CANTO I

[Illustration:

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY

BULLETIN 38 PLATE I

FEMALE DANCING IN HULA COSTUME]

[Page 1]

SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY

BULLETIN 38

UNWRITTEN LITERATURE

OF HAWAII

THE SACRED SONGS OF THE HULA

COLLECTED AND TRANSLATED, WITH

NOTES AND AN ACCOUNT OF THE HULA

BY NATHANIEL B. EMERSON, A.M., M.D.

WASHINGTON

GOVERNMENT PRINTING OFFICE

1909

[Page 2][Blank]

[Page 3]

PREFATORY NOTE

Previous to the year 1906 the researches of the Bureau were

restricted to the American Indians, but by act of Congress

approved June 30 of that year the scope of its operations was

extended to include the natives of the Hawaiian islands.

Funds were not specifically provided, however, for

prosecuting investigations among these people, and in the

absence of an appropriation for this purpose it was

considered inadvisable to restrict the systematic

investigations among the Indian tribes in order that the new

field might be entered. Fortunately the publication of

valuable data pertaining to Hawaii is already provided for,

and the present memoir by Doctor Emerson is the first of the

Bureau’s Hawaiian series. It is expected that this Bulletin

will be followed shortly by one comprising an extended list

of works relating to Hawaii, compiled by Prof. H.M. Ballou

and Dr. Cyrus Thomas.

W.H. HOLMES,

_Chief._

[Page 4] [Blank]

[Page 5]

CONTENTS

Page

Introduction 7

I. The hula 11

II. The halau; the kuahu—their decoration and consecration 14

III. The gods of the hula 23

IV. Support and organization of the hula 26

V. Ceremonies of graduation; debut of a hula dancer 31

VI. The password—the song of admission 38

VII. Worship at the altar of the halau 42

VIII. Costume of the hula dancer 49

IX. The hula alá’a-papa 57

X. The hula pa-ipu, or kuolo 73

XI. The hula ki’i 91

XII. The hula pahu 103

XIII. The hula úliulí 107

XIV. The hula puili 113

XV. The hula ka-laau 116

XVI. The hula ili-ili 120

XVII. The hula kaekeeke 122

XVIII. An intermission 126

XIX. The hula niau-kani 132

XX. The hula ohe 135

XXI. The music and musical instruments of the Hawaiians 138

XXII. Gesture 176

XXIII. The hula pa-hua 183

XXIV. The hula Pele 186

XXV, The hula pa’i-umauma 202

XXVI. The hula ku’i Molokai 207

XXVII. The hula kielei 210

XXVIII. The hula mú’u-mú’u 212

XXIX. The hula kolani 216

XXX. The hula kolea 219

XXXI. The hula manó 221

XXXII. The hula ilio 223

XXXIII. The hula pua’a 228

XXXIV. The hula ohelo 233

XXXV. Thehula kilu 235

XXXVI. The hula hoonaná 244

XXXVII. The hula ulili 246

XXXVIII. The hula o-niu 248

XXXIX. The hula ku’i 250

XL. The oli 254

XLI. The water of Kane 257

XLII. General review 260

Glossary 265

Index 271

[Page 6]

ILLUSTRATIONS

Page

PLATE I. Female dancing in hula costume Frontispiece

II. Íe-íe (Freycinetia arnotti) leaves and fruit 19

III. Hála-pépe (Dracaena aurea) 24

IV. Maile (Alyxia myrtillifolia) wreath 32

V. Ti (Dracaena terminalis) 44

VI. Ilima (Sida fallax), lei and flowers 56

VII. Ipu hula, gourd drum 73

VIII. Marionettes (Maile-pakaha, Nihi-au-moe) 91

IX. Marionette (Maka-kú) 93

X. Pahu hula, hula drum 103

XI. Úli-ulí, a gourd rattle 107

XII. Hawaiian tree-snails (Achatinella) 120

XIII. Lehua (Metrosideros polymorpha) flowers and

leaves 126

XIV. Hawaiian trumpet, pu (Cassis madagascarensis) 131

XV. Woman playing on the nose-flute (ohe-hano-ihu) 135

XVI. Pu-niu, a drum 142

XVII. Hawaiian musician playing on the uku-lele 164

XVIII. Hala fruit bunch and drupe with a “lei” 170

XIX. Pu (Triton tritonis) 172

XX. Phyllodia and true leaves of the koa

(Acacia koa) 181

XXI. Pala-palai ferns 194

XXII. Awa-puhi, a Hawaiian ginger 210

XXIII. Hinano hala 235

XXIV. Lady dancing the hula ku’i 250

FIGURE 1. Puíli, bamboo rattle 113

2. Ka, drumstick for pu-niu 142

3. Ohe-hano-ihu, nose-flute 145

MUSICAL PIECES

I. Range of the nose-flute—Elsner 146

II. Music from the nose-flute—Elsner 146

III. The _ukeké_ (as played by Keaonaloa)—Eisner 149

IV. Song from the hula pa’i-umauma—Berger 153

V. Song from the hula pa-ipu—Berger 153

VI. Song for the hula Pele—Berger 154

VII. Oli and mele from the hula ala’a-papa—Yarndley 156

VIII. _He Inoa no Kamehameha_—Byington 162

IX. Song, _Poli Anuanu_—Yarndley 164

X. Song, _Hua-hua’i_—Yarndley 166

XI. Song, _Ka Mawae_—Berger 167

XII. Song, _Like no a Like_—Berger 168

XIII. Song, _Pili Aoao_—Berger 169

XIV. _Hawaii Ponoi_—Berger 172

[Page 7]

INTRODUCTION

This book is for the greater part a collection of Hawaiian

songs and poetic pieces that have done service from time

immemorial as the stock supply of the _hula_. The descriptive

portions have been added, not because the poetical parts

could not stand by themselves, but to furnish the proper

setting and to answer the questions of those who want to

know.

Now, the hula stood for very much to the ancient Hawaiian; it

was to him in place of our concert-hall and lecture-room, our

opera and theater, and thus became one of his chief means of

social enjoyment. Besides this, it kept the communal

imagination in living touch with the nation’s legendary past.

The hula had songs proper to itself, but it found a mine of

inexhaustible wealth in the epics and wonder-myths that

celebrated the doings of the volcano goddess Pele and her

compeers. Thus in the cantillations of the old-time hula we

find a ready-made anthology that includes every species of

composition in the whole range of Hawaiian poetry. This

epic[1] of Pele was chiefly a more or less detached series of

poems forming a story addressed not to the closet-reader, but

to the eye and ear and heart of the assembled chiefs and

people; and it was sung. The Hawaiian song, its note of joy

par excellence, was the _oli_; but it must be noted that in

every species of Hawaiian poetry, _mele_—whether epic or

eulogy or prayer, sounding through them all we shall find the

lyric note.

[Footnote 1: It might be termed a handful of lyrics strung on

an epic thread.]

The most telling record of a people’s intimate life is the

record which it unconsciously makes in its songs. This record

which the Hawaiian people have left of themselves is full and

specific. When, therefore, we ask what emotions stirred the

heart of the old-time Hawaiian as he approached the great

themes of life and death, of ambition and jealousy, of sexual

passion, of romantic love, of conjugal love, and parental

love, what his attitude toward nature and the dread forces of

earthquake and storm, and the mysteries of spirit and the

hereafter, we shall find our answer in the songs and prayers

and recitations of the hula.

