PELE AND HIIAKA
A Myth From Hawaii
By
NATHANIEL B. EMERSON, A. M., M. D.
HONOLULU, HAWAII
Author of The Long Voyages of the Ancient Hawaiians,
and of Unwritten Literature of Hawaii,
Translator of David Malo's Hawaiian Antiquities
PRINTED BY
Honolulu Star-Bulletin Limited
1915
TO
HER MAJESTY LILIUOKALANI
AND
HER BELOVED HAWAIIAN
PEOPLE
PREFACE
The story of Pele and her sister Hiiaka stands at the fountain-head of
Hawaiian myth and is the matrix from which the unwritten literature of
Hawaii drew its life-blood. The material for the elaboration of this
story has, in part, been found in serial contributions to the Hawaiian
newspapers during the last few decades; in part, gathered by interviews
with the men and women of the older regime, in whose memory it has been
stored and, again, in part, it has been supplied by papers solicited
from intelligent Hawaiians. The information contained in the notes
has been extracted by viva voce appeal to Hawaiians themselves. These
last two sources of information will soon be no longer available.
Merely as a story, this myth of Pele and her kindred may be deemed to
have no compelling merit that should attract one to its reading. The
cycle of world-myth already gathered from the rising to the setting
of the sun, from the north pole to the south pole, is quite vast
enough, and far in excess of the power of any one scholar to master
and digest. It contains enough pretty stories, in all conscience,
to satisfy the demands of the whole raft of storiologists and
penny-a-liners, ever on the alert to cram the public with new
sensations, without making it necessary to levy upon Hawaii for her
little contribution.
It is not from a disposition to pander to any such appetite that
the writer has drudged through many long years in collecting and
giving literary shape to the material herein presented. The people
who settled the Hawaiian group of islands are recognized as having
occupied a unique station, one so far removed from the center and
vortex of Polynesian activity as to enable them to cast a highly
important side-light on many of the problems yet unsolved, that are
of interest to ethnologists and philologists and that still enshroud
the Polynesian race.
Hawaii rejoiced in a Kamehameha, who, with a strong hand, welded
its discordant political elements into one body and made of it a
nation. But it was denied a Homer capable of voicing its greatest epic
in one song. The myth of the volcanic queen, like every other important
Hawaiian myth, has been handled by many poets and raconteurs, each from
his own point of view, influenced, no doubt, by local environment;
but there never stood forth one singer with the supreme power to
symphonize the jarring notes and combine them into one concordant
whole. This fact is a tribute to the independent attitude of Hawaii's
geographical units as well as to its scattered minstrelsy.
This book does not offer itself as a complete history of Pele; it does
not even assume to present all the oli, mele, and pule that deal with
the great name of Pele. There were important events in her life that
will receive but incidental mention. Of such is the story of Pele's
relations with the swine-god Kama-pua'a. As indicated in the title,
the author confines his attention almost wholly to the story of Pele's
relations with Prince Lohiau of Haena, in which the girl Hiiaka became
involved as an accessory.
It was inevitable that such a myth as that of Pele should draw to
it and, like an ocean-reef, become the stranding ground of a great
mass of flotsam and jetsam poetry and story. Especially was this
true of those passional fragments of Hawaiian mele and oli, which,
without this, would not easily have found a concrete object to which
they might attach themselves.
It matters not whether the poet-philosopher, deep pondering on the
hot things of love, hit upon Pele as the most striking and appropriate
character to serve his purpose and to wear his garment of passionate
song and story, or, whether his mind, working more objectively, took
Nature's suggestion and came to realize that, in the wild play of
the volcanic forces, he had exemplified before him a mighty parable
of tempestuous love. Certain it is that the volcano was antecedent to
the poet and his musings, and it seems more reasonable to suppose that
from it came the first suggestion and that his mind, as by a flash
of inspiration, began its subjective work as the result of what he
saw going on before his eyes.
