HIIAKA'S ADDRESS TO CAPE KAENA
The mountains were still in shadow, but the star of morning was on
high and rosy fingers in the east heralded the approach of day, taming
the flare of the torches and making them almost a superfluity as the
canoe--with Hiiaka occupying the pola, Lohiau in the stern holding the
steersman's paddle and Wahine-oma'o ensconced in the bow--curvetted to
the waves and shot out into the blue sea. One paddle-stroke and the
craft had cleared the land, another and it had traversed the heaving
channel of Ië-ië-waena, another and it was beached on the sands
of Mokuleia. At this point Hiiaka parted from her two companions,
directing them to call for her with the canoe at a designated place.
Hiiaka's first care was to pay her respects to the aged one, her
ancestor, Pohaku-o-Kaua'i; after that to her ancestral divinity Kaena,
a name in modern times bestowed on the western cape of Oahu. She turned
this point and passed into the sweltering lea where the sun poured its
merciless heat and, as she climbed the slope of the Waianae mountain,
looking back on the route just accomplished, according to her custom,
she uttered her comments in song:
Kunihi Kaena, holo i ka malie;
Wela i ka La ke alo o ka pali;
Auamo mai i ka La o Kilauea;
Ikiiki i ka La na Ke-awa-ula,
Ola i ka makani Kai-a-ulu Koholá-lele--
He makani ia no lalo.
Haöa ka La i na Makua;
Lili ka La i Ohiki-lolo;
Ha'a-hula le'a ke La i ke kula,
Ka Ha'a ana o ka La i Makáha;
Oï ka niho o ka La i Ku-manomano;
Ola Ka-maile i ka huna na niho;
Mo'a wela ke kula o Walió;
Ola Kua-iwa i ka malama po;
Ola Waianae i ka makani Kai-a-ulu, [337]
Ke hoá aku la i ka lau o ka niu.
Uwé o Kane-pu-niu [338] i ka wela o ka La;
Alaila ku'u ka luhi, ka malo'elo'e,
Auau aku i ka wai i Lua-lua-lei.
Aheahe Kona, [339] Aheahe Koolau-wahine, [340]
Ahe no i ka lau o ka ilima.
Wela, wela i ka La ka pili i ka umauma,
I Pu'u-li'ili'i, i Kalawalawa, i Pahe-lona,
A ka pi'i'na i Wai-ko-ne-né-ne;
Hoomaha aku i Ka-moa-ula;
A ka luna i Poha-kea
Ku au, nana i kai o Hilo:
Ke ho'omoe a'e la i ke kehau
O a'u hale lehua i kai o Puna,
O a'u hale lehua i kai o Ku-ki'i.
TRANSLATION
Kaena's profile fleets through the calm,
With flanks ablaze in the sunlight--
A furnace-heat like Kilauea;
Ke-awa-ula swelters in heat;
Koholá-lele revives in the breeze,
That breath from the sea, Kai-a-ulu.
Fierce glows the sun of Makua;
How it quivers at Ohiki-lele--
'Tis the Sun-god's dance o'er the plain,
A riot of dance at Makaha.
The sun-tooth is sharp at Kumano;
Life comes again to Maile ridge,
When the Sun-god ensheaths his fang.
The plain Walió is sunburned and scorched;
Kua-iwa revives with the nightfall;
Waianae is consoled by the breeze
Kai-a-ulu and waves its coco fronds;
Kane-pu-niu's fearful of sunstroke; [341]
A truce, now, to toil and fatigue:
We plunge in the Lua-lei water
And feel the kind breeze of Kona,
The cooling breath of the goddess,
As it stirs the leaves of ilima.
The radiant heat scorches the breast
While I sidle and slip and climb
Up one steep hill then another;
Thus gain I at last Moa-ula,
The summit of Poha-kea.
There stand I and gaze oversea
To Hilo, where lie my dewy-cool
Forest preserves of lehua
That reach to the sea in Puna--
My lehuas that enroof Kuki'i.
According to another account,--less mythical--Hiiaka, on her departure
from Haena, packed off Wahine-oma'o and Lohiau in the canoe, while
she herself started on afoot. Before proceeding on her way she turned
herself about and, as was her wont, made a farewell address to the
precipitous cliffs of Ka-lalau and to the deity therein enshrined:
O Ka-lalau, pali a'ala ho'i, e,
Ke ako ia a'e la e ka wahine;
A'ala ka pali i ka laua'e [342] e
I Hono-pú, Wai-aloha.
Aloha oe la, e-e!
TRANSLATION
Your verdant mountain walls, Lalau--
Where the nymphs pluck harvest of wreaths--
Fragrant with breath of lau-a'e,
Fed by love's waters at Hono-pú;
My farewell love goes forth to you.