The hula, it is true, has been unfortunate in the mode and

manner of its introduction to us moderns. An institution of

divine, that is, religious, origin, the hula in modern times

[Page 8] has wandered so far and fallen so low that foreign and

critical esteem has come to associate it with the riotous and

passionate ebullitions of Polynesian kings and the amorous

posturing of their voluptuaries. We must make a just

distinction, however, between the gestures and bodily

contortions presented by the men and women, the actors in the

hula, and their uttered words. “The voice is Jacob’s voice,

but the hands are the hands of Esau.” In truth, the actors in

the hula no longer suit the action to the word. The utterance

harks back to the golden age; the gesture is trumped up by

the passion of the hour, or dictated by the master of the

hula, to whom the real meaning of the old bards is ofttimes a

sealed casket.

Whatever indelicacy attaches in modern times to some of the

gestures and contortions of the hula dancers, the old-time

hula songs in large measure were untainted with grossness. If

there ever were a Polynesian Arcadia, and if it were possible

for true reports of the doings and sayings of the Polynesians

to reach us from that happy land—reports of their joys and

sorrows, their love-makings and their jealousies, their

family spats and reconciliations, their worship of beauty and

of the gods and goddesses who walked in the garden of

beauty—we may say, I think, that such a report would be in

substantial agreement with the report that is here offered;

but, if one’s virtue will not endure the love-making of

Arcadia, let him banish the myth from his imagination and hie

to a convent or a nunnery.

If this book does nothing more than prove that savages are

only children of a younger growth than ourselves, that what

we find them to have been we ourselves—in our

ancestors—once were, the labor of making it will have been

not in vain.

For an account of the first hula we may look to the story

of Pele. On one occasion that goddess begged her sisters to

dance and sing before her, but they all excused themselves,

saying they did not know the art. At that moment in came

little Hiiaka, the youngest and the favorite. Unknown to her

sisters, the little maiden had practised the dance under the

tuition of her friend, the beautiful but ill-fated Hopoe.

When banteringly invited to dance, to the surprise of all,

Hiiaka modestly complied. The wave-beaten sand-beach was her

floor, the open air her hall. Feet and hands and swaying

form kept time to her improvisation:

Look, Puna is a-dance in the wind;

The palm groves of Kea-au shaken.

Haena and the woman Hopoe dance and sing

On the beach Nana-huki,

A dance of purest delight,

Down by the sea Nana-huki.

The nature of this work has made it necessary to use

occasional Hawaiian words in the technical parts. At their

[Page 9] first introduction it has seemed fitting that they should be

distinguished by italics; but, once given the entrée, it is

assumed that, as a rule, they will be granted the rights of

free speech without further explanation.

A glossary, which explains all the Hawaiian words used in the

prose text, is appended. Let no one imagine, however, that by

the use of this little crutch alone he will be enabled to

walk or stumble through the foreign ways of the simplest

Hawaiian _mele_. Notes, often copious, have been appended to

many of the mele, designed to exhaust neither the subject nor

the reader, but to answer some of the questions of the

intelligent thinker.

Thanks, many thanks, are due, first, to those native

Hawaiians who have so far broken with the old superstitious

tradition of concealment as to unearth so much of the

unwritten literary wealth stored in Hawaiian memories;

second, to those who have kindly contributed criticism,

suggestion, material at the different stages of this book’s

progress; and, lastly, to those dear friends of the author’s

youth—living or dead—whose kindness has made it possible to

send out this fledgling to the world. The author feels under

special obligations to Dr. Titus Munson Coan, of New York,

for a painstaking revision of the manuscript.

HONOLULU, HAWAII.

[Page 10][Blank]

[Page 11]

LITERATURE OF HAWAII

By NATHANIEL B. EMERSON

I.—THE HULA

One turns from the study of old genealogies, myths, and

traditions of the Hawaiians with a hungry despair at finding

in them means so small for picturing the people themselves,

their human interests and passions; but when it comes to the

hula and the whole train of feelings and sentiments that made

their entrances and exits in the _halau_ (the hall of the

hula) one perceives that in this he has found the door to the

heart of the people. So intimate and of so simple confidence

are the revelations the people make of themselves in their

songs and prattlings that when one undertakes to report what

he has heard and to translate into the terms of modern speech

what he has received in confidence, as it were, he almost

blushes, as if he had been guilty of spying on Adam and Eve

in their nuptial bower. Alas, if one could but muffle his

speech with the unconscious lisp of infancy, or veil and tone

his picture to correspond to the perspective of antiquity, he

might feel at least that, like Watteau, he had dealt

worthily, if not truly, with that ideal age which we ever

think of as the world’s garden period.

The Hawaiians, it is true, were many removes from being

primitives; their dreams, however, harked back to a period

that was close to the world’s infancy. Their remote ancestry

was, perhaps, akin to ours—Aryan, at least Asiatic—but the

orbit of their evolution seems to have led them away from the

strenuous discipline that has whipped the Anglo-Saxon branch

into fighting shape with fortune.

If one comes to the study of the hula and its songs in the

spirit of a censorious moralist he will find nothing for him;

if as a pure ethnologist, he will take pleasure in pointing

out the physical resemblances of the Hawaiian dance to the

languorous grace of the Nautch girls, of the geisha, and

other oriental dancers. But if he comes as a student and

lover of human nature, back of the sensuous posturings, in

the emotional language of the songs he will find himself

entering the playground of the human race.

The hula was a religious service, in which poetry, music,

pantomime, and the dance lent themselves, under the forms of

[Page 12] dramatic art, to the refreshment of men’s minds. Its view of

life was idyllic, and it gave itself to the celebration of

those mythical times when gods and goddesses moved on the

earth as men and women and when men and women were as gods.

As to subject-matter, its warp was spun largely from the

bowels of the old-time mythology into cords through which the

race maintained vital connection with its mysterious past.

Interwoven with these, forming the woof, were threads of a

thousand hues and of many fabrics, representing the

imaginations of the poet, the speculations of the

philosopher, the aspirations of many a thirsty soul, as well

as the ravings and flame-colored pictures of the sensualist,

the mutterings and incantations of the _kahuna_, the

mysteries and paraphernalia of Polynesian mythology, the

annals of the nation’s history—the material, in fact, which

in another nation and under different circumstances would

have gone to the making of its poetry, its drama, its opera,

its literature.

The people were superstitiously religious; one finds their

drama saturated with religious feeling, hedged about with

tabu, loaded down with prayer and sacrifice. They were

poetical; nature was full of voices for their ears; their

thoughts came to them as images; nature was to them an

allegory; all this found expression in their dramatic art.

They were musical; their drama must needs be cast in forms to

suit their ideas of rhythm, of melody, and of poetic harmony.

They were, moreover, the children of passion, sensuous,

worshipful of whatever lends itself to pleasure. How, then,

could the dramatic efforts of this primitive people, still in

the bonds of animalism, escape the note of passion? The songs

and other poetic pieces which have come down to us from the

remotest antiquity are generally inspired with a purer

sentiment and a loftier purpose than the modern; and it may

be said of them all that when they do step into the mud it is

not to tarry and wallow in it; it is rather with the

unconscious naiveté of a child thinking no evil.

