawaiian pantheon.]

           [Footnote 27: _Ku-pulupulu_. A god of the canoe-makers.]

           [Footnote 28: _Kini Akua_. A general expression—often used
           together with the ones that follow—meaning the countless
           swarms of brownies, elfs, kobolds, sprites, and other
           godlings (mischievous imps) that peopled the wilderness.
           _Kini_ means literally 40,000, _lehu_ 400,000, and _mano_
           4,000. See the _Pule Kuahu_—altar-prayer—on page 21. The
           Hawaiians, curiously enough, did not put the words _mano_,
           _kini_, and _lehu_ in the order of their numerical value.]


           Kapo was sister of Pele and the daughter of Haumea.[29] Among
           other roles played by her, like Laka she was at times a
           sylvan deity, and it was in the garb of woodland
           representations that she was worshiped by hula folk. Her
           forms of activity, corresponding to her different
           metamorphoses, were numerous, in one of which she was at
           times “employed by the _kahuna_[30] as a messenger in their
           black arts, and she is claimed by many as an _aumakua_,” [31]
           said to be the sister of Kalai-pahoa, the poison god.

           [Footnote 29: _Haumea_. The ancient goddess, or ancestor, the
           sixth in line of descent from Wakea.]

           [Footnote 30: _Kahuna._ A sorcerer; with a qualifying
           adjective it meant a skilled craftsman; _Kahuna-kalai-wa’a_
           was a canoe-builder; _kahuna lapaau_ was a medicine-man, a
           doctor, etc.]

           [Footnote 31: The Lesser Gods of Hawaii, a paper by Joseph S.
           Emerson, read before the Hawaiian Historical Society, April
           7, 1892.]

           Unfortunately Kapo had an evil name on account of a
           propensity which led her at times to commit actions that seem
           worthy only of a demon of lewdness. This was, however, only
           the hysteria of a moment, not the settled habit of her life.
           On one notable occasion, by diverting the attention of the
           bestial pig-god Kama-pua’a, and by vividly presenting to him
           a temptation well adapted to his gross nature, she succeeded
           in enticing him away at a critical moment, and thus rescued
           her sister Pele at a time when the latter’s life was
           imperiled by an unclean and violent assault from the

           Like Catherine of Russia, who in one mood was the patron of
           literature and of the arts and sciences and in another mood a
           very satyr, so the Hawaiian goddess Kapo seems to have lived
           a double life whose aims were at cross purposes with one
           another—now an angel of grace and beauty, now a demon of
           darkness and lust.

           Do we not find in this the counterpart of nature’s twofold
           aspect, who presents herself to dependent humanity at one
           time as an alma mater, the food-giver, a divinity of joy and
           comfort, at another time as the demon of the storm and
           earthquake, a plowshare of fiery destruction?

           The name of Hiiaka, the sister of Pele, is one often
           mentioned in the prayers of the hula.
[Page 26]


           In ancient times the hula to a large extent was a creature of
           royal support, and for good reason. The actors in this
           institution were not producers of life’s necessaries. To the
           _alii_ belonged the land and the sea and all the useful
           products thereof. Even the jetsam whale-tooth and wreckage
           scraps of iron that ocean cast up on the shore were claimed
           by the lord of the land. Everything was the king’s. Thus it
           followed of necessity that the support of the hula must in
           the end rest upon the alii. As in ancient Rome it was a
           senator or general, enriched by the spoil of a province, who
           promoted the sports of the arena, so in ancient Hawaii it was
           the chief or headman of the district who took the initiative
           in the promotion of the people’s communistic sports and of
           the hula.

           We must not imagine that the hula was a thing only of kings’
           courts and chiefish residences. It had another and democratic
           side. The passion for the hula was broadspread. If other
           agencies failed to meet the demand, there was nothing to
           prevent a company of enthusiasts from joining themselves
           together in the pleasures and, it might be, the profits of
           the hula. Their spokesman—designated as the _po’o-puaa_,
           from the fact that a pig, or a boar’s head, was required of
           him as an offering at the kuahu—was authorized to secure the
           services of some expert to be their kumu. But with the hula
           all roads lead to the king’s court.

           Let us imagine a scene at the king’s residence. The alii,
           rousing from his sloth and rubbing his eyes, rheumy with
           debauch and _awa_, overhears remark on the doings of a new
           company of hula dancers who have come into the neighborhood.
           He summons his chief steward.

           “What is this new thing of which they babble?” he demands.

           “It is nothing, son of heaven,” answers the kneeling steward.

           “They spoke of a hula. Tell me, what is it?”

           “Ah, thou heaven-born (_lani_), it was but a trifle—a new
           company, young graduates of the halau, have set themselves up
           as great ones; mere rustics; they have no proper acquaintance
           with the traditions of the art as taught by the bards of...
           your majesty’s father. They mouth and twist the old songs
           all awry, thou son of heaven.”

           “Enough. I will hear them to-morrow. Send a messenger for
           this new kumu. Fill again my bowl with awa.”
[Page 27]
           Thus it comes about that the new hula company gains audience
           at court and walks the road that, perchance, leads to
           fortune. Success to the men and women of the hula means not
           merely applause, in return for the incense of flattery; it
           means also a shower of substantial favors—food, garments,
           the smile of royalty, perhaps land—things that make life a
           festival. If welcome grows cold and it becomes evident that
           the harvest has been reaped, they move on to fresh woods and
           pastures new.

           To return from this apparent digression, it was at the king’s
           court—if we may extend the courtesy of this phrase to a
           group of thatched houses—that were gathered the bards and
           those skilled in song, those in whose memories were stored
           the mythologies, traditions, genealogies, proverbial wisdom,
           and poetry that, warmed by emotion, was the stuff from which
           was spun the songs of the hula. As fire is produced by
           friction, so it was often by the congress of wits rather than
           by the flashing of genius that the songs of the hula were

           The composition and criticism of a poetical passage were a
           matter of high importance, often requiring many suggestions
           and much consultation. If the poem was to be a _mele-inoa_, a
           name-song to eulogize some royal or princely scion, it must
           contain no word of ill-omen. The fate-compelling power of
           such a word, once shot from the mouth, was beyond recall.
           Like the incantation of the sorcerer, the _kahuna ánaaná_, it
           meant death to the eulogized one. If not, it recoiled on the
           life of the singer.

           The verbal form once settled, it remained only to stereotype
           it on the memories of the men and women who constituted the
           literary court or conclave. Think not that only thus were
           poems produced in ancient Hawaii. The great majority of songs
           were probably the fruit of solitary inspiration, in which the
           bard poured out his heart like a song-bird, or uttered his
           lone vision as a seer. The method of poem production in
           conclave may be termed the official method. It was often done
           at the command of an alii. So much for the fabrication, the
           weaving, of a song.

           If the composition was intended as a eulogy, it was
           cantillated ceremoniously before the one it honored; if in
           anticipation of a prince yet unborn, it was daily recited
           before the mother until the hour of her delivery; and this
           cantillation published it abroad. If the song was for
           production in the hula, it lay warm in the mind of the kumu,
           the master and teacher of the hula, until such time as he had
           organized his company.

           The court of the alii was a vortex that drew in not only the
           bards and men of lore, but the gay and fashionable rout of
           pleasure-seekers, the young men and women of shapely form and
           gracious presence, the sons and daughters of the king’s
[Page 28]  henchmen and favorites; among them, perhaps, the offspring of
           the king’s morganatic alliances and amours—the flower and
           pick of Hawaii’s youth. From these the kumu selected those
           most fitted by beauty and grace of form, as well as quickness
           of wit and liveliness of imagination, to take part in the

           The performers in the hula were divided into two classes, the
           _olapa_—agile ones—and the _ho’o-paa_—steadfast ones. The
           rôle of olapa, as was fitting, was assigned to the young men
           and young women who could best illustrate in their persons
           the grace and beauty of the human form. It was theirs,
           sometimes while singing, to move and pose and gesture in the
           dance; sometimes also to punctuate their song and action with
           the lighter instruments of music. The rôle of ho’o-paa, on
           the other hand, was given to men and women of greater
           experience and of more maturity. They handled the heavier
           instruments and played their parts mostly while sitting or
           kneeling, marking the time with their instrumentation. They
           also lent their voices to swell the chorus or utter the
           refrain of certain songs, sometimes taking the lead in the
           song or bearing its whole burden, while the light-footed
           olapa gave themselves entirely to the dance. The part of the
           ho’o-paa was indeed the heavier, the more exacting duty.

           Such was the personnel of a hula troupe when first gathered
           by the hula-master for training and drill in the halau, now
           become a school for the hula. Among the pupils the kumu was
           sure to find some old hands at the business, whose presence,
           like that of veterans in a squad of recruits, was a leaven to
           inspire the whole company with due respect for the spirit and
           traditions of the historic institution and to breed in the
           members the patience necessary to bring them to the highest

           The instruction of the kumu, as we are informed, took a wide
           range. It dealt in elaborate detail on such matters as
           accent, inflection, and all that concerns utterance and
           vocalization. It naturally paid great attention to gesture
           and pose, attitude and bodily action. That it included
           comment on the meaning that lay back of the words may be
           gravely doubted. The average hula dancer of modern times
           shows great ignorance of the mele he recites, and this is
           true even of the kumu-hula. His work too often is largely
           perfunctory, a matter of sound and form, without appeal to
           the intellect.

           It would not be legitimate, however, to conclude from this
           that ignorance of the meaning was the rule in old times;
           those were the days when the nation’s traditional songs,
           myths, and lore formed the equipment of every alert and
           receptive mind, chief or commoner. There was no printed page
           to while away the hours of idleness. The library was stored
           in one’s memory. The language of the mele, which now has
[Page 29]  become antiquated, then was familiar speech. For a kumu-hula
           to have given instruction in the meaning of a song would have
           been a superfluity, as if one at the present day were to
           inform a group of well-educated actors and actresses who was
           Pompey or Julius Cæsar.

           “Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you,
           trippingly on the tongue.” Hamlet’s words to the players
           were, it may be supposed, the substance of the kumu’s
           instructions to the pupils in his halau.

           The organization of a hula company was largely democratic.
           The kumu—in modern sense, the teacher—was the leader and
           conductor, responsible for the training and discipline of the
           company. He was the business manager of the enterprise; the
           priest, _kahuna_, the leader in the religious exercises, the
           one who interpreted the will of heaven, especially of the
           gods whose favor determined success. He might be called to
           his position by the choice of the company, appointed by the
           command of the alii who promoted the enterprise, or
           self-elected in case the enterprise was his own. He had under
           him a _kokua kumu_, a deputy, who took charge during his

           The _po’o-puaa_ was an officer chosen by the pupils to be
           their special agent and mouthpiece. He saw to the execution
           of the kumu’s judgments and commands, collected the fines,
           and exacted the penalties imposed by the kumu. It fell to him
           to convey to the altar the presents of garlands, awa, and the
           like that were contributed to the halau.

           The _paepae_, also chosen by the pupils, subject to
           confirmation by the kumu, acted as an assistant of the
           po’o-puaa. During the construction of the kuahu the po’o-puaa
           stood to the right, the paepae at his left. They were in a
           general sense guardians of the kuahu.

           The _ho’o-ulu_ was the guard stationed at the door. He
           sprinkled with sea-water mixed with turmeric everyone who
           entered the halau. He also acted as sergeant-at-arms to keep
           order and remove anyone who made a disturbance. It was his
           duty each day to place a fresh bowl of awa on the altar of
           the goddess (_hanai kuahu_), literally to feed the altar.

           In addition to these officials, a hula company naturally
           required the services of a miscellaneous retinue of stewards,
           cooks, fishermen, hewers of wood, and drawers of water.

                           RULES OF CONDUCT AND TABUS

           Without a body of rules, a strict penal code, and a firm hand
           to hold in check the hot bloods of both sexes, it would have
           been impossible to keep order and to accomplish the business
           purpose of the organization. The explosive force of passion
           would have made the gathering a signal for the breaking loose
           of pandemonium. That it did not always so result is a
[Page 30]   compliment alike to the self-restraint of the people and to
           the sway that artistic ideals held over their minds, but,
           above all, to a peculiar system of discipline wisely adapted
           to the necessities of human nature. It does not seem likely
           that a Thespian band of our own race would have held their
           passions under equal check if surrounded by the same
           temptations and given the same opportunities as these
           Polynesians. It may well be doubted if the bare authority of
           the kumu would have sufficed to maintain discipline and to
           keep order, had it not been reenforced by the dread powers of
           the spirit world in the shape of the _tabu_.

           The awful grasp of this law; this repressive force, the tabu,
           held fast the student from the moment of his entrance into
           the halau. It denied this pleasure, shut off that innocent
           indulgence, curtailed liberty in this direction and in that.
           The tabu waved before his imagination like a flaming sword,
           barring approach to the Eden of his strongest propensity.

           The rules and discipline of the halau, the school for the
           hula, from our point of view, were a mixture of shrewd common
           sense and whimsical superstition. Under the head of tabus
           certain articles of food were denied; for instance, the
           sugar-cane—_ko_—was forbidden. The reason assigned was that
           if one indulged in it his work as a practitioner would amount
           to nothing; in the language of the kumu, _aohe e leo ana kana
           mau hana_, his work will be a failure. The argument turned on
           the double meaning of the word _ko_, the first meaning being
           sugar cane, the second, accomplishment. The Hawaiians were
           much impressed by such whimsical nominalisms. Yet there is a
           backing of good sense to the rule. Anyone who has chewed the
           sweet stalk can testify that for some time thereafter his
           voice is rough, ill-fitted for singing or elocution.

           The strictest propriety and decorum were exacted of the
           pupils; there must be no license whatever. Even married
           people during the weeks preceding graduation must observe
           abstinence toward their partners. The whole power of one’s
           being must be devoted to the pursuit of art.

           The rules demanded also the most punctilious personal
           cleanliness. Above all things, one must avoid contact with a
           corpse. Such defilement barred one from entrance to the halau
           until ceremonial cleansing had been performed. The offender
           must bathe in the ocean; the kumu then aspersed him with holy
           water, uttered a prayer, ordered a penalty, an offering to
           the kuahu, and declared the offender clean. This done, he
           was again received into fellowship at the halau.

           The ordinary penalty for a breach of ceremony or an offense
           against sexual morality was the offering of a baked porkling
           with awa. Since the introduction of money the penalty has
           generally been reckoned on a commercial basis; a money fine
           is imposed. The offering of pork and awa is retained as a
           concession to tradition.

[Page 31]


                               CEREMONIES OF GRADUATION

           The _ai-lolo_ rite and ceremony marked the consummation of a
           pupil’s readiness for graduation from the school of the halau
           and his formal entrance into the guild of hula dancers. As
           the time drew near, the kumu tightened the reins of
           discipline, and for a few days before that event no pupil
           might leave the halau save for the most stringent necessity,
           and then only with the head muffled (_pulo’u_) to avoid
           recognition, and he might engage in no conversation whatever
           outside the halau.

           The night preceding the day of ai-lolo was devoted to special
           services of dance and song. Some time after midnight the
           whole company went forth to plunge into the ocean, thus to
           purge themselves of any lurking ceremonial impurity. The
           progress to the ocean and the return they made in complete
           nudity. “Nakedness is the garb of the gods.” On their way to
           and from the bath they must not look back, they must not turn
           to the right hand or to the left.

           The kumu, as the priest, remained at the halau, and as the
           procession returned from the ocean he met it at the door and
           sprinkled each one (_pikai_) with holy water. Then came
           another period of dance and song; and then, having
           cantillated a _pule hoonoa_, to lift the tabu, the kumu went
           forth to his own ceremonial cleansing bath in the sea. During
           his absence his deputy, the _kokua kumu_, took charge of the
           halau. When the kumu reached the door on his return, he made
           himself known by reciting a _mele wehe puka_, the
           conventional password.

           Still another exercise of song and dance, and the wearied
           pupils are glad to seek repose. Some will not even remove the
           short dancing skirts that are girded about them, so eager
           are they to snatch an hour of rest; and some lie down with
           bracelets and anklets yet unclasped.

           At daybreak the kumu rouses the company with the tap of the
           drum. After ablutions, before partaking of their simple
           breakfast, the company stand before the altar and recite a
           tabu-removing prayer, accompanying the cantillation with a
           rhythmic tapping of feet and clapping of hands:

                   _Pule Hoonoa_

                Pupu we’uwe’u e, Laka e!
                O kona we’uwe’u ke ku nei.
[Page 32]       Kaumaha a’e la ia Laka.
                O Laka ke akua pule ikaika.
            5   Ua ku ka maile a Laka a imua;
                Ua lu ka hua[32] o ka maile.
                Noa, noa ia’u, ia Kahaula—
                Papalua noa.
                Noa, a ua noa.
           10   Eli-eli kapu! eli-eli noa!
                Kapu oukou, ke akua!
                Noa makou, ke kanaka´.


                      _Tabu-lifting Prayer_

                Oh wildwood bouquet, oh Laka!
                Hers are the growths that stand here.
                Suppliants we to Laka.
                The prayer to Laka has power;
            5   The maile of Laka stands to the fore.
                The maile vine casts now its seeds.
                Freedom, there’s freedom to me, Kahaula—
                A freedom twofold.
           10   Freedom, aye freedom!
                A tabu profound, a freedom complete.
                Ye gods are still tabu;
                We mortals are free.

           [Footnote 32: _Lu ka hua_. Casts now its seeds. The maile vine
           (pl. IV), one of the goddess’s emblems, casts its seeds,
           meaning that the goddess gives the pupils skill and inspires

           At the much-needed repast to which the company now sit down
           there may be present a gathering of friends and relatives and
           of hula experts, called _olóhe_. Soon the porkling chosen to
           be the _ai-lólo_ offering is brought in—a black suckling
           without spot or blemish. The kumu holds it down while all the
           pupils gather and lay their hands upon his hands; and he
           expounds to them the significance of the ceremony. If they
           consecrate themselves to the work in hand in sincerity and
           with true hearts, memory will be strong and the training, the
           knowledge, and the songs that have been intrusted to the
           memory will stay. If they are heedless, regardless of their
           vows, the songs they have learned will fly away.

           The ceremony is long and impressive; many songs are used.
           Sometimes, it was claimed, the prayers of the kumu at this
           laying on of hands availed to cause the death of the little
           animal. On the completion of the ceremony the offering is
           taken out and made ready for the oven.

           One of the first duties of the day is the dismantling of the
           old kuahu, the shrine, and the construction of another from
           new materials as a residence for the goddess. While night yet
           shadows the earth the attendants and friends of the pupils
[Page 33]  have gone up into the mountains to collect the material for
           the new shrine. The rustic artists, while engaged in this
           loving work of building and weaving the new kuahu, cheer and
           inspire one another with joyful songs vociferous with the
           praise of Laka. The halau also they decorate afresh, strewing
           the floor with clean rushes, until the whole place enthralls
           the senses like a bright and fragrant temple.


           The kumu now grants special dispensation to the pupils to go
           forth that they may make good the results of the neglect of
           the person incident to long confinement in the halau. For
           days, for weeks, perhaps for months, they have not had full
           opportunity to trim hair, nails, or beard, to anoint and
           groom themselves. They use this short absence from the hall
           also to supply themselves with wreaths of fragrant maile,
           crocus-yellow ilima, scarlet-flaming lehua, fern, and what

           At the appointed hour the pupils, wreathed and attired like
           nymphs and dryads, assemble in the halau, sweet with woodsy
           perfumes. At the door they receive aspersion with consecrated

           The ai-lolo offering, cooked to a turn—no part raw, no part
           cracked or scorched—is brought in from the _imu_, its bearer
           sprinkled by the guard at the entrance. The kumu, having
           inspected the roast offering and having declared it
           ceremonially perfect, gives the signal, and the company break
           forth in songs of joy and of adulation to goddess Laka:

                        _Mele Kuau_

                Noho ana Laka I ka ulu wehi-wehi,
                Ku ana iluna i Mo’o-helaia,[33]
                Ohia-Ku[34] ouna o Mauna-loa.[35]
                Aloha mai Kaulana-ula[36] ia’u.
            5   Eia ka ula la, he ula leo,[37]
                He uku, he modai, he kanaenae,
                He alana na’u ia oe.
                E Laka e, e maliu mai;
                E maliu mai oe, i pono au,
           10   A pono au, a pono kaua.

           [Footnote 33: _Mo’o-helaia_. A female deity, a _kupua_, who at
           death became one of the divinities, _au-makua_, of the hula.
           Her name was conferred on the place claimed as her residence,
           on Mauna-loa, island of Molokai.]

           [Footnote 34: _Ohia-Ku_. Full name _ohia-ku-makua_; a variety
           of the ohìa, or lehua (pl. XIII), whose wood was used in
           making temple gods. A rough stem of this tree stood on each
           side near the _hala-pepe_. (See pl. III, also pp. 19–20.)]

           [Footnote 35: _Mauna-loa_. Said to be the mountain of that
           name on Molokai, not that on Hawaii.]

           [Footnote 36: _Kaulana-ula_. Full form _Kaulana-a-ula_; the
           name of a deity belonging to the order, _papa_, of the hula.
           Its meaning is explained in the expression _ula leo_, in the
           next line.]

           [Footnote 37: _Ula leo_. A singing or trilling sound, a
           _tinnitus aurium_, a sign that the deity Kaulanaula was
           making some communication to the one who heard it.

                “By the pricking of my thumbs
                Something wicked this way comes.”]

[Page 34]



                Laka sits in her shady grove,
                Stands on her terrace, at Mo’o-helaia;
                Like the tree of God Ku on Mauna-loa.
                Kaulana-ula trills in my ear;
            5   A whispered suggestion to me,
                Lo, an offering, a payment,
                A eulogy give I to thee.
                O Laka, incline to me!
                Have compassion, let it be well—
           10   Well with me, well with us both.

           There is no stint of prayer-song. While the offering rests on
           the kuahu, the joyful service continues:

                  _Mele Kuahu_

                E Laka, e!
                Pupu we’uwe’u e, Laka e!
                E Laka i ka leo;
                E laka i ka loaa;
            5   E Laka i ka waiwai;
                E Laka i na mea a pau!



                O goddess Laka!
                O wildwood bouquet, O Laka!
                O Laka, queen of the voice!
                O Laka, giver of gifts!
            5   O Laka, giver of bounty!
                O Laka, giver of all things!

           At the conclusion of this loving service of worship and song
           each member of the troupe removes from his head and neck the
           wreaths that had bedecked him, and with them crowns the
           image of the goddess until her altar is heaped with the

           Now comes the pith of the ceremony: the novitiates sit down
           to the feast of ai-lolo, theirs the place of honor, at the
           head of the table, next the kuahu. The _ho’o-pa’a_, acting
           as carver, selects the typical parts—snout, ear-tips, tail,
           feet, portions of the vital organs, especially the brain
           (_lolo_). This last it is which gives name to the ceremony.
           He sets an equal portion before each novitiate. Each one must
           eat all that is set before him. It is a mystical rite, a
           sacrament; as he eats he consciously partakes of the virtue
           of the goddess that is transmitted to himself.
[Page 35]
           Meantime the _olohe_ and friends of the novitiates, inspired
           with the proper enthusiasm, of the occasion, lift their
           voices in joyful cantillations in honor of the goddess,
           accompanied with the clapping of hands.

           The ceremony now reaches a new stage. The kumu lifts the tabu
           by uttering a prayer—always a song—and declares the place
           and the feast free, and the whole assembly sit down to enjoy
           the bounty that is spread up and down the halau. On this
           occasion men and women may eat in common. The only articles
           excluded from this feast are _luau_—a food much like
           spinach, made by cooking the young and delicate taro
           leaf—and the drupe of the _hala_, the pandanus (pl. xviii).

           The company sit down to eat and to drink; presently they rise
           to dance and sing. The kumu leads in a tabu-lifting,
           freedom-giving song and the ceremony of ai-lolo is over. The
           pupils have been graduated from the school of the halau; they
           are now members of the great guild of hula dancers. The time
           has come for them to make their bow to the waiting public
           outside, to bid for the favor of the world. This is to be
           their “little go;” they will spread their wings for a
           greater flight on the morrow.

           The kumu with his big drum, and the musicians, the ho’o-pa’a,
           pass through the door and take their places outside in the
           lanai, where sit the waiting multitude. At the tap of the
           drum the group of waiting olapa plume themselves like fine
           birds eager to show their feathers; and, as they pass out the
           halau door and present themselves to the breathless audience,
           into every pose and motion of their gliding, swaying figures
           they pour a full tide of emotion in studied and unstudied
           effort to captivate the public.

                           DÉBUT OF A HULA DANCER

           The occasion is that of a lifetime; it is their _uniki_,
           their debut. The song chosen must rise to the dignity of the
           occasion. Let us listen to the song that enthralls the
           audience seated in the rushstrown lanai, that we may judge of
           its worthiness.

                 _He Mele-Inoa (no Naihe)_[38]

                Ka nalu nui, a ku ka nalu mai Kona,
                Ka malo a ka mahiehie,[39]
                Ka onaulu-loa,[40] a lele ka’u malo.
[Page 36]       O kakai[41] malo hoaka,[42]
            5   O ka malo kai,[43] malo o ke alii
                E ku, e hume a paa i ka malo.

                E ka’ika’i [44] ka la i ka papa o Halepó;[45]
                A pae o Halepó i ka nalu.
                Ho-e’e i ka nalu mai Kahiki;[46]
           10   He nalu Wakea,[47] nalu ho’ohua.[48]
                Haki opu’u [49] ka nalu, haki kua-pa.[50]

                Ea mai ka makakai [51] he’e-nalu,
                Kai he’e kakala [52] o ka moku,
                Kai-ká o ka nalu nui,
           15   Ka hu’a o ka nalu o Hiki-au.[53]
                Kai he’e-nalu i ke awakea.

                Ku ka puna, ke ko’a i-uka.
                Ka makahá o ka nalu o Kuhihewa.[54]
                Ua o ia,[55] nohá ka papa!
           20   Noná Maui, nauweuwe,
                Nauweuwe, nakelekele.

                Nakele ka ili o ka i he’e-kai.
                Lalilali ole ka ili o ke akamai;
                Kahilihili ke kai a ka he’e-nalu.
           25   Ike’a ka nalu nui o Puna, o Hilo.

           [Footnote 38: Naihe. A man of strong character, but not a
           high chief. He was horn in Kona and resided at Napoopoo. His
           mother was Ululani, his father Keawe-a-heulu, who was a
           celebrated general and strategist under Kamehameha I.]

           [Footnote 39: Mahiehie. A term conferring dignity and

           [Footnote 40: Onaulu-loa. A roller of great length and
           endurance, one that reaches the shore, in contrast to a

           [Footnote 41: _Kalai._ An archaic word meaning forty.]

           [Footnote 42: _Hoaka._ A crescent; the name of the second day
           of the month. The allusion is to the curve (downward) of a
           large number (kakai) of malo when hung on a line, the usual
           way of keeping such articles.]

           [Footnote 43: _Malo kai._ The ocean is sometimes poetically
           termed the _malo_ or _pa-á_ of the naked swimmer, or bather.
           It covers his nakedness.]

           [Footnote 44: _Ka’ika’i._ To lead or to carry; a tropical use
           of the word. The sun is described as leading the board.]

           [Footnote 45: _Hale-pó._ In the opinion of the author it is
           the name of the board. A skilled Hawaiian says it is the name
           given the surf of a place at Napoopoo, in Kona, Hawaii. The
           action is not located there, but in Puna, it seems to the

           [Footnote 46: _Kahiki._ Tahiti, or any foreign country; a term
           of grandiloquence.]

           [Footnote 47: _Wakea._ A mythical name, coming early in
           Hawaiian genealogies; here used in exaggeration to show the
           age of the roller.]

           [Footnote 48: _Ho’ohua._ Applied to a roller, one that rolls
           on and swells higher.]

           [Footnote 49: _Opu’u._ Said of a roller that completes its run
           to shore.]

           [Footnote 50: _Kua-pá._ Said of a roller as above that dies
           at the shore.]

           [Footnote 51: _Maka-kai._ The springing-up of the surf after
           an interval of quiet.]

           [Footnote 52: _Kakála._ Rough, heaped up, one wave overriding
           another, a chop sea.]

           [Footnote 53: _Hiki-au._ Said to be the name of a temple.]

           [Footnote 54: _Kuhihewa._ Full name _Ka-kuhi-hewa_, a
           distinguished king of Oahu.]

           [Footnote 55: _O iu._ Meaning that the board dug its nose
           into the reef or sand.]


                   _A Name-Song, a Eulogy_ (for Naihe)

                The huge roller, roller that surges from Kona,
                Makes loin-cloth fit for a lord;
                Far-reaching swell, my malo streams in the wind;
                Shape the crescent malo to the loins—
            5   The loin-cloth the sea, cloth for king’s girding.
                Stand, gird fast the loin-cloth!

[Page 37]       Let the sun guide the board Halepó,
                Till Halepó lifts on the swell.
                It mounts the swell that rolls from Kahiki,
           10   From Wakea’s age enrolling.
                The roller plumes and ruffles its crest.

                Here comes the champion surf-man,
                While wave-ridden wave beats the island,
                A fringe of mountain-high waves.
           15   Spume lashes the Hiki-an altar—A
                surf this to ride at noontide.

                The coral, horned coral, it sweeps far ashore.
                We gaze at the surf of Ka-kuhi-hewa.
                The surf-board snags, is shivered;
           20   Maui splits with a crash,
                Trembles, dissolves into slime.

                Glossy the skin of the surf-man;
                Undrenched the skin of the expert;
           25   Wave-feathers fan the wave-rider.
                You’ve seen the grand surf of Puna, of Hilo.

           This spirited song, while not a full description of a
           surf-riding scene, gives a vivid picture of that noble sport.
           The last nine verses have been omitted, as they add neither
           to the action nor to the interest.

           It seems surprising that the accident spoken of in line 19
           should be mentioned; for it is in glaring opposition to the
           canons that were usually observed in the composition of a
           _mele-inoa._ In the construction of a eulogy the Hawaiians
           were not only punctiliously careful to avoid mention of
           anything susceptible of sinister interpretation, but they
           were superstitiously sensitive to any such unintentional
           happening. As already mentioned (p. 27), they believed that
           the fate compelling power of a word of ill-omen was
           inevitable. If it did not result in the death of the one
           eulogized, retributive justice turned the evil influence back
           on him who uttered it.

[Page 38]


           There prevailed among the practitioners of the hula from one
           end of the group to the other a mutual understanding,
           amounting almost to a sort of freemasonry, which gave to any
           member of the guild the right of free entrance at all times
           to the hall, or halau, where a performance was under way.
           Admission was conditioned, however, on the utterance of a
           password at the door. A snatch of song, an oli, denominated
           _mele kahea_, or _mele wehe puka_, was chanted, which, on
           being recognized by those within, was answered in the same
           language of hyperbole, and the door was opened.

           The verbal accuracy of any mele kahea that may be adduced is
           at the present day one of the vexed questions among hula
           authorities, each hula-master being inclined to maintain that
           the version given by another is incorrect. This remark
           applies, though in smaller measure, to the whole body of
           mele, pule, and oli that makes up the songs and liturgy of
           the hula as well as to the traditions that guided the
           maestro, or kumu-hula, in the training of his company. The
           reasons for these differences of opinion and of test, now
           that there is to be a written text, are explained by the
           following facts: The devotees and practitioners of the hula
           were divided into groups that were separated from one another
           by wide intervals of sea and land. They belonged quite likely
           to more than one cult, for indeed there were many gods and
           _au-makua_ to whom they sacrificed and offered prayers. The
           passwords adopted by one generation or by the group of
           practitioners on one island might suffer verbal changes in
           transmission to a later generation or to a remote island.

           Again, it should be remembered that the entire body of
           material forming the repertory of the hula—pule, mele, and
           oli—was intrusted to the keeping of the memory, without the
           aid of letters or, so far as known, of any mnemonic device;
           and the human mind, even under the most athletic discipline,
           is at best an imperfect conservator of literary form. The
           result was what might be expected: as the imagination and
           emotions of the minstrel warmed under the inspiration of his
           trust, glosses and amendments crept in. These, however,
           caused but slight variations in the text. The substance
           remains substantially the same.

           After carefully weighing the matter, the author can not avoid
           the conclusion that jealousy had much to do with the slight
           differences now manifest, that one version is as
[Page 39]  authoritative as another, and that it would be well for each
           kumu-hula to have kept in mind the wise adage that shines
           among the sayings of his nation: _Aohe pau ka ike i kau halau
           _[56]—“Think not that all of wisdom resides in you

           [Footnote 56: Sophocles (Antigone, 705) had said the same
           thing:[Greek: me nun en ethos pounon en sautô phorei ôs
           phes su, kouden allo, tout’ orphôs echein]—“Don’t get this
           idea fixed in your head, that what you say, and nothing else,
           is right.”]

           [Footnote 57: _Halau._ As previously explained, in this
           connection _halau_ has a meaning similar to our word
           “school,” or “academy,” a place where some art was taught, as
           wrestling, boxing, or the hula.]

                         _Mele Kahea_

                Li’u-li’u aloha ia’u,
                Ka uka o Koholá-lele,
                Ka nahele mauka o Ka-papala [58] la.
                Komo, e komo aku hoi au maloko.
            5   Mai ho’ohewahewa mai oe ia’u; oau no ia,
                Ke ka-nae-nae a ka mea hele,
                    He leo, e-e,
                A he leo wale no, e-e!
                Eia ka pu’u nui owaho nei la,
           10   He ua, lie ino, he anu, he ko’e-ko’e.
                E ku’u aloha, e,
                Maloko aku au.



                Long, long have I tarried with love
                In the uplands of Koholá-lele,
                The wildwood above Ka-papala.
                To enter, permit me to enter, I pray;
            5   Refuse me not recognition; I am he,
                A traveler offering mead of praise,
                    Just a voice,
                Only a human voice.
                Oh, what I suffer out here,
           10   Rain, storm, cold, and wet.
                O sweetheart of mine,
                Let me come in to you.

           [Footnote 58: _Ka-papala._ A verdant region on the
           southeastern flank of Mauna-Loa.]

           Hear now the answer chanted by voices from within:

                               _Mele Komo_

                Aloha na hale o makou i maka-maka ole,
                Ke alanui hele mauka o Pu’u-kahea la, e-e!
                E Kahea aku ka pono e komo mai oe iloko nei.
                Eia ka pu’u nui o waho nei, he anu.

[Page 40]


                            _Song of Welcome_

                What love to our cottage-homes, now vacant,
                As one climbs the mount of Entreaty!
                    We call,
                We voice the welcome, invite you to enter.
                The hill of Affliction out there is the cold.

           Another fragment that was sometimes used as a password is the
           following bit of song taken from the story of Hiiaka, sister
           of Pele. She is journeying with the beautiful Hopoe to fetch
           prince Lohiau to the court of Pele. They have come by a steep
           and narrow path to the brink of the Wai-lua river, Kauai, at
           this point spanned by a single plank. But the bridge is gone,
           removed by an ill-tempered naiad (witch) said to have come
           from Kahiki, whose name, Wai-lua, is the same as that of the
           stream. Hiiaka calls out, demanding that the plank be
           restored to its place. Wai-lua does not recognize the deity
           in Hiiaka and, sullen, makes no response. At this the goddess
           puts forth her strength, and Wai-lua, stripped of her power
           and reduced to her true station, that of a _mo’o_, a reptile,
           seeks refuge in the caverns beneath the river. Hiiaka betters
           the condition of the crossing by sowing it with stepping
           stones. The stones remain in evidence to this day.

                         _Mele Kahea_

                Kunihi ka mauna i ka la’i e,
                O Wai-ale-ale[59] la i Wai-lua,
                Huki a’e la i ka lani
                Ka papa au-wai o ka Wai-kini;
            5   Alai ia a’e la e Nou-nou,
                Nalo ka Ipu-ha’a,
                Ka laula mauka o Kapa’a, e!
                Mai pa’a i ka leo!
                He ole ka hea mai, e!



                Steep stands the mountain in calm,
                Profile of Wai-ale-ale at Wai-lua.
                Gone the stream-spanning plank of Wai-kini,
                Filched away by Nou-nou;
            5   Shut off the view of the hill Ipu-ha’a,
                And the upland expanse of Ka-pa’a.
                Give voice and make answer.
                Dead silence—no voice in reply.

           In later, in historic times, this visitor, whom we have kept
           long waiting at the door, might have voiced his appeal in the
           passionate words of this comparatively modern song:

           [Footnote 59: _Wai-ale-ale_ (Leaping-water). The central
           mountain-mass of Kauai.]
[Page 41]

                          _Mele Kahea_[60]

                Ka uka holo-kia ahi-manu o La’a,[61]
                I po-ele i ka uahi, noe ka nahele,
                Nohe-nohea i ka makani luhau-pua.
                He pua oni ke kanaka—
            5   He mea laha ole la oe.
                Mai kaua e hea nei;
                E hea i ke kanaka e komo maloko,
                E hanai ai a hewa[62] ka wa’ha.
                Eia no ka uku la, o ka wa’a.[63]



                In the uplands, the darting flame-bird of La’a,
                While smoke and mist blur the woodland,
                Is keen for the breath of frost-bitten flowers.
                    A fickle flower is man—
            5   A trick this not native to you.
                Come thou with her who is calling to thee;
                A call to the man to come in
                And eat till the mouth is awry.
                    Lo, this the reward—the canoe.

           [Footnote 60: This utterance of passion is said to have been,
           the composition of the Princess-Kamamalu, as an address to
           Prince William Lunalilo, to whom she was at one time
           affianced and would have married, but that King Liholiho
           (Kamehameha IV) would not allow the marriage. Thereby hangs a

           [Footnote 61: _La’a_. The region in Hawaii now known as Ola’a
           was originally called La’a. The particle _o_ has become fused
           with the word.]

           [Footnote 62: _Hewa ka waha_. This expression, here tortured
           into “(till) the mouth awry,” is difficult of translation. A
           skilled Hawaiian scholar suggests, it may mean to change one
           from, an enemy to a friend by stopping his mouth with food.]

           [Footnote 63: _Wa’a_. Literally a canoe. This is a euphemism
           for the human body, a gift often too freely granted. It will
           be noted that in the answering mele komo, the song of
           admission, the reward promised is more modestly
           measured—“Simply the voice.”]

            The answer to this appeal for admission was in these words:

                           _Mele Komo_

                E hea i ke kanaka e komo maloko,
                E hanai ai a hewa waha;
                Eia no ka uku la, o ka leo,
                A he leo wale no, e!



                Call to the man to come in,
                And eat till the mouth is estopt;
                And this the reward, the voice,
                Simply the voice.

           The cantillation of the _mele komo_: in answer to the
           visitor’s petition, meant not only the opening to him of the
           halau door, but also his welcome to the life of the halau as
           a heart-guest of honor, trebly welcome as the bringer of
           fresh tidings from the outside world.
[Page 42]


           The first duty of a visitor on being admitted to the halau
           while the tabu was on—that is, during the conduct of a
           regular hula—was to do reverence at the kuahu. The
           obligations of religion took precedence of all social
           etiquette. He reverently approaches the altar, to which all
           eyes are turned, and with outstretched hands pours out a
           supplication that breathes the aroma of ancient prayer:

                  _Pule Kuahu_ (no Laka)

                O Laka oe,
                O ke akua i ke a’a-lii[64] nui.
                E Laka mai uka!
                E Laka mai kai!
            5   O hoo-ulu[65] o Lono,
                O ka ilio nana e haehae ke aha,
                O ka ie-ie ku i ka wao,
                O ka maile hihi i ka nahele,
                O ka lau ki-ele[66] ula o ke akua,
            10  O na ku’i[67] o Hauoli,
                O Ha’i-ka-malama,[68]
                Wahine o Kina’u.[69]
                Kapo ula[70] o Kina’u.
                O Laka oe,
            15  O ke akua i ke kuahu nei la, e!
                E ho’i, e ho’i a nolao i kou kuahu.
                Hoo-ulu ia!

           [Footnote 64: _A’a-lii_. A deep-rooted tree, sacred to Laka
           or to Kapo.]

           [Footnote 65: Hoo-ulu. Literally to make grow; secondarily,
           to inspire, to prosper, to bring good luck. This is the
           meaning most in mind in modern times, since the hula has
           become a commercial venture.]

           [Footnote 66: _Ki-ele_. A flowering plant native to the
           Hawaiian woods, also cultivated, sacred to Laka, and perhaps
           to Kapo. The leaves are said to be pointed and curved like
           the beak of the bird _i-iwi_, and the flower has the gorgeous
           yellow-red color of that bird.]

           [Footnote 67: It has been proposed to amend this verse by
           substituting _akua_, for _ku’i_, thus making the idea the
           gods of the hula.]

           [Footnote 68: _Haí-ka-malama_. An epithet applied to Laka.]

           [Footnote 69: _Kina’u_. Said to mean Hiiaka, the sister of

           [Footnote 70: _Kapo ula_. Red, _ula_, was the favorite color
           of Kapo. The _kahuna anaana_, high priests of sorcery, of the
           black art, and of murder, to whom Kapo was at times
           procuress, made themselves known as such by the display of a
           red flag and the wearing of a red malo.]


                      _Altar-Prayer_ (to Laka)

                Thou art Laka,
                God of the deep-rooted a’a-lii.
                O Laka from the mountains,
                O Laka from the ocean!
[Page 43]   5   Let Lono bless the service,
                Shutting the mouth of the dog,
                That breaks the charm with his barking.
                Bring the i-e that grows in the wilds,
                The maile that twines in the thicket,
           10   Red-beaked kiele, leaf of the goddess,
                The joyous pulse of the dance
                In honor of Ha’i-ka-malama,
                Friend of Kina’u,
                Red-robed friend of Kina’u.
           15   Thou art Laka,
                God of this altar here.
                Return, return and reside at your altar!
                Bring it good luck!

           A single prayer may not suffice as the offering at Laka’s
           altar. His repertory is full; the visitor begins anew, this
           time on a different tack:

                   _Pule Kuahu_ (no Laka)

                Eia ke kuko, ka li’a;
                I ka manawa he hiamoe ko’u,
                Hoala ana oe,
                  O oe o Halau-lani,
            5     O Hoa-lani,
                  O Puoho-lani,
                Me he manu e hea ana i ka maha lehua
                Ku moho kiekie la i-uka.
                I-uka ho’i au me Laka
           10   A Lea,[71] a Wahie-loa,[72], i ka nahelehele;
                He hoa kaana ia no’u,
                No kela kuahiwi, kualono hoi.
                  E Laka, e Laka, e!
                E maliu mai!
           15   A maliu mai oe pono au,
                A a’e mai oe pono au!


                    _Altar-Prayer_ (to Laka)

                This my wish, my burning desire,
                That in the season of slumber
                Thy spirit my soul may inspire,
            5     Heaven-guest,
                Bird from covert calling,
                Where forest champions stand.
                There roamed I too with Laka,
[Page 44]  10   Of Lea and Loa a wilderness-child;
                On ridge, in forest boon companion she
                To the heart that throbbed in me.
                  O Laka, O Laka,
                Hark to my call!
           15   You approach, it is well;
                You possess me, I am blest!

           [Footnote 71: _Lea_. The same as Laia, or probably Haumea.]

           [Footnote 72: _Wahie loa_. This must be a mistake. Laka the
           son of Wahie-loa was a great voyager. His canoe
           (_kau-méli-éli_) was built for him by the gods. In it he
           sailed to the South to rescue his father’s bones from the
           witch who had murdered him. This Laka had his home at
           Kipahulu, Maui, and is not to be confounded with Laka,
           goddess of the hula.]

           In the translation of this pule the author has found it
           necessary to depart from the verse arrangement that obtains
           in the Hawaiian text.

           The religious services of the halau, though inspired by one
           motive, were not tied to a single ritual or to one set of
           prayers. Prayer marked the beginning and the ending of every
           play—that is, of every dance—and of every important event
           in the programme of the halau; but there were many prayers
           from which the priest might select. After the prayer
           specially addressed to Laka the visitor might use a petition
           of more general scope. Such is the one now to be given:

           He Pule Kuahu (ia Kane ame Kapo); _a he Pule Hoolei_

                Kane, hiki a’e, he maláma [73] la luna;
                Ha’aha’a, he maláma ia lalo;
                Oni-oni,[74] he málama ia ka’u;
                He wahine [75] lei, málama ia Kapo;
            5   E Kapo nui, hala-hala [76] a i’a;
                E Kapo nui, hala-hala [77] a mea,
                Ka alihi [78] luna, ka alihi lalo;
                E ka poha-kú.[79]
                Noho ana Kapo i ka ulu wehi-wehi;
           10   Ku ana i Moo-helaia,[80]
                Ka ohi’a-Ku iluna o Mauna-loa.
                Aloha mai Kaulana-a-ula [81] ia’u;
                Eia ka ula la, he ula leo,[82]
                He uku, he mohai, he alana,
[Page 45]  15   He kanaenae na’u ia oe, e Kapo ku-lani.
                E moe hauna-ike, e hea au, e o mai oe.
                Aia la na lehua o Kaana[83]
                Ke kui ia mai la e na wahine a lawa
                I lei no Kapo—
           20   O Kapo, alii nui no ia moku,
                Ki’e-ki’e, ha’a-ha’a;
                Ka la o ka ike e ike aku ai:
                He ike kumu, he ike lono;
                He ike pu-awa [84] hiwa,
           25   He ike a ke Akua, e!
                E Kapo, ho’i!
                E ho’i a noho i kou kuahu.
                Ho’ulu ia!
                Eia ka wai,[85] la,
           30   He wai e ola.
                E ola nou, e!

           [Footnote 73: _Maláma_. Accented on the penult, as here, the
           word means to enlighten or a light (same in second verse). In
           the third and fourth verses the accent is changed to the
           first syllable, and the word here means to preserve, to
           foster. These words furnish an example of poetical

           [Footnote 74: _Onioni._ To squirm, to dodge, to move. The
           meaning here seems to be to move with delight.]

           [Footnote 75: _Wahine lei._ A reference to _Laka_, the child
           of Kapo, who was symbolized by a block of wood on the altar.
           (See p. 23.)]

           [Footnote 76: _Hala-hala a i’a._ Said to be a certain kind of
           fish that was ornamented about its tailend with a band of
           bright color; therefore an object of admiration and desire.]

           [Footnote 77: _Hala-Hala a mea._ The ending _mea_ is perhaps
           taken from the last half of the proper name _Hau-mea_ who was
           Kapo’s mother. It belongs to the land, in contrast to the
           sea, and seems to be intended to intensify and extend the
           meaning of the term previously used. The passage is
           difficult. Expert Hawaiians profess their inability to fathom
           its meaning.]

           [Footnote 78: _Alihi luna._ The line or “stretching cord,”
           that runs the length of a net at its top, the _a lalo_ being
           the corresponding line at the bottom of the net. The exact
           significance of this language complimentary to Kapo can not
           be phrased compactly.]

           [Footnote 79: _Poha-kú._ The line that runs up and down at the
           end of a long net, by which it may be anchored.]

           [Footnote 80: _Moo-helaia._ See note a, p. 33.]

           [Footnote 81: _Kaulana-a-ula._ See note d, p, 33.]

           [Footnote 82: _Ula leo._ See note e, p. 33.]

           [Footnote 83: _Kaana._ A place on Mauna-loa, Molokai, where
           the lehua greatly flourished. The body of Kapo, it is said,
           now lies there in appearance a rock. The same claim is made
           for a rock at Wailua, Hana, Maui.]

           [Footnote 84: _Pu-awa hiwa (hiwa_, black). A kind of strong
           awa. The gentle exhilaration, as well as the deep sleep, of
           awa were benefits ascribed to the gods. Awa was an essential
           to most complete sacrifices.]

           [Footnote 85: _Wai._ Literally water, refers to the bowl of
           awa, replenished each day, which set on the altar of the


           Verses 9 to 15, inclusive, are almost identical in form with
           the first seven verses in the Mele Kuahu addressed to Laka,
           given on page 33.


           An _Altar-Prayer_ (to Kane and Kapo): _also a Garland-Prayer,
           used while decorating the altar_

                Now, Kane, approach, illumine the altar;
                Stoop, and enlighten mortals below;
                Rejoice in the gifts I have brought.
                Wreathed goddess fostered by Kapo—
            5   Hail Kapo, of beauty resplendent!
                Great Kapo, of sea and land,
                The topmost stay of the net,
                Its lower stay and anchoring line.
                Kapo sits in her darksome covert;
           10   On the terrace, at Mo’o-he-laia,
                Stands the god-tree of Ku, on Mauna-loa.
                God Kaulana-ula twigs now mine ear,
                His whispered suggestion to me is
                This payment, sacrifice, offering,
           15   Tribute of praise to thee, O Kapo divine.
                Inspiring spirit in sleep, answer my call.
                Behold, of lehua bloom of Kaana
                The women are stringing enough
                To enwreath goddess Kapo;
           20   Kapo, great queen of that island,
                Of the high and the low.
                The day of revealing shall see what it sees:
[Page 46]       A seeing of facts, a sifting of rumors,
                An insight won by the black sacred awa,
           25   A vision like that of a god!
                O Kapo, return!
                Return, and abide in your altar!
                Make it fruitful!
                Lo, here is the water,
           30   The water of life!
                Hail, now, to thee!

           The little god-folk, whom the ancients called Kini
           Akua—myriads of gods—and who made the wildwoods and
           wilderness their playground, must also be placated. They were
           a lawless set of imps; the elfins, brownies, and kobolds of
           our fairy world were not “up to them” in wanton deviltry. If
           there is to be any luck in the house, it can only be when
           they are dissuaded from outbreaking mischief.

           The pule next given is a polite invitation to these little
           brown men of the woods to honor the occasion with their
           presence and to bring good luck at their coming. It is such a
           prayer as the visitor might choose to repeat at this time, or
           it might be used on other occasions, as at the consecration
           of the kuahu:

                _He Pule Kuahu_ (no Kini Akua)

                E ulu, e ulu, Kini o ke Akua!
                Ulu Kane me Kanaloa!
                Ulu Ohi’a-lau-koa, me ka Ie-ie!
                A’e mai a noho i kou kuahu!
            5   Eia ka wai la, he wai e ola.
                E ola no, e-e!


                _An Altar-Prayer_ (to the Kini Akua)

                Gather, oh gather, ye hosts of godlings!
                Come Kane with Kanaloa!
                Come leafy Ohi’a and I-e!
                Possess me and dwell in your altar!
            5   Here’s water, water of life!
                Life, give us life!

           The visitor, having satisfied his sense of what the occasion
           demands, changes his tone from that of cantillation to
           ordinary speech, and concludes his worship with a petition
           conceived in the spirit of the following prayer:

           E ola ia’u, i ka malihini; a pela hoi na kamaaina, ke kumu,
           na haumana, ia oe, e Laka. E Laka ia Pohaku i ka wawae. E
           Laka i ke kupe’e. E Laka ia Luukia i ka pa-u; e Laka i ke
           kuhi; e Laka i ka leo; e Laka i ka lei. E Laka i ke ku ana
           imua o ke anaina.
[Page 47]


           Thy blessing, O Laka, on me the stranger, and on the
           residents, teacher and pupils. O Laka, give grace to the feet
           of Pohaku; and to her bracelets and anklets; comeliness to
           the figure and skirt of Luukia. To (each one) give gesture
           and voice. O Laka, make beautiful the lei; inspire the
           dancers when they stand before the assembly.

           At the close of this service of song and prayer the visitor
           will turn from the kuahu and exchange salutations and
           greetings with his friends in the halau.

           The song-prayer “Now, Kane, approach, illumine the altar” (p.
           45) calls for remark. It brings up again the question,
           previously discussed, whether there were not two distinct
           cults of worshipers, the one devoted to Laka, the other to
           Kapo. The following facts will throw light on the question.
           On either side of the approach to the altar stood,
           sentinel-like, a tall stem of hala-pepe, a graceful, slender
           column, its head of green sword-leaves and scarlet drupes
           making a beautiful picture. (See p. 24.) These are said to
           have been the special emblems of the goddess Kapo.

           The following account of a conversation the author had with
           an old woman, whose youthful days were spent as a hula
           dancer, will also help to disentangle the subject and explain
           the relation of Kapo to the hula:

           “Will you not recite again the prayer you just now uttered,
           and slowly, that it may be written down?” the author asked of
           her. “Many prayers for the kuahu have been collected, but
           this one differs from them all.”

           “We Hawaiians,” she answered, “have been taught that these
           matters are sacred (_kapu_) and must not be bandied about
           from mouth to mouth.”

           “Aye, but the time of the tabus has passed. Then, too, in a
           sense having been initiated into hula matters, there can be
           no impropriety in my dealing with them in a kindly spirit.”

           “No harm, of course, will come to you, a _haole_ (foreigner).
           The question is how it will affect us.”

           “Tell me, were there two different classes of worshipers, one
           class devoted to the worship of Laka and another class
           devoted to the worship of Kapo?”

           “No,” she answered, “Kapo and Laka were one in spirit, though
           their names were two.”

           “Haumea was the mother of Kapo. Who was her father?”

           “Yes, Haumea was the mother, and Kua-ha-ilo [86] was the

           “How about Laka?”

           [Footnote 86: _Kua-ha-ilo._ A god of the _kahuna anaana;_
           meaning literally to breed maggots in the back.]
[Page 48]
           “Laka was the daughter of Kapo. Yet as a patron, of the hula
           Laka stands first; she was worshiped at an earlier date than
           Kapo; but they are really one.”

           Further questioning brought out the explanation that Laka was
           not begotten in ordinary generation; she was a sort of
           emanation from Kapo. It was as if the goddess should sneeze
           and a deity should issue with the breath from her nostrils;
           or should wink, and thereby beget spiritual offspring from
           the eye, or as if a spirit should issue forth at some
           movement of the ear or mouth.

           When the old woman’s scruples had been laid to rest, she
           repeated slowly for the author’s benefit the pule given on
           pages 45 and 46, “Now, Kane, approach,” * * * of which the
           first eight lines and much of the last part, to him, were

[Page 49]

                      VIII.—COSTUME OF THE HULA DANCER

           The costume of the hula dancer was much the same for both
           sexes, its chief article a simple short skirt about the
           waist, the pa-ú. (PL I.)

           When the time has come for a dance, the halau becomes one
           common dressing room. At a signal from the kumu the work
           begins. The putting on of each article of costume is
           accompanied by a special song.

           First come the _ku-pe’e_, anklets of whale teeth, bone,
           shell-work, dog-teeth, fiber-stuffs, and what not. While all
           stoop in unison they chant the song of the anklet:

                             _Mele Ku-pe’e_

                Aala kupukupu[87] ka uka o Kane-hoa.[88]
                E ho-a![89]
                Hoa na lima o ka makani, he Wai-kaloa.[90]
                He Wai-kaloa ka makani anu Lihue.
            5   Alina[91] lehua i kau ka opua—
                Ku’u pua,
                Ku’u pua i’ini e ku-i a lei.
                Ina ia oe ke lei ’a mai la.



                Fragrant the grasses of high Kane-hoa.
                Bind on the anklets, bind!
                Bind with finger deft as the wind
                That cools the air of this bower.
            5   Lehua bloom pales at my flower,
                O sweetheart of mine,
                Bud that I’d pluck and wear in my wreath,
                If thou wert but a flower!

           [Footnote 87: _Kupukupu_. Said to be a fragrant grass.]

           [Footnote 88: _Kane-hoa_. Said to be a hill at Kaupo, Maui.
           Another person says it is a hill at Lihue, on Oahu. The same
           name is often repeated.]

           [Footnote 89: _Ho-a_. To bind. An instance of word-repetition,
           common in Hawaiian poetry.]

           [Footnote 90: _Wai-kaloa_. A cool wind that Wows at Lihue,

           [Footnote 91: _Alina_. A scar, or other mark of disfigurement,
           a moral blemish. In ancient times lovers inflicted injuries
           on themselves to prove devotion.]

           The short skirt, _pa-u_, was the most important piece of
           attire worn by the Hawaiian female. As an article of daily
           wear it represented many stages of evolution beyond the
           primitive fig-leaf, being fabricated from a great variety of
[Page 50]  materials furnished by the garden of nature. In its simplest
           terms the pa-ú was a mere fringe of vegetable fibers. When
           placed as the shield of modesty about the loins of a woman of
           rank, or when used as the full-dress costume of a dancing
           girl on a ceremonious occasion, it took on more elaborate
           forms, and was frequently of _tapa_, a fabric the finest
           specimens of which would not have shamed the wardrobe of an

           In the costuming of the hula girl the same variety obtained
           as in the dress of a woman of rank. Sometimes her pa-ú would
           be only a close-set fringe of ribbons stripped from the bark
           of the hibiscus (_hau_), the _ti_ leaf or banana fiber, or a
           fine rush, strung upon a thong to encircle the waist. In its
           most elaborate and formal style the pa-ú consisted of a strip
           of fine tapa several yards long and of width to reach nearly
           to the knees. It was often delicately tinted or printed, as
           to its outer part, with stamped figures. The part of the tapa
           skirt thus printed, like the outer, decorative one in a set
           of tapa bed-sheets, was termed the _kilohana_.

           The pa-ú worn by the danseuse, when of tapa, was often of
           such volume as to balloon like the skirt of a coryphée. To
           put it on was quite an art, and on that account, if not on
           the score of modesty, a portion of the halau was screened
           off and devoted to the use of the females as a dressing room,
           being known as the _unu-lau-koa_, and to this place they
           repaired as soon as the kumu gave the signal for dressing.

           The hula pa-ú of the women was worn in addition to that of
           daily life; the hula pa-ú of the men, a less pretentious
           affair, was worn outside the malo, and in addition to it.

           The method of girding on the pa-ú was peculiar. Beginning at
           the right hip—some say the left—a free end was allowed to
           hang quite to the knee; then, passing across the back,
           rounding the left hip, and returning by way of the abdomen to
           the starting point, another circuit of the waist was
           accomplished; and, a reverse being made, the garment was
           secured by passing the bight of the tapa beneath the hanging
           folds of the pa-ú from below upward until it slightly
           protruded above the border of the garment at the waist. This
           second end was thus brought to hang down the hip alongside of
           the first free end; an arrangement that produced a most
           decorative effect.

           The Hawaiians, in their fondness for giving personal names to
           inanimate objects, named the two free ends (_apua_) of the
           pa-ú respectively _Ku-kápu-úla-ka-láni_ and _Léle-a-mahu’i_.

           According to another method, which was simpler and more
           commonly employed, the piece was folded sidewise and, being
           gathered into pleats, a cord was inserted the length of the
           fold. The cord was passed about the waist, knotted at the
           hip, and thus held the garment secure.
[Page 51]
           While the girls are making their simple toilet and donning
           their unique, but scanty, costume, the kumu, aided by others,
           soothes the impatience of the audience and stimulates their
           imagination by cantillating a mele that sets forth in
           grandiloquent imagery the praise of the pa-ú.

                            _Oli Pa-ú_

                Kakua pa-ú, ahu na kikepa![92]
                I ka pa-ú noenoe i hooluu’a,
                I hookakua ia a paa iluna o ka imu.[93]
                Ku ka nu’a[94] o ka pali o ka wai kapu,
            5   He kuina[95] pa-ú pali[96] no Kupe-hau,
                I holo a paa ia, paa e Hono-kane.[97]

                Malama o lilo i ka pa-ú.
                Holo ilio la ke ala ka Manú[98] i na pali;
                Pali ku kahakó liaka a-i,
           10   I ke keiki pa-ú pali a Kau-kini,[99]
                I hoonu’anu’a iluna o ka Auwana.[100]

[Page 52]       Akahi ke ana, ka luhi i ka pa-ú:
                Ka ho-oio i ke kapa-wai,
                I na kikepa wai o Apua,[101]
           15   I hopu ’a i ka ua noe holo poo-poo,
                Me he pa-ú elehiwa wale i na pali.

                Ohiohi ka pali, ki ka liko o ka lama,
                Mama ula[102] ia ka malua ula,
                I hopu a omau ia e ka maino.
           20   I[103] ka malo o Umi ku huná mai.
                Ike’a ai na maawe wai oloná,[104]
                E makili ia nei i Wahilau.[105]
                Holo ke oloná, paa ke kapa.

                Hu’a lepo ole ka pa-ú;
           25   Nani ka o-iwi ma ka maka kilo-hana.[106]
                Makalii ka ohe,[107] paa ke kapa.

                Opua ke ahi i na pali,
                I hookau kalena ia e ka makani,
                I kaomi pohaku ia i Wai-manu,
           30   I na alá[108] ki-óla-óla;
                I na alá, i alá lele
                Ia Kane-poha-ka’a.[109]

                Paa ia Wai-manu,[110] o-oki Wai-pi’o;
                Lalau o Ha’i i ka ohe,
                Ia Koa’e-kea,[111]     35
                I kauhihi ia ia ohe laulii, ia ohe.
                Oki’a a moku, mo’ ke kini,[112]
[Page 53]       Mo’ ke kihi, ka maiáma ka Hoaka,[113]
                I apahu ia a poe,
           40   O awili[114] o Malu-ó.

                He pola ia no ka pa-ú;
                E hii ana e Ka-holo-kua-iwa,
                Ke amo la e Pa-wili-wlli
                I ka pa-ú poo kau-poku—[115]
           45   Kau poku a hana ke ao,
                Kau iluna o Hala’a-wili,
                I owili hana haawe.

                Ku-ka’a, olo-ka’a wahie;
                Ka’a ka opeope, ula ka pali;[116]
           50   Uwá, kamalii, hookani ka pihe,
                Hookani ka a’o,[117] a hana pilo ka leo,
                I ka mahalo i ka pa-ú,
                I ka pa-ú wai-lehua a Hi’i-lawe[118] iluna,
                Pi’o anuenue a ka ua e ua nei.

           [Footnote 92: _Kikepa_. The bias, the one-sided slant given
           the pa-ú by tucking it in at one side, as previously

           [Footnote 93: _Imu_. An oven; an allusion to the heat and
           passion of the part covered by the pa-ú.]

           [Footnote 94: _Hu’a_. Foam; figurative of the fringe at the
           border of the pa-ú.]

           [Footnote 95: _Kuina_. A term applied to the five sheets that
           were stitched together (_kui_) to make a set of bed-clothes.
           Five turns also, it is said, complete a pa-ú.]

           [Footnote 96: _Pali no Kupe-Hau_. Throughout the poem the pa-ú
           is compared to a _pali_, a mountain wall. Kupe-hau is a
           precipitous part of Wai-pi’o valley.]

           [Footnote 97: _Hono-kane_. A valley near Wai-pi’o. Here it is
           personified and said to do the work on the pa-ú.]

           [Footnote 98: _Manú_. A proper name given to this pa-ú.]

           [Footnote 99: _Kau-kini_. The name of a hill back of
           Lahaina-luna, the traditional residence of a _kahuna_ named
           _Lua-hoo-moe_, whose two sons were celebrated for their manly
           beauty. Ole-pau, the king of the island Maui, ordered his
           retainer, Lua-hoo-moe, to fetch for his eating some young
           _u-a’u_, a sea-bird that nests and rears its young in the
           mountains. These young birds are esteemed a delicacy. The
           kahuna, who was a bird-hunter, truthfully told the king that
           it was not the season for the young birds; the parent birds
           were haunting the ocean. At this some of the king’s boon
           companions, moved by ill-will, charged the king’s mountain
           retainer with suppressing the truth, and in proof they
           brought some tough old birds caught at sea and had them
           served for the king’s table. Thereupon the king, not
           discovering the fraud, ordered that Lua-hoo-moe should be put
           to death by fire. The following verses were communicated to
           the author as apropos of Kau-kini, evidently the name of a

                Ike ia Kau-kini, he lawaia manu.
                He upena ku’u i ka noe i Poha-kahi,
                Ua hoopulu ia i ka ohu ka kikepa;
                Ke na’i la i ka luna a Kea-auwana;
                Ka uahi i ke ka-peku e hei ai ka manu o Pu-o-alii.
                O ke alii wale no ka’u i makemake
                Ali’a la, ha’o, e!


                Behold Kau-kini, a fisher of birds;
                Net spread in the mist of Poha-kahi,
                That is soaked by the sidling fog.
                It strives on the crest of Koa-auwana.
                Smoke traps the birds of Pu-o-alii.
                It’s only the king that I wish:
                But stay now—I doubt.
           [Footnote 100: _Auwana_. Said to be an eminence on the flank of
           Haleakala, back of Ulupalakua.]

           [Footnote 101: _Apua_. A place on Hawaii, on Maui, on Oahu, on
           Kauai, and on Molokai.]