The Hawaiian to whose memory was committed the keeping of an old time
mele regarded it as a sacred trust, to be transmitted in its integrity;
and he was inclined to look upon every different and contradictory
version of that mele as, in a sense, an infringement of his preserve,
a desecration of that sacred thing which had been entrusted to him. It
resulted from this that such a thing as a company of haku-mele (poets
or song-makers) conferring together for the purpose of settling upon
one authoritative version of a historic mele was an impossibility.
It is a misfortune when the myth-cycle of any people or country is
invaded for exploitation by that class of writers whose sole object
is to pander, or cater--to use a softer term--to the public taste
for novelty and sensation, before that cycle has been canvassed
and reported upon by students who approach it in a truthful yet
sympathetic spirit. In other words: plain exposition should come before
sensational exploitation. To reverse the order would be as undesirable
as to have Münchausen gain the ear of the public before Mungo Park,
Livingston, Stanley, Cook, or Vancouver had blazed the way and taken
their observations.
Fortunately for Hawaii, the spirit of the times has set its face like
a flint against this sort of sensation-mongering, and if a Münchausen
were now to claim the public ear he would have the searchlight of
scientific investigation turned upon him as pitilessly as it was done
in the case of an alleged claim to the discovery of the north pole.
It is a satisfaction to the author, after having accomplished his
pioneer work of opening up a new domain, to bid the public enter in
and enjoy the delicious lehua parks once claimed by the girl Hiiaka as
her own; and he can assure them that there yet remain many coverts that
are full of charm which are to this day unravaged by the fires of Pele.
Thanks, many thanks, are due from the author--and from us all--to
the men and women of Hawaiian birth whose tenacious memories have
served as the custodians of the material herein set forth, but who
have ungrudgingly made us welcome to these remainder biscuits of
mythological song and story, which, but for them, would have been
swallowed up in the grave, unvoiced and unrecorded.
N. B. EMERSON.
INTRODUCTION
According to Hawaiian myth, Pele, the volcanic fire-queen and the
chief architect of the Hawaiian group, was a foreigner, born in the
mystical land of Kuai-he-lani, a land not rooted and anchored to one
spot, but that floated free like the Fata Morgana, and that showed
itself at times to the eyes of mystics, poets and seers, a garden land,
clad with the living glory of trees and habitations--a vision to warm
the imagination. The region was known as Kahiki (Kukulu o Kahiki),
a name that connotes Java and that is associated with the Asiatic
cradle of the Polynesian race.
Pele's mother was Haumea, a name that crops up as an ancestor in the
hoary antiquity of the Hawaiian people, and she was reputed to be
the daughter of Kane-hoa-lani.
Pele was ambitious from childhood and from the earliest age made it
her practice to stick close to her mother's fireplace in company with
the fire-keeper Lono-makua, ever watchful of his actions, studious of
his methods--an apprenticeship well fitted to serve her in good stead
such time as she was to become Hawaii's volcanic fire-queen. This
conduct drew upon Pele the suspicion and illwill of her elder sister
Na-maka-o-ka-ha'i, a sea-goddess, who, fathoming the latent ambition
of Pele, could not fail to perceive that its attainment would result
in great commotion and disturbance in their home-land.
Her fears and prognostications proved true. Namaka, returning from one
of her expeditions across the sea, found that Pele, taking advantage
of her absence, had erupted a fiery deluge and smothered a portion
of the home-land with aä.
It would have gone hard with Pele; but mother Haumea bade her take
refuge in the fold (pola) of Ka-moho-alii's malo. Now this elder
brother of Pele was a deity of great power and authority, a terrible
character, hedged about with tabus that restricted and made difficult
the approach of his enemies. Such a refuge could only be temporary,
and safety was to be assured only by Pele's removal from her home
in the South land, and that meant flight. It was accomplished in the
famed mythical canoe Honua-i-a-kea.
The company was a distinguished one, including such godlike beings
as Ka-moho-alii, Kane-apua, Kane-milo-hai and many other relations
of Pele, the youngest, but not the least important, of whom was the
girl Hiiaka, destined to be the heroine of the story here unfolded
and of whom it was said that she was born into the world as a clot of
blood out of the posterior fontanelle (nunoi) of her mother Haumea,
the other sisters having been delivered through the natural passage.