On the principle of “the terminal conversion of opposites,”

which the author once heard an old philosopher expound, the

most advanced modern is better able to hark back to the

sweetness and light and music of the primeval world than the

veriest wigwam-dweller that ever chipped an arrowhead. It is

not so much what the primitive man can give us as what we can

find in him that is worth our while. The light that a Goethe,

a Thoreau, or a Kipling can project into Arcadia is mirrored

in his own nature.

If one mistakes not the temper and mind of this generation,

we are living in an age that is not content to let perish one

seed of thought or one single phase of life that can be

rescued from the drift of time. We mourn the extinction of

the buffalo of the plains and of the birds of the islands,

[Page 13] rightly thinking that life is somewhat less rich and full

without them. What of the people of the plains and of the

islands of the sea? Is their contribution so nothingless that

one can affirm that the orbit of man’s mind is complete

without it?

Comparison is unavoidable between the place held by the dance

in ancient Hawaii and that occupied by the dance in our

modern society. The ancient Hawaiians did not personally and

informally indulge in the dance for their own amusement, as

does pleasure-loving society at the present time. Like the

Shah of Persia, but for very different reasons, Hawaiians of

the old time left it to be done for them by a body of trained

and paid performers. This was not because the art and

practice of the hula were held in disrepute—quite the

reverse—but because the hula was an accomplishment requiring

special education and arduous training in both song and

dance, and more especially because it was a religious matter,

to be guarded against profanation by the observance of tabus

and the performance of priestly rites.

This fact, which we find paralleled in every form of communal

amusement, sport, and entertainment in ancient Hawaii, sheds

a strong light on the genius of the Hawaiian. We are wont to

think of the old-time Hawaiians as light-hearted children of

nature, given to spontaneous outbursts of song and dance as

the mood seized them; quite as the rustics of “merrie

England” joined hands and tripped “the light fantastic toe”

in the joyous month of May or shouted the harvest home at a

later season. The genius of the Hawaiian was different. With

him the dance was an affair of premeditation, an organized

effort, guarded by the traditions of a somber religion. And

this characteristic, with qualifications, will be found to

belong to popular Hawaiian sport and amusement of every

variety. Exception must be made, of course, of the

unorganized sports of childhood. One is almost inclined to

generalize and to say that those children of nature, as we

are wont to call them, in this regard were less free and

spontaneous than the more advanced race to which we are proud

to belong. But if the approaches to the temple of Terpsichore

with them were more guarded, we may confidently assert that

their enjoyment therein was deeper and more abandoned.

[Page 14]

II.—THE HALAU; THE KUAHU—THEIR DECORATION

AND CONSECRATION

THE HALAU

In building a halau, or hall, in which to perform the hula a

Hawaiian of the old, old time was making a temple for his

god. In later and degenerate ages almost any structure would

serve the purpose; it might be a flimsy shed or an

extemporaneous _lanai_ such as is used to shelter that _al

fresco_ entertainment, the _luau_. But in the old times of

strict tabu and rigorous etiquette, when the chief had but to

lift his hand and the entire population of a district

ransacked plain, valley, and mountain to collect the poles,

beams, thatch, and cordstuff; when the workers were so

numerous that the structure grew and took shape in a day, we

may well believe that ambitious and punctilious patrons of

the hula, such as La’a, Liloa, or Lono-i-ka-makahiki, did not

allow the divine art of Laka to house in a barn.

The choice of a site was a matter of prime importance. A

formidable code enunciated the principles governing the

selection. But—a matter of great solicitude—there were

omens to be heeded, snares and pitfalls devised by the

superstitious mind for its own entanglement. The untimely

sneeze, the ophthalmic eye, the hunched back were omens to be

shunned.

Within historic times, since the abrogation of the tabu

system and the loosening of the old polytheistic ideas, there

has been in the hula a lowering of former standards, in some

respects a degeneration. The old gods, however, were not

entirely dethroned; the people of the hula still continued to

maintain the form of divine service and still appealed to

them for good luck; but the soul of worship had exhaled; the

main study now was to make of the hula a pecuniary success.

In an important sense the old way was in sympathy with the

thought, “Except God be with the workmen, they labor in vain

that build the house.” The means for gaining divine favor and

averting the frown of the gods were those practised by all

religionists in the infantile state of the human mind—the

observance of fasts and tabus, the offering of special

prayers and sacrifices. The ceremonial purification of the

site, or of the building if it had been used for profane

purposes, was accomplished by aspersions with sea water mixed

with turmeric or red earth.

[Page 15]

When one considers the tenacious hold which all rites and

ceremonies growing out of what we are accustomed to call

superstitions had on the mind of the primitive Hawaiian, it

puzzles one to account for the entire dropping out from

modern memory of the prayers which were recited during the

erection of a hall for the shelter of an institution so

festive and so popular as the hula, while the prayers and

gloomy ritual of the temple service have survived. The

explanation may be found, perhaps, in the fact that the

priests of the temple held position by the sovereign’s

appointment; they formed a hierarchy by themselves, whereas

the position of the _kumu-hula_, who was also a priest, was

open to anyone who fitted himself for it by training and

study and by passing successfully the _ai-lolo_[2] ordeal.

After that he had the right to approach the altar of the hula

god with the prescribed offerings and to present the prayers

and petitions of the company to Laka or Kapo.

[Footnote 2: _Ai-lolo_. See pp. 32, 34, 36.]

In pleasing contrast to the worship of the _heiau_, the

service of the hula was not marred by the presence of

groaning victims and bloody sacrifices. Instead we find the

offerings to have been mostly rustic tokens, things entirely

consistent with light-heartedness, joy, and ecstasy of

devotion, as if to celebrate the fact that heaven had come

down to earth and Pan, with all the nymphs, was dancing.

During the time the halau was building the tabus and rules

that regulated conduct were enforced with the utmost

strictness. The members of the company were required to

maintain the greatest propriety of demeanor, to suppress all

rudeness of speech and manner, to abstain from all carnal

indulgence, to deny themselves specified articles of food,

and above all to avoid contact with a corpse. If anyone, even

by accident, suffered such defilement, before being received

again into fellowship or permitted to enter the halau and

take part in the exercises he must have ceremonial cleansing

(_huikala_). The _kumu_ offered up prayers, sprinkled the

offender with salt water and turmeric, commanded him to bathe

in the ocean, and he was clean. If the breach of discipline

was gross and willful, an act of outrageous violence or the

neglect of tabu, the offender could be restored only after

penitence and confession.

THE KUAHU

In every halau stood the _kuahu_, or altar, as the visible

temporary abode of the deity, whose presence was at once the

inspiration of the performance and the luck-bringer of the

enterprise—a rustic frame embowered in greenery. The

gathering of the green leaves and other sweet finery of

[Page 16] nature for its construction and decoration was a matter of so

great importance that it could not be intrusted to any chance

assemblage of wild youth who might see fit to take the work

in hand. There were formalities that must be observed, songs

to be chanted, prayers to be recited. It was necessary to

bear in mind that when one deflowered the woods of their

fronds of _íe-íe_ and fern or tore the trailing lengths of

_maile_—albeit in honor of Laka herself—the body of the

goddess was being despoiled, and the despoiling must be done

with all tactful grace and etiquette.

It must not be gathered from this that the occasion was made

solemn and oppressive with weight of ceremony, as when a

temple was erected or as when a tabu chief walked abroad, and

all men lay with their mouths in the dust. On the contrary,

it was a time of joy and decorous exultation, a time when in

prayer-songs and ascriptions of praise the poet ransacked all

nature for figures and allusions to be used in caressing the

deity.