           [Footnote 102: _Mama ula ia ka malua ula_. The malua-ula was a
           variety of tapa that was stained with _hili kukui_ (the
           root-bark of the kukui tree). The ripe kukui nut was chewed
           into a paste and mingled with this stain. _Mama ula_ refers
           to this chewing. The _malua ula_ is mentioned as a foil to
           the pa-ú, being a cheap tapa.]

           [Footnote 103: _I_. A contracted form of _ti_ or _ki_, the
           plant or, as in this case, the leaf of the _ti_, the Dracæna
           (pl. V). Liloa, the father Of Umi, used it to cover himself
           after his amour with the mother of Umi, having given his malo
           in pledge to the woman. Umi may have used this same leaf as a
           substitute for the malo while in the wilderness of
           Laupahoehoe, hiding away from his brother, King Hakau.]

           [Footnote 104: _Oloná_. A strong vegetable fiber sometimes
           added to tapa to give it strength. The fibers of olona in
           the fabric of the pa-ú are compared to the runnels and
           brooklets of _Waihilau_.]

           [Footnote 105: _Wai-hilau_. Name applied to the water that
           drips in a cave in Puna. It is also the name of a stream in
           Wai-pi’o valley, Hawaii.]

           [Footnote 106: _Kilo-hana_. The name given the outside,
           ornamented, sheet of a set (_kuina_) of five tapas used as
           bed-clothing. It was also applied to that part of a pa-ú
           which was decorated with figures. The word comes from
           _kilohi_, to examine critically, and _hana_, to work, and
           therefore means an ornamental work.]

           [Footnote 107: _Ohe_. Bamboo. In this case the stamp, made from
           bamboo, used to print the tapa.]

           [Footnote 108: _Alá_. The hard, dark basalt of which the
           Hawaiian _ko’i_, adz, is made; any pebble, or small
           water-worn stone, such as would be used to hold in place the
           pa-ú while spread out to dry.]

           [Footnote 109: _Kane-poha-ka’a_. Kane-the-hail-sender. The
           great god Kane was also conceived of as Kane-hekili, the
           thunderer; Kane-lulu-honua, the earthquake-sender, etc.]

           [Footnote 110: _Wai-manu_ and _Wai-pi’o_ are neighboring

           [Footnote 111: _Ko-a’e-kea_. A land in Wai-pi’o valley.]

           [Footnote 112: _Mo’ ke kihi_. Mo’ is a contracted form of

           [Footnote 113: _Hoaka._ The name of the moon in its second day,
           or of the second day of the Hawaiian month; a crescent.]

           [Footnote 114: _O awili o Malu-ó._ The most direct and evident
           sense of the word _awili_ is to wrap. It probably means the
           wrapping of the pa-ú about the loins; or it may mean the
           movable, shifty action of the pa-ú caused by the lively
           actions of the dancer. The expression _Malu-ó_ may be taken
           from the utterance of the king’s _ilamuku_ (constable or
           sheriff) or other official, who, in proclaiming a tabu, held
           an idol in his arms and at the same time called out _Kapu,
           o-o!_ The meaning is that the pa-ú, when wrapped about the
           woman’s loins, laid a tabu on the woman. The old Hawaiian
           consulted on the meaning of this passage quoted the
           following, which illustrates the fondness of his people for
           endless repetitions and play upon words:

                Awiliwili i ka hale[119] o ka lauwili, e.
                He lauwili ka makani, he Kaua-ula,[120]
                I hoapaapa i ka hale o ka lauwili, e:


                Unstable the house of the shifty man,
                Fickle as the wind Kaua-ula.
                Treachery lurks in the house of Unstable.

           [Footnote 115: _Kaupoku._ A variant of the usual form, which is
           _kaupaku_, the ridgepole of a house, its apex. The pa-ú
           when worn takes the shape of a grass house, which has the
           form of a haystack.]

           [Footnote 116: _Ula ka pali._ Red shows the pali, i. e., the
           side hill. This is a euphemism for some accident by which the
           pa-ú has been displaced, and an exposure of the person has
           taken place, as a result of which the boys scream and even
           the sea-bird, the _a’o_, shrieks itself hoarse.]

           [Footnote 117: _A’o._ A sea-bird, whose raucous voice is heard
           in the air at night at certain seasons.]

           [Footnote 118: _Hi’i-lawe_. A celebrated waterfall in Wai-pi’o
           valley, Hawaii.]

           [Footnote 119: Primitive meaning, house; second, the body as
           the house of the soul.]

           [Footnote 120: Kaua-ula. A strong wind that shifted from one
           point to another, and that blew, often with great violence,
           at Lahaina, Maui. The above triplet was often quoted by the
           chiefs of olden time apropos of a person who was fickle in
           love or residence. As the old book has it, “The double-minded
           man is unstable in all his ways.” (_O ke kanáka lolilua ka
           manao lauwili kona mau aoao a pau._)]

           This is a typical Hawaiian poem of the better sort, keyed in
           a highly imaginative strain. The multitude of specific
           allusions to topographical names make it difficult to
[Page 54]  translate it intelligently to a foreign mind. The poetical
           units are often so devised that each new division takes its
           clue from the last word of the previous verse, on the
           principle of “follow your leader,” a capital feature in
           Hawaiian poetry.


                                  Pa-ú Song

                Gird on the pa-ú, garment tucked in one side,
                Skirt lacelike and beauteous in staining,
                That is wrapped and made fast about the oven.
                Bubbly as foam of falling water it stands,
            5   Quintuple skirt, sheer as the cliff Kupe-hau.
                One journeyed to work on it at Honokane.

                Have a care the pa-ú is not filched.
                Scent from the robe Manú climbs the valley walls—
                Abysses profound, heights twisting the neck.
           10   A child is this steep thing of the cliff Kau-kini,
                A swelling cloud on the peak of Auwana.

                Wondrous the care and toil to make the pa-ú!
                What haste to finish, when put a-soak
                In the side-glancing stream of Apua!
           15   Caught by the rain-scud that searches the glen,
                The tinted gown illumines the pali—

                The sheeny steep shot with buds of lama—
                Outshining the comely malua-ula.
                Which one may seize and gird with a strong hand.
           20   Leaf of ti for his malo, Umi[121] stood covered.

                Look at the oloná fibers inwrought,
                Like the trickling brooklets of Wai-hilau.
                The oloná fibers knit with strength
                This dainty immaculate web, the pa-ú,
           25   And the filmy weft of the kilo-hana.
                With the small bamboo the tapa is finished.

                A fire seems to bud on the pali,
                When the tapa is spread out to dry,
                Pressed down with stones at Wai-manu—
           30   Stones that are shifted about and about,
                Stones that are tossed here and there,
                Like work of the hail-thrower Kane.

                At Wai-manu finished, ’tis cut at Wai-pi’o;
                Ha’i takes the bamboo Ko-a’e-kea;
[Page 55]  35   Deftly wields the knife of small-leafed bamboo;
                A bamboo choice and fit for the work.
                Cut, cut through, cut off the corners;
                Cut round, like crescent moon of Hoaka;
                Cut in scallops this shift that makes tabu:
           40   A fringe is this for the pa-ú.

                ’Tis lifted by Ka-holo-ku-iwa,
                ’Tis borne by Pa-wili-wili;
                A pa-ú narrow at top like a house,
                That’s hung on the roof-tree till morning,

           45   Hung on the roof-tree Ha-la’a-wili.
                Make a bundle fitting the shoulder;
                Lash it fast, rolled tight like a log.
                The bundle falls, red shows the pali;
                The children shout, they scream in derision.
           50   The a’o bird shrieks itself hoarse
                In wonder at the pa-ú—
                Pa-ú with a sheen like Hi’i-lawe falls,
                Bowed like the rainbow arch
                Of the rain that’s now falling.

           [Footnote 121: _Umi_. It was Liloa, the father of Umi, who
           covered himself with a ti leaf instead of a malo after the
           amour that resulted in the birth of Umi. His malo he had
           given as a pledge to the woman, who became the mother of

           The girls of the olapa, their work in the tiring-room
           completed, lift their voices in a spirited song, and with a
           lively motion pass out into the hall to bloom before the
           waiting assembly in the halau in all the glory of their
           natural charms and adornments:


                Ku ka punohu ula i ka moana;
                Hele ke ehu-kai, uhi i ka aina;
                Olapa ka uila, noho i Kahiki.
                Uina, nakolo,
          5     Uwa, ka pihe,
                Lau[122] kánaka ka hula.
                E Laka, e!


                                _Tiring Song_.

                The rainbow stands red o’er the ocean;
                Mist crawls from the sea and covers the land;
                Far as Kahiki flashes the lightning;
                A reverberant roar,
           5     A shout of applause
                From the four hundred.
                I appeal to thee, Laka!

           [Footnote 122: _Lau_ (archaic). Four hundred.]
[Page 56]
           The answering song, led by the kumu, is in the same
           flamboyant strain:


                Lele Mahu’ilani[123] a luna,
                Lewa ia Kauna-lewa![124]



                Lift Mahu’ilani on high;
                Thy palms Kauna-lewa a-waving!

           [Footnote 123: _Mahu’ilani_. A poetical name for the right
           hand; this the _olapa_, the dancing girls, lifted in
           extension as they entered the halau from the dressing room.
           The left hand was termed _Kaohi-lani_.]

           [Footnote 124: _Kauna-lewa_. The name of a celebrated grove of
           coconuts at Kekaha, Kauai, near the residence of the late Mr.

           After the ceremony of the pa-ú came that of the lei, a wreath
           to crown the head and another for the neck and shoulders. It
           was not the custom in the old times to overwhelm the body
           with floral decorations and to blur the outlines of the
           figure to the point of disfigurement; nor was every flower
           that blows acceptable as an offering. The gods were jealous
           and nice in their tastes, pleased only with flowers
           indigenous to the soil—the ilima (pl. VI), the lehua, the
           maile, the ie-ie, and the like (see pp. 19, 20). The ceremony
           was quickly accomplished. As the company knotted the garlands
           about head or neck, they sang:

                               _Oli Lei_

                Ke lei mai la o Ka-ula i ke kai, e!
                Ke malamalama o Niihau, ua malie.
                A malie, pa ka Inu-wai.
                Ke inu mai la na hala o Naue i ke kai.
            5   No Naue, ka hala, no Puna ka wahine.[125]
                No ka lua no i Kilauea.


                              _Wreath Song_

                Ka-ula wears the ocean as a wreath;
                Nii-hau shines forth in the calm.
                After the calm blows the wind Inu-wai;
                Naue’s palms then drink in the salt.
            5   From Naue the palm, from Puna the woman—
                Aye, from the pit, Kilauea.

           Tradition tells a pathetic story (p. 212) in narrating an
           incident touching the occasion on which this song first was

           [Footnote 125: _Wahine_. The woman, Pele.]


[Page 57]

                        IX.—THE HULA ALA’A-PAPA

           Every formal hula was regarded by the people of the olden
           time as a sacred and religious performance (_tabu_); but all
           hulas were not held to be of equal dignity and rank
           (_hanohano_). Among those deemed to be of the noblest rank
           and honor was the _ala’a-papa_. In its best days this was a
           stately and dignified performance, comparable to the
           old-fashioned courtly minuet.

           We shall observe in this hula the division of the performers
           into two sets, the _hoopa’a_ and the _olapa_. Attention will
           naturally bestow itself first on the olapa, a division of the
           company made up of splendid youthful figures, young men,
           girls, and women in the prime of life. They stand a little
           apart and in advance of the others, the right hand extended,
           the left resting upon the hip, from which hangs in swelling
           folds the pa-ú. The time of their waiting for the signal to
           begin the dance gives the eye opportunity to make deliberate
           survey of the forms that stand before us.

           The figures of the men are more finely proportioned, more
           statuesque, more worthy of preservation in marble or bronze
           than those of the women. Only at rare intervals does one find
           among this branch of the Polynesian race a female shape which
           from crown to sole will satisfy the canons of
           proportion—which one carries in the eye. That is not to say,
           however, that the artistic eye will not often meet a shape
           that appeals to the sense of grace and beauty. The springtime
           of Hawaiian womanly beauty hastes away too soon. Would it
           were possible to stay that fleeting period which ushers in
           full womanhood!

           One finds himself asking the question to what extent the
           responsibility for this overthickness of leg and
           ankle—exaggerated in appearance, no doubt, by the ruffled
           anklets often worn—this pronounced tendency to the growth of
           that degenerate weed, fat, is to be explained by the standard
           of beauty which held sway in Hawaii’s courts and for many
           ages acted as a principle of selection in the physical
           molding of the Hawaiian female.

           The prevailing type of physique among the Hawaiians, even
           more marked in the women than in the men, is the short and
           thick, as opposed to the graceful and slender. One does
           occasionally find delicacy of modeling in the young and
           immature; but with adolescence fatness too often comes to
           blur the outline.

           The hoopa’a, who act as instrumentalists, very naturally
           maintain a position between sitting and kneeling, the better
[Page 58]  to enable them to handle that strangely effective drumlike
           instrument, the _ipu_, the one musical instrument used as an
           accompaniment in this hula. The ipu is made from the bodies
           of two larger pear-shaped calabashes of unequal sizes, which
           are joined together at their smaller ends in such a manner as
           to resemble a figure-of-eight. An opening is left at the top
           of the smaller calabash to increase the resonance. In moments
           of calm the musicians allow the body to rest upon the heels;
           as the action warms they lift themselves to such height as
           the bended knee will permit.

           The ala’a-papa is a hula of comparatively moderate action.
           While the olapa employ hands, feet, and body in gesture and
           pose to illustrate the meaning and emotion of the song, the
           musicians mark the time by lifting and patting with the right
           hand the ipu each holds in the left hand. If the action of
           the play runs strong and stirs the emotions, each hoopa’a
           lifts his ipu wildly, fiercely smites it, then drops it on
           the padded rest in such manner as to bring out its deep
           mysterious tone.

           At a signal from the kumu, who sits with the hoopa’a, the
           _poo-pua’a_, leader of the olapa, calls the mele (_kahea i ka
           mele_)—that is, he begins its recitation—in a tone
           differing but little from that of ordinary conversation, a
           sing-song recitation, a vocalization less stilted and less
           punctilious than that usually employed in the utterance of
           the oli or mele. The kumu, the leader of the company, now
           joins in, mouthing his words in full observance of the mele
           style. His manner of cantillation may be either what may be
           called the low relief, termed _ko’i-honua_, or a pompous
           alto-relievo style, termed _ai-ha’a_. This is the signal for
           the whole company to chime in, in the same style as the kumu.
           The result, as it seems to the untutored ear, is a confusion
           of sounds like that of the many-tongued roar of the ocean.

           The songs cantillated for the hula ala’a-papa were many and
           of great variety. It seems to have been the practice for the
           kumu to arrange a number of mele, or poetical pieces, for
           presentation in the hula in such order as pleased him. These
           different mele, thus arranged, were called _pale_,
           compartments, or _mahele_, divisions, as if they were
           integral parts of one whole, while in reality their relation
           to one another was only that of the juxtaposition imposed
           upon them by the kumu.

           The poetical pieces first to be presented were communicated
           to the author as mahele, divisions—hardly cantos—in the
           sense above defined. They are, however, distinct poems,
           though there chances to run through them all a somewhat
           similar motive. The origin of many of these is referred to a
           past so remote that tradition assigns them to what the
           Hawaiians call the _wa po_, the night of tradition, or they
           say of them, _no ke akua mai_, they are from the gods. It
[Page 59]  matters not how faithful has been the effort to translate
           these poems, they will not be found easy of comprehension.
           The local allusions, the point of view, the atmosphere that
           were in the mind of the savage are not in our minds to-day,
           and will not again be in any mind on earth; they defy our
           best efforts at reproduction. To conjure up the ghostly
           semblance of these dead impalpable things and make them live
           again is a problem that must be solved by each one with such
           aid from the divining rod of the imagination as the reader
           can summon to his help.

           Now for the play, the song:

                   _Mele no Ka Hula Alá’a-papa_

                          MAHELE-HELE I

                             PAUKU 1

                A Koolau wau, ike i ka ua,
                E ko-kolo la-lepo ana ka ua,
                E ka’i ku ana, ka’i mai ana ka ua,
                E nu mai ana ka ua i ke kuahiwi,
            5   E po’i ana ka ua me he nalu la.
                E puka, a puka mai ka ua la.
                Waliwali ke one i ka hehi’a e ka ua;
                Ua holo-wai na kaha-wai;
                Ua ko-ké wale na pali.
           10   Aia ka wai la i ka ilina,[126] he ilio,
                He ilio hae, ke nahu nei e puka.


                   _Song for the Hula Alá’a-papa._

                                CANTO I

                                STANZA 1

                ’Twas in Koolau I met with the rain:
                It comes with lifting and tossing of dust,
                Advancing in columns, dashing along.
                The rain, it sighs in the forest;
            5   The rain, it beats and whelms, like the surf;
                It smites, it smites now the land.
                Pasty the earth from the stamping rain;
                Full run the streams, a rushing flood;
                The mountain walls leap with the rain.
           10   See the water chafing its bounds like a dog,
                A raging dog, gnawing its way to pass out.

           This song is from the story of Hiiaka on her journey to Kauai
           to bring the handsome prince, Lohiau, to Pele. The region is
           that on the windward, _Koolau_, side of Oahu.

           [Footnote 126: _Ilina_. A sink, a place where a stream sinks
           into the earth or sand.]

[Page 60]

                                   PAUKU 2

                Hoopono oe, he aina kai Waialua i ka hau;
                Ke olelo[127] wale no la i ka lani.
                Lohe ka uka o ka pehu i Ku-kani-loko.[128]
                I-loko, i-waho kaua la, e ka hoa,
            5   I kahi e pau ai o ka oni?
                Oni ana i ka manawa o ka lili.
                Pee oe, pee ana iloko o ka hilahila.
                I hilahila wale ia no e oe;
                Nou no ka hale,[129] komo mai maloko.

           The lines from the fourth to the ninth in this stanza
           (_pauku_) represent a dialogue between two lovers.


                                  STANZA 2

                Look now, Waialua, land clothed with ocean-mist—
                Its wilderness-cries heaven’s ear only hears,
                The wilderness-gods of Ku-kani-loko.
                Within or without shall we stay, friend,
            5   Until we have stilled the motion?
                To toss is a sign of impatience.
                You hide, hiding as if from shame,
                I am bashful because of your presence;
                The house is yours, you’ve only to enter.

                                  PAUKU 3


                Pakú Kea-au,[130] lulu Wai-akea;[131]
                Noho i ka la’i loa o Hana-kahi,[132]
                O Hilo, i olokea[133] ia, i au la, e, i kai,
                O Lele-iwi,[134] o Maka-hana-loa.[135]
            5   Me he kaele-papa[136] la Hilo, i lalo ka noho.
                Kaele[137] wale Hilo i ke alai ia e ka ua.
                Oi ka niho o ka ua o Hilo i ka lani;
                Kua-wa’a-wa’a Hilo  eli ’a e ka wai;
                Kai-koo, haki na nalu, ka ua o Hilo;
[Page 61]  10   Ha’i lau-wili mai ka nahele.
                Nanalu, kahe waikahe o Wai-luku;
                Hohonu Waiau,[138] nalo ke poo o ka lae o Moku-pane;[139]
                Wai ulaula o Wai-anue-nue;[140]
                Ka-wowo nui i ka wai o Kolo-pule-pule;[141]
           15   Halulu i ha-ku’i, ku me he uahi la
                Ka puá, o ka wai ua o-aka i ka lani.
                Eleele Hilo e, pano e, i ka ua;
                Okakala ka hulu o Hilo i ke anu;
                Pili-kau[142] mai Hilo ia ua loa.
           20   Pali-ku laau ka uka o Haili[143]
                Ka lae ohi’a e kope-kope,
                Me he aha moa la, ka pale pa laau,
                Ka nahele o Pa-ie-ie,[144]
                Ku’u po’e lehua iwaena konu o Mo-kau-lele;[145]
           25   Me ka ha’i laau i pu-kaula hala’i i ka ua.
                Ke nana ia la e la’i i Hanakahi.
                Oni aku Hilo, oni ku’u kai lipo-lipo,
                A Lele-iwi, ku’u kai ahu mimiki a ka Malua.[146]
                Lei kahiko, lei nalu ka poai.
           30   Nana Pu’u-eo[147] e! makai ka iwi-honua,[148] e!
                Puna-hoa la, ino, ku, ku wau a Wai-akea la.

           [Footnote 127: _Olelo_. To speak, to converse; here used
           figuratively to mean that the place is lonely, has no view of
           the ocean, looks only to the sky. “Looks that commerce with
           the sky.”]

           [Footnote 128: _Ku-kani-loko_. A land in Waialua, Oahu, to
           which princesses resorted in the olden times at the time of
           childbirth, that their offspring might have the distinction
           of being an _alii kapu_, a chief with a tabu.]

           [Footnote 129: _Hale_ House; a familiar euphemism of the human

           [Footnote 130: _Kea-au_. An _ahu-pua’a_, small division of
           land, in Puna adjoining Hilo, represented as sheltering Hilo
           on that side.]

           [Footnote 131: _Waiakea_. A river in Hilo, and the land through
           which it flows.]

           [Footnote 132: _Hana-kahi_. A land on the Hamakua side of Hilo,
           also a king whose name was a synonym for profound peace.]

           [Footnote 133: _Olo-kea_. To be invited or pulled many ways at
           once; distracted.]

           [Footnote 134: _Lele-iwi_. A cape on the north side of Hilo.]

           [Footnote 135: _Maka-hana-loa_. A cape.]

           [Footnote 136: _Kaele-papa_. A large, round, hollowed board on
           which to pound taro in the making of poi. The poi-board was
           usually long and oval.]

           [Footnote 137: _Kaele_. In this connection the meaning is
           surrounded, encompassed by.]

           [Footnote 138: _Waiau_. The name given to the stretch of
           Wailuku river near its mouth.]

           [Footnote 139: _Moku-pane_. The cape between the mouth of the
           Wailuku river and the town of Hilo.]

           [Footnote 140: _Wai-anue-nue_. Rainbow falls and the river that
           makes the leap.]

           [Footnote 141: _Kolo-pule-pule_. Another branch of the Wailuku

           [Footnote 142: _Pili-kau_. To hang low, said of a cloud.]

           [Footnote 143: _Haili_. A region in the inland, woody, part of

           [Footnote 144: _Pa-ieie_. A well-wooded part of Hilo, once much
           resorted to by bird-hunters; a place celebrated in Hawaiian

           [Footnote 145: _Mokau-lele_. A wild, woody region In the
           interior of Hilo.]

           [Footnote 146: _Malua_. Name given to a wind from a northerly
           or northwesterly direction on several of the islands. The
           full form is Malua-lua.]

           [Footnote 147: _Pu’u-eo_. A village in the Hilo district near

           [Footnote 148: _Iwi-honua_. Literally a bone of the earth: a
           projecting rock or a shoal; if in the water, an object to be
           avoided by the surf-rider. In this connection see note _e_,
           p. 36.]


                                    STANZA 3

                            (With distinct utterance)

                Kea-au shelters, Waiakea lies in the calm,
                The deep peace of King Hana-kahi.
                Hilo, of many diversions, swims in the ocean,
                ’Tween Point Lele-iwi and Maka-hana-loa;
            5   And the village rests in the bowl,
                Its border surrounded with rain—
                Sharp from the sky the tooth of Hilo’s rain.
                Trenched is the land, scooped out by the downpour—
                Tossed and like gnawing surf is Hilo’s rain—
           10   Beach strewn with a tangle of thicket growth;
                A billowy freshet pours in Wailuku;
                Swoll’n is Wai-au, flooding the point Moku-pane;
                And red leaps the water of Anue-nue.
                A roar to heaven sends up Kolo-pule,
[Page 62]  15   Shaking like thunder, mist rising like smoke.
                The rain-cloud unfolds in the heavens;
                Dark grows Hilo, black with the rain.
                The skin of Hilo grows rough from the cold;
                The storm-cloud hangs low o’er the land.
           20   A rampart stand the woods of Haili;
                Ohi’as thick-set must be brushed aside,
                To tear one’s way, like a covey of fowl,
                In the wilds of Pa-ie-ie—
                Lehua growths mine—heart of Mokau-lele.
           25   A breaking, a weaving of boughs, to shield from rain;
                A look enraptured on Hana-kahi,
                Sees Hilo astir, the blue ocean tossing
                Wind-thrown-spray—dear sea—’gainst Point Lele-iwi—
                A time-worn foam-wreath to encircle its brow.
           30   Look, Pu’u-eo! guard ’gainst the earth-rib!
                It’s Puna-hoa reef; halt!
                At Waiakea halt!

                                   PAUKU 4


                Kua loloa Kea-au i ka nahele;
                Hala kua hulu-hulu Pana-ewa i ka laau;
                Inoino ka maha o ka ohia o La’a.
                Ua ku kepakepa ka maha o ka lehua;
            5   Ua po-po’o-hina i ka wela a ke Akua.
                Ua u-ahi Puna i ka oloka’a pohaku,
                I ka huna pa’a ia e ka wahine.
                Nanahu ahi ka papa o Olu-ea;
                Momoku ahi Puna hala i Apua;
           10   Ulu-á ka nahele me ka laau.
                Oloka’a kekahi ko’i e Papa-lau-ahi;
                I eli ’a kahi ko’i e Ku-lili-kaua.
                Kai-ahea a hala i Ka-li’u;
                A eu e, e ka La, ka malama-lama.
           15   O-na-naka ka piko o Hilo ua me ke one,
                I huli i uka la, i hulihia i kai;
                Ua wa-wahi ’a, ua na-ha-há,
                Ua he-hele-lei!


                              STANZA 4

                          (Bombastic style)

                Ke’-au is a long strip of wildwood;
                Shag of pandanus mantles Pan’-ewa;
                Scraggy the branching of Laa’s ohias;
                The lehua limbs at sixes and sevens—
            5   They are gray from the heat of the goddess.
[Page 63]       Puna smokes mid the bowling of rocks—
                Wood and rock the She-god heaps in confusion,
                The plain Oluea’s one bed of live coals;
                Puna is strewn with fires clean to Apua,
           10   Thickets and tall trees a-blazing.
                Sweep on, oh fire-ax, thy flame-shooting flood!
                Smit by this ax is Ku-lili-kaua.
                It’s a flood tide of lava clean to Kali’u,
                And the Sun, the light-giver, is conquered.
           15   The bones of wet Hilo rattle from drought;
                She turns for comfort to mountain, to sea,
                Fissured and broken, resolved into dust.

           This poem is taken from the story of Hiiaka. On her return
           from the journey to fetch Lohiau she found that her sister
           Pele had treacherously ravaged with fire Puna, the district
           that contained her own dear woodlands. The description given
           in the poem is of the resulting desolation.

                                     PAUKA 5

                No-luna ka Hale-kai[149] no ka ma’a-lewa,[150]
                Nana ka maka ia Moana-nui-ka-lehua.[151]
                Noi au i ke Kai, e mali’o.[152]
                Ina ku a’e la he lehua[153] ilaila!
            5   Hopoe-lehua[154] kiekie.
                Maka’u ka lehua i ke kanáka,[155]
                Lilo ilalo e hele ai, e-e,
                A ilalo hoi.
                O Kea-au[156] ili-ili nehe ke kai,
[Page 64]  10   Hoo-lono[157] ke kai o Puna
                I ka ulu hala la, e-e,
                Kai-ko’o Puna.
                Ia hooneenee ia pili mai[158] kaua, e ke hoa.
                Ke waiho e mai la oe ilaila.
           15   Ela ka mea ino la, he anu,
                A he anu me he mea la iwaho kaua, e ke hoa;
                Me he wai la ko kaua ili.

           [Footnote 149: _Hale-kai_. A wild mountain, glen back of
           Hanalei valley, Kauai.]

           [Footnote 150: _Ma’alewa_. An aerial root that formed a sort
           of ladder by which one climbed the mountain steeps; literally
           a shaking sling.]

           [Footnote 151: _Moana-nui-ka-lehua_. A female demigod that came
           from the South (_Ku-kulu-o-Kahiki_) at about the same
           mythical period as that of Pele’s arrival—If not in her
           company—and who was put in charge of a portion of the
           channel that lies between Kauai and Oahu. This channel was
           generally termed _Ie-ie-waena_ and _Ie-ie-waho_. Here the
           name _Moana-nui-ka-lehua_ seems to be used to indicate the
           sea as well as the demigoddess, whose dominion it was.
           Ordinarily she appeared as a powerful fish, but she was
           capable of assuming the form of a beautiful woman (mermaid?).
           The title _lehua_ was given her on account of her womanly

           [Footnote 152: _Mali’o_. Apparently another form of the word
           _malino_, calm; at any rate it has the same meaning.]

           [Footnote 153: _Lehua_. An allusion to the ill-fated’ young
           woman Hopoe, who was Hiiaka’s intimate friend. The allusion
           is amplified in the next line.]

           [Footnote 154: _Hopoe-lehua_. The lehua tree was one of the
           forms in which Hopoe appeared, and after her death, due to
           the jealous rage of Pele, she was turned into a charred lehua
           tree which stood on the coast subject to the beating of the

           [Footnote 155: _Maka’u ka lehua i ke kanaka_. Another version
           has it _Maka’u ke kanaka i ka lehua_; Man fears the lehua.
           The form here used is perhaps an ironical allusion to man’s
           fondness not only to despoil the tree of its scarlet flowers,
           but womanhood, the woman it represented.]

           [Footnote 156: _Kea-au_. Often shortened in pronunciation to
           _Ke-au_, a fishing village in Puna near Hilo town. It now has
           a landing place for small vessels.]

           [Footnote 157: _Hoolono_. To call, to make an uproar, to spread
           a report.]

           [Footnote 158: _Ia hoo-nee-nee ia pili mai_. A very peculiar
           figure of speech. It Is as if the poet personified, the act
           of two lovers snuggling up close to each other. Compare with
           this the expression _No huli mai_, used by another poet in
           the thirteenth line of the lyric given on p. 204. The motive
           is the same in each case.]

           The author of this poem of venerable age is not known. It is
           spoken of as belonging to the _wa po_, the twilight of
           tradition. It is represented to be part of a mele taught to
           Hiiaka by her friend and preceptress in the hula, Hopoe.
           Hopoe is often called _Hopoe-wahine_. From internal evidence
           one can see that it can not be in form the same as was given
           to Hiiaka by Hopoe; it may have been founded on the poem of
           Hopoe. If so, it has been modified.


                                  STANZA 5

                From mountain retreat and root-woven ladder
                Mine eye looks down on goddess Moana-Lehua;
                I beg of the Sea, Be thou calm;
                Would there might stand on thy shore a lehua—
            5   Lehua-tree tall of Ho-poe.
                The lehua is fearful of man;
                It leaves him to walk on the ground below,
                To walk the ground far below.
                The pebbles at Ke’-au grind in the surf.
           10   The sea at Ke’-au shouts to Puna’s palms,
                “Fierce is the sea of Puna.”
                Move hither, snug close, companion mine;
                You lie so aloof over there.
                Oh what a bad fellow is cold!
           15   ’Tis as if we were out on the wold;
                Our bodies so clammy and chill, friend!

           The last five verses, which sound like a love song, may
           possibly be a modern addition to this old poem. The sentiment
           they contain is comparable to that expressed in the Song of
           Welcome on page 39:

                Eia ka pu’u nui o waho nei, he anu.
                The hill of Affliction out there is the cold.

[Page 65]

                               MAHELE-HELE II

                Hi’u-o-lani,[159] kii ka ua o Hilo[160] i ka lani;
                Ke hookiikii mai la ke ao o Pua-lani;[161]
                O mahele ana,[162] pulu Hilo i ka ua—
                O Hilo Hana-kahi.[163]

            5   Ha’i ka nalu, wai kaka lepo o Pii-lani;
                Hai’na ka iwi o Hilo,
                I ke ku ia e ka wai.
                Oni’o lele a ka ua o Hilo i ka lani.

                Ke hookiikii mai la ke ao o Pua-lani,
           10   Ke holuholu a’e la e puka,
                Puka e nana ke kiki a ka ua,
                Ka nonoho a ka ua i ka hale o Hilo.

                Like Hilo me Puna ke ku a mauna-ole[164]
                He ole ke ku a mauna Hilo me Puna.
           15   He kowa Puna mawaena Hilo me Ka-ú;
                Ke pili wale la i ke kua i mauna-ole;
                Pili hoohaha i ke kua o Mauna-loa.

                He kuahiwi Ka-ú e pa ka makani.
                Ke alai ia a’e la Ka-ú e ke A’e;[165]
           20   Ka-u ku ke ehu lepo ke A’e;
                Ku ke ehu-lepo mai la Ka-ú i ka makani.
                Makani Kawa hu’a-lepo Ka-ú i ke A’e.

[Page 66]       Kahiko mau no o Ka-ú i ka makani.
                Makani ka Lae-ka-ilio i Unu-lau,
           25   Kaili-ki’i[166] a ka lua a Kaheahea,[167]
                I ka ha’a nawali ia ino.

                Ino wa o ka mankani o Kau-ná.
                Nana aku o ka makani malaila!
                O Hono-malino, malino i ka la’i o Kona.
           30   He inoa la!

           [Footnote 159: _Hi’u-o-lani_. A very blind phrase. Hawaiians
           disagree as to its meaning. In the author’s opinion, it is a
           word referring to the conjurer’s art.]

           [Footnote 160: _Ua o Hilo_. Hilo is a very rainy country. The
           name Hilo seems to be used here as almost a synonym of
           violent rain. It calls to mind the use of the word Hilo to
           signify a strong wind:

                Pa mai, pa mai,
                Ka makani a Hilo![168]
                Waiho ka ipu iki,
                Homai ka ipu nui!


                Blow, blow, thou wind of Hilo!
                Leave the little calabash,
                Bring on the big one!

           [Footnote 161: _Pua-lani_. The name of a deity who took the
           form of the rosy clouds of morning.]

           [Footnote 162: _Mahele ana_. Literally the dividing; an
           allusion to the fact, it is said, that in Hilo a rain-cloud,
           or rain-squall, as it came up would often divide and a part
           of it turn off toward Puna at the cape named Lele-iwi,
           one-half watering, in the direction of the present town, the
           land known as Hana-kahi.]

           [Footnote 163: _Hana-kahi_. Look at note _f_, p. 60.]

           [Footnote 164: _Mauna-ole_. According to one authority this
           should be Mauna-Hilo. Verses 13, 14, 16, and 17 are difficult
           of translation. The play on the words _ku a_, standing at, or
           standing by, and _kua_, the back; also on the word _kowa_, a
           gulf or strait; and the repetition of the word _mauna_,
           mountain—all this is carried to such an extent as to be
           quite unintelligible to the Anglo-Saxon mind, though full of
           significance to a Hawaiian.]

           [Footnote 165: _A’e_. A strong wind that prevails in Ka-u. The
           same word also means to step on, to climb. This
           double-meaning gives the poet opportunity for a euphuistic
           word-play that was much enjoyed by the Hawaiians. The
           Hawaiians of the present day are not quite up to this sort of

           [Footnote 166: _Kaili-ki’i_. The promontory that shelters the
           cove _Ka-hewa-hewa_.]

           [Footnote 167: _Ka-hea-hea_. The name of the cove
           _Ka-hewa-hewa_, above mentioned, is here given in a softened
           form obtained by the elision of the letter _w_.]

           [Footnote 168: _Hilo_, or Whiro, as in the Maori, was a great


                                    CANTO II

                Heaven-magic, fetch a Hilo-pour from heaven!
                Morn’s cloud-buds, look! they swell in the East.
                The rain-cloud parts, Hilo is deluged with rain,
                The Hilo of King Hana-kahi.

            5   Surf breaks, stirs the mire of Pii-lani;     5
                The bones of Hilo are broken
                By the blows of the rain.
                Ghostly the rain-scud of Hilo in heaven;

                The cloud-forms of Pua-lani grow and thicken.
           10   The rain-priest bestirs him now to go forth,
                Forth to observe the stab and thrust of the rain,
                The rain that clings to the roof of Hilo.

                Hilo, like Puna, stands mountainless;
                Aye, mountain-free stand Hilo and Puna.
           15   Puna ’s a gulf ’twixt Ka-ú and Hilo;
                Just leaning her back on Mount Nothing,
                She sleeps at the feet of Mount Loa.

                A mountain-back is Ka-ú which the wind strikes,
                Ka-ú, a land much scourged by the A’e.
           20   A dust-cloud lifts in Ka-ú as one climbs.
                A dust-bloom floats, the lift of the wind:
                ’Tis blasts from mountain-walls piles dust, the A’e.

                Ka-ú was always tormented with wind.
                Cape-of-the-Dog feels Unulau’s blasts;
           25   They turmoil the cove of Ka-hea-hea,
                Defying all strength with their violence.

                There’s a storm when wind blows at Kau-ná.
                Just look at the tempest there raging!
                Hono-malino sleeps sheltered by Kona.
           30   A eulogy this of a name.

           “What name?” was asked of the old Hawaiian.

           “A god,” said he.

           “How is that? A mele-inoa celebrates the name and glory of a
           king, not of a god.”
[Page 67]

           His answer was, “The gods composed the mele; men did not
           compose it.”

           Like an old-time geologist, he solved the puzzle of a novel
           phenomenon by ascribing it to God.

                              MAHELE III


                A Koa’e-kea,[169] i Pueo-hulu-nui,[169]
                Neeu a’e la ka makahiapo o ka pali;
                A a’e, a a’e, a’e[170] la iluna
                Kaholo-kua-iwa, ka pali o Ha’i.[171]
            5   Ha’i a’e la ka pali;
                Ha-nu’u ka pali;
                Hala e Malu-ó;
                Hala a’e la Ka-maha-la’a-wili,
                Ke kaupoku hale a ka ua.
           10   Me he mea i uwae’na a’e la ka pali;
                Me he hale pi’o ka lei na ka manawa o ka pali Halehale-o-ú;
                Me he aho i hilo ’a la ka wai o Wai-hi-lau;
                Me he uahi pulehu-manu la ke kai o ka auwala hula ana.
                Au ana Maka’u-kiu[172] iloko o ke kai;
           15   Pohaku lele[173] o Lau-nui, Lau-pahoehoe.
                Ka eku’na a ke kai i ka ala o Ka-wai-kapu—
                Eku ana, me he pua’a la, ka lae Makani-lele,


                                CANTO III

                            (Bombastic style)

                Haunt of white tropic-bird and big ruffled owl,
                Up rises the firstborn child of the pali.
                He climbs, he climbs, he climbs up aloft,
                Kaholo-ku’-iwa, the pali of Ha’i.
            5   Accomplished now is the steep,
                The ladder-like series of steps.
                Malu-ó is left far below.
[Page 68]       Passed is Ka-maha-la’-wili,
                The very ridge-pole of the rain—
           10   It’s as if the peak cut it in twain—
                An arched roof the peak’s crest Hale-hale-o-ú.
                A twisted cord hangs the brook Wai-hilau;
                Like smoke from roasting bird Ocean’s wild dance;
                The shark-god is swimming the sea;
           15   The rocks leap down at Big-leaf[174] and Flat-leaf—[174]
                See the ocean charge ’gainst the cliffs,
                Thrust snout like rooting boar against Windy-cape,
                Against Koholá-lele.

           [Footnote 169: _Koa’e-kea, Pueo hulu-nui_. Steep declivities,
           _pali_, on the side of Waipio valley, Hawaii. Instead of
           inserting these names, which would be meaningless without an
           explanation, the author has given a literal translation of
           the names themselves, thus getting a closer insight into the
           Hawaiian thought.]

           [Footnote 170: _A’e_. The precipices rise one above another
           like the steps of a stairway, climbing, climbing up, though
           the probable intent of the poet is to represent some one as
           climbing the ascent.]

           [Footnote 171: _Ha’i_. Short for _Ha’ina-kolo;_ a woman about
           whom there is a story of tragic adventure. Through eating
           when famished of some berries in an unceremonious way she
           became distraught and wandered about for many months until
           discovered by the persistent efforts of her husband. The pali
           which she climbed was named after her.]

           [Footnote 172: _Maka’u-kiu_. The name of a famous huge shark
           that was regarded with reverential fear.]

           [Footnote 173: _Pohaku lele_. In order to determine whether a
           shark was present, it was the custom, before going into the
           clear water of some of these coves, to throw rocks into the
           water in order to disturb the monster and make his presence

           [Footnote 174: _Big-leaf_. A literal translation of _Lau-nui_.
           _Laupahoehoe_, Flat-leaf.]

                                MAHELE IV

                Hole[175] Waimea i ka ihe a ka makani,
                Hao mai na ale a ke Ki-pu’u-pu’u;[176]
                He laau kala-ihi ia na ke anu,
                I o’o i ka nahele o Mahiki.[177]
            5   Ku aku la oe i ka Malanai[178] a ke Ki-puu-puu;
                Nolu ka maka o ka oha-wai[179] o Uli;
                Niniau, eha ka pua o Koaie,[180]
                Eha i ke anu ka nahele o Wai-ka-é,
                A he aloha, e!
           10   Aloha Wai-ká, ia’u me he ipo la;
                Me he ipo la ka maka lena o ke Koo-lau,[181]
                Ka pua i ka nahele o Mahule-i-a,
                E lei hele i ke alo o Moo-lau.[182]
                E lau ka huaka’i-hele i ka pali loa;
           15   Hele hihiu, puli[183] noho i ka nahele.
                O ku’u noho wale iho no i kahua, e-e.
                A he aloha, e-e!
                O kou aloha ka i hiki mai i o’u nei.
                Mahea la ia i nalo iho nei?

           This mele, _Hole Waimea_, is also sung in connection with the
           hula _ipu_.

           [Footnote 175: _Hole_. To rasp, to handle rudely, to caress
           passionately. Waimea is a district and village on Hawaii.]

           [Footnote 176: _Kipu’u-pu’u_. A cold wind from Mauna-Kea that
           blows at Waimea.]

           [Footnote 177: _Mahiki_. A woodland in Waimea, in mythological
           times haunted by demons and spooks.]

           [Footnote 178: _Mala-nai_. The poetical name of a wind,
           probably the trade wind; a name much used in Hawaiian
           sentimental poetry.]

           [Footnote 179: _Oha-wai_. A water hole that is filled by
           dripping; an important source of supply for drinking purposes
           in certain parts of Hawaii.]

           [Footnote 180: _Pua o Koaie_, The koaie is a tree that grows in
           the wilds, the blossom of which is extremely fragrant. (Not
           the same as that subspecies of the _koa_ (Acacia koa) which
           Hillebrand describes and wrongly spells _koaia_. Here a
           euphemism for the delicate parts.)]

           [Footnote 181: _Koolau_, or, full form, _Ko-kao-lau_. Described
           by Doctor Hillebrand as _Kokolau_, a wrong spelling. It has a
           pretty yellow flower, a yellow eye—_maka lena_—as the song
           has it. Here used tropically. (This is the plant whose leaf
           is sometimes used as a substitute for tea.)]

           [Footnote 182: _Moolau_. An expression used figuratively to
           mean a woman, more especially her breasts. The term
           _Huli-lau_, is also used, in a slang way, to signify the
           breasts of a woman, the primitive meaning being a calabash.]

           [Footnote 183: _Pili_. To touch; touched. This was the word
           used in the forfeit-paying love game, _kilu_, when the player
           made a point by hitting the target of his opponent with his
           _kilu_. (For further description see p. 235.)]
[Page 69]
           The song above given, the translation of which is to follow,
           belongs to historic times, being ascribed to King
           Liholiho—Kamehameha II—who died in London July 13, 1824, on
           his visit to England. It attained great vogue and still holds
           its popularity with the Hawaiians. The reader will note the
           comparative effeminacy and sentimentality of the style and
           the frequent use of euphemisms and double-entendre. The
           double meaning in a Hawaiian mele will not always be evident
           to one whose acquaintance with the language is not intimate.
           To one who comes to it from excursions in Anglo-Saxon poetry,
           wandering through its “meadows trim with daisies pied,” the
           sly intent of the Hawaiian, even when pointed out, will, no
           doubt, seem an inconsequential thing and the demonstration of
           it an impertinence, if not a fiction to the imagination. Its
           euphemisms in reality have no baser intent than the euphuisms
           of Lyly, Ben Jonson, or Shakespeare.


                              _Song—Hole Waimea_

                                   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]


                                  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!


                                   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!


                              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,

           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.


[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.



                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.]

                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.”]



                       (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.


                              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]



                                 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.


                              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!



                               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.


                               PALE III


                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]



                              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

           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

           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


                                   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.
                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

           [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

           [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



                                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!


                                 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.



                                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.


                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]



                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]


                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.



                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.



                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!



                          (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


                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]



                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.


[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

           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

           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

           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,

               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

           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.


                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.


                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

           [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



                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,

           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.


                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]
                Ka hala, e![216]



                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!


                    _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:


                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!



                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
[Page 100]



                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

           [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,

           [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

           [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.]



                           (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.


                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_.]



                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.


[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.

           [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.



                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!


                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.



                          (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]

                In Puna was I, in Ku-ki’i, in Ha’e-ha’e,
                I saw a wraith of lehua, a burning bush,
                A fire-tree beneath the lava plate.
                Magnificent Puna, fertile from rain,
            5   At all times weaving its mantle.
                Aye Puna’s a land of splendor,
                Proudly bedight with palm and lehua;
                Beauteous above, but horrid below,
                And miry the plain of Mau-kele.
           10   Apua upturned, plod on to Mau-kele.


                Kau lilua i ke anu Wai-aleale;
                He maka halalo ka lehua makanoe;[237]
                He lihilihi kuku ia no Aipo,[238] e;
                O ka hulu a’a ia o Hau-a-iliki;[239]
            5   Ua pehi ’a e ka ua a éha ka nahele,

                Maui ka pua, uwe éha i ke anu,
                I ke kukuna la-wai o Mokihana.[240]
                Ua hana ia aku ka pono a ua pololei;
                Ua hai ’na ia aku no ia oe;
           10   O ke ola no ia.

                O kia’i loko, kia’i Ka-ula,[241]
                Nana i ka makani, hoolono ka leo,
                Ka halulu o ka Malua-kele;[242]
                Kiei, halo i Maka-ike-ole.

           15   Kamau ke ea i ka halau[243] a ola;
                He kula lima ia no Wawae-noho,[244]
                Me he puko’a hakahaka la i Waahila
                Ka momoku a ka unu-lehua o Lehua.
                A lehulehu ka hale pono ka noho ana,

           20   Loaa kou haawina—o ke aloha,
                Ke hauna[245] mai nei ka puka o ka hale.

           [Footnote 237: _Lehua makanoe_. The lehua trees that grow on
           the top of Wai-aleale, the mountain mass of Kauai, are of
           peculiar form, low, stunted, and so furzy as to be almost
           thorny, _kuku_, as mentioned in the next line.]

           [Footnote 238: _Ai-po_. A swamp that occupies the summit basin
           of the mountain, in and about which the thorny lehua trees
           above mentioned stand as a fringe.]

           [Footnote 239: _Hau-a-iliki_. A word made up of _hau_, dew or
           frost, and _iliki_, to smite. The _a_ is merely a

           [Footnote 240: _Mokihana_. The name of a region on the flank of
           Wai-aleale, also a plant that grows there, whose berry is
           fragrant and is used in making wreaths.]

           [Footnote 241: _Ka-ula_. A small rocky island visible from

           [Footnote 242: _Malua-kele_. A wind.]

           [Footnote 243: _Halau_. The shed or house which sheltered the
           canoe, _wa’a_, which latter, as we have seen, was often used
           figuratively to mean the human body, especially the body of a
           woman. _Kamau ke ea i ka halau_ might be translated
           “persistent the breath from her body.” “There’s kames o’
           hinny ’tween my luve’s lips.”]

           [Footnote 244: _Wawae-noho_. Literally the foot that abides; it
           is the name of a place. Here it is to be understood as
           meaning constancy. It is an instance in which the concrete
           stands for the abstract.]

           [Footnote 245: _Hauna_. An odor. In this connection it means
           the odor that hangs about a human habitation. The hidden
           allusion, it is needless to say, is to sexual
[Page 106]



                Wai-aleale stands haughty and cold,
                Her lehua bloom, fog-soaked, droops pensive;
                The thorn-fringe set about swampy Ai-po is
                A feather that flaunts in spite of the pinching frost.
             5  Her herbage is pelted, stung by the rain;

                Bruised all her petals, and moaning in cold
                Mokihana’s sun, his wat’ry beams.
                I have acted in good faith and honor,
                My complaint is only to you—
           10   A matter that touches my life.

                Best watch within and toward Ka-ula;
                Question each breeze, note every rumor,
                Even the whisper of Malua-kele.
                Search high and search low, unobservant.

           15   There is life in the breath from her body,
                Fond caress by a hand not inconstant.
                Like fissured groves of coral
                Stand the ragged clumps of lehua.
                Many the houses, easy the life.

           20   You have your portion—of love;
                Humanity smells at the door.
                Aye, indeed.

           The imagery of this poem is peculiarly obscure and the
           meaning difficult of translation. The allusions are so local
           and special that their meaning does not carry to a distance.

           Wai-aleale is the central mountain mass of Kauai, about 6,000
           feet high. Its summit, a cold, fog-swept wilderness of swamp
           and lake beset with dwarfish growths of lehua, is used as the
           symbol of a woman, impulsively kind, yet in turn passionate
           and disdainful. The physical attributes of the mountain are
           ascribed to her, its spells of frosty coldness, its gloom and
           distance, its fickleness of weather, the repellant
           hirsuteness of the stunted vegetation that fringes the
           central swamp—these things are described as symbols of her
           temper, character, and physical make-up. The bloom and
           herbage of the wilderness, much pelted by the storm, are
           figures to represent her physical charms. But spite of all
           these faults and imperfections, a perennial fragrance, as of
           mokihana, clings to her person, and she is the object of
           devoted love, capable of weaving the spell of fascination
           about her victims.

           This poem furnishes a good example of a peculiarity that
           often is an obstacle to the understanding of Hawaiian poetry.
           It is the breaking up of the composition into a number of
           parts that have but a loose seeming connection the one with
           the other.

[Illustration: BULLETIN 38 PLATE XI

[Page 107]

                              XIII.—THE HULA ÚLI-ULÍ

           The hula _úli-ulí_ was so called from the rattle which was
           its sole instrument of accompaniment. This consisted of a
           small gourd about the size of a large orange, into the cavity
           of which were put shot-like seeds, like those of the canna; a
           handle was then attached (pl. xi).

           The actors who took part in this hula belonged, it is said,
           to the class termed hoopaa, and went through with the
           performance while kneeling or squatting, as has been
           described. While cantillating the mele they held the rattle,
           _úli-ulí_, in the right hand, shaking it against the palm of
           the other hand or the thigh, or making excursions in one
           direction and another. In some performances of this hula
           which the author has witnessed the olapa also took part, in
           one case a woman, who stood and cantillated the song with
           movement and gesture, while the hoopaa devoted themselves
           exclusively to handling the úli-ulí rattles.

           The sacrificial offerings that preceded the old-time
           performances of this hula are said to have been awa and a
           roast porkling, in honor of the goddess Laka.

           If the dignity and quality of the meles now used, or reported
           to have been used, in the hula _úli-ulí_ are to be taken as
           any criterion of the quality and dignity of this hula, one
           has to conclude that it must be assigned to a rank below that
           of some others, such, for instance, as the _ala’a-papa_,
           _pa-ipu_, _Pele_, and others.

           David Malo, the Hawaiian historian, author of _Ka Moolelo
           Hawaii_,[246] in the short chapter that he devotes to the hula,
           mentions only ten hulas by name, the _ka-laau_,
           _pa’i-umauma_, _pahu_, _pahu’a_, _ala’a-papa_, _pa’i-pa’i_,
           _pa-ipu_, _ulili_, _kolani_, and the _kielei_. _Ulili_ is but
           another form of the word _úli-ulí_. Any utterance of Malo is
           to be received seriously; but it seems doubtful if he
           deliberately selected for mention the ten hulas that were
           really the most important. It seems more probable that he set
           down the first ten that stood forth prominent in his memory.
           It was not Malo’s habit, nor part of his education, to make
           an exhaustive list of sports and games, or in fact of
           anything. He spoke of what occurred to him. It must also be
           remembered that, being an ardent convert to Christianity,
[Page 108] Malo felt himself conscience-bound to set himself in
           opposition to the amusements, sports, and games of his
           people, and he was unable, apparently, to see in them any
           good whatsoever. Malo was a man of uncompromising honesty and
           rigidity of principles. His nature, acting under the new
           influences that surrounded him after the introduction of
           Christianity, made it impossible for him to discriminate
           calmly between the good and the pernicious, between the
           purely human and poetic and the depraved elements in the
           sports practised by his people during their period of
           heathenism. There was nothing halfway about Malo. Having
           abandoned a system, his nature compelled him to denounce it
           root and branch.

           [Footnote 246: Translated by N.B. Emerson, M.D., under the
           title “Hawaiian Antiquities,” and published by the B.P.
           Bishop Museum. Hawaiian Gazette Company (Limited), Honolulu,

           The first mele here offered as an accompaniment to this hula
           can boast of no great antiquity; it belongs to the middle of
           the nineteenth century, and was the product of some gallant
           at a time when princes and princesses abounded in Hawaii:


                Aole i manao ia.
                Kahi wai a o Alekoki.
                Hookohu ka ua i uka,
                Noho mai la i Nuuanu.
            5   Anuanu, makehewa au
                Ke kali ana i-laila.
                Ea ino paha ua paa
                Kou manao i ane’i,
                Au i hoomalu ai.
           10   Hoomalu oe a malu;
                Ua malu keia kino
                Mamuli a o kou leo.
                Kau nui aku ka manao
                Kani wai a o Kapena.
           15   Pani’a paa ia mai
                Na manowai a o uka;
                Ahu wale na ki’owai,
                Na papa-hale o luna.
                Maluna a’e no wau,
           20   Ma ke kuono liilii.
                A waho, a o Mamala,
                Hao mai nei ehu-ehu;
                Pulu au i ka huna-kai,
                Kai heahea i ka ili.
           25   Hookahi no koa nui,
                Nana e alo ia ino.
                Ino-ino mai nei luna,
                I ka hao a ka makani.
                He makani ahai-lono;
           30   Lohe ka luna i Pelekane.
                O ia pouli nui
                Mea ole i ku’u manao.
                I o, i a-ne’i au,
                Ka piina la o Ma’ema’e,
[Page 109] 35   E kilohi au o ka nani
                Na pua i Mauna-ala.
                He ala ona-ona kou,
                Ke pili mai i ane’i,
                O a’u lehua ula i-luna,
           40   Ai ono a na manu.



                I spurn the thought with disdain
                Of that pool Alekoki:
                On the upland lingers the rain
                And fondly haunts Nuuanu.
            5   Sharp was the cold, bootless
                My waiting up there.
                I thought thou wert true,
                Wert loyal to me,
                Whom thou laids’t under bonds.
           10   Take oath now and keep it;
                This body is sacred to thee,
                Bound by the word of thy mouth.
                My heart leaps up at thought
                Of the pool, pool of Kapena;
           15   To me it is fenced, shut off,
                The water-heads tightly sealed up.
                The fountains must be a-hoarding,
                For skies are ever down-pouring;
                The while I am lodged up aloft,
           20   Bestowed in the cleft of a rock.
                Now, tossed by sea at Mamala,
                The wind drives wildly the surf;
                I’m soaked with the scud of the ocean,
                My body is rough with the rime.
           25   But one stout hero and soldier,
                With heart to face such a storm.
                Wild scud the clouds,
                Hurled by the tempest,
                A tale-bearing wind,
           30   That gossips afar.
                The darkness and storm
                Are nothing to me.
                This way and that am I turning,
                Climbing the hill Ma’e-ma’e,
           35   To look on thy charms, dear one,
                The fragrant buds of the mountain.
                What perfume breathes from thy body,
                Such time as to thee I come close,
                My scarlet bloom of lehua
           40   Yields nectar sought by the birds.

           This mele is said to have been the production of Prince
[Page 110] William Lunalilo—afterward King of the Hawaiian islands—and
           to have been addressed to the Princess Victoria Kamamalu,
           whom he sought in marriage. Both of them inherited high chief
           rank, and their offspring, according to Hawaiian usage, would
           have outranked her brothers, kings Kamehameha IV and V.
           Selfish and political considerations, therefore, forbade the
           match, and thereby hangs a tale, the shadow of which darkens
           this song. Every lover is one part poet; and Lunalilo, even
           without the love-flame, was more than one part poet.

           The poem shows the influence of foreign ways and teachings
           and the pressure of the new environment that had entered
           Hawaii, in its form, in the moderation of its language and
           imagery, and in the coherence of its parts; at the same time
           the spirit of the song and the color of its native imagery
           mark it as the product of a Polynesian mind.

           According to the author’s interpretation of the song,
           _Alekoki_ (verse 2), a name applied to a portion of the
           Nuuanu stream lower down than the basin and falls of _Kapena_
           (_Kahiwai a o Kapena_—verse 14), symbolizes a flame that may
           once have warmed the singer’s imagination, but which he
           discards in favor of his new love, the pool of Kapena. The
           rain, which prefers to linger in the upland regions of Nuuanu
           (verses 3 and 4) and which often reaches not the lower
           levels, typifies his brooding affection. The cold, the storm,
           and the tempest that rage at _Mamala_ (verse 21)—a name
           given to the ocean just outside Honolulu harbor—and that
           fill the heavens with driving scud (verses 27 and 28)
           represent the violent opposition in high quarters to the
           love-match. The tale-bearing wind, _makani ahai-lono_ (verse
           29), refers, no doubt, to the storm of scandal. The use of
           the place-names _Ma’ema’e_ and _Mauna-ala_ seem to indicate
           Nuuanu as the residence of the princess.


                             PALE I

                Auhea wale oe, e ka Makani Inu-wai?
                Pa kolonahe i ka ili-kai,
                Hoonui me ka Naulu,
                Na ulu hua i ka hapapa.
            5   Anó au ike i ke ko Hala-li’i,
                I keia wa nana ia Lehua.

                             PALE II

                Aia i Waimea ku’u haku-lei?
                Hui pu me ka wai ula iliahi,
                Mohala ka pua i ke one o Pawene;
           10   Ka lawe a ke Koolau
                Noho pu me ka ua punonohu ula i ka nahele,
                Ike i ka wai kea o Makaweli;
[Page 111]      Ua noho pu i ka nahele
                Me ka lei hinahina o Maka-li’i.
           15   Liilii ka uka o Koae’a;
                Nana i ka ua lani-pili,
                Ka ó-ó, manu le’a o ka nahele.

                I Pa-ie-ie au, noho pu me ke anu.
                E ha’i a’e oe i ka puana:
           20   Ke kahuna kalai-hoe o Puu-ka-Pele.



                            CANTO I

                Whence art thou, thirsty wind,
                That gently kissest the sea,
                Then, wed to the ocean breeze,
                Playest fan with the breadfruit tree?
            5   Here sprawl Hala-lii’s canes,
                There stands bird-haunted Lehua.

                           CANTO II

                My wreath-maker dwells at Waimea.
                Partnered is she to the swirling river;
                They plant with flowers the sandy lea,
           10   While the bearded surf, tossed by the breeze,
                Vaunts on the hills as the sun-bow,
                Looks on the crystal stream Makaweli,
                And in the wildwood makes her abode
                With Hinahina of silvern wreaths.
           15   Koaea’s a speck to the eye,
                Under the low-hanging rain-cloud,
                Woodland home of the plaintive ó-ó.

                From frost-bitten Pa-ie-ie
                I bid you, guess me the fable:
           20   Paddle-maker on Pele’s mount.

           This mele comes from Kauai, an Island in many respects
           individualized from the other parts of the group and that
           seems to have been the nurse of a more delicate imagination
           than was wont to flourish elsewhere. Its tone is archaic, and
           it has the rare merit of not transfusing the more crudely
           erotic human emotions into the romantic sentiments inspired
           by nature.

           The Hawaiians dearly loved fable and allegory. Argument or
           truth, dressed out in such fanciful garb, gained double force
           and acceptance. We may not be able to follow a poet in his
           wanderings; his local allusions may obscure to us much of his
           meaning; the doctrine of his allegory may be to us largely a
           riddle; and the connection between the body of its thought
           and illustration and the application, or solution, of the
           poetical conundrum may be past our comprehension; but the
[Page 112] play of the poet’s fancy, whether childish or mature, is an
           interesting study, and brings us closer in human sympathy to
           the people who took pleasure in such things.

           In translating this poem, while not following literally the
           language of the poet, the aim has been to hit the target
           of his deeper meaning, without hopelessly involving the
           reader in the complexities of Hawaiian color and local
           topography. A few words of explanation must suffice.

           The _Makani Inu-wai_ (verse 1)—known to all the islands—is
           a wind that dries up vegetation, literally a water-drinking

           The _Naulu_ (verse 3) is the ordinary sea-breeze at Waimea,
           Kauai, sometimes accompanied by showers.

           _Hala-li’i_ (verse 5) is a sandy plain on Niihau, and the
           peculiarity of its canes is that they sprawl along on the
           ground, and are often to a considerable extent covered by the
           loose soil.

           _Lehua_ (verse 6) is the well-known bird-island, lying north
           of Niihau and visible from the Waimea side of Kauai.

           The wreath-maker, _haku-lei_ (verse 7), who dwells at Waimea,
           is perhaps the ocean-vapor, or the moist sea-breeze, or, it
           may be, some figment of the poet’s imagination—the author
           can not make out exactly what.

           The _hinahina_ (verse 14), a native geranium, is a mountain
           shrub that stands about 3 feet high, with silver-gray leaves.

           _Maka-weli, Maka-li’i, Koae’a_, and _Pa-ie-ie_ are names of
           places on Kauai.

           _Puu-ka-Pele_ (verse 20) as the name indicates, is a volcanic
           hill, situated near Waimea.

           The key or answer (_puana_), to the allegory given in verse
           20, _Ke kahuna kalai-hoe o Puu-ka-Pele_, the paddle-making
           kahuna of Pele’s mount, when declared by the poet
           (_haku-mele_), is not very informing to the foreign mind; but
           to the Hawaiian auditor it, no doubt, took the place of our
           _haec fabula docet_, and it at least showed that the poet was
           not without an intelligent motive. In the poem in point the
           author acknowledges his inability to make connection between
           it and the body of the song.

           One merit we must concede to Hawaiian poetry, it wastes no
           time in slow approach. The first stroke of the artist places
           the auditor _in medias res_.

[Page 113]

                             XIV.—THE HULA PUÍLI

           The character of a hula was determined to some extent by the
           nature of the musical instrument that was its accompaniment.
           In the hula _puíli_ it certainly seems as if one could
           discern the influence of the rude, but effective, instrument
           that was its musical adjunct. This instrument, the _puíli_
           (fig. 1), consisted of a section of bamboo from which one
           node with its diaphragm had been removed and the hollow
           joint at that end split up for a considerable distance into
           fine divisions, which gave forth a breezy rustling when the
           instrument was struck or shaken.

           The performers, all of them hoopaa, were often placed in two
           rows, seated or kneeling and facing one another, thus
           favoring a responsive action in the use of the puíli as well
           as in the cantillation of the song. One division would
           sometimes shake and brandish their instruments, while the
           others remained quiet, or both divisions would perform at
           once, each individual clashing one puíli against the other
           one held by himself, or against that of his vis-a-vis; or
           they might toss them back and forth to each other, one bamboo
           passing another in mid air.

           [Illustration: FIG. 1.—Puíli, bamboo-rattle.]

           While the hula puíli is undeniably a performance of classical
           antiquity, it is not to be regarded as of great dignity or
           importance as compared with many other hulas. Its character,
           like that of the meles associated with it, is light and

           The mele next presented is by no means a modern production.
           It seems to be the work of some unknown author, a fragment of
           folklore, it might be called by some, that has drifted down
           to the present generation and then been put to service in the
           hula. If hitherto the word _folklore_ has not been used it is
           not from any prejudice against it, but rather from a feeling
           that there exists an inclination to stretch the application
           of it beyond its true limits and to make it include popular
           songs, stories, myths, and the like, regardless of its
           fitness of application. Some writers, no doubt, would apply
           this vague term to a large part of the poetical pieces which
           are given in this book.
[Page 114]
           On the same principle, why should they not apply the term
           folklore to the myths and stories that make up the body of
           Roman and Greek mythology? The present author reserves the
           term folklore for application to those unappropriated scraps
           of popular song, story, myth, and superstition that have
           drifted down the stream of antiquity and that reach us in the
           scrap-bag of popular memory, often bearing in their battered
           forms the evidence of long use.