The sailing course taken by Pele's company brought them to some
point northwest of Hawaii, along that line of islets, reefs, and
shoals which tail off from Hawaii as does the train of a comet from
its nucleus. At Moku-papápa Pele located her brother Kane-milo-hai,
as if to hold the place for her or to build it up into fitness for
human residence, for it was little more than a reef. Her next stop
was at the little rock of Nihoa that lifts its head some eight hundred
feet above the ocean. Here she made trial with the divining rod Paoa,
but the result being unfavorable, she passed on to the insignificant
islet of Lehua which clings like a limpet to the flank of Niihau. In
spite of its smallness and unfitness for residence, Pele was moved to
crown the rock with a wreath of kau-no'a, while Hiiaka contributed a
chaplet of lehua which she took from her own neck, thus christening
it for all time. The poet details the itinerary of the voyage in the
following graphic lines:
KE KAAO A PELE I HAAWI IA KA-MOHO-ALII I KA HAALELE ANA IA KAHIKI
Ku makou e hele me ku'u mau poki'i aloha,
Ka aina a makou i ike ole ai malalo aku nei,
A'e makou me ku'u poki'i, kau i ka wa'a;
No'iau ka hoe a Ka-moho-alii;
A'ea'e, kau i ka nalu--
He nalu haki kakala,
He nalu e imi ana i ka aina e hiki aku ai.
O Nihoa ka aina a makou i pae mua aku ai:
Lele a'e nei makou, kau i uka o Nihoa.
O ka hana no a ko'u poki'i, a Kane-apua,
O ka hooili i ka ihu o ka wa'a a nou i ke kai:
Waiho anei o Ka-moho-alii ia Kane-apua i uka o Nihoa.
No'iau ka hoe a Ka-moho-alii
A pae i ka aina i kapa ia o Lehua.
TRANSLATION
PELE'S ACCOUNT TO KA-MOHO-ALII OF THE DEPARTURE FROM KAHIKI
We stood to sail with my kindred beloved
To an unknown land below the horizon;
We boarded--my kinsmen and I--our craft,
Our pilot well skilled, Ka-moho-alii.
Our craft o'ermounted and mastered the waves;
The sea was rough and choppy, but the waves
Bore us surely on to our destined shore--
The rock Nihoa, the first land we touched;
Gladly we landed and climbed up its cliffs.
Fault of the youngster, Kane-apua,
He loaded the bow till it ducked in the waves;
Ka-moho-alii marooned the lad,
Left the boy on the islet Nihoa
And, pilot well skilled, he sailed away
Till we found the land we christened Lehua.
When they had crowned the desolate rock with song and wreath,
Ka-moho-alii would have steered for Niihau, but Pele, in a spasm
of tenderness that smiles like an oasis in her life, exclaimed,
"How I pity our little brother who journeyed with us till now!" At
this Ka-moho-alii turned the prow of the canoe in the direction of
Nihoa and they rescued Kane-apua from his seagirt prison. Let the
poet tell the story:
Hui [1] iho nei ka wa'a a Ka-moho-alii
E kii ana i ko lakou pokii, ia Kane-apua, i Nihoa.
Pili aku nei ka wa'a o Ka-moho-alii i uka nei o Nihoa,
Kahea aku nei i ko lakou pokii, ia Kane-apua,
E kau aku ma ka pola o ka wa'a.
Hui iho nei ka ihu o ka wa'a o Ka-moho-alii--
He wa'a e holo ana i Niihau,
Kau aku nei o Ka-moho-alii i ka laau, he paoa, [2]
E imi ana i ko lakou aina e noho ai, o Kauai:
Aole na'e i loa'a.
Kau mai la o Ka-moho-alii i ka laau, he paoa;
O Ahu [3] ka aina.
Ia ka ana iho nei o lakou i Alia-pa'akai,
Aole na'e he aina.
TRANSLATION
Ka-moho-alii turned his canoe
To rescue lad Kane from Nihoa.