The following adulatory prayer (_kánaenáe_) in adoration of

Laka was recited while gathering the woodland decorations for

the altar. It is worthy of preservation for its intrinsic

beauty, for the spirit of trustfulness it breathes. We remark

the petitions it utters for the growth of tree and shrub, as

if Laka had been the alma mater under whose influence all

nature budded and rejoiced.

It would seem as if the physical ecstasy of the dance and the

sensuous joy of all nature’s finery had breathed their spirit

into the aspiration and that the beauty of leaf and flower,

all of them familiar forms of the god’s

metamorphosis—accessible to their touch and for the

regalement of their senses—had brought such nearness and

dearness, of affection between goddess and worshiper that all

fear was removed.

_He kánaenáe no Laka_

A ke kua-hiwi, i ke kua-lono,

Ku ana o Laka i ka mauna;

Noho ana o Laka i ke po’o o ka ohu.

O Laka kumu hula,

5 Nana i a’e ka wao-kele,[3]

Kahi, kahi i moli’a i ka pua’a,

I ke po’o pua’a,

He pua’a hiwa na Kane.[4]

[Page 17] He kane na Laka,

10 Na ka wahine i oni a kelakela i ka lani:

I kupu ke a’a i ke kumu,

I lau a puka ka mu’o,

Ka liko, ka ao i-luna.

Kupu ka lala, hua ma ka Hikina;

15 Kupu ka laau ona a Maka-li’i,[5]

O Maka-lei,[6] laau kaulana mai ka Po mai.[7]

Mai ka Po mai ka oiaio—

I ho-i’o i-luna, i o’o i-luna.

He luna au e ki’i mai nei ia oe, e Laka,

20 E ho’i ke ko-kua[8] pa-ú;

He la uniki[9] e no kaua;

Ha-ike-ike[10] o ke Akua;

Hoike ka mana o ka Wahine,

O Laka, kaikuahine,

25 Wahine a Lono i ka ou-alii.[11]

E Lono, e hu’[12] ia mai ka lani me ka honua.

Nou okoa Kukulu o Kahiki.[13]

Me ke ano-ai[14] i aloha, e!

E ola, e!

[Footnote 3: _Wao-kele_. That portion of the mountain forest

where grew the monarch trees was called _wao-kele_ or

_wao-maukele_.]

[Footnote 4: _Na Kane_. Why was the offering, the black roast

porkling, said to be for Kane, who was not a special patron,

_au-makúa_, of the hula? The only answer the author has been

able to obtain from any Hawaiian is that, though Kane was not

a god of the hula, he was a near relative. On reflection, the

author can see a propriety in devoting the reeking flesh of

the swine to god Kane, while to the sylvan deity, Lâkâ,

goddess of the peaceful hula, were devoted the rustic

offerings that were the embodiment of her charms. Her image,

or token—an uncarved block of wood—was set up in a

prominent part of the _kuahu_, and at the close of a

performance the wreaths that had been worn by the actors were

draped about the image. Thus viewed, there is a delicate

propriety and significance in such disposal of the pig.]

[Footnote 5: _Maka-li’i_ (Small eyes). The Pleiades; also the

period of six months, including the rainy season, that began

some time in October or November and was reckoned from the

date when the Pleiades appeared in the East at sunset.

_Maka-li’i_ was also the name of a month, by some reckoned as

the first month of the year.]

[Footnote 6: _Maka-léi_. The name of a famous mythological

tree which had the power of attracting fish. It did not

poison, but only bewitched or fascinated them. There were two

trees bearing this name, one a male, the other a female,

which both grew at a place in Hilo called Pali-uli. One of

these, the female, was, according to tradition, carried from

its root home to the fish ponds in Kailua, Oahu, for the

purpose of attracting fish to the neighboring waters. The

enterprise was eminently successful.]

[Footnote 7: _Po_. Literally night; the period in cosmogony

when darkness and chaos reigned, before the affairs on earth

had become settled under the rule of the gods. Here the word

is used to indicate a period of remote mythologic antiquity.

The use of the word _Po_ in the following verse reminds one

of the French adage, “La nuit porte conseil.”]

[Footnote 8: _Kokúa_. Another form for _kakúa_, to gird on

the _pa-ú_. (See _Pa-ú_ song, pp. 51–53.)]

[Footnote 9: _Uníki_. A word not given in the dictionary. The

debut of an actor at the hula, after passing the _ai-lolo_

test and graduating from the school of the halau, a critical

event.]

[Footnote 10: _Ha-íke-íke_. Equivalent to _ho-íke-íke_, an

exhibition, to exhibit.]

[Footnote 11: _Ou-alii_. The Hawaiians seem to have lost the

meaning of this word. The author has been at some pains to

work it out somewhat conjecturally.]

[Footnote 12: _E Lono, e hu’ ia, mai, etc_. The unelided form

of the word _hu’_ would be _hui_. The final _i_ is dropped

before the similar vowel of _ia_.]

[Footnote 13: _Kukúlu o Kahíki_. The pillars of Kahiki. The

ancient Hawaiians supposed the starry heavens to be a solid

dome supported by a wall or vertical

construction—_kukulu_—set up along the horizon. That

section of the wall that stood over against Kahiki they

termed _Kukulu o Kahiki_. Our geographical name Tahiti is of

course from Kahiki, though it does not apply to the same

region. After the close of what has been termed “the period

of intercourse,” which, came probably during the twelfth and

thirteenth centuries, and during which the ancient Hawaiians

voyaged to and fro between Hawaii and the lands of the South,

geographical ideas became hazy and the term _Kahiki_ came to

be applied to any foreign country.]

[Footnote 14: _Áno-ái_. An old form of salutation, answering

in general to the more modern word aloha, much used at the

present time. _Ano-ai_ seems to have had a shade of meaning

more nearly answering to our word “welcome.” This is the

first instance the author has met with of its use in poetry.]

[Page 18]

[Translation.]

_A Prayer of Adulation to Laka_

In the forests, on the ridges

Of the mountains stands Laka;

Dwelling in the source of the mists.

Laka, mistress of the hula,

5 Has climbed the wooded haunts of the gods,

Altars hallowed by the sacrificial swine,

The head of the boar, the black boar of Kane.

A partner he with Laka;

Woman, she by strife gained rank in heaven.

10 That the root may grow from the stem,

That the young shoot may put forth and leaf,

Pushing up the fresh enfolded bud,

The scion-thrust bud and fruit toward the East,

Like the tree that bewitches the winter fish,

15 Maka-lei, tree famed from the age of night.

Truth is the counsel of night—

May it fruit and ripen above.

A messenger I bring you, O Laka,

To the girding of paû.

20 An opening festa this for thee and me;

To show the might of the god,

The power of the goddess,

Of Laka, the sister,

To Lono a wife in the heavenly courts.

25 O Lono, join heaven and earth!

Thine alone are the pillars of Kahiki.

Warm greeting, beloved one,

We hail thee!

The cult of god Lono was milder, more humane, than that of

Kane and the other major gods. No human sacrifices were

offered on his altars.—The statement in verse 26 accords

with the general belief of the Hawaiians that Lono dwelt in

foreign parts, _Kukulu o Kahiki_, and that he would some time

come to them from across the waters. When Captain Cook

arrived in his ships, the Hawaiians worshiped him as the god

Lono.