                Hiki mai, niki mai ka La, e.
                Aloha wale ka La e kau nei,
                Aia malalo o Ka-wai-hoa,[247]
                A ka lalo o Kauai, o Lehua.
            5   A Kauai au, ike i ka pali;
                A Milo-lii[248] pale ka pali loloa.
                E kolo ana ka pali o Makua-iki;[249]
                Kolo o Pu-á, he keiki,
                He keiki makua-ole ke uwe nei.



                It has come, it has come; lo the Sun!
                How I love the Sun that’s on high;
                Below it swims Ka-wai-hoa,
                On the slope inclined from Lehua.
            5   On Kauai met I a pali,
                A beetling cliff that bounds Milo-lii,
                And climbing up Makua-iki,
                Crawling up was Pua, the child,
                An orphan that weeps out its tale.

           The writer has rescued the following fragment from the
           wastebasket of Hawaiian song. A lean-to of modern verse has
           been omitted; it was evidently added within a generation:


                Malua,[250] ki’i wai ke aloha,
                Hoopulu i ka liko mamane.
                Uleuleu mai na manu,
                Inu wai lehua o Panaewa,[251]
            5   E walea ana i ke onaona,
                Ke one wali o Ohele.
[Page 115]      Hele mai nei kou aloha
                A lalawe i ko’u nui kino,
                Au i hookohu ai,
           10   E kuko i ka manao.
                Kuhi no paha oe no Hopoe[252]
                Nei lehua au i ka hana ohi ai.

           [Footnote 247: Kawaihoa. The southern point of Niihau, which is
           to the west of Kauai, the evident standpoint of the poet, and
           therefore “below” Kauai.]

           [Footnote 248: _Milo-lii_. A valley on the northwestern angle
           of Kauai, a precipitous region, in which travel from one
           point to another by land is almost impossible.]

           [Footnote 249: _Makua-iki_. Literally “little father,” a name
           given to an overhanging pali, where was provided a hanging
           ladder to make travel possible. The series of palis in this
           region comes to an end at Milo-lii.]

           [Footnote 250: The _Malua_ was a wind, often so dry that it
           sucked up the moisture from the land and destroyed the tender

           [Footnote 251: Panaewa was a woodland region much talked of in
           poetry and song.]

           [Footnote 252: _Hopoe_ was a beautiful young woman, a friend
           of Hiiaka, and was persecuted by Pele owing to jealousy. One
           of the forms in which she as a divinity showed herself was as
           a lehua tree in full bloom.]



                Malua, fetch water of love,
                Give drink to this mamane bud.
                The birds, they are singing ecstatic,
                Sipping Panaewa’s nectared lehua,
            5   Beside themselves with the fragrance
                Exhaled from the garden Ohele.
                Your love comes to me a tornado;
                It has rapt away my whole body,
                The heart you once sealed as your own,
           10   There planted the seed of desire.
                Thought you ’twas the tree of Hopoe,
                This tree, whose bloom you would pluck?

           What is the argument of this poem? A passion-stricken swain,
           or perhaps a woman, cries to _Malua_ to bring relief to his
           love-smart, to give drink to the parched _mamane_
           buds—emblems of human feeling. In contrast to his own
           distress, he points to the birds caroling in the trees,
           reveling in the nectar of _lehua_ bloom, intoxicated with the
           scent of nature’s garden. What answer does the lovelorn swain
           receive from the nymph he adores? In lines 11 and 12 she
           banteringly asks him if he took her to be like the
           traditional lehua tree of Hopoe, of which men stood in awe as
           a sort of divinity, not daring to pluck its flowers? It is as
           if the woman had asked—if the poet’s meaning is rightly
           interpreted—“Did you really think me plighted to vestal
           vows, a tree whose bloom man was forbidden to pluck?”
[Page 116]

                             XV.—THE HULA KA-LAAU

           The hula _ka-laau_ (_ka_, to strike; _laau_, wood) was named
           from the instruments of wood used in producing the
           accompaniment, a sort of xylophone, in which one piece of
           resonant wood was struck against another. Both divisions of
           the performers, the hoopaa and the olapa, took part and each
           division was provided with the instruments. The cantillation
           was done sometimes by one division alone, sometimes by both
           divisions in unison, or one division would answer the other,
           a responsive chanting that was termed _haawe aku, haawe
           mai_—“to give, to return.”

           Ellis gives a quotable description of this hula, which he
           calls the “hura ka raau:”

           Five musicians advanced first, each, with a staff in his left
           hand, five or six feet long, about three or four inches in
           diameter at one end, and tapering off to a point at the
           other. In his right hand he held a small stick of hard wood,
           six or nine inches long, with which he commenced his music by
           striking the small stick on the larger one, beating time all
           the while with his right foot on a stone placed on the ground
           beside him for that purpose. Six women, fantastically dressed
           in yellow tapas, crowned, with garlands of flowers, having
           also wreaths of native manufacture, of the sweet-scented
           flowers of the _gardenia_, on their necks, and branches of
           the fragrant _mairi_ (another native plant,) bound round
           their ankles, now made their way by couples through the
           crowd, and, arriving at the area, on one side of which the
           musicians stood, began their dance. Their movements were
           slow, and, though not always graceful, exhibited nothing
           offensive to modest propriety. Both musicians and dancers
           alternately chanted songs in honor of former gods and chiefs
           of the islands, apparently much to the gratification of the
           spectators. (Polynesian Researches, by William Ellis, IV,
           78–79, London, 1836.)

           The mele here first presented is said to be an ancient mele
           that has been modified and adapted to the glorification of
           that astute politician, genial companion, and pleasure-loving
           king, Kalakaua.

           It was not an uncommon thing for one chief to appropriate the
           _mele inoa_ of another chief. By substituting one name for
           another, by changing a genealogy, or some such trifle, the
           skin of the lion, so to speak, could be made to cover with
           more or less grace and to serve as an apparel of masquerade
           for the ass, and without interruption so long as there was no
           lion, or lion’s whelp, to do the unmasking.

           The poets who composed the mele for a king have been spoken
           of as “the king’s washtubs.” Mele inoa were not crown-jewels
[Page 117] to be passed from one incumbent of the throne to another. The
           practice of appropriating the mele inoa composed in honor of
           another king and of another line was one that grew up with
           the decadence of honor in times of degeneracy.


                O Kalakaua, he inoa,
                O ka pua mae ole i ka la;
                Ke pua mai la i ka mauna,
                I ke kuahiwi o Mauna-kea;
            5   Ke a la i Ki-lau-e-a,
                Malamalama i Wahine-kapu,
                I ka luna o Uwe-kahuna,
                I ka pali kapu o Ka-au-e-a.
                E a mai ke alii kia-manu;
           10   Ua Wahí i ka hulu o ka mamo,
                Ka pua nani o Hawaii;
                O Ka-la-kaua, he inoa!



                Ka-la-kaua, a great name,
                A flower not wilted by the sun;
                It blooms on the mountains,
                In the forests of Mauna-kea;
            5   It burns in Ki-lau-e-a,
                Illumines the cliff Wahine-kapu,
                The heights of Uwe-kabuna,
                The sacred pali of Ka-au-e-a.
                Shine forth, king of bird-hunters,
           10   Resplendent in plumage of mamo,
                Bright flower of Hawaii:
                Ka-la-kaua, the Illustrious!

           The proper names _Wahine-kapu, Uwe-kahuna_, and _Ka-au-e-a_
           in the sixth, seventh, and eighth verses are localities,
           cliffs, bluffs, precipices, etc., in and about the great
           caldera of Kilauea, following up the mention (in the fifth
           verse) of that giant among the world’s active volcanoes.

           The purpose of the poem seems to be to magnify the prowess of
           this once famous king as a captivator of the hearts and
           loving attentions of the fair sex.


                Kona kai opua[253] i kala i ka la’i;
                Opua hinano ua i ka malie;
                Hiolo na wai naoa a ke kehau,
[Page 118]      Ke’ na-ú[254] la na kamalii,
            5   Ke kaohi la i ke kukuna o ka la;
                Ku’u la koili i ke kai—
                Pumehana wale ia aina!
                Aloha wale ke kini o Hoolulu,
                Aohe lua ia oe ke aloha,
           10   O ku’u puni, o ka me’ owá.

           [Footnote 253: _Opua_ means a distinct cloud-pile, an omen, a

           [Footnote 254: The word _na-ú_ refers to a sportive contest
           involving a trial of lung-power, that was practised by the
           youth of Kona, Hawaii, as well as of other places. They stood
           on the shore at sunset, and as the lower limb of the sun
           touched the ocean horizon each one, having filled his lungs
           to the utmost, began the utterance of the sound _na-u-u-u-u_,
           which he must, according to the rules of the game, maintain
           continuously until the sun had disappeared, a lapse of about
           two minutes’ time. This must be done without taking fresh
           breath. Anyone inhaling more air into his lungs or
           intermitting the utterance of the sound was compelled by the
           umpire to withdraw from the contest and to sit down, while
           anyone who maintained the droning utterance during the
           prescribed time was declared victor. It was no mean trial.]



                The cloud-piles o’er Kona’s sea whet my joy,
                Clouds that drop fain in fair weather.
                The clustered dew-pearls shake to the ground;
                The boys drone out the na-ú to the West,
            5   Eager for Sol to sink to his rest.

                This my day for a plunge in the sea—
                The Sun will be warming other shores—
                Happy the tribes of that land of calm!
                Fathomless, deep is my love
           10   To thee, my passion, my mate.

           The author of this love-song, _mele ipo_, is said to have
           been Kalola, a widow of Kamehameha I, at a time when she was
           an old woman; the place was Lahaina, and the occasion an
           amour between Liholiho (Kamehameha II) and a woman of rank.
           The last two verses of the poem have been omitted from the
           present somewhat free, yet faithful translation, as they do
           not seem to be of interest or pertinent from our point of
           view, and there is internal evidence that they were added as
           an afterthought.

           The hulas on the various islands differed somewhat from one
           another. In general, it may be said that on Kauai they were
           presented with more spirit and in greater variety than in
           other parts of the group. The following account will
           illustrate this fact:

           About the year 1870 the late Queen Emma made the tour of the
           island of Kauai, and at some places the hula was performed as
           a recreation in her honor. The hula ka-laau was thus
           presented; it was marked, however, by such peculiarities as
           to make it hardly recognizable as being the same performance
           as the one elsewhere known by that name. As given on Kauai,
           both the olapa and the hoopaa took part, as they do on the
[Page 119] other islands, but in the Kauai performance the olapa alone
           handled the two sticks of the xylophone, which in other parts
           formed the sole instrument of musical accompaniment to this
           hula. Other striking novelties also were introduced. The
           olapa held between their toes small sticks with which they
           beat upon a resonant beam of wood that lay on the floor, thus
           producing tones of a low pitch. Another departure from the
           usual style of this hula was that the hoopaa, at the same
           time, devoted themselves with the right hand to playing upon
           the pu-niu, the small drum, while with the left they
           developed the deep bass of the pahu. The result of this outre
           combination must have been truly remarkable.

           It is a matter of observation that on the island of Kauai
           both the special features of its spoken language and the
           character of its myths and legends indicate a closer
           relationship to the groups of the southern Pacific, to which
           the Hawaiian people owe their origin, than do those of the
           other islands of the Hawaiian group.
[Page 120]

                         XVI.—THE HULA ÍLI-ÍLI

           The _hula íli-íli_, pebble-dance, was a performance of the
           classical times, in which, according to one who has witnessed
           it, the olapa alone took part. The dancers held in each hand
           a couple of pebbles, _ili-ili_—hence the name of the
           dance—which they managed to clash against each other, after
           the fashion of castanets, thus producing a rude music of much
           the same quality as that elicited from the “bones” in our
           minstrel performances. According to another witness, the drum
           also was sometimes used in connection with the pebbles as an
           accompaniment to this hula.

           The ili-ili was at times a hula of intensity—that is to say,
           was acted with that stress of voice and manner which the
           Hawaiians termed _ai-ha’a_; but it seems to have been more
           often performed in that quiet natural tone of voice and of
           manner termed _ko’i-honua_, which may be likened to utterance
           in low relief.

           The author can present only the fragment of a song to
           illustrate this hula:


                A lalo maua o Wai-pi’o,
                Ike i ka nani o Hi’i-lawe.
                E lawe mai a oki
                I na hala o Naue i ke kai,
            5   I na lehua lu-lu’u pali;
                Noho ana lohe i ke kani o ka o-ó,
                Hoolono aku i ka leo o ke kahuli.



                We twain were lodged in Wai-pi’o,
                Beheld Hi’i-lawe, the grand.
                We brought and cut for our love-wreath
                The rich hala drupe from Naue’s strand,
            5   Tufted lehua that waves on the cliff;
                Then sat and gave ear to song of o-ó,
                Or harked the chirp of the tree-shell.

           _Wai-pi’o_, the scene of this idyl, is a valley deep and
           broad which the elements have scooped out in the windward
           exposure of Hawaii, and scarce needs mention to Hawaiian
[Page 121] tourists. _Hi’i-lawe_ is one of several high waterfalls that
           leap from the world of clouds into the valley-basin.


           _Kahuli_ is a fanciful name applied to the beautiful and
           unique genus of tree-shells (Achatinella), plate XII, that
           inhabit the Hawaiian woods. The natives are persuaded that
           these shells have the power of chirping a song of their own,
           and the writer has often heard the note which they ascribe to
           them; but to his ear it was indistinguishable from the piping
           of the cricket. This is the song that the natives credit to
           the tree-shells:


                Kahuli aku,
                Kahuli mai,
                Kahuli lei ula,
                Lei akolea.[255]
            5   Kolea, kolea,[256]
                Ki’i ka wai,
                Wai akolea.


               _Song of the Tree-shell_

                Trill a-far,
                Trill a-near,
                A dainty song-wreath,
                Wreath akolea.
            5   Kolea, Kolea,
                Fetch me some dew,
                Dew from pink akolea.

           This little piece of rustic imagination is said to have been
           used in the hula, but in connection with what dance the
           author has not been able to learn.

           [Footnote 255: The _akolea_ is a fern (by some classed as a
           Polypodium) which, according to Doctor Hillebrand (Flora of
           the Hawaiian Islands), “sustains its extraordinary length by
           the circinnate tips which twine round the branches of
           neighboring shrubs or trees.”]

           [Footnote 256: _Kolea_. The red-breasted plover.]
[Page 122]

                         XVII.—THE HULA KÁ-ÉKE-ÉKE

           The _kaekeeke_ was a formal hula worthy of high
           consideration. Some authorities assert that the performers in
           this dance were chosen from the hoopaa alone, who, it will be
           remembered, maintained the kneeling position, while,
           according to another authority, the olapa also took part in
           it. There is no reason for doubting the sincerity of both
           these witnesses. The disagreement probably arose from hasty
           generalization. One is reminded of the wise Hawaiian saw,
           already noted, “Do not think that your halau holds all the

           This hula took its name from the simple instrument that
           formed its musical accompaniment. This consisted of a single
           division of the long-jointed bamboo indigenous to Hawaii,
           which was left open at one end. (The varieties of bamboo
           imported from China or the East Indies have shorter joints
           and thicker walls, and will not answer the purpose, being not
           sufficiently resonant.) The joints used in the kaekeeke were
           of different sizes and lengths, thus producing tones of
           various pitch. The performer held one in each hand and the
           tone was elicited by striking the base of the cylinder
           sharply against the floor or some firm, nonresonant body.

           On making actual trial of the kaekeeke, in order to prove by
           experience its musical quality and capabilities, the writer’s
           pleasure was as great as his surprise when he found it
           capable of producing musical tones of great purity and of the
           finest quality. Experiment soon satisfied him that for the
           best production of the tone it was necessary to strike the
           bamboo cylinder smartly upon some firm, inelastic substance,
           such as a bag of sand. The tone produced was of crystalline
           purity, and by varying the size and length of the cylinders
           it proved possible to represent a complete musical scale. The
           instrument was the germ of the modern organ.

           The first mele to be presented partakes of the nature of the
           allegory, a form of composition not a little affected by the


                A Hamakua au,
                Noho i ka ulu hala.
                Malihini au i ka hiki ana,
                I ka ua pe’epe’e pohaku.
            5   Noho oe a li’u-li’u,
                A luli-luli malie iho.
[Page 123]
                He keiki akamai ko ia pali;
                Elima no pua i ka lima.
                Kui oe a lawa
           10   I lei no ku’u aloha;
                Malama malie oe i ka makemake,
                I lei hooheno no ke aloha ole.

                Moe oe a ala mai;
                Nana iho oe i kou pono.
           15   Hai’na ia ka puana:
                Keiki noho pali o Hamakua;
                A waka-waka, a waka-waka.



                It was in Hamakua;
                I sat in a grove of Pandanus,
                A stranger at my arrival,
                A rock was my shelter from rain.
            5   I found it a wearisome wait,
                Cautiously shifting about.

                There’s a canny son of the cliff
                That has five buds to his hand.
                You shall twine me a wreath of due length,
           10   A wreath to encircle my love,
                Whilst you hold desire in strong curb,
                Till love-touch thaws the cold-hearted.

                When you rise from sleep on the mat,
                Look down, see the conquest of love.
           15   The meaning of this short story?
                What child fondly clings to the cliff?
                Waka-waka, the shell-fish.

           The scene of this idyl, this love-song, _mele hoipoipo_, is
           Hamakua, a district on the windward side of Hawaii, subject
           to rain-squalls. The poet in his allegory represents himself
           as a stranger sitting in a pandanus grove, _ulu hala_ (verse
           2); sheltering himself from a rain-squall by crouching behind
           a rock, _ua pe’epe’e pohaku_ (verse 4); shifting about on
           account of the veering of the wind, _luli-luli malie iho_
           (verse 6). Interpreting this figuratively, Hamakua, no doubt,
           is the woman in the case; the grove an emblem of her
           personality and physical charms; the rain-squall, of her
           changeful moods and passions. The shifting about of the
           traveler to meet the veering of the wind would seem to mean
           the man’s diplomatic efforts to deal with the woman’s varying
           caprices and outbursts.

           He now takes up a parable about some creature, a child of the
           cliff—Hamakua’s ocean boundary is mostly a precipitous
           wall—which he represents as a hand with five buds.
           Addressing it as a servant, he bids this creature twine a
[Page 124] wreath sufficient for his love, _kui oe a_ _lawa_ (verse 9),
           _I lei no ku’u aloha_ (verse 10). This creature with five
           buds, what is it but the human hand, the errand-carrier of
           man’s desire, _makemake_ (verse 11)? The _pali_, by the way,
           is a figure often used by Hawaiian poets to mean the glory
           and dignity of the human body.

           That is a fine imaginative touch in which the poet
           illustrates the power of the human hand to kindle love in one
           that is cold-hearted, as if he had declared the hand itself
           to be not only the wreath-maker, but the very wreath that is
           to encircle and warm into response the unresponsive loved
           one, _I lei hooheno no ke aloha ole_ (verse 12).

           Differences of physical environment, of social convention, of
           accepted moral and esthetic standards interpose seemingly
           impassable barriers between us and the savage mind, but at
           the touch of an all-pervading human sympathy these barriers
           dissolve into very thin air.


                Kahiki-nui, auwahi[257] ka makani!
                Nana aku au ia Kona,
                Me ke kua lei ahi[258] la ka moku;
                Me ke lawa uli e, la, no
            5   Ku’u kai pa-ú hala-ká[259]
                I ka lae o Hana-maló;[260]
                Me he olohe ili polohiwa,
                Ke ku a mauna,
                Ma ka ewa lewa[261] Hawaii.
           10   Me he ihu leiwi la, ka moku,
                Kou mauna, kou palamoa:[262]
                Kau a waha mai Mauna-kea[263]
                A me Mauna-loa,[263]
                Ke ku a Maile-hahéi.[264]
           15   Uluna mai Mauna Kilohana[265]
                I ka poohiwi o Hu’e-Hu’e.[265]

           [Footnote 257: _Auwahi_ (a word not found in any dictionary)
           is said by a scholarly Hawaiian to be an archaic form of the
           word _uwahi_, or _uahi_ (milk of fire), smoke, _Kahiki-nui_
           is a dry region and the wind (_makani_) often fills the air
           with dust.]

           [Footnote 258: _Kua lei ahi_. No Hawaiian has been found who
           professes to know the true meaning of these words. The
           translation of them here given is, therefore, purely formal.]

           [Footnote 259: _Pa-ú halaká_. An expression sometimes applied
           to the hand when used as a shield to one’s modesty; here it
           is said of the ocean (_kai_) when one’s body is immersed in

           [Footnote 260: _Hana-maló_. A cape that lies between Kawaihae
           and Kailua in north Kona.]

           [Footnote 261: _Ewa lewá_. In this reading the author has
           followed the authoritative suggestion of a Hawaiian expert,
           substituting it for that first given by another, which was
           _elewa_. The latter was without discoverable meaning. Even as
           now, given conjectures as to its meaning are at variance. The
           one followed presents the less difficulty.]

           [Footnote 262: _Palamoa_. The name of a virulent _kupua_ that
           acted as errand-carrier and agent for sorcerers (_kahuna
           ánaaná_); also the name of a beautiful grass found on Hawaii
           that has a pretty red seed. Following the line of least
           resistance, the latter meaning has been adopted; in it is
           found a generic expression for the leafy covering of the

           [Footnote 263: _Mauna-kea_ and _Mauna-loa_. The two well-known
           mountains of the big island of Hawaii.]

           [Footnote 264: _Maile-hahei_. Said to be a hill in Kona.]

           [Footnote 265: _Kilohana_ and _Hu’e-hu’e_. The names of two
           hills in Kona, Hawaii.]

[Page 125]



                Kahiki-nui, land of wind-driven smoke!
                Mine eyes gaze with longing on Kona;
                A fire-wreath glows aback of the district,
                And a robe of wonderful green
            5   Lies the sea that has aproned my loins
                Off the point of Hana-malo.
                A dark burnished form is Hawaii,
                To one who stands on the mount—
                A hamper swung down from heaven,
           10   A beautiful carven shape is the island—
                Thy mountains, thy splendor of herbage:
                Mauna-kea and Loa stand (in glory) apart,
                To him who looks from Maile-hahéi;
                And Kilohana pillows for rest
           15   On the shoulder of Hu’e-hu’e.

           This love-song—_mele hoipoipo_—which would be the
           despair of a strict literalist—what is it all about? A
           lover in Kahiki-nui—of the softer sex, it would appear—
           looks across the wind-swept channel and sends her thoughts
           lovingly, yearningly, over to Kona of Hawaii, which district
           she personifies as her lover. The mountains and plains,
           valleys and capes of its landscapes, are to her the parts and
           features of her beloved. Even in the ocean that flows between
           her and him, and which has often covered her nakedness as
           with a robe, she finds a link in the chain of association.
[Page 126]

                             XVIII.—AN INTERMISSION

           During the performance of a hula the halau and all the people
           there assembled are under a tabu, the imposition of which was
           accomplished by the opening prayer that had been offered
           before the altar. This was a serious matter and laid everyone
           present under the most formal obligations to commit no breach
           of divine etiquette; it even forbade the most innocent
           remarks and expressions of emotion. But when the performers,
           wearied of the strait-jacket, determined to unbend and
           indulge in social amenities, to lounge, gossip, and sing
           informal songs, to quaff a social bowl of awa, or to indulge
           in an informal dance, they secured the opportunity for this
           interlude, by suspending the tabu. This was accomplished by
           the utterance of a _pule hoo-noa_, a tabu-lifting prayer. If
           the entire force of the tabu was not thus removed, it was at
           least so greatly mitigated that the ordinary conversations of
           life might be carried on without offense. The pule was
           uttered by the kumu or some person who represented the

                _Pule Hoo-noa_

                Lehua[266] i-luna,
                Lehua i-lalo,
                A wawae,
                A Ka-ulua,[267]
            5   A o Haumea,[268]
                Kou makua-kane,[269]
                Manu o Kaáe;[270]
                O Pe-kau,[271]
           10   O Pe-ka-nana,[272]
[Page 127]      Papa pau.
                Pau a’e iluna;
                O Ku-mauna,
                A me Laka,
           15   A me Ku.
                Ku i ka wao,
                A me Hina,
                Huna mele-lani.
                A ua pau;
           20   Pau kakou;
                A ua noa;
                Noa ke kahua;

           [Footnote 266: _Lehua_. See plate XIII.]

           [Footnote 267: _Ka-ulua_. The name of the third month of the
           Hawaiian year, corresponding to late January or February, a
           time when In the latitude of Hawaii nature does not refrain
           from leafing and flowering.]

           [Footnote 268: _Haumea_. The name applied after her death and
           apotheosis to Papa, the wife of Wakea, and the ancestress of
           the Hawaiian race. (The Polynesian Race, A. Fornander, 1,
           205. London, 1878.)]

           [Footnote 269: It is doubtful to whom the expression
           “makua-kane” refers, possibly to Wakea, the husband of Papa;
           and if so, very properly termed father, ancestor, of the

           [Footnote 270: _Manu o Kaáe_ (_Manu-o-Kaáe_ it might be
           written) is said to have been a goddess, one of the family of
           Pele, a sister of the sea nymph _Moana-nui-ka-lehua_,
           whose dominion was in the waters between Oahu and Kauai. She
           is said to have had the gift of eloquence.]

           [Footnote 271: _Pe-káu_ refers to the ranks and classes of the

           [Footnote 272: _Pe-ka-naná_ refers to men, their ranks and



                    _Power to Remove Tabu_

                Bloom of lehua on altar piled,
                Bloom of lehua below,
                Bloom of lehua at altar’s base,
                In the month Ka-ulua.
            5   Present here is Haumea,
                And the father of thee,
                And the goddess of eloquent speech;
                Gather, now gather,
                Ye ranks of gods,
           10   And ye ranks of men,
                Complete in array.
                The heavenly service is done,
                Service of Ku of the mount,
                Service of Laka,
           15   And the great god Ku,
                Ku of the wilds,
                And of Hina,
                Hina, the heavenly singer.
                Now it is done,
           20   Our work is done;
                The tabu is lifted,
                Free is the place,

           Here also is another pule hoo-noa, a prayer-song addressed to
           Laka, an intercession for the lifting of the tabu. It will be
           noticed that the request is implied, not explicitly stated.
           All heads are lifted, all eyes are directed heavenward or to
           the altar, and the hands with a noiseless motion keep time as
           the voices of the company, led by the kumu, in solemn
           cantillation, utter the following prayer:
[Page 128]

                   _Pule Hoo-noa no Laka_

                Pupu we’u-we’u[273] e, Láka e,
                O kona we’u-we’u e ku-wá;[274]
                O Ku-ka-ohia-Laká,[275] e;
                Laua me Ku-pulu-pulu;[276]
            5   Ka Lehua me ke Koa lau-lii;
                O ka Lama me Moku-halii,
                Kú-i-kú-i[277] me ka Hala-pepe;
                Lakou me Lau-ka-ie-ie,
                Ka Palai me Maile-lau-lii.
           10   Noa, noa i kou kuahu;
                Noa, noa ia oe, Làka;
                Pa-pá-lùa noa!


                  _Tabu-lifting Prayer (to Laka)_

                Oh wildwood bouquet, O Láka!
                Set her greenwood leaves in order due;
                And Ku, god of Ohia-La-ká,
                He and Ku, the shaggy,
            5   Lehua with small-leafed Koa,
                And Lama and Moku-hali’i,
                Kú-i-kú-i and Hála-pé-pé;
                And with these leafy I-e-i-e,
                Fern and small-leafed Maile.
           10   Free, the altar is free!
                Free through, you, Laka,
                Doubly free!

           [Footnote 273: _Pupu we’u-we’u_. A bouquet. The reference is to
           the wreaths and floral decorations that bedecked the altar,
           and that were not only offerings to the goddess, but symbols
           of the diverse forms in which she manifested herself. At the
           conclusion of a performance the players laid upon the altar
           the garlands they themselves had worn. These were in addition
           to those which were placed there before the play began.]

           [Footnote 274: _Ku-wá_. It has cost much time and trouble to
           dig out the meaning of this word. The fundamental notion is
           that contained in its two parts, _ku_, to stand, and _wa_, an
           interval or space, the whole meaning to arrange or set in
           orderly intervals.]

           [Footnote 275: _La-ká_. A Tahitian name for the tree which in
           Hawaii is called _lehua_, or _ohia_. In verse 3 the Hawaiian
           name _ohia_ and the Tahitian _laká_ (accented on the final
           syllable, thus distinguishing it from the name of the goddess
           _Láka_, with which it has no discoverable connection) are
           combined in one form as an appellation of the god
           _Ku-ku-ka-ohia-Laká_. This is a notable instance of the
           survival of a word as a sacred epithet in a liturgy, which
           otherwise, had been lost to the language.]

           [Footnote 276: _Ku-pulu-pulu_. Ku, the fuzzy or shaggy, a deity
           much worshiped by canoe-makers, represented as having the
           figure of an old man with a long beard. In the sixth verse
           the full form of the god’s name here given as _Moku-ha-li’i_
           would be _Ku-moku-hali’i_, the last part being an epithet
           applied to _Ku_ working in another capacity. _Moku-hali’i_ is
           the one who bedecks the island. His special emblem, as here
           implied, was the _lama_, a beautiful tree, whose wood was
           formerly used in making certain sacred inclosures. From this
           comes the proper name _Palama_, one of the districts of

           [Footnote 277: _Kú-i-kú-i_. The same as the tree now called
           _ku-kú-i_, the tree whose nuts were used as candles and
           flambeaus. The Samoan name of the same tree is _tú-i-tú-i_.]

           But even now, when the tabu has been removed and the assembly
           is supposed to have assumed an informal character, before
           they may indulge themselves in informalities, there remains
           to be chanted a dismissing prayer, _pule hooku’u_, in which
           all voices must join:
[Page 129]

                            _Pule Hooku’u_

                Ku ka makaia a ka huaka’i moe ipo;[278]
                Ku au, hele;
                Noho oe, aloha!
                Aloha na hale o makou i makamaka ole,
            5   Ke alanui hele mauka o Huli-wale,[279] la;
                E huli a’e ana i ka makana,
                I ke alana ole e kanaenae aku ia oe.
                Eia ke kanaenae, o ka leo.


                           _Dismissing Prayer_

                Doomed sacrifice I in the love-quest,
                I stand [loin-girt][280] for the journey;
                To you who remain, farewell!
                Farewell to our homes forsaken.
            5   On the road beyond In-decision,
                I turn me about—
                Turn me about, for lack of a gift,
                An offering, intercession, for thee—
                My sole intercession, the voice.

           [Footnote 278: A literal translation of the first line would be
           as follows: (Here) stands the doomed sacrifice for the
           journey in search of a bed-lover.]

           [Footnote 279: _Huli-wale_. To turn about, here used as the
           name of a place, is evidently intended figuratively to stand
           for mental indecision.]

           [Footnote 280: The bracketed phrase is not in the text of the

           This fragment—two fragments, in fact, pieced
           together—belongs to the epic of Pele. As her little sister,
           Hiiaka, is about to start on her adventurous journey to bring
           the handsome Prince Lohiau from the distant island of Kauai
           she is overcome by a premonition of Pele’s jealousy and
           vengeance, and she utters this intercession.

           The formalities just described speak for themselves. They
           mark better than any comments can do the superstitious
           devotion of the old-timers to formalism, their remoteness
           from that free touch of social and artistic pleasure, the
           lack of which we moderns often lament in our own lives and
           sigh for as a lost art, conceiving it to have been once the
           possession of “the children of nature.”

           The author has already hinted at the form and character of
           the entertainments with which hula-folk sometimes beguiled
           their professional interludes. Fortunately the author is able
           to illustrate by means of a song the very form of
           entertainment they provided for themselves on such an
           occasion. The following mele, cantillated with an
           accompaniment of expressive gesture, is one that was actually
           given at an awa-drinking bout indulged in by hula-folk. The
           author has an account of its recital at Kahuku, island of
           Oahu, so late as the year 1849, during a circuit of that
[Page 130] island made by King Kamehameha III. This mele is reckoned as
           belonging to the ordinary repertory of the hula; but to which
           particular form of the dance it was devoted has not been


                Ua ona o Kane i ka awa;
                Ua kau ke kéha[281] i ka uluna;
                Ua hi’o-lani[282] i ka moena.
                Kipú mai la i ke kapa o ka noe.
            5   Noe-noe na hokú o ka lani—
                Imo-imo mai la i ka po a’e-a’e.
                Mahana-lua[283] na kukui a Lanikaula,[274]
                He kaula no Kane.[285]
                Meha na pali o Wai-pi’o
           10   I ke kani mau o Kiha-pú;
                A ono ole ka awa a ke alii
                I ke kani mau o Kiha-pú;
                Moe ole kona po o ka Hooilo;
                Uluhua, a uluhua,
           15   I ka mea nana e huli a loaa
                I kela kupua ino i ka pali,
                Olali la, a olali.



                Kane is drunken with awa;
                His head is laid on the pillow;
                His body stretched on the mat.
                A trumpet sounds through the fog,
            5   Dimmed are the stars in the sky;
                When the night is clear, how they twinkle!
                Lani-kaula’s torches look double,
                The torches that burn for Kane.
                Ghostly and drear the walls of Waipio
           10   At the endless blasts of Kiha-pú.
                The king’s awa fails to console him;
                ’Tis the all-night conching of Kiha-pú.
                Broken his sleep the whole winter;
                Downcast and sad, sad and downcast,
           15   At loss to find a brave hunter
                Shall steal the damned conch from the cliff.
                Look, how it gleams [through the fog]!

           [Footnote 281: _Kéha_ is an elegant expression for the side of
           the head.]

           [Footnote 282: _Hi’o-lani_, literally to turn the side to
           heaven, is a classic expression of refinement.]

           [Footnote 283: _Mahana-lua_, literally to see double, was an
           accepted test of satisfactory drunkenness. It reminds the
           author of an expression he once heard used by the comedian
           Clarke in the play of Toodles. While in a maudlin state from
           liquor he spoke of the lighted candle that was in his hand as
           a “double-barreled candle.”]

           [Footnote 284: _Lani-kaula_ was a prophet who lived on Molokai
           at a place that still bears his name. He had his residence in
           the midst of a grove of fine kukui trees, the remnants of
           which remain to this day. Torches made from the nuts of these
           trees were supposed to be of superior quality and they
           furnished the illumination for the revelries of Kane and his

           [Footnote 285: _He kaula no Kane_. A literal translation would
           be, a prophet of Kane.]


[Page 131]

           Kane, the chief god of the Hawaiian pantheon, in company with
           other immortals, his boon companions, met in revelry on the
           heights bounding Wai-pi’o valley. With each potation of awa
           they sounded a blast upon their conch-shells, and the racket
           was almost continuous from the setting of the sun until
           drowsiness overcame them or the coming of day put an end to
           their revels.

           The tumult of sound made it impossible for the priests to
           perform acceptably the offices of religion, and the pious
           king, Liloa, was distressed beyond measure. The whole valley
           was disturbed and troubled with forebodings at the suspension
           of divine worship.

           The chief offender was Kane himself. The trumpet which he
           held to his lips was a conch of extraordinary size (pl. XIV)
           and credited with a divine origin and the possession of
           supernatural power; its note was heard above all the others.
           This shell, the famed Kiha-pú, had been stolen from the heiau
           of Paka’a-lána, Liloa’s temple in Waipi’o valley, and after
           many adventures had come into the hands of god Kane, who used
           it, as we see, for the interruption of the very services that
           were intended for his honor.

           The relief from this novel and unprecedented situation came
           from an unexpected quarter. King Liloa’s awa-patches were
           found to be suffering from the nocturnal visits of a thief. A
           watch was set; the thief proved to be a dog, Puapua-lenalena,
           whose master was a confirmed awa-toper. When master and dog
           were brought into the presence of King Liloa, the shrewd
           monarch divined the remarkable character of the animal, and
           at his suggestion the dog was sent on the errand which
           resulted in the recovery by stealth of the famed conch
           Kiha-pú. As a result of his loss of the conch, Kane put an
           end to his revels, and the valley of Wai-pi’o again had

           This mele is an admirable specimen of Hawaiian poetry, and
           may be taken as representative of the best product of
           Hawaii’s classical period. The language is elegant and
           concise, free from the redundancies that so often load down
           Hawaiian compositions. No one, it is thought, will deny to
           the subject-matter of this mele an unusual degree of

           There is a historic side to the story of the conch-shell
           Kiha-pú. Not many years ago the Hawaiian Museum contained an
           ethnological specimen of great interest, the conch-shell
           Kiha-pú. It was fringed, after the fashion of a witch-doll,
           with strings, beads, and wampumlike bits of mother-of-pearl,
           and had great repute as a _kupua_ or luckbringer. King
           Kalakaua, who affected a sentimental leaning to the notions
           of his mother’s race, took possession of this famous “curio”
           and it disappeared from public view.

[Page 132]

                             XIX.—THE HULA NIAU-KANI

           The hula _niau-kani_ was one of the classic dances of the
           halau, and took its name from the musical instrument that was
           its accompaniment. This was a simple, almost extemporaneous,
           contrivance, constructed, like the Jew’s-harp, on the
           principle of a reed instrument. It was made of two parts, a
           broad piece of bamboo with a longitudinal slit at one end and
           a thin narrow piece of the same material, the reed, which was
           held firmly against the fenestra on the concave side of part
           number one. The convexity of the instrument was pressed
           against the lips and the sound was produced by projecting
           the breath through the slit in a speaking or singing tone in
           such a way as to cause vibrations in the reed. The manner of
           constructing and operating this reed instrument is suggestive
           of the jew’s-harp. It is asserted by those who should know
           that the niau-kani was an instrument of purely Hawaiian

           The performer did not depend simply upon the musical tone,
           but rather upon the modification it produced in the
           utterances that were strained through it. It would certainly
           require a quick ear, much practice, and a thorough
           acquaintance with the peculiarities of Hawaiian mele to
           enable one to distinguish the words of a song after being
           transformed by passage through the niau-kani.

           As late as about thirty or forty years ago the niau-kani was
           often seen in the hands of the native Hawaiian youth, who
           used it as a means of romantic conversations and flirtation.
           Since the coming in of the Portuguese and their importation
           of the _uku-lele_, the _taro-patch-fiddle_, and other cheap
           stringed instruments, the niau-kani has left the field to
           them and disappeared.

           The author’s informant saw the niau-kani dance performed some
           years ago at Moana-lua, near Honolulu, and again on the
           island of Kauai. The dance in each case was the same. The
           kumu, aided by a pupil, stood and played on the niau-kani,
           straining the cantillations through the reed-protected
           aperture, while the olapa, girls, kept time to the music with
           the movements of their dancing,

[Page 133]


                E pi’i ka wai ka nahele,
                U’ina, nakolo i na Molo-kama;[286]
                Ka ua lele mawaho o Mamala-hoa.
                He manao no ko’u e ike
            5   I na pua ohi’a o Kupa-koili,[287]
                I hoa kaunu no Manu’a-kepa;[288]
                Ua like laua me Maha-moku.[289]
                Anapa i ke kai o Mono-lau.[290]
                Lalau ka lima a noa ia ia la,
           10   I hoa pili no Lani-huli.[291]
                E huli oe i ku’u makemake,
                A loa’a i Kau-ka-opua.[292]
                Elua no pua kau
                A ka manao i makemake ai.
           15   Hoohihi oe a hihi
                I lei kohu no neia kino.
                Ahea oe hiki mai?
                A kau ka La i na pali;[293]
                Ka huli a ka makani Wai-a-ma’o,[294]
           20   Makemake e iki ia ka Hala-mapu-ana,
                Ka wai halana i Wai-pá.[295]

           NOTE.—The proper names belong to localities along the course
           of the Wai-oli stream.

           [Footnote 286: _Molokama_ (more often given as _Na Molo-kama_).
           The name applied to a succession of falls made by the stream
           far up in the mountains. The author has here used a
           versifier’s privilege, compressing this long word into
           somewhat less refractory shape.]

           [Footnote 287: _Kupa-koili_. A grove of mountain-apples, _ohia
           ai_, that stand on the bank of the stream not far from the
           public road.]

           [Footnote 288: _Manu’a-kepa_. A sandy, grass-covered meadow on
           the opposite side of the river from Kupa-koili.]

           [Footnote 289: _Maha-moku_. A sandy beach near the mouth of the
           river, on the same bank as Manu’a-kepa.]

           [Footnote 290: _Mono-lau_. That part of the bay into which the
           river flows, that is used as an anchorage for vessels.]

           [Footnote 291: _Lani-huli_. The side of the valley Kilauea of
           Wai-oli toward which the river makes a bend before it enters
           the ocean.]

           [Footnote 292: _Kau-ka-opua_. Originally a phrase meaning “the
           cloud-omen hangs,” has come to be used as the proper name of
           a place. It is an instance of a form of personification often
           employed by the Hawaiians, in which words having a specific
           meaning—such, for instance, as our “jack-in-the-box”—have
           come to be used as a noun for the sake of the meaning wrapped
           up in the etymology. This figure of speech is, no doubt,
           common to all languages, markedly so in the Hawaiian. It may
           be further illustrated by the Hebrew name Ichabod—“his glory
           has departed.”]

           [Footnote 293: _A kau ka La, i na pali_. When stands the sun
           o’er the pali, evening or late in the afternoon. On this part
           of Kauai the sun sets behind the mountains.]

           [Footnote 294: _Wai-a-ma’o_. The land-breeze, which sometimes
           springs up at night.]

           [Footnote 295: _Wai-pá_. A spot on the bank of the stream where
           grew a pandanus tree, _hala_, styled _Ka-hala-mapu-ana_, the



                Up to the streams in the wildwood,
                Where rush the falls Molo-kama,
                While the rain sweeps past Mala-hoa,
                I had a passion to visit
            5   The forest of bloom at Koili,
[Page 134]      To give love-caress to Manu’a,
                And her neighbor Maha-moku,
                And see the waters flash at Mono-lau;
                My hand would quiet their rage,
           10   Would sidle and touch Lani-huli.
                Grant me but this one entreaty,
                We’ll meet ’neath the omens above.
                Two flowers there are that bloom
                In your garden of being;
           15   Entwine them into a garland,
                Fit emblem and crown of our love.
                And what the hour of your coming?
                When stands the Sun o’er the pali,
                When turns the breeze of the land,
           20   To breathe the perfume of hala,
                While the currents swirl at Wai-pá.

           This mele is the language of passion, a song in which the
           lover frankly pours into the ear of his inamorata the story
           of his love up to the time of his last enthrallment. Verses
           11, 12, and 17 are the language of the woman. The scene is
           laid in the rainy valley of Hanalei, Kauai, a broad and deep
           basin, to the finishing of which the elements have
           contributed their share. The rush and roar of the waters that
           unite to form the river Wai-oli, from their wild tumbling in
           the falls of Molo-kama till they pass the river’s mouth and
           mingle with the flashing waves of the ocean at Mono-lau,
           _Anapa i ke kai o Mono-lau_ (verse 8), are emblematic of the
           man’s passion and his quest for satisfaction.


[Page 135]

                               XX.—THE HULA OHE

           The action of the hula _ohe_ had some resemblance to one of
           the figures of the Virginia reel. The dancers, ranged in two
           parallel rows, moved forward with an accompaniment of
           gestures until the head of each row had reached the limit in
           that direction, and then, turning outward to right and left,
           countermarched in the same manner to the point of starting,
           and so continued to do. They kept step and timed their
           gestures and movements to the music of the bamboo nose-flute,
           the _ohe_.

           In a performance of this hula witnessed by an informant the
           chorus of dancers was composed entirely of girls, while the
           kumu operated the nose-flute and at the same time led the
           cantillation of the mele. This seemed an extraordinary
           statement, and the author challenged the possibility of a
           person blowing with the nose into a flute and at the same
           time uttering words with the mouth. The Hawaiian asserted,
           nevertheless, that, the leader of the hula, the kumu, did
           accomplish these two functions; yet his answer did not remove
           doubt that they were accomplished jointly and at the same
           time. The author is inclined to think that the kumu performed
           the two actions alternately.

           The musical range of the nose-flute was very limited; it had
           but two or, at the most, three stops. The player with his
           left hand held the flute to the nostril, at the same time
           applying a finger of the same hand to keep the other nostril
           closed. With the fingers of his right hand he operated the
           stops (pl. xv).


                E pi’ i ka nahele,
                E ike ia Ka-wai-kini,[296]
                Nana ia Pihaua-ka-lani,[297]
[Page 136]      I kela manu hulu ma’e-ma’e,[298]
            5   Noho pu me Ka-hale-lehua,
                Punahele ia Kaua-kahi-alii.[299]
                E Kaili,[300] e Kaili, e!
                E Kaili, lau o ke koa,
                E Kaili, lau o ke koa,
           10   Moopuna a Hooipo-i-ka-Malanai,[301]
                Hiwa-hiwa a ka Lehua-wehe![302]
                Aia ka nani i Wai-ehu,
                I ka wai kaili puuwai o ka makemake.
                Makemake au i ke kalukalu o Kewá,[303]
           15   E he’e ana i ka nalu o Maka-iwa.
                He iwa-iwa oe na ke aloha,
                I Wai-lua nui hoano.
                Ano-ano ka hale, aohe kanaka,
                Ua la’i oe no ke one o Ali-ó.
           20   Aia ka ipo i ka nahele.

           [Footnote 296: _Ka-wai-kini_. The name of a rocky bluff that
           stands on the side of Mount Wai-ale-ale, looking to Wailua.
           It as said to divide the flow from the great morass, the
           natural reservoir formed by the hollow at the top of the
           mountain, turning a part of it in the direction of Wai-niha,
           a valley not far from Hanalei, which otherwise would, it is
           said by Hawaiians, go to swell the stream that forms the
           Wailua river. This rock, in the old times, was regarded as a
           demigod, a _kupua_, and had a lover who resided in Wai-lua,
           also another who resided in the mountains. The words in the
           first two or three verses may be taken as if they were the
           utterance of this Wai-lua lover, saying “I will go up and see
           my sweetheart Ka-wai-kini.”]

           [Footnote 297: _Pihana-ka-lani_. Literally, the fullness of
           heaven. This was a forest largely of lehua that covered the
           mountain slope below Ka-wai-kini. It seems as if the purpose
           of its mention was to represent the beauties and charms of
           the human body. In this romantic region lived the famous
           mythological princes—_alii kupua_, the Hawaiians called
           them—named _Kaua-kahi-alii_ and _Aiwohi-kupua_, with their
           princess sister _Ka-hale-lehua_. The second name mentioned
           was the one who married the famous heroine of the romantic
           story of _Laie-i-ka-wai_.]

           [Footnote 298: _Manu hulu ma’ema’e_. An allusion to the great
           number of plumage birds that were reputed to be found in this

           [Footnote 299: _Puna-hele ia Kaua-kahi-alii_. The birds of the
           region are said to have been on very intimate and friendly
           terms with Kaua-kahi-alii. (See note _b_, p. 135.)]

           [Footnote 300: _Kaili_. The full form is said to be
           _Ka-ili-lau-o-ke-koa_—Skin-like-the-leaf-of-the-koa. In the
           text of the mele this name is analyzed into its parts and
           written as if the phrase at the end were an appellative and
           not an integral part of the name itself. This was a mythical
           character of unusual beauty, a person of superhuman power,
           _kupua_, a mistress of the art of surf-riding, which passion
           she indulged in the waters about Wai-lua.]

           [Footnote 301: _Hooipo-i-ka-Malanai_. A mythical princess of
           Wailua, the grandmother of Kaili. This oft-quoted phrase,
           literally meaning to make love in the (gently-blowing)
           trade-wind, has become almost a stock expression, standing
           for romantic love, or love-making.]

           [Footnote 302: _Lehua-wehe_. The piece of ocean near the mouth
           of the Wailua river in which Kaili indulged her passion for

           [Footnote 303: _Kalu-kalu o Kewá_. _Kalu-kalu_ may mean a
           species of soft, smooth grass specially fitted for sliding
           upon, which flourished on the inclined plain of Kewá, Kauai.
           One would sit upon a mat, the butt end of a coconut leaf, or
           a sled, while another dragged it along. The Hawaiian name for
           this sport is _pahe’e_. _Kalu-kalu_ is also the name applied
           to “a very thin gauze-like kapa.” (See Andrews’s Hawaiian
           Dictionary.) If we suppose the poet to have clearly intended
           the first meaning, the figure does not tally with the
           following verse, the fifteenth. Verses 14 and 15 would thus
           be made to read:

                I desire the kalu-kalu (grass) of Kewá,
                That is riding the surf of Maka-iwa.

           This is an impossible figure and makes no sense. If, on the
           other hand, we take another version and conceive that the
           bard had in mind the gauze-like robe of _kalu-kalu_—using
           this, of course, as a figure for the person clad in such a
           robe—the rendering I have given,

                I pine for the sylph, robed in gauze,
                Who rides the surf Maka-iwa,

           would not only make a possible, but a poetic, picture. Let
           the critical reader judge which of these two versions hits
           closer to common sense and probability.]



                Come up to the wildwood, come;
                Let us visit Wai-kini,
                And gaze on Pihána-ka-lani,
[Page 137]      Its birds of plumage so fine;
            5   Be comrade to Hale-lehua,
                Soul-mate to Kau’kahi-alii.
                O, Kaili, Kaili!
                Kaili, leaf of the koa,
                Graceful as leaf of the koa,
           10   Granddaughter of goddess,
                Whose name is the breath of love,
                Darling of blooming Lehua.
                My lady rides with the gray foam,
                On the surge that enthralls the desire.
           15   I pine for the sylph robed in gauze,
                Who rides on the surf Maka-iwa—
                Aye, cynosure thou of all hearts,
                In all of sacred Wailua.
                Forlorn and soul-empty the house;
           20   You pleasure on the beach Ali-ó;
                Your love is up here in the wildwood.

           This mele hoipoipo, love-song, like the one previously given,
           is from Kauai. The proper names that abound in it, whether of
           places, of persons, or of winds, seem to have been mostly of
           Kauaian origin, furnished by its topography, its myths and
           legends. They have, however, become the common property of
           the whole group through having been interwoven in the
           national songs that pass current from island to island.
[Page 138]


           A bird is easier captured than the notes of a song. The
           _mele_ and _oli_ of Hawaii’s olden time have been preserved
           for us; but the music to which they were chanted, a less
           perdurable essence, has mostly exhaled. In the sudden
           transition from the tabu system to the new order of things
           that came in with the death of Kamehameha in 1819, the old
           fashion of song soon found itself antiquated and
           outdistanced. Its survival, so far as it did survive, was
           rather as a memorial and remembrance of the past than as a
           register of the living emotions of the present.

           The new music, with its _pa, ko, li_—answering to our do,
           re, mi[304]—was soon in everybody’s mouth. From the first it
           was evidently destined to enact a role different from that of
           the old cantillation; none the less the musical ideas that
           came in with it, the air of freedom from tabu and priestcraft
           it breathed, and the diatonic scale, the highway along which
           it marched to conquest, soon produced a noticeable reaction
           in all the musical efforts of the people. This new seed, when
           it had become a vigorous plant, began to push aside the old
           indigenous stock, to cover it with new growths, and,
           incredible as it may seem, to inoculate it with its own
           pollen, thus producing a cross which to-day is accepted in
           certain quarters as the genuine article of Hawaiian song.
           Even now, the people of northwestern America are listening
           with demonstrative interest to songs which they suppose to be
           those of the old hula, but which in reality have no more
           connection with that institution than our negro minstrelsy
           has to do with the dark continent.

           [Footnote 304: The early American missionaries to Hawaii named
           the musical notes of the scale _pa, ko, li, ha, no, la, mi_.]

           The one regrettable fact, from a historical point of view, is
           that a record was not made of indigenous Hawaiian song before
           this process of substitution and adulteration had begun. It
           is no easy matter now to obtain the data for definite
           knowledge of the subject.

           While the central purpose of this chapter will be a study of
           the music native to old Hawaii, and especially of that
           produced in the halau, Hawaiian music of later times and of
           the present day can not be entirely neglected; nor will it be
           without its value for the indirect light it will shed on
           ancient conditions and on racial characteristics. The
           reaction that has taken place in Hawaii within historic times
           in response to the stimulus from abroad can not fail to be of
[Page 139] interest in itself.

           There is a peculiarity of the Hawaiian speech which can not
           but have its effect in determining the lyric tone-quality of
           Hawaiian music; this is the predominance of vowel and labial
           sounds in the language. The phonics of Hawaiian speech, we
           must remember, lack the sounds represented by our alphabetic
           symbols _b, c_ or _s, d, f, g, j, q, x_, and _z_—a poverty
           for which no richness in vowel sounds can make amends. The
           Hawaiian speech, therefore, does not call into full play the
           uppermost vocal cavities to modify and strengthen, or refine,
           the throat and mouth tones of the speaker and to give reach
           and emphasis to his utterances. When he strove for dramatic
           and passional effect, he did not make his voice resound in
           the topmost cavities of the voice-trumpet, but left it to
           rumble and mutter low down in the throat-pipe, thus producing
           a feature that colors Hawaiian musical recitation.

           This feature, or mannerism, as it might be called, specially
           marks Hawaiian music of the bombastic bravura sort in modern
           times, imparting to it in its strife for emphasis a sensual
           barbaric quality. It can be described further only as a
           gurgling throatiness, suggestive at times of ventriloquism,
           as if the singer were gloating over some wild physical
           sensation, glutting his appetite of savagery, the meaning of
           which is almost as foreign to us and as primitive as are the
           mewing of a cat, the gurgling of an infant, and the snarl of
           a mother-tiger. At the very opposite pole of development from
           this throat-talk of the Hawaiian must we reckon the
           highly-specialized tones of the French speech, in which we
           find the nasal cavities are called upon to do their full
           share in modifying the voice-sounds.

           The vocal execution of Hawaiian music, like the recitation of
           much of their poetry, showed a surprising mastery of a
           certain kind of technique, the peculiarity of which was a
           sustained and continuous outpouring of the breath to the end
           of a certain period, when the lungs again drank their fill.
           This seems to have been an inheritance from the old religious
           style of prayer-recitation, which required the priest to
           repeat the whole incantation to its finish with the outpour
           of one lungful of breath. Satisfactory utterance of those old
           prayer-songs of the Aryans, the _mantras_, was conditioned
           likewise on its being a one-breath performance. A logical
           analogy may be seen between all this and that unwritten law,
           or superstition, which made it imperative for the heroes and
           demigods, _kupua_, of Hawaii’s mythologic age to discontinue
           any unfinished work on the coming of daylight.[305]

           [Footnote 305: The author can see no reason for supposing that
           this prolonged utterance had anything to do with that Hindoo
           practice belonging to the _yoga_, the exercise of which
           consists in regulating the breath.]
[Page 140]
           When one listens for the first time to the musical utterance
           of a Hawaiian poem, it may seem only a monotonous onflow of
           sounds faintly punctuated by the primary rhythm that belongs
           to accent, but lacking those milestones of secondary rhythm
           which set a period to such broader divisions as distinguish
           rhetorical and musical phrasing. Further attention will
           correct this impression and show that the Hawaiians paid
           strict attention not only to the lesser rhythm which deals
           with the time and accent of the syllable, but also to that
           more comprehensive form which puts a limit to the verse.

           With the Hawaiians musical phrasing was arranged to fit the
           verse of the mele, not to express a musical idea. The
           cadencing of a musical phrase in Hawaiian song was marked by
           a peculiarity all its own. It consisted of a prolonged
           trilling or fluctuating movement called _i’i_, in which the
           voice went up and down in a weaving manner, touching the main
           note that formed the framework of the melody, then springing
           away from it for some short interval—a half of a step, or
           even some shorter interval—like an electrified pith-ball,
           only to return and then spring away again and again until the
           impulse ceased. This was more extensively employed in the oil
           proper, the verses of which were longer drawn out, than in
           the mele such as formed the stock pieces of the hula. These
           latter were generally divided into shorter verses.

                               MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS

           The musical instruments of the Hawaiians included many
           classes, and their study can not fail to furnish substantial
           data for any attempt to estimate the musical performances,
           attainments, and genius of the people.

           Of drums, or drumlike instruments of percussion, the
           Hawaiians had four:

           1. The _pahu_, or _pahu-hula_ (pl. x), was a section of
           hollowed log. Breadfruit and coconut were the woods generally
           used for this purpose. The tough skin of the shark was the
           choice for the drumhead, which was held in place and kept
           tense by tightening cords of coconut fiber, that passed down
           the side of the cylinder.

           The workmanship of the pahu, though rude, was of tasteful
           design. So far as the author has studied them, each pahu was
           constructed with a diaphragm placed about two-thirds the
           distance from the head, obtained by leaving in place a cross
           section of the log, thus making a closed chamber of the
           drum-cavity proper, after the fashion of the kettledrum. The
           lower part of the drum also was hollowed out and carved, as
           will be seen in the illustration. In the carving of all the
           specimens examined the artists have shown a notable fondness
           for a fenestrated design representing a series of arches,
[Page 141] after the fashion of a two-storied arcade, the haunch of the
           superimposed arch resting directly on the crown of that
           below. In one case the lower arcade was composed of
           Roman,-while the upper was of Gothic, arches. The grace of
           the design and the manner of its execution are highly
           pleasing, and suggest the inquiry, Whence came the
           opportunity for this intimate study of the arch?

           The tone of the pahu was produced by striking its head with
           the finger-tips, or with the palm of the hand; never with a
           stick, so far as the writer has been able to learn. Being
           both heavy and unwieldly, it was allowed to rest upon the
           ground, and, if used alone, was placed to the front of the
           operator; if sounded in connection with the instrument next
           to be mentioned, it stood at his left side.

           The pahu, if not the most original, was the most important
           instrument used in connection with the hula. The drum, with
           its deep and solemn tones, is an instrument of recognized
           efficiency in its power to stir the heart to more vigorous
           pulsations, and in all ages it has been relied upon as a
           means of inspiring emotions of mystery, awe, terror,
           sublimity, or martial enthusiasm.

           Tradition of the most direct sort ascribes the introduction
           of the pahu to La’a—generally known as La’a-mai-Kahiki
           (La’a-from-Kahiki)—a prince who flourished about six
           centuries ago. He was of a volatile, adventurous disposition,
           a navigator of some renown, having made the long voyage
           between Hawaii and the archipelagoes in the southern
           Pacific—Kahiki—not less than twice in each direction. On
           his second arrival from the South he brought with him the big
           drum, the pahu, which he sounded as he skirted the coast
           quite out to sea, to the wonder and admiration of the natives
           on the land. La’a, being of an artistic temperament and an
           ardent patron of the hula, at once gave the divine art of
           Laka the benefit of this newly imported instrument. He
           traveled from place to place, instructing the teachers and
           inspiring them with new ideals. It was he also who introduced
           into the hula the kaékeéke as an instrument of music.

           2. The _pu-niu_ (pl. XVI) was a small drum made from the
           shell of a coconut. The top part, that containing the eyes,
           was removed, and the shell having been smoothed and polished,
           the opening was tightly covered with the skin of some
           scaleless fish—that of the _kala_ (Acanthurus unicornis) was
           preferred. A venerable kumu-hula states that it was his
           practice to use only the skin taken from the right side of
           the fish, because he found that it produced a finer quality
           of sound than that of the other side. The Hawaiian mind was
           very insistent on little matters of this sort—the mint,
           anise, and cummin of their system. The drumhead was stretched
           and placed in position while moist and flexible, and was then
           made fast to a ring-shaped cushion—_poaha_—of fiber or tapa
           that hugged the base of the shell.
[Page 142]
           The Hawaiians sometimes made use of the clear gum of the
           _kukui_ tree to aid in fixing the drumhead in place.

           When in use the pu-niu was lashed to the right thigh for the
           convenience of the performer, who played upon it with a thong
           of braided fibers held in his right hand (fig. 2), his left
           thus being free to manipulate the big drum that stood on the
           other side.

           Of three pu-niu in the author’s collection, one, when struck,
           gives off the sound of c̅ below the staff; another that of
           c̅♯ below the staff, and a third that of c̿♯ in the

           While the grand vibrations of the pahu filled the air with
           their solemn tremor, the lighter and sharper tones of the
           pu-niu gave a piquancy to the effect, adding a feature which
           may be likened to the sparkling ripples which the breeze
           carves in the ocean’s swell.

[Illustration: FIG. 2.—Ka, drumstick for pu-niu. (Pl. XVI.)]

           3. The _ipu_ or _ipu-hula_ (pl. VII), though not strictly a
           drum, was a drumlike instrument. It was made by joining
           closely together two pear-shaped gourds of large size in such
           fashion as to make a body shaped like a figure 8. An opening
           was made in the upper end of the smaller gourd to give exit
           to the sound. The cavities of the two gourds were thrown into
           one, thus making a single column of air, which, in vibration,
           gave off a note of clear bass pitch. An ipu of large size in
           the author’s collection emits the tone of c in the bass.
           Though of large volume, the tone is of low intensity and has
           small carrying power.

           For ease in handling, the ipu is provided about its waist
           with a loop of cord or tapa, by which device the performer
           was enabled to manipulate this bulky instrument with one
           hand. The instrument was sounded by dropping or striking it
           with well-adjusted force against the padded earth-floor of
           the Hawaiian house.

           The manner and style of performing on the ipu varied with the
           sentiment of the mele, a light and caressing action when the
           feeling was sentimental or pathetic, wild and emphatic when
           the subject was such as to stir the feelings with enthusiasm
           and passion.

           Musicians inform us that the drum—exception is made in the
           case of the snare and the kettle drum—is an instrument in
           which the pitch is a matter of comparative indifference, its
           function being to mark the time and emphasize the rhythm.
[Page 143] There are other elements, it would seem, that must be taken
           into the account in estimating the value of the drum.
           Attention may be directed first to its tone-character, the
           quality of its note which touches the heart in its own
           peculiar way, moving it to enthusiasm or bringing it within
           the easy reach of awe, fear, and courage. Again, while,
           except in the orchestra, the drum and other instruments of
           percussion may require no exact pitch, still this does not
           necessarily determine their effectiveness. The very depth and
           gravity of its pitch, made pervasive by its wealth of
           overtones, give to this primitive instrument a weird hold on
           the emotions.


           This combination of qualities we find well illustrated in the
           pahu and the ipu, the tones of which range in the lower
           registers of the human voice. The tone-character of the
           pu-niu, on the other hand, is more subdued, yet lively and
           cheerful, by reason in part of the very sharpness of its
           pitch, and thus affords an agreeable offset to the solemnity
           of the other two.

           Ethnologically the pahu is of more world-wide interest than
           any other member of its class, being one of many varieties of
           the kettle-drum that are to be found scattered among the
           tribes of the Pacific, all of them, perhaps, harking back to
           Asiatic forbears, such as the tom-tom of the Hindus.

           The sound of the pahu carries one back in imagination to the
           dread sacrificial drum of the Aztec teocallis and the wild
           kettles of the Tartar hordes. The drum has cruel and bloody
           associations. When listening to its tones one can hardly put
           away a thought of the many times they have been used to drown
           the screams of some agonized creature.

           For more purely local interest, inventive originality, and
           simplicity, the round-bellied ipu takes the palm, a
           contrivance of strictly Hawaiian, or at least Polynesian,
           ingenuity. It is an instrument of fascinating interest, and
           when its crisp rind puts forth its volume of sound one finds
           his imagination winging itself back to the mysterious caverns
           of Hawaiian mythology.

           The gourd, of which the ipu is made, is a clean vegetable
           product of the fields and the garden, the gift of
           Lono-wahine—unrecognized daughter of mother Ceres—and is
           free from all cruel alliances. No bleating lamb was
           sacrificed to furnish parchment for its drumhead. Its
           associations are as innocent as the pipes of Pan.

           4. The _ka-éke-éke_, though not drumlike in form, must be
           classed as an instrument of percussion from the manner of
           eliciting its note. It was a simple joint of bamboo, open at
           one end, the other end being left closed with the diaphragm
           provided by nature. The tone is produced by striking the
           closed end of the cylinder, while held in a vertical
           position, with a sharp blow against some solid, nonresonant
           body, such as the matted earth floor of the old Hawaiian
[Page 144] house. In the author’s experiments with the kaékeéke an
           excellent substitute was found in a bag filled with sand or

           In choosing bamboo for the kaékeéke it is best to use a
           variety which is thin-walled and long-jointed, like the
           indigenous Hawaiian varieties, in preference to such as come
           from the Orient, all of which are thick-walled and
           short-jointed, and therefore less resonant than the Hawaiian.

           The performer held a joint in each hand, the two being of
           different sizes and lengths, thus producing tones of diverse
           pitch. By making a proper selection of joints it would be
           possible to obtain a set capable of producing a perfect
           musical scale. The tone of the kaékeéke is of the utmost
           purity and lacks only sustained force and carrying power to
           be capable of the best effects.