Anon the craft lies off Nihoa's coast;
They shout to the lad, to Kane-apua,
Come aboard, rest with us on the pola. [4]
Ka-moho-alii turns now his prow,
He will steer for the fertile Niihau.
He sets out the wizard staff Paoa,
To test if Kauai's to be their home;
But they found it not there.
Once more the captain sails on with the rod,
To try if Oahu's the wished for land:
They thrust in the staff at Salt Lake Crater,
But that proved not the land of their promise.
Arrived at Oahu, Ka-moho-alii, who still had Pele in his keeping, left
the canoe in charge of Holoholo-kai and, with the rest of the party,
continued the journey by land. The witchery of the Paoa was appealed
to from time to time, as at Alia-pa'akai, Puowaena (Punchbowl Hill),
Leahi (Diamond Head), and lastly at Makapu'u Point, but nowhere with
a satisfactory response. (The words of Pele in the second verse of
the kaao next to be given lead one to infer that she must for a time
have entertained the thought that they had found the desired haven
at Pele-ula--a small land-division within the limits of the present
city of Honolulu.) Let the poet tell the story:
Ke ku nei makou e imi kahi e noho ai
A loa'a ma Pele-ula:
O Kapo-ula-kina'u ka wahine;
A loa'a i ka lae kapu o Maka-pu'u.
Ilaila pau ke kuleana;
Imi ia Kane-hoa-lani,
A loa'a i ka lae o Maka-hana-loa.--
He loa ka uka o Puna:
Elua kaua i ke kapa hookahi.
Akahi au a ike--haupu mau, walohia wale:
E Kane-hoa-lani, e-e!
E Kane-hoa-lani, e-e!
Aloha kaua!
Kau ka hokú hookahi, hele i ke ala loa!
Aloha kama kuku kapa a ka wahine!
He wahine lohiau, naná i ka makani;
He makani lohiau, haupu mai oloko!
TRANSLATION
We went to seek for a biding place,
And found it, we thought, in Pele-ula--
Dame Kapo--she of the red-pied robe--
Found it in the sacred cape, Maka-pu'u;
The limit that of our journey by land.
We looked then for Kane-hoa-lani
And found him at Maka-hana-loa.
Far away are the uplands of Puna;
One girdle still serves for you and for me.
Never till now such yearning, such sadness!
Where art thou, Kane-hoa-lani?
O Father Kane, where art thou?
Hail to thee, O Father, and hail to me!
When rose the pilot-star we sailed away.
Hail, girl who beats out tapa for women--
The home-coming wife who watches the wind,
The haunting wind that searches the house!
The survey of Oahu completed, and Ka-moho-alii having resumed command
of the canoe, Pele uttered her farewell and they voyaged on to the
cluster of islands of which Maui is the center:
Aloha, Oahu, e-e!
E huli ana makou i ka aina mamua aku,
Kahi a makou e noho ai.
TRANSLATION
Farewell to thee, Oahu!
We press on to lands beyond,
In search of a homing place.
Repeated trial with the divining rod, Paoa, made on the western part of
Maui as well as on the adjoining islands of Molokai and Lanai proving
unsatisfactory, Pele moved on to the exploration of the noble form
of Hale-a-ka-la that domes East Maui, with fine hope and promise of
success. But here again she was dissatisfied with the result. She
had not yet delivered herself from the necessity of protection by
her kinsman, Ka-moho-alii: "One girdle yet serves for you and for
me," was the note that still rang out as a confession of dependence,
in her song.
While Pele was engaged in her operations in the crater of Hale-a-ka-la,
her inveterate enemy Na-maka-o-ka-ha'i, who had trailed her all the
way from Kahiki with the persistency of a sea-wolf, appeared in the
offing, accompanied by a sea-dragon named Ha-ui.
The story relates that, as Na-maka-o-ka-ha'i passed the sand-spit of
Moku-papápa, Kane-milo-hai, who, it will be remembered, had been left
there in charge as the agent of Pele, hailed her with the question:
"Where are you going so fast?"