[Illustration: IE-IE (FREYCINETIA ARNOTTI) LEAVES AND FRUIT]

The following song-prayer also is one that was used at the

gathering of the greenery in the mountains and during the

building of the altar in the halau. When recited in the halau

all the pupils took part, and the chorus was a response in

which the whole assembly in the halau were expected to join:

_Pule Kuahu no Laka_

Haki pu o ka nahelehele,

Haki hana maile o ka wao,

[Page 19] Hooulu[15] lei ou, o Laka, e!

O Hiiaka[16] ke kaula nana e hooulu na ma’i,

5 A aeae a ulu[17] a noho i kou kuahu,

Eia ka pule la, he pule ola,

He noi ola nou, e-e!

_Chorus:_

E ola ia makou, aohe hala!

[Translation.]

_Altar-Prayer to Laka_

This spoil and rape of the wildwood,

This plucking of wilderness maile—

Collect of garlands, Laka, for you.

Hiiaka, the prophet, heals our diseases.

5 Enter, possess, inspire your altar;

Heed our prayer, ’tis for life;

Our petition to you is for life.

_Chorus:_

Give us life, save from transgression!

[Footnote 15: _Hoo-ulu_. This word has a considerable range of

meaning, well illustrated in this mele. In its simplest form,

_ulu_, it means to grow, to become strong. Joined with the

causative _hoo_, as here, it takes on the spiritual meaning

of causing to prosper, of inspiring. The word “collect,” used

in the translation, has been chosen to express the double

sense of gathering the garlands and of devoting them to the

goddess as a religious offering. In the fourth verse this

word, _hooulu_, is used in the sense of to heal. Compare note

_c_.]

[Footnote 16: _Hiiaka_. The youngest sister of Pele, often

spoken of as _Hiiaka-i-ka-poli-o-Pele_,

Hiiaka-of-the-bosom-of-Pele. Why she should be spoken of as

capable of healing diseases is not at all clear.]

[Footnote 17: _Ulu_. Here we have the word _ulu_ in its

simple, uncombined form, meaning to enter into and inspire.]

The wildwoods of Hawaii furnished in great abundance and

variety small poles for the framework of the kuahu, the

altar, the holy place of the halau, and sweet-scented leaves

and flowers suitable for its decoration. A spirit of fitness,

however, limited choice among these to certain species that

were deemed acceptable to the goddess because they were

reckoned as among her favorite forms of metamorphosis. To go

outside this ordained and traditional range would have been

an offense, a sacrilege. This critical spirit would have

looked with the greatest disfavor on the practice that in

modern times has crept in, of bedecking the dancers with

garlands of roses, pinks, jessamine, and other nonindigenous

flowers, as being utterly repugnant to the traditional spirit

of the hula.

Among decorations approved and most highly esteemed stood

pre-eminent the fragrant maile (pl. IV) and the star-like

fronds and ruddy drupe of the _íe-íe_ (pl. II) and its

kindred, the _hála-pépe_ (pl. III); the scarlet pompons of

the _lehúa_ (pl. XIII) and _ohi’a_, with the fruit of the

latter (the mountain-apple); many varieties of fern,

including that splendid parasite, the “bird’s nest fern”

[Page 20] (_ekáha_), hailed by the Hawaiians as Mawi’s paddle; to which

must be added the commoner leaves and lemon-colored flowers

of the native hibiscus, the _hau_, the breadfruit, the native

banana and the dracæna (_ti_), plate V; and lastly, richest

of all, in the color that became Hawaii’s favorite, the royal

yellow _ilíma_ (pl. VI), a flower familiar to the eyes of the

tourist to Honolulu.

While deft hands are building and weaving the light framework

of the kuahu, binding its parts with strong vines and

decorating it with nature’s sumptuous embroidery, the _kumu_,

or teacher, under the inspiration of the deity, for whose

residence he has prepared himself by long vigil and fasting

with fleshly abstinence, having spent the previous night

alone in the halau, is chanting or cantillating his adulatory

prayers, _kanaenae_—songs of praise they seem to be—to the

glorification of the gods and goddesses who are invited to

bless the occasion with their presence and inspiration, but

especially of that one, Laka, whose bodily presence is

symbolized by a rude block of wood arrayed in yellow tapa

that is set up on the altar itself. Thus does the kumu sing:

_Pule Kuahu_

Ei’ au e Laka mai uka,

E Laka mai kai;

O hooulu

O ka ilio[18] nana e hae,

5 O ka maile hihi i ka wao,

O ka lau-ki[19] lei o ke akua,

O na ku’i hauoli

O Ha’i-ka-manawa.[20]

O Laka oe,

10 O ke akua i ke kuahu nei, la;

E ho’i, ho’i mai a noho i kou kuahu!

[Translation.]

_Altar-Prayer_ (to Laka)

Here am I, oh Laka from the mountains,

Oh Laka from the shore;

Protect us

Against the dog that barks;

[Page 21] 5 Reside in the wild-twining maile

And the goddess-enwreathing ti.

All, the joyful pulses.

Of the woman Ha’i-ka-manawa!

Thou art Laka,

10 The god of this altar;

Return, return, abide in thy shrine!

[Footnote 18: _Ilio nana e hae_. The barking of a dog, the

crowing of a cock, the grunting of a pig, the hooting of an

owl, or any such sound occurring at the time of a religious

solemnity, _aha_, broke the spell of the incantation and

vitiated the ceremony. Such an untimely accident was as much

deprecated as were the Turk, the Comet, and the Devil by

pious Christian souls during the Middle Ages.]

[Footnote 19: _Lau-ki_. The leaf of the _ti_ plant—the

same as the _ki_—(Dracæna terminalis), much used as an emblem

of divine power, a charm or defense against malign spiritual

influences. The kahuna often wore about his neck a fillet of

this leaf. The _ti_ leaf was a special emblem of Ha’i-wahine,

or of Li’a-wahine. It was much used as a decoration about the

halau.]

[Footnote 20: _Ha’i-ka-manawa_. It is conjectured that this is

the same as Ha’i-wahine. She was a mythological character,

about whom there is a long and tragic story.]

The prayers which the hula folk of old times chanted while

gathering the material in the woods or while weaving it into

shape in the halau for the construction of a shrine did not

form a rigid liturgy; they formed rather a repertory as

elastic as the sighing of the breeze, or the songs of the

birds whose notes embroidered the pure mountain air. There

were many altar-prayers, so that if a prayer came to an end

before the work was done the priest had but to begin the

recitation of another prayer, or, if the spirit of the

occasion so moved him, he would take up again a prayer

already repeated, for until the work was entirely

accomplished the voice of prayer must continue to be heard.

The _pule_ now to be given seems to be specially suited to

that portion of the service which took place in the woods at

the gathering of the poles and greenery. It was designed

specially for the placating of the little god-folk who from

their number were addressed as _Kini o ke Akua_, the

multitude of the little gods, and who were the counterparts

in old Hawaii of our brownies, elfins, sprites, kobolds,

gnomes, and other woodland imps. These creatures, though

dwarfish and insignificant in person, were in such

numbers—four thousand, forty thousand, four hundred

thousand—and were so impatient of any invasion of their

territory, so jealous of their prerogatives, so spiteful and

revengeful when injured, that it was policy always to keep on

the right side of them.