           An old Hawaiian once informed the writer that about the year
           1850, in the reign of Kamehameha III, he was present at a
           hula kaékeéke given in the royal palace in Honolulu. The
           instrumentalists numbered six, each one of whom held two
           bamboo joints. The old man became enthusiastic as he
           described the effect produced by their performance, declaring
           it to have been the most charming hula he ever witnessed.

           5. The _úli-ulí_ (pl. XI) consisted of a small gourd of the
           size of one’s two fists, into which were introduced shotlike
           seeds, such as those of the canna. In character it was a
           rattle, a noise-instrument pure and simple, but of a tone by
           no means disagreeable to the ear, even as the note produced
           by a woodpecker drumming on a log is not without its
           pleasurable effect on the imagination.

           The illustration of the úliulí faithfully pictured by the
           artist reproduces a specimen that retains the original
           simplicity of the instrument before the meretricious taste of
           modern times tricked it out with silks and feathers. (For a
           further description of this instrument, see p. 107.)

           6. The _pu-íli_ was also a variety of the rattle, made by
           splitting a long joint of bamboo for half its length into
           slivers, every alternate sliver being removed to give the
           remaining ones greater freedom and to make their play the one
           upon the other more lively. The tone is a murmurous breezy
           rustle that resembles the notes of twigs, leaves, or reeds
           struck against one another by the wind—not at all an
           unworthy imitation of nature-tones familiar to the Hawaiian

           The performers sat in two rows facing each other, a position
           that favored mutual action, in which each row of actors
           struck their instruments against those of the other side, or
           tossed them back and forth. (For further account of the
           manner in which the puili was used in the hula of the same
           name, see p. 113.)

           7. The _laau_ was one of the noise-instruments used in the
           hula. It consisted of two sticks of hard resonant wood, the
[Page 145] smaller of which was struck against the larger, producing a
           clear xylophonic note. While the pitch of this instrument is
           capable of exact determination, it does not seem that there
           was any attempt made at adjustment. A laau in the author’s
           collection, when struck, emits tones the predominant one of
           which is d̅ (below the staff).

           8. The _ohe_, or _ohe-hano-ihu_ (fig. 3), is an instrument of
           undoubted antiquity. In every instance that has come under
           the author’s observation the material has been, as its
           name—_ohe_—signifies, a simple joint of bamboo, with an
           embouchure placed about half an inch from the closed end,
           thus enabling the player to supply the instrument with air
           from his right nostril. In every nose-flute examined there
           have been two holes, one 2 or 3 inches away from the
           embouchure, the older about a third of the distance from the
           open end of the flute.

           [Illustration: FIG. 3.—Ohe-hano-ihu, nose-flute.]

           The musician with his left hand holds the end of the pipe
           squarely against his lip, so that the right nostril slightly
           overlaps the edge of the embouchure. The breath is projected
           into the embouchure with modulated force. A nose-flute in the
           author’s collection with the lower hole open produces the
           sound of [=f]♯; with both holes unstopped it emits the sound
           [==a]; and when both holes are stopped it produces the sound
           of c̿♯, a series of notes which are the tonic, mediant,
           and dominant of the chord of F♯ minor.

           An ohe played by an old Hawaiian named Keaonaloa, an inmate
           of the Lunalilo Home, when both holes were stopped sounded
           [=f]; with the lower hole open it sounded [==a], and when
           both holes were open it sounded [===c].

           The music made by Keaonaloa with his ohe was curious, but not
           soul-filling. We must bear in mind, however, that it was
           intended only as an accompaniment to a poetical recitation.

           Some fifty or sixty years ago it was not uncommon to see
           bamboo flutes of native manufacture in the hands of Hawaiian
           musicians of the younger generation. These instruments were
           avowedly imitations of the D-flute imported from abroad. The
           idea of using bamboo for this purpose must have been
           suggested by its previous use in the nose-flute.

           “The tonal capacity of the Hawaiian nose-flute,” says Miss
           Jennie Elsner, “which has nothing harsh and strident about
           it, embraces five tones, [=f] and [==g] in the middle
[Page 146] register, and [==f], [=g], and [==a] an octave above. These
           flutes are not always pitched to the same key, varying half a
           tone or so.” On inquiring of the native who kindly furnished
           the following illustrations, he stated that he had bored the
           holes of his ohe without much measurement, trusting to his
           intuitions and judgment.

                            I—Range of the Nose-flute


           The player began with a slow, strongly accented, rhythmical
           movement, which continued to grow more and more intricate.
           Rhythmical diminution continued in a most astounding manner
           until a frenzied climax was reached; in other words, until
           the player’s breath-capacity was exhausted.

           A peculiar effect, as of several instruments being used at
           the same time, was produced by the two lower tones being
           thrown in wild profusion, often apparently simultaneously
           with one of the upper tones. As the tempo in any one of these
           increased, the rhythm was lost sight of and a peculiar
           syncopated effect resulted.[306]

           [Footnote 306: The writer is indebted to Miss Elsner not only
           for the above comments but for the following score which she
           has cleverly arranged as a sample of nose-flute music
           produced by Keaonaloa.]

                          II—Music from the Nose-flute
                            Arranged by JENNIE ELSNER

           9. The _pu-á_ was a whistle-like instrument. It was made from
           a gourd of the size of a lemon, and was pierced with three
           holes, or sometimes only two, one for the nose, by which it
[Page 147] was blown, while the others were controlled by the fingers.
           This instrument has been compared to the Italian ocarina.

           10. The _íli-íli_ was a noise-instrument pure and simple. It
           consisted of two pebbles that were held in the hand and
           smitten together, after the manner of castanets, in time to
           the music of the voices. (See p. 120.)

           11. The _niau-kani_—singing splinter—was a reed-instrument
           of a rude sort, made by holding a reed of thin bamboo against
           a slit cut out in a larger piece of bamboo. This was applied
           to the mouth, and the voice being projected against it
           produced an effect similar to that of the Jew’s harp. (See p.

           12. Even still more extemporaneous and rustic than any of
           these is a modest contrivance called by the Hawaiians
           _pú-la-í_. It is nothing more than a ribbon torn from the
           green leaf of the _ti_ plant, say three-quarters of an inch
           to an inch in width by 5 or 6 inches long, and rolled up
           somewhat after the manner of a lamplighter, so as to form a
           squat cylinder an inch or more in length. This was compressed
           to flatten it. Placed between the lips and blown into with
           proper force, it emits a tone of pure reedlike quality, that
           varies in pitch, according to the size of the whistle, from G
           in the middle register to a shrill piping note more than an
           octave above.

           The hula girl who showed this simple device offered it in
           answer to reiterated inquiries as to what other instruments,
           besides those of more formal make already described, the
           Hawaiians were wont to use in connection with their informal
           rustic dances. “This,” said she, “was sometimes used as an
           accompaniment to such informal dancing as was indulged in
           outside the halau.” This little rustic pipe, quickly
           improvised from the leaf that every Hawaiian garden supplies,
           would at once convert any skeptic to a belief in the pipes of
           god Pan.

           13. The _ukeké_, the one Hawaiian instrument of its class, is
           a mere strip of wood bent into the shape of a bow that its
           elastic force may keep tense the strings that are stretched
           upon it. These strings, three in number, were originally of
           sinnet, later after the arrival of the white man, of
           horsehair. At the present time it is the fashion to use the
           ordinary gut designed for the violin or the taro-patch
           guitar. Every ukeké seen followed closely a conventional
           pattern, which, argues for the instrument a historic age
           sufficient to have gathered about itself some degree of
           traditional reverence. One end of the stick is notched or
           provided with holes to hold the strings, while the other end
           is wrought into a conventional figure resembling the tail of
           a fish and serves as an attachment about which to wind the
           free ends of the strings.

           No ukeké seen by the author was furnished with pins, pegs, or
           any similar device to facilitate tuning. Nevertheless, the
[Page 148] musician does tune his ukeké, as the writer can testify from
           his own observation. This Hawaiian musician was the one whose
           performances on the nose-flute are elsewhere spoken of. When
           asked to give a sample of his playing on the ukeké, he first
           gave heed to his instrument as if testing whether it was in
           tune. He was evidently dissatisfied and pulled at one string
           as if to loosen it; then, pressing one end of the bow against
           his lips, he talked to it in a singing tone, at the same time
           plucking the strings with a delicate rib of grass. The effect
           was most pleasing. The open cavity of the mouth, acting as a
           resonator, reenforced the sounds and gave them a volume and
           dignity that was a revelation. The lifeless strings allied
           themselves to a human voice and became animated by a living

           With the assistance of a musical friend it was found that the
           old Hawaiian tuned his strings with approximate correctness
           to the tonic, the third and the fifth. We may surmise that
           this self-trained musician had instinctively followed the
           principle or rule proposed by Aristoxenus, who directed a
           singer to sing his most convenient note, and then, taking
           this as a starting point, to tune the remainder of his
           strings—the Greek kithara, no doubt—in the usual manner
           from this one.

           While the ukeké was used to accompany the mele and the oli,
           its chief employment was in serenading and serving the young
           folk in breathing their extemporized songs and uttering their
           love-talk—_hoipoipo_. By using a peculiar lingo or secret
           talk of their own invention, two lovers could hold private
           conversation in public and pour their loves and longings into
           each other’s ears without fear of detection—a thing most
           reprehensible in savages. This display of ingenuity has been
           the occasion for outpouring many vials of wrath upon the
           sinful ukeké.

           Experiment with the ukeké impresses one with the wonderful
           change in the tone of the instrument that takes place when
           its lifeless strings are brought into close relation with the
           cavity of the mouth. Let anyone having normal organs of
           speech contract his lips into the shape of an O, make his
           cheeks tense, and then, with the pulp of his finger as a
           plectrum, slap the center of his cheek and mark the tone that
           is produced. Practice will soon enable him to render a full
           octave with fair accuracy and to perform a simple melody that
           shall be recognizable at a short distance. The power and
           range thus acquired will, of course, be limited by the skill
           of the operator. One secret of the performance lies in a
           proper management of the tongue. This function of the mouth
[Page 149] familiarly illustrated in the jew’s-harp. The author is again
           indebted to Miss Elsner for the following comments on the

           “The strings of this ukeké, the Hawaiian fiddle, are tuned to
           e̅; to b̅ and to d̅. These three strings are struck
           nearly simultaneously, but the sound being very feeble, it is
           only the first which, receiving the sharp impact of the blow,
           gives out enough volume to make a decided impression.”

                      III—The Ukeké (as played by Keaonaloa)
                           Arranged by JENNIE ELSNER

           The early visitors to these islands, as a rule, either held
           the music of the savages in contempt or they were unqualified
           to report on its character and to make record of it.

           We know that in ancient times the voices of the men as well
           as of the women were heard at the same time in the songs of
           the hula. One of the first questions that naturally arises
           is, Did the men and the women sing in parts or merely in

           It is highly gratifying to find clear historical testimony on
           this point from a competent authority. The quotation that
           follows is from the pen of Capt. James King, who was with
           Capt. James Cook on the latter’s last voyage, in which he
           discovered the Hawaiian islands (January 18, 1778). The words
           were evidently penned after the death of Captain Cook, when
           the writer of them, it is inferred, must have succeeded to
           the command of the expedition. The fact that Captain King
           weighs his words, as evidenced in the footnote, and that he
           appreciates the bearing and significance of his testimony,
           added to the fact that he was a man of distinguished
           learning, gives unusual weight to his statements. The subject
           is one of so great interest and importance, that the whole
           passage is here quoted.[307] It adds not a little to its value
           that the writer thereof did not confine his remarks to the
           music, but enters into a general description of the hula. The
           only regret is that he did not go still further into details.

           [Footnote 307: Italics used are those of the present author.]

           Their dances have a much nearer resemblance to those of the
           New Zealanders than of the Otaheitians or Friendly Islanders.
           They are prefaced with a slow, solemn song, in which all the
           party join, moving their legs, and gently striking their
           breasts in a manner and with attitudes that are perfectly
           easy and graceful; and so far they are the same with the
           dances of the Society Islands. When this has lasted about ten
           minutes, both the tune and the motions gradually quicken, and
[Page 150] end only by their inability to support the fatigue, which
           part of the performance is the exact counterpart of that of
           the New Zealanders; and (as it is among them) the person who
           uses the most violent action and holds out the longest is
           applauded as the best dancer. It is to be observed that in
           this dance the women only took part and that the dancing of
           the men is nearly of the same kind with what we saw at the
           Friendly Islands; and which may, perhaps, with more
           propriety, be called the accompaniment of the songs, with
           corresponding and graceful motions of the whole body. Yet as
           we were spectators of boxing exhibitions of the same kind
           with those we were entertained with at the Friendly Islands,
           it is probable that they had likewise their grand ceremonious
           dances, in which numbers of both sexes assisted.

           Their music is also of a ruder kind, having neither flutes
           nor reeds, nor instruments of any other sort, that we saw,
           except drums of various sizes. But their songs, _which they
           sing in parts_, and accompany with a gentle motion of the
           arms, in the same manner as the Friendly Islanders, had a
           very pleasing effect.

           To the above Captain King adds this footnote:

           As this circumstance of their _singing in parts_ has been
           much doubted by persons eminently skilled in music, and would
           be exceedingly curious if it was clearly ascertained, it is
           to be lamented that it can not be more positively

           Captain Burney and Captain Phillips of the Marines, who have
           both a tolerable knowledge of music, have given it as their
           opinion they did sing in parts; that is to say, that they
           sang together in different notes, which formed a pleasing

           These gentlemen have fully testified that the Friendly
           Islanders undoubtedly studied their performances before they
           were exhibited in public; that they had an idea of different
           notes being useful in harmony; and also that they rehearsed
           their compositions in private and threw out the inferior
           voices before they ventured to appear before those who were
           supposed to be judges of their skill in music.

           In their regular concerts each man had a bamboo[308] which was
           of a different length and gave a different tone. These they
           beat against the ground, and each performer, assisted by the
           note given by this instrument, repeated the same note,
           accompanying it with words, by which means it was rendered
           sometimes short and sometimes long. In this manner they sang
           in chorus, and not only produced octaves to each other,
           according to their species of voice, but fell on concords
           such as were not disagreeable to the ear.

           [Footnote 308: These bamboos were, no doubt, the same as the
           _kaékeéke_, elsewhere described. (See P. 122.)]

           Now, to overturn this fact, by the reasoning of persons who
           did not hear these performances, is rather an arduous task.
           And yet there is great improbability that any uncivilized
           people should by accident arrive at this perfection in the
           art of music, which we imagine can only be attained by dint
           of study and knowledge of the system and the theory on which
           musical composition is founded. Such miserable jargon as our
           country psalm-singers practice, which may be justly deemed
           the lowest class of counterpoint, or singing in several
           parts, can not be acquired in the coarse manner in which it
           is performed in the churches without considerable time and
           practice. It is, therefore, scarcely credible that a people,
           semibarbarous, should naturally arrive at any perfection in
           that art which it is much doubted whether the Greeks and
           Romans, with all their refinements in music, ever attained,
           and which the Chinese, who have been longer civilized than
           any people on the globe, have not yet found out.
[Page 151]
           If Captain Burney (who, by the testimony of his father,
           perhaps the greatest musical theorist of this or any other
           age, was able to have done it) has written down in European
           notes the concords that these people sung, and if these
           concords had been such as European ears could tolerate, there
           would have been no longer doubt of the fact; but, as it is,
           it would, in my opinion, be a rash judgment to venture to
           affirm that they did or did not understand counterpoint; and
           therefore I fear that this curious matter must be considered
           as still remaining undecided. (A Voyage to the Pacific Ocean,
           undertaken by the command of His Majesty, for making
           discoveries in the Northern Hemisphere. Performed under the
           direction of Captains Cook, Clerke, and Gore, in His
           Majesty’s ships the Resolution and Discovery, in the years
           1776, 1777, 1778, and 1780, 3 volumes, London, 1784, III, 2d
           ed., 142, 143, 144.)

           While we can not but regret that Captain King did not go into
           detail and inform us specifically what were the concords
           those old-time people “fell on,” whether their songs were in
           the major or minor key, and many other points of information,
           he has, nevertheless, put science under obligations to him by
           his clear and unmistakable testimony to the fact that they
           did arrange their music in parts. His testimony is decisive:
           “In this manner they sang in chorus, and not only produced
           octaves to each other, according to their species of voice,
           but fell on concords such as were not disagreeable to the
           ear.” When the learned doctor argues that to overturn this
           fact would be an arduous task, we have to agree with him—an
           arduous task indeed. He well knew that one proven fact can
           overthrow a thousand improbabilities. “What man has done man
           can do” is a true saying; but it does not thence follow that
           what man has not done man can not do.

           If the contention were that the Hawaiians understood
           counterpoint as a science and a theory, the author would
           unhesitatingly admit the improbability with a readiness akin
           to that with which he would admit the improbability that the
           wild Australian understood the theory of the boomerang. But
           that a musical people, accustomed to pitch their voices to
           the clear and unmistakable notes of bamboo pipes cut to
           various lengths, a people whose posterity one generation
           later appropriated the diatonic scale as their own with the
           greatest avidity and readiness, that this people should
           recognize the natural harmonies of sound, when they had
           chanced upon them, and should imitate them in their
           songs—the improbability of this the author fails to see.

           The clear and explicit statement of Captain King leaves
           little to be desired so far as this sort of evidence can go.
           There are, however, other lines of inquiry that must be

           1. The testimony of the Hawaiians themselves on this matter.
           This is vague. No one of whom inquiry has been made is able
           to affirm positively the existence of part-singing in the
           olden times. Most of those with whom the writer has talked
           are inclined to the view that the ancient cantillation was
           not in any sense part-singing as now practised. One must not,
[Page 152] however, rely too much on such testimony as this, which at
           the best is only negative. In many cases it is evident the
           witnesses do not understand the true meaning and bearing of
           the question. The Hawaiians have no word or expression
           synonymous with our expression “musical chord.” In all
           inquiries the writer has found it necessary to use
           periphrasis or to appeal to some illustration. The fact must
           be borne in mind, however, that people often do a thing, or
           possess a thing, for which they have no name.

           2. As to the practice among Hawaiians at the present time, no
           satisfactory proof has been found of the existence of any
           case in which in the cantillations of their own songs the
           Hawaiians—those uninfluenced by foreign music—have given an
           illustration of what can properly be termed part-singing; nor
           can anyone be found who can testify affirmatively to the same
           effect. Search for it has thus far been as fruitless as
           pursuit of the will-o’-the-wisp.

           3. The light that is thrown on this question by the study of
           the old Hawaiian musical instruments is singularly
           inconclusive. If it were possible, for instance, to bring
           together a complete set of kaekeeke bamboos which were
           positively known to have been used together at one
           performance, the argument from the fact of their forming a
           musical harmony, if such were found to be the case—or, on
           the other hand, of their producing only a haphazard series of
           unrelated sounds, if such were the fact—would bring to the
           decision of the question the overwhelming force of indirect
           evidence. But such an assortment the author has not been able
           to find. Bamboo is a frail and perishable material. Of the
           two specimens of kaekeeke tubes found by him in the Bernice
           Pauahi Bishop Museum one was cracked and voiceless; and so
           the testimony of its surviving partner was of no avail.

           The Hawaiians of the present day are so keenly alive to
           musical harmony that it is hardly conceivable that their
           ancestors two or three generations ago perpetrated discords
           in their music. They must either have sung in unison or hit
           on “concords such as were not disagreeable to the ear.” If
           the music heard in the halau to-day in any close degree
           resembles that of ancient times—it must be assumed that it
           does—no male voice of ordinary range need have found any
           difficulty in sounding the notes, nor do they scale so low
           that a female voice would not easily reach them.

           Granting, then, as we must, the accuracy of Captain King’s
           statement, the conclusion to which the author of this paper
           feels forced is that since the time of the learned doctor’s
           visit to these shores, more than one hundred and twenty-eight
           years ago, the art and practice of singing or cantillating
           after the old fashion has declined among the Hawaiians. The
           hula of the old times, in spite of all the efforts to
[Page 153] maintain it, is becoming more and more difficult of
           procurement every day. Almost none of the singing that one
           hears at the so-called hula performances gotten up for the
           delectation of sightseers is Hawaiian music of the old sort.
           It belongs rather to the second or third rattoon-crop, which,
           has sprung up under the influence of foreign stimuli. Take
           the published hula songs, such as “_Tomitomi_,” “_Wahine
           Poupou_” and a dozen others that might be mentioned, to say
           nothing about the words—the music is no more related to the
           genuine Hawaiian article of the old times than is “ragtime”
           to a Gregorian chant.

           The bare score of a hula song, stripped of all embellishments
           and reduced by the logic of our musical science to the merest
           skeleton of notes, certainly makes a poor showing and gives
           but a feeble notion of the song itself—its rhythm, its
           multitudinous grace-notes, its weird tone-color. The notes
           given below offer such a skeletal presentation of a song
           which the author heard cantillated by a skilled hula-master.
           They were taken down at the author’s request by Capt. H.
           Berger, conductor of the Royal Hawaiian Band:

                        IV—Song from the Hula Pa’i-umauma
                              Arranged by H. BERGER

           The same comment may be made on the specimen next to be given
           as on the previous one: there is an entire omission of the
           trills and flourishes with which the singer garlanded his
           scaffolding of song, and which testified of his adhesion to
           the fashion of his ancestors, the fashion according to which
           songs have been sung, prayers recited, brave deeds celebrated
           since the time when Kane and Pele and the other gods dipped
           paddle for the first time into Hawaiian waters.
           Unfortunately, in this as in the previous piece and as in the
           one next to be given, the singer escaped the author before he
           was able to catch the words.

                          V—Song from the Hula Pa-ipu
                             Arranged by H. BERGER
[Page 154]

           Here, again, is a piece of song that to the author’s ear
           bears much the same resemblance to the original that an oiled
           ocean in calm would bear to the same ocean when stirred by a
           breeze. The fine dimples which gave the ocean its
           diamond-flash have been wiped out.

                           VI—Song for the Hula Pele
                             Arranged by H. BERGER

           Is it our ear that is at fault? Is it not rather our science
           of musical notation, in not reproducing the fractions of
           steps, the enharmonics that are native to the note-carving
           ear of the Chinaman, and that are perhaps essential to the
           perfect scoring of an oli or mele as sung by a Hawaiian?

           None of the illustrations thus far given have caught that
           fluctuating trilling movement of the voice which most
           musicians interviewed on the subject declare to be impossible
           of representation, while some flout the assertion that it
           represents a change of pitch. One is reminded by this of a
           remark made by Pietro Mascagni:[309]

           [Footnote 309: The Evolution of Music from the Italian
           Standpoint, _in_ the Century Library of Music, XVI, 521.]

           “The feeling that a people displays in its character, its
           habits, its nature, and thus creates an overprivileged type
           of music, may be apprehended by a foreign spirit which has
           become accustomed to the usages and expressions common from
           that particular people. But popular music, [being] void of
           any scientific basis, will always remain incomprehensible to
           the foreigner who seeks to study it technically.”

           When we consider that the Chinese find pleasure in musical
           performances on instruments that divide the scale into
           intervals less than half a step, and that the Arabian musical
           scale included quarter-steps, we shall be obliged to admit
           that this statement of Mascagni is not merely a fling at our
           musical science.

           Here are introduced the words and notes of a musical
           recitation done after the manner of the hula by a Hawaiian
           professional and his wife. Acquaintance with the Hawaiian
           language and a feeling for the allusions connoted in the text
           of the song would, of course, be a great aid in enabling one
           to enter into the spirit of the performance. As these
[Page 155] adjuncts will be available to only a very few of those who
           will read these words, in the beginning are given the words
           of the oli with which he prefaced the song, with a
           translation of the same, and then the mele which formed the
           bulk of the song, also with a translation, together with such
           notes and comments as are necessary to bring one into
           intellectual and sympathetic relation with the performance,
           so far as that is possible under the circumstances. It is
           especially necessary to familiarize the imagination with the
           language, meaning, and atmosphere of a mele, because the
           Hawaiian approached song from the side of the poet and
           elocutionist. Further discussion of this point must, however,
           be deferred to another division of the subject:

                                    _He Oli_

                    Halau[310] Hanalei i ka nini a ka ua;
                    Kumano[311] ke po’o-wai a ka liko;[312]
                    Nahá ka opi-wai[313] a a Wai-aloha;
                    O ke kahi koe a hiki i Wai-oli.[314]
                    Ua ike ’a.


                                     _A Song_

                Hanalei is a hall for the dance in the pouring rain;
                The stream-head is turned from its bed of fresh green;
                Broken the dam that pent the water of love—
                Naught now to hinder its rush to the vale of delight.
                You’ve seen it.

           [Footnote 310: _Halau_. The rainy valley of Hanalei, on Kauai,
           is here compared to a halau, a dance-hall, apparently because
           the rain-columns seem to draw together and inclose the valley
           within walls, while the dark foreshortened vault of heaven
           covers it as with a roof.]

           [Footnote 311: _Kumano_. A water-source, or, as here, perhaps,
           a sort of dam or loose stone wall that was run out into a
           stream for the purpose of diverting a portion of it into a
           new channel.]

           [Footnote 312: _Liko_. A bud; fresh verdure; a word much used
           in modern Hawaiian poetry.]

           [Footnote 313: _Opiwai_. A watershed. In Hawaii a knife-edged
           ridge as narrow as the back of a horse will often decide the
           course of a stream, turning its direction from one to the
           other side of the island.]

           [Footnote 314: _Waioli_ (_wai_, water; _oli_, joyful). The name
           given to a part of the valley of Hanalei, also the name of a

           The mele to which the above oli was a prelude is as follows:


                Noluna ka hale kai, e ka ma’a-lewa,
                Nana ka maka ia Moana-nui-ka-Lehúa.
                Noi au i ke kai e mali’o.
                Ane ku a’e la he lehúa ilaila—
            5   Hopoe Lehúa ki’eki’e.
                Maka’u ka Lehúa i ke kanáka,
                Lilo ilalo e hele ai, ilalo, e.
                Keaau iliili nehe; olelo ke kai o Puna
                I ka ulu hala la, e, kaiko’o Puna.
           10   Ia hoone’ene’e ia pili mai kaua,
                E ke hoa, ke waiho e mai la oe;
                Eia ka mea ino, he anu, e.
                Aohe anu e!
                Me he mea la iwaho kaua, e ke hoa,
                15  Me he wai la ko kaua ili, e.

[Page 156]

                VII—_Oli and Mele from the Hula Ala’a-papa_
                             _Oli—A prelude_
                       Arranged by Mrs. YARNDLEY

[Page 157]

                        [Music: (_4 times r._)]


                     _Song from the Hula Ala’a-papa_

                From mountain-retreat and root-woven ladder
                Mine eye looks down on goddess Moana-Lehúa.
                Then I pray to the Sea, be thou calm;
                Would there might stand on thy shore a lehúa—
            5   Lehúa tree tall of Hopoe.
                The Lehúa is fearful of man,
                Leaves him to walk on the ground below,
                To walk on the ground far below.
                The pebbles at Keaau grind in the surf;
           10   The sea at Keaau shouts to Puna’s palms,
                “Fierce is the sea of Puna.”
                Move hither, snug close, companion mine;
                You lie so aloof over there.
                Oh what a bad fellow is Cold!
           15     Not cold, do you say?
                It’s as if we were out in the wold,
                Our bodies so clammy and chill, friend.

                             EXPLANATORY REMARKS

           The acute or stress accent is placed over syllables that take
           the accent in ordinary speech.

           A word or syllable italicized indicates drum-down-beat.
[Page 158]
           It will be noticed that the stress-accent and the rhythmic
           accent, marked by the down-beat, very frequently do not
           coincide. The time marked by the drum-down-beat was strictly
           accurate throughout.

           The tune was often pitched on some other key than that in
           which it is here recorded. This fact was noted when, from
           time to tune, it was found necessary to have the singer
           repeat certain passages.

           The number of measures devoted to the _i’i_, or fluctuation,
           which is indicated by the wavering line [Illustration:],
           varied from time to time, even when the singer repeated the
           same passage. (See remarks on the _i’i_ p. 140.)

           Redundancies of speech (interpolations) which are in
           disagreement with the present writer’s text (pp. 155–156) are
           inclosed in brackets. It will be seen that in the fifth verse
           he gives the version _Maka’u ke kanaka i ka lehua_ instead of
           the one given by the author, which is _Maka’u ka Lehua i ke
           kanaka_. Each version has its advocates, and good arguments
           are made in favor of each.

           On reaching the end of a measure that coincided with the
           close of a rhetorical phrase the singer, Kualii, made haste
           to snatch, as it were, at the first word or syllable of the
           succeeding phrase. This is indicated by the word
           “anticipating,” or “anticipatory”—written _anticip._—placed
           over the syllable or word thus snatched.

           It was somewhat puzzling to determine whether the tones which
           this man sang were related to each other as five and three of
           the major key, or as three and one of the minor key.
           Continued and strained attention finally made it seem evident
           that it was the major key which he intended, i.e., it was
           f̅ and d̅ in the key of B♭,
           rather than f̅ and d̅ in the key of D minor.


           In their ordinary speech the Hawaiians were good
           elocutionists—none better. Did they adhere to this same
           system of accentuation in their poetry, or did they punctuate
           their phrases and words according to the notions of the
           song-maker and the conceived exigencies of poetical
           composition? After hearing and studying this recitation of
           Kualii the author is compelled to say that he does depart in
           a great measure from the accent of common speech and charge
           his words with intonations and stresses peculiar to the mele.
           What artificial influence has come in to produce this
           result? Is it from some demand of poetic or of musical
           rhythm? Which? It was observed that he substituted the soft
           sound of _t_ for the stronger sound of _k_, “because,” as he
           explained, “the sound of the _t_ is lighter.” Thus he said
           _te tanata_ instead of _ke kanaka_, the man. The Hawaiian ear
           has always a delicate feeling for tone-color.
[Page 159]
           In all our discussions and conclusions we must bear in mind
           that the Hawaiian did not approach song merely for its own
           sake; the song did not sing of itself. First in order came
           the poem, then the rhythm of song keeping time to the rhythm
           of the poetry. The Hawaiian sang not from a mere bubbling up
           of indefinable emotion, but because he had something to say
           for which he could find no other adequate form of expression.
           The Hawaiian boy, as he walks the woods, never whistles to
           keep his courage up. When he paces the dim aisles of
           Kaliuwa’a, he sets up an altar and heaps on it a sacrifice of
           fruit and flowers and green leaves, but he keeps as silent as
           a mouse.

           During his performance Kualii cantillated his song while
           handling a round wooden tray in place of a drum; his wife
           meanwhile performed the dance. This she did very gracefully
           and in perfect time. In marking the accent the left foot was,
           if anything, the favorite, yet each foot in general took two
           measures; that is, the left marked the down-beat in measures
           1 and 2, 5 and 6, and so on, while the right, in turn, marked
           the rhythmic accent that comes with the down-beat in measures
           3 and 4, 7 and 8, and so on. During the four steps taken by
           the left foot, covering the time of two measures, the body
           was gracefully poised on the other foot. Then a shift was
           made, the position was reversed, and during two measures the
           emphasis came on the right foot.

           The motions of the hands, arms, and of the whole body,
           including the pelvis—which has its own peculiar orbital and
           sidelong swing—were in perfect sympathy one part with
           another. The movements were so fascinating that one was at
           first almost hypnotized and disqualified for criticism and
           analytic judgment. Not to derogate from the propriety and
           modesty of the woman’s motions, under the influence of her
           Delsartian grace one gained new appreciation of “the charm of
           woven paces and of waving hands.”

           Throughout the whole performance of Kualii and his wife
           Abigaila it was noticed that, while he was the reciter, she
           took the part of the olapa (see p. 28) and performed the
           dance; but to this rôle she added that of prompter, repeating
           to him in advance the words of the next verse, which he then
           took up. Her verbal memory, it was evident, was superior to

           Experience with Kualii and his partner, as well as with
           others, emphasizes the fact that one of the great
           difficulties encountered in the attempt to write out the
           slender thread of music (_leo_) of a Hawaiian mele and fit to
           it the words as uttered by the singer arises from the
           constant interweaving of meaningless vowel sounds. This,
           which the Hawaiians call _i’i_, is a phenomenon comparable to
           the weaving of a vine about a framework, or to the
[Page 160] pen-flourishes that illuminate old German text. It consists
           of the repetition of a vowel sound—generally _i_ (=_ee_) or
           _e_ (=_a_, as in fate), or a rapid interchange of these two.
           To the ear of the author the pitch varies through an interval
           somewhat less than a half-step. Exactly what is the interval
           he can not say. The musicians to whom appeal for aid in
           determining this point has been made have either dismissed it
           for the most part as a matter of little or no consequence or
           have claimed the seeming variation in pitch was due simply to
           a changeful stress of voice or of accent. But the author can
           not admit that the report of his senses is here mistaken.

           A further embarrassment comes from the fact that this
           tone-embroidery found in the i’i is not a fixed quantity. It
           varies seemingly with the mood of the singer, so that not
           unfrequently, when one asks for the repetition of a phrase,
           it will, quite likely, be given with a somewhat different
           wording, calling for a readjustment of the rhythm on the part
           of the musician who is recording the score. But it must be
           acknowledged that the singer sticks to his rhythm, which, so
           far as observed, is in common time.

           In justice to the Hawaiian singer who performs the
           accommodating task just mentioned it must be said that, under
           the circumstances in which he is placed, it is no wonder that
           at times he departs from the prearranged formula of song. His
           is the difficult task of pitching his voice and maintaining
           the same rhythm and tempo unaided by instrumental
           accompaniment or the stimulating movements of the dance. Let
           any stage-singer make the attempt to perform an aria, or even
           a simple recitative, off the stage, and without the
           support—real or imaginary—afforded by the wonted orchestral
           accompaniment as well as the customary stage-surroundings,
           and he will be apt to find himself embarrassed. The very fact
           of being compelled to repeat is of itself alone enough to
           disconcert almost anyone. The men and women who to-day
           attempt the forlorn task of reproducing for us a hula mele or
           an oli under what are to them entirely unsympathetic and
           novel surroundings are, as a rule, past the prime of life,
           and not unfrequently acknowledge themselves to be failing in

           After making all of these allowances we must, it would seem,
           make still another allowance, which regards the intrinsic
           nature and purpose of Hawaiian song. It was not intended, nor
           was it possible under the circumstances of the case, that a
           Hawaiian song should be sung to an unvarying tempo or to the
           same key; and even in the words or sounds that make up its
           fringework a certain range of individual choice was allowed
           or even expected of the singer. This privilege of exercising
           individuality might even extend to the solid framework of the
           mele or oli and not merely to the filigree, the i’i, that
           enwreathed it.
[Page 161]
           It would follow from this, if the author is correct, that the
           musical critic of to-day must be content to generalize
           somewhat and must not be put out if the key is changed on
           repetition and if tempo and rhythm depart at times from their
           standard gait. It is questionable if even the experts in the
           palmy days of the hula attained such a degree of skill as to
           be faultless and logical in these matters.

           It has been said that modern music has molded and developed
           itself under the influence of three causes, (1) a
           comprehension of the nature of music itself, (2) a feeling or
           inspiration, and (3) the influence of poetry. Guided by this
           generalization, it may be said that Hawaiian poetry was the
           nurse and pedagogue of that stammering infant, Hawaiian
           music; that the words of the mele came before its rhythmic
           utterance in song; and that the first singers were the
           priests and the eulogists. Hawaiian poetry is far ahead of
           Hawaiian song in the power to move the feelings. A few words
           suffice the poet with which to set the picture before one’s
           eyes, and one picture quickly follows another; whereas the
           musical attachment remains weak and colorless, reminding one
           of the nursery pictures, in which a few skeletal lines
           represent the human frame.

           Let us now for refreshment and in continued pursuit of our
           subject listen to a song in the language and spirit of
           old-time Hawaii, composed, however, in the middle of the
           nineteenth century. It is given as arranged by Miss Lillian
           Byington, who took it down as she heard it sung by an old
           Hawaiian woman in the train of Queen Liliuokalani, and as the
           author has since heard it sung by Miss Byington’s pupils of
           the Kamehameha School for Girls. The song has been slightly
           idealized, perhaps, by trimming away some of the superfluous
           i’i, but not more than is necessary to make it highly
           acceptable to our ears and not so much as to take from it the
           plaintive bewitching tone that pervades the folk-music of
           Hawaii. The song, the mele, is not in itself much—a hint, a
           sketch, a sweep of the brush, a lilt of the imagination, a
           connotation of multiple images which no jugglery of literary
           art can transfer into any foreign speech. Its charm, like
           that of all folk-songs and of all romance, lies in its
           mysterious tug at the heartstrings.
[Page 162]

                         VIII—He Inoa no Kamehameha
                 (Old Mele—Kindness of H.R.H. Liliuokalani)
                        Arranged by LILLIAN BYINGTON

                       _He Inoa no Kamehameha_

                Aia i Waipi’o[315] Paka’alana,[316]
                Paepae[317] kapu ia o Liloa.[318]
                He aloha ka wahine pi’i ka pali,[319]
                Puili ana i ka hua ulei,
            5   I ka ai mo’a i ka lau laau.[320]
                Hoolaau[321] mai o ka welowelo.
                Ua pe’e pa Kai-a-ulu o Waimea,[322]
                Ua ola i ku’u kai,[323] Keoloewa,[324] e.

           [Footnote 315: _Waipi’o_. A deep valley on the windward side of

           [Footnote 316: _Paka’alana_. A temple and the residence of King
           Liloa in Waipi’o.]

           [Footnote 317: _Paepae_. The doorsill (of this temple), always
           an object of superstitious regard, but especially so in the
           case of this temple. Here it stands for the whole temple.]

           [Footnote 318: _Liloa_. A famous king of Hawaii who had his
           seat in Waipi’o.]

           [Footnote 319: _Wahine pii ka pali_, Haina-kolo, a mythical
           character, is probably the one alluded to. She married a king
           of Kukulu o Kahiki, and, being deserted by him, swam back to
           Hawaii. Arrived at Waipi’o in a famishing state, she climbed
           the heights and ate of the _ulei_ berries without first
           propitiating the local deity with a sacrifice. As an
           infliction of the offended deity, she became distraught and
           wandered away into the wilderness. Her husband repented of
           his neglect and after long search found her. Under kind
           treatment she regained her reason and the family was happily

           [Footnote 320: _Lau laau_. Leaves of plants.]

           [Footnote 321: _Hoolaau_. The last part of this word, _laau_,
           taken in connection with the last word of the previous verse,
           form a capital instance of word repetition. This was an
           artifice much used in Hawaiian poetry, both as a means of
           imparting tone-color and for the punning wit it was supposed
           to exhibit.]

           [Footnote 322: _Ua pe’e pa Kai-a-ulu o Waimea_. _Kai-a-ulu_ is
           a fierce rain-squall such as arises suddenly in the uplands
           of Waimea, Hawaii. The traveler, to protect himself, crouches
           (_pe’e_) behind a hummock of grass, or builds up in all haste
           a barricade (_pa_) of light stuff as a partial shelter
           against the oncoming storm.]

           [Footnote 323: _Kai_. Taken in connection with _Kai-a-ulu_ in
           the preceding verse, this is another instance of verse
           repetition. This word, the primary meaning of which is sea,
           or ocean, is used figuratively to represent a source of
           comfort or life.]

           [Footnote 324: _Keoloewa_. The name of one of the old gods
           belonging to the class called _akua noho_, a class of deities
           that were sent by the necromancers on errands of demoniacal
[Page 163]


                      _A Name-song of Kamehameha_

                In Waipi’o stands Paka’alana,
                The sacred shrine of Liloa.
                Love to the woman climbing the steep,
                Who gathered the ulei berries,
            5   Who ate of the uncooked herbs of the wild,      5
                Craving the swaying fruit like a hungry child.
                A covert I found from the storm,
                Life in my sea of delight.

           The text of this mele—said to be a name-song of Kamehameha
           V—as first secured had undergone some corruption which
           obscured the meaning. By calling to his aid an old Hawaiian
           in whose memory the song had long been stored the author was
           able to correct it. Hawaiian authorities are at variance as
           to its meaning. One party reads in it an exclusive allusion
           to characters that have flitted across the stage within the
           memory of people now living, while another, taking a more
           romantic and traditional view, finds in it a reference to an
           old-time myth—that of _Ke-anini-ula-o-ka-lani_—the chief
           character in which was _Haina-kolo_. (See note _e_.) After
           carefully considering both sides of the question it seems to
           the author that, while the principle of double allusion, so
           common in Hawaiian poetry, may here prevail, one is justified
           in giving prominence to the historico-mythological
           interpretation that is inwoven in the poem. It is a
           comforting thought that adhesion to this decision will suffer
           certain unstaged actions of crowned heads to remain in
           charitable oblivion.

           The music of this song is an admirable and faithful
           interpretation of the old Hawaiian manner of cantillation,
           having received at the hands of the foreign musician only so
           much trimming as was necessary to idealize it and make it
           reducible to our system of notation.

                                EXPLANATORY NOTE

           _Hoaeae_.—This term calls for a quiet, sentimental style of
           recitation, in which the fluctuating trill i’i, if it occurs
           at all, is not made prominent. It is contrasted with the
           _olioli_, in which the style is warmer and the fluctuations
           of the i’i are carried to the extreme.

           Thus far we have been considering the traditional indigenous
           music of the land. To come now to that which has been and is
           being produced in Hawaii by Hawaiians to-day, under
           influences from abroad, it will not be possible to mistake
           the presence in it of two strains: The foreign, showing its
           hand in the lopping away of much redundant foliage, has
           brought it largely within the compass of scientific and
           technical expression; the native element reveals itself, now
[Page 164] in plaintive reminiscence and now in a riotous _bonhommie_, a
           rollicking love of the sensuous, and in a style of delivery
           and vocal technique which demands a voluptuous throatiness,
           and which must be heard to be appreciated.

           The foreign influence has repressed and well-nigh driven from
           the field the monotonous fluctuations of the i’i, has lifted
           the starveling melodies of Hawaii out of the old ruts and
           enriched them with new notes, thus giving them a spring and
           _élan_ that appeal alike to the cultivated ear and to the
           popular taste of the day. It has, moreover, tapped the
           springs of folk-song that lay hidden in the Hawaiian nature.
           This same influence has also caused to germinate a Hawaiian
           appreciation of harmony and has endowed its music with new
           chords, the tonic and dominant, as well as with those of the
           subdominant and various minor chords.

           The persistence of the Hawaiian quality is, however, most
           apparent in the language and imagery of the song-poetry. This
           will be seen in the text of the various mele and oli now to
           be given. Every musician will also note for himself the
           peculiar intervals and shadings of these melodies as well as
           the odd effects produced by rhythmic syncopation.

           The songs must speak for themselves. The first song to be
           given, though dating from no longer ago than about the sixth
           decade of the last century, has already scattered its
           wind-borne seed and reproduced its kind in many variants,
           after the manner of other folklore. This love-lyric
           represents a type, very popular in Hawaii, that has continued
           to grow more and more personal and subjective in contrast
           with the objective epic style of the earliest Hawaiian mele.

                              IX—Song, Poli Anuanu
                            Arranged by Mrs. YARNDLEY
                               _Andante cantabile_

(By permission of Hubert Voss)]

[Page 165]

                 _Poli Anuanu_

                1. Aloha wale oe,
                Poli anuanu;
                Máeéle au
                I ke ánu, e.

                2. He anu e ka ua,
                He anu e ka wai,
                Li’a kuu ili
                I ke anu, e.

                3. Ina paha,
                Ooe a owau
                Ka i pu-kukú’i,
                I ke anu, e.

           He who would translate this love-lyric for the ear as well as
           for the mind finds himself handicapped by the limitations of
           our English speech—its scant supply of those orotund vowel
           sounds which flow forth with their full freight of breath in
           such words as _a-ló-ha_, _pó-li_, and _á-nu-á-nu_. These
           vocables belong to the very genius of the Hawaiian tongue.


                           _Cold Breast_

                1. Love fain compels to greet thee,
                Breast so cold, so cold.
                Chilled, benumbed am I
                With the pinching cold.

                2. How bitter cold the rainfall,
                Bitter cold the stream,
                Body all a-shiver,
                From the pinching cold.

                3. Pray, what think you?
                What if you and I
                Should our arms enfold,
                Just to keep off the cold?

           The song next given, dating from a period only a few years
           subsequent, is of the same class and general character as
           Poli Anuanu. Both words and music are peculiarly Hawaiian,
           though one may easily detect the foreign influence that
           presided over the shaping of the melody.
[Page 166]

                          X—Song, Hua-hua’i
                      Arranged by Mrs. YARNDLEY


                He aloha wau ia oe,
                I kau hana, hana pono;
                La’i ai ke kaunu me ia la,
                Hoapaapa i ke kino.


                Kaua i ka huahua’i,
                E uhene la’i pili koolua,
                Pu-kuku’i aku i ke koekoe,
                Anu lipo i ka palai.

[Page 167]



                O my love goes out to thee,
                For thy goodness and thy kindness.
                Fancy kindles at that other,
                Stirs, with her arts, my blood.


                You and I, then, for an outburst!
                Sing the joy of love’s encounter,
                Join arms against the invading damp,
                Deep chill of embowering ferns.

           The following is given, not for its poetical value and
           significance, but rather as an example of a song which the
           trained Hawaiian singer delights to roll out with an unctuous
           gusto that bids defiance to all description:

                               XI—Song, Ka Mawae
               By permission of the Hawaiian News Co., of Honolulu
                              Arranged by H. BERGER

           NOTE.—The music to which this hula song is set was produced
           by a member of the Hawaiian Band, Mr. Solomon A. Hiram, and
           arranged by Capt. H. Berger, to whom the author is indebted
           for permission to use it.

                          _Ka Mawae_

                A e ho’i ke aloha i ka mawae,
                I ke Kawelu-holu, Papi’ohúli.[325]

                Huli mai kou alo, ua anu wau,
                Ua pulu i ka ua, malule o-luna.

           [Footnote 325: _Papi’o-huli_. A slope in the western
           valley-side at the head of Nuuanu, where the tall grass
           (_kawelu_) waves (_holu_) in the wind.]

[Page 168]


                          _The Refuge_

                Return, O love, to the refuge,
                The wind-tossed covert of Papi’ohúli.

                Face now to my face; I’m smitten with cold,
                Soaked with the rain and benumbed.

                      XII—Like no a Like
            By permission of the Hawaiian News Co. (Ltd.)
                     Arranged by H. BERGER

                   _Like no a Like_

                1. Ua like no a like
                   Me ka ua kani-lehua;
                   Me he la e i mai ana,
                   Aia ilaila ke aloha.


                   Ooe no ka’u i upu ai,
                   Ku’u lei hiki ahiahi,
                   O ke kani o na manu,
                   I na hora o ke aumoe.

                2. Maanei mai kaua,
                   He welina pa’a i ka piko,
                   A nau no wau i imi mai,
                   A loaa i ke aheahe a ka makani.


[Page 169]



             1. When the rain drums loud on the leaf,
                It makes me think of my love;
                It whispers into my ear,
                Your love, your love—she is near.


                Thou art the end of my longing,
                The crown of evening’s delight,
                When I hear the cock blithe crowing,
                In the middle watch of the night.

             2. This way is the path for thee and me,
                A welcome warm at the end.
                I waited long for thy coming,
                And found thee in waft of the breeze.


                       XIII—Song, Pili Aoao
           By permission of the Hawaiian News Co. (Ltd.)
                       Arranged by H. BERGER

           NOTE.—The composer of the music and the author of the mele
           was a Hawaiian named John Meha, of the Hawaiian Band, who
           died some ten years ago, at the age of 40 years.

                1.    O ka ponaha iho a ke ao.
                      Ka pipi’o malie maluna,
                      Ike oe i ka hana, mikiala,
                      Nowelo i ka pili aoao.


                      Maikai ke aloha a ka ipo—
                      Hana mao ole i ka puuwai,
                      Houhou liilii i ka poli—
                      Nowelo i ka pili aoao.

                2.    A mau ka pili’na olu pono;
                      Huli a’e, hooheno malie,
                      Hanu liilii nahenahe,
                      Nowelo i ka pili aoao.


[Page 170]

           The author of the mele was a Hawaiian named John Meha, who
           died some years ago. He was for many years a member of the
           Hawaiian Band and set the words to the music given below,
           which has since been arranged by Captain Berger.


                         _Side by Side_

                1. Outspreads now the dawn,
                   Arching itself on high—
                   But look! a wondrous thing,
                   A thrill at touch of the side.


                   Most dear to the soul is a love-touch;
                   Its pulse stirs ever the heart
                   And gently throbs in the breast—
                   At thrill from the touch of the side.

                2. In time awakes a new charm
                   As you turn and gently caress;
                   Short comes, the breath—at
                   The thrill from the touch of the side.


           The fragments of Hawaiian music that have drifted down to us
           no doubt remain true to the ancient type, however much they
           may have changed in quality. They show the characteristics
           that stamp all primitive music—plaintiveness to the degree
           almost of sadness, monotony, lack of acquaintance with the
           full range of intervals that make up our diatonic scale, and
           therefore a measurable absence of that ear-charm we call
           melody. These are among its deficiencies.

           If, on the other hand, we set down the positive qualities by
           the possession of which it makes good its claim to be classed
           as music, we shall find that it has a firm hold on rhythm.
           This is indeed one of the special excellencies of Hawaiian
           music. Added to this, we find that it makes a limited use of
           such-intervals as the third, fifth, fourth, and at the same
           time resorts extravagantly, as if in compensation, to a fine
           tone-carving that divides up the tone-interval into fractions
           so much less than the semitone that our ears are almost
           indifferent to them, and are at first inclined to deny their
           existence. This minute division of the tone, or step, and
           neglect at the same time of the broader harmonic intervals,
           reminds one of work in which the artist charges his picture
           with unimportant detail, while failing in attention to the
           strong outlines. Among its merits we must not forget to
           mention a certain quality of tone-color which inheres in the
           Hawaiian tongue and which greatly tends to the enhancement of
           Hawaiian music, especially when thrown into rhythmic forms.

           The first thing, then, to repeat, that will strike the
           auditor on listening to this primitive music will be its lack
           of melody. The voice goes wavering and lilting along like a
           canoe on a rippling ocean.

[Illustration: PLATE XVIII

[Page 171]
           Then, of a sudden, it swells upward, as if lifted by some
           wave of emotion; and there for a time it travels with the
           same fluctuating movement, soon descending to its old
           monotone, until again moved to rise on the breast of some
           fresh impulse. The intervals sounded may be, as already said,
           a third, or a fifth, or a fourth; but the whole movement
           leads nowhere; it is an unfinished sentence. Yet, in spite of
           all these drawbacks and of this childish immaturity, the
           amateur and enthusiast finds himself charmed and held as if
           in the clutch of some Old-World spell, and this at what
           others will call the dreary and monotonous intoning of the

           In matters that concern the emotions it is rarely possible to
           trace with certainty the lines that lead up from effect to
           cause. Such is the nature of art. If we would touch the cause
           which lends attractiveness to Hawaiian music, we must look
           elsewhere than to melody. In the belief of the author the
           two elements that conspire for this end are rhythm and
           tone-color, which comes of a delicate feeling for

           The hall-mark of Hawaiian music is rhythm, for the Hawaiians
           belong to that class of people who can not move hand or foot
           or perform any action except they do it rhythmically. Not
           alone in poetry and music and the dance do we find this
           recurring accent of pleasure, but in every action of life it
           seems to enter as a timekeeper and regulator, whether it be
           the movement of a fingerful of poi to the mouth or the swing
           of a _kahili_ through the incense-laden air at the burial of
           a chief.

           The typical Hawaiian rhythm is a measure of four beats,
           varied at times by a 2–rhythm, or changed by syncopation into
           a 3–rhythm.

           These people have an emotional susceptibility and a sympathy
           with environment that belongs to the artistic temperament;
           but their feelings, though easily stirred, are not persistent
           and ideally centered; they readily wander away from any
           example or pattern. In this way may be explained their
           inclination to lapse from their own standard of rhythm into
           inexplicable syncopations.

           As an instance of sympathy with environment, an experience
           with a hula dancer may be mentioned. Wishing to observe the
           movement of the dance in time with the singing of the mele,
           the author asked him to perform the two at one time. He made
           the attempt, but failed. At length, bethinking himself, he
           drew off his coat and bound it about his loins after the
           fashion of a pa-ú, such as is worn by hula dancers. He at
           once caught inspiration, and was thus enabled to perform the
           double rôle of dancer and singer.

           It has been often remarked by musical teachers who have had
           experience with these islanders that as singers they are
           prone to flat the tone and to drag the time, yet under the
           stimulus of emotion they show the ability to acquit
           themselves in these respects with great credit. The native
[Page 172] inertia of their being demands the spur of excitement to keep
           them up to the mark. While human nature everywhere shares in
           this weakness, the tendency seems to be greater in the
           Hawaiian than in some other races of no higher intellectual
           and esthetic advancement.

           Another quality of the Hawaiian character which reenforces
           this tendency is their spirit of communal sympathy. That is
           but another way of saying that they need the stimulus of the
           crowd, as well as of the occasion, even to make them keep
           step to the rhythm of their own music. In all of these points
           they are but an epitome of humanity.

           Before closing this special subject, the treatment of which
           has grown to an unexpected length, the author feels
           constrained to add one more illustration of Hawaii’s musical
           productions. The Hawaiian national hymn on its poetical side
           may be called the last appeal of royalty to the nation’s
           feeling of race-pride. The music, though by a foreigner, is
           well suited to the words and is colored by the environment in
           which the composer has spent the best years of his life. The
           whole production seems well fitted to serve as the clarion of
           a people that need every help which art and imagination can

                               XIV—Hawaii Ponoí
                            Words by King KALAKAUA
                            Composed by H. BERGER

[Illustration: PU (TRITON TRITONIS)

[Page 173]

[Page 174]

                 _HAWAI’I PONOI_

                1. Hawai’i ponoi,
                   Nana i kou Moi,
                   Ka lani Ali’i,
                   Ke Ali’i.


                   Makua lani, e,
                   Kamehameha, e,
                   Na kaua e pale,
                   Me ka ihe.

                2. Hawai’i ponoi,
                   Nana i na ’li’i,
                   Na pua muli kou,
                   Na poki’i.


                3. Hawai’i ponoi
                   E ka lahui, e,
                   O kau hana nui
                   E ui, e.


[Page 175]


                      _Hawaii Ponoi_

                1. Hawaii’s very own,
                   Look to your sovran Lord,
                   Your chief that’s heaven-born,
                   Who is your King.


                   Protector, heaven-sent,
                   Kamehameha great,
                   To vanquish every foe,
                   With conquering spear.

                2. Men of Hawaii’s land,
                   Look to your native chiefs,
                   Your sole surviving lords,
                   The nation’s pride.


                3. Men of Hawaiian stock,
                   My nation ever dear,
                   With loins begirt for work,
                   Strive with your might.

[Page 176]


           Gesture is a voiceless speech, a short-hand dramatic picture.
           The Hawaiians were adepts in this sort of art. Hand and foot,
           face and eye, and those convolutions of gray matter which are
           linked to the organs of speech, all worked in such harmony
           that, when the man spoke, he spoke not alone with his vocal
           organs, but all over, from head to foot, every part adding
           its emphasis to the utterance. Von Moltke could be reticent
           in six languages; the Hawaiian found it impossible to be
           reticent in one.

           The hands of the hula dancer are ever going out in gesture,
           her body swaying and pivoting itself in attitudes of
           expression. Her whole physique is a living and moving picture
           of feeling, sentiment, and passion. If the range of thought
           is not always deep or high, it is not the fault of her art,
           but the limitations of her original endowment, limitations of
           hereditary environment, the universal limitations imposed on
           the translation from spirit into matter.

           The art of gesture was one of the most important branches
           taught by the kumu. When the hula expert, the _olohe_, who
           has entered the halau as a visitor, utters the prayer (p.
           47), “O Laka, give grace to the feet of Pohaku, and to her
           bracelets and anklets; give comeliness to the figure and
           skirt of Luukia. To each one give gesture and voice. O Laka,
           make beautiful the _lei_; inspire the dancers to stand before
           the assembly,” his meaning was clear and unmistakable, and
           showed his high valuation of this method of expression. We
           are not, however, to suppose that the kumu-hula, whatever his
           artistic attainments, followed any set of formulated
           doctrines in his teaching. His science was implicit,
           unformulated, still enfolded in the silence of
           unconsciousness, wrapped like a babe in its mother’s womb. To
           apply a scientific name to his method, it might be called
           inductive, for he led his pupils along the plain road of
           practical illustration, adding example to example, without
           the confusing aid of preliminary rule or abstract
           proposition, until his pupils had traveled over the whole
           ground covered by his own experience.

           Each teacher went according to the light that was in him, not
           forgetting the instructions of his own kumu, but using them
           as a starting point, a basis on which to build as best he
           knew. There were no books, no manuals of instruction, to pass
           from hand to hand and thus secure uniformity of instruction.
           Then, again, it was a long journey from Hawaii to Kauai, or
[Page 177] even from one island to another. The different islands, as a
           rule, were not harnessed to one another under the same
           political yoke; even districts of the same island were not
           unfrequently under the independent sway of warring chiefs; so
           that for long periods the separation, even the isolation, in
           matters of dramatic art and practice was as complete as in

           The method pursued by the kumu may be summarized as follows:
           Having labored to fix the song, the mele or oli, in the minds
           of his pupils, the _haumana_, he appointed some one to recite
           the words of the piece, while the class, standing with close
           attention to the motions of the kumu and with ears open at
           the same time to the words of the leader, were required to
           repeat the kumu’s gestures in pantomime until he judged them
           to have arrived at a sufficient degree of perfection. That
           done, the class took up the double task of recitation joined
           to that of gesture. In his attempt to translate his concepts
           into physical signs the Hawaiian was favored not only by his
           vivid power of imagination, but by his implicit philosophy,
           for the Hawaiian looked at things from a physical plane—a
           safe ground to stand upon—albeit he had glimpses at times
           far into the depths of ether. When he talked about spirit, he
           still had in mind a form of matter. A god was to him but an
           amplified human being.

           It is not the purpose to attempt a scientific classification
           of gesture as displayed in the halau. The most that can be
           done will be to give a few familiar generic illustrations
           which are typical and representative of a large class.

           The _pali_, the precipice, stands for any difficulty or
           obstacle of magnitude. The Hawaiian represents this in his
           dramatic, pictorial manner with the hand vertically posed on
           the outstretched arm, the palm of the hand looking away. If
           it is desired to represent this wall of obstacle as being
           surmounted, the hand is pushed forward, and at the same time
           somewhat inclined, perhaps, from its rigid perpendicularity,
           the action being accompanied by a series of slight lifting or
           waving movements as of climbing.

           Another way of dramatically picturing this same concept, that
           of the pali as a wall of obstacle, is by holding the forearm
           and hand vertically posed with the palmar aspect facing the
           speaker. This method of expression, while perhaps bolder and
           more graphic than that before mentioned, seems more purely
           oratorical and less graceful, less subtly pictorial and
           elegant than the one previously described, and therefore less
           adapted to the hula. For it must be borne in mind that the
           hula demanded the subordination of strength to grace and
           elegance. We may at the same time be sure that the halau
           showed individuality in its choice of methods, that it varied
           its technique and manner of expression at different times and
           places, according to the different conception of one or
           another kumu.
[Page 178]
           Progression, as in walking or traveling, is represented by
           means of a forward undulatory movement of the outstretched
           arm and hand, palm downward, in a horizontal plane. This
           gesture is rhythmic and beautifully pictorial. If the other
           hand also is made a partner in the gesture, the significance
           would seem to be extended, making it include, perhaps, a
           larger number in the traveling company. The mere extension of
           the arm, the back-hand advanced, would serve the purpose of
           indicating removal, travel, but in a manner less gracious and

           To represent an open level space, as of a sand-beach or of
           the earth-plain, the Hawaiian very naturally extended his
           arms and open hands—palms downward, of course—the degree of
           his reaching effort being in a sense a measure of the scope

           To represent the act of covering or protecting oneself with
           clothing, the Hawaiian placed the hollow of each hand over
           the opposite shoulder with a sort of hugging action. But
           here, again, one can lay down no hard and fast rule. There
           was differentiation; the pictorial action might well vary
           according to the actor’s conception of the three or more
           generic forms that constituted the varieties of Hawaiian
           dress, which were the _málo_ of the man, the _pa-ú_ of the
           woman, and the decent _kiheí_, a toga-like robe, which, like
           the blanket of the North American Indian, was common to both
           sexes. Still another gesture, a sweeping of the hands from
           the shoulder down toward the ground, would be used to
           indicate that costly feather robe, the _ahuula_, which was
           the regalia and prerogative of kings and chiefs.

           The Hawaiian places his hands, palms up, edge to edge, so
           that the little finger of one hand touches its fellow of the
           other hand. By this action he means union or similarity. He
           turns one palm down, so that the little finger and thumb of
           opposite hands touch each other. The significance of the
           action is now wholly reversed; he now means disunion,

           To indicate death, the death of a person, the finger-tips,
           placed in apposition, are drawn away from each other with a
           sweeping gesture and at the same time lowered till the palms
           face the ground. In this case also we find diversity. One old
           man, well acquainted with hula matters, being asked to
           signify in pantomimic fashion “the king is sick,” went
           through the following motions: He first pointed upward, to
           indicate the heaven-born one, the king; then he brought his
           hands to his body and threw his face into a painful grimace.
           To indicate the death of the king he threw his hands upward
           toward the sky, as if to signify a removal by flight. He
           admitted the accuracy of the gesture, previously described,
           in which the hands are moved toward the ground.

           There are, of course, imitative and mimetic gestures galore,
           as of paddling, swimming, diving, angling, and the like,
[Page 179] which one sees every day of his life and which are to be
           regarded as parts of that universal shorthand vocabulary of
           unvocalized speech that is used the world over from Naples to
           Honolulu, rather than stage-conventions of the halau. It will
           suffice to mention one motion or gesture of this sort which
           the author has seen used with dramatic effect. An old man was
           describing the action of Hiiaka (the little sister of Pele)
           while clearing a passage for herself and her female companion
           with a great slaughter of the reptilian demon-horde of _ma’o_
           that came out in swarms to oppose the progress of the goddess
           through their territory while she was on her way to fetch
           Prince Lohiau. The goddess, a delicate piece of humanity in
           her real self, made short work of the little devils who
           covered the earth and filled the air. Seizing one after
           another, she bit its life out, or swallowed it as if it had
           been a shrimp. The old man represented the action most
           vividly: pressing his thumb, forefinger, and middle finger
           into a cone, he brought them quickly to his mouth, while he
           snapped his jaws together like a dog seizing a morsel, an
           action that pictured the story better than any words.

           It might seem at first blush that facial expression,
           important as it is, owing to its short range of
           effectiveness, should hardly be put in the same category with
           what may be called the major stage-gestures that were in
           vogue in the halau. But such a judgment would certainly be
           mistaken. The Greek use of masks on the stage for their
           “carrying power” testified to their valuation of the
           countenance as a semaphore of emotion; at the same time their
           resort to this artifice was an implicit recognition of the
           desirability of bringing the window of the soul nearer to the
           audience. The Hawaiians, though they made no use of masks in
           the halau, valued facial expression no less than the Greeks.
           The means for the study of this division of the subject, from
           the nature of the case, is somewhat restricted and the
           pursuit of illustrations makes it necessary to go outside of
           the halau.

           The Hawaiian language was one of hospitality and invitation.
           The expression _mai_, or _komo mai_, this way, or come in,
           was the most common of salutations. The Hawaiian sat down to
           meat before an open door; he ate his food in the sight of all
           men, and it was only one who dared being denounced as a churl
           who would fail to invite with word and gesture the passer-by
           to come in and share with him. This gesture might be a
           sweeping, downward, or sidewise motion of the hand in which
           the palm faced and drew toward the speaker. This seems to
           have been the usual form when the two parties were near to
           each other; if they were separated by any considerable
           distance, the fingers would perhaps more likely be turned
           upward, thus making the signal more distinctly visible and at
           the same time more emphatic.
[Page 180]
           In the expression of unvoiced assent and dissent the Hawaiian
           practised refinements that went beyond our ordinary
           conventions. To give assent he did not find it necessary so
           much as to nod the head; a lifting of the eyebrows sufficed.
           On the other hand, the expression of dissent was no less
           simple as well as decisive, being attained by a mere grimace
           of the nose. This manner of indicating dissent was not,
           perhaps, without some admixture of disdain or even scorn; but
           that feeling, if predominant, would call for a reenforcement
           of the gesture by some additional token, such as a pouting of
           the lips accompanied by an upward toss of the chin. A more
           impersonal and coldly businesslike way of manifesting a
           negative was by an outward sweep of the hand, the back of the
           hand being turned to the applicant. Such a gesture, when
           addressed to a huckster or a beggar—a rare bird, by the way,
           in old Hawaii—was accepted as final.