"To destroy my enemy, to destroy Pele," was her answer.
"Return to Kahiki, lest you yourself be destroyed," was the advice
of Kane-milo-hai.
Pele, accepting the gage thrown down by Na-maka-o-ka-ha'i, with
the reluctant consent of her guardian Ka-moho-alii, went into battle
single-handed. The contest was terrific. The sea-monster, aided by her
dragon consort, was seemingly victorious. Dismembered parts of Pele's
body were cast up at Kahiki-nui, where they are still pointed out as
the bones of Pele (na iwi o Pele.) (She was only bruised). Ka-moho-alii
was dismayed thinking Pele to have been destroyed;--but, looking across
the Ale-nui-haha channel, he saw the spirit-form of Pele flaming in
the heavens above the summits of Mauna-loa and Mauna-kea. As for
Na-maka-o-ka-ha'i, she retired from the battle exultant, thinking
that her enemy Pele was done for: but when she reported her victory
to Kane-milo-hai, that friend of Pele pointed to the spirit body of
Pele glowing in the heavens as proof that she was mistaken. Namaka was
enraged at the sight and would have turned back to renew the conflict,
but Kane-milo-hai dissuaded her from this foolhardy undertaking,
saying, "She is invincible; she has become a spirit."
The search for a home-site still went on. Even Hale-a-ka-la was not
found to be acceptable to Pele's fastidious taste. According to one
account it proved to be so large that Pele found herself unable to
keep it warm. Pele, a goddess now, accordingly bade adieu to Maui
and its clustering isles and moved on to Hawaii.
HE KAAO NA PELE, I HAALELE AI IA MAUI
Aloha o Maui, aloha, e!
Aloha o Moloka'i, aloha, e!
Aloha o Lana'i, aloha, e!
Aloha o Kaho'olawe, aloha, e!
Ku makou e hele, e!
O Hawaii ka ka aina
A makou e noho ai a mau loa aku;
Ke ala ho'i a makou i hiki mai ai,
He ala paoa ole ko Ka-moho-alii,
Ko Pele, ko Kane-milo-hai, ko Kane-apua,
Ko Hiiaka--ka no'iau--i ka poli o Pele,
I hiki mai ai.
TRANSLATION
PELE'S FAREWELL TO MAUI
Farewell to thee, Maui, farewell!
Farewell to thee, Moloka'i, farewell!
Farewell to thee, Lana'i, farewell!
Farewell to thee, Kaho'olawe, farewell!
We stand all girded for travel:
Hawaii, it seems, is the land
On which we shall dwell evermore.
The route by which we came hither
Touched lands not the choice of Paoa;--
'Twas the route of Ka-moho-alii,
Of Pele and Kane-milo-hai,
Route traveled by Kane-apua, and by
Hiiaka, the wise, the darling of Pele.
Pele and her company landed on Hawaii at Pua-kó, a desolate spot
between Kawaihae and Kailua. Thence they journeyed inland until
they came to a place which they named Moku-aweo-weo--not the site of
the present crater of that name, but--situated where yawns the vast
caldera of Kilauea. It was at the suggestion of Ku-moku-halii and
Keawe-nui-kau of Hilo that the name was conferred. They also gave
the name Mauna-loa to the mountain mass that faced them on the west,
"because," said they, "our journey was long."
Night fell and they slept. In the morning, when the elepaio uttered its
note, they rose and used the Paoa staff. The omens were favorable,
and Pele decided that this was the place for her to establish a
permanent home.
The people immediately began to set out many plants valuable for
food; among them a variety of kalo called aweü, well suited for
upland growth; the ulu (bread-fruit); the maiä (banana); the pala-á
(an edible fern); the awa (Piper methysticum) and other useful plants.
The land on the Hilo side of Kilauea, being in the rain belt,
is fertile and well fitted for tillage. The statement, however,
that Kilauea, or its vicinity, became the place of settlement for
any considerable number of people cannot be taken literally. The
climatic conditions about Kilauea are too harsh and untropical to
allow either the people or the food plants of Polynesia to feel at
home in it. The probability is that instead of being gathered about
Kilauea, they made their homes in the fat lands of lower Puna or Hilo.
