CHAPTER XV

THE VOYAGE TO MAUI

Hiiaka's voyage across the Ale-nui-haha channel, considered merely

as a sea adventure, was a tame experience. There was no storm, no

boistrous weather, sea as calm as a mill-pond, nothing to fillip the

imagination with a sense of excitement or danger; yet it was far from

being an agreeable experience to the young woman who was now having

her first hand-to-hand tussle with the world.

They had spent the night at the house of one Pi'i-ke-a-nui. In the

early morning their host and a younger man--apparently his son--named

Pi'i-ke-a-iki, made ready their canoe to sail for Maui. Hiiaka,

assuming that passage would be granted both of them, in accordance

with a promise made the previous day, stood ready against the hour

of departure. At the last moment, the younger man, having assisted

Wahine-oma'o to her seat in the bow next to himself, called to his

elder, "Pi'i-ke-a-nui, why don't you show your passenger to her seat,

the one next you?"

"I won't do it," Pi'i-ke-a-nui answered groutily. "I find that the

canoe will be overloaded if we take passengers aboard and all our

landlord's freight will get wet."

The real reason for this volte-face on the part of the old sailor was

that he had made an unseemly proposition to Hiiaka the night before

and she had repelled him.

Wahine-oma'o, thereupon, left her seat and the canoe started without

them. It was not more than fairly underway, however, when a violent

sea struck the craft and swamped it, and all the loose freight was

floating about in the ocean.

"There, you see! We'd 'ave had better luck with the women aboard." Such

was the exclamation of Pi'i-ke-a-iki.

It did not take long to convince the old man Pi'i-ke-a-nui, who was

captain of the canoe, that he had invited this disaster on himself,

the agent of which, as he rightly suspected, was none other than the

distinguished-looking young woman who now stood on the beach watching

him in his predicament with unperturbed countenance.

The two men floated their canoe, collected their baggage and came

ashore. When they had got the stuff dry and stowed in the waist of

the craft, they escorted the women aboard, seating Wahine-oma'o, as

directed by the captain, in the bow near Pi'i-ke-a-iki and Hiiaka in

the after part, within arm's length of Pi'i-ke-a-nui, and they put

to sea.

The canoe was a small affair, unprovided with that central platform,

the pola, that might serve as the cabin or quarter deck, on which the

passengers could stretch themselves for comfort. In her weariness,

Hiiaka, with her head toward the bow, reclined her body against

the top rail of the canoe, thus eking out the insufficiency of the

narrow thwart that was her seat; and she fell asleep, or rather,

entered that border-land of Nod, in which the central watchman has

not yet given over control of the muscular system and the ear still

maintains its aerial reconnoissance.

The wind, meanwhile, as it caromed aft from the triangular sail of mat,

coquetted with her tropical apparel and made paú and kihei shake like

summer leaves.

The steersman, in whom that precious factor, a chivalrous regard for

woman, was even of less value than is common to the savage breast,

in the pursuit of a fixed purpose, began to direct amorous glances at

the prostrate form before him and to the neglect of his own proper

duties. Presently he left his steering and stole up to Hiiaka with

privy paw outstretched. Hiiaka roused from her half-dreamy state on

the instant, and the man sprang back and resumed his paddle.

Hiiaka, with the utmost coolness, expressed in song her remonstrance

and sarcastic rebuke for this exhibition of inhospitable rudeness:

A Hono-ma-ele au, i Hono-ka-lani,

Ike au i ka ua o ko'u aina,

E halulu ana, me he kanaka la--

Ka ua ku a-o-a i kai.

Haki kaupaku o ka hale i ka ino, e!

Ino Ko'o-lau, ino Ko'o-lau, e-e!

TRANSLATION

With pillowed neck I lay, face to heaven:

The rain, I found, beat on my bed;

Came a tremor, like tread of a man--

The slap of a rain-squall at sea;

Within, the roof-tree broken down,

My house exposed to the storm,

My garden of herbs laid waste!

The young man added his protest: "Yes, his whole conduct is, indeed,

shameful, scandalous. He hasn't the decency to wait till he gets

ashore."

In the midst of this unpleasantness it was a comfort to hear the strong

cheerful voice of her former companion Paú-o-pala'e calling to her

across the stretch of waters. It will be remembered that their roads

had parted company sometime before Hiiaka had left the big island. The

separation had made no change, however, in their mutual affection:

O hele ana oe, e ka noe, e ka awa,

E na ki a Wahine-kapu,

E ka ua lele a'e maluna

O Ka-la-hiki-ola, la:

O hele ana, e!

TRANSLATION

Like a cloud you fleet by,

On the wings of the storm--

Vision of womanly tabu--

Of the rain-clouds that sweep

O'er the Hill-of-good-luck:

May you speed on your way!

Hiiaka replied to her kahu's mele in these words:

A noho ana,

E na hoaiku,

E na hoa haele,

I uka o Ka-li'u-la,

I Moe-awakea.

TRANSLATION

Kinsmen, allies, travel-mates,

You rest in upland Ka-li'u;

There taste you midday repose.

Perhaps it was that Hiiaka failed to manifest in her carriage and

department the dignity and tabu that hedges in an alii or an akua;

perhaps the rough hearted Pi'i-ke-a-nui, sailor-fashion, deemed himself

outside the realm of honor which rules on land. However that might

be, as Hiiaka lay decently covered against the cold wind that drew

down the flank of Hale-a-ka-la, this rude fellow, regardless of every

punctilio, stole up to Hiiaka and repeated his former attempt. Hiiaka

caught his hand in mid air and administered this rebuke:

O Ka-uwiki, mauna ki'eki'e,

Huki a'e la a pa i ka lani:

He po'o-hiwi no kai halulu;

Au ana Moku-hano i ke kai--

He maka no Hana,

O maka kilo i'a.

O kou maka kunou, a,

Ua hopu-hia.

TRANSLATION

Ka-uwiki, famous in story,

While buffeting ocean's blows,

Aspires to commerce with heaven.

Moku-hano's palms, that float

Like a boat in the water,

Are watchful eyes to Hana,

Alert for the passing school:

Your wanton vagrant eye

Is caught in the very act.

The canoe grated on the shingly beach. The two young women, rejoiced

to be free at last from the enforced proximity of ship-board, sprang

ashore and with speedy steps put a distance between themselves and

the canoe-house. "That's right," called out the steersman. "Make

haste to find a bath. We'll join you in a short time."

Pele and Hiiaka: A Myth From Hawaii · 第 15 / 38 章