Punchbowl lies back of Honolulu. It is an extinct volcano. Inside the
crater rim is a basin whose sides are grass-covered, with groups of
trees here and there. The little houses and small gardens of squatters
show that there is no longer any fear of subterranean activity. A large
part of the city of Honolulu is built on what were once the brown,
desolate sides of the volcano sloping down to the sea.
Punchbowl is one of the last attempts of the goddess of fire to retain
her hold on the island of Oahu. The great ridge of mountains which
forms the backbone of the island is a gigantic remnant of volcanic
action, but the craters out of which this vast mass of lava was poured
died centuries before the foothill craters threw out the last black
sand of Punchbowl or uplifted the coral and the white sea sand and
shells of Leahi Diamond Head.
In the indefinite long ago, Kakei was the moi, or high ruling chief, of
Oahu. He was enterprising and brave. He not only perfected himself in
the use of the spear, the war-club and the sling-stone, but he rallied
around him the restless young chiefs of the districts which
acknowledged his supremacy. His court was filled with men who gave and
received blows, who won and lost in the many games, who were penniless
to-day and rich to-morrow, and yet took all that came as a matter of
course. Kakei called these younger chiefs together and told them to
return to their districts for a time and make preparations for a voyage
and a battle. They must see that many new canoes were made and the best
of the old ones repaired and repolished. They must select the bravest
and best of their retainers and have them well armed and well
provisioned. He hinted that it might be a long journey, therefore they
had better provide strong mat sails for all the canoes. It might be
many days, therefore the provisions should be such as would last. At
once the young men with great joy hastened to their homes to obey the
will of their chief.
It was impossible to keep the people from talking about the expedition.
Excitement predominated. The shrill voices of the women shouted the
news from valley to valley. The hum of unwonted industry was heard over
all the island. Imagination was keenly intent to discover the point
threatened by the proposed excursion. Night after night the people
discussed the various enemies of their king, and his prospects for
successful battle with them, or they talked of the enlargement of his
kingdom by the acquisition of Molokai or the increase of riches by a
foray along the coasts of Hawaii. They prophesied great victories and
much spoil. Months passed by and all the preparations were complete. A
splendid body of warriors were gathered around their high chief. The
large flotilla of canoes was launched, the sails set, and the colored
pennants placed at the end of each mast. The young chiefs were
brilliant in their bright yellow and red war capes and hideous with the
war masks which many of them proudly wore as they leaped into their
canoes and shouted “Aloha” to the friends whom they were leaving.
As soon as the boats had left the shore the chief turned to the north
rather than to the south, as all had been led to believe would be the
course. Sails and paddles were both used freely. The winds of the seas
and the strong arms of the oarsmen vied with each other in hastening
the fleet toward the island of Kauai. Night crept over the waters, but
the bright stars were unclouded and the path over the waters was as
straight by night as it had been by day.
The morning star was shining and the dawn was painting the clear sky
with wonderful tints of pearl when Kakei and his army of warriors,
already on the land, raised their war-cry and assaulted the people of
the village of Waimea.
Catching war-club and spear the chief of Waimea rushed out of his
house, raising his war-cry. His men, half-awake, confused and dazed by
the sudden attack, attempted to aid him in resisting the invaders. The
battle was short and decisive. In a very little while many people were
killed. The thatched houses were set on fire and a great destruction
wrought.
Kakei had ordered his warriors to seize the canoes and the women and
children and whatever plunder in calabashes, mats, kapa cloth, stone
implements and feather cloaks could be had, and gather all together on
the beach.
The captured canoes and their own great fleet were filled and the
return safely made to Oahu. Kakei and his warriors sailed around the
island to Honolulu Harbor. There the beach was covered with the new
riches and the captive women and children. The king ordered a great
feast to be prepared on the slopes of Punchbowl. Fish in abundance were
caught, pigs and chickens were slaughtered, many ovens with red-hot
stones were made ready, and huge calabashes of awa prepared.
Kakei and his victorious warriors gathered around the poi-bowl, while
the hula-girls danced most joyously before them.
Suddenly the earth shook under them, the poi-bowls rocked as if tossed
on the waters of the sea, the feast which had been spread before them
moved from place to place as if made of things of life. The rocky
cliffs of Punchbowl began to separate and come crashing down the
hillside in great masses. The people fled in every direction, leaving a
part of their number crushed under the falling stones.
Then came another mighty earthquake. The side of Punchbowl opened and a
flood of lava poured out, mixed with clouds of steam and foul gases.