Pele, on her human side at least, was dependent for support and
physical comfort upon the fruits of the earth and the climatic
conditions that made up her environment. Yet with all this, in
the narrative that follows her relations to humanity are of that
exceptional character that straddle, as it were, that border line
which separates the human from the superhuman, but for the most
part occupy the region to the other side of that line, the region
into which if men and women of this work-a-day world pass they find
themselves uncertain whether the beings with whom they converse are
bodied like themselves or made up of some insubstantial essence and
liable to dissolve and vanish at the touch.
CHAPTER I
PELE IN THE BOSOM OF HER FAMILY
Once, when Pele was living in the pit of Kilauea, she roused up from
her couch on the rough hearth-plate and said to her sisters, "Let us
make an excursion to the ocean and enjoy ourselves, open the opihi
shells and sea-urchins, hunt for small squid and gather sea-moss."
To this all joyfully assented, saying, "Yes, let us go."
The sisters formed quite a procession as they tramped the narrow
downhill path until they came to the hill Pu'u-Pahoehoe--a place
in the lower lands of Puna. Pele herself did not visibly accompany
them on this journey; that was not according to her custom: she had
other ways and means of travel than to plod along a dusty road. When,
however, the party arrived at the rendezvous, there, sure enough,
they found Pele awaiting them, ready for the business in hand.
In the midst of their pleasurings Pele caught sight of Hopoe and Haena
as they were indulging in an al fresco dance and having a good time
by the Puna sea. She was greatly pleased and, turning to her sisters,
said, "Come, haven't you also got some dance that you can show off
in return for this entertainment by Hopoe and her companion?"
They all hung their heads and said, "We have no hula."
Hiiaka, the youngest, had stayed behind to gather lehua flowers, and
when she came along laden with wreaths, Pele said to her, jestingly,
"I've just been proposing to your sisters here to dance a hula in
response to that of Hopoe and her fellow, but they decline, saying
they have not the art. I suppose it's of no use to ask you, you are
so small; but, perhaps, you've got a bit of a song."
"Yes, I have a song," Hiiaka answered, to the surprise of all.
"Let us have it, then; go on!" said Pele.
Then the little girl, having first decorated all of her sisters with
the wreaths, beginning with Pele, sang as follows:
Ke ha'a la Puna i ka makani;
Ha'a ka ulu hala i Keaau;
Ha'a Haena me Hopoe;
Ha'a ka wahine,
Ami i kai o Nana-huki, la--
Hula le'a wale,
I kai o Nana-huki, e-e!
TRANSLATION
Puna's a-dance in the breeze,
The hala groves of Keaau shaken:
Haena and Hopoe are swaying;
The thighs of the dancing nymph
Quiver and sway, down at Nana-huki--
A dance most sightly and pleasing,
Down by the sea Nana-huki.
Pele was delighted. "Is that all you have?" she asked.
"I have something more," said the girl.
"Let us hear it then."
Hiiaka put even more spirit into the song as she complied:
O Puna kai kuwá i ka hala;
Pae ka leo o ke kai;
Ke lu, la, i na pua lehua.
Nana i kai o Hopoe,
Ka wahine ami i kai
O Nana-huki, la;
Hula le'a wale,
I kai o Nana-huki, e-e.
TRANSLATION
The voice of Puna's sea resounds
Through the echoing hala groves;
The lehua trees cast their bloom.
Look at the dancing girl Hopoe;
Her graceful hips swing to and fro,
A-dance on the beach Nana-huki:
A dance that is full of delight,
Down by the sea Nana-huki.
At the conclusion of this innocent performance--the earliest mention
of the hula that has reached us--Hiiaka went to stay with her
friend Hopoe, a person whose charm of character had fascinated the
imagination of the susceptible girl and who had already become her
dearest intimate, her inspiring mentor in those sister arts, song,
poesy and the dance.
