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

Mele

(Ai-ha'a)

He lua i ka Hikina, Ua ena e Pele; Ke haoloolo e la ke ao, Ke lele la i-luna, i-lalo; 5 Kawewe ka o-o 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-o 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-o i-Ialo 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-o 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-o 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-o i-lalo i akea. Ninau o Wakea, Owai nei akua e eli nei? Owau no, o Pele, Nana i eli aku ka lua i Maul 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-o 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-o i-lalo, i akea. Eli-eli, kau mai!

[Translation]

Song

(In turgid style)

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

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

20 The heavens are lifted aslant, One border moves up and one down; There's a stroke of o-o '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-o '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 hu-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 hot, and yet not hit the mark of Ms definition.

Mele

Haku'i ka uahi o ka lua, pa i ka lani; Ha'aha'a Hawaii, moku o Keawe i hanau ia. Kiekie ke one o Malama 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-Mna-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 will ia e lie ahi. A po, e!

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

[Translation]

Song

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

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

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

The Hawaiian who furnished the meles which, in their translated forms, are designated as canto I, canto II, and so on, spoke of them as pale, 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 pale 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 pale (pah-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 America?

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

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

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

The make-up and style of these ki'i are so similar that a description of one will serve for all six. This marionette represents the figure of a man, and was named Maka-ku (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-o, 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, holoku 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 holoku of yellow cotton, beneath which is an underskirt of striped silk in green and white. The arms are loosely jointed to the body.

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

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

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

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



[Page 93]

Puapuakea, a man of genuine courage, hearing of the boastful achievements of Maka-ku, 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-ku by three points, or ai[205], as the Hawaiians uniquely term it.

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

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

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

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

Besides the marionettes already named among the characters found in the different hula-plays of the hula ki'i, the [Page 94] author has heard mention of the following marionettes: Ku, Kini-ki'i, Hoo-lehelehe-ki'i, Ki'i-ki'i, and Nihi-aumoe.

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

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

[Translation]

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

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

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

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

Mele

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

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

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

[Footnote 207: Kai-oa. The paddle-men; here a euphemism.]

[Footnote 208: Wa'a. A euphemism for the human body.]

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

[Footnote 210: Wewehi-loa. Another name for Wahie-loa, who is said to have been the grandfather of Wewehi. The word luau'i in the previous verse, meaning real father, is an archaic form. Another form is kua-u'i.]

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

[Translation]

Song

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

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



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

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

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

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

[Footnote 212: Pikaka (full form pikakao). Dried up, juiceless.]

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mele

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

[Translation]

Song

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

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

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

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

[Footnote 215: Ku-pou. To stoop over, from devotion to one's own pursuits, from modesty, or from shame.]

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

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

Mele no ka Hula Ki'i

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

[Translation.]

Song for the Hula Ki'i

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

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

When the hula-dancer who communicated to the author the above song—a very accomplished and intelligent woman—was asked for information that would render possible its proper translation, she replied that her part was only that of a mouthpiece to repeat the words and to make appropriate gestures, he pono hula wale no, mere parrot-work. The language, she said, was such "classic" Hawaiian as to be beyond her understanding. [Page 99] Here, again, is another song in argot, a coin of the same mintage as those just given:

Mele

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

[Translation]

Song

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

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

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

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

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

Mele

(Ko'ihonua)

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

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

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

[Footnote 220: Pu kau kama. The conch (pu) is figured as the herald of fame. Kau is used in the sense of to set on high, in contrast with such a word as waiho, to set down. Kama is the word of dignity for children.]

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

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

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

[Footnote 224: I-olena. Roving, shifty, lustful.]

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Footnote 231: Li'u-la. The mirage, a common phenomenon on Niihau, and especially at Mana, on Kauai.]

[Translation]

Song

(Distinct utterance)

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

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

Mele

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

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

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

[Footnote 233: Ko'a-mano. A part of the ocean into which the stream Wai-aloha falls.]

[Footnote 234: Waha iho. With mouth that yawns downward, referring, doubtless, to the overarching of the pali, precipice. The same figure is applied to the back (kua) of the traveler who climbs it.]

[Footnote 235: Elision of the final a in ana.]

[Translation]

Song

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

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

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

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

The hula ala'a-papa, hula ipu, hula pa-ipu (or kuolo), the hula hoo-nana, 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. x).

[Footnote 236: Full form, pahu-hula.]

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mele

(Ko'i-honua)

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

2

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

[Translation]

Song

(Bombastic style)

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

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.

Mele

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 eha ka nahele,

Maui ka pua, uwe eha 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. Ea!

[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 connective.]

[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 Kauai.]

[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 attractiveness.] [Page 106]

[Translation]

Song

Wai-aleale stands haughty and cold, Her lehua bloom, fog-soaked, droops pensive; The thorn-fringe set ahout 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.



[Page 107]



XIII.—THE HULA ULI-ULI

The hula uli-uli 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, uli-uli, 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 uli-uli 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 uli-uli 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 uli-uli. 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, 1903.]

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:

Mele

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.

[Translation]

Song

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.

Mele

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 Ano 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 ta 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 o-o, manu le'a o ka nahele.

I Pa-ie-ie an, noho pu me ke anu. E ha'i a'e oe t ka puana: 20 Ke kahuna kalai-hoe o Puu-ka-Pele.

[Translation]

Song

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 o-o.

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 wind.

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 PUILI

The character of a hula was determined to some extent by the nature of the musical instrument that was its accompaniment. In the hula puili it certainly seems as if one could discern the influence of the rude, but effective, instrument that was its musical adjunct. This instrument, the puili (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 puili 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 puili 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.



While the hula puili 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 trivial.

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.

Mele

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-a, he keiki, He keiki makua-ole ke uwe nei.

[Translation]

Song

It has come, it has come; lo the Sun! How I love the Sun that's on high; Below it swims Ka-wai-hoa, Oa 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:

Mele

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 mal 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 vegetation.]

[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.]

[Translation]

Song

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.

Mele

O Kalakaua, be 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 Wahi i ka hulu o ka mamo, Ka pua nani o Hawaii; O Ka-la-kaua, he inoa!

[Translation]

Song

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.

Mele

Kona kai opua[253] i kala i ka la'i; Opua binano ua i ka malie; Hiolo na wai naoa a ke kehau, [Page 118] Ke' na-u[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' owa.

[Footnote 253: Opua means a distinct cloud-pile, an omen, a weather-sign.]

[Footnote 254: The word na-u 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.]

[Translation]

Song

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-u 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 ILI-ILI

The hula ili-ili, 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:

Mele

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-o, Hoolono aku i ka leo o ke kahuli.

[Translation]

Song

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-o, 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.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 38 PLATE XII

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:

Mele

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

[Translation]

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 KA-EKE-EKE

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 knowledge."

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 Hawaiians:

Mele

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.

[Translation]

Song

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.

Mele

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-u hala-ka[259] I ka lae o Hana-malo;[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-hahei.[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-u halaka. 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 hody is immersed in it.]

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

[Footnote 261: Ewa lewa. 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 anaana); 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 island.]

[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]

[Translation]

Song

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-hahei; 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]