Hiiaka now left behind her the wild and precipitous region of Kalalau
and, passing through Miloli'i, came into Mana, a region famous for
its heat, its sand-hills, and its tantalizing mirage. Mana was also
the haunt of a swarm of little beings, elfs, brownies and what not,
to whom Hiiaka courteously offered her salutations:
O Maná, aina a ke Akua, [343] e-e,
Aina a ke Akua i ka li'u;
O ka pa'a kolo hele i o, e-e!
E ho'i mai ana ka oe [344] i o'u nei, e-e.
TRANSLATION
Maná, thou land of the godling host,
Thou land of that wonder--mirage;
Swarming with creatures that creep and crawl!
. . . . . .
But you're coming to take me hence!
According to this version of the narrative, which is the preferable
one, Hiiaka now took passage in the canoe and from Maná the reunited
party sailed away for Oahu. By this happy reunion the otherwise
dissevered narrative is brought into harmony and conflicting versions
no longer pull away from each other like two ill-trained steers.
The voyage was not without enlivening incident. When the canoe had
reached a point where the surges began to roll in the direction of Oahu
Hiiaka saw two monster sharks disporting themselves in the waves whom
she recognized as relatives on the side of her paternal grand-father,
their names being Kua and Kahole-a-Kane. This was her second encounter
with these sea-monsters; the first was on her recent voyage to Kauai,
an encounter which had threatened serious results, if not disaster,
to Hiiaka's expedition. As the story goes, when Kua and Kahole had
become aware that Hiiaka's going was for the purpose of bringing
Lohiau to the bed of Pele, they were moved to great disapproval of
her enterprise: "A mere man," said they. "The idea of mating him with
Pele is atrocious: and he is a dead man at that."
After taking counsel with the sea-goddess Moana-nui-ka-lehua, who had
her boudoir in the deep waters of Iëië-waena, with her aid they raised
a commotion in the sea and Hiiaka barely escaped being swamped by a
mighty water-spout. For her part Hiiaka was quite ready to overlook
this rough play of her old kinsfolk and to do the agreeable with them
and she accordingly addressed them kindly: "How lucky for me is this
meeting again with you out here in the ocean! It will enable me to
relieve my hardships by a smack of real comfort."
The two sea-monsters felt unable to respond to Hiiaka's advances in a
like spirit with her's. Their consciences pleaded guilty. "Look here,"
said Kua to his fellow, "this is our grandchild."
"Yes," his companion replied, "and she will put us to death. We'd
better hide ourselves, you in your patch of surf, I in mine."
"That sort of a ruse won't avail us in the least," objected Kua.
"What then? Where shall we flee for safety?"
"To the mountains back of Waianae, to be sure," asserted Kua.
This suggestion meeting with the approval of his companion, they
hastened to land and, having divested themselves of their shark-bodies
and resumed human form, they made for the mountains and hid themselves
in the palaá fern. Hiiaka was greatly disappointed that these two
old people should have so utterly misconceived her attitude of mind
toward them as to rob her of their interesting company. She expressed
her observations in song:
A makani Kai-a-ulu lalo o Waianae,
E wehe aku ana i ka lau o ka niu.
Ha'i ka nalu o Kua a ala i ka po;
I hiki aku, i moe aku iuka ka luhi o ke kai:
Moe no a huli ke alo [345] i ka paia.
Hiki ka alele a kou ipo
A koena lau ka ula, [346] e:
He ula aloha, e!--
Makani pahele-hala [347] o Kamaile-húna,
Ke wahi mai la e nahá lalo o Malamalama-iki.
Ike'a Wai-lua [348]--ke kino o ka laau, [349]
Pau pu no me ke kino o ka Lehua [350] wehe'a:
Wehe'a iho nei loko o ka moe,
Malamalama oko'a no olalo me he ahi lele la!
He'e, e-e!
TRANSLATION
A cat'spaw ruffles the Waianae sea,
Lifting the fronds of the coco-palm;
The waves of Kua rise betime
And haste to repose neath the cliff,
To sleep secure with face to the wall.
Then comes my herald of peace, with
Its ear-tingling[346] message of love,
Offering bounty and pardon as free
As the wind that shakes the hala tree.
Drawn is the bolt and open the door
Of the secret chamber under the sea,
Revealing the tricks of the merfolk twain,
Their bodies dead as the corpse of King Log,
And with them that of the Mermaid Queen;
For a ray has pierced to their resting place,
As a lightning flash illumines the deep.
You're caught, my fellows, you're caught!
Neither Kua nor Kahole-a-Kane were relieved of their guilty fears
by Hiiaka's soft words. They continued their flight along the same
path which was soon afterwards followed by Hiiaka in her climb to
Poha-kea. The only penalty inflicted by Hiiaka, when at last she
came up with them and found them penitent, cowering in the brush,
was their retirement from the ocean: not a light stroke, however,
being almost the equivalent of taking away a mariner's commission,
thus separating him from his chosen element, his native air.