_Pule Kuahu_

E hooulu ana I Kini[21] o ke Akua,

Ka lehu o ke Akua,

Ka mano o ke Akua,

I ka pu-ku’i o ke Akua,

5 I ka lalani Akua,

Ia ulu mai o Kane,

Ulu o Kanaloa;

Ulu ka ohia, lau ka ie-ie;

Ulu ke Akua, noho i ke kahua,

10 A a’ea’e, a ulu, a noho kou kuahu.

Eia ka pule la, he pule ola.

_Chorus:_

E ola ana oe!

[Footnote 21: _Kini o ke Akua._ See note _d_, p. 24.]

[Page 22]

[Translation.]

_Altar-Prayer_

Invoke we now the four thousand,

The myriads four of the nimble,

The four hundred thousand elves,

The countless host of sprites,

5 Rank upon rank of woodland gods.

Pray, Kane, also inspire us;

Kanaloa, too, join the assembly.

Now grows the _ohi’a_, now leafs _ie-ie_;

God enters, resides in the place;

10 He mounts, inspires, abides in the shrine.

This is our prayer, our plea this for life!

_Chorus:_

Life shall be thine!

From one point of view these _pule_ are not to be regarded as

prayers in the ordinary sense of the word, but rather as

song-offerings, verbal bouquets, affectionate sacrifices to

the gods.

[Page 23]

III.—THE GODS OF THE HULA.

Of what nature were the gods of the old times, and how did

the ancient Hawaiians conceive of them? As of beings having

the form, the powers, and the passions of humanity, yet

standing above and somewhat apart from men. One sees, as

through a mist, darkly, a figure, standing, moving; in shape

a plant, a tree or vine-clad stump, a bird, a taloned

monster, a rock carved by the fire-queen, a human form, a

puff of vapor—and now it has given place to vacancy. It was

a goddess, perhaps of the hula. In the solitude of the

wilderness one meets a youthful being of pleasing address, of

godlike wit, of elusive beauty; the charm of her countenance

unspoken authority, her gesture command. She seems one with

nature, yet commanding it. Food placed before her remains

untasted; the oven, _imu_,[22] in which the fascinated host

has heaped his abundance, preparing for a feast, when opened

is found empty; the guest of an hour has disappeared. Again

it was a goddess, perhaps of the hula. Or, again, a traveler

meets a creature of divine beauty, all smiles and loveliness.

The infatuated mortal, smitten with hopeless passion, offers

blandishments; he finds himself by the roadside embracing a

rock. It was a goddess of the hula.

The gods, great and small, superior and inferior, whom the

devotees and practitioners of the hula worshiped and sought

to placate were many; but the goddess Laka was the one to

whom they offered special prayers and sacrifices and to whom

they looked as the patron, the _au-makua_,[23] of that

institution. It was for her benefit and in her honor that the

kuahu was set up, and the wealth of flower and leaf used in

its decoration was emblematic of her beauty and glory, a

pledge of her bodily presence, the very forms that she, a

sylvan deity, was wont to assume when she pleased to manifest

herself.

As an additional crutch to the imagination and to emphasize

the fact of her real presence on the altar which she had been

invoked to occupy as her abode, she was symbolized by an

uncarved block of wood from the sacred _lama_[24] tree. This

was wrapped in a robe of choice yellow tapa, scented with

turmeric, and set conspicuously upon the altar.

[Footnote 22: _Imu_. The Hawaiian oven, which was a hole in

the ground lined and arched over with stones.]

[Footnote 23: _Au-makua_. An ancestral god.]

[Footnote 24: _Lama_. A beautiful tree having firm,

fine-grained, white wood; used in making sacred inclosures

and for other tabu purposes.]

[Page 24]

Laka was invoked as the god of the maile, the ie-ie, and

other wildwood growths before mentioned (pl. II). She was

hailed as the “sister, wife, of god Lono,” as “the one who by

striving attained favor with the gods of the upper ether;” as

“the kumu[25] hula”—head teacher of the Terpsichorean art;

“the fount of joy;” “the prophet who brings health to the

sick;” “the one whose presence gives life.” In one of the

prayers to Laka she is besought to come and take possession

of the worshiper, to dwell in him as in a temple, to inspire

him in all his parts and faculties—voice, hands, feet, the

whole body.

Laka seems to have been a friend, but not a relative, of the

numerous Pele family. So far as the author has observed, the

fiery goddess is never invited to grace the altar with her

presence, nor is her name so much as mentioned in any prayer

met with.

To compare the gods of the Hawaiian pantheon with those of

classic Greece, the sphere occupied by Laka corresponds most

nearly to that filled by Terpsichore and Euterpe, the muses,

respectively, of dance and of song. Lono, in one song spoken

of as the husband of Laka, had features in common with

Apollo.

That other gods, Kane, Ku, Kanaloa,[26] with Lono,

Ku-pulupulu,[27] and the whole swarm of godlings that peopled

the wildwood, were also invited to favor the performances

with their presence can be satisfactorily explained on the

ground, first, that all the gods were in a sense members of

one family, related to each other by intermarriage, if not by

the ties of kinship; and, second, by the patent fact of that

great underlying cause of bitterness and strife among

immortals as well as mortals, jealousy. It would have been an

eruptive occasion of heart-burning and scandal if by any

mischance a privileged one should have had occasion to feel

slighted; and to have failed in courtesy to that countless

host of wilderness imps and godlings, the _Kini Akua_,[28]

mischievous and irreverent as the monkeys of India, would

indeed have been to tempt a disaster.

While it is true that the testimony of the various

_kumu-hula_, teachers of the hula, and devotees of the art of

the hula, so far as the author has talked with them, has been

overwhelmingly to the effect that Laka was the one and only

divine patron of the art known to them, there has been a

small number equally ready to assert that there were those

who observed the cult of the goddess Kapo and worshiped her

[Page 25] as the patron of the hula. The positive testimony of these

witnesses must be reckoned as of more weight than the

negative testimony of a much larger number, who either have

not seen or will not look at the other side of the shield. At

any rate, among the prayers before the kuahu, of which there

are others yet to be presented, will be found several

addressed to Kapo as the divine patron of the hula.

[Footnote 25: The teacher, a leader and priest of the hula.

The modern school-master is called _kumu-kula_.]

[Footnote 26: _Kanaloa_. Kane, Ku, Kanaloa, and Lono were the

major gods of the Hawaiian pantheon.]

[Footnote 27: _Ku-pulupulu_. A god of the canoe-makers.]

[Footnote 28: _Kini Akua_. A general expression—often used

together with the ones that follow—meaning the countless

swarms of brownies, elfs, kobolds, sprites, and other

godlings (mischievous imps) that peopled the wilderness.

_Kini_ means literally 40,000, _lehu_ 400,000, and _mano_

4,000. See the _Pule Kuahu_—altar-prayer—on page 21. The

Hawaiians, curiously enough, did not put the words _mano_,

_kini_, and _lehu_ in the order of their numerical value.]

[Illustration:

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 38 PLATE III

HÁLA-PÉPE (DRACÆNA AUREA) ]

Kapo was sister of Pele and the daughter of Haumea.[29] Among

other roles played by her, like Laka she was at times a

sylvan deity, and it was in the garb of woodland

representations that she was worshiped by hula folk. Her

forms of activity, corresponding to her different

metamorphoses, were numerous, in one of which she was at

times “employed by the _kahuna_[30] as a messenger in their

black arts, and she is claimed by many as an _aumakua_,” [31]

said to be the sister of Kalai-pahoa, the poison god.

[Footnote 29: _Haumea_. The ancient goddess, or ancestor, the

sixth in line of descent from Wakea.]