           There was another method of signifying a most emphatic, even
           contemptuous, no. In this the tongue is protruded and allowed
           to hang down flat and wide like the flaming banner of a
           panting hound. A friend states that the Maoris made great use
           of gestures with the tongue in their dances, especially in
           the war-dance, sometimes letting it hang down broad, flat,
           and long, directly in front, sometimes curving it to right or
           left, and sometimes stuffing it into the hollow of the cheek
           and puffing out one side of the face. This manner—these
           methods it might be said—of facial expression, so far as
           observed and so far as can be learned, were chiefly of
           feminine practice. The very last gesture—that of the
           protruded tongue—is not mentioned as one likely to be
           employed on the stage in the halau, certainly not in the
           performance of what one would call the serious hulas. But it
           might well have been employed in the hula ki’i (see p. 91),
           which was devoted, as we have seen, to the portrayal of the
           lighter and more comic aspects of daily life.

           It is somewhat difficult to interpret the meaning of the
           various attitudes and movements of the feet and legs. Their
           remoteness from the centers of emotional control, their
           detachment from the vortices of excitement, and their seeming
           restriction to mechanical functions make them seem but
           slightly sympathetic with those tides of emotion that speed
           through the vital parts of the frame. But, though somewhat
           aloof from, they are still under the dominion of, the same
           emotional laws that govern the more central parts.

                Man is all sympathy one part with another;
                For head with heart hath joyful amity,
                And both with moon and tides.

           The illustrations brought to illuminate this division of the
           subject will necessarily be of the most general application
           and will seem to belong rather to the domain of oratory than
[Page 181] to that of dramatic or stage expression, by which is meant
           expression fitted for the purposes of the halau.


           To begin with a general proposition, the attitude of the feet
           and legs must be sympathetic with that of the other parts of
           the body. When standing squarely on both feet and looking
           directly forward, the action may be called noncommittal,
           general; but if the address is specialized and directed to a
           part of the audience, or if attention is called to some
           particular region, the face will naturally turn in that
           direction. To attain this end, while the leg and arm of the
           corresponding side will be drawn back, the leg and arm of the
           opposite side will be advanced, thus causing the speaker to
           face the point of address. If the speaker or the actor
           addresses himself, then, to persons, or to an object, on his
           right, the left leg will be the one more in advance and the
           left arm will be the one on which the burden of gesture will
           fall, and vice versa.

           It would be a mistake to suppose that every motion or gesture
           displayed by the actors on the stage of the halau was
           significant of a purpose. To do that would be to ascribe to
           them a flawless perfection and strength that no body of
           artists have ever attained. Many of their gestures, like the
           rhetoric of a popular orator, were mere flourishes and
           ornaments. With a language so full of seemingly superfluous
           parts, it could not well be otherwise than that their
           rhetoric of gesture should be overloaded with flourishes.

           The whole subject of gesture, including facial expression, is
           worthy of profound study, for it is linked to the basic
           elements of psychology. The illustrations adduced touch only
           the skirts of the subject; but they must suffice. An
           exhaustive analysis, the author believes, would show an
           intimate and causal relation between these facial expressions
           and the muscular movements that are the necessary
           accompaniments or resultants of actual speech. To illustrate,
           the pronunciation of the Hawaiian word _ae_ (pronounced like
           our aye), meaning “yes,” involves the opening of the mouth to
           its full extent; and this action, when accomplished, results
           in a sympathetic lifting of the eyebrows. It is this ultimate
           and completing part of the action which the Hawaiian woman
           adopts as her semaphore of assent.

           One of the puzzling things about gesture comes when we try to
           think of it as a science rooted in psychology. It is then we
           discover variations presented by different peoples in
           different lands, which force us to the conviction that in
           only a part of its domain does it base itself on the strict
           principles of psychology. Gesture, like language, seems to be
           made up in good measure of an opportunist growth that springs
           up in answer to man’s varying needs and conditions. The
           writer hopes he will not be charged with begging the
           question in suggesting that another element which we must
[Page 182] reckon with as influential in fashioning and stereotyping
           gesture is tradition and convention. To illustrate—the actor
           who took the rôle of Lord Dundreary in the first performance
           of the play of the same name accidentally made a fantastic
           misstep while crossing the stage. The audience was amused,
           and the actor, quick to avail himself of any open door,
           followed the lead thus hinted at. The result is that he won
           great applause and gave birth to a mannerism which has
           well-nigh become a stage convention.
[Page 183]

                           XXIII.—THE HULA PA-HUA

           The hula _pa-hua_ was a dance of the classical times that has
           long been obsolete. Its last exhibition, so far as
           ascertained, was in the year 1846, on the island of Oahu. In
           this performance both the olapa and the hoopaa cantillated
           the mele, while the latter squatted on the floor. Each one
           was armed with a sharp stick of wood fashioned like a
           javelin, or a Hawaiian spade, the _o-ó_; and with this he
           made motions, thrusting to right and to left; whether in
           imitation of the motions of a soldier or of a farmer could
           not be learned. The gestures of these actors were in perfect
           time with the rhythm of the mele.

           The dance-movements performed by the olapa, as the author has
           heard them described, were peculiar, not an actual rotation,
           but a sort of half-turn to one side and then to the other, an
           advance followed by a retreat. While doing this the olapa,
           who were in two divisions, marked the time of the movement by
           clinking together two pebbles which they held in each hand.

           The use of the pebbles after the manner of castanets, the
           division of the dancers into two sets, their advance and
           retreat toward and away from each other are all suggestive of
           the Spanish bolero or fandango. The resemblance went deeper
           than the surface. The prime motive of the song, the mele,
           also is the same, love in its different phases even to its
           most frenzied manifestations.


                Pa au i ka ihe a Kane;[326]
                Nana ka maka ia Koolau;[327]
                Kau ka opua[327] ma ka moana.
                Lu’u a e-a, lu’u a e-a,[329]
            5   Hiki i Wai-ko-loa.
                Aole loa ke kula
                I ka pai-lani a Kane.[330]
                Ke kane[331] ia no hoi ia
                Ka hula pe-pe’e
           10   A ka hale ku’i.
                Ku’i oe a lono Kahiki-nui;
                Hoolei ia iluna o Kaua-loa,
                Ka lihilihi pua o ka makemake.
                Mao ole ke Koolau i ka lihilihi.
           13   He lihi kuleana ia no Puna.
                O ko’u puni no ia o ka ike maka.
                Aohe makamaka o ka hale, ua hele oe;
                Nawai la au e hookipa
                I keia mahaoi ana mai nei o ka loa?
           20   He makemake no au e ike maka;
                I hookahi no po, le’a ke kaunu,
                Ka hana mao ole a ke anu.
                He anu mawaho, a he hu’i ma-loko.
                A ilaila laua la, la’i pono iho.
           25   Ua pono oe o kaua, ua alu ka moena;
                Ka hana mau a ka Inu-wai;
                Mao ole i ka nui kino.
                Ku’u kino keia mauna ia ha’i.
                E Ku, e hoolei la!
           30   A ua noa!

           [Footnote 327: _Ihe a Kane_. The spear of Kane. What else can
           this he than that old enemy to man’s peace and comfort, love,

           [Footnote 328: _Koolau_. The name applied to the weather side
           of an island; the direction in which one would naturally turn
           first to judge of the weather.]

           [Footnote 329: _Opua_. A bunch of clouds; a cloud-omen; a
           heavenly phenomenon; a portent. In this case it probably
           means a lover. The present translation, is founded on this

           [Footnote 330: _Lu’u a e-a_. To dive and then come up to take
           breath, as one does in swimming out to sea against the
           incoming breakers, or as one might do in escaping from a
           pursuer, or in avoiding detection, after the manner of a

           [Footnote 331: _A Kane_ and _Ke kane_. Instances of
           word-repetition, previously mentioned as a fashion much used
           in Hawaiian poetry. See instances also of the same figure in
           lines 13 and 14 and in lines 16 and 17.]
[Page 184]



                I am smitten with spear of Kane;
                Mine eyes with longing scan Koolau;
                Behold the love-omen hang o’er the sea.
                I dive and come up, dive and come up;
            5   Thus I reach my goal Wai-ko-loa.
                The width of plain is a trifle
                To the joyful spirit of Kane.
                Aye, a husband, and patron is he
                To the dance of the bended knee,
           10   In the hall of the stamping feet.
                Stamp, till the echo reaches Kahiki;
                Still pluck you a wreath by the way
                To crown your fondest ambition;
                A wreath not marred by the salt wind
           15   That plays with the skirts of Puna.
                I long to look eye into eye.
                Friendless the house, you away;
                Pray who will receive, who welcome,
                This guest uninvited from far?
           20   I long for one (soul-deep) gaze,
                One night of precious communion;
                Such a flower wilts not in the cold—
                Cold without, a tumult within.
                What bliss, if we two were together!
           25   You are the blest of us twain;
                The mat bends under your form.
                The thirsty wind, it still rages,
[Page 185]      Appeased not with her whole body.
                My body is pledged to another.
           30   Crown it, Ku, crown it.
                Now the service is free!

           Some parts of this mele, which is a love-song, have defied
           the author’s most strenuous efforts to penetrate their deeper
           meaning. No Hawaiian consulted has made a pretense of
           understanding it wholly. The Philistines of the middle of the
           nineteenth century, into whose hands it fell, have not helped
           matters by the emendations and interpolations with which they
           slyly interlarded the text, as if to set before us in a
           strong light the stigmata of degeneracy from which they were

           The author has discarded from the text two verses which
           followed verse 28:

                Hai’na ia mai ka puana:
                Ka wai anapa i ke kala.


                Declare to me now the riddle:
                The waters that flash on the plain.

           The author has refrained from casting out the last two
           verses, though in his judgment they are entirely out of place
           and were not in the mele originally.

[Page 186]

                                XXIV—THE HULA PELE

           The Hawaiian drama could lay hold of no worthier theme than
           that offered by the story of Pele. In this epic we find the
           natural and the supernatural, the everyday events of nature
           and the sublime phenomena of nature’s wonderland, so
           interwoven as to make a story rich in strong human and deific
           coloring. It is true that the genius of the Hawaiian was not
           equal to the task of assembling the dissevered parts and of
           combining into artistic unity the materials his own
           imagination had spun. This very fact, however, brings us so
           much nearer to the inner workshop of the Hawaiian mind.

           The story of Pele is so long and complicated that only a
           brief abstract of it can be offered now:

           Pele, the goddess of the volcano, in her dreams and
           wanderings in spirit-form, met and loved the handsome Prince
           Lohiau. She would not be satisfied with mere spiritual
           intercourse; she demanded the sacrament of bodily presence.
           Who should be the ambassador to bring the youth from his
           distant home on Kauai? She begged her grown-up sisters to
           attempt the task. They foresaw the peril and declined the
           thankless undertaking. Hiiaka, the youngest and most
           affectionate, accepted the mission; but, knowing her
           sister’s evil temper, strove to obtain from Pele a guaranty
           that her own forests and the life of her bosom friend Hopoe
           should be safeguarded during her absence.

           Hiiaka was accompanied by Wahine-oma’o—the woman in green—a
           woman as beautiful as herself. After many adventures they
           arrived at Haena and found Lohiau dead and in his sepulchre,
           a sacrifice to the jealousy of Pele. They entered the cave,
           and after ten days of prayer and incantation Hiiaka had the
           satisfaction of seeing the body of Lohiau warmed and animated
           by the reentrance of the spirit; and the company, now of
           three, soon started on the return to Kilauea.

           The time consumed by Hiiaka in her going and doing and
           returning had been so long that Pele was moved to
           unreasonable jealousy and, regardless of her promise to her
           faithful sister, she devastated with fire the forest parks of
           Hiiaka and sacrificed the life of Hiiaka’s bosom friend, the
           innocent and beautiful Hopoe.

           Hiiaka and Lohiau, on their arrival at Kilauea, seated
           themselves on its ferny brink, and there, in the open view of
           Pele’s court, Hiiaka, in resentment at the broken faith of
           her sister and in defiance of her power, invited and received
[Page 187] from Lohiau the kisses and dalliance which up to that time
           she had repelled. Pele, in a frenzy of passion, overwhelmed
           her errant lover, Lohiau, with fire, turned his body into a
           pillar of rock, and convulsed earth and sea. Only through the
           intervention of the benevolent peacemaking god Kane was the
           order of the world saved from utter ruin.

           The ancient Hawaiians naturally regarded the Pele hula with
           special reverence by reason of its mythological importance,
           and they selected it for performance on occasions of gravity
           as a means of honoring the kings and alii of the land. They
           would have considered its presentation on common occasions,
           or in a spirit of levity, as a great impropriety.

           In ancient times the performance of the hula Pele, like that
           of all other plays, was prefaced with prayer and sacrifice.
           The offering customarily used in the service of this hula
           consisted of salt crystals and of luau made from the delicate
           unrolled taro leaf. This was the gift demanded of every pupil
           seeking admission to the school of the hula, being looked
           upon as an offering specially acceptable to Pele, the patron
           of this hula. In the performance of the sacrifice teacher and
           pupil approached and stood reverently before the kuahu while
           the former recited a mele, which was a prayer to the goddess.
           The pupil ate the luau, the teacher placed the package of
           salt on the altar, and the service was complete.

           Both olapa and hoopaa took part in the performance of this
           hula. There was little or no moving about, but the olapa did
           at times sink down to a kneeling position. The performance
           was without instrumental accompaniment, but with abundant
           appropriate gestures. The subjects treated of were of such
           dignity and interest as to require no extraneous

           Perusal of the mele which follows will show that the story of
           Pele dated back of her arrival in this group:

           _He Oli—O ka mele mua keia o ka hula Pele_

                Mai Kahiki ka wahine, o Pele,
                Mai ka aina i Pola-pola,
                Mai ka punohu ula a Kane,
                Mai ke ao lalapa i ka lani,
            5   Mai ka opua lapa i Kahiki.

                Lapa-ku i Hawaii ka wahine, o Pele;
                Kalai i ka wa’a Houna-i-a-kea,
                Kou wa’a, e Ka-moho-alii.
                I apo’a ka moku i pa’a;
           10   Ua hoa ka wa’a o ke Akua,

                Ka wa’a o Kane-kalai-honua.
                Holo mai ke au, a’ea’e Pele-honua-mea;
                A’ea’e ka Lani, ai-puni’a i ka moku;
                A’ea’e Kini o ke Akua,
[Page 188] 15   Noho a’e o Malau.
                Ua ka ia ka liu o ka wa’a.
                Ia wai ka hope, ka uli o ka wa’a, e ne hoa ’lii?
                Ia Pele-honua-mea.
                A’ea’e kai hoe oluna o ka wa’a.

           20   O Ku ma, laua o Lono,
                Noho i ka honua aina,
                Kau aku i hoolewa moku.
                Hiiaka, noiau, he akua,
                Ku ae, hele a noho i ka hale o Pele.

           25   Huahua’i Kahiki, lapa uila, e Pele.
                E hua’i, e!


           _A Song—The first song of the hula Pele_

                From Kahiki came the woman, Pele,
                From the land of Pola-pola,
                From the red cloud of Kane,
                Cloud blazing in the heavens,
            5   Fiery cloud-pile in Kahiki.

                Eager desire for Hawaii seized the woman, Pele;
                She carved the canoe, Honua-i-a-kea,
                Your canoe, O Ka-moho-alii.
                They push the work on the craft to completion.
           10   The lashings of the god’s canoe are done,
                The canoe of Kane, the world-maker.

                The tides swirl, Pele-honua-mea o’ermounts them;
                The god rides the waves, sails about the island;
                The host of little gods ride the billows;
           15   Malau takes his seat;
                One bales out the bilge of the craft.
                Who shall sit astern, be steersman, O, princes?
                Pele of the yellow earth.
                The splash of the paddles dashes o’er the canoe.

           20   Ku and his fellow, Lono,
                Disembark on solid land;
                They alight on a shoal.
                Hiiaka, the wise one, a god,
                Stands up, goes to stay at the house of Pele.

           25   Lo, an eruption in Kahiki!
                A flashing of lightning, O Pele!
                Belch forth, O Pele!

           Tradition has it that Pele was expelled from Kahiki by her
           brothers because of insubordination, disobedience, and
           disrespect to their mother, _Honua-mea_, sacred land. (If
           Pele in Kahiki conducted herself as she has done in Hawaii,
           rending and scorching the bosom of mother
           earth—Honua-Mea—it is not to be wondered that her brothers
           were anxious to get rid of her.) She voyaged north. Her
[Page 189] first stop was at the little island of Ka-ula, belonging to
           the Hawaiian group. She tunneled into the earth, but the
           ocean poured in and put a stop to her work. She had the same
           experience on Lehua, on Kiihau, and on the large island of
           Kauai. She then moved on to Oahu, hoping for better results;
           but though she tried both sides of the island, first mount
           Ka-ala—the fragrant—and then Konahuanui, she still found
           the conditions unsatisfactory. She passed on to Molokai,
           thence to Lanai, and to West Maui, and East Maui, at which
           last place she dug the immense pit of Hale-a-ka-la; but
           everywhere she was unsuccessful. Still journeying east and
           south, she crossed the wide Ale-nui-haha channel and came to
           Hawaii, and, after exploring in all directions, she was
           satisfied to make her home at Kilauea. Here is (_ka piko o ka
           honua_) the navel of the earth. Apropos of this effort of
           Pele to make a fire-pit for herself, see the song for the
           hula kuolo (p. 86), “A pit lies (far) to the east.”


                A Kauai, a ke olewa [332] iluna,
                Ka pua lana i kai o Wailua;
                Nana mai Pele ilaila;
                E waiho aku ana o Ahu.[333]
            5   Aloha i ka wai niu o ka aina;
                E ala mai ana mokihana,
                Wai auau o Hiiaka.
                Hoo-paapaa Pele ilaila;
                Aohe Kau [334] e ulu ai.
           10   Keehi aku Pele i ka ale kua-loloa,

                He onohi no Pele, ka oaka o ka lani, la.
                Eli-eli, kau mai!



                    To Kauai, lifted in ether,
                    A floating flower at sea off Wailua—
                    That way Pele turns her gaze,
                    She’s bidding adieu to Oahu,
                5   Loved land of new wine of the palm.       5
                    There comes a perfumed waft—mokihana—
                    The bath of the maid Hiiaka.
                    Scene it was once of Pele’s contention,
                    Put by for future attention.
               10   Her foot now spurns the long-backed wave;       10
                    The phosphor burns like Pele’s eye,
                    Or a meteor-flash in the sky.
                    Finished the prayer, enter, possess!

           [Footnote 332: _Olewa_. Said to be the name of a wooded region
           high up on the mountain of Kauai. It is here treated as if it
           meant the heavens or the blue ether. Its origin is the same
           with the word _lewa_, the upper regions of the air.]

           [Footnote 333: _O Ahu_. In this instance the article still
           finds itself disunited from its substantive. To-day we have
           _Oahu_ and _Ola’a_.]

           [Footnote 334: _Kau_, The summer; time of warm weather; the
           growing season.]
[Page 190]
           The incidents and allusions in this mele belong to the story
           of Pele’s journey in search of Lohiau, the lover she met in
           her dreams, and describe her as about to take flight from
           Oahu to Kauai (verse 4).

           Hiiaka’s bath, _Wai auau o Hiiaka_ (verse 7), which was the
           subject of Pele’s contention (verse 8), was a spring of water
           which Pele had planted at Huleia on her arrival from Kahiki.
           The ones with whom Pele had the contention were
           Kukui-lau-manienie and Kukui-lauhanahana, the daughters of
           Lima-loa, the god of the mirage. These two women lived at
           Huleia near the spring. Kamapua’a, the swinegod, their
           accepted lover, had taken the liberty to remove the spring
           from the rocky bed where Pele had planted it to a neighboring
           hill. Pele was offended and demanded of the two women:

           “Where is my spring of water?”

           “Where, indeed, is your spring? You belong to Hawaii. What
           have you to do with any spring on Kauai?” was their answer.

           “I planted a clean spring here on this rock,” said Pele.

           “You have no water here,” they insisted; “your springs are on

           “If I were not going in search of my husband Lohiau,” said
           Pele, “I would set that spring back again in its old place.”

           “You haven’t the power to do that,” said they. “The son of
           Kahiki-ula (Kama-puaa) moved it over there, and you can’t
           undo his action.”

           The eye of Pele, _He onohi no Pele_ (verse 11), is the
           phosphorescence which Pele’s footfall stirs to activity in
           the ocean.

           The formal ending of this mele, _Elieli, kau mai_, is often
           found at the close of a mele in the hula Pele, and marks it
           as to all intents and purposes a prayer.

           _E waiho aku ana o Ahu_ (verse 4). This is an instance of
           the separation of the article _o_ from the substantive _Ahu_,
           to which it becomes joined to form the proper name of the
           island now called Oahu.


                Ke amo la ke ko’i ke akua la i-uka;
                Haki nu’a-nu’a mai ka nalu mai Kahiki,
                Po-po’i aku la i ke alo o Kilauea.[335]
                Kanaka hea i ka lakou puaa kanu;
            5   He wahine kui lei lehua i uka o Olaa,
                Ku’u moku lehua i ke alo o He-eia.
                O Kuku-ena[336] wahine,
                Komo i ka lau-ki,
[Page 191]      A’e-a’e a noho.
           10   Eia makou, kou lau kaula la.
                Eli-eli, kau mai!

           [Footnote 335: The figure in the second and third verses, of
           waves from Kahiki (_nalu mai Kahiki_) beating against the
           front of Kilauea (_Po-po’i aku la i ke alo o Kilauea_), seems
           to picture the trampling of the multitude splashing the mire
           as if it were, waves of ocean.]

           [Footnote 336: _Kukuena_. There is some uncertainty as to who
           this character was; probably the same as Haumea, the mother
           of Pele.]



                They bear the god’s ax up the mountain;
                Trampling the mire, like waves from Kahiki
                That beat on the front of Kilauea.
                The people with offerings lift up a prayer;
            5   A woman strings wreaths in Olaa—
                Lehua grove mine bord’ring He-eia.
                And now Kukuena, mother god,
                Covers her loins with a pa-ú of ti leaf;
                She mounts the altar; she sits.
           10   Behold us, your conclave of priests.
                Enter in, possess us!

           This has the marks of a Hawaiian prayer, and as such it is
           said to have been used in old times by canoe-builders when
           going up into the mountains in search of timber. Or it may
           have been recited by the priests and people who went up to
           fell the lehua tree from which to carve the Makahiki[337] idol;
           or, again, may it possibly have been recited by the company
           of hula folk who climbed the mountain in search of a tree to
           be set up in the halau as a representation of the god whom
           they wished to honor? This is a question the author can not
           settle. That it was used by hula folk is indisputable, but
           that would not preclude its use for other purposes.


                    Ku i Wailua ka pou hale[338]
                    Ka ipu hoolono i ka uwalo,
                    Ka wawa nui, e Ulupo.
                    Aole uwalo mai, e.
                5   Aloha nui o Ikuwa, Mahoena.
                    Ke lele la ka makawao o ka hinalo.
                    Aia i Maná ka oka’i o ka ua o Eleao;
                    Ke holu la ka a’ahu o Ka-ú [339] i ka makani;
                    Ke puhi a’e la ka ale kumupali o Ka-ú, Honuapo;
               10   Ke hakoko ka niu o Paiaha’a i ka makani.
                    Uki-uki oukou:
                    Ke lele la ke kai;
                    Lele iao,[340] lele!
                    O ka makani Koolau-wahine,
[Page 192]     15   O ka Moa’e-ku.
                    Lele ua, lele kawa! [341]
                    Lele aku, lele mai!
                    Lele o-ó,[342] o-ó lele; [343]
                    Lele opuhi,[344] lele;
               20   Lele o Kauná,[345] kaha oe.
                    E Hiiaka e, ku!

           [Footnote 337: For an account of the Makahiki idol see Hawaiian
           Antiquities, p. 189, by David Malo; translated by N.B.
           Emerson, A.M., M.D., Honolulu, Hawaiian Gazette Company
           (Limited), 1903.]

           [Footnote 338: _Pou hele_. The main post of a house, which is
           here intended, was the _pou-haná_; it was regarded with a
           superstitious reverence.]

           [Footnote 339: _A’hu o Ka-u_. A reference, doubtless, to the
           long grass that once covered Ka-ú.]

           [Footnote 340: _I-áo_. A small fish that took short flights in
           the air.]

           [Footnote 341: _Lele kawa_. To jump in sport from a height into
           the water.]

           [Footnote 342: _Lele o-ó_. To leap feet first into the water.]

           [Footnote 343: _O-ó lele_. To dive head first into the water.]

           [Footnote 344: _Lele opuhi_. The same as _pahi’a_, to leap
           obliquely into the water from a height, bending oneself so
           that the feet come first to the surface.]

           [Footnote 345: _Kauná_. A woman of Ka-ú celebrated for her
           skill in the hula, also the name of a cape that reaches out
           into the stormy ocean.]



                    At Wailua stands the main house-post;
                    This oracle harks to wild voices,
                    Tumult and clamor, O Ulu-po;
                    It utters no voice to entreaty.
                5   Alas for the prophet that’s dumb!
                    But there drifts the incense of hala.
                    Maná sees the rain-whirl of Eleao.
                    The robe of Ka-ú sways in the wind,
                    That dashes the waves ’gainst the sea-wall,
               10   At Honu-apo, windy Ka-ú;
                    The Pai-ha’a palms strive with the gale.
                    Such weather is grievous to you:
                    The sea-scud is flying.
                    My little i-ao, O fly
               15   With the breeze Koolau!
                    Fly with the Moa’e-ku!
                    Look at the rain-mist fly!
                    Leap with the cataract, leap!
                    Plunge, now here, now there!
               20   Feet foremost, head foremost;
                    Leap with a glance and a glide!
                    Kauná, opens the dance; you win.
                    Rise, Hiiaka, arise!

           The meaning of this mele centers about a phenomenon that is
           said to have been observed at Ka-ipu-ha’a, near Wailua, on
           Kauai. To one standing on a knoll near the two cliffs Ikuwa
           and Mahoena (verse 5) there came, it is said, an echo from
           the murmur and clamor of the ocean and the moan of the wind,
           a confused mingling of nature’s voices. The listener,
           however, got no echoing answer to his own call.

           The mele does not stick to the unities as we understand them.
           The poets of old Hawaii felt at liberty to run to the ends of
           their earth; and the auditor must allow his imagination to be
           transported suddenly from one island to another; in this
[Page 193] case, first from Wailua to Maná on the same island, where he
           is shown the procession of whirling rain clouds of Eleao
           (verse 7). Thence the poet carries him to Honuapo, Hawaii,
           and shows him the waves dashing against the ocean-walls and
           the clashing of the palm-fronds of Paiaha’a in the wind.

           The scene shifts back to Kauai, and one stands with the poet
           looking down on a piece of ocean where the people are wont to
           disport themselves. (Maka-iwa, not far from Ka-ipu-ha’a, is
           said to be such a place.) Verses 12 to 19 in the Hawaiian (13
           to 21 in the translation) describe the spirited scene.

           It is somewhat difficult to determine whether the Kauná
           mentioned in the next poem is the name of the woman or of the
           stormy cape. In the mind of a Hawaiian poet the inanimate and
           the animate are often tied so closely together in thought and
           in speech as to make it hard to decide which is intended.


                    Ike ia Kauná-wahine, Makani Ka-ú,
                    He umauma i pa ia e ka Moa’e,
                    E ka makani o-maka o Unulau.
                    Lau ka wahine kaili-pua o Paía,
                5   Alualu puhala o ka Milo-pae-kanáka, e-e-e-e!
                    He kanáka ke koa no ka ehu ahiahi,
                    O ia nei ko ka ehu kakahiaka—
                    O maua no, me ka makua o makou.
                    Ua ike ’a!



                    Behold Kauná, that sprite of windy Ka-ú,
                    Whose bosom is slapped by the Moa’e-kú,
                    And that eye-smiting wind Unulaú—
                    Women by hundreds filch the bloom
                5   Of Paía, hunt fruit of the hala, a-ha!
                    That one was the gallant, at evening,
                    This one the hero of love, in the morning—
                    ’Twas our guardian I had for companion.
                    Now you see it, a-ha!

           This mele, based on a story of amorous rivalry, relates to a
           contest which arose between two young women of rank regarding
           the favors of that famous warrior and general of Kamehameha,
           Kalaimoku, whom the successful intrigante described as _ka
           makua o makou_ (verse 8), our father, i.e., our guardian. The
           point of view is that of the victorious intrigante, and in
           speaking of her defeated rival she uses the ironical language
           of the sixth verse, _He kanáka ke koa no ka ehu ahiahi_
           meaning that her opponent’s chance of success faded with the
           evening twilight, whereas her own success was crowned with
[Page 194] the glow of morning, _O ia neí ko ka ehu kakahiaka_ (verse
           7). The epithet _kanáka_ hints ironically that her rival is
           of lower rank than herself, though in reality the rank of her
           rival may have been superior to her own.

           The language, as pointed out by the author’s informant, is
           marked with an elegance that stamps it as the product of a
           courtly circle.


                E oe mauna i ka ohu,
                Kahá, ka leo o ka ohi’a;
                Auwe! make au i ke ahi a mau
                A ka luahine[346] moe naná,
            5   A papa enaena, wai hau,
                A wa’a kau-hí.[347]
                Haila pepe[348] mua me pepe waena,
                O pepe ka muimui:
                O kiele[348] i na ulu[348]
           10   Ka makahá kai kea
                O Niheu[349] kolohe;
                Ka makaha kai kea!
                Eli-eli, kau mai.



                Ho! mountain of vapor-puffs,
                Now groans the mountain-apple tree.
                Alas! I burn in this deathless flame,
                That is fed by the woman who snores
            5   On a lava plate, now hot, now cold;
                Now ’tis a canoe full-rigged for sea;
                There are seats at the bow, amidships, abaft;
                Baggage and men—all is aboard.

                And now the powerful thrust of the paddle,
[Page 195] 10   Making mighty swirl of wat’ry yeast,
                As of Nihéu, the mischief-maker—
                A mighty swirl of the yeasty wave.
                In heaven’s name, come aboard!

           [Footnote 346: Pele is often spoken of as _ka luahine_, the old
           woman; but she frequently used her power of transformation to
           appear as a young woman of alluring beauty.]

           [Footnote 347: Lava poured out in plates and folds and coils
           resembles many diverse things, among others the canoe, _wa’a_
           here characterized as complete in its appointments and ready
           for launching, _kauhí_. The words are subtly intended, no
           doubt, to convey the thought of Pele’s readiness to launch on
           the voyage of matrimony.]

           [Footnote 348: _Pepe_, a seat; _kiele_, to paddle; and _ulu_, a
           shortened form of the old word _oulu_, meaning a paddle, are
           archaisms now obsolete.]

           [Footnote 349: Nihéu. One of the mythological heroes of an
           old-time adventure, in which his elder brother Kana, who had
           the form of a long rope, played the principal part. This one
           enterprise of their life in which they joined forces was for
           the rescue of their mother, Hina, who had been kidnaped by a
           marauding chief and carried from her home in Hilo to the bold
           headland of Haupu, Molokai. Nihéu is generally stigmatized as
           _kolohe_ (verse 11), mischievous, for no other reason
           apparently than that he was an active spirit, full of
           courage, given to adventure and heaven-defying audacities,
           such as put the Polynesian Mawi and the Greek Prometheus in
           bad odor with the gods of their times. One of these offensive
           actions was Nihéu’s theft of a certain _ulu_, breadfruit,
           which one of the gods rolled with a noise like that of
           thunder in the underground caverns of the southern regions of
           the world. Nihéu is represented as a great sport, an athlete,
           skilled in all the games of his people. The worst that could
           be said of him was that he had small regard for other
           people’s rights and that he was slow to pay his debts of


           After the death of Lohiau, his best friend, Paoa, came before
           Pele determined to invite death by pouring out the vials of
           his wrath on the head of the goddess. The sisters of Pele
           sought to avert the impending tragedy and persuaded him to
           soften his language and to forego mere abuse. Paoa, a
           consummate actor, by his dancing, which has been perpetuated
           in the hula Pele, and by his skillfully-worded prayer-songs,
           one of which is given above, not only appeased Pele, but won

           The piece next appearing is also a song that was a prayer,
           and seems to have been uttered by the same mouth that
           groaned forth the one given above.

           It does not seem necessary to take the language of the mele
           literally. The sufferings that the person in the mele
           describes in the first person, it seems to the author, may be
           those of his friend Lohiau; and the first person is used for
           literary effect.


                    Aole e mao ka ohu:
                    Auwe! make au i ke ahi a mau
                    A ka wahine moe naná,
                    A papa ena-ena,
                5   A wa’a kau-hí.
                    Ilaila pepe mua me pepe waena,
                    O pepe ka mu’imu’i,
                    O lei’na kiele,
                    Kau-meli-eli: [351]
               10   Ka maka kakahi kea
                    O Niheu kolohe—
                    Ka maka kaha-kai kea.
                    Eli-eli, kau mai!



                Alas, there’s no stay to the smoke;
                I must die mid the quenchless flame—
                Deed of the hag who snores in her sleep,
                Bedded on lava plate oven-hot.
            5   Now it takes the shape of canoe;
[Page 196]      Seats at the bow and amidships,
                And the steersman sitting astern;
                Their stroke stirs the ocean to foam—
                The myth-craft, Kau-meli-eli!
           10   Now look, the white gleam of an eye—
                It is Nihéu, the turbulent one—
                An eye like the white sandy shore.
                Amen, possess me!

           [Footnote 350: The remarks on pp. 194 and 195 regarding the
           mele on p. 194 are mostly applicable to this mele.]

           [Footnote 351: _Kau-meli-eli_. The name of the double canoe
           which brought a company of the gods from the lands of the
           South—Kukulu o Kahiki—to Hawaii. Hawaiian myths refer to
           several migrations of the gods to Hawaii; one of them is that
           described in the mele given on p. 187, the first mele in this

           The mele now to be given has the form of a serenade.
           Etiquette forbade anyone to wake the king by rude touch, but
           it was permissible for a near relative to touch his feet.
           When the exigencies of business made it necessary for a
           messenger, a herald, or a courtier to disturb the sleeping
           monarch, he took his station at the king’s feet and recited a
           serenade such as this:

              _Mele Hoala _(no ka Hula Pele)

                E ala, e Kahiki-ku;[352]
                E ala, e Kahiki-moe; [352]
                E ala, e ke apapa nu’u;[353]
                E ala, e ke apapa lani.[353]
            5   Eia ka hoala nou, e ka lani[354] la, e-e!
                E ala oe!

                E ala, ua ao, ua malamalama.
                Aia o Kape’a ma,[355] la, i-luna;
                Ua hiki mai ka maka o Unulau; [356]
[Page 197] 10   Ke hóolalé mai la ke kupa holowa’a o Ukumehame,[357]
                Ka lae makani kaohi-wa’a o Papawai,[358]
                Ka lae makani o’Anahenahe la, e-e!
                E ala oe!

                E ala, ua ao, ua malamalama;
           15   Ke o a’e la ke kukuna o ka La i lea ili o ke kai;
                Ke hahai a’e la, e like me Kumukahi [359]
                E hoaikane ana me Makanoni;
                Ka papa o Apua, ua lohi i ka La.
                E ala oe!

           20   E ala, ua ao, ua malamalama;
                Ke kau aku la ka La i Kawaihoa:
                Ke kolii aku la ka La i ka ili o ke kai;
                Ke anai mai la ka iwa auai-maka o Lei-no-ai,
                I ka lima o Maka-iki-olea,
           25   I ka poli wale o Lehua la.
                E ala oe!

           [Footnote 352: Hawaiians conceived of the dome of heaven as a
           solid structure supported by walls that rested on the earth’s
           plain. Different names were given to different sections of
           the wall. _Kahiki-ku_ and _Kahiki-moe_ were names applied to
           certain of these sections. It would, however, be too much, to
           expect any Hawaiian, however intelligent and well versed in
           old lore, to indicate the location of these regions.]

           [Footnote 353: The words _apapa nu’u_ and _apapa lani_, which
           convey to the mind of the author the picture of a series of
           terraced plains or steppes—no doubt the original
           meaning—here mean a family or order of gods, not of the
           highest rank, at or near the head of which stood Pele.
           Apropos of this subject the following lines have been quoted:

                Hanau ke apapa nu’u:
                Hanau ke apapa lani;
                Hanau Pele, ka hihi’o na lani.


                Begotten were the gods of graded rank;
                Begotten were the gods of heavenly rank;
                Begotten was Pele, quintessence of heaven.

           This same expression was sometimes used to mean an order of
           chiefs, _alii. Apapa lani_ was also used to mean the highest
           order of gods, _Ku, Kane, Kanaloa, Lono_. The kings also were
           gods, for which reason this expression at times applied to
           the alii of highest rank, those, for instance, who inherited
           the rank of _niau-pi’o_ or of _wohi._]

           [Footnote 354: _Lani_. Originally the heavens, came to mean
           king, chief, _alii_.]

           [Footnote 355: There is a difference of opinion as to the
           meaning of _Kape’a ma_. After hearing diverse opinions the
           author concludes that it refers to the rays of the sun that
           precede its rising—a Greek idea.]

           [Footnote 356: _Unulau_. A name for the trade-wind which, owing
           to the conformation of the land, often sweeps down with great
           force through the deep valleys that seam the mountains of
           west Maui between Lahaina and Maalaea bay; such a wind squall
           was called a _mumuku_.]

           [Footnote 357: _Ukumehame_. The name of a deep valley on west
           Maui in the region above described.]

           [Footnote 358: _Papawai_. The principal cape on west Maui
           between Lahaina and Maalaea bay.]

           [Footnote 359: _Kumu-kahi_. A cape in Puna, the easternmost
           part of Hawaii; by some said to be the sun’s wife, and the
           object of his eager pursuit after coming out of his eastern
           gate Ha’eha’e. The name was also applied to a pillar of stone
           that was planted on the northern border of this cape.
           Standing opposite to it, on the southern side, was the
           monolith Makanoni. In summer the sun in its northern
           excursion inclined, as the Hawaiians noted, to the side of
           Kumukahi, while in the season of cool weather, called
           Makalii, it swung in the opposite direction and passed over
           to Makanoni. The people of Puna accordingly said, “The sun
           has passed over to Makanoni,” or “The sun has passed over to
           Kumukahi,” as the case might be. These two pillars are said
           to be of such a form as to suggest the thought that they are
           phallic emblems, and this conjecture is strengthened by
           consideration of the tabus connected with them and of the
           religious ceremonies peformed before them. The Hawaiians
           speak of them as _pohaku eho_, which, the author believes,
           is the name given to a phallus, and describe them as plain
           uncarved pillars.

           These stones were set up in very ancient times and are said
           to have been tabu to women at the times of their infirmity.
           If a woman climbed upon them at such a period or even set
           foot upon the platform on which one of them stood she was put
           to death. Another stringent tabu forbade anyone to perform an
           office of nature while his face was turned toward one of
           these pillars.

           The language of the mele, _Ke hahai ae la e like me Kumukahi_
           (verse 16), implies that the sun chased after Kumukahi.
           Apropos of this is the following quotation from an article on
           the phallus in Chambers’s Encyclopedia: “The common myth
           concerning it [the phallus] was the story of some god
           deprived of his power of generation—an allusion to the sun,
           which in autumn loses its fructifying influence.”

           In modern times there seems to have grown up a curious
           mixture of traditions about these two stones, in which the
           old have become overlaid with new superstitions; and these
           last in turn seem to be dying out. They are now vaguely
           remembered as relics of old demigods, petrified forms of
           ancient _kupua_.[360] Fishermen, it is said, not long ago
           offered sacrifices to them, hoping thus to purchase good
           luck. Any offense against them, such as that by women, above
           mentioned, or by men, was atoned for by offering before these
           ancient monuments the first fish that came to the fisherman’s
           hook or net.

           Mention of the name Kumu-kahi to a Hawaiian versed in ancient
           lore called up to his memory the name of Pala-moa as his
           associate. The account this old man gave of them was that
           they were demigods much worshiped and feared for their power
           and malignity. They were reputed to be cannibals on the sly,
           and, though generally appearing in human form, were capable
           of various metamorphoses, thus eluding detection. They were
           believed to have the power of taking possession of men
           through spiritual obsession, as a result of which the
           obsessed ones were enabled to heal sickness as well as to
           cause it, to reveal secrets, and to inflict death, thus
           terrifying people beyond measure. The names of these, two
           demigods, especially that of Palamoa, are to this day
           appealed to by practitioners of the black arts.]

           [Footnote 360: The Hawaiian alphabet had no letter _s_. The
           Hawaiians indicated the plural by prefixing the particle

[Page 198]



                    Awake now, Kahiki-ku;
                    Awake now, Kahiki-moe;
                    Awake, ye gods of lower grade;
                    Awake, ye gods of heavenly rank.
                5   A serenade to thee, O king.
                    Awake thee!

                    Awake, it is day, it is light;
                    The Day-god his arrows is shooting,
                    Unulau his eye far-flashing,
               10   Canoe-men from Uku-me-hame
                    Are astir to weather the windy cape,
                    The boat-baffling cape, Papa-wai,
                    And the boisterous A-nahe-nahe.
                    Awake thee!

               15   Awake, day is come and the light;
                    The sun-rays stab the skin of the deep;
                    It pursues, as did god Kumu-kahi
                    To companion with god Maka-noni;
                    The plain of Apua quivers with heat.
               20   Awake thee!

                    Awake, ’tis day, ’tis light;
                    The sun stands over Waihoa,
                    Afloat on the breast of ocean;
                    The iwa of Leinoai is preening
               25   On the cliff Maka-iki-olea.
                    On the breast of naked Lehua.
                    Awake thee! awake!

           The following is a prayer said to have been used at the time
           of awa-drinking. When given in the hula, the author is
           informed, its recitation was accompanied by the sound of the

                       _He Pule no Pele_

                            PALE I

                    O Pele la ko’u akua:
                    Miha ka lani, miha ka honua.
                    Awa iku, awa lani;
                    Kai awaawa, ka awa nui a Hiiaka,
               5    I kua i Mauli-ola;[361]
                    He awa kapu no na wahine.
                    E kapu!

                    Ka’i kapu kou awa, e Pele a Honua-mea;
                    E kala, e Haumea wahine,
               10   O ka wahine i Kilauea,
                    Nana i eli a hohonu ka lua
                    O Mau-wahine, o Kupu-ena,
                    O na wahine i ka inu-hana awa.
                    E ola na ’kua malihini![362]

                             PALE II

               15   I kama’a-ma’a la i ka pua-lei;
                    E loa ka wai apua,
                    Ka pii’na i Ku-ka-la-ula;[363]
                    Hoopuka aku i Puu-lena,
                    Aina a ke Akua i noho ai.

[Page 199]     20   Kanaenae a ke Akua malihini;[362]
                    O ka’u wale iho la no ia, o ka leo,
                    He leo wale no, e-e!
                    E ho-i!
                    Eia ka ai!

           [Footnote 361: _Mauli-ola_. A god of health; perhaps also the
           name of a place. The same word also was applied to the breath
           of life, or to the physician’s power of healing. In the Maori
           tongue the word _mauri_, corresponding to _mauli_, means
           life, the seat of life. In Samoan the word _mauli_ means
           heart. “Sneeze, living heart” (_Tihe mauri ora_), says the
           Maori mother to her infant when it sneezes. For this bit of
           Maori lore acknowledgment is due to Mr. S. Percy Smith, of
           New Zealand.]

           [Footnote 362: According to one authority, at the close of the
           first canto the stranger gods—_akua malihini_—who consisted
           of that multitude of godlings called the _Kini Akua_, took
           their departure from the ceremony, since they did not belong
           to the Pele family. Internal evidence, however, the study of
           the prayer itself in its two parts, leads the writer to
           disagree with this authority. Other Hawaiians of equally
           deliberate judgment support him in this opinion. The
           etiquette connected with ceremonious awa-drinking, which the
           Samoans of to-day still maintain in full form, long ago died
           out in Hawaii. This etiquette may never have been cultivated
           here to the same degree as in its home, Samoa; but this poem
           is evidence that the ancient Hawaiians paid greater attention
           to it than they of modern times. The reason for this decline
           of ceremony must be sought for in the mental and esthetic
           make-up of the Hawaiian people; it was not due to any lack of
           fondness in the Hawaiian for awa as a beverage or as an
           intoxicant. It is no help to beg the question by ascribing
           the decline of this etiquette to the influence of social
           custom. To do so would but add one more link to the chain
           that binds cause to effect. The Hawaiian mind was not
           favorable to the observance of this sort of etiquette; it did
           not afford a soil fitted to nourish such an artificial

           [Footnote 363: The meaning of the word _Ku-ka-la-ula_ presented
           great difficulty and defied all attempts at translation until
           the suggestion was made by a bright Hawaiian, which was
           adopted with satisfaction, that it probably referred to that
           state of dreamy mental exaltation which comes with
           awa-intoxication. This condition, like that of frenzy, of
           madness, and of idiocy, the Hawaiian regarded as a divine


                            _A Prayer to Pele_

                                  CANTO I

                    Lo, Pele’s the god of my choice:
                    Let heaven and earth in silence wait
                    Here is awa, potent, sacred,
                    Bitter sea, great Hiiaka’s root;
                5   ’Twas cut at Mauli-ola—
                    Awa to the women forbidden,
                    Let it tabu be!
                    Exact be the rite of your awa,
                    O Pele of the sacred land.

[Page 200]     10   Proclaim it, mother. Haumea,
                    Of the goddess of Kilauea;
                    She who dug the pit world-deep,
                    And Mau-wahine and Kupu-ena,
                    Who prepare the awa for drink.
               15   A health to the stranger gods!

                                  CANTO II

                    Bedeck now the board for the feast;
                    Fill up the last bowl to the brim;
                    Then pour a draught in the sun-cave
                    Shall flow to the mellow haze,
               20   That tints the land of the gods.

                    All hail to the stranger gods!
                    This my offering, simply a voice,
                    Only a welcoming voice.
                    Turn in!
               25   Lo, the feast!

           This prayer, though presented in two parts or cantos, is
           really one, its purpose being to offer a welcome, _kanaenae_,
           to the feast and ceremony to the gods who had a right to
           expect that courtesy.

           One more mele of the number specially used in the hula Pele:


                    Nou paha e, ka inoa
                    E ka’i-ka’i ku ana,
                    A kau i ka nuku.
                    E hapa-hapai a’e;
                5   A pa i ke kihi
                    O Ki-lau-é-a.
                    Ilaila ku’u kama,
                    O Ku-nui-akea.[364]
                    Hookomo a’e iloko
               10   A o Hale-ma’u-ma’u;[365]
                    A ma-ú na pu’u
                    E óla-olá, nei.
                    E kulipe’e nui ai-ahua.[366]
                    E Pele, e Pele!
               15   E Pele, e Pele!
                    Huai’na! huai’na!
                    Ku ia ka lani,
                    Pae a huila!

           [Footnote 364: Kalakaua, for whom all these fine words are
           intended, could no more claim kinship with Ku-nui-akea, the
           son of Kau-i-ke-aouli, than with Julius Cæsar.]

           [Footnote 365: _Hale-mau-mau_. Used figuratively of the mouth,
           whose hairy fringe—moustache and beard—gives it a fancied
           resemblance to the rough lava pit where Pele dwelt. The
           figure, to us no doubt obscure, conveyed to the Hawaiian the
           idea of trumpeting the name and making it famous.]

           [Footnote 366: _E kuli-pe’e nui ai-ahua_. Pele is here figured
           as an old, infirm woman, crouching and crawling along; a
           character and attitude ascribed to her, no doubt, from the
           fancied resemblance of a lava flow, which, when in the form
           of _a-á_, rolls and tumbles along over the surface of the
           ground in a manner suggestive of the motions and attitude of
           a palsied crone.]
[Page 201]



                Yours, doubtless, this name.
                Which people are toasting
                With loudest acclaim.
                Now raise it, aye raise it,
            5   Till it reaches the niches
                Of Kí-lau-é-a.
                Enshrined is there my kinsman,
                Then give it a place
           10   In the temple of Pele;
                And a bowl for the throats
                That are croaking with thirst.
                Knock-kneed eater of land,
                O Pele, god Pele!
           15   O Pele, god Pele!
                Burst forth now! burst forth!
                Launch a bolt from the sky!
                Let thy lightnings fly:

           When this poem[367] first came into the author’s hands, though
           attracted by its classic form and vigorous style, he could
           not avoid being repelled by an evident grossness. An old
           Hawaiian, to whom he stated his objections, assured him that
           the mele was innocent of all bad intent, and when the
           offensive word was pointed out he protested that it was an
           interloper. The substitution of the right word showed that
           the man was correct. The offense was at once removed. This
           set the whole poem in a new light and it is presented with
           satisfaction. The mele is properly a name-song, _mele-inoa_.
           The poet represents some one as lifting a name to his mouth
           for praise and adulation. He tells him to take it to
           Kilauea—that it may reecho, doubtless, from the walls of the

           [Footnote 367: It is said to be the work of a hula-master, now
           some years dead, by the name of Namakeelua.]
[Page 202]

                          XXV.—THE HULA PA’I-UMAUMA

           The hula _pa’i-umauma_—chest-beating hula—called also hula
           _Pa-láni_,[368] was an energetic dance, in which the actors,
           who were also the singers, maintained a kneeling position,
           with the buttocks at times resting on the heels. In spite
           of the restrictions imposed by this attitude, they managed
           to put a spirited action into the performance; there were
           vigorous gestures, a frequent smiting of the chest with the
           open hand, and a strenuous movement of the pelvis and lower
           part of the body called _ami_. This consisted of rhythmic
           motions, sidewise, backward, forward, and in a circular or
           elliptical orbit, all of which was done with the precision
           worthy of an acrobat, an accomplishment attained only after
           long practice. It was a hula of classic celebrity, and was
           performed without the accompaniment of instrumental music.

           [Footnote 368: _Paláni_, French, so called at Moanalua because
           a woman who was its chief exponent was a Catholic, one of the
           “poe Paláni.” Much odium has been laid to the charge of the
           hula on account of the supposed indecency of the motion
           termed _ami_. There can be no doubt that the ami was at times
           used to represent actions unfit for public view, and so far
           the blame is just. But the ami did not necessarily nor always
           represent obscenity, and to this extent the hula has been
           unjustly maligned.]

           In the mele now to be given the poet calls up a succession of
           pictures by imagining himself in one scenic position after
           another, beginning at Hilo and passing in order from one
           island to another—omitting, however, Maui—until he finds
           himself at Kilauea, an historic and traditionally interesting
           place on the windward coast of the garden-island, Kauai. The
           order of travel followed by the poet forbids the supposition
           that the Kilauea mentioned is the great caldera of the
           volcano on Hawaii in which Pele had her seat.

           It is useless to regret that the poet did not permit his muse
           to tarry by the way long enough to give us something more
           than a single eyeshot at the quickly shifting scenes which
           unrolled themselves before him, that so he might have given
           us further reminiscence of the lands over which his Pegasus
           bore him. Such completeness of view, however, is alien to the
           poesy of Hawaii.
[Page 203]


                A Hilo au e, hoolulu ka lehua[369];
                A Wai-luku la, i ka Lua-kanáka[370];
                A Lele-iwi[371] la, au i ke kai;
                A Pana-ewa[372], i ka ulu-lehua;
            5    A Ha-ili[373], i ke kula-manu;
                A Mologai, i ke ala-kahi,
                Ke kula o Kala’e[374] wela i ka la;
                Mauna-loa[375] la, Ka-lua-ko’i[376], e;
                Na hala o Nihoa[377], he mapuna la;
           10   A Ko’i-ahi[378] au, ka maile lau-lu la;
                A Makua[379] la, i ke one opio-pio[380],
                E holu ana ke kai o-lalo;
                He wahine a-po’i-po’i[381] e noho ana,
                A Kilauea[382], i ke awa ula.



                At Hilo I rendezvoused with the lehua;
                By the Wailuku stream, near the robber-den;
                Off cape Lele-iwi I swam in the ocean;
                At Pana-ewa, mid groves of lehua;
            5   At Ha-ili, a forest of flocking birds.
                On Molokai I travel its one highway;
                I saw the plain of Kala’e quiver with heat,
                And beheld the ax-quarries of Mauna-loa.
                Ah, the perfume Nihoa’s pandanus exhales!
           10   Ko’i-ahi, home of the small-leafed maile;
                And now at Makua, lo, its virgin sand,
                While ocean surges and scours on below.
                Lo, a woman crouched on the shore by the sea,
                In the brick-red bowl, Kilauea’s bay.

           [Footnote 369: _Lehúa._ A tree that produces the tufted scarlet
           flower that is sacred to the goddess of the hula, Laka.]

           [Footnote 370: _Lua-kanáka._ A deep and dangerous crossing at
           the Wailuku river, which is said to have been the cause of
           death by drowning of very many. Another story is that it was
           once the hiding place of robbers.]

           [Footnote 371: _Lele-iwi._ The name of a cape at Hilo, near the
           mouth of the Wai-luku river;—water of destruction.]

           [Footnote 372: _Pana-ewa._ A forest region in Ola’a much
           mentioned in myth and poetry.]

           [Footnote 373: _Haili._ A region in Ola’a, a famous resort for

           [Footnote 374: _Ka-la’e._ A beautiful place in the uplands back
           of Kaunakakai, on Molokai.]

           [Footnote 375: _Mauna-loa._ The mountain in the western part of

           [Footnote 376: _Ka-lua-ko’i._ A place on this same Mauna-loa
           where was quarried stone suitable for making the Hawaiian

           [Footnote 377: _Nihoa._ A small land near Kalaupapa, Molokai,
           where was a grove of fine pandanus trees.]

           [Footnote 378: _Ko’i-ahi._ A small valley in the district of
           Waianae, Oahu, where was the home of the small-leafed maile.]

           [Footnote 379: _Makua._ A valley in Waianae.]

           [Footnote 380: _One opio-pio._ Sand freshly smoothed by an
           ocean wave.]

           [Footnote 381: _Apo’i-po’i._ To crouch for the purpose,
           perhaps, of screening oneself from view, as one, for
           instance, who is naked and desires to escape observation.]

           [Footnote 382: _Kilauea._ There is some doubt whether this is
           the Kilauea on Kauai or a little place of the same name near
           cape Kaena, the westernmost point of Oahu.]
[Page 204]
           In the next mele to be given it is evident that, though the
           motive is clearly Hawaiian, it has lost something of the
           rugged simplicity and impersonality that belonged to the most
           archaic style, and that it has taken on the sentimentality of
           a later period.


                    E Manono la, e-a,
                    E Manono la, e-a,
                    Kau ka ópe-ópe;
                    Ka ulu hala la, e-a,
                5   Ka uluhe la, e-a.
                    Ka uluhe la, e-a,
                    A hiki Pu’u-naná,
                    Hali’i punána
                    No huli mai.

               10   Huli mai o-e la;
                    Moe kaua;
                    Hali’i punana
                    No huli mai.
                    Huli mai o-e la;
               15   Moe kaua;
                    Moe aku kaua;
                    O ka wai welawela,
                    O ka papa lohi
                    O Mau-kele;

               20   Moe aku kaua;
                    O ka wai welawela,
                    O ka papa lohi
                    O Mau-kele.
                    A kele, a kele
               25   Kou manao la, e-a;
                    A kele, a kele
                    Kou manao la, e-a.



                    Come now, Manono,
                    Come, Manono, I say;
                    Take up the burden;
                    Through groves of pandanus
                5   And wild stag-horn fern,
                    Wearisome fern, lies our way.
                    Arrived at the hill-top,
                    We’ll smooth out the nest,
                    That we may snug close.

               10   Turn now to me, dear,
                    While we rest here.
                    Make we a little nest,
                    That we may draw near.
                    This way your face, dear,
[Page 205]     15   While, we rest here.
                    Rest thou and I here,
                    Near the warm, warm water
                    And the smooth lava-plate
                    Of Mau-kele.

               20   Rest thou and I here.
                    By the water so warm,
                    And the lava-plate smooth
                    Of Mau-kele.
                    Little by little
               25   Your thoughts will be mine.
                    Little by little
                    Your thoughts I’ll divine.

           Manono was the name of the brave woman, wife of
           Ke-kua-o-kalani, who fell in the battle of Kuamo’o, in Kona,
           Hawaii, in 1819, fighting by the side of her husband. They
           died in support of the cause of law and order, of religion
           and tabu, the cause of the conservative party in Hawaii, as
           opposed to license and the abolition of all restraint.

           The _uluhe_ (verses 5, 6) is the stag-horn fern, which forms
           a matted growth most obstructive to woodland travel.

           The burden Manono is asked to bear, what else is it but the
           burden of life, in this case lightened by love?

           Whether there is any connection between the name of the
           hula—breast-beating—and the expression, in the first verse
           of the following mele is more than the author can say.


                    Ka-hipa[383], na waiu olewa,
                    Lele ana, ku ka mahiki akea;
                    Keké ka niho o Laui-wahine[384];
                    Opi ke a lalo, ke a luna.
                5   A hoi aku au i Lihue,
                    Kana aku ia Ewa;
                    E au ana o Miko-lo-lóu,[385]
[Page 206]          A pahú ka naau no Pa-pi’-o[386].
                    A pa’a ka mano.
               10   Hopu i ka lima.
                    Ai pakahi, e, i ka nahele,[387]
                    Alawa a’e na ulu kani o Leiwalo.
                    E noho ana Kolea-kani[388]
                    Ka pii’na i ka Uwa-lua;
               15   Oha-ohá, lei i ka makani.

           [Footnote 383: _Ka-hipa_. Said to be the name of a mythological
           character, now applied to a place in Kahuku where the
           mountains present the form of two female breasts.]

           [Footnote 384: _Lani-wahine_. A benignant _mo’o_, or
           water-nymph, sometimes taking the form of a woman, that is
           said to have haunted the lagoon of Uko’a, Waialua, Oahu.
           There is a long story about her.]

           [Footnote 385: _Miko-lo-lóu_. A famous man-eating shark-god
           whose home was in the waters of Hana, Maui. He visited Oahu
           and was hospitably received by Ka-ahu-pahau and Ka-hi’u-ká,
           sharks of the Ewa lagoons, who had a human ancestry and were
           on friendly terms with their kindred. Miko-lo-lóu, when his
           hosts denied him human flesh, helped himself. In the conflict
           that rose the Ewa sharks joined with their human relatives
           and friends on land to put an end to Miko-lo-lóu. After a
           fearful contest they took him and reduced his body to ashes.
           A dog, however, snatched and ate a portion—some say the
           tongue, some the tail—and another part fell into the water.
           This was reanimated by the spirit of the dead shark and grew
           to be a monster of the same size and power as the one
           deceased. Miko-lo-lóu now gathered his friends and allies
           from all the waters and made war against the Ewa sharks, but
           was routed.]

           [Footnote 386: _Pa-pi’-o_. A shark of moderate size, but of
           great activity, that fought against Mlko-lo-lóu. It entered
           his enormous mouth, passed down into his stomach, and there
           played havoc with the monster, eating its way out.]

           [Footnote 387: _Ai pakahi, e, i ka nahele_. The company
           represented by the poet to be journeying pass through an
           uninhabited region barren of food. The poet calls upon them
           to satisfy their hunger by eating of the edible wild
           herbs—they abound everywhere in Hawaii—at the same time
           representing them as casting longing glances on the
           breadfruit trees of Leiwalo. This was a grove in the lower
           levels of Ewa that still survives.]

           [Footnote 388: _Kolea-kani_. A female _kupua_—witch she might
           be called now—that had the form of a plover. She looked
           after the thirsty ones who passed along the road, and
           benevolently showed them where to find water. By her example
           the people of the district are said to have been induced to
           give refreshment to travelers who went that way.]



                ’Tis Kahipa, with pendulous breasts;
                How they swing to and fro, see-saw!
                The teeth of Lani-wahine gape—
                A truce to upper and lower jaw!
            5   From Lihue we look upon Ewa;
                There swam the monster, Miko-lo-lóu,
                His bowels torn out by Pa-pi’-o.
                The shark was caught in grip of the hand.
                Let each one stay himself with wild herbs,
                And for comfort turn his hungry eyes
           10   To the rustling trees of Lei-walo.
                Hark! the whistling-plover—her old-time seat,
                As one climbs the hill from Echo-glen,
                And cools his brow in the breeze.

           The thread of interest that holds together the separate
           pictures composing this mele is slight. It will, perhaps,
           give to the whole a more definite meaning if we recognize
           that it is made up of snapshots at various objects and
           localities that presented themselves to one passing along the
           old road from Kahúku, on Oahu, to the high land which gave
           the tired traveler his first distant view of Honolulu before
           he entered the winding canyon of Moana-lua.
[Page 207]

                           XXVI.—THE HULA KU’I MOLOKAI

           The hula _ku’i Molokai_ was a variety of the Hawaiian dance
           that originated on the island of Molokai, probably at a later
           period than what one would call the classic times. Its
           performance extended to the other islands. The author has
           information of its exhibition on the island of its name as
           late as the last quarter of the nineteenth century. The
           actors, as they might be called, in this hula were arranged
           in pairs who faced each other and went through motions
           similar to those of boxing. This action, _ku’i_, to smite,
           gave the name to the performance. The limiting word Molokai
           was added to distinguish it from another still more modern
           form of dance called _ku’i_, which will be described later.

           While the performers stood and went through with their
           motions, marching and countermarching, as they are said to
           have done, they chanted or recited in recitative some song,
           of which the following is an example. This they did with no
           instrumental accompaniment:


                He ala kai olohia,[389]
                He hiwahiwa na ka la’i luahine,
                He me’ aloha na’u ka makani hauai-loli,[390]
                E uwe ana i ke kai pale iliahi.
            5   Kauwá ke aloha i na lehua o Kaana.[391]
                Pomaikai au i kou aloha e noho nei;
                Ka haluku wale no ia a ka waimaka,
                Me he makamaka puka a la
                Ke aloha i ke kanaka,
           10   E ho-iloli nei i ku’u nui kino.
                Mahea hoi au, a?
                Ma ko oe alo no.

           [Footnote 389: _Kai olohia_. A calm and tranquil sea. This
           expression has gained a poetic vogue that almost makes it
           pass current as a single word, meaning tranquillity, calmness
           of mind. As thus explained, it is here translated by the
           expression “heart’s-ease.”]

           [Footnote 390: _Makani hanai-loli_. A wind so gentle as not to
           prevent the bêche de mer _loli_ sea-anemones, and other
           marine slugs from coming out of their holes to feed. A
           similar figure is used in the next line in the expression
           _kai pale iliahi_. The thought is that the calmness of the
           ocean invites one to strip and plunge in for a bath.]

           [Footnote 391: _Kauwá ke aloha i na lehua o Kaana_. Kaana is
           said to be a hill on the road from Keaau to Olaa, a spot
           where travelers were wont to rest and where they not
           infrequently made up wreaths of the scarlet lehua bloom which
           there abounded. It took a large number of lehua flowers to
           suffice for a wreath, and to bind them securely to the fillet
           that made them a garland was a work demanding not only
           artistic skill hut time and patience. If a weary traveler,
           halting at Kaana, employed his time of rest in plaiting
           flowers into a wreath for some loved one, there would be
           truth as well as poetry in the saying, “Love slaves for the
           lehuas of Kaana.”]
[Page 208]


                Precious the gift of heart’s-ease,
                A wreath for the cheerful dame;
                So dear to my heart is the breeze
                That murmurs, strip for the ocean.
            5   Love slaves for wreaths from Kaana.
                I’m blest in your love that reigns here;
                It speaks in the fall of a tear—
                The choicest thing in one’s life,
                This love for a man by his wife—
           10   It has power to shake the whole frame.
                Ah, where am I now?
                Here, face to your face.

           The platitudes of mere sentimentalism, when put into cold
           print, are not stimulating to the imagination; moods and
           states of feeling often approaching the morbid, their oral
           expression needs the reenforcement of voice, tone,
           countenance, the whole attitude. They are for this reason
           most difficult of translation and when rendered literally
           into a foreign speech often become meaningless. The figures
           employed also, like the watergourds and wine-skins of past
           generations and of other peoples, no longer appeal to us as
           familiar objects, but require an effort of the imagination to
           make them intelligible and vivid to our mental vision. If the
           translator carries these figures of speech over into his new
           rendering, they will often demand an explanation on their own
           account, and will thus fail of their original intent; while
           if he clothes the thought in some new figure he takes the
           risk of failing to do justice to the intimate meaning of the
           original. The force of these remarks will become apparent
           from an analysis of the prominent figures of speech that
           occur in the mele.