Down over the place where the feast was spread on the luau mats poured
the fire. The feast became the food of the fire-goddess. Then a
wonderful thing appeared above the flowing lava, in the midst of the
clouds hovering over the crater. A number of the aumakua of Kauai were
seen in a solemn and stately dance. Back and forth they moved to the
rhythm of steady peals of erupting gases. The clouds swayed to and fro,
while the ghosts moved back and forth among them. The spirits of the
ancestors had come to protect the women and children of the households
whose friendly deities they were. It was the ceremonial, sacred dance
of the spirits, to be followed by swift punishment of those who had
brought such great injury to Kauai.
But while the ghosts continued their awful dance, the terrified king
and his warriors hastily prepared a propitiation. The captured women
and children were called to the beach. All the plunder brought from
Waimea was hastily collected and placed in the hands of the captives.
The kahunas, the priests of the king, were sent to the slope above
Punchbowl Hill to cry out to the aumakuas that all the reparation
possible would be made at once.
The warriors placed the captives and their goods in canoes, and started
back to Kauai. As the canoes passed out of sight the earthquakes
ceased. No longer was there the thunder of imprisoned gases leaping to
liberty. The fires died away, and the flood of lava cooled. The
aumakuas had accepted the offered repentance of the king and his
warriors.
It is said that the fire never again returned to that crater or to the
island of Oahu.
Note: Curious and weird tales are told concerning these two small,
picturesque volcanoes of the city which in tropical luxuriance is one
of the most beautiful spots in the Pacific Ocean. Near the foot of
Diamond Head, and not far from the caves which burrow its sides, was
the heiau (temple) which was one of the last to be glutted with human
sacrifices. Its altars were loaded with bodies of dead men when
Kamehameha brought his warriors from Hawaii and Maui and with much
bloodshed conquered Oahu and unified the Islands under one government.
On the brow of Diamond Head, fronting the sea, are the remains of a
small fish-god temple within the walls of which the less cruel
offerings were made to Kuula to gain his favor in securing food from
the sea. Battles were fought and noted deeds of daring done both east
and west of this prominent crater.
The summit of Punchbowl is crowned with a bold, frowning pile of
perpendicular rocks. On the top of this pile peculiar human sacrifices
are said to have been offered from time to time.
The natives whisper a story that one of the last kings of the
Kamehameha family, in a drunken fit, so seriously injured his son that
ultimately death resulted. The crazed father planned an expiation. The
word was quietly passed that no one was to move far away from his home
that night. There was an air of mystery around the city. What happened
was never accurately known, but a fire burned on the high rock, and the
smoke fell around it that night. It was hinted that a drunken sailor
might easily have disappeared while staggering through the dark
shadows, and be but little missed.
But back in the olden time there was laid the foundation for a legend
which in these later days becomes a good folk-lore tale. Many of the
Hawaiians of to-day believe in the continual presence of the aumakuas,
the spirits of the dead. In time past the aumakuas were a powerful
reality. An ancestor, a father or a grandfather, a makua, died.
Sometimes he went to Po, the under-world, or to Milu, the shadow-land,
or to Lani, the Hawaiian heaven, and sometimes he remained to be a
torment or a blessing to his past friends.
In Samoa, Turner says that the aumakuas were supposed to come back from
the under-world and enter into the bodies of those they wished to
trouble. They might find a home in the stomach or heart or bowels, but
wherever they found an abiding-place the spirit produced disease and
death. If a man was dying, his neighbors desired to be on good terms
with him and did all they could to make him comfortable.
This is very much like the power of praying to death among the
Hawaiians. The spirit of some dead person was supposed to be the real
destructive agent in putting to death the one prayed against. The
aumakua (the ancestor spirit) was more powerful than any living human
force.
In Tahiti the oro-matuas (aumakuas) were very malignant, cruel and
relentless in punishing those who incurred their displeasure. In all
the different groups of islands, however, the ghosts were supposed to
belong to particular families and to exert their mysterious power in
caring for these households. Many Hawaiian families have stories which
are still firmly believed, of special favors granted to individuals in
time of danger. A school-boy in Hilo told the writer how his
grandfather was saved when his canoe upset, and how he was safely
brought to the land by the shark into which the family aumakua had
entered. The story is told of a man captured in battle, tied up in
green ti leaves ready to be put into the pit full of red-hot stones,
and then set free by the owl in which the protector of his family was
dwelling. “People sometimes gave the bodies of their relatives to
sharks in order that their spirits might enter into the sharks, or
threw them into the crater of Kilauea, that the spirits might join the
company of volcanic deities and afterward befriend the family.”