[Footnote 30: _Kahuna._ A sorcerer; with a qualifying

adjective it meant a skilled craftsman; _Kahuna-kalai-wa’a_

was a canoe-builder; _kahuna lapaau_ was a medicine-man, a

doctor, etc.]

[Footnote 31: The Lesser Gods of Hawaii, a paper by Joseph S.

Emerson, read before the Hawaiian Historical Society, April

7, 1892.]

Unfortunately Kapo had an evil name on account of a

propensity which led her at times to commit actions that seem

worthy only of a demon of lewdness. This was, however, only

the hysteria of a moment, not the settled habit of her life.

On one notable occasion, by diverting the attention of the

bestial pig-god Kama-pua’a, and by vividly presenting to him

a temptation well adapted to his gross nature, she succeeded

in enticing him away at a critical moment, and thus rescued

her sister Pele at a time when the latter’s life was

imperiled by an unclean and violent assault from the

swine-god.

Like Catherine of Russia, who in one mood was the patron of

literature and of the arts and sciences and in another mood a

very satyr, so the Hawaiian goddess Kapo seems to have lived

a double life whose aims were at cross purposes with one

another—now an angel of grace and beauty, now a demon of

darkness and lust.

Do we not find in this the counterpart of nature’s twofold

aspect, who presents herself to dependent humanity at one

time as an alma mater, the food-giver, a divinity of joy and

comfort, at another time as the demon of the storm and

earthquake, a plowshare of fiery destruction?

The name of Hiiaka, the sister of Pele, is one often

mentioned in the prayers of the hula.

[Page 26]

IV.—SUPPORT AND ORGANIZATION OF THE HULA

In ancient times the hula to a large extent was a creature of

royal support, and for good reason. The actors in this

institution were not producers of life’s necessaries. To the

_alii_ belonged the land and the sea and all the useful

products thereof. Even the jetsam whale-tooth and wreckage

scraps of iron that ocean cast up on the shore were claimed

by the lord of the land. Everything was the king’s. Thus it

followed of necessity that the support of the hula must in

the end rest upon the alii. As in ancient Rome it was a

senator or general, enriched by the spoil of a province, who

promoted the sports of the arena, so in ancient Hawaii it was

the chief or headman of the district who took the initiative

in the promotion of the people’s communistic sports and of

the hula.

We must not imagine that the hula was a thing only of kings’

courts and chiefish residences. It had another and democratic

side. The passion for the hula was broadspread. If other

agencies failed to meet the demand, there was nothing to

prevent a company of enthusiasts from joining themselves

together in the pleasures and, it might be, the profits of

the hula. Their spokesman—designated as the _po’o-puaa_,

from the fact that a pig, or a boar’s head, was required of

him as an offering at the kuahu—was authorized to secure the

services of some expert to be their kumu. But with the hula

all roads lead to the king’s court.

Let us imagine a scene at the king’s residence. The alii,

rousing from his sloth and rubbing his eyes, rheumy with

debauch and _awa_, overhears remark on the doings of a new

company of hula dancers who have come into the neighborhood.

He summons his chief steward.

“What is this new thing of which they babble?” he demands.

“It is nothing, son of heaven,” answers the kneeling steward.

“They spoke of a hula. Tell me, what is it?”

“Ah, thou heaven-born (_lani_), it was but a trifle—a new

company, young graduates of the halau, have set themselves up

as great ones; mere rustics; they have no proper acquaintance

with the traditions of the art as taught by the bards of...

your majesty’s father. They mouth and twist the old songs

all awry, thou son of heaven.”

“Enough. I will hear them to-morrow. Send a messenger for

this new kumu. Fill again my bowl with awa.”

[Page 27]

Thus it comes about that the new hula company gains audience

at court and walks the road that, perchance, leads to

fortune. Success to the men and women of the hula means not

merely applause, in return for the incense of flattery; it

means also a shower of substantial favors—food, garments,

the smile of royalty, perhaps land—things that make life a

festival. If welcome grows cold and it becomes evident that

the harvest has been reaped, they move on to fresh woods and

pastures new.

To return from this apparent digression, it was at the king’s

court—if we may extend the courtesy of this phrase to a

group of thatched houses—that were gathered the bards and

those skilled in song, those in whose memories were stored

the mythologies, traditions, genealogies, proverbial wisdom,

and poetry that, warmed by emotion, was the stuff from which

was spun the songs of the hula. As fire is produced by

friction, so it was often by the congress of wits rather than

by the flashing of genius that the songs of the hula were

evolved.

The composition and criticism of a poetical passage were a

matter of high importance, often requiring many suggestions

and much consultation. If the poem was to be a _mele-inoa_, a

name-song to eulogize some royal or princely scion, it must

contain no word of ill-omen. The fate-compelling power of

such a word, once shot from the mouth, was beyond recall.

Like the incantation of the sorcerer, the _kahuna ánaaná_, it

meant death to the eulogized one. If not, it recoiled on the

life of the singer.

The verbal form once settled, it remained only to stereotype

it on the memories of the men and women who constituted the

literary court or conclave. Think not that only thus were

poems produced in ancient Hawaii. The great majority of songs

were probably the fruit of solitary inspiration, in which the

bard poured out his heart like a song-bird, or uttered his

lone vision as a seer. The method of poem production in

conclave may be termed the official method. It was often done

at the command of an alii. So much for the fabrication, the

weaving, of a song.

If the composition was intended as a eulogy, it was

cantillated ceremoniously before the one it honored; if in

anticipation of a prince yet unborn, it was daily recited

before the mother until the hour of her delivery; and this

cantillation published it abroad. If the song was for

production in the hula, it lay warm in the mind of the kumu,

the master and teacher of the hula, until such time as he had

organized his company.

The court of the alii was a vortex that drew in not only the

bards and men of lore, but the gay and fashionable rout of

pleasure-seekers, the young men and women of shapely form and

gracious presence, the sons and daughters of the king’s

[Page 28] henchmen and favorites; among them, perhaps, the offspring of

the king’s morganatic alliances and amours—the flower and

pick of Hawaii’s youth. From these the kumu selected those

most fitted by beauty and grace of form, as well as quickness

of wit and liveliness of imagination, to take part in the

hula.

The performers in the hula were divided into two classes, the

_olapa_—agile ones—and the _ho’o-paa_—steadfast ones. The

rôle of olapa, as was fitting, was assigned to the young men

and young women who could best illustrate in their persons

the grace and beauty of the human form. It was theirs,

sometimes while singing, to move and pose and gesture in the

dance; sometimes also to punctuate their song and action with

the lighter instruments of music. The rôle of ho’o-paa, on

the other hand, was given to men and women of greater

experience and of more maturity. They handled the heavier

instruments and played their parts mostly while sitting or

kneeling, marking the time with their instrumentation. They

also lent their voices to swell the chorus or utter the

refrain of certain songs, sometimes taking the lead in the

song or bearing its whole burden, while the light-footed

olapa gave themselves entirely to the dance. The part of the

ho’o-paa was indeed the heavier, the more exacting duty.

Such was the personnel of a hula troupe when first gathered

by the hula-master for training and drill in the halau, now

become a school for the hula. Among the pupils the kumu was

sure to find some old hands at the business, whose presence,

like that of veterans in a squad of recruits, was a leaven to

inspire the whole company with due respect for the spirit and

traditions of the historic institution and to breed in the

members the patience necessary to bring them to the highest

proficiency.