                    He inoa no ka Lani,
                    No Náhi-éna-éna;
                    A ka luna o wahine.
                    Ho’i ka ena a ka makani;
                5   Noho ka la’i i ka malino—
                    Makani ua ha-aó;
                    Ko ke au i hala, ea.
                    Punawai o Maná,[392]
                    Wai ola na ke kupa
               10   A ka ilio naná,
                    Hae, nanahu i ke kai;
                    Ehu kai nána ka pua,
                    Ka pua o ka iliau,
[Page 209]          Ka ohai o Mapépe,[393]
               15   Ka moena we’u-we’u,
                    I ulana ia e ke A’e,
                    Ka naku loloa.
                    Hea mai o Kawelo-hea,[394]
                    Nawai la, e, ke kapu?
               20   No Náhi-éna-éna.
                    Ena na pua i ka wai,
                    Wai au o Holei.

           [Footnote 392: _Punawai o Maná_. A spring of water at Honuapo,
           Hawaii, which bubbled up at such a level that the ocean
           covered it at high tide.]

           [Footnote 393: _Ka ohai o Mapépe_. A beautiful flowering
           shrub, also spoken of as _ka ohai o Papi’o-huli_, said to
           have been brought from Kahiki by Namaka-o-kaha’i.]

           [Footnote 394: _Kawelo-hea_. A blowhole or spouting horn, also
           at Honuapo, through which the ocean at certain times sent up
           a column of spray or of water. After the volcanic disturbance
           of 1868 this spouting horn ceased action. The rending force
           of the earthquakes must have broken up and choked the
           subterranean channel through which the ocean had forced its



                A eulogy for the princess,
                For Náhi-éna-éna a name!
                Chief among women!
                She soothes the cold wind with her flame—
            5   A peace that is mirrored in calm,
                A wind that sheddeth rain;
                A tide that flowed long ago;
                The water-spring of Maná,
                Life-spring for the people,
           10   A fount where the lapping dog
                Barks at the incoming wave,
                Drifting spray on the bloom
                Of the sand-sprawling ili-au
                And the scarlet flower of ohai,
           15   On the wind-woven mat of wild grass,
                Long naku, a springy mattress.
                The spout-horn, Kawelo-hea,
                Asks, Who of right has the tabu?
                The princess Náhi-éna-éna!
           20   The flowers glow in the pool,
                The bathing pool of Holei!

           This mele inoa—name-song or eulogy—was composed in
           celebration of the lamented princess, Nahienaena, who, before
           she was misled by evil influences, was a most attractive and
           promising character. She was the daughter of Keopuolani and
           younger sister of Kamehameha III, and came to her untimely
           death in 1836. The name was compounded from the words _na_,
           the, _áhi_, fires, and _énaéna_, hot, a meaning which
           furnishes the motive to the mele.
[Page 210]

                           XXVII.—THE HULA KIELÉI

           The hula _kí-e-léi_, or _kí-le-léi_, was a performance of
           Hawaii’s classic times, and finds mention as such in the
           professedly imperfect list of hulas given by the historian
           David Malo.[395] It was marked by strenuous bodily action,
           gestures with feet and hands, and that vigorous exercise of
           the pelvis and body termed _ami_, the chief feature of which
           was a rotation of the pelvis in circles and ellipses, which
           is not to be regarded as an effort to portray sexual
           attitudes. It was a performance in which the whole company
           stood and chanted the mele without instrumental

           [Footnote 395: Hawaiian Antiquities, by David Malo; translated
           by N.B. Emerson, A.M., M.D. Honolulu, the Hawaiian Gazette
           Company (Limited), 1903.]

           The sacrifice offered at the kuahu in connection with the
           production of this hula consisted of a black pig, a cock of
           the color termed ula-hiwa—black pointed with red—a white
           hen, and awa. According to some authorities the offerings
           deemed appropriate for the sacrifice that accompanied each
           hula varied with the hula, but was definitely established for
           each variety of hula. The author’s studies, however, lead him
           to conclude that, whatever may have been the original demands
           of the gods, in the long run they were not overparticular and
           were not only willing to put up with, but were well pleased
           so long as the offering contained, good pork or fish and
           strong awa.


                Ku piliki’i Hanalei-lehua,[396] la;
                Kao’o[397] ’luna o ka naéle,[398] la;
                Ka Pili-iki i ka Hua-moa, la;
                E ka mauna o ke a’a lewalewa[399] la.
            5   A lewa ka hope o ko’u hoa, la,
[Page 211]      A ko-ú ka hope o ke koléa, la—
                Na u’i elua.[400]
                Ki-ki’i ka ua i ka nana keia, la.[401]

           [Footnote 396: _Hanalei-lehua_. A wilderness back of Hanalei
           valley, Kauai, in which the lehua tree abounds. The features
           of this region are as above described.]

           [Footnote 397: _Kaó’o_. To bend down the shrubs and tussocks of
           grass to furnish solid footing in crossing swampy ground.]

           [Footnote 398: _Naé’le_. Boggy ground; a swamp, such as pitted
           the summit of Kauai’s central mountain mass, Waiáleále.]

           [Footnote 399: _A’a lewalewa_. Aerial roots such as are put
           forth by the lehua trees in high altitudes and in a damp
           climate. They often aid the traveler by furnishing him with a
           sort of ladder.]

           [Footnote 400: _U’i elua_. Literally two beauties. One
           interpreter says the reference is to the arms, with which one
           pulls himself up; it is here rendered “flanks.”]

           [Footnote 401: _Ki-ki’i ka ua i ka nana keia, la_. The meaning
           of this passage is obscure. The most plausible view is that
           this is an exclamation made by one of the two travelers while
           crouching for shelter under an overhanging bank. This one,
           finding himself unprotected, exclaims to his companion on the
           excellence of the shelter he has found, whereupon the second
           man comes over to share his comfort only to find that he has
           been hoaxed and that the deceiver has stolen his former
           place. The language of the text seems a narrow foundation on
           which to base such an incident. A learned Hawaiian friend,
           however, finds it all implied in this passage.]




                Perilous, steep, is the climb to Hanalei woods;
                To walk canny footed over its bogs;
                To balance oneself on its ledges,
                And toil up ladder of hanging roots.
            5   The bulk of my guide overhangs me,
                His loins are well-nigh exhausted;
                Two beautiful shapes!
                ’Neath this bank I crouch sheltered from rain.

           At first blush this mele seems to be the account of a
           perilous climb through that wild mountainous region that lies
           back of Hanalei, Kauai, a region of tangled woods, oozy
           steeps, fathomless bogs, narrow ridges, and overhanging
           cliffs that fall away into profound abysses, making such an
           excursion a most precarious adventure. This is what appears
           on the surface. Hawaiian poets, however, did not indulge in
           landscape-painting for its own sake; as a rule, they had some
           ulterior end in view, and that end was the portrayal of some
           primal human passion, ambition, hate, jealousy, love,
           especially love. Guided by this principle, one asks what
           uncouth or romantic love adventure this wild mountain climb
           symbolizes. All the Hawaiians whom the author has consulted
           on this question deny any hidden meaning to this mele.
[Page 212]

                         XXVIII.—THE HULA MÚ’U-MÚ’U

           The conception of this peculiar hula originated from a
           pathetic incident narrated in the story of Hiiaka’s journey
           to bring Prince Lohiau to the court of Pele. Hiiaka, standing
           with her friend Wahine-oma’o on the heights that overlooked
           the beach at Kahakuloa, Maui, saw the figure of a woman,
           maimed as to hands and feet, dancing in fantastic glee on a
           plate of rock by the ocean. She sang as she danced, pouring
           out her soul in an ecstasy that ill became her pitiful
           condition; and as she danced her shadow-dance, for she was
           but a ghost, poor soul! these were the words she repeated:

                Auwé, auwé, mo’ ku’u lima!
                Auwé, auwé, mo’ ku’u lima!


                Alas, alas, maimed are my hands!
                Alas, alas, maimed are my hands!

           Wahine-oma’o, lacking spiritual sight, saw nothing of this;
           but Hiiaka, in downright pity and goodness of impulse,
           plucked a hala fruit from the string about her neck and threw
           it so that it fell before the poor creature, who eagerly
           seized it and with the stumps of her hands held it up to
           enjoy its odor. At the sight of the woman’s pleasure Hiiaka

                Le’a wale hoi ka wahine lima-lima ole, wawae ole,
                E ha ana i kana i’a, ku’i-ku’i ana i kana opihi,
                Wa’u-wa’u ana i kana limu, Mana-mana-ia-kalu-é-a.


                How pleased is the girl maimed of hand and foot,
                Groping for fish, pounding shells of opihi,
                Kneading her moss, Mana-mana-ia-kalu-éa!

           The answer of the desolate creature, grateful for Hiiaka’s
           recognition and kind attention, was that pretty mele
           appropriated by hula folk as the wreath-song, already given
           (p. 56), which will bear repetition:

                Ke lei mai la o Ka-ula i ke kai, e-e!
                Ke malamalama o Niihau, ua malie.
                A malie, pa ka Inu-wai.
                Ke inu mai la na hala o Naue i ke kai.
            5   No Naue ka hala, no Puna ka wahine,
                No ka lua no i Kilauea.
[Page 213]


                Kaula wreathes her brow with the ocean;
                Niihau shines forth in the calm.
                After the calm blows the Inu-wai,
                And the palms of Naue drink of the salt.
            5   From Naue the palm, from Puna the maid,
                Aye, from the pit of Kilauea.

           The hula _mu’u-mu’u_, literally the dance of the maimed, has
           long been out of vogue, so that the author has met with but
           one person, and he not a practitioner of the hula, who has
           witnessed its performance. This was in Puna, Hawaii; the
           performance was by women only and was without instrumental
           accompaniment. The actors were seated in a half-reclining
           position, or kneeling. Their arms, as if in imitation of a
           maimed person, were bent at the elbows and doubled up, so
           that their gestures were made with the upper arms. The mele
           they cantillated went as follows:

                Pii ana a-áma,[402]
                A-áma kai nui;
                Kai pua-lena;
                A-áma, pai-é-a,[403]
            5   Naholo i lea laupapa.
                Popo’i, popo’i, popo’i!
                Pii mai pipipi,[404] alea-lea;
                Noho i ka malua kai
                O-ú,[405] o-í kela.
           10   Ai ka limu akaha-kaha;[406]
                Ku e, Kahiki, i ke kai nui!
                I ke kai pualena a Kane!
                A ke Akua o ka lua,
                Ua hiki i kai!
           15   Ai humu-humu,
                E lau, e lau e,
                Ka opihi[407] koele!
                Pa i uka, pa i kai,
                Kahi a ke Akua i pe’e ai.
           20   Pe’e oe a nalo loa;
                Ua nalo na Pele.
                E hua’i e, hua’i e, hua’i,
                O Ku ka mahu nui akea![408]
                Iho i kai o ka Milo-holu;[409]
           25   Auau meliana i ka wai o ke Akua.
                Ke a e, ke a mai la
                Ke ahi a ka Wahine.
                E hula e, e hula e, e hula e!
                E hula mai oukou!
           30   Ua noa no Manamana-ia-kalu-é-a,
                Puili kua, puili alo;
                Holo i kai, holo i uka,
                Holo i ka lua o Pele—
                He Akua ai pohaku no Puna.
           35   O Pi,[410] o Pa,[410] uhini mai ana,
                O Pele i ka lua.
                A noa!

           [Footnote 402: _A-áma_. An edible black crab. When the surf is
           high, it climbs up on the rocks.]

           [Footnote 403: _Pai-é-a_. An edible gray crab. The favorite
           time for taking these crabs is when the high tide or surf
           forces them to leave the water for protection.]

           [Footnote 404: _Pipípi_. A black seashell (Nerita). With it is
           often found the _alea-lea_, a gray shell. These shellfish,
           like the crabs above mentioned, crawl up the rocks and cliffs
           during stormy weather.]

           [Footnote 405: _O-ú_. A variety of eel that lurks in holes; it
           is wont to keep its head lifted. The _o-í_ (same verse) is
           an eel that snakes about in the shallow water or on the sand
           at the edge of the water.]

           [Footnote 406: _Akahakaha_. A variety of moss. If one ate of
           this as he gathered it, the ocean at once became

           [Footnote 407: _Opihi_. An edible bivalve found in the salt
           waters of Hawaii. Pele is said to have been very fond of it.
           There is an old saying, _He akua ai opihi o Pele_—“Pele is a
           goddess who eats the opihi.” In proof of this statement they
           point to the huge piles of opihi shells that may be found
           along the coast of Puna, the middens, no doubt, of the
           old-time people. _Koéle_ was a term applied to the opihi that
           lives well under water, and therefore are delicate eating.
           Another meaning given to the word _koele—opihi koele_,—line
           17—is “heaped up.”]

           [Footnote 408: _O Ku ka mahu nui akea_. The Hawaiians have come
           to treat this phrase as one word, an epithet applied to the
           god Ku. In the author’s translation it is treated as an
           ordinary phrase.]

           [Footnote 409: _Milo-hólu_. A grove of milo trees that stood,
           as some affirm, about that natural basin of warm water in
           Puna, which the Hawaiians called _Wai-wela-wela_.]

           [Footnote 410: _Pi, Pa_. These were two imaginary little beings
           who lived in the crater of Kilauea, and who declared their
           presence by a tiny shrill piping sound, such, perhaps, as a
           stick of green wood will make when burning. Pi was active at
           such times as the fires were retreating, Pa when the fires
           were rising to a full head.]
[Page 214]


                  Black crabs are climbing,
                  Crabs from the great sea,
                  Sea that is darkling.
                  Black crabs and gray crabs
              5   Scuttle o’er the reef-plate.
                  Billows are tumbling and lashing,
                  Beating and surging nigh.
                  Seashells are crawling up;
                  And lurking in holes
             10   Are the eels o-ú and o-í.
                  But taste the moss akáhakáha,
                  Kahiki! how the sea rages!
                  The wild sea of Kane!
                  The pit-god has come to the ocean,
             15   All consuming, devouring
                  By heaps the delicate shellfish!
                  Lashing the mount, lashing the sea,
                  Lurking place of the goddess.
                  Pray hide yourself wholly;
             20   The Pele women are hidden.
                  Burst forth now! burst forth!
                  Ku with spreading column of smoke!
                  Now down to the grove Milo-holu;
                  Bathe in waters warmed by the goddess.
             25   Behold, they burn, behold, they burn!
[Page 215]        The fires of the goddess burn!
                  Now for the dance, the dance!
                  Bring out the dance made public
                  By Mána-mána-ia-kálu-é-a.
             30   Turn about back, turn about face;
                  Advance toward the sea;
                  Advance toward the land,
                  Toward the pit that is Pele’s,
                  Portentous consumer of rocks in Puna.
             35   Pi and Pa chirp the cricket notes
                  Of Pele at home in her pit.
                  Have done with restraint!

           The imagery and language of this mele mark the hula to which
           it belonged as a performance of strength.
[Page 216]

                               XXIX.—THE HULA KOLANI

           For the purpose of this book the rating of any variety of
           hula must depend not so much on the grace and rhythm of its
           action on the stage as on the imaginative power and dignity
           of its poetry. Judged in this way, the _kolani_ is one of the
           most interesting and important of the hulas. Its performance
           seems to have made no attempt at sensationalism, yet it was
           marked by a peculiar elegance. This must have been due in a
           measure to the fact that only adepts—_olóhe_—those of the
           most finished skill in the art of hula, took part in its
           presentation. It was a hula of gentle, gracious action, acted
           and sung while the performers kept a sitting position, and
           was without instrumental accompaniment. The fact that this
           hula was among the number chosen for presentation before the
           king (Kamehameha III) while on a tour of Oahu in the year
           1846 or 1847 is emphatic testimony as to the esteem in which
           it was held by the Hawaiians themselves.

           The mele that accompanied this hula when performed for the
           king’s entertainment at Waimanalo was the following:

                He ua la, he ua,
                He ua pi’i mai;
                Noe-noe halau,
                Halau loa o Lono.
            5   O lono oe;
                Pa-á-a na pali
                I ka hana a Ikuwá—
                Pohá ko-ele-ele.
                A Welehu ka maláma,
           10   Noho i Makali’i;
                Li’i-li’i ka hana.
                Aia a e’é-u,
                He eu ia no ka la hiki.
                Hiki mai ka Lani,
           15   Nauweuwe ka honua,
                Ka hana a ke ola’i nui:
                Moe pono ole ko’u po—
                Na niho ai kalakala,
                Ka hana a ka Niuhi
           20   A mau i ke kai loa.
                He loa o ka hiki’na.
                A ua noa, a ua noa.
[Page 217]


                Lo, the rain, the rain!
                The rain is approaching;
                The dance-hall is murky,
                The great hall of Lono.
            5   Listen! its mountain walls
                Are stunned with the clatter,
                As when in October,
                Heaven’s thunderbolts shatter.
                Then follows Welehu,
           10   The month of the Pleiads.
                Scanty the work then done,
                Save as one’s driven.
                Spur comes with the sun,
                When day has arisen.
           15   Now comes the Heaven-born;
                The whole land doth shake,
                As with an earthquake;
                Sleep quits then my bed:
                How shall this maw be fed!
           20   Great maw of the shark—
                Eyes that gleam in the dark
                Of the boundless sea!
                Rare the king’s visits to me.
                All is free, all is free!

           If the author of this Hawaiian idyl sought to adapt its
           descriptive imagery to the features of any particular
           landscape, it would almost seem as if he had in view the very
           region in which Kauikeaouli found himself in the year 1847 as
           he listened to the mele of this unknown Hawaiian Theocritus.
           Under the spell of this poem, one is transported to the
           amphitheater of Mauna-wili, a valley separated from Waimanalo
           only by a rampart of hills. At one’s back are the abrupt
           walls of Konahuanui; at the right, and encroaching so as
           almost to shut in the front, stands the knife-edge of
           Olomana; to the left range the furzy hills of Ulamawao;
           while directly to the front, looking north, winds the green
           valley, whose waters, before reaching the ocean, spread out
           into the fish-ponds and duck swamps of Kailua. It would seem
           as if this must have been the very picture the idyllic poet
           had in mind. This smiling, yet rock-walled, amphitheater was
           the vast dance-hall of Lono—_Halau loa o Lono_ (verse
           4)—whose walls were deafened, stunned (_pa-á-a_, verse 6),
           by the tumult and uproar of the multitude that always
           followed in the wake of a king, a multitude whose night-long
           revels banished sleep: _Moe pono ole ko’u po_ (verse 17). The
           poet seems to be thinking of this same hungry multitude in
           verse 18, _Na niho ai kalakala_, literally the teeth that
           tear the food; also when he speaks of the Niuhi (verse 19), a
           mythical shark, the glow of whose eyes was said to be visible
[Page 218  for a great distance in the ocean, _A mau i ke
           kai loa_ (verse 20). _Ikuwá, Welehu, Makali’i_ (verses 7, 9,
           and 10). These were months in the Hawaiian year corresponding
           to a part of September, October and November, and a part of
           December. The Hawaiian year began when the Pleiades
           (_Makali’i_) rose at sunset (about November 20), and was
           divided into twelve lunar months of twenty-nine or thirty
           days each. The names of the months differed somewhat in the
           different parts of the group. The month _Ikuwá_ is said to
           have been named from its being the season of thunderstorms.
           This does not of itself settle the time of its occurrence,
           for the reason that in Hawaii the procession of the seasons
           and the phenomena of weather follow no definite order; that
           is, though electrical storms occur, there is no definite
           season of thunderstorms.

           _Maka-li’i_ (verse 10) was not only the name of a month and
           the name applied to the Pleiades, but was also a name given
           the cool, the rainy, season. The name more commonly given
           this season was _Hooilo_. The Makahiki period, continuing
           four months, occurred at this time of the year. This was a
           season when the people rested from unnecessary labor and
           devoted themselves to festivals, games, and special religious
           observances. Allusion is made to this avoidance of toil in
           the words _Li’ili’i ka hana_ (verse 11).

           One can not fail to perceive a vein of gentle sarcasm
           cropping up in this idyl, softened, however, by a spirit of
           honest good feeling. Witness the following: _Noe-noe_ (verse
           3), primarily meaning cloudy, conveys also the idea of
           agreeable coolness and refreshment. Again, while the
           multitude that follows the king is compared to the ravenous
           man-eating _Niuhi_ (verse 19), the final remark as to the
           rarity of the king’s visits, _He loa o ka hiki’na_ (verse
           21), may be taken not only as a salve to atone for the
           satire, but as a sly self-gratulation that the affliction is
           not to be soon repeated.
[Page 219]

                               XXX.—THE HULA KOLEA

           There was a peculiar class of hulas named after animals, in
           each one of which the song-maker developed some
           characteristic of the animal in a fanciful way, while the
           actors themselves aimed to portray the animal’s movements in
           a mimetic fashion. To this class belongs the hula _kolea_.[411]
           It was a peculiar dance, performed, as an informant asserts,
           by actors who took the kneeling posture, all being placed in
           one row and facing in the same direction. There were gestures
           without stint, arms, heads, and bodies moving in a fashion
           that seemed to imitate in a far-off way the movements of the
           bird itself. There was no instrumental accompaniment to the
           music. The following mele is one that was given with this

                Kolea kai piha![412]
                I aha mai nei?
                Ku-nou[413] mai nei.
                E aha kakou?
            5   E ai kakou.[414]
                Nohea ka ai?[415]
                No Kahiki mai.[415]
                Hiki mai ka Lani,[415]
                Olina Hawaii,
           10   Mala’ela’e ke ala,
                Nou, e ka Lani.
                Puili pu ke aloha,
                Pili me ka’u manu.[416]
                Ka puana a ka moe?
           15   Moe oe a hoolana
[Page 220]      Ka hali’a i hiki mai;
                Ooe pu me a’u
                Noho pu i ka wai aliali.
                Hai’na ia ka pauna.
           20   O ka hua o ke kolea, aia i Kahiki.[417]
                Hiki mai kou aloha, mae’ele au.

           [Footnote 411: The plover.]

           [Footnote 412: _Kolea kai piha_. The kolea is a feeder along
           the shore, his range limited to a narrower strip as the tide
           rises. The snare was one of the methods used by the Hawaiians
           for the capture of this bird. In his efforts to escape when
           snared he made that futile bobbing motion with his head that
           must be familiar to every hunter.]

           [Footnote 413: Usually the bobbing motion, _ku-nou_, is the
           prelude to flight; but the snared bird can do nothing more, a
           fact which suggests to the poet the nodding and bowing of two
           lovers when they meet.]

           [Footnote 414: _E ai kakou_. Literally, let us eat. While this
           figure of speech often has a sensual meaning, it does not
           necessarily imply grossness. Hawaiian literalness and
           narrowness of vocabulary is not to be strained to the
           overthrow of poetical sentiment.]

           [Footnote 415: To the question _Nohea ka ai?_, whence the food?
           that is, the bird, the poet answers, _No Kahiki mai_, from
           Kahiki, from some distant region, the gift of heaven, it may
           be, as implied in the next line, _Hiki mai ka Lani_. The
           coming of the king, or chief, _Lani_, literally, the
           heaven-born, with the consummation of the love. Exactly what
           this connection is no one can say.]

           [Footnote 416: In the expression _Pili me ka’u manu_ the poet
           returns to his figure of a bird as representing a loved one.]

           [Footnote 417: _O ka hua o ke kolea, aia i Kahiki_. In
           declaring that the egg of the kolea is laid in a foreign
           land, Kahiki, the poet enigmatizes, basing his thought on
           some fancied resemblance between the mystery of love and the
           mystery of the kolea’s birth.]


                A plover at the full of the sea—
                What, pray, is it saying to me?
                It keeps bobbing its noddy.
                To do what would you counsel?
            5   Why, eat its plump body!
                Whence comes the sweet morsel?
                From the land of Kahiki.
                When our sovereign appears,
                Hawaii gathers for play,
           10   Stumble-blocks cleared from the way—
                Fit rule of the king’s highway.
                Let each one embrace then his love;
                For me, I’ll keep to my dove.
                Hark now, the signal for bed!
           15   Attentive then to love’s tread,
                While a wee bird sings in the soul,
                My love comes to me heart-whole—
                Then quaff the waters of bliss.
                Say what is the key to all this?
           20   The plover egg’s laid in Kahiki.
                Your love, when it comes, finds me dumb.

           The plover—kolea—is a wayfarer in Hawaii; its nest-home is
           in distant lands, Kahiki. The Hawaiian poet finds in all this
           something that reminds him of the spirit of love.
[Page 221]

                             XXXI.—THE HULA MANÓ

           The hula _manó_, shark-dance, as its name signifies, was a
           performance that takes class with the hula kolea, already
           mentioned, as one of the animal dances. But little can be
           said about the physical features of this hula as a dance,
           save that the performers took a sitting position, that the
           action was without sensationalism, and that there was no
           instrumental accompaniment. The cantillation of the mele was
           in the distinct and quiet tone and manner which the Hawaiians
           termed ko’i-honua.

           The last and only mention found of its performance in modern
           times was in the year 1847, during the tour, previously
           mentioned, which Kamehameha III made about Oahu. The place
           was the lonely and romantic valley of Waimea, a name already
           historic from having been the scene of the tragic death of
           Lieutenant Hergest (of the ship _Dædalus_) in 1792.


                Auwe! pau au i ka manó nui, e!
                Lala-kea[418] niho pa-kolu.
                Pau ka papa-ku o Lono[419]
                I ka ai ia e ka manó nui,
            5   O Niuhi maka ahi,
                Olapa i ke kai lipo.
                Ahu e! au-we!
                A pua ka wili-wili,
                A nanahu ka manó,[420]
[Page 222] 10   Auwe! pau au i ka manó nui!
                Kai uli, kai ele,
                Kai popolohua o Kane.
                A lealea au i ka’u hula,
                Pau au i ka manó nui!

           [Footnote 418: _Lala-kea_. This proper name, as it seems once
           to have been, has now become rather the designation of a
           whole class of man-eating sea-monsters. The Hawaiians
           worshiped individual sharks as demigods, in the belief that
           the souls of the departed at death, or even before death,
           sometimes entered and took possession of them, and that they
           at times resumed human form. To this class belonged the
           famous shark Niuhi (verse 5).]

           [Footnote 419: _Papa-ku o Lono_. This was one of the underlying
           strata of the earth that must be passed before reaching
           _Mílu_, the hades of the Hawaiians. The cosmogony of the
           southern Polynesians, according to Mr. Tregear, recognized
           ten _papa_, or divisions. “The first division was the earth’s
           surface; the second was the abode of Rongo-ma-tane and
           Haumia-tiketike; ... the tenth was Meto, or Ameto, or
           Aweto, wherein the soul of man found utter extinction.” (The
           Maori-Polynesian Comparative Dictionary, by Edward Tregear,
           F.R.G.S., etc., Wellington, New Zealand, 1891.)]

           [Footnote 420: Verses 8 and 9 are from an old proverb which the
           Hawaiians put into the following quatrain:

                A pua ka wiliwili,
                A nanahu ka manó;
                A pua ka wahine u’i,
                A nanahu ke kanawai.


                When flowers the wiliwili,
                Then bites the shark;
                When flowers a young woman.
                Then bites the law.

           The people came to take this old saw seriously and literally,
           and during the season when the wiliwili (Erythrina
           monosperma) was clothed in its splendid tufts of brick-red,
           mothers kept their children from swimming into the deep sea
           by setting before them the terrors of the shark.]



                    Alas! I am seized by the shark, great shark!
                    Lala-kea with triple-banked teeth.
                    The stratum of Lono is gone,
                    Torn up by the monster shark,
                5   Niuhi with fiery eyes,
                    That flamed in the deep blue sea.
                    Alas! and alas!
                    When flowers the wili-wili tree,
                    That is the time when the shark-god bites.
                10  Alas! I am seized by the huge shark!
                    O blue sea, O dark sea,
                    Foam-mottled sea of Kane!
                    What pleasure I took in my dancing!
                    Alas! now consumed by the monster shark!

           Who would imagine that a Hawaiian would ever picture the god
           of love as a shark? As a bird, yes; but as a shark! What a
           light this fierce idyl casts on the imagination of the people
           of ancient Hawaii!
[Page 223]

                             XXXII.—THE HULA ILÍO

           The dog took his part and played his enthusiastic rôle in the
           domestic life of every Hawaiian. He did not starve in a
           fool’s paradise, a neglected object of man’s superstitious
           regard, as in Constantinople; nor did he vie with kings and
           queens in the length and purity of his pedigree, as in
           England; but in Hawaii he entered with full heart of sympathy
           into all of man’s enterprises, and at his death bequeathed
           his body a sacrifice to men and gods. It was fitting that the
           Hawaiian poet should celebrate the dog and his altogether
           virtuous and altruistic services to mankind. The hula _ilío_
           may be considered as part of Hawaii’s tribute to man’s most
           faithful friend, the dog.

           The hula ilío was a classic performance that demanded of the
           actors much physical stir; they shifted their position, now
           sitting, now standing; they moved from place to place;
           indulged in many gestures, sometimes as if imitating the
           motions of the dog. This hula has long been out of
           commission. Like the two animal-hulas previously mentioned,
           it was performed without the aid of instrumental

           The allusions in this mele are to the mythical story that
           tells of Kane’s drinking, revels on the heights about Waipi’o
           valley; how he and his fellows by the noise of their furious
           conching disturbed the prayers and rituals of King Liloa and
           his priests, Kane himself being the chief offender by his
           blowing on the conch-shell Kihapú, stolen from Liloa’s temple
           of Paka’alana: its recovery by the wit and dramatic action of
           the gifted dog Puapua-lenalena. (See p. 131.)


                Ku e, naná e!
                Makole[421] o Ku!
                Hoolei ia ka lei,[422]
                I lei no Puapua-lenalena,
            5   He lei hinano no Kahili,[423]
                He wehiwehi no Niho-kú[424]
[Page 224]      Kaanini ka lani,[425] uwé ka honua:
                A aoa aku oe;
                Lohe o Hiwa-uli,[426]
           10   Ka milimili a ka lani.
                Noho opua i ka malámaláma
                Málama ia ka ipu.[427]
                He hano-wai no Kilioe,[428]
                Wahine noho pali o Haena.
           15   Enaena na ahi o Kilauea,[429]
                Ka haku pali o Kamohoalii.[430]
                A noho i Waipi’o,
                Ka pali kapu a Kane.
                Moe ole ka po o ke alii,
           20   Ke kani mau o Kiha-pú.
                Ukiuki, uluhua ke alii:
                Hoouna ka elele;[431]
                Loaa i Kauai o Máno,
                Kupueu a Wai-uli me Kahili;
           25   A ao aku oe, aoa,[432] aoa a aoa.
                Hana e o Kaua-hoa,[433]
                Ka mea ū i o Hanalei,
                Hu’e’a kaua, moe i ke awakea,
[Page 225]      Kapae ke kaua o ka hoahanau![434]
           30   Hookahi no pua o ka oi;
                Awili pu me ke kaio’e.[435]
                I lei no Puapua-lenalena.
                O ku’u luhi ua hiki iho la,
                Ka nioi o Paka’a-lana.[436]
           35   A lana ka manao, hakuko’i ’loko,
                Ka hae mau ana a Puapua-lenalena,
                A hiki i Kuma-kahi,[437]
                Kahi au i  noho ai,
                A hiki iho la ka elele,
           40   Inu i ka awa kau-laau o Puna.[438]
                Aoa, he, he, hene!

           [Footnote 421: _Makole_. Red-eyed; ophthalmic.]

           [Footnote 422: The wreath, _lei_, is not for the god, but for
           the dog Puapua-lenalena, the one who in the story recovered
           the stolen conch, _Kiha-pú_ (verse 20), with which god Kane
           made night hideous and disturbed the repose of pious King
           Liloa (_Moe ole ka po o ke alii_, verse 19).]

           [Footnote 423: _Kahili_. Said to be the foster mother of

           [Footnote 424: _Niho-kú_. Literally an upright tooth, was the
           name of the hill on which lived the old couple who were the
           foster parents of the dog.]

           [Footnote 425: _Kaanini ka lani_, etc. Portents by which heaven
           and earth expressed their appreciation of the birth of a new
           prodigy, the dog Puapua-lenalena.]

           [Footnote 426: _Hiwa-uli_. An epithet applied to the island of
           Hawaii, perhaps on account of the immense extent of territory
           on that island that was simply black lava; _hiwa_, black, was
           a sacred color. The term _uli_ has reference to its

           [Footnote 427: _Ipu_. Wai-uli, the foster father of the dog,
           while fishing in a mountain brook, brought up a pebble on his
           hook; his wife, who was childless and yearned for offspring,
           kept it in a calabash wrapped in choice tapa. In a year or
           two it had developed into the wonderful dog, Puapua-lenalena.
           The calabash was the _ipu_ here mentioned, the same as the
           _hano wai_ (verse 13), a water-container.]

           [Footnote 428: _Kilióe_. A sorceress who lived at Haena, Kauai,
           on the steep cliffs that were inaccessible to human foot.]

           [Footnote 429: _Ena-ena, na ahi o Kilauea_. “Hot are the fires
           of Kilauea.” The duplicated word _ena-ena_, taken in
           connection with _Ha-ena_ in the previous verse, is a capital
           instance of a form of assonance, or nonterminal rhyme, much
           favored and occasionally used by Hawaiian poets of the middle
           period. From the fact that its use here introduces a break in
           the logical relation which it is hard to reconcile with unity
           one may think that the poet was seduced from the straight and
           narrow way by this opportunity for an indulgence that
           sacrifices reason to rhyme.]

           [Footnote 430: _Kamoho-alii_. The brother of Pele; his person
           was so sacred that the flames and smoke of Kilauea dared not
           invade the bank on which he reposed. The connection of
           thought between this and the main line of argument is not

           [Footnote 431: _Hoouna ka elele_. According to one story Liloa
           dispatched a messenger to bring Puapua-lenalena and his
           master to Waipi’o to aid him in regaining possession of

           [Footnote 432: _A ao aku oe, aoa_ ... This indicated the
           dog’s assent. Puapua-lenalena understood what was said to
           him, but could make no reply in human speech. When a question
           was put to him, if he wished to make a negative answer, he
           would keep silent; but if he wished to express assent to a
           proposition, he barked and frisked about.]

           [Footnote 433: _Hana e o Kaua-hoa_ ... No one has been found
           who can give a satisfactory explanation of the logical
           connection existing between the passage here cited and the
           rest of the poem. It treats of an armed conflict between
           Kauahoa and his cousin Kawelo, a hero from Oahu, which took
           place on Kauai. Kauahoa was a retainer and soldier of
           Ai-kanaka, a king of Kauai. The period was in the reign of
           King Kakuhihewa, of Oahu. Kawelo invaded Kauai with an armed
           force and made a proposition to Kauahoa which involved
           treachery to Kauahoa’s liege-lord Ai-kanaka. Kauahoa’s answer
           to this proposition is given in verse 28; _Hu’e a kaua, moe i
           ke awakea!_—“Strike home, then sleep at midday!” The sleep
           at midday was the sleep of death.]

           [Footnote 434: _Kapae ke kaua o ka hoahanau!_ This was the
           reply of Kawelo, urging Kauahoa to set the demands of kinship
           above those of honor and loyalty to his liege-lord. In the
           battle that ensued Kauahoa came to his death. The story of
           Kawelo is full of romance.]

           [Footnote 435: _Kaio’e_. Said to be a choice and beautiful
           flower found on Kauai. It is not described by Hillebrand.]

           [Footnote 436: _Ka nioi o Paka’a-lana_. The doorsill of the
           temple, _heiau_, of Paka’a-lana was made of the exceedingly
           hard wood _nioi_. It was to this temple that Puapua-lenalena
           brought the conch Kiha-pú when he had stolen (recovered) it
           from god Kane.]

           [Footnote 437: _Qumukahi_. See note _c_ on p. 197.]

           [Footnote 438: _Awa kau-laau o Puna_. It is said that in Puna
           the birds sometimes planted the awa in the stumps or in the
           crotches of the trees, and this awa was of the finest

           The author of this mele, apparently under the sanction of his
           poetic license, uses toward the great god Ku a plainness of
           speech which to us seems satirical; he speaks of him as
           _makole_, red-eyed, the result, no doubt, of his notorious
           addiction to awa, in which he was not alone among the gods.
           But it is not at all certain that the Hawaiians looked upon
           this ophthalmic redness as repulsive or disgraceful.
           Everything connected with awa had for them a cherished value.
           In the mele given on p. 130 the cry was, “Kane is drunken
           with awa!” The two gods Kane and Ku were companions in their
           revels as well as in nobler adventures. Such a poem as this
           flashes a strong light into the workings of the Hawaiian mind
           on the creations of their own imagination, the beings who
           stood to them as gods; not robbing them of their power, not
           deposing them from the throne of the universe, perhaps not
           even penetrating the veil of enchantment and mystery with
           which the popular regard covered them, at the most perhaps
           giving them a hold on the affections of the people.



                Look forth, god Ku, look forth!
                Huh! Ku is blear-eyed!
                Aye, weave now the wreath—
                A wreath for the dog Pua-lena;
            5   A hala plume for Kahili,
                Choice garlands from Niho-kú.
[Page 226]      There was a scurry of clouds, earth groaned;
                The sound of your baying reached
                Hawaii the verdant, the pet of the gods;
           10   A portent was seen in the heavens.
                You were kept in a cradle of gourd,
                Water-gourd of the witch Kilioe,
                Who haunted the cliffs of Haena—
                The fiery blasts of the crater
           15   Touch not Kamoho-alii’s cliff.
                Your travel reaches Waipi’o,
                The sacred cliff of god Kane.
                Sleep fled the bed of the king
                At the din of the conch Kiha-pú.
           20   The king was tormented, depressed;
                His messenger sped on his way;
                Found help from Kauai of Máno—
                The marvelous foster child,
                By Waiuli, Kahuli, upreared;
           25   Your answer, a-o-a, a-o-a!—
                ’Twas thus Kauahoa made ready betimes,
                That hero of old Hanalei—
                “Strike home! then sleep at midday!”
                “God fend a war between kindred!”
           30   One flower all other surpasses;
                Twine with it a wreath of kai-o’e,
                A chaplet to crown Pua-lena.
                My labor now has its reward,
                The doorsill of Pa-ka’a-lana.
           35   My heart leaps up in great cheer;
                The bay of the dog greets my ear,
                It reaches East Cape by the sea,
                Where Puna gave refuge to thee,
                Till came the king’s herald, hot-foot,
           40   And quaffed the awa’s tree-grown root.
                A-o-a, a-o-a, he, he, hene!

           The problem to be solved by the translator of this peculiar
           mele is a difficult one. It involves a constant readjustment
           of the mental standpoint to meet the poet’s vagrant fancy,
           which to us seems to occupy no consistent point of view. If
           this difficulty arises from the author’s own lack of insight,
           he can at least absolve himself from the charge of negligence
           and lack of effort to discover the standpoint that shall give
           unity to the whole composition; and can console himself with
           the reflection that no native Hawaiian scholar with whom he
           has conferred has been able to give a key to the solution of
           this problem. In truth, the native Hawaiian scholars of
           to-day do not appreciate as we do the necessity of holding
           fast to one viewpoint. They seem to be willing to accept with
           gusto any production of their old-time singers, though they
           may not be able to explain them, and though to us, in whose
           hearts the songs of the masters ever make music, they may
           seem empty riddles.
[Page 227]
           The solution of this problem here furnished is based on
           careful study of the text and of the allusions to tradition
           and myth that therein abound. Its expression in the
           translation has rendered necessary occasional slight
           departures from absolute literalness, and has involved the
           supplying of certain conjunctive and explanatory words and
           phrases of which the original, it is true, gives no hint, but
           without which the text would be meaningless.

           One learned Hawaiian with whom the author has enjoyed much
           conference persists in taking a most discouraging and
           pessimistic view of this mele. It is gratifying to be able to
           differ from him in this matter and to be able to sustain
           one’s position by the consenting opinion of other Hawaiians
           equally accomplished as the learned friend just referred to.

           The incidents in the story of Puapua-lenalena alluded to in
           the mele do not exactly chime with any version of the legend
           met with. That is not strange. Hawaiian legends of necessity
           had many variants, especially where, as in this case, the
           adventures of the hero occurred in part on one and in part on
           another island. The author’s knowledge of this story is
           derived from various independent sources, mainly from a
           version given to his brother, Joseph S. Emerson, who took it
           down from the words of an intelligent Hawaiian youth of

           English literature, so far as known to the author, does not
           furnish any example that is exactly comparable to or that
           will serve as an illustration of this nonterminal rhyme,
           which abounds in Hawaiian poetry. Perhaps the following will
           serve the purpose of illustration:

                ’Twas the swine of Gadara, fattened on _mast_.
                The _mast_-head watch of a ship was the last
                To see the wild herd careering past,

           Or such a combination as this:

                He was a mere _flat_,
                Yet _flat_tered the girls.

           Such artificial productions as these give us but a momentary
           intellectual entertainment. While the intellectual element in
           them was not lacking with the Hawaiians, the predominant
           feeling, no doubt, was a sensuous delight coming from the
           repetition of a full-throated vowel-combination.
[Page 228]

                            XXXIII.—THE HULA PUA’A

           The hula _pua’a_ rounds out the number of animal-dances that
           have survived the wreck of time, or the memory of which has
           come down to us. It was a dance in which only the olapa took
           part without the aid of instrumental accompaniment. Women as
           well as men were eligible as actors in its performance. The
           actors put much spirit into the action, beating the chest,
           flinging their arms in a strenuous fashion, throwing the body
           into strained attitudes, at times bending so far back as
           almost to touch the floor. This energy seems to have invaded
           the song, and the cantillation of the mele is said to have
           been done in that energetic manner called _ai-ha’a_.

           The hula pua’a seems to have been native to Kauai. The author
           has not been able to learn of its performance within historic
           times on any other island.

           The student of Hawaiian mythology naturally asks whether the
           hula pua’a concerned itself with the doings of the
           mythological hog-deity Kama-pua’a whose amour with Pele was
           the scandal of Hawaiian mythology. It takes but a superficial
           reading of the mele to answer this question in the

           The following mele, or oli more properly, which was used in
           connection with the hula pua’a, is said to have been the
           joint production of two women, the daughters of a famous bard
           named Kana, who was the reputed brother of Limaloa
           (long-armed), a wonder-working hero who piled up the clouds
           in imitation of houses and mountains and who produced the


                Ko’i maka nui,[439]
                Ike ia na pae moku,
                Na moku o Mala-la-walu,[440]
                Ka noho a Ka-maulu-a-niho,
            5   Kupuna o Kama-pua’a.
[Page 229]      Ike ia ka hono a Pii-lani;[441]
                Ku ka paóa i na mokupuni.
                Ua puni au ia Pele,
                Ka u’i noho mau i Kilauea,
           10   Anau hewa i ke a o Puna.
                Keiki kolohe a Ku ame Hina—[442]
                Hina ka opua, kau i ke olewa,
                Ke ao pua’a[443] maalo i Haupu.
                Haku’i ku’u manao e hoi[444] i Kahiki;
           15   Pau ole ka’u hoohihi ia Hale-ma’u-ma’u,[445]
                I ka pali kapu a Ka-moho-alii.[446]
                Kela kuahiwi a mau a ke ahi.
                He manao no ko’u e noho pu;
                Pale ’a mai e ka hilahila,
           20   I ka hakukole ia mai e ke Akua wahine
                Pale oe, pale au, iloko o ka hilahila;
                A hilahila wale ia iho no e oe;
                Nau no ia hale i noho.[447]
                Ka hana ia a ke Ko’i maka nui,
           25   Ike ia na pae moku.
                He hiapo[448] au na Olopana,
                He hi’i-alo na Ku-ula,
                Ka mea nana na haka moa;
[Page 230]      Noho i ka uka o Ka-liu-wa’a;[449]
           30   Ku’u wa’a ia ho’i i Kahiki.
                Pau ia ike ana ia Hawaii,
                Ka aina a ke Akua i hiki mai ai,
                I noho malihini ai i na moku o Hawaii.
                Malihini oe, malihini au,
           35   Ko’i maka nui, ike ia na-pae opuaa.
                A pepelu, a pepelu, a pepelu
                Ko ia la huelo! pili i ka lemu!
                Hu! hu! hu! hu!
                Ka-haku-ma’a-lani[450] kou inoa!
           40   A e o mai oe, e Kane-hoa-lani.
                Ua noa.

           [Footnote 439: _Ko’i maka nui_ The word _maka_, which from the
           connection here must mean the edge of an ax, is the word
           generally used to mean an eye. Insistence on their
           peculiarity leads one to think that there must have been
           something remarkable about the eyes of Kama-pua’a. One
           account describes Kama-pua’a as having eight eyes and as many
           feet. It is said that on one occasion as Kama-pua’a was lying
           in wait for Pele in a volcanic bubble in the plains of Puna
           Pele’s sisters recognized his presence by the gleam of his
           eyes. They immediately walled up the only door of exit.]

           [Footnote 440: _Mala-la-walu_. A celebrated king of Maui, said
           to have been a just ruler, who was slain in battle on Hawaii
           while making war against Lono-i-ka-makahiki, the rightful
           ruler of the island. It may be asked if the name is not
           introduced here because of the word _walu_ (eight) as a
           reference to Kama-pua’a’s eight eyes.]

           [Footnote 441: _Pi’i-lani_. A king of Maui, father-in-law to
           Umi, the son of Liloa.]

           [Footnote 442: _Hina_. There were several Hinas in Hawaiian
           mythology and tradition. Olopana, the son of Kamaulu-a-niho
           (Fornander gives this name as Ka-maunu-a-niho), on his
           arrival from Kahiki, settled in Koolau and married a woman
           named Hina. Kama-pua’a is said to be the natural son of Hina
           by Kahiki-ula, the brother of Olopana. To this Olopana was
           attributed the heiau of Kawaewae at Kaneohe.]

           [Footnote 443: _Ao pu-a’a_. The cloud-cap that often rested on
           the summit of Haupu, a mountain on Kauai, near Koloa, is said
           to have resembled the shape of a pig. It was a common saying,
           “The pig is resting on Haupu.”]

           [Footnote 444: _Ho’i_. To return. This argues that, if
           Kama-pua’a was not originally from Kahiki, he had at least
           visited there.]

           [Footnote 445: _Hale-ma’u-ma’u_. This was an ancient lava-cone
           which until within a few years continued to be the most
           famous fire-lake in the caldera of Kilauea. It was so called,
           probably, because the roughness of its walls gave it a
           resemblance to one of those little shelters made from rough
           _ama’u_ fern such as visitors put up for temporary
           convenience. The word has not the same pronunciation and is
           not to be confounded with that other word _mau_, meaning

           [Footnote 446: _Kamoho-ali’i_. The brother of Pele; in one
           metamorphosis he took the form of a shark. A high point in
           the northwest quarter of the wall of Kilauea was considered
           his special residence and regarded as so sacred that no smoke
           or flame from the volcano ever touched it. He made his abode
           chiefly in the earth’s underground caverns, through which the
           sun made its nightly transit from West back to the East. He
           often retained the orb of the day to warm and illumine his
           abode. On one such occasion the hero Mawi descended into this
           region and stole away the sun that his mother Hina might have
           the benefit of its heat in drying her tapas.]

           [Footnote 447: _Hale i noho_. The word _hale_, meaning house,
           is frequently used metaphorically for the human body,
           especially that of a woman. Pele thus acknowledges her amour
           with Kama-pua’a.]

           [Footnote 448: _Hiapo_. A firstborn child. Legends are at
           variance with one another as to the parentage of Kama-pua’a.
           According to the legend referred to previously, Kama-pua’a
           was the son of Olopana’s wife Hina, his true father being
           Kahiki-ula, the brother of Olopana. Olopana seems to have
           treated him as his own son. After Kama-pua’a’s robbery of his
           mother’s henroosts, Olopana chased the thief into the
           mountains and captured him. Kama eventually turned the tables
           against his benefactor and caused the death of Olopana
           through the treachery of a priest in a heiau; he was offered
           up on the altar as a sacrifice.]

           [Footnote 449: _Ka-liu-wa’a_. The bilge of the canoe. This is
           the name of a deep and narrow valley at Hauula, Koolau, Oahu,
           and is well worth a visit. Kama-pua’a, hard pressed by the
           host of his enemies, broke through the multitude that
           encompassed him on the land side and with his followers
           escaped up this narrow gorge. When the valley came to an
           abrupt end before him, and he could retreat no farther, he
           reared up on his hind legs and scaled the mountain wall; his
           feet, as he sprang up, scored the precipice with immense
           hollowed-out grooves or flutings. The Hawaiians call these
           _wa’a_ from their resemblance to the hollow of a Hawaiian
           canoe. This feat of the hog-god compelled recognition of
           Kama-pua’a as a deity; and from that time no one entered
           Ka-liu-wa’a valley without making an offering to Kama-pua’a.]

           [Footnote 450: _Ka-haku-ma’a-lani._ A name evidently applied to



                Ax of broadest edge I’m hight;
                The island groups I’ve visited,
                Islands of Mala-la-walu,
                Seat of Ka-maulu-a-niho,
            5   Grandam of Kama, the swine-god.
                I have seen Pi’i-lani’s glory,
                Whose fame spreads over the islands.
                Enamored was I of Pele;
                Her beauty holds court at the fire-pit,
           10   Given to ravage the plains of Puna.
                Mischievous son of Ku, and of Hina,
                Whose cloud-bloom hangs in ether,
                The pig-shaped cloud that shadows Haupu.
                An impulse comes to return to Kahiki—
           15   The chains of the pit still gall me,
                The tabu cliff of Ka-moho-alii,
                The mount that is ever ablaze.
                I thought to have domiciled with her;
                Was driven away by mere shame—
           20   The shameful abuse of the goddess!
                Go thou, go I—a truce to the shame.
                It was your manners that shamed me.
                Free to you was the house we lived in.
                These were the deeds of Broad-edged-Ax,
           25   Who has seen the whole group of islands.
                Olopana’s firstborn am I,
                Nursed in the arms of Ku-ula;
[Page 231]      Hers were the roosts for the gamecocks.
                The wilds of Ka-liu-wa’a my home,
           30   That too my craft back to Kahiki;
                This my farewell to Hawaii,
                Land of the God’s immigration.
                Strangers we came to Hawaii;
                A stranger thou, a stranger I,
           35   Called Broad-edged-Ax:
                I’ve read the cloud-omens in heaven.
                It curls, it curls! his tail—it curls!
                Look, it clings to his buttocks!
                Faugh, faugh, faugh, faugh, uff!
           40   What! Ka-haku-ma’a-lani your name!
                Answer from heaven, oh Kane!
                My song it is done!

           If one can trust, the statement of the Hawaiian who
           communicated the above mele, it represents only a portion of
           the whole composition, the first canto—if we may so term
           it—having dropped into the limbo of forgetfulness. The
           author’s study of the mele lends no countenance to such a
           view. Like all Hawaiian poetry, this mele wastes no time with
           introductory flourishes; it plunges at once in medias res.

           Hawaiian mythology figured Pele, the goddess of the volcano,
           as a creature of passion, capable of many metamorphoses; now
           a wrinkled hag, asleep in a cave on a rough lava bed, with
           banked fires and only an occasional blue flame playing about
           her as symbols of her power; now a creature of terror, riding
           on a chariot of flame and carrying destruction; and now as a
           young woman of seductive beauty, as when she sought
           passionate relations with the handsome prince, Lohiau; but in
           disposition always jealous, fickle, vengeful.

           Kama-pua’a was a demigod of anomalous birth, character, and
           make-up, sharing the nature and form of a man and of a hog,
           and assuming either form as suited the occasion. He was said
           to be the nephew of Olopana, a king of Oahu, whose kindness
           in acting as his foster father he repaid by the robbery of
           his henroosts and other unfilial conduct. He lived the
           lawless life of a marauder and freebooter, not confining his
           operations to one island, but swimming from one to another as
           the fit took him. On one occasion, when the farmers of
           Waipi’o, whom he had robbed, assembled with arms to bar his
           retreat and to deal vengeance upon him, he charged upon the
           multitude, overthrew them with great slaughter, and escaped
           with his plunder.

           Toward Pele Kama-pua’a assumed the attitude of a lover, whose
           approaches she at one time permitted to her peril. The
           incident took place in one of the water caves—volcanic
           bubbles—in Puna, and at the level of the ocean; but when he
           had the audacity to invade her privacy and call to her as she
           reposed in her home at Kilauea she repelled his advances and
           answered his persistence with a fiery onset, from which he
[Page 232] fled in terror and discomfiture, not halting until he had put
           the width of many islands and ocean channels between himself
           and her.

           In seeking an explanation of this myth of Pele, the volcano
           god and Kama-pua’a, who, on occasion, was a sea-monster,
           there is no necessity to hark back to the old polemics of
           Asia. Why not account for this remarkable myth as the
           statement in terms of passion familiar to all Hawaiians of
           those impressive natural phenomena that were daily going on
           before them? The spectacle of the smoking mountain pouring
           out its fiery streams, overwhelming river and forest, halting
           not until they had invaded the ocean; the awful turmoil as
           fire and water came in contact; the quick reprisal as the
           angry waves overswept the land; then the subsiding and
           retreat of the ocean to its own limits and the restoration of
           peace and calm, the fiery mount still unmoved, an apparent
           victory for the volcanic forces. Was it not this spectacular
           tournament of the elements that the Hawaiian sought to embody
           and idealize in his myth of Pele and Kama-pua’a?[451]

           [Footnote 451: “The Hawaiian tradition of _Pele_, the dread
           goddess of the volcanic fires,” says Mr. Fornander,
           “analogous to the Samoan _Fe’e_, is probably a local
           adaptation in aftertimes of an elder myth, half forgotten and
           much distorted. The contest related in the legend between
           Pele and _Kamapua’a_, the eight-eyed monster demigod,
           indicates, however, a confused knowledge of some ancient
           strife between religious sects, of which the former
           represented the worshipers of fire and the latter those with
           whom water was the principal element worthy of adoration.”
           (Abraham Fornander, The Polynesian Race, pp. 51, 52, Trubner
           & Co., London.)]

           The likeness to be found between the amphibious Kama-pua’a
           and the hog appeals picturesquely to one’s imagination in
           many ways. The very grossness of the hog enables him
           becomingly to fill the role of the Beast as a foil to Pele,
           the Beauty. The hog’s rooting snout, that ravages the
           cultivated fields; his panicky retreat when suddenly
           disturbed; his valiant charge and stout resistance if
           cornered; his lowered snout in charge or retreat; his curling
           tail—how graphically all these features appeal to the
           imagination in support of the comparison which likens him to
           a tidal wave.
[Page 233]

                               XXXIV.—THE HULA OHELO

           The hula _ohelo_ was a very peculiar ancient dance, in which
           the actors, of both sexes, took a position almost that of
           reclining, the body supported horizontally by means of the
           hand and extended leg of one side, in such a manner that
           flank and buttock did not rest upon the floor, while the free
           leg and arm of the opposite side swung in wide gestures, now
           as if describing the arch of heaven, or sweeping the circle
           of the horizon, now held straight, now curved like a hook. At
           times the company, acting in concert, would shift their base
           of support from the right hand to the left hand, or vice
           versa. The whole action, though fantastical, was conducted
           with modesty. There was no instrumental accompaniment; but
           while performing the gymnastics above described the actors
           chanted the words of a mele to some Old World tune, the
           melody and rhythm of which are lost.

           A peculiar feature of the training to which pupils were
           subjected in preparation for this dance was to range them in
           a circle about a large fire, their feet pointing to the
           hearth. The theory of this practice was that the heat of the
           fire suppled the limbs and imparted vivacity to the motions,
           on the same principle apparently as fire enables one to bend
           into shape a crooked stick. The word _kapuahi_, fireplace, in
           the fourth line of the mele, is undoubtedly an allusion to
           this practice.

           The fact that the climate of the islands, except in the
           mountains and uplands, is rarely so cold as to make it
           necessary to gather about a fire seems to argue that the
           custom of practising this dance about a fireplace must have
           originated in some land of climate more austere than Hawaii.

           It is safe to say that very few kumu-hulas have seen and many
           have not even heard of the hula ohelo. The author has an
           authentic account of its production at Ewa in the year 1856,
           its last performance, so far as he can learn, on the public



                Ku, oe ko’u wahi ohelo nei la, auwe, auwe!
                Maka’u au i kau mea nui wali-wali, wali-wali!
                Ke hoolewa nei, a lewa la, a lewa nei!
                Minomino, enaena ka ia la kapuahi, kapuahi!
            5   Nenea i ka la’i o Kona, o Kona, a o Kona!
                Ponu malino i ke kai hawana-wana, hawana-wana!
                He makau na ka lawaia nui, a nui e, a nui la!
                Ke o-é nei ke aho o ka ipu-holoholona, holoholona!
[Page 234]      Naná i ka opua makai e, makai la!
           10   Maikai ka hana a Mali’o e, a Mali’o la!
                Kohu pono ka inu ana i ka wai, a wai e!
                Auwe, ku oe ko’u wahi ohelo nei la, ohelo nei la!


                Ki-ó lele, ki-ó lele, ki-ó lele, e!
                Ke mapu mai nei ke ala, ke ala e!
           15   Ua malihini ka hale, ua hiki ia, ua hiki e!
                Ho’i paoa i ka uka o Manai-ula, ula la, ula e!
                Maanei oe, e ka makemake e noho malie, ma-li-e!
                Ka pa kolonahe o ka Unulau mahope, ma-ho-pe!
                Pe’e oe, a pe’e au, pe’e o ia la,
           20   A haawe ke aloha i ke kaona, i ke kaona la!
                Mo-li-a i ka nahele e, nahele la!
                E hele oe a manao mai i ka luhi mua, a i-mua!
                O moe hewa na iwi i ke alanui, alanui.
                Kaapa Hawaii a ka moku nui, a nui e!
           25   Nui mai ke aloha a uwe au, a uwe au.
                Au-we! pau au i ka manó nui, manó nui!
                Au-we! pau au i ka manó nui, manó nui!




         Touched, thou art touched by my gesture, I fear, I fear.
         I dread your mountain of flesh, of flesh;
         How it sways, how it sways, it sways!
         I’m scorched by the heat of this hearth, this hearth.
     5   We bask in this summer of Kona, of Kona;
         Calm mantles the whispering sea, the whispering sea.
         Lo, the hook of the fisherman great, oh so great!
         The line hums as it runs from the gourd, from the gourd.
         Regard the cloud-omens over the sea, the sea.
    10   Well skilled in his craft is Mali’o, Mali’o.
         How grateful now were a draught of water, of water!
         Pardon! thou art touched by thrust of my leg, of my leg!


         Forth and return, forth and return, forth and return!
         Now waft the woodland perfumes, the woodland perfumes.
    15   The house ere we entered was tenant-free, quite free.
         Heart-heavy we turn to the greenwood, the greenwood;
         This the place, Heart’s desire, you should tarry,
         And feel the soft breath of the Unulau, Unulau—
         Retirement for you, retirement for me, and for him.
    20   We’ll give then our heart to this task, this great task,
         And build in the wildwood a shrine, ay a shrine.
         You go; forget not the toils we have shared, have shared,
         Lest your bones lie unblest in the road, in the road.
         How wearisome, long, the road ’bout Hawaii, great Hawaii!
    25   Love carries me off with a rush, and I cry, I cry,
         Alas, I’m devoured by the shark, great shark!

           This is not the first time that a Hawaiian poet has figured
           love by the monster shark.


[Page 235]

                            XXXV.—THE HULA KILU

           The hula _kilu_ was so called from being used in a sport
           bearing that name which was much patronized by the alii class
           of the ancient regime. It was a betting game, or, more
           strictly, forfeits were pledged, the payment of which was met
           by the performance of a dance, or by the exaction of kisses
           and embraces. The satisfaction of these forfeits not
           infrequently called for liberties and concessions that could
           not be permitted on the spot or in public, but must wait the
           opportunity of seclusion. There were, no doubt, times when
           the conduct of the game was carried to such a pitch of
           license as to offend decency; but as a rule the outward
           proprieties were seemingly as well regarded as at an
           old-fashioned husking bee, when the finding of the “red ear”
           conferred or imposed the privilege or penalty of exacting or
           granting the blushing tribute of a kiss. Actual improprieties
           were not witnessed.

           The game of kilu was played in an open matted space that lay
           between the two divisions of the audience—the women being on
           one side and the men on the other. Any chief of recognized
           rank in the _papa alii_ was permitted to join in the game;
           and kings and queens were not above participating in the
           pleasures of this sport. Once admitted to the hall or
           inclosure, all were peers and stood on an equal footing as to
           the rules and privileges of the game. King nor queen could
           plead exemption from the forfeits incurred nor deny to
           another the full exercise of privileges acquired under the

           The players, five or more of each sex, having been selected
           by the president, _La anoano_ (“quiet day”), sat facing each
           other in the space between the spectators. In front of each
           player stood a conical block of heavy wood, broad at the base
           to keep it upright. The kilu, with which the game was played,
           was an oval, one-sided dish, made by cutting in two an
           egg-shaped coconut shell. The object of the player was to
           throw his kilu so that it should travel with a sliding and at
           the same time a rotary motion across the matted floor and hit
           the wooden block which stood before the one of his choice on
           the side opposite. The men and the women took turns in
           playing. A successful hit entitled the player to claim a kiss
           from his opponent, a toll which was exacted at once. Success
           in winning ten points made one the victor in the game, and,
           according to some, entitled him to claim the larger forfeit,
[Page 236] such as was customary in the democratic game of _ume_. The
           payment of these extreme forfeits was delayed till a
           convenient season, or might be commuted—on grounds of
           policy, or at the request of the loser, if a king or
           queen—by an equivalent of land or other valuable possession.
           Still no fault could be found if the winner insisted on the
           strict payment of the forfeit.

           The game of kilu was often got up as a compliment, a supreme
           expression of hospitality, to distinguished visitors of rank,
           thus more than making good the polite phrase of the Spanish
           don, “all that I have is yours.”

           The fact that the hula kilu was performed by the alii class,
           who took great pains and by assiduous practice made
           themselves proficient that they might be ready to exhibit
           their accomplishment before the public, was a guarantee that
           this hula, when performed by them, would be of more than
           usual grace and vivacity. When performed in the halau as a
           tabu dance, according to some, the olapa alone took part, and
           the number of dancers, never very large, was at times limited
           to one performer. Authorities differ as to whether any
           musical instrument was used as an accompaniment. From an
           allusion to this dance met with in an old story it is quite
           certain that the drum was sometimes used as an accompaniment.

           Let us picture to ourselves the scene: A shadowy,
           flower-scented hall; the elite of some Hawaiian court and
           their guests, gathered, in accord with old-time practice, to
           contend in a tournament of wit and grace and skill, vying
           with one another for the prize of beauty. The president has
           established order in the assembly; the opposing players have
           taken their stations, each one seated behind his
           target-block. The tallykeeper of one side now makes the
           challenge. “This kilu,” says he, “is a love token; the
           forfeit a kiss.” An Apollo of the opposite side joyfully
           takes up the gauge. His tallykeeper introduces him by name.
           He plumes himself like a wild bird of gay feather, standing
           forth in the decorous finery of his rank, girded and
           flowerbedecked after the manner of the halau, eager to win
           applause for his party not less than to secure for himself
           the loving reward of victory. In his hand is the instrument
           of the play, the kilu; the artillery of love, however, with
           which he is to assail the heart and warm the imagination of
           the fair woman opposed to him is the song he shoots from his

           The story of the two songs next to be presented is one, and
           will show us a side of Hawaiian life on which we can not
           afford entirely to close our eyes. During the stay at Lahaina
           of Kamehameha, called the Great—whom an informant in this
           matter always calls “the murderer,” in protest against the
           treacherous assassination of Keoua, which took place at
           Kawaihae in Kamehameha’s very presence—a high chiefess of
           his court named Kalola engaged in a love affair with a young
[Page 237] man of rank named Ka’i-áma. He was much her junior, but this
           did not prevent his infatuation. Early one morning she rose,
           leaving him sound asleep, and took canoe for Molokai to serve
           as one of the escort to the body of her relative, Keola, on
           the way to its place of sepulture.