Pele herself remained with her sister Hiiaka-i-ka-pua-enaena
(Hiiaka-of-the-fire-bloom), and presently she lay down to sleep in
a cave on a smooth plate of pahoehoe. Before she slept she gave her
sister this command: "Listen to me. I am lying down to sleep; when the
others return from fishing, eat of the fish, but don't dare to wake
me. Let me sleep on until I wake of myself. If one of you wakes me
it will be the death of you all. If you must needs wake me, however,
call my little sister and let her be the one to rouse me; or, if not
her, let it be my brother Ke-o-wahi-maka-o-ka-ua--one of these two."
When Ke-o-wahi-maka-o-ka-ua, who was so closely related to Pele
that she called him brother, had received this command and had
seen her lapse into profound sleep he went and reported the matter
to Hiiaka, retailing all that Pele had said. "Strange that this
havoc-producer should sleep in this way, and no bed-fellow!" said
Hiiaka to herself. "Here are all the other Hiiakas, all of equal
rank and merit! Perhaps it was because my dancing pleased her that
she wishes me to be the one to rouse her."
The cavern in the hill Pahoehoe in which Pele lay and slept, wrapped
in her robe (kapa-ahu), remains to this day.
In her sleep Pele heard the far-off beating of hula drums, and her
spirit-body pursued the sound. At first it seemed to come from some
point far out to sea; but as she followed, it shifted, moving to
the north, till it seemed to be off the beach of Waiakea, in Hilo;
thence it moved till it was opposite Lau-pahoehoe. Still evading her
pursuit, the sound retreated till it came from the boisterous ocean
that beats against the shaggy cliffs of Hamakua. Still going north,
it seemed presently to have reached the mid channel of Ale-nui-haha
that tosses between Hawaii and Maui.
"If you are from my far-off home-land Kahiki, I will follow you
thither, but I will come up with you," said Pele.
To her detective ear, as she flitted across the heaving waters of
Ale-nui-haha, the pulsing of the drums now located itself at the
famous hill Kauwiki, in Hana; but, on reaching that place, the music
had passed on to the west and sounded from the cliffs of Ka-haku-loa.
The fugitive music led her next across another channel, until in her
flight she had traversed the length of Moloka'i and had come to the
western point of that island, Lae-o-ka-laau. Thence she flew to cape
Maka-pu'u, on Oahu, and so on, until, after crossing that island, she
reached cape Kaena, whose finger-point reaches out towards Kaua'i. In
that desolate spot dwelt an aged creature of myth, Pohaku-o-Kaua'i by
name, the personal representative of that rock whose body-form the
hero Mawi had jerked from its ocean bed ages before, in his futile
attempt to draw together the two islands Kaua'i and Oahu and unite
them into one mass.
Pele, arguing from her exasperation, said, "It must be my old
grandfather Pohaku-o-Kaua'i who is playing this trick with the
music. If it's he that's leading me this chase, I'll kill him."
The old fellow saw her approach and, hailing her from a distance,
greeted her most heartily. Her answer was in a surly mood: "Come
here! I'm going to kill you to-day. So it's you that's been fooling
me with deceitful music, leading me a wearisome chase."
"Not I, I've not done this. There they are, out to sea; you can hear
for yourself." And, sure enough, on listening, one could hear the
throbbing of the music in the offing.
Pele acknowledged her mistake and continued her pursuit, with the
parting assurance to the old soul that if he had been the guilty one,
it would have been his last day of life.
The real authors of this illusive musical performance were two little
creatures named Kani-ka-wí and Kani-ka-wá, the former a sprite that
was embodied in the nose-flute, the latter in the hokeo, a kind of
whistle, both of them used as accompaniments to the hula. Their sly
purpose was to lure Pele to a place where the hula was being performed.
Pele now plunged into the water--from this point at least she
swam--and, guided by the call of the music, directed her course to
the little village of Haena that perched like a gull on the cape of
the same name, at the northernmost point of the island of Kaua'i. It
was but a few steps to the hall of the hula--the halau--where throbbed
the hula drums and where was a concourse of people gathered from the
whole island.