           Some woman, appreciating the situation, posted to the house
           and waked the sleeper with the information. Ka’iáma hastened
           to the shore, and as he strained his vision to gain sight of
           the woman of his infatuation the men at the paddles and the
           bristling throng on the central platform—the _pola_—of the
           craft, vanishing in the twilight, made on his imagination the
           impression of a hazy mountain thicket floating on the waves,
           but hiding from view some rare flower. He gave vent to his
           feelings in song:


                Pua ehu kamaléna[452] ka uka o Kapa’a;
                Luhi-ehu iho la[453] ka pua i Maile-húna;
                Hele a ha ka iwi[454] a ke Koolau,
                Ke puá mai i ka maka o ka nahelehele,
            5   I hali hoo-muú,[455] hoohalana i Wailua.
                Pa kahea a Koolau-wahine,
                O Pua-ke’i, e-e-e-e!
                He pua laukona[456] ka moe e aloh’ aí;
                O ia moe la, e kaulele hou[457]
           10   No ka po i hala aku aku nei.
                Hoiho kaua a eloelo, e ka hoa, e,
                A hookahi!



                Misty and dim, a bush in the wilds of Kapa’a,
                The paddlers bend to their work, as the flower-laden
                Shrub inclines to the earth in Maile-húna;
                They sway like reeds in the breeze to crack their bones
            5   Such the sight as I look at this tossing grove,
                The rhythmic dip and swing on to Wailua.
                My call to the witch shall fly with the breeze,
                Shall be heard at Pua-ke’i, e-he, e-he!
                The flower-stalk Laukóna beguiles man to love,
           10   Can bring back the taste of joys once our own,
[Page 238]      Make real again the hours that are flown.
                Turn hither, mine own, let’s drench us with love—
                Just for one night!

           [Footnote 452: _Pua ehu Kamaléna_ (yellow child). This
           exclamation is descriptive of the man’s visual impression on
           seeing the canoe with its crowd of passengers and paddlers,
           in the misty light of morning, receding in the distance. The
           kamaléna is a mountain shrub having a yellow flower.]

           [Footnote 453: _Luhi ehu iho la_. Refers to the drooping of a
           shrub under the weight of its leaves and flowers, a figure
           applied to the bending of the paddlemen to their work.]

           [Footnote 454: _Hele a ha ka iwi_. An exaggerated figure of
           speech, referring to the exertions of the men at their
           paddles (_ha_, to strain).]

           [Footnote 455: _I hali hoomú_. This refers in a fine spirit of
           exaggeration to the regular motions of the paddlers.]

           [Footnote 456: _Pua laukona_. A kind of sugar-cane which was
           prescribed and used by the kahunas as an aphrodisiac.]

           [Footnote 457: _Kaulele hou_. To experience, or to enjoy,

           The unchivalrous indiscretion of the youth in publishing the
           secret of his amour elicited from Kamehameha only the
           sarcastic remark, “Couldn’t he eat his food and keep his
           mouth shut?” The lady herself took the same view of his
           action. There was no evasion in her reply; her only reproach
           was for his childishness in blabbing.


                Kálakálaíhi, kaha[458] ka La ma ke kua o Lehua;
                Lulana iho la ka pihe a ke Akua;[459]
                Ea mai ka Unulau[460] o Halali’i;
                Lawe ke Koolau-wahine[461] i ka hoa la, lilo;
            5   Hao ka Mikioi[462] i ke kai o Lehua:
                Puwa-i’a na hoa-makani[463] mai lalo, e-e-e, a.
                I hoonalonalo i ke aloha, pe’e ma-loko;
                Ha’i ka wai-maka hanini;
                I ike aku no i ka uwe ana iho;
           10   Pelá wale no ka hoa kamalii, e-e, a!



                The sun-furrow gleams at the back of Lehua;
                The King’s had his fill of scandal and chaff;
                The wind-god empties his lungs with a laugh;
                And the Mikioi tosses the sea at Lehua,
            5   As the trade-wind wafts his friend on her way—
                A congress of airs that ruffles the bay.
                Hide love ’neath a mask—that’s all I would ask.
                To spill but a tear makes our love-tale appear;
                He pours out his woe; I’ve seen it, I know;
           10   That’s the way with a boy-friend, heigh-ho!

           The art of translating from the Hawaiian into the English
           tongue consists largely in a fitting substitution of generic
           for specific terms. The Hawaiian, for instance, had at
           command scores of specific names for the same wind, or for
[Page 239] the local modifications that were inflicted upon it by the
           features of the landscape. One might almost say that every
           cape and headland imposed a new nomenclature upon the breeze
           whose direction it influenced. He rarely contented himself
           with using a broad and comprehensive term when he could match
           the situation with a special form.

           [Footnote 458: The picture of the sun declining, _kaha_, to the
           west, its reflected light-track, _kala kalaihi_, farrowing
           the ocean with glory, may be taken to be figurative of the
           loved and beautiful woman, Kalola, speeding on her westward

           [Footnote 459: _Akua_. Literally a god, must stand for the

           [Footnote 460: _Unulau_. A special name for the trade-wind.]

           [Footnote 461: _Koolau-wahine_. Likewise another name for the
           trade-wind, here represented as carrying off the (man’s)

           [Footnote 462: _Mikioi_. An impetuous, gusty wind is
           represented as lashing the ocean at Lehua, thus picturing the
           emotional stir attending Kalola’s departure.]

           [Footnote 463: The words _Puwa-i’a na hoa makani_, which
           literally mean that the congress of winds, _na hoa makani_,
           have stirred up a commotion, even as a school of fish agitate
           the surface, of the ocean, _puwa-i’a_, refer to the scandal
           caused by Ka’i-ama’s conduct.]

           The singer restricts her blame to charging her youthful lover
           with an indiscreet exhibition of childish emotion. The mere
           display of emotion evinced by the shedding of tears was in
           itself a laudable action and in good form.

           This first reply of the woman to her youthful lover did not
           by any means exhaust her armament of retaliation. When she
           next treats of the affair it is with an added touch of
           sarcasm and yet with a sang-froid that proved it had not
           unsettled her nerves.


                Ula Kala’e-loa[464] i ka lepo a ka makani;
                Hoonu’anu’a na pua i Kalama-ula,
                He hoa i ka la’i a ka manu—[465]
                Manu ai ia i ka hoa laukona.
            5   I keke lau-au’a ia e ka moe;
                E kuhi ana ia he kanaka e.
                Oau no keia mai luna a lalo;
                Huná, ke aloha, pe’e maloko.
                Ike ’a i ka uwe ana iho.
           10   Pelá ka hoa kamalii—
                He uwe wale ke kamalii.



                Red glows Kala’e through the wind-blown dust
                That defiles the flowers of Lama-ula,
                Outraged by the croak of this bird,
                That eats of the aphrodisiac cane,
            5   And then boasts the privileged bed.
                He makes me a creature of outlaw:
                True to myself from crown to foot-sole,
                My love I’ve kept sacred, pent up within.
                He flouts it as common, weeping it forth—
           10   That is the way with a child-friend;
                A child just blubbers at nothing.

           [Footnote 464: _Kala’e-loa_. The full name of the place on
           Molokai now known as Kala’e.]

           [Footnote 465: _La’i a ka manu_. Some claim this to be a proper
           name, _La’i-a-ka-manu_, that of a place near Kala’e. However
           that may be the poet evidently uses the phrase here in its
           etymological sense.]

           To return to the description of the game, the player, having
           uttered his vaunt in true knightly fashion, with a dexterous
           whirl now sends his kilu spinning on its course. If his play
           is successful and the kilu strikes the target on the other
[Page 240] side at which he aims, the audience, who have kept silence
           till now, break forth in applause, and his tally-keeper
           proclaims his success in boastful fashion:


                A úweuwé ke kó’e a ke kae;
                Puehuehu ka la, komo inoino;
                Kakía, kahe ka ua ilalo.


                Now wriggles the worm to its goal;
                A tousling; a hasty encounter;
                A grapple; down falls the rain.

           It is now the winner’s right to cross over and claim his
           forfeit. The audience deals out applause or derision in
           unstinted measure; the enthusiasm reaches fever-point when
           some one makes himself the champion of the game by bringing
           his score up to ten, the limit. The play is often kept up
           till morning, to be resumed the following night.[466]

           [Footnote 466: The account above given is largely based on
           David Malo’s description of the game kilu. In his confessedly
           imperfect list of the hulas he does not mention the hula
           kilu. This hula was, however, included in the list of hulas
           announced for performance in the programme of King Kalakaua’s
           coronation ceremonies.]

           Here also is a mele, which tradition reports to have been
           cantillated by Hiiaka, the sister of Pele, during her famous
           kilu contest with the Princess Pele-ula, which took place at
           Kou—the ancient name for Honolulu—on Hiiaka’s voyage of
           return from Kauai to her sister’s court at Kilauea. In this
           affair Lohiau and Wahineoma’o contended on the side of
           Hiiaka, while Pele-ula was assisted by her husband, Kou, and
           by other experts. But on this occasion the dice were cogged;
           the victory was won not by human skill but by the magical
           power of Hiiaka, who turned Pele-ula’s kilu away from the
           target each time she threw it, but used her gift to compel it
           to the mark when the kilu was cast by herself.


                Ku’u noa mai ka makani kuehu-kapa o Kalalau,[467]
                Mai na pali ku’i[468] o Makua-iki,
                Ke lawe la i ka haka,[469] a lilo!
                A lilo o-e, la!
            5   Ku’u kane i ka uhu ka’i o Maka-pu’u,
                Huki iluna ka Lae-o-ka-laau;[470]
                Oia pali makua-ole[471] olaila.
                Ohiohi ku ka pali o Ulamao, e-e!
                A lilo oe, la!

           [Footnote 467: _Ka-lalau_ (in the translation by the omission
           of the article _ka_, shortened to _Lalau_). A deep
           cliff-bound valley on the windward side of Kauai, accessible
           only at certain times of the year by boats and by a steep
           mountain trail at its head.]

           [Footnote 468: _Pali ku’i_. _Ku’i_ means literally to join
           together, to splice or piece out. The cliffs tower one above
           another like the steps of a stairway.]

           [Footnote 469: _Haka_. A ladder or frame such as was laid
           across a chasm or set up at an impassable place in a
           precipitous road. The windward side of Kauai about Kalalau
           abounded in such places.]

           [Footnote 470: _Lae-o-ka-laau_. The southwest point of Molokai,
           on which is a light-house.]

           [Footnote 471: _Makua-ole_. Literally fatherless, perhaps
           meaning remarkable, without peer.]

[Page 241]



                Comrade mine in the robe-stripping gusts of Lalau,
                On the up-piled beetling cliffs of Makua,
                The ladder... is taken away... it is gone!
                Your way is cut off, my man!
            5   With you I’ve backed the uhu of Maka-pu’u,
                Tugging them up the steeps of Point-o’-woods,
                A cliff that stands fatherless, even as
                Sheer stands the pali of Ula-mao—
                And thus... you are lost!

           This is but a fragment of the song which Hiiaka pours out in
           her efforts to calm the fateful storm which she saw piling up
           along the horizon. The situation was tragic. Hiiaka, daring
           fate, defying the dragons and monsters of the primeval world,
           had made the journey to Kauai, had snatched away from death
           the life of Lohiau and with incredible self-denial was
           escorting the rare youth to the arms of her sister, whose
           jealousy she knew to be quick as the lightning, her vengeance
           hot as the breath of the volcano, and now she saw this
           featherhead, with monstrous ingratitude, dallying with fate,
           calling down upon the whole party the doom she alone could
           appreciate, all for the smile of a siren whose charms
           attracted him for the moment; but, worst of all, her heart
           condemned her as a traitress—she loved him.

           Hiiaka held the trick-card and she won; by her miraculous
           power she kept the game in her own hands and foiled the hopes
           of the lovers.


                Ula ka lani ia Kanaloa,[472]
                Ula ma’ema’e ke ahi a ke A’e-loa.[473]
                Pohina iluna i ke ao makani,
                Naue pu no i ka ilikai o Makahana-loa,[474]
            5   Makemake i ka ua lihau.[475]
                Aohe hana i koe a Ka-wai-loa;[476]
                Noho a ka li’u-lá i ke kula.
                I kula oe no ka makemake, a hiki iho,
                I hoa hula no ka la le’ale’a,
           10   I noho pu me ka uahi pohina.[477]
[Page 242]      Hina oe i ka Naulu,[478] noho pu me ka Inuwai.[479]
                Akahi no a pumehana ka hale, ua hiki oe:
                Ma’ema’e ka luna i Haupu.[480]
                Upu ka makemake e ike ia Ka-ala.
           15   He ala ka makemake e ike ia Lihu’e;[481]
                Ku’u uka ia noho ia Halemano.[482]
                Maanei oe, pale oe, pale au,
                Hana ne’e ke kikala i ka ha’i keiki.
                Hai’na ka manao—noho i Waimea,
           20   Hoonu’u pu i ka i’a ku o ka aina.[483]
                E kala oe a kala au a kala ia Ku, Ahuena.[484]

           [Footnote 472: _Kanaloa_. One of the four great gods of the
           Hawaiians, here represented as playing the part of Phoebus

           [Footnote 473: _A’e-loa_. The name of a wind whose blowing was
           said to be favorable to the fisherman in this region.]

           [Footnote 474: _Makahana-loa_, A favorite fishing ground. The
           word _ilikai_ (“skin of the sea”) graphically depicts the
           calm of the region. In the translation the name
           aforementioned has been shortened to Kahana.]

           [Footnote 475: _Lihau_. A gentle rain that was considered
           favorable to the work of the fisherman.]

           [Footnote 476: _Ka-wai-loa_. A division of Waialua, here
           seemingly used to mean the farm.]

           [Footnote 477: _Uahi pohina_. Literally gray-headed smoke. It
           is said that when studying together the words of the mele the
           pupils and the kumu would often gather about a fire, while
           the teacher recited and expounded the text. There is a
           possible allusion to this in the mention of the smoke.]

           [Footnote 478: _Naulu_. A wind.]

           [Footnote 479: _Inu-wai_. A wind that dried up vegetation, here
           indicating thirst.]

           [Footnote 480: _Haupu_. A mountain on Kauai, sometimes visible
           on Oahu in clear weather. (See note _c_, p. 229, on Haupu.)]

           [Footnote 481: _Lihu’e_. A beautiful and romantic region
           nestled, as the Hawaiians say, “between the thighs of the
           mountain,” Mount Kaala.]

           [Footnote 482: _Hale-mano_. Literally the multitude of houses;
           a sylvan region bound to the southwestern flank of the
           Konahuanui range of mountains, a region of legend and
           romance, since the coming of the white man given over to the
           ravage and desolation that follow the free-ranging of cattle
           and horses, the vaquero, and the abusive use of fire and ax
           by the woodman.]

           [Footnote 483: _I’a ku o ka aina_. Fish common to a region; in
           this place it was probably the kala, which word is found in
           the next line, though in a different sense. Here the
           expression is doubtless a euphemism for dalliance.]

           [Footnote 484: _Ku, Ahuena_. At Waimea, Oahu, stood two rocks
           on the opposite bluffs that sentineled the bay. These rocks
           were said to represent respectively the gods Ku and Ahuena,
           patrons of the local fishermen.]



                Kanaloa tints heaven with a blush,
                ’Tis the flame of the A’e, pure red,
                And gray the wind-clouds overhead.
                We trudge to the waters calm of Kahana—
            5   Heaven grant us a favoring shower!
                The work is all done on the farm.
                We stay till twilight steals o’er the plain,
                Then, love-spurred, tramp o’er it again,
                Have you as partner in holiday dance—
           10   We’ve moiled as one in the gray smoke;
                Cast down by the Naulu, you thirst.
                For once the house warms at your coming.
                How clear glow the heights of yon Haupu!
                I long for the sight of Ka-ala,
           15   And sweet is the thought of Lihu’e,
                And our mountain retreat, Hale-mano.
                Here, fenced from each other by tabu,
                Your graces make sport for the crowd.
                What then the solution? Let us dwell
           20   At Waimea and feast on the fish
                That swarm in the neighboring sea,
                With freedom to you and freedom to me,
                Licensed by Ku and by Ahu-éna.
[Page 243]
           The scene of this idyl is laid in the district of Waialua,
           Oahu, but the poet gives his imagination free range
           regardless of the unities. The chief subjects of interest
           that serve as a trellis about which the human sentiments
           entwine concern the duties of the fisherman, who is also a
           farmer; the school for the hula, in which the hero and the
           heroine are pupils; and lastly an ideal condition of
           happiness which the lovers look forward to tinder the
           benevolent dispensation of the gods Ku and Ahuena.

           Among the numerous relatives of Pele was one said to be a
           sister, who was stationed on a bleak sun-burnt promontory in
           Koolau, Oahu, where she supported a half-starved existence,
           striving to hold soul and body together by gathering the
           herbs of the fields, eked out by unsolicited gifts of food
           contributed by passing travelers. The pathetic plaint given
           below is ascribed to this goddess.


                Mao wale i ka lani
                Ka leo o ke Akua pololi.
                A pololi a moe au
                O ku’u la pololi,
            5   A ola i kou aloha;
                I na’i pu no i ka waimaka e uwe nei.
                E uwe kaua, e!



                Engulfed ill heaven’s abyss
                Is the cry of the famished god.
                I sank to the ground from faintness,
                My day of utter starvation;
            5   Was rescued, revived, by your love:
                Ours a contest of tears sympathetic—
                Let us pour out together our tears.

           The Hawaiian thought it not undignified to express sympathy
           (_aloha-ino_) with tears.
[Page 244]

                           XXXVI.—THE HULA HOO-NA-NÁ

           The hula _hoo-na-ná_—to quiet, amuse—was an informal dance,
           such as was performed without the usual restrictions of tabu
           that hedged about the set dances of the halau. The occasion
           of an outdoor festival, an _ahaaina_ or _luau_, was made the
           opportunity for the exhibition of this dance. It seems to
           have been an expression of pure sportiveness and
           mirth-making, and was therefore performed without sacrifice
           or religious ceremony. While the king, chiefs, and
           _aialo_—courtiers who ate in the king’s presence—are
           sitting with the guests about the festal board, two or three
           dancers of graceful carriage make a circuit of the place,
           ambling, capering, gesturing as they go in time to the words
           of a gay song.

           A performance of this sort was witnessed by the author’s
           informant in Honolulu many years ago; the occasion was the
           giving of a royal luau. There was no musical instrument, the
           performers were men, and the mele they cantillated went as

                A pili, a pili,
                A pili ka’u manu
                Ke kepau[485] o ka ulu-laau.
                Poai a puni,
           5    Noho ana i muli-wa’a;[486]
                Hoonu’u ka momona a ke alii.
                Eli-eli[487] ke kapu; ua noa.
                Noa ia wai?
                Noa ia ka lani.
           10   Kau lilua,[488] kaohi ka maku’u
                E ai ana ka ai a ke alii!
                Hoonu’u, hoonu’u hoonu’u
                I ka i’a a ke alii!

           [Footnote 485: _Kepáu._ Gum, the bird-lime of the fowler,
           which was obtained from forest trees, but especially from the
           _ulu_, the breadfruit.]

           [Footnote 486: _Muli-wa’a_ (_muli_, a term applied to a younger
           brother). The idea involved is that of separation by an
           interval, as a younger brother is separated from his older
           brother by an interval. _Muliwai_ is an interval of water, a
           stream. _Wa’a_, the last part of the above compound word,
           literally a canoe, is here used tropically to mean the
           tables, or the dishes, on which the food was spread, they
           being long and narrow, in the shape of a canoe. The whole
           term, consequently, refers to the people and the table about
           which they are seated.]

           [Footnote 487: _Eli-eli._ A word that is found in ancient
           prayers to emphasize the word _kapu_ or the word _noa_.]

           [Footnote 488: _Lilua_. To stand erect and act without the
           restraint usually prescribed in the presence of royalty.]

[Page 245]


                      She is limed, she is limed,
                      My bird is limed,
                      With the gum of the forest.
                      We make a great circuit,
                 5    Outskirting the feast.
                      You shall feast on king’s bounty:
                      No fear of the tabu, all’s free.
                      Free! and By whom?
                      Free by the word of the king.
                10    Then a free rein to mirth!
                      Banish the kill-joy
                      Who eats the king’s dainties!
                      Feast then till replete
                      With the good king’s meat!
[Page 246]

                           XXXVII.—THE HULA ULILI

           The hula _ulili_, also called by the descriptive name
           _kolili_—to wave or flutter, as a pennant—was a hula that
           was not at all times confined to the tabu restrictions of the
           halau. Like a truant schoolboy, it delighted to break loose
           from restraint and join the informal pleasurings of the
           people. Imagine an assembly of men and women in the
           picturesque illumination given by flaring kukui torches, the
           men on one side, the women on the other. Husbands and wives,
           smothering the jealousy instinctive to the human heart, are
           there by mutual consent—their daughters they leave at
           home—each one ready to play his part to the finish, with no
           thought of future recrimination. It was a game of
           love-forfeits, on the same lines as kilu and ume.

           Two men, armed with wands furnished with tufts of gay
           feathers, pass up and down the files of men and women, waving
           their decorated staffs, ever and anon indicating with a touch
           of the wand persons of the opposite sex, who under the rules
           must pay the forfeit demanded of them. The kissing, of
           course, goes by favor. The wand-bearers, as they move along,
           troll an amorous ditty:


                      Kii na ka ipo * * *
                      Mahele-hele i ka la o Kona![489]
                      O Kona, kai a ke Akua.[490]
                      Elua la, huli ka Wai-opua,[491]
                 5    Nehe i ke kula,
                      Leha iluna o Wai-aloha[492]
                      Kani ka aka a ka ua i ka laau,
                      Hoolaau ana i ke aloha ilaila.
                      Pili la, a pili i ka’u manu—
                10    O pili o ka La-hiki-ola.
                      Ola ke kini o-lalo.
                      Hana i ka mea he ipo.
                      A hui e hui la!
                      Hui Koolau-wahine[493] o Pua-ke-i![494]

           [Footnote 489: _La o Kona_. A day of Kona, i.e., of fine

           [Footnote 490: _Kai a ke Akua_. Sea of the gods, because calm.]

           [Footnote 491: _Wai-opua_. A wind which changed its direction
           after blowing for a few days from one quarter.]

           [Footnote 492: _Wai-aloha_. The name of a hill. In the
           translation the author has followed its meaning (“water of

           [Footnote 493: _Koolau-wahine_. The name of a refreshing wind,
           often mentioned in Hawaiian poetry; here used as a symbol of
           female affection.]

           [Footnote 494: _Pua-ke-i_. The name of a sharp, bracing wind
           felt on the windward side of Molokai; used here apparently as
           a symbol of strong masculine passion.]

[Page 247]



                A search for a sweetheart...
                Sport for a Kona day!
                Kona, calm sea of the gods.
                Two days the wind surges;
            5   Then, magic of cloud!
                It veers to the plain,
                Drinks up the water of love.
                How gleesome the sound
                Of rain on the trees,
           10   A balm to love’s wound!
                The wand touches, heart-ease!
                It touches my bird—
                Touch of life from the sun!
                Brings health to the million.
           15   Ho, now comes the fun!
                A meeting, a union—
                The nymph, Koo-lau,
                And the hero, Ke-í.
[Page 248]

                            XXXVIII.—THE HULA O-NIU

           The so-called hula _o-niu_ is not to be classed with the
           regular dances of the halau. It was rather a popular sport,
           in which men and women capered about in an informal dance
           while the players engaged in a competitive game of
           top-spinning: The instrument of sport was made from the lower
           pointed half of an oval coconut shell, or from the
           corresponding part of a small gourd. The sport was conducted
           in the presence of a mixed gathering of people amid the
           enthusiasm and boisterous effervescence which betting always
           greatly stimulated in Hawaii.

           The players were divided into two sides of equal number, and
           each player had before him a plank, slightly hollowed in the
           center—like the board on which the Hawaiians pounded their
           poi—to be used as the bed for spinning his top. The naked
           hand, unaided by whip or string, was used to impart to the
           rude top a spinning motion and at the same time the necessary
           projectile force—a balancing of forces that called for nice
           adjustment, lest the whirling thing reel too far to one side
           or run wild and fly its smooth bed. Victory was declared and
           the wager given to the player whose top spun the longest.

           The feature that most interests us is the singing, or
           cantillation, of the oli. In a dance and game of this sort,
           which the author’s informant witnessed at Kahuku, Oahu, in
           1844, one contestant on each side, in turn, cantillated an
           oli during the performance of the game and the dance.


                Ke pohá, nei; u’ína la!
                Kani óle-oléi, hau-walaau!
                Ke wawa Pu’u-hina-hina;[495]
                Kani ka aka, he-hene na pali,
            5   Na pali o Ka-iwi-ku’i.[496]
                Hanohano, makana i ka Wai-opua.[497]
                Malihini ka hale, ua hiki mai;
                Kani ka pahu a Lohiau,
                A Lohiau-ipo[498] i Haena la.
           10   Enaena ke aloha, ke hiki mai;
[Page 249]      Auau i ka wai a Kanaloa.[499]
                Nana kaua ia Lima-huli,[500] e.
                E huli oe a loaa pono
                Ka ia nei o-niu.

           [Footnote 495: _Pu’u-hina-hina_. A precipitous place on the
           coast near Haena.]

           [Footnote 496: _Ka-iwi-ku’i_. A high cliff against which the
           waves dash.]

           [Footnote 497: _Wai-opua_. The name of a pleasant breeze.]

           [Footnote 498: _Lohiau-ipo_. The epithet _ipo_, sweetheart,
           dear one, was often affixed to the name of Lohiau, in token,
           no doubt, of his being distinguished as the object of Pele’s
           passionate regard.]

           [Footnote 499: _Kanaloa_. There is a deep basin, of clear
           water, almost fluorescent in its sparkle, in one of the
           arched caves of Haena, which is called the water of
           Kanaloa—the name of the great God. This is a favorite
           bathing place.]

           [Footnote 500: Lima-huli. The name of a beautiful valley that
           lies back of Haena.]



                      The rustle and hum of spinning top,
                      Wild laughter and babel of sound—
                      Hear the roar of the waves at Pu’u-hina!
                      Bursts of derision echoed from cliffs,
                 5    The cliffs of Ka-iwi-ku’i;
                      And the day is stirred by a breeze.
                      The house swarms with women and men.
                      List! the drum-beat of Lohiau,
                      Lohiau, the lover, prince of Haena—
                10    Love glows like an oven at his coming;
                      Then to bathe in the lake of the God.
                      Let us look at the vale Lima-huli, look!
                      Now turn we and study the spinning—
                      That trick we must catch to be winning.

           This fragment from antiquity, as the local coloring
           indicates, finds its setting at Haena, the home of the famous
           mythological Prince Lohiau, of whom Pele became enamored in
           her spirit journey. Study of the mele suggests the occasion
           to have been the feast that was given in celebration of
           Lohiau’s restoration to life and health through the
           persevering incantations of Hiiaka, Pele’s beloved sister.
           The feast was also Lohiau’s farewell to his friends at Haena.
           At its conclusion Hiiaka started with her charge on the
           journey which ended with the tragic death of Lohiau at the
           brink of the volcano. Pele in her jealousy poured out her
           fire and consumed the man whom she had loved.
[Page 250]

                               XXXIX.—THE HULA KU’I

           The account of the Hawaiian hulas would be incomplete if
           without mention of the hula _ku’i_. This was an invention, or
           introduction, of the last quarter of the nineteenth century.
           Its formal, public, appearance dates from the coronation
           ceremonies of the late King Kalakaua, 1883, when it filled an
           important place in the programme. Of the 262 hula
           performances listed for exhibition, some 30 were of the hula
           ku’i. This is perhaps the most democratic of the hulas, and
           from the date of its introduction it sprang at once into
           public favor. Not many years ago one could witness its
           extemporaneous performance by nonprofessionals at many an
           entertainment and festive gathering. Even the
           school-children took it up and might frequently be seen
           innocently footing its measures on the streets. (Pl. XXIV.)

           The steps and motions of the hula ku’i to the eyes of the
           author resemble those of some Spanish dances. The rhythm is
           in common, or double, time. One observes the following

           _Figure A_.—1. A step obliquely forward with the left foot,
           arms pointing the same way, body inclining to the right. 2.
           The ball of the left foot (still advanced) gently pressed on
           the floor; the heel swings back and forth, describing an arc
           of some 30 or 40 degrees. 8. The left foot is set firmly in
           the last position, the body inclining to it as the base of
           support; the right foot is advanced obliquely, and 4,
           performs the heel-swinging motions above described, arms
           pointing obliquely to the right.

           _Figure B_.—Hands pressed to the waist, fingers directed
           forward, thumbs backward, elbows well away from the body;
           left foot advanced as in figure A, 1, body inclining to the
           right. 2. The left foot performs the heel-waving motions, as
           above. 3. Hands in same position, right foot advanced as
           previously described. 4. The right foot performs the swinging
           motions previously described—the body inclined to the left.

           _Figure C_.—In this figure, while the hands are pressed as
           before against the waist, with the elbows thrown well away
           from the body, the performer sways the pelvis and central
           axis of the trunk in a circular or elliptical orbit, a
           movement, which, carried to the extreme, is termed ami.

           There are other figures and modifications, which the
           ingenuity and fancy of performers have introduced into this
           dance; but this account must suffice.


[Page 251]
           Given a demand for a _pas seul_, some pleasing dance
           combining grace with dexterity, a shake of the foot, a twist
           of the body, and a wave of the hands, the hula ku’i filled
           the bill to perfection. The very fact that it belonged by
           name to the genus hula, giving it, as it were, the smack of
           forbidden fruit, only added to its attractiveness. It became
           all the rage among dancing folk, attaining such a vogue as
           almost to cause a panic among the tribunes and censors of
           society. Even to one who cares nothing for the hula per se,
           save as it might be a spectacle out of old Hawaii, or a
           setting for an old-time song, the innocent grace and
           Delsartian flexibility of this solo dance, which one can not
           find in its Keltic or African congeners, associate it in mind
           with the joy and light-heartedness of man’s Arcadian period.

           The instruments generally used in the musical accompaniment
           of the hula ku’i are the guitar, the _uku-lele_,[501] the
           taro-patch fiddle,[501] or the mandolin; the piano also lends
           itself effectively for this purpose; or a combination of
           these may be used.

           The songs that are sung to this dance as a rule belong
           naturally to later productions of the Hawaiian muse, or to
           modifications of old poetical compositions. The following
           mele was originally a namesong (mele-inoa). It was
           appropriated by the late Princess Kino-iki; and by her it was
           passed on to Kalani-ana-ole, a fact which should not
           prejudice our appreciation of its beauty.


                      I aloha i ke ko a ka wai,
                      I ka i mai, e, anu kaua.
                      Ua anu na pua o ka laina,[502]
                      Ka wahine noho anu o ke kula.
                 5    A luna au a o Poli-ahu;[503]
                      Ahu wale kai a o Wai-lua.
                      Lua-ole ka hana a ka makani,
                      A ke Kiu-ke’e[504] a o na pali,
                      Pa iho i ke kai a o Puna—
                10    Ko Puna mea ma’a mau ia.
                      Pau ai ko’u lihi hoihoi
                      I ka wai awili me ke kai.
                      Ke ono hou nei ku’u pu’u
                      I ka wai hu’ihu’i o ka uka,
[Page 252]       15   Wai hone i ke kumu o ka pali,
                      I malu i ka lau kui-kui.[505]
                      Ke kuhi nei au a he pono
                      Ka ilima lei a ke aloha,
                      Au i kau nui aku ai,
                 20   I ka nani oi a oia pua.

           [Footnote 501: The _uku-lele_ and the _taro-patch fiddle_ are
           stringed instruments resembling in general appearance the
           fiddle. They seem to have been introduced into these islands
           by the Portuguese immigrants who have come in within the last
           twenty-five years. As with the guitar, the four strings of
           the uku-lele or the five strings of the taro-patch fiddle are
           plucked with the finger or thumb.]

           [Footnote 502: _Na pua o ka laina_. The intent of this
           expression, which seems to have an erotic meaning, may
           perhaps be inferred from its literal rendering in the
           translation. It requires a tropical imagination to follow a
           Hawaiian poem.]

           [Footnote 503: _Poli-ahu_. A place or region on Mauna-kea.]

           [Footnote 504: _Kiu-ke’e_. The name of a wind felt at
           Nawiliwili, Kauai. The local names for winds differed on the
           various islands and were multiplied almost without measure:
           as given in the mythical story of Kama-pua’a, or in the
           semihistoric tale of Kú-a-Paka’a, they taxed the memories of

           [Footnote 505: _Kui-kui._ The older name-form of the tree
           (Aleurites triloba), popularly known by some as the
           candle-nut tree, from the fact that its oily nuts were used
           in making torches. _Kukui_, or _tutui_, is the name now
           applied to the tree, also to a torch or lamp. The Samoan
           language still retains the archaic name _tuitui_. This is one
           of the few instances in which the original etymology of a
           word is retained in Hawaiian poetry.]



                How pleasing, when borne by the tide,
                One says, you and I are a-cold.
                The buds of the center are chilled
                Of the woman who shivers on shore.
            5   I stood on the height Poli-ahu;
                The ocean enrobed Wai-lua.
                Ah, strange are the pranks of the wind,
                The Kiu-ké’e wind of the pali!
                It smites now the ocean at Puna—
           10   That’s always the fashion at Puna.
                Gone, gone is the last of my love,
                At this mixture of brine in my drink!
                My mouth is a-thirst for a draught
                Of the cold mountain-water,
           15   That plays at the foot of the cliff,
                In the shade of the kui-kui tree.
                I thought our love-flower, ilima—
                Oft worn as a garland by you—
                Still held its color most true.
           20   You’d exchange its beauty for rue!


                Kaulana mai nei Pua Lanakila;
                Olali oe o ke aupuni hui,
                Nana i koké áku ke kahua,
                Na ale o ka Pakipika.
            5   Lilo i mea ole na enemi;
                Puuwai hao-kila, he manao paa;
                Na ka nupepa la i hoike mai.
                Ua kau Lanakila i ka hanohano,
                O ka u’i mapela la o Aina-hau;
           10   O ko’u hoa ia la e pili ai—
                I hoa kaaua i ka puuwai,
                I na kohi kelekele i ka Pu’ukolu.
                Ina ilaila Pua Komela,
                Ka u’i kaulana o Aina-pua!
           15   O ka pua o ka Lehua me ka Ilima
                I lei kahiko no ko’u kino,
                Ka Palai lau-lii me ka Maile,
                Ke ala e hoene i kou poli.
[Page 253]



                Fame trumpets your conquests each day,
                Brave Lily Victoria!
                Your scepter finds new hearts to sway,
                Subdues the Pacific’s wild waves,
            5   Your foes are left stranded ashore,
                Firm heart as of steel!
                Dame Rumor tells us with glee
                Your fortunes wax evermore,
                Beauty of Aina-hau,
           10   Comrade dear to my heart.
                And what of the hyacinth maid,
                Nymph of the Flowery Land?
                I choose the lehua, ilima,
                As my wreath and emblem of love,
           15   The small-leafed fern and the maile—
                What fragrance exhales from thy breast!

           The story that might explain this modern lyric belongs to the
           gossip of half a century ago. The action hinges about one who
           is styled Pua Lanakila—literally Flower of Victory. Now
           there is no flower, indigenous or imported, known by this
           name to the Hawaiians. It is an allegorical invention of the
           poet. A study of the name and of its interpretation, Victory,
           at once suggested to me the probability that it was meant for
           the Princess Victoria Kamamalu.

           As I interpret the story, the lover seems at first to be in a
           condition of unstable equilibrium, but finally concludes to
           cleave to the flowers of the soil, the _lehua_ and the
           _ilima_ (verse 15), the _palai_ and the _maile_ (verse 17),
           the meaning of which is clear.
[Page 254]

                                   XL.—THE OLI

           The Hawaiian word _mele_ included all forms of poetical
           composition. The fact that the mele, in whatever form, was
           intended for cantillation, or some sort of rhythmical
           utterance addressed to the ear, has given to this word in
           modern times a special meaning that covers the idea of song
           or of singing, thus making it overlap ambiguously into the
           territory that more properly belongs to the word _oli_. The
           oli was in strict sense the lyric utterance of the Hawaiians.

           In its most familiar form the Hawaiians—many of whom
           possessed the gift of improvisation in a remarkable
           degree—used the oli not only for the songful expression of
           joy and affection, but as the vehicle of humorous or
           sarcastic narrative in the entertainment of their comrades.
           The traveler, as he trudged along under his swaying burden,
           or as he rested by the wayside, would solace himself and his
           companions with a pensive improvisation in the form of an
           oli. Or, sitting about the camp-fire of an evening, without
           the consolation of the social pipe or bowl, the people of the
           olden time would keep warm the fire of good-fellowship and
           cheer by the sing-song chanting of the oli, in which the
           extemporaneous bard recounted the events of the day and won
           the laughter and applause of his audience by witty, ofttimes
           exaggerated, allusions to many a humorous incident that had
           marked the journey. If a traveler, not knowing the language
           of the country, noticed his Hawaiian guide and
           baggage-carriers indulging in mirth while listening to an oli
           by one of their number, he would probably be right in
           suspecting himself to be the innocent butt of their

           The lover poured into the ears of his mistress his gentle
           fancies: the mother stilled her child with some bizarre
           allegory as she rocked it in her arms; the bard favored by
           royalty—the poet laureate—amused the idle moments of his
           chief with some witty improvisation; the alii himself, gifted
           with the poetic fire, would air his humor or his didactic
           comments in rhythmic shape—all in the form of the oli.

           The dividing line, then, between the oli and those other
           weightier forms of the mele, the _inoa_, the _kanikau_
           (threnody), the _pule_, and that unnamed variety of mele in
           which the poet dealt with historic or mythologic subjects, is
           to be found almost wholly in the mood of the singer. In
           truth, the Hawaiians not unfrequently applied the term pule
           to compositions which we moderns find it hard to bring within
           our definitions of prayer. For to our understanding the
           Hawaiian pule often contains neither petition, nor entreaty,
           nor aspiration, as we measure such things.
[Page 255]
           The oli from, its very name (_oli-oli_, joyful) conveys the
           notion of gladness, and therefore of song. It does not often
           run to such length as the more formal varieties of the mele;
           it is more likely to be pitched to the key of lyric and
           unconventional delight, and, as it seems to the writer, more
           often than other forms attains a gratifying unity by reason
           of closer adherence to some central thought or mood; albeit,
           when not so labeled, one might well be at a loss whether in
           any given case he should term the composition mele or oli.

           It may not be entirely without significance that the first
           and second examples here given come from Kauai, the island
           which most vividly has retained a memory of the southern
           lands that were the homes of the people until they came as
           emigrants to Hawaii.

           The story on which this song is founded relates that the
           comely Pamaho’a was so fond of her husband during his life
           that at his death she was unwilling to part with his bones.
           Having cleaned and wrapped them in a bundle, she carried them
           with her wherever she went. In the indiscretion begotten of
           her ill-balanced state of mind she committed the mortal
           offense of entering the royal residence while thus
           encumbered, where was Kaahumanu, favorite wife of Kamehameha
           I. The king detailed two constables (_ilamuku_) to remove the
           woman and put her to death. When they had reached a safe
           distance, moved with pity, the men said: “Our orders were to
           slay; but what hinders you to escape?” The woman took the
           hint and fled hot-foot.


                Ka wai opua-makani o Wailua,[506]
                I hulihia e ke kai;
                Awahia ka lau hau,
                Ai pála-ka-há, ka ai o Maká’u-kiu.
            5   He kiu ka pua kukui,
                He elele hooholo na ke Koolau;[507]
                Ke kipaku mai la i ka wa’a—[508]
                “E holo oe!”
                Holo newa ka lau maia me ka pua hau,
           10   I pili aloha me ka mokila ula i ka wai;
                Maalo pulelo i ka wai o Malu-aka.
                He aka kaua makani kaili-hoa;
                Kaili ino ka lau Malua-kele,
                Lalau, hopu hewa i ka hoa kanáka;[509]
[Page 256] 15   Koe a kau me ka manao iloko.
                Ke apo wale la no i ke one,
                I ka uwe wale iho no i Mo’o-mo’o-iki,[510] e!
                He ike moolelo na ke kuhi wale,
                Aole ma ka waha mai o kánaka,
           20   Hewa, pono ai la hoi au, e ka hoa;
                Nou ka ke aloha,
                I lua-ai-ele[511] ai i-o, i anei;
                Ua kuewa i ke ala me ka wai-maka.
                Aohe wa, ua uku i kou hale—
           25   Hewa au, e!

           [Footnote 506: The scene is laid in the region about the
           _Wailua_, a river on Kauai. This stream, tossed with waves
           driven up from the sea, represents figuratively the
           disturbance of the woman’s mind at the coming of the

           [Footnote 507: _Koolau_. The name of a wind; stands for the
           messengers of the king, whose instructions were to expel
           (_kipaku_, verse 7) and then to slay.]

           [Footnote 508: _Wa’a_. Literally canoe; stands for the woman

           [Footnote 509: _Hoa kanáka_. Human companion; is an allusion to
           the bundle of her husband’s bones which she carries with her,
           but which are torn away and lost in the flood.]

           [Footnote 510: _Mo’o-mo’o-iki_. A land at Wailua, Kauai.]

           [Footnote 511: _Lua-ai-ele_. To carry about with one a sorrow.]



                The wind-beaten stream of Wailua
                Is tossed into waves from the sea;
                Salt-drenched are the leaves of the hau,
                The stalks of the taro all rotted—
            5   ’Twas the crop of Maka’u-kiu,
                The flowers of kukui are a telltale,
                A messenger sped by the gale
                To warn the canoe to depart.
                Pray you depart!
           10   Hot-foot, she’s off with her pack—
                A bundle red-stained with the mud—
                And ghost-swift she breasts Malu-aka.
                Quest follows like smoke—lost is her companion;
                Fierce the wind plucks at the leaves,
           15   Grabs—by mistake—her burden, the man.
                Despairing, she falls to the earth,
                And, hugging the hillock of sand,
                Sobs out her soul on the beach Mo-mo-iki.
                A tale this wrung from my heart,
           20   Not told by the tongue of man.
                Wrong! yet right, was I, my friend;
                My love after all was for you,
                While I lived a vagabond life there and here,
                Sowing my vagrom tears in all roads—
           25   Prompt my payment of debt to your house—
                Yes, truly, I’m wrong!
[Page 257]

                          XLI.—THE WATER OF KANE

           If one were asked what, to the English-speaking mind,
           constitutes the most representative romantico-mystical
           aspiration that has been embodied in song and story,
           doubtless he would be compelled to answer the legend and myth
           of the Holy Grail. To the Hawaiian mind the aspiration and
           conception that most nearly approximates to this is that
           embodied in the words placed at the head of this chapter, The
           Water of Kane. One finds suggestions and hints of this
           conception in many passages of Hawaiian song and story,
           sometimes a phosphorescent flash, answering to the dip of the
           poet’s blade, sometimes crystallized into a set form; but
           nowhere else than in the following mele have I found this
           jewel deliberately wrought into shape, faceted, and fixed in
           a distinct form of speech.

           This mele comes from Kauai, the island which more than any
           other of the Hawaiian group retains a tight hold on the
           mystical and imaginative features that mark the mythology of
           Polynesia; the island also which less than any other of the
           group was dazzled by the glamour of royalty and enslaved by
           the theory of the divine birth of kings.

                  _He Mele no Kane_

                He ú-i, he ninau:
                He ú-i aku ana au ia oe,
                Aia i-héa ka wai a Kane?
                Ala i ka hikina a ka La,
            5   Puka i Hae-hae;[512]
                Aia i-laila ka Wai a Kane.

                E ú-i aku ana au ia oe,
                Aia i-hea ka Wai a Kane?
                Aia i Kau-lana-ka-la,[513]
           10   I ka pae opua i ke kai,[514]
                Ea mai ana ma Nihoa,[515]
[Page 258]      Ma ka mole mai o Lehua;
                Aia i-laila ka Wai a Kane.

                E ú-i aku ana au ia oe,
           15   Aia i-hea ka Wai a Kane?
                Aia i ke kua-hiwi, i ke kua-lono,
                I ke awáwa, i ke kaha-wai;
                Aia i-laila ka Wai a Kane.

                E ú-i aku ana au ia oe,
           20   Aia i-hea ka Wai a Kane?
                Aia i-kai, i ka moana,
                I ke Kua-lau, i ke anuenue,
                I ka punohu,[516] i ka ua-koko,[517]
                I ka alewa-lewa;
           25   Aia i-laila ka Wai a Kane.

                E ú-i aku ana au ia oe,
                Aia i-hea ka Wai a Kane?
                Aia i-luna ka Wai a Kane,
                I ke ouli, i ke ao eleele,
           30   I ke ao pano-pano,
                I ke ao popolo-hua mea a Kane la, e!
                Aia i-laila ka Wai a Kane.

                E ú-i aku ana au ia oe,
                Aia i-hea ka Wai a Kane?
           35   Aia i-lalo, i ka honua, i ka Wai hu,
                I ka wai kau a Kane me Kanaloa—[518]
                He wai-puna, he wai e inu,
                He wai e mana, he wai e ola.
                E ola no, e-a!

           [Footnote 512: _Hae-hae_. Heaven’s eastern gate; the portal in
           the solid walls that supported the heavenly dome, through
           which the sun entered in the morning.]

           [Footnote 513: _Kau-lana-ka-la_. When the setting sun, perhaps
           by an optical illusion drawn out into a boatlike form,
           appeared to be floating on the surface of the ocean, the
           Hawaiians named the phenomenon _Kau-lana-ka-la_—the floating
           of the sun. Their fondness for personification showed itself
           in the final conversion of this phrase into something like a
           proper name, which they applied to the locality of the

           [Footnote 514: _Pae opua i ke kai_. Another instance of
           name-giving, applied to the bright clouds that seem to rest
           on the horizon, especially to the west.]

           [Footnote 515: _Nihoa_ (Bird island). This small rock to the
           northwest of Kauai, though far below the horizon, is here
           spoken of as if it were in sight.]

           [Footnote 516: _Punohu_ A red luminous cloud, or a halo,
           regarded as an omen portending some sacred and important

           [Footnote 517: _Ua-koko_. Literally bloody rain, a term applied
           to a rainbow when lying near the ground, or to a
           freshet-stream swollen with the red muddy water from the wash
           of the hillsides. These were important omens, claimed as
           marking the birth of tabu chiefs.]

           [Footnote 518: _Wai kau a Kane me Kanaloa_. Once when Kane and
           Kanaloa were journeying together Kanaloa complained of
           thirst. Kane thrust his staff into the pali near at hand, and
           out flowed a stream of pure water that has continued to the
           present day. The place is at Keanae, Maui.]


                 _The Water of Kane_

                A query, a question,
                I put to you:
                Where is the water of Kane?
                At the Eastern Gate
            5   Where the Sun comes in at Hae-hae;
                There is the water of Kane.

                A question I ask of you:
                Where is the water of Kane?
                Out there with the floating Sun,
[Page 259] 10   Where cloud-forms rest on Ocean’s breast,
                Uplifting their forms at Nihoa,
                This side the base of Lehua;
                There is the water of Kane.

                One question I put to you:
           15   Where is the water of Kane?
                Yonder on mountain peak,
                On the ridges steep,
                In the valleys deep,
                Where the rivers sweep;
           20   There is the water of Kane.

                This question I ask of you:
                Where, pray, is the water of Kane?
                Yonder, at sea, on the ocean,
                In the driving rain,
           25   In the heavenly bow,
                In the piled-up mist-wraith,
                In the blood-red rainfall,
                In the ghost-pale cloud-form;
                There is the water of Kane.

           30   One question I put to you:
                Where, where is the water of Kane?
                Up on high is the water of Kane,
                In the heavenly blue,
                In the black piled cloud,
           35   In the black-black cloud,
                In the black-mottled sacred cloud of the gods;
                There is the water of Kane.

                One question I ask of you:
                Where flows the water of Kane?
           10   Deep in the ground, in the gushing spring,
                In the ducts of Kane and Loa,
                A well-spring of water, to quaff,
                A water of magic power—
                The water of life!
           45   Life! O give us this life!
[Page 260]

                             XLII.—GENERAL REVIEW

           In this preliminary excursion into the wilderness of Hawaiian
           literature we have covered but a small part of the field; we
           have reached no definite boundaries; followed no stream to
           its fountain head; gained no high point of vantage, from
           which to survey the whole. It was indeed outside the purpose
           of this book to make a delimitation of the whole field of
           Hawaiian literature and to mark out its relations to the
           formulated thoughts of the world.

           Certain provisional conclusions, however, are clearly
           indicated: that this unwritten speech-literature is but a
           peninsula, a semidetached, outlying division of the
           Polynesian, with which it has much in common, the whole
           running back through the same lines of ancestry to the people
           of Asia. There still lurk in the subliminal consciousness of
           the race, as it were, vague memories of things that long ago
           passed from sight and knowledge. Such, for instance, was the
           _mo’o_; a word that to the Hawaiian meant a nondescript
           reptile, which his imagination vaguely pictured, sometimes as
           a dragonlike monster belching fire like a chimera of
           mythology, or swimming the ocean like a sea-serpent, or
           multiplied into a manifold pestilential swarm infesting the
           wilderness, conceived of as gifted with superhuman powers and
           always as the malignant foe of mankind. Now the only Hawaiian
           representatives of the reptilian class were two species of
           harmless lizards, so that it is not conceivable that the
           Hawaiian notion of a mo’o was derived from objects present in
           his island home. The word _mo’o_ may have been a coinage of
           the Hawaiian speechcenter, but the thing it stood for must
           have been an actual existence, like the python and cobra of
           India, or the pterodactyl of a past geologic period. May we
           not think of it as an ancestral memory, an impress, of
           Asiatic sights and experiences?

           In this connection, it will not, perhaps, lead us too far
           afield, to remark that in the Hawaiian speech we find the
           chisel-marks of Hindu and of Aryan scoring deep-graven. For
           instance, the Hawaiian, word _pali_, cliff or precipice, is
           the very word that Young-husband—following, no doubt, the
           native speech of the region, the Pamirs—applies to the
           mountain-walls that buttress off Tibet and the central
           plateaus of Asia from northern India. Again the Hawaiian word
           _mele_, which we have used so often in these chapters as to
           make it seem almost like a household word, corresponds in
           form, in sound, and in meaning to the Greek. [Greek: melos:
[Page 261] ta melê], lyric poetry (Liddell and Scott). Again, take the
           Hawaiian word _i’a_, fish—Maori, _ika_; Malay, _ikan_; Java,
           _iwa_; Bouton, _ikani_ (Edward Tregear: The Maori-Polynesian
           Comparative Dictionary). Do not these words form a chain that
           links the Hawaiian form to the [Greek: ichthus] of classic
           Greece? The subject is fascinating, but it would soon lead us
           astray. These examples must suffice.

           If we can not give a full account of the tangled woodland of
           Hawaiian literature, it is something to be able to report on
           its fruits and the manner of men and beasts that dwelt
           therein. Are its fruits good for food, or does the land we
           have explored bring forth only poisonous reptiles and the
           deadly upas? Is it a land in which the very principles of art
           and of human nature are turned upside down? Its language the
           babble of Bander-log?

           This excursion into the jungle of Hawaiian literature should
           at least impress us with the oneness of humanity; that its
           roots and springs of action, and ours, draw their sustenance
           from one and the same primeval mold; that, however far back
           one may travel, he will never come to a point where he can
           say this is “common or unclean;” so that he may without
           defilement “kill and eat” of what the jungle provides. The
           wonder is that they in Hawaii of the centuries past, shut off
           by vast spaces of sea and land from our world, yet
           accomplished so much.

           Test the ancient Hawaiians by our own weights and measures.
           The result will not be to their discredit. In practical
           science, in domestic arts, in religion, in morals, in the raw
           material of literature, even in the finished article—though
           unwritten—the showing would not be such as to give the
           superior race cause for self-gratulation.

           Another lesson—a corollary to the above—is the debt of
           recognition we owe to the virtues and essential qualities of
           untutored human nature itself. Imagine a portion of our own
           race cut off from the thought-currents of the great world and
           stranded on the island-specks of the great ocean, as the
           Polynesians have been for a period of centuries that would
           count back to the times of William the Conqueror or
           Charlemagne, with only such outfit of the world’s goods as
           might survive a 3,000–mile voyage in frail canoes, reenforced
           by such flotsam of the world’s metallic stores as the tides
           of ocean might chance to bring them—and, with such limited
           capital to start with in life, what, should we judge, would
           have been the outcome of the experiment in religion, in
           morals, in art, in mechanics, in civilization, or in the
           production of materials for literature, as compared with what
           the white man found in Hawaii at its discovery in the last
           quarter of the eighteenth century?

           It were well to come to the study of primitive and savage
           people, of nature-folk, with a mind purged of the
           thanks-to-the-goodness-and-the-grace spirit.
[Page 262]
           It will not do for us to brush aside contemptuously the
           notions held by the Hawaiians in religion, cosmogony, and
           mythology as mere heathen superstitions. If they were
           heathen, there was nothing else for them to be. But even the
           heathen can claim the right to be judged by their deeds, not
           by their creeds. Measured by this standard, the average
           heathen would not make a bad showing in comparison with the
           average denizen of Christian lands. As to beliefs, how much
           more defensible were the superstitions of our own race two or
           three centuries ago, or of to-day, than those of the
           Hawaiians? How much less absurd and illogical were our
           notions of cosmogony, of natural history; how much less
           beneficent, humane, lovable the theology of the pagan
           Hawaiians than of our Christian ancestors a few centuries ago
           if looked at from an ethical or practical point of view. At
           the worst, the Hawaiian sacrificed the enemy he took in
           battle on the altar of his gods; the Christian put to death
           with exquisite torture those who disagreed with him in points
           of doctrine. And when it comes to morals, have not the
           heathen time and again demonstrated their ability to give
           lessons in self-restraint to their Christian invaders?

           It is a matter of no small importance in the rating of a
           people to take account of their disposition toward nature. If
           there has been a failure to appreciate truly the mental
           attitude of the “savage,” and especially of the Polynesian
           savage, the Hawaiian, toward the book of truth that was open
           to him in nature, it is always in order to correct it. That
           such a mistake has been made needs no further proof than the
           perusal of the following passage in a book entitled “History
           of the Sandwich Islands:”

              To the heathen the book of nature is a sealed book. Where
              the word of God is not, the works of God fail either to
              excite admiration or to impart instruction. The Sandwich
              Islands present some of the sublimest scenery on earth,
              but to an ignorant native—to the great mass of the people
              in entire heathenism—it has no meaning. As one crested
              billow after another of the heaving ocean rolls in and
              dashes upon the unyielding rocks of an iron-bound coast,
              which seems to say, “Hitherto shalt thou come and no
              farther,” the low-minded heathen is merely thinking of the
              shellfish on the shore. As he looks up to the everlasting
              mountains, girt with clouds and capped with snow, he
              betrays no emotion. As he climbs a towering cliff, looks
              down a yawning precipice, or abroad upon a forest of deep
              ravines, immense rocks, and spiral mountains thrown
              together in the utmost wildness and confusion by the might
              of God’s volcanoes, he is only thinking of some roots in
              the wilderness that may be good for food.

           There is hardly a poem in this volume that does not show the
           utter falsity of this view. The writer of the words quoted
           above, now in his grave for more than sixty years, was a man
           for whose purity and moral character one must entertain the
           highest esteem. He enjoyed the very best opportunity to study
           the minds of the “heathen” about him, to discern their
[Page 263] thoughts, to learn at first hand their emotions toward the
           natural world, whether of admiration, awe, reverence, or
           whether their attitude was that of blank indifference and
           absorption in selfish things. But he utterly failed to
           penetrate the mystery, the “truth and poetry,” of the
           Hawaiian mind and heart. Was it because he was tied to a
           false theology and a false theory of human nature? We are not
           called upon to answer this question. Let others say what was
           wrong in his standpoint. The object of this book is not
           controversial; but when a palpable injustice has been done,
           and is persisted in by people of the purest motives, as to
           the thoughts, emotions, and mental operations of the
           “savage,” and as to the finer workings within that constitute
           the furniture and sanctuary of heart and soul, it is
           imperative to correct so grave a mistake; and we may be sure
           that he whose words have just been quoted, were he living
           to-day, would acknowledge his error.

           Though it is not the purpose of these pages to set forth in
           order a treatise on the human nature of the “savage,” or to
           make unneeded apology for the primitive and uncultured races
           of mankind in general, or for the Hawaiian in particular, yet
           it is no small satisfaction to be able to set in array
           evidence from the life and thoughts of the savages themselves
           that shall at least have a modifying influence upon our views
           on these points.

           The poetry of ancient Hawaii evinces a deep and genuine love
           of nature, and a minute, affectionate, and untiring
           observation of her moods, which it would be hard to find
           surpassed in any literature. Her poets never tired of
           depicting nature; sometimes, indeed, their art seems
           heaven-born. The mystery, beauty, and magnificence of the
           island world appealed profoundly to their souls; in them the
           ancient Hawaiian found the image of man the embodiment of
           Deity; and their myriad moods and phases were for him an
           inexhaustible spring of joy, refreshment, and delight.


The study of Hawaiian pronunciation is mainly a study of vowel sounds
and of accent. Each written vowel represents at least two related

A (_ah_) has the Italian sound found in f_a_ther, as in h_a_-le or in
L_a_-ka; also a short sound like that of a in li_a_ble, as in
ke-_a_-ke-_a_, to contradict, or in _a_-ha, an assembly.

E (_a_) has the sound of long a in f_a_te, or of e in pr_e_y, without
the i-glide that follows, as in the first syllable of P_é_-le, or of
m_é_-a, a thing; also the short sound of e in n_e_t, as in _é_-ha, hurt,
or in p_é_a, a sail.

I (_ee_) has the long sound of i in p_i_que, or in pol_i_ce, as in
_i_-li, skin, or in h_í_-la-h_í_-la, shame; also the short sound of i in
h_i_ll, as in l_í_-hi, border, and in _í_-ki, small.

O (_oh_) has the long sound of o in n_o_te or in _o_ld, without the
u-glide, as in l_ó_-a, long, or as in the first syllable of L_ó_-no;
also a short sound, which approximates to that sometimes erroneously
given to the vowel in c_o_at, as in p_ó_-po, rotten, or as in l_ó_-ko, a

U (_oo_) has the long sound of u in r_u_le, as in h_ú_-la, to dance; and
a short sound approximating to that of u in f_u_ll, as in m_ú_-ku, cut

Every Hawaiian syllable ends in a vowel. No attempt has been made to
indicate these differences of vowel sound. The only diacritical marks
here employed are the acute accent for stressed syllables and the
apostrophe between two vowels to indicate the glottic closure or
interruption of sound (improperly sometimes called a guttural) that
prevents the two from coalescing.

In the seven diphthongs _ae_, _ai_, _ao_, _au_, _ei_, _ia_, and _ua_ a
delicate ear will not fail to detect a coalescence of at least two
sounds, thus proving them not to be mere digraphs.

In animated description or pathetic narrative, or in the effort to
convey the idea of length, or height, or depth, or immensity, the
Hawaiian had a way of prolonging the vowel sounds of a word, as if by so
doing he could intimate the amplitude of his thought.

The letter w (_way_) represents two sounds, corresponding to our w and
our v. At the beginning of a word it has the sound of w (_way_),
retaining this even when the word has become compounded. This is
illustrated in _Wái_-a-lú-a (geographical name), and _w_á-ha mouth. In
the middle of a word, or after the first syllable, it almost always has
the sound of v (_vay_), as in hé-_w_a (wrong), and in E-_w_á
(geographical name). In há-_w_a-_w_á (awkward), the compound word
ha-_w_ái (water-pipe), and several others the w takes the _way_ sound.

The great majority of Hawaiian words are accented on the penult, and in
simple words of four or more syllables there is, as a rule, an accent on
the fourth and on the sixth syllables, counting back from the final
syllable, as in lá-na-kí-la (victorious) and as in hó-o-kó-lo-kó-lo (to
try at law).

_Aha_, (á-ha)—a braided cord of sinet; an assembly; a prayer or
religious service (note a, p. 20).

_Ahaaina_ (á-ha-ái-na)—a feast.

_Ai_ (ai, as in aisle)—vegetable food; to eat; an event in a game or
contest (p. 93).

_Ai-á-lo_ (to eat in the presence of)—the persons privileged to eat at
an alii’s table.

_Aiha’a_ (ai-ha’a):—a strained, bombastic, guttural tone of voice in
reciting a mele, in contrast to the style termed _ko’i-honua_ (pp. 89,

_Ailolo_ (ai-ló-lo=to eat brains)—a critical, ceremonial sacrifice, the
conditions of which must be met before a novitiate can be admitted as a
practitioner of the hula as well as of other skilled professions (pp.
15, 31, 34).

_Aina_ (aí-na)—the land; a meal (of food).

_Alii_ (a-li’i)—a chief; a person of rank; a king.

_Aloha_ (a-ló-ha)—goodwill; affection; love; a word of salutation.

_Ami_ (á-mi)—to bend; a bodily motion used in the hula (note, p. 202).

_Anuenue_ (a-nú-e-nú-e)—a rainbow; a waterfall in Hilo (p. 61, verse

_Ao_ (á-o)—dawn; daytime; the world; a cloud (p. 196, verse 7).

_Aumakua_ (aú-ma-kú-a)—an ancestral god (p. 23).

_Awa_ (á-va)—bitter; sour; the soporific root of the Piper methysticum
(p. 130).

_Ekaha_ (e-káha)—the nidus fern, by the Hawaiians sometimes called _ka
hoe a Mawi_, Mawi’s paddle, from the shape of its leaves (p. 19).

_Haena_ (Ha-é-na)—a village on the windward coast of Kauai, the home of
Lohiau, for whom Pele conceived a passion in her dreams (p. 186).

_Hala_ (há-la)—a sin; a variety of the “screw-pine” (Pandanus
odoratissimus, Hillebrand). Its drupe was used in decoration, its leaves
were braided into mats, hats, bags, etc.

_Halapepe_ (há-la-pé-pe)—a tree used in decorating the kuahu (Dracæna
aurea, Hillebrand) (p. 24).

_Halau_ (ha-láu—made of leaves)—a canoe-shed; a hall consecrated to
the hula; a sort of school of manual arts or the art of combat (p. 14).

_Hale_ (há-le)—a house.

_Hanai-kuahu_ (ha-nái-ku-á-hu—altarfeeder)—the daily renewal of the
offerings laid on the kuahu; the officer who performed this work (p.

_Hanohano_ (há-no-há-no)—having dignity and wealth.

_Hau_ (how)—a tree whose light, tough wood, strong fibrous bark, and
mucilaginous flowers have many uses (Hibiscus tiliaceus).

_Haumea_ (Hau-mé-a)—a mythological character, the same as Papa (note c,
p. 126).

_Heiau_ (hei-aú)—a temple.

_Hiiaka_, (Hi’i-á-ka)—the youngest sister of Pele (p. 186).

_Hilo_ (Hí-lo)—to twist as in making string; the first day in the month
when the new moon appears; a town and district in Hawaii (pp. 60, 61).

_Holoku_ (hó-lo-kú)—a loose gown resembling a “Mother Hubbard,” much
worn by the women of Hawaii.

_Hoonoa_ (ho’o-nó-a)—to remove a tabu; to make ceremonially free (p.

_Hooulu_ (ho’o-ú-lu)—to cause to grow; to inspire. (Verse 3, Pule
Kuahu, p. 20, and verse 1, Pule Kuahu, p. 21.)

_Hoopaa_ (ho’o-pá’a)—the members of a hula company who, as
instrumentalists, remained stationary, not moving in the dance (p. 28).

_Huikala_ (hú-i-ká-la)—to cleanse ceremonially; to pardon (p. 15).

_Hula_, (hú-la), or int. _húlahúla_—to dance, to make sport, to the
accompaniment of music and song.

_I’a_ (i’a)—fish; a general term for animal food or whatever relish
serves for the time in its place.

_Ieie_ (í-e-í-e)—a tall woody climber found in the wild woods, much
used in decoration (Freycinetia arnotti, p. 19).

_Ilamuka_ (í-la-mú-ku)—a constable.

_Ilima_ (i-lí-ma)—a woody shrub (Sida fallax, Hillebrand) whose
chrome-yellow flowers were much used in making wreaths (p. 56).

_Ilio_ (i-lí-o)—a dog; a variety of hula (p. 223).

_Imu_ (í-mu), sometimes _umu_ (ú-mu)—a native oven, made by lining a
hole in the ground and arching it over with stones (verse 3, Oli Paú, p.

_Inoa_ (i-nó-a)—a name. (See Mele inoa.)

_Ipo_ (í-po)—a lover; a sweetheart.

_Ipoipo_ (í-po-í-po), _hoipo_ (ho-í-po), or _hoipoipo_ (ho-í-po-í-po)—to
make love; to play the lover; sexual dalliance.

_Ipu_ (í-pu)—a general name for the Cucurbitaceæ, and the dishes made
from them, as well as dishes of coconut shell, wood, and stone; the
drumlike musical instrument made from joining two calabashes (p. 73).

_Iwa_ (í-wa, pr. í-va)—the number nine; a large black sea-bird,
probably a gull (p. 76).

_Kahiki_ (Ka-hí-ki)—Tahiti; any foreign country (p. 17).

_Kahiko_ (ka-hí-ko)—ancient; to array; to adorn.

_Kahuna_ (ka-hú-na)—a priest; a skilled craftsman. Every sort of kahuna
was at bottom and in some regard a priest, his special department being
indicated by a qualifying word, as _kahuna anaana_, sorcerer, _kahuna
kalai wa’a_, canoe-maker.

_Kai_ (pr. kye)—the ocean; salty. _I-kai_, to the ocean; _ma-kai_, at
the ocean.

_Kakaolelo_ (ka-ká-o-lé-lo)—one skilled in language; a rhetorician; a
councilor (p. 98).

_Kamapua’a_ (Ká-ma-pu-a’a)—literally the hog-child; the mythological
swine-god, whose story is connected with that of Pele (p. 231).

_Kanaka_, (ka-ná-ka)—a man; a commoner as opposed to the alii. _Kanaka_
(ká-na-ka), men in general; the human race. (Notice the different

_Kanaenae_ (ká-nae-naé)—a propitiatory sacrifice; an intercession; a
part of a prayer (pp. 16, 20).

_Kanaloa_ (Ká-na-ló-a)—one of the four major gods, represented as of a
dark complexion, and of a malignant disposition (p. 24).

_Kane_ (Ká-ne)—male; a husband; one of the four major gods, represented
as being a tall blond and of a benevolent disposition (p. 24).

_Kapa_ (ká-pa)—the paper-cloth of the Polynesians, made from the
fibrous bark of many plants by pounding with wooden beaters while kept

_Kapo_ (Ká-po)—a goddess and patron of the hula, sister of the
poison-god, Kalai-pahoa, and said to be mother of Laka (pp. 25, 45).

_Kapu_ (ká-pu).—a tabu; a religious prohibition (pp. 30, 57).

_Kau_ (Ka-ú)—“the milk;” a district on the island of Hawaii.

_Kawele_ (ka-wé-le)—a manner of cantillating in a distinct and natural
tone of voice; about the same as _ko’i-honua_ (p. 58).

_Kihei_ (ki-héi)—a robe of kapa worn after the fashion of the Roman

_Kii_ (ki’i)—to fetch, to go after a thing; an image, a picture, a
marionette; a variety of the hula (p. 91).

_Kilauea_ (Ki-lau-é-a)—the great active volcano of Hawaii.

_Kini_ (kí-ni)—the number 40,000; a countless number. _Kini Akua_, a
host of active, often mischievous, “little” folk in human form that
peopled the deep woods. They resembled our elves and brownies, and were
esteemed as having godlike powers (p. 21, note; p. 24).

_Kilu_ (kí-lu)—a dish made by cutting off obliquely the top of a
coconut or small gourd, which was used as a sort of top in the game and
dance called _kilu_. (Hula kilu, p. 235.)

_Ko_—sugar-cane; performed, accomplished. With the causative prefix
_ho’o_, as in _ho’oko_ (ho’o-kó), to accomplish, to carry to success (p.

_Ko’i_ (kó’i)—an ax, an adz; originally a stone implement. (See mele
beginning _Ko’i maka nui_, p. 228.)

_Ko’i honua_ (ko’i ho-nú-a)—a compound of the causative _ko_, _i_, to
utter, and _honua_, the earth; to recite or cantillate in a quiet
distinct tone, in distinction from the stilted bombastic manner termed
ai-ha’a (p. 58).

_Kokua-kumu_, (ko-kú-a-kú-mu)—the assistant or deputy who took charge
of the halau in the absence of the _kumu-hula_, (p. 29).

_Kolea_ (ko-lé-a)—the plover; the name of a hula (p. 219).

_Kolohe_ (ko-ló-he)—mischievous; restless; lawless (note d, p. 194).

_Kona_, (Kóna)—a southerly wind or storm; a district on the leeward
side of many of the islands.

_Koolau_ (Ko’o-láu)—leaf-compeller; the windward side of an island; the
name of a wind. (_A Koolau wau, ike i ka ua_, verse 1, p. 59.)

_Ku_—to stand; to rise up; to fit; a division of land; one of the four
major gods who had many functions, such as Ku-pulupulu, Ku-mokuhalii,
Ku-kaili-moku, etc. (Mele, _Ku e, nana e!_ p. 223.)

_Kuahu_ (ku-á-hu)—an altar; a rustic stand constructed in the halau in
honor of the hula gods (p. 15).

_Kuhai-moana_ (Ku-hái-mo-á-na)—a shark-god (pp. 76, 77).

_Ku’i_ (ku’i)—to smite; to beat; the name of a hula (p. 250).

_Kukui_ (ku-kú-i)—a tree (Aleurites moluccana) from the nuts of which
were made torches; a torch. (_Mahana lua na kukui a Lanikaula_, p. 130,
note c.)

_Kumu-hula_ (kú-mu húla)—a teacher and leader of the hula.

_Kupee_ (ku-pe’e)—a bracelet; an anklet (Mele Kupe’e, p. 49.)

_Kupua_ (ku-pú-a)—a superhuman being; a wonder-worker; a wizard.

_Ku-pulupulu_ (Kú-pú-lu-pú-lú)—Ku the hairy; one of the forms of god
Ku, propitiated by canoe-makers and hula folk (p. 24).

_Laa_ (Lá’a)—consecrated; holy; devoted.

_Laa-mai-Kahiki_—A prince who flourished some six or seven centuries
ago and voyaged to Kahiki and back. He was an ardent patron of the hula
(p. 103).

_Lama_ (lá-ma)—a torch; a beautiful tree (Maba sandwicensis,
Hillebrand) having fine-grained whitish wood that was much used for
sacred purposes (p. 23).

_Lanai_ (la-nái)—a shed or veranda; an open part of a house covered
only by a roof.

_Lanai_ (La-na’i)—the small island lying southwest of Maui.

_Lani_ (lá-ni)—the sky; the heaven or the heavens; a prince or king;
heaven-born (pp. 81, 82).

_Lehua_, (le-hú-a)—a forest tree (Metrosideros polymorpha) whose
beautiful scarlet or salmon-colored flowers were much used in decoration
(Pule Hoo-noa, p. 126).

_Lei_ (lei: both vowels are sounded, the _i_ slightly)—a wreath of
flowers, of leaves, feathers, beads, or shells (p. 56).

_Liloa_ (Li-ló-a)—an ancient king of Hawaii, the father of Umi (p.

_Lohiau_ (Ló-hi-áu)—the prince of Haena, with whom Pele became enamored
in her dreams (p. 186).

_Lolo_ (ló-lo)—the brain (p. 34).

_Lono_ (Ló-no)—one of the four major gods of Hawaii (p. 24).

_Luau_ (lu-aú)—greens made by cooking young taro leaves; in modern times
a term applied to a Hawaiian feast.

_Mahele_ (ma-hé-le)—to divide; a division of a mele; a canto; a part of
a song-service (p. 58).

_Mahiole_ (má-hi-ó-le)—a helmet or war-cap, a style of hair-cutting in
imitation of the same (p. 91).

_Mahuna_ (ma-hú-na)—a small particle; a fine scale; a variety of
delicate kapa; the desquamation of the skin resulting from habitual

_Makalii_ (Má-ka-li’i)—small eyes; small, fine; the Pleiades (p. 216
and note on p. 218).

_Malo_ (má-lo)—a loin-cloth worn especially by men. (Verses 3, 4, 5, 6
of mele on p. 36).

_Mano_ (ma-nó)—a shark; a variety of hula (p. 221).

_Mauna_ (máu-na)—a mountain. A word possibly of Spanish origin.

_Mele_ (mé-le)—a poem; a song; to chant; to sing.

_Mele inoa_—a name-song; a eulogy (pp. 27, 37).

_Mele kahea_ (ka-héa = to call)—a password by which one gained
admission to the halau (pp. 38, 41).

_Moo_ (mó’o)—a reptile; a dragon; a mythologic monster (p. 260).

_Muumuu_ (mu’u-mu’u)—an under garment worn by women; a shift; a
chemise; a person maimed of hand or foot; the name of a hula (p. 212).

_Naulu_ (náu-lu)—name of the seabreeze at Waimea, Kauai. _Ua naulu_ = a
heavy local rain (pp. 110, 112).

_Noa_ (nó-a)—ceremonially free; unrestrained by tabu (p. 126).

_Noni_ (no-ni)—a dye-plant (Morinda citrifolia) whose fruit was
sometimes eaten.

_Nuuanu_ (Nu’u-á-nu) a valley back of Honolulu that leads to the “Pali.”

_Ohe_ (ó-he)—bamboo; a flute; a variety of the hula (pp. 135, 145).

_Ohelo_ (o-hé-lo)—an edible berry that grows at high altitudes; to
reach out; to stretch; a variety of the hula (p. 233).

_Ohia_ (o-hi’a)—a name in some places applied to the _lehua_ (q. v.),
more generally the name of a fruit tree, the “mountain apple” (Eugenia

_Olapa_ (o-lá-pa)—those members of a hula company who moved in the
dance, as distinguished from the _hoopaa_, q. v., who sat and
cantillated or played on some instrument (p. 28).

_Oli_ (ó-li)—a song; a lyric; to sing or chant (p. 254).


_Olohe_ (o-ló-he)—an expert in the hula; one who has passed the
_ailolo_ test and has also had much experience (p. 32).

_Oo_ (o-ó)—a spade; an agricultural implement, patterned after the
whale spade (p. 85); a blackbird, one of those that furnished the
golden-yellow feathers for the _ahuula_, or feather cloak.

_Paepae_ (pae-páe)—a prop; a support; the assistant to the _po’o-pua’a_
(p. 29).

_Pahu_ (pá-hu)—a box; a drum; a landmark; to thrust, said of a spear
(pp. 103, 138).

_Pale_ (pá-le)—a division; a canto of a mele; a division of the song
service in a hula performance (pp. 58, 89).

_Pali_ (pá-li)—a precipice; a mountain wall cut up with steep ravines.
(Mele on pp. 51–53, verses 4, 5, 8, 16, 17, 27, 49.)

_Papa_ (pá-pa)—a board; the plane of the earth’s surface; a
mythological character, the wife of Wakea.

_Pa-u_ (pa-ú)—a skirt; a garment worn by women reaching from the waist
to about the knees (p. 50). The dress of the hula performer (p. 49), Oli
Pa-ú (p. 51).

_Pele_ (Pé-le)—the goddess of the volcano and of volcanoes generally,
who held court at the crater of Kilauea, on Hawaii; a variety of the
hula (p. 186).

_Pikai_ (pi-kái)—to asperse with seawater mixed, perhaps, with
turmeric, etc., as in ceremonial cleansing (p. 31).

_Poo-puaa_ (po’o-pu-a’a)—Boar’s head; the one selected by the pupils in
a school of the hula to be their agent and mouthpiece (p. 29).

_Pua’a_ (pu-a’a)—a pig; the name of a hula (p. 228).

_Puka_ (pú-ka)—a hole, a doorway, to pass through.

_Pule_ (pú-le)—a prayer; an incantation; to pray.

_Pulou_ (pu-lo’u)—to muffle; to cover the head and face (p. 31).

_Puniu_ (pu-ní-u)—a coconut shell; a small drum made from the coconut
shell (p. 141); a derisive epithet for the human headpiece.

_Ti_, or _ki_—a plant (Dracæna terminalis) that has large smooth green
leaves used for wrapping food and in decoration. Its fleshy root becomes
syrupy when cooked (p. 44).

_Uka_ (ú-ka)—landward or mountainward.

_Uku-lele_ (ú-ku-lé-le)—a flea; a sort of guitar introduced by the

_Uniki_ (u-ní-ki)—the début or the first public performance of a hula
actor. (Verse 21 of mele on p. 17.)

_Waa_ (wá’a)—a canoe.

_Wahine_ (wa-hí-ne)—a female; a woman; a wife.


_Waialeale_ (Wai-á-le-á-le)—billowy water; the central mountain on the
island of Kauai (p. 106).


[NOTE.—All Hawaiian words, as such (except catch words), are

    AALA KUPUKUPU: _mele kupe’e_                                   49

    A EULOGY for the princess: song for the _hula ku’i Molokai_   209

    A HAMAKUA AU: _mele_ for the _hula kaekeeke_                  122

    A HILO _au, e_: _mele_ for the _hula pa’i-umauma_             203

    AIA I _Wai-pi’o Paka’alana_: old _mele_ set to music VIII     162

    AI-HA’A, a style of recitation                                 58

    AILOLO OFFERING, at graduation from the school of the _halau_  32
      eating of          34
      inspection of      33

    A KAUAI, _a ke olewa iluna_: _mele_ for the _hula Pele_       189

    A KE KUAHIWI: a _kanaenae_ to Laka                             16

    A KOA’E-KEA: _mele_ for the _hula ala’a-papa_                  67

    A KOOLAU WAU: _mele_ for the _hula ala’a-papa_                 59

    A LALO _maua o Waipi’o_: _mele_ for the _hula íliíli_         120

    ALAS, alas, maimed are my hands! lament of Mana-mana-ia-kaluea

    ALAS, I am seized by the shark: song for the _hula manó_      222

    ALAS, there’s no stay to the smoke! song for the _hula Pele_  195

    ALOHA _na hale o makou: mele komo_, welcome to the _halau_     39

    ALOHA _wale oe_: song with music IX                           164

      at _ailolo_ inspection: Laka sits in her shady grove    34
      at _ailolo_ service: O goddess Laka!                    34
      in prose speech: _E ola ia’u, i ka malihini_            46
      Invoke we now the four thousand                         22
      Thou art Laka                                           42
      to Kane and Kapo: Now Kane, approach                    45
      to Laka: Here am I, O Laka from the mountains           20
      to Laka: This my wish                                   43
      to Laka: This spoil and rape of the wildwood            19

    ALTAR, visible abode of the deity                              15

    A MACKEREL SKY, time for foul weather: song for the _hula
        ala’a-papa_                                                70

    AMI, not a motion of lewd intent                              210

    AMUSEMENTS in Hawaii communal                                  13

    ANKLET SONG: Fragrant the grasses                              49

    AOLE AU E HELE _ka li’u-la o Maná_: _mele_ for the _hula pa-ipu_

    AOLE E MAO _ka ohu_: _mele_ for the _hula Pele_               195

    AOLE I MANAO IA: _mele_ for the _hula úli-ulí_                108

    A PILI, _a pili_: _mele_ for the _hula hoonaná_               244

    A PIT LIES (far) to the East: song for the _hula pa-ipu_       86

    A PLOVER at the full of the sea: song for the _hula kolea_    220

    A PUA _ka wiliwili_: a bit of folk-lore (note)                221

    A PUNA AU: _mele_ for the _hula pahu_                         104

    A SEARCH for a sweetheart: song for the _hula ulili_          247

    ASPERSION in ceremonial purification                           15

    ASSONANCE by word-repetition                                  227

    A STORM from the sea: song for the _hula pa-ipu_               78

    AT HILO I rendezvoused with the _lehua_: song for the _hula
      pa’i-umauma_                                                203

    ATTITUDE of the Hawaiian toward—
      nature                           262
      song                             159
      the gods                         225

    AT WAILUA stands the main house-post: song for the _hula Pele_

    AUHEA _wale oe, e ka Makani Inu-wai_? _mele_ for the _hula
      úli-ulí_                                                     110

    AUWE, _auwe, mo’ ku’u lima_! lament of Mana-mana-ia-kaluea     212

    AUWE, _pau au i ka manó nui, e_! _mele_ for the _hula manó_    221

    A ÚWEUWÉ _ke ko’e a ke kae_: _mele oli_ in the game of _kilu_  240

    AWA DEBAUCH of Kane                                            131

    AWILIWILI _i ka hale o ka lauwili, e_: a proverbial saying
      (note)                                                        53

    AX OF BROADEST EDGE I’m hight: song for the _hula pua’a_       230

    BAMBOO RATTLE, the _puili_                                     144

    BEDECK now the board for the feast: song-prayer for the
      _hula Pele_                                                  200

    BEGOTTEN were the gods of graded rank: song of cosmology
      (note)                                                       196

    BEHOLD KAUNÁ, that sprite of windy Ka-ú: song for the
      _hula Pele_                                                  193

    BIG WITH CHILD is the princess Ku: song for the _hula pa-ipu_   81

    BIT OF FOLK-LORE: _A pua ka wiliwili_ (note)                   221
      When flowers the _wiliwili_ (note)                           221

    BLACK CRABS are climbing: song for the _hula mu’umu’u_         214

    BLOOM OF LEHUA on altar piled: prayer to remove tabu at
      intermission                                                 127

    BLOW, BLOW, thou wind of Hilo! old sea song (note)              65

    BURST OF SMOKE from the pit: song for the _hula pa-ipu_         89

    CADENCE IN MUSIC                                               140

    CALABASH HULAS                                                 102

    CALL TO THE MAN to come in: song of welcome to the _halau_      41

    CASTANETS                                                      147

    CEREMONIAL CLEANSING in the _halau_                             30

    CIPHER SPEECH                                                   97

    CLOTHING OR COVERING, illustrated by gesture                   178

    COCONUT DRUM, _puniu_                                          141

    COME NOW, MANONO: song for the _hula pa’i-umauma_              204

    COME UP to the wildwood, come: song for the _hula ohe_         136

    COMRADE MINE in the robe-stripping gusts of Lalau: song for
      the _hula kilu_                                              241

    CONVENTIONAL GESTURES                                     180, 182

    COSTUME of the _hula_ dancer                                    49

    COURT OF THE ALII the recruiting ground for _hula_ performers   27

    CULTS of the _hula_ folk—were there two?                       47

    DANCE, a premeditated affair in Hawaii                          13

    DAVID MALO, _hulas_ mentioned by                               107

    DEATH, represented by gesture                                  178

    DÉBUT of a _hula_ performer                                     35

    DÉBUT-SONG of a _hula_ performer: _Ka nalu nui, a ku ka nalu
      mai Kona_                                                     35

    DECORATIONS of the _kuahu_—the choice limited                  19

    DISMISSING PRAYER at intermission: Doomed sacrifice I          129

    DISPENSATION granted to pupils before graduation from the
      _halau_                                                       33

    DIVISIONS of _mele_ recitation in the _hula_                    58

    DOOMED SACRIFICE I: dismissing prayer at intermission          129

    DRESSING SONG of _hula_ girls: _Ku ka punohu ula_               55

      description of                     140
      introduced by La’a-mai-Kahiki      141

    DRUM HULA, the                                                 103

    E ALA, _e Kahiki-ku_: _mele_ for the _hula Pele_               196

    E HEA _i ke kanáka e komo maloko (mele komo)_: welcome to
      the _halau_                                                   41

    E HOOPONO _ka hele_: _mele_ apropos of Nihi-aumoe               94

    E HOOULU _ana i Kini o ke Akua_: altar-prayer                   21

    EIA KE KUKO, _ka li’a_: altar-prayer, to Laka                   43

    EI’AU, _e Laka mai uka_: altar-prayer                           20

    E IHO _ana oluna_: oracular utterance of Kapihe                 99

    E KAUKAU _i hale manu, e_: _mele_ for the _hula ki’i_           99

    E LAKA, E! _mele kuahu_ at _aiolo_ service                      34

    E LE’E KAUKAU: _mele_ for the hula _ki’i_                       98

    ELEELE KAUKAU: _mele_ for the _hula ki’i_                       97

      his description of the “_hura ka-raau_”      116
      his remarks about the “_hura araapapa_”       71

    ELOCUTION and rhythmic accent in Hawaiian song                 158

    E MANONO _la, ea_: _mele_ for the _hula pa’i-umauma_           204

    ENGULFED in heaven’s abyss: song for the _hula kilu_           243

    E OE MAUNA _i ka ohu_: _mele_ for the _hula Pele_              194

    E OLA IA’U, _i ka malihini_: altar-prayer, in prose speech      46

    E PI’I _ka nahele_: _mele_ for the _hula ohe_                 135

    E PI’I _ka-wai ka nahele_: _mele_ for the _hula niau-kani_      133

    EPITHALAMIUM, _mele_ for the _hula ki’i: O Wanahili ka po loa
      ia Manu’a_                                                   100

    E ULU, _e ulu_: altar-prayer to the _Kini Akua_                 46

    EWA’S LAGOON is red with dirt: song for the _hula pa-ipu_       84

    E WEWEHI, _ke, ke_! _mele_ for the _hula ki’i_                  94

    FABLE, Hawaiian love of                                        111

    FACIAL EXPRESSION                                              179

    FAME TRUMPETS your conquests each day: song for the
      _hula ku’i_                                                  253

    FEET AND LEGS in gesture                                       181

    FISH-TREE, _Maka-léi_ (note)                                    17

    FLOWERS acceptable for decoration                               19

    FLUCTUATING UTTERANCE in song, _i’i_                           158

    FOLK-LORE, application of the term                             114

    FOREIGN INFLUENCE on Hawaiian music                       138, 163

    FRAGRANT THE GRASSES of high Kane-hoa: anklet song              49

    FROM KAHIKI came the woman, Pele: song for the _hula Pele_     188

      song for the _hula ala’a-papa_      64
      with music VII                     157

    GAME OF KILU                                                   235

    GAME OF NA-Ú (note)                                            118

    GENERAL REVIEW                                                 260

      illustrating an obstacle                            177
      illustrating movement                               178
      influenced by convention                            180
      inviting to come in                                 179
      mimetic                                             178
      representing a plain                                178
      representing clothing or covering                   178
      representing death                                  178
      representing union or similarity                    178
      taught by the _kumu-hula_                           176
      with feet and legs                                  181

    GIRD ON THE PA-Ú: tiring song                                   54

    GLOSSARY                                                       266

    GLOWING is Kahiki, oh! song for the _hula pa-ipu_               75

      of health, Mauli-ola (note)                    198
      of mirage, Lima-loa (note)                      79

    GODS, attitude of the Hawaiian toward the                      225

    GODS of the _hula_                                              23

    GOURD DRUM, _ipu-hula_                                         142

    GOURD-RATTLE, _úli-ulí_                                        144

    GRADUATION from the _halau_—
      _ailolo_ sacrament                                   32, 34
      ceremonies of                                        31
      tabu-lifting prayer: Oh wildwood bouquet, oh Laka    32

    HAKI _pu o ka nahelehele_: altar-prayer to Laka                 18

    HAKU’I _ka uahi o ka lua: mele_ for the _hula pa-ipu_           88

      a school for the _hula_                              30
      ceremonies of graduation from                        31
      decorum required in                                  30
      description of                                       14
      its worship contrasted with that of the _heiau_      15
      passwords to                                         38
      purification of its site                             14
      rules of conduct while it is abuilding               15
      worship in                                           42

    HALAU HANALEI _i ka nini a ka ua_: an _oli_                    155

    HALE-MA’UMA’U (note)                                           229

    HALL for the _hula_. See _Halau_.

    HANALEI is a hall for the dance in the pouring rain: a song    155

    HANAU _ke apapa nu’u_: song of cosmology (note)                196

    HAUNT of white tropic bird: song for the _hula ala’a-papa_      67

    HAWAIIAN HARP, the _ukeké_                                     147

    HAWAIIAN love of fable                                         111

    HAWAIIAN MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS                                   138

    HAWAIIAN MUSIC displaced by foreign                            138

    HAWAIIAN SLANG                                                  98

      elocution and rhythmic accent          158
      characteristics                        170
      melody; rhythm                         171
      tone-intervals                         158

    HAWAIIAN SPEECH, music affected by peculiarities of           139

    HAWAII PONOI (national hymn) with music XIV                   172

    HAWAII’S VERY OWN: translation of national hymn               175

    HE ALA _kai olohia: mele_ for the _hula ku’i Molokai_         207

    HEAVEN MAGIC fetch a Hilo pour: song for the _hula
      ala’a-papa_                                                  66

    HE INOA _no ka Lani: mele_ for the _hula ku’i Molokai_        208

    HE INOA _no Kamehameha_: song set to music VIII               162

    HE LUA _i ka hikina: mele_ for the _hula pa-ipu_               85

    HERE AM I, O Laka from the mountains: altar-prayer to Laka     20

    HE UA LA, _he ua: mele_ for the _hula kolani_                 216

    HE Ú-I, _he ninau: mele_ for Kane                             257

      her bathing place                      190
      in a _kilu_ contest with Pele-ula      240
      See Gods of the _hula_.

    HIKI MAI, _hiki mai ka La, e! mele_ for the _hula puili_      114

    HI’U-O-LANI, _kii ka ua o Hilo: mele_ for the _hula
      ala’a-papa_                                                  65

    HOAEAE EXPLAINED                                              163

    HOE PUNA _i ka wa’a pololo a ka ino: mele_ for the _hula
      ala’a-papa_                                                  70

    HOINAINAU _mea ipo: mele_ for the _hula ala’a-papa_            71

    HOLE WAIMEA _i ka ihe a ka makani: mele_ for the _hula
      ala’a-papa_                                                  68

    HO! MOUNTAIN of vapor puffs: song for the _hula Pele_         194

    HOOLEHELEHE-KI’I                                               91

    HOOPA’A, a division of the _hula_ performers               28, 57

    HOOPONO OE, _he aina kai Waialua i ka hau: mele_ for
      _hula ala’a-papa_                                            60

    HOW PLEASED is the girl maimed of hand and foot: song
      of Hiiaka                                                   212

    HOW PLEASING, when borne by the tide: song for the
      _hula ku’i_                                                 252

    HUAHUA’I: song with music X: _He aloha wau ia oe_             166

      degeneration of                    14
      intermission of                   126
      support and organization           26

      a religious service            11, 57
      company—organization of           29
      dancer’s costume                   49
      democratic side of                 26
      remarks on, by Rev. W. Ellis       71

    HULA HOONANÁ, THE                                             244

    HULA ÍLI-ÍLI, THE                                             120

    HULA ILIO, THE                                                223

    HULA KAEKEEKE, THE                                            122

    HULA KA-LAAU                                                  116
      its novel performance on Kauai         118
      responsive chanting in                 116

    HULA KIELEI, THE                                              210

    HULA KI’I, THE                                                 91

    HULA KILU, THE                                                235

    HULA KOLANI, THE                                              216

    HULA KOLEA, THE                                               219

    HULA KOLILI, THE                                              246

    HULA KU’I MOLOKAI, THE                                        207

    HULA KU’I, THE                                                250

    HULA KUÓLO, THE                                                73

    HULA MANÓ, THE                                                221

    HULA MU’UMU’U, THE                                            212

    HULA NIAU-KANI, THE                                           132

    HULA OHELO, THE                                               233

    HULA OHE, THE                                                 135

    HULA O-NIU, THE                                               248

    HULA PA-HUA, THE                                              183

    HULA PAHU, THE                                                103

    HULA PA-IPU, THE                                               73

    HULA PA’I-UMAUMA, THE                                         202

    HULA PALÁNI, THE (note)                                       202

    HULA PELE, THE                                                186

    HULA PERFORMANCE, influenced by instrument of accompaniment   113

      classes                       28, 57
      début                             35
      physique                          57

    HULA PUA’A, THE                                                228

    HULA PUILI, THE                                                113

      calabash hulas                                 102
      David Malo’s list of                           107
      first hula                                       8
      gods of                                         23
      of varying dignity and rank                     57
      See also _Hula_ and names of various _hulas_.

    HULA SONGS—their source                                        58

    HULA ULILI, THE                                                246

    HULA ÚLI-ULÍ, THE                                              107

    “HURA KA RAAU,” description of, by Rev. William Ellis          116

    I ALOHA _i ke ko a ka wai: mele_ for the _hula ku’i_           251

    I AM SMITTEN with spear of Kane: song for the _hula pa-hua_    184

    IDYL, typical Hawaiian                                         217

      a fluctuating utterance in song         158
      its vowel repetition                    159

    I KAMA’AMA’A _la i ka pualei: mele pule_ for the _hula Pele_   199

    IKE IA KAUKINI: _mele_ to _Kaukini_ (note)                      51

    IKE IA KAUNÁ-WAHINE, _Makani Ka-u: mele_ for the _hula Pele_   193

    ILIÍLI, castanets                                              147

    ILL OMEN, words of, in _mele inoa_                              37

    IN PUNA WAS I: song for the _hula pahu_                        105

    INTERMISSION OF HULA                                           126

    IN THE UPLANDS, the darting flame-bird of La’a: password to
      the _halau_                                                   41

    INVITATION to come in, by gesture                              179

    INVOKE WE NOW the Four Thousand: altar-prayer                   22

    IN WAIPI’O stands Paka’alana: name-song of Kamehameha          163

    IPU HULA, gourd drum      58, 142
      treatment of, in _hula pa-ipu_ and in _hula ala’a-papa_       73

    I SPURN THE THOUGHT with disdain: song for the _hula úli-ulí_  109

    IT HAS COME, it has come: song for the _hula puili_            114

    IT WAS IN HAMAKUA: song for the _hula kaekeeke_                123

    I WILL NOT CHASE the mirage of Maná: song for the
      _hula pa-ipu_,                                                80

    KAEKEEKE, musical bamboo pipe,                                 143

    KAHEA _i ka mele_,                                              58

    KAHIKI-NUI, _auwahi ka makani: mele_ for the _hula kaekeeke_,  124

    KAHIKI-NUI, land of wind-driven smoke: song for the _hula
      kaekeeke_,                                                   125

    KAHIPA, _na waiu olewa: mele_ for the _hula pa’i-umauma_,      205

    KAHULI AKU, _kahuli mai: mele_ apropos of the tree-shell,      121

    KAKUA PA-Ú, _ahu na kiképa_: tiring song,                       51

    KALAKALAIHI, _kaha ka La ma ke kua o Lehua: mele_ for the
      _hula kilu_,                                                 238

    KALAKAUA, a great name: song for the _hula ka-laau_,           117

    KALALAU, _pali eku i ka makani: mele_ for the _hula ki’i_,     101

    KA-LIU-WA’A (note),                                            230

    KAMA-PUA’A, his relations with—
      Kapo,                                25
      Pele,                               231

    KA MAWAE: song and music XI,                                  167

    KAMEHAMEHA II, song composed by,                               69

    KA-MOHO-ALII (note),                                          229

    KANAENAE TO LAKA: _A ke kuahiwi, i ke kualono_,                16

    KANALOA. See Gods of the _hula_.

    KANALOA TINTS HEAVEN with a blush: song for the _hula kilu_,  242

    KA NALU NUI, _a ku ka nalu mai Kona_: name-song to Naihe,      35

    KANE, HIKI A’E, _he maláma ia luna_: altar-prayer to Kane
      and Kapo,                                                    44

    KANE is DRUNKEN with awa: song for interlude,                 130

    KANE’S AWA DEBAUCH,                                           131

    KANE. See Gods of the _hula_.

      parentage and relations to the _hula_,                       47
      relations with Kama-pua’a,                                   25
      See Gods of the _hula_.

    KAUAI, characteristics of its _hula_,                         119

    KAUHUA KU, _ka Lani, iloli ka moku: mele_ for the
      _hula pa-ipu_,                                               80

    KAU KA HA-É-A, _kau o ka hana wa ele: mele_ for the _hula
       ala’a-papa_,                                                69

    KA UKA HOLO-KIA _ahi-manu o La’a_: password to the _halau_,    41

    KAULANA _mai nei Pua Lanakila: mele_ for the _hula ku’i_,     252

    KAULA WEARS the ocean as a wreath: wreath-song,                56

    KAULA WREATHES her brow with the ocean: song of
      Mana-mana-ia-kaluea,                                        213

    KAU LILUA _i ke anu Wai-aleale: mele_ for the _hula pahu_,    105

    KAUÓ PU KA IWA _kala-pahe’e: mele_ for the _hula pa-ipu_,      76

    KA WAI _opua-makani o Wailua_: an _oli_,                      255

    KAWELO, a sorcerer who turned shark (note),                    79

    KEAAU is a long strip of wild wood: song for the
      _hula ala’a-papa_,                                           62

    KEAAU SHELTERS, Waiakea lies in the calm: song for the _hula
      ala’a-papa_,                                                 61

    KE AMO _la ke ko’i ke Akua la i uka: mele_ for the
      _hula Pele_,                                                190

      a name of many personalities (note),           74
      the red blush of dawn: old song (note),        74

    KE LEI MAI _la o Kaula i ke kai, e-e!_—
      _mele_ of Mana-mana-ia-kaluea,                212
      wreath-song,                                   56

    KE POHÁ NEI; _u’ína la: mele_ for the _hula o-niu_            248

    KI’I-KI’I                                                      91

    KI’I NA KA IPO: _mele_ for the _hula ulili_                   246

    KILELEI, THE HULA                                             210

    KILU, a game and a _hula_                                     235

    KILU-CONTEST of Hiiaka with Pele-ula                          240

    KING, CAPT. JAMES, on the music and dancing of the Hawaiians  149

    KING’S WASH-TUBS                                              116

    KINI AKUA, THE                                             24, 46

    KO’I-HONUA, a style of recitation                          58, 89

    KO’I MAKA NUI: _mele oli_ for the _hula pua’a_                228

    KOLEA KAI PIHA: _mele_ for the _hula kolea_                   219

    KONA KAI OPUA, _i kala i ka la’i: mele_ for the _hula
      ka-laau_                                                    117

    KUAHU-SERVICE, not a rigid liturgy                             21

    KUAHU, THE                                                 15, 32

    KU AKU LA KEAAÚ, _lele ka makani mawaho: mele_ for the
      _hula pa-ipu_                                                77

    KUA LOLOA _Keaáu i ka nahele: mele_ for the _hula ala’a-papa_  62

    KU, A MARIONETTE                                               91

    KU E, NANÁ E! _mele_ for the _hula ilio_                      223

    KU I WAILUA _ka pou hale: mele_ for the _hula Pale_           191

    KU KA MAKAIA _a ka huaka’i moe ípo_: dismissing prayer at
      intermission                                                129

    KU KA PUNOHU _ula i ka moana_: girl’s dressing song            55

    KUKULU O KAHIKI (note)                                         17

    KUMU-HULA, a position open to all                              15

    KUMUKAHI, myth (note)                                         197

    KUNIHI KA MAUNA _i ka la’i, e: mele kahea_, password to
      the _halau_                                                  40

    KU OE KO’U WAHI _ohelo nei la, auwe, auwe! mele_ for the
      _hula ohelo_                                                233

    KU PILIKI’I _Hanalei lehua, la: mele_ for the _hula kielei_   210

    KU-PULUPULU. See Gods of the _hula_.

    KU. See Gods of the _hula_.

    KU’U HOA MAI _ka makani kuehu kapa o Kalalau: mele_ for the
      _hula kilu_                                                 240

      his connection with the _hula pahu_        103
      introduces the drum, or _pahu hula_        141

    LAAU, a xylophone                                             144

      a block of wood her special symbol      20, 23
      adulatory prayer to                         18
      a friend of the Pele family                 24
      _aumakua_ of the _hula_                     23
      compared with the gods of classic Greece    24
      emanation origin                            48
      epithets and appellations of                24
      invoked as god of wildwood growths          24
      special god of the _hula_                   24
      versus Kapo                                 47
      wreathing her emblem                        34

    LAKA SITS in her shady grove: altar-prayer                     34

      Alas, alas, maimed are my hands!           212
      _Auwe, auwe, mo’ ku’u lima!_               212

    LAU LEHUA _punoni ula ke kai o Kona: mele_ for the _hula
      pa-ipu_                                                      75

    LEAF OF LEHUA and noni-tint, the Kona sea: song for the _hula
      pa-ipu_                                                      76

    LE’A WALE _hoi ka wahine lima-lima ole, wawae ole: mele_ of
      Hiiaka                                                      212

    LEHUA ILUNA: tabu-lifting prayer at intermission              126

    LELE MAHU’I-LANI _a luna_: a tiring song                       56

    LET’S WORSHIP NOW the bird-cage: song for the _hula ki’i_      99

    LIFT MAHU’I-LANI on high: tiring song                          56

    LIKE NO A LIKE: song with music XII                           168

    LIMA-LOA, god of mirage (note)                                 79

    LITERALISM IN TRANSLATION versus fidelity                      88

    LITURGY OF KUAHU not rigid                                     21

    LI’ULI’U ALOHA _ia’u mele kahea_: password to the _halau_      39

    LONG, LONG have I tarried with love: password to the _halau_   39

    LONO, cult of                                                  18
      See Gods of the _hula_.

    LOOK FORTH, GOD KU, look forth: song for the _hula ilio_      225

    LOOK NOW, WAIALUA, land clothed with ocean-mist: song for
      the _hula ala’a-papa_                                        60

    LOOK TO YOUR WAYS in upland Puna: song apropos of Nihi-aumoe   94

    LO, PELE’S THE GOD of my choice: song prayer for the
      _hula Pele_                                                 199

    LO, THE RAIN, the rain: song for the _hula kolani_            217

    LOVE FAIN COMPELS to greet thee: song, “Cold breast,” with
      music IX                                                    165

    LOVE IS AT PLAY in the grove: song for the _hula ala’a-papa_   71

    LOVE TOUSLED WAIMEA with shafts of the wind: song for the
      _hula ala’a-papa_                                            69

    LYRIC OR OLI: The wind-beaten stream of Wailua                256

    LYRIC UTTERANCE                                           254–256

    MAHELE OR PALE, divisions of a song                            58

    MAI KAHIKI _ka wahine, o Pele: mele_ for the _hula Pele_      187

    MAILE-LAU-LI’I                                                 91

    MAILE-PAKAHA                                                   91

    MAKA-KU                                                        91

    MAKA-LÉI, a mythical fish-tree (note)                          17

    MAKALI’I, the Pleiades (note)                                  17

    MALUA, fetch water of love: song for the _hula puili_         115

    MALUA, _ki’i wai ke aloha: mele_ for the _hula puili_         114

    MAO WALE _i ka lani: mele_ for the _hula kilu_                243

    MARIONETTE HULA                                                91

    MASKS NOT USED in the _halau_                                 179

    MAULI-OLA, god of health (note)                               198

      apropos of—
        Kahuli, the tree-shell: _Kahuli aku, kahuli mai_  121
        Keawe: _O Keawe ula-i-ka-lani_ (note)              74
        Nihi-aumoe: _E hoopono ka hele i ka uha o Puna_    94
          at début of _hula_ performer: _Ka nalu nui, a ku
          ka nalu mai Kona_                                35
      for interlude: _Ua ona o Kane i ka awa_             130
      for Kane: _He ú-i, he nináu_                        257
      for the—
        _hula ala’a-papa_—
          _A Koa’e-kea, i Pueo-hulu-nui_              67
          _A Koolau wau, ike i ka ua_                 59
          _Hi’u-o-lani, ki’i ka ua o Hilo_            65
          _Hoe Puna i ka wa’a polólo_                 70
          _Ho-ina-inau mea ipo i ka nahele_           71
          _Hole Waimea i ka ihe a ka makani_          68
          _Hoopono oe, he aina kai Waialua i ka hau_  60
          _Kau ka ha-é-a, kau o ka hana wa ele_       69
          _Kua loloa Keaau i ka nahele_               62
          _Noluna ka Hale-kai, no ka ma’a-lewa_       63
          _Pakú Kea-au, lulu Wai-akea_                60
          _hula hoonaná: A pili, a pili_             244
          _hula íliíli: A lalo maua o Waipi’o_       120
          _hula ilio: Ku e, naná e!_                 223
          _hula kaekeeke_—
          _A Hamakua au_                             122
          _Kahiki-nui, auwahi ka makani_             124
          _hula ka-laau_—
          _Kona kai opua i kala i ka la’i_           117
          _O Kalakaua, he inoa_                      117
        _hula kielei Ku piliki’i Hanalei-lehua, la_  210
          _hula ki’i_—
          _E kaukau i hale manu, e!_                  99
          _E le’e kaukau_                             98
          _Eleele kaukau_                             97
          _E Wewehi, ke, ke!_                         94
          _Kalalau, pali eku i ka makani_            101
          _Pikáka e, ka luna ke, ke!_                 96
        _hula kilu_—
          _Kálakálaíhi, kaha ka La ma ke kua o Lehua_   238
          _Ku’u hoa mai ka makani kuehu-kapa o Kalalau_ 240
          _Mao wale i ka lani_                          243
          _Pua ehu kamaléna ka uka o Kapa’a_            237
          _Ula Kala’e-loa i ka lepo a ka makani_        239
          _Ula ka lani ia Kanaloa_                      241
        _hula kolani: He wa la, he ua_                  216
        _hula kolea: Kolea kai piha_                    219
        _hula ku’i_—
          _I aloha i ke ko a ka wai_                    251
          _Kaulana mai nei Pua Lanakila_                252
        _hula ku’i Molokai_—
          _He ala kai olohia_                           207
          _He inoa no ka Lani_                          208
        _hula manó: Auwe! pau au i ka manó nui, e!_     221
        _hula mu’umu’u: Pi’i ana a-ama_                 213
        _hula niau-kani: E pi’i ka wai ka nahele_       133
        _hula ohe: E pi’ i ka nahele_                   135
        _hula ohelo: Ku oe ko’u wahi ohelo nei la, auwe, auwe!_  233
        _hula o-niu: Ke pohá nei, u’ína la!_            248
        _hula pahu_—
          _A Puna au, i Kuki’i au, i Ha’eha’e_          104
          _Kau lilua i ke anu Wai-aleale_               105
          _O Hilo oe, muliwai a ka ua i ka lani_        104
        _hula pa-hua: Pa au i ka ihe a Kane_            183
        _hula pa-ipu_—
          _Aole au e hele ka li’u-la o Maná_             79
          _Haku’i ka uahi o ka lua_                      88
          _He lua i lea hikina_                          85
          _Kauhua Ku, ka Lani, iloli ka moku_            80
          _Kauo pu ka iwa kala-pahe’e_                   76
          _Ku aku la Kea-aú, lele ka makani mawaho_      77
          _Lau lehua punoni ula ke kai o Kona_           75
          _O Ewa, aina kai ula i ka lepo_                84
          _Ooe no paha ia, e ka lau o ke aloha_          82
          _Wela Kahiki, e!_                              73
        _hula pa’i-umauma_—
          _A Hilo au, e, hoolulu ka lehua_              203
          _E Manono la, ea_                             204
          _Kahipa, na waiu olewa_                       205
        _hula Pele_—
          _A Kauai, a ke olewa iluna_                   189
          _Aole e mao ka ohu_                           195
          _E ala, e Kahiki-ku_                          196
          _E oe mauna i ka ohu_                         194
          _I kama’ama’a la i ka pua-lei_                199
          _Ike ia Kauná-wahine, Makani Ka-ú_            193
          _Ke amo la ke Akua la i-uka_                  190
          _Ku i Wailua ka pou hale_                     191
          _Mai Kahiki ka Wahine, o Pele_                187
          _Nou paha e, ka inoa_                         200
          _O Pele la ko’u akua_                         198
        _hula puili_—
          _Hiki mai, hiki mai ka La, e!_                114
          _Malua, ki’i wai ke aloha_                    114
        _hula ulili: Ki’i na ka ipo_                    246
        _hula úli-ulí_—
          _Aole i mana’o ia_                            108
          _Auhea wale oe, e ka Makani Inu-wai?_         110
        composition and criticism of                     27
        must contain no words of ill omen                37
        their authors called “the king’s wash-tubs”     116
        to Naihe: _Ka nalu nui, a ku ka nalu mai Kona_   35
      in the _hula_, starting of                         58
      _kahea_, password to the _halau_—
        _Ka uka holo-kia ahi-manu o La’a_                41
        _Kunihi ka mauna i ka la’i, e_                   40
        _Li’u-li’u aloha ia’u_                           39
      _komo_, welcome to the _halau_—
        _Aloha na hale o makou i makamaka ole_           39
        _E hea i ke kanaka e komo maloko_                41
      _kuahu_, altar-prayer—
        _E, Laka, e!_                                    34
        _Noho ana Laka i ka ulu wehiwehi_                33
      _kupe’e_, anklet song: _Aala kupukupu ka uka o
            Kanehoa_                                     49
      of Hiiaka: _Le’a wale hoi ka wahine limalima ole,
            wawae ole_                                  212
      of Mana-mana-ia-kaluea: _Ke lei mai la o Kaula
            i ke kai e-e!_                              212
        for the _hula pua’a: Ko’i maka nui_             228
        in the game of _kilu: A uweuwe ke ko’e a ke kae_  240
      set to music—
        XI: _A e ho’i ke aloha i ka mawae_              167
        VIII: _Aia i Waipi’o Paka’alana_                162
        IX: _Aloha wale oe_                             164
        VII: _Halau Hanalei i ka nini a ka úa_          156
        XIV: _Hawaii ponoi_                             172
        X: _He aloha wau ia oe_                         166
        XIII: _O ka ponaha iho a ke ao_                 169
        XII: _Ua líke no a líke_                        168
      to Kaukini: _Ike ia Kaukini, he lawaia manu_
              (note)                                     51

    MELODY of Hawaiian song                                        170

    METHINKS IT IS YOU, leaf plucked from Love’s tree: song
      for _hula pa-ipu_                                             83

    MIMETIC GESTURE                                                178

    MISTAKEN VIEWS about the Hawaiians                             262

    MISTY AND DIM, a bush in the wilds of Kapa’a: song for
      _hula kilu_                                                  237

    MOTION, illustrated by gesture                                 178

    MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS                                            140
      influence on a _hula_ performance      113
      the _kaekeeke_                         122
      the _pu-la-í_                          147
      the _ukeké_                            149

      I: range of the nose-flute                            146
      II: from the nose-flute                               146
      III: the _ukeké_ as played by Keaonaloa               149
      IV: song from the _hula pa’i-umauma_                  153
      V: song from the _hula pa-ipu_                        153
      VI: song from the _hula Pele_                         154
      VII: _oli_ and _mele_ from the _hula ala’a-papa_      156
      VIII: _He inoa no Kamehameha_                         162
      IX: song, _Poli anuanu: Aloha wale oe_                164
      X: song, _Hua-hua’i_                                  166
      XI: song, _Ka Mawae_                                  167
      XII: song, _Líke no a Líke_                           168
      XIII: song, _Pili-aoao_                               169
      XIV: Hawaiian National Hymn, _Hawaii Ponoi_           172

    MUSIC AND POETRY, Hawaiian—their relation                     161

    MUSIC OF THE HAWAIIANS                                     138–140
      cadence                       140
      phrasing                      140
      rhythm                        160
      under foreign influences      163
      vocal execution               139

    MYTH ABOUT KUMU-KAHI (note)                                    197

    MYTHICAL SHARK, Papi’o (note)                                  206

    NAME-SONG OF KAMEHAMEHA: In Waipio stands Pa ka’alana          163
      of Naihe: The huge roller, roller that surges from Kona       36

    NATIONAL HYMN of Hawaii—

      translation                 175
      with music XIV              172

    NA-Ú, a game (note)                                            118

    NIAU-KANI, a musical instrument                                132

    NIHEU, mythological character (note)                           194

    NIHI-AUMOE                                                      91

    NOHO ANA LAKA _i ka ulu wehiwehi_: altar-prayer                 33

    NOLUNA _ka hale kai, e ka ma’alewa_—
      _mele_ for the _hula ala’a-papa_             63
      _mele_ with music VII                       155

    NOSE-FLUTE                                                135, 145
      music from, II                              146
      remarks on, by Jennie Elsner                146

    NOU PAHA E, _ka inoa: mele_ for the _hula Pele_                200

    Now FOR THE DANCE, dance in accord: song for the _hula ki’i_    98

    NOW, KANE, APPROACH, illumine the altar: altar-prayer to
      Kane and Kapo                                                 45

    NOW WRIGGLES THE WORM to its goal: song in the game of _kilu_  240

    OBSTACLE, AN, illustrated by gesture                           177

    O EWA, _aina kai ula i ka lepo: mele_ for the _hula pa-ipu_     84

    O GODDESS LAKA! altar-prayer                                    34

    OHE HANO-IHU, the nose-flute                         135, 145, 146

    O HILO OE, _Hilo, muliwai a ka wa i ka lani: mele_ for the
      _hula pahu_                                                  104

    OH WEWEHI, la, la! song for the _hula ki’i_                     95

      tabu-removing prayer at graduation                32
      tabu-removing prayer at intermission             128

    O KALAKAUA, _he inoa: mele_ for the hula _ka-laau_             117

    O KA PONAHA _iho a ke ao_: song with music XIII                169

    O KEAWE-ULA-I-KA-LANI: old _mele_ apropos of Keawe (note)       74

    O LAKA OE: altar-prayer to Laka                                 42

    OLAPA, a division of _hula_ performers                      28, 57

      Blow, blow, thou wind of Hilo! (note)       65
      _Pa mai, pa mai_ (note)                     65

    OLD SONG: Keawe, the red blush of dawn (note)                   74

    OLELO HUNÁ, secret talk                                         97

      dividing line between                      254
      from the _hula ala’a-papa_, music VII      156

    OLI LEI: _Ke lei mai la o Kaula i ke kai, e!_                   56

    OLI PA-Ú: _Kakua pa-ú, ahu na kikepa_                           51

    OLI, THE                                                   254–256
      illustration of: _Ka wai opua-makani o Wailua_      255

    OLI, with music VII: _Halau Hanalei i ka nini a ka ua_          155

    OLOPANA, a famous king (note)                                   74

    O MY LOVE goes out to thee: song with music X                  167

    ONE-BREATH PERFORMANCE                                         139

    OOE NO PAHA IA, _e ka lau o ke aloha: mele_ for the _hula
      pa-ipu_                                                       82

    O PELE _la ko’u akua: mele_ for the _hula Pele_                198

    ORACULAR UTTERANCE of Kapihe: _E iho ana oluna_                 99

    ORGANIZATION of a _hula_ company                                29

    ORTHOGRAPHY of the Hawaiian language—influence of Rev.
      W. Ellis (note)                                               72

    OUTSPREADS NOW THE DAWN: song with music XIII                  170

    O WANAHILI _ka po loa ia Manu’a: mele_ for the _hula ki’i_     100

    PA AU I KA _ihe a Kane: mele_ for the _hula pa-hua_            183

    PAHU, the drum                                                 140

    PAKÚ KEAAU, _lulu Waiakea: mele_ for the _hula pa-hua_          60

    PA MAI, _pa mai_: old sea song (note)                           65

    PAPI’O, mythical shark (note)                                  206

    PART-SINGING in Hawaii—
      at the present time                       152
      in ancient times                     150, 152

      In the uplands, the darting flame-bird of La’a      41
      Long, long have I tarried with love                 39
      Steep stands the mountain in calm                   40

    PA-U HALAKÁ, THE (note)                                        124

    PA-Ú SONG: Gird on the _pa-ú_, garment tucked in one side       54

    PA-Ú, the _hula_ skirt                                          49

    PECULIARITIES of Hawaiian speech, music affected by            139

      relations of, with Kama-pua’a      231
      story of                           186

    PERILOUS, STEEP, is the climb to Hanalei woods: song for
      the _hula kielei_                                            211

    PHRASING in music                                              140

    PHYSIQUE of _hula_ performers                                   57

    PI’I ANA A-ÁMA: _mele_ for the _hula mu’umu’u_                 213

    PIKÁKA, E, _ka luna, ke, ke: mele_ for the _hula ki’i_          96

    PILLARS of heaven’s dome, _Kukulu o Kahiki_ (note)              17

    PITCHING THE TUNE                                              158

    PLAIN, A, illustrated by gesture                               178

    PLEIADES, THE, _Makali’i_ (note)                                17

    POETRY of ancient Hawaii                                  161, 263

    POINT TO A DARK ONE: song for the _hula ki’i_                   97

    POLI ANUANU, song with music IX: _Aloha wale oe_               164

    PRAYER OF ADULATION to Laka: In the forests, on the ridges      18

    PRAYER OF DISMISSAL at intermission: _Ku ka makaia a ka
      huaka’i moe ipo_                                             129

    PRECIOUS THE GIFT of heart’s-ease: song for the _hula
      ku’i Molokai_                                                208

    PROVERBIAL SAYING: Unstable the house                           53

    PU-Á, a whistle                                                146

    PUA EHU KAMALENA _ka uka o Kapa’a: mele_ for the _hula kilu_   237

    PUAPUA-KEA                                                      91

    PUILI, a bamboo rattle                                         144

    PU-LA-Í, a musical instrument                                  147

      at graduation exercises: _Pupu we’uwe’u e, Laka e!_    31
      at intermission: _Lehua i-luna_                       126
      to Laka: _Pupu we’uwe’u e, Laka e!_                   128

      _E hooulu ana i Kini o ke Akua_                        21
      _Ei’ au, e Laka mai uka_                               20
      in prose speech: _E ola ia’u, i ka malihini_           46
      to Kane and Kapo: _Kane hiki a’e, he maláma ia luna_   44
      to Laka: _Eia ke kuko, ka li’a_                        43
      to Laka: _Haki pu a ka nahelehele_                     18
      to Laka: _O Laka oe_                                   42
      to the _Kini Akua: E ulu, e ulu, Kini o ke Akua!_      46

    PUNA PLIES PADDLE night-long in the storm: song for
      _hula ala’a-papa_                                             70

    PUNCH-AND-JUDY SHOW and the _hula ki’i_                         91

    PU-NIU, coconut drum                                           141

    PUPILS OF THE HALAU—dispensation before graduation             33

    PUPU-A-LENALENA, a famous dog                                  131

    PUPU WE’UWE’U E, Laka e! _pule hoonoa_—
      at graduation                            31
      at intermission                         128

    PURIFICATION of the _hula_ company                              15
      of the site for the _halau_              14

    RANGE of the nose-flute                                        146

    RECITATION in the _hula_, style of                              58

    RED GLOWS KALA’E through the wind-blown dust: song for the
      _hula kilu_                                                  239

    REED-INSTRUMENT, the _niau-kani_                               147

    RELATION of Hawaiian poetry and music                          161

    RELIGION in Hawaii somber                                       13

    RESPONSIVE CHANTING in the _hula ka-laau_                      116

    RETURN, O LOVE, to the refuge: song with music XI              168

    RHYTHM in Hawaiian music                                  160, 171

    RULES AND PENALTIES controlling a _hula_ company                29

    RULES OF CONDUCT during the building of a _halau_               15

    SHARK-GOD, Kawelo, a sorcerer (note)                            79

    SHE IS LIMED, she is limed: song for the _hula hoonaná_        245

    SINGING IN ANCIENT TIMES—testimony of Capt. James King        149

    SKIRT for the _hula_, the _pa-ú_                                49

    SLANG among the Hawaiians                                       98

    SONG, Hawaiian attitude toward                                 159
      See also Hawaiian song.

      apropos of Nihi-aumoe: Look to your ways in upland Puna       94
      at the first _hula_                                            8
      composed by Kamehameha II                                     69
      divisions of                                                  58
      epithalamium, for the _hula ki’i_: Wanahili bides the
           whole night with Manu’a                                 101
      for interlude: Kane is drunken with awa                      130
      for the—
        _hula ala’a-papa_—
          A mackerel sky, time for foul weather                     70
          From mountain retreat and root-woven ladder               64
          Haunt of white tropic-bird                                67
          Heaven-magic fetch a Hilo pour                            66
          Keaau is a long strip of wildwood                         62
          Keaau shelters, Waiakea lies in the calm                  61
          Look now, Waialua, land clothed with ocean mist           60
          Love is at play in the grove                              71
          Love tousled Waimea with shafts of the wind               69
          Puna plies paddle night-long in the storm                 70
          ’Twas in Koolau I met with the rain                       59
        _hula hoonaná_: She is limed, she is limed                 245
        _hula íliíli_: We twain were lodged in Waipi’o             120
        _hula ilio_: Look forth, god Ku, look forth!               225
        _hula kaekeeke_: It was in Hamakua                         123
          Kahiki-nui, land of wind-driven smoke                    125
        _hula ka-laau_: Kalakaua, a great name                     117
          The cloud-piles o’er Kona’s sea                          118
        _hula kielei_: Perilous, steep is the climb to Hanalei
              woods                                                211
        _hula ki’i_—
          Let’s worship now the bird-cage                           99
          Now for the dance                                         98
          Oh Wewehi, la, la!                                        95
          Point to a dark one                                       97
          The mountain walls of Kalalau                            102
          The roof is a-dry, la, la!                                96
        _hula kilu_—
          Comrade mine in the robe-stripping gusts of Lalau        241
          Engulfed in heaven’s abyss                               243
          Kanaloa tints heaven with a blush                        242
          Misty and dim, a bush in the wilds of Kapa’a             237
          Red glows Kala’e through the wind-blown dust             239
          The sun-furrow gleams at the back of Lehua               238
        _hula kolani_: Lo, the rain, the rain!                     217
        _hula kolea_: A plover at the full of the sea              220
        _hula ku’i_—
          Fame trumpets your conquests each day                    253
          How pleasing, when borne by the tide                     252
        _hula ku’i Molokai_—
          A eulogy for the princess                                209
          Precious the gift of heart’s ease!                       208
        _hula manó_: Alas, I am seized by the shark, great
               shark!                                              222
        _hula mu’umu’u_: Black crabs are climbing                  214
        _hula niau-kani_: Up to the streams in the wildwood        133
        _hula ohe_: Come up to the wildwood, come                  136
        _hula ohelo_: Touched, thou art touched by my gesture      234
        _hula o-niu_: The rustle and hum of spinning top           249
        _hula pahu_—
          In Puna was I, in Kiki’i, in Ha’e-ha’e                   105
          performers      103
          Thou art Hilo, Hilo, flood-gate of heaven                104
          Wai-aleale stands haughty and cold      106
        _hula pa-hua_: I am smitten with spear of Kane             184
        _hula pa-ipu_—
          A burst of smoke from the pit lifts to the skies          89
          A pit lies (far) to the east                              86
          A storm from the sea strikes Ke-au                        78
          Big with child is the Princess Ku                         81
          Ewa’s lagoon is fed with dirt                             84
          Glowing is Kahiki, oh!                                    75
          I will not chase the mirage of Maná                       80
          Leaf of lehua and noni-tint                               76
          Methinks it is you, leaf plucked from love’s tree         83
          The iwa flies heavy to nest in the brush                  76
        _hula pa’i-umauma_—
          At Hilo I rendezvoused with the lehua                    203
          Come now, Manono                                         204
          ’Tis Kahipa, with pendulous breasts                      206
        _hula Pele_—
          Alas, there’s no stay to the smoke                       195
          At Wailua stands the main house-post                     192
          Bedeck now the board for the feast                       200
          Behold Kauná, that sprite of windy Ka-ú                  193
          From Kahiki came the woman, Pele                         188
          Ho! mountain of vapor puffs!                             194
          Lo, Pele’s the god of my choice                          198
          They bear the god’s ax up the mountain                   191
          To Kauai, lifted in ether                                189
          With music VI                                            154
          Yours, doubtless, this name                              201
        _hula pua’a_: Ax of broadest edge I’m hight                230
        _hula puili_—
          It has come, it has come                                 114
          Malua, fetch water of love                               115
        _hula ulili_: A search for a sweetheart                    247
        _hula úli-ulí_—
          I spurn the thought with disdain                         109
          Whence art thou, thirsty Wind?                           111
      from the _hula pa’i-umauma_—music IV                        153
      in the game of _kilu_: Now wriggles the worm to its goal     240
      of cosmology—
        Begotten were the gods of graded rank (note)               196
        _Hanau ke apapa nu’u_ (note)                               196
      of Hiiaka: How pleased is the girl maimed of hand and foot   212
      of Mana-mana-ia-kaluea: Kaúla wreathes her brow with the
               ocean                                               213
      of the tree-shell: Trill afar, trill a-near                  121
      of welcome to the _halau_: What love to our cottage homes!    40
      The Water of Kane: This question, this query                 258
      with music—
        VII: Hanalei is a hall for the dance in the pouring rain   155
        XIV: Hawaii’s very own                                     175
        VIII: In Waipi’o stands Paka’a-lana                        163
        IX: Love fain compels to greet thee                        165
        X: O my love goes out to thee                              167
        XIII: Outspreads now the dawn                              170
        XI: Return, O love, to the refuge                          168
        XII: When the rain drums loud on the leaf                  169

    SOURCE of _hula_ songs                                          58

    STEEP STANDS THE MOUNTAIN in calm: password to the _halau_      40

    STRESS-ACCENT and rhythmic accent                              158

    SUPPORT AND ORGANIZATION of the _hula_                          26

    TABU, as a power in controlling a _hula_ company                30

    TABU-REMOVING PRAYER at intermission: Oh wildwood bouquet,
      O Laka!                                                      128

    TEMPO in Hawaiian song                                         160

    THE CLOUD-PILES o’er Kona’s sea whet my joy: song for the
      _hula kalaau_                                                118

    THE HUGE ROLLER, roller that surges from Kona: name-song to
      Naihe                                                         36

    THE IWA FLIES HEAVY to nest in the brush: song for the _hula
      pa-ipu_                                                       76

    THE MOUNTAIN WALLS of Kalalau: song for the _hula ki’i_        102

    THE RAINBOW stands red o’er the ocean: tiring song              55

    THE ROOF is a-dry, la, la! song for the _hula ki’i_             96

    THE RUSTLE AND HUM of spinning top: song for the _hula o-niu_  249

    THE SUN-FURROW gleams at the back of Lehua: song for the
      _hula kilu_                                                  238

    THE WIND-BEATEN STREAM of Wailua: an _oli_ or lyric            256

    THEY BEAR THE GOD’S AX up the mountain: song for the
      _hula Pele_                                                  191

    THIS MY WISH, my burning desire: altar-prayer to Laka           43

    THIS QUESTION, this query: song, The Water of Kane             258

    THIS SPOIL AND RAPE of the wildwood: altar-prayer to Laka       19

    THOU ART HILO, Hilo, flood-gate of heaven: song for the
      _hula pahu_                                                  104

    THOU ART LAKA: altar-prayer to Laka                             42

    THY BLESSING, O LAKA: altar-prayer in prose speech              47

      _Lele Mahu’ilani a luna_                   56
      Lift, Mahu’ilani, on high                  56
      The rainbow stands red o’er the ocean      55

    ’TIS KAHIPA, with pendulous breasts: song for the _hula
      pa’i-umauma_                                                 206

    TO KAUAI, lifted in ether: song for the _hula Pele_            189

    TONE-INTERVALS in Hawaiian song                                158

    TOUCHED, thou art touched by my gesture: song for the
      _hula ohelo_                                                 234

    TRANSLATION, literalism in, versus fidelity                     88

    TRILL A-FAR, trill a-near: song of the tree-shell              121

    ’TWAS IN KOOLAU I met with the rain: song for the _hula
      ala’a-papa_                                                   59

    UA ONA O KANE _i ka awa: mele_ for interlude                   130

    UKEKÉ, a Hawaiian harp      147
      music of                  149

    UKU-LELE and taro-patch fiddle, used in the _hula ku’i_
      (note)                                                       251

    ULA KALA’E-LOA _i ka lepo a ka makani: mele_ for the
      _hula kilu_                                                  239

    ULA KA LANI _ia Kanaloa: mele_ for the _hula kilu_             241

    ÚLI-ULÍ, a musical instrument                             107, 144

    UNION OR SIMILARITY, illustrated by gesture                    178

    VOCAL EXECUTION of Hawaiian music                              139

    VOWEL-REPETITION in the _i’i_                                  159

    WAI-ALEALE stands haughty and cold: song for the _hula pahu_   106

    WANAHILI bides the whole night with Manu’a: (epithalamium)
      song for the _hula ki’i_                                     101

    WATER OF KANE, THE: a song of Kane                             257

    WELA KAHIKI, E! _mele_ for the _hula pa-ipu_                    73

    WELCOME TO THE HALAU: Call, to the man to come in               41

    WE TWAIN were lodged in Waipi’o: song for the _hula íliíli_    120

    WHAT LOVE to our cottage homes! song of welcome to the
      _halau_                                                       40

    WHENCE ART THOU, thirsty Wind? song for the _hula úli-ulí_     111

    WHEN FLOWERS THE WILIWILI: a bit of folk-lore (note)           221

    WHEN THE RAIN DRUMS loud on the leaf: song with music XII      169

    WORD-REPETITION in poetry                                       54
      for assonance                             227

    WORSHIP IN THE HALAU                                            42
      contrasted with worship in the _heiau_      15

    WREATHING THE EMBLEM of goddess Laka                            34

    WREATH-SONG: Kaula wears the ocean as a wreath                  56

    XYLOPHONE, the _laau_                                          144

    YOURS, DOUBTLESS, this name: song for the _hula Pele_          201

*** End of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "Unwritten Literature of Hawaii: The Sacred Songs of the Hula" ***

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