The instruction of the kumu, as we are informed, took a wide

range. It dealt in elaborate detail on such matters as

accent, inflection, and all that concerns utterance and

vocalization. It naturally paid great attention to gesture

and pose, attitude and bodily action. That it included

comment on the meaning that lay back of the words may be

gravely doubted. The average hula dancer of modern times

shows great ignorance of the mele he recites, and this is

true even of the kumu-hula. His work too often is largely

perfunctory, a matter of sound and form, without appeal to

the intellect.

It would not be legitimate, however, to conclude from this

that ignorance of the meaning was the rule in old times;

those were the days when the nation’s traditional songs,

myths, and lore formed the equipment of every alert and

receptive mind, chief or commoner. There was no printed page

to while away the hours of idleness. The library was stored

in one’s memory. The language of the mele, which now has

[Page 29] become antiquated, then was familiar speech. For a kumu-hula

to have given instruction in the meaning of a song would have

been a superfluity, as if one at the present day were to

inform a group of well-educated actors and actresses who was

Pompey or Julius Cæsar.

“Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you,

trippingly on the tongue.” Hamlet’s words to the players

were, it may be supposed, the substance of the kumu’s

instructions to the pupils in his halau.

The organization of a hula company was largely democratic.

The kumu—in modern sense, the teacher—was the leader and

conductor, responsible for the training and discipline of the

company. He was the business manager of the enterprise; the

priest, _kahuna_, the leader in the religious exercises, the

one who interpreted the will of heaven, especially of the

gods whose favor determined success. He might be called to

his position by the choice of the company, appointed by the

command of the alii who promoted the enterprise, or

self-elected in case the enterprise was his own. He had under

him a _kokua kumu_, a deputy, who took charge during his

absence.

The _po’o-puaa_ was an officer chosen by the pupils to be

their special agent and mouthpiece. He saw to the execution

of the kumu’s judgments and commands, collected the fines,

and exacted the penalties imposed by the kumu. It fell to him

to convey to the altar the presents of garlands, awa, and the

like that were contributed to the halau.

The _paepae_, also chosen by the pupils, subject to

confirmation by the kumu, acted as an assistant of the

po’o-puaa. During the construction of the kuahu the po’o-puaa

stood to the right, the paepae at his left. They were in a

general sense guardians of the kuahu.

The _ho’o-ulu_ was the guard stationed at the door. He

sprinkled with sea-water mixed with turmeric everyone who

entered the halau. He also acted as sergeant-at-arms to keep

order and remove anyone who made a disturbance. It was his

duty each day to place a fresh bowl of awa on the altar of

the goddess (_hanai kuahu_), literally to feed the altar.

In addition to these officials, a hula company naturally

required the services of a miscellaneous retinue of stewards,

cooks, fishermen, hewers of wood, and drawers of water.

RULES OF CONDUCT AND TABUS

Without a body of rules, a strict penal code, and a firm hand

to hold in check the hot bloods of both sexes, it would have

been impossible to keep order and to accomplish the business

purpose of the organization. The explosive force of passion

would have made the gathering a signal for the breaking loose

of pandemonium. That it did not always so result is a

[Page 30] compliment alike to the self-restraint of the people and to

the sway that artistic ideals held over their minds, but,

above all, to a peculiar system of discipline wisely adapted

to the necessities of human nature. It does not seem likely

that a Thespian band of our own race would have held their

passions under equal check if surrounded by the same

temptations and given the same opportunities as these

Polynesians. It may well be doubted if the bare authority of

the kumu would have sufficed to maintain discipline and to

keep order, had it not been reenforced by the dread powers of

the spirit world in the shape of the _tabu_.

The awful grasp of this law; this repressive force, the tabu,

held fast the student from the moment of his entrance into

the halau. It denied this pleasure, shut off that innocent

indulgence, curtailed liberty in this direction and in that.

The tabu waved before his imagination like a flaming sword,

barring approach to the Eden of his strongest propensity.

The rules and discipline of the halau, the school for the

hula, from our point of view, were a mixture of shrewd common

sense and whimsical superstition. Under the head of tabus

certain articles of food were denied; for instance, the

sugar-cane—_ko_—was forbidden. The reason assigned was that

if one indulged in it his work as a practitioner would amount

to nothing; in the language of the kumu, _aohe e leo ana kana

mau hana_, his work will be a failure. The argument turned on

the double meaning of the word _ko_, the first meaning being

sugar cane, the second, accomplishment. The Hawaiians were

much impressed by such whimsical nominalisms. Yet there is a

backing of good sense to the rule. Anyone who has chewed the

sweet stalk can testify that for some time thereafter his

voice is rough, ill-fitted for singing or elocution.

The strictest propriety and decorum were exacted of the

pupils; there must be no license whatever. Even married

people during the weeks preceding graduation must observe

abstinence toward their partners. The whole power of one’s

being must be devoted to the pursuit of art.

The rules demanded also the most punctilious personal

cleanliness. Above all things, one must avoid contact with a

corpse. Such defilement barred one from entrance to the halau

until ceremonial cleansing had been performed. The offender

must bathe in the ocean; the kumu then aspersed him with holy

water, uttered a prayer, ordered a penalty, an offering to

the kuahu, and declared the offender clean. This done, he

was again received into fellowship at the halau.

The ordinary penalty for a breach of ceremony or an offense

against sexual morality was the offering of a baked porkling

with awa. Since the introduction of money the penalty has

generally been reckoned on a commercial basis; a money fine

is imposed. The offering of pork and awa is retained as a

concession to tradition.

[Page 31]

V—CEREMONIES OF GRADUATION; DÉBUT OF A HULA DANCER

CEREMONIES OF GRADUATION

The _ai-lolo_ rite and ceremony marked the consummation of a

pupil’s readiness for graduation from the school of the halau

and his formal entrance into the guild of hula dancers. As

the time drew near, the kumu tightened the reins of

discipline, and for a few days before that event no pupil

might leave the halau save for the most stringent necessity,

and then only with the head muffled (_pulo’u_) to avoid

recognition, and he might engage in no conversation whatever

outside the halau.

The night preceding the day of ai-lolo was devoted to special

services of dance and song. Some time after midnight the

whole company went forth to plunge into the ocean, thus to

purge themselves of any lurking ceremonial impurity. The

progress to the ocean and the return they made in complete

nudity. “Nakedness is the garb of the gods.” On their way to

and from the bath they must not look back, they must not turn

to the right hand or to the left.

The kumu, as the priest, remained at the halau, and as the

procession returned from the ocean he met it at the door and

sprinkled each one (_pikai_) with holy water. Then came

another period of dance and song; and then, having

cantillated a _pule hoonoa_, to lift the tabu, the kumu went

forth to his own ceremonial cleansing bath in the sea. During

his absence his deputy, the _kokua kumu_, took charge of the

halau. When the kumu reached the door on his return, he made

himself known by reciting a _mele wehe puka_, the

conventional password.

Still another exercise of song and dance, and the wearied

pupils are glad to seek repose. Some will not even remove the

short dancing skirts that are girded about them, so eager

are they to snatch an hour of rest; and some lie down with

bracelets and anklets yet unclasped.

At daybreak the kumu rouses the company with the tap of the

drum. After ablutions, before partaking of their simple

breakfast, the company stand before the altar and recite a

tabu-removing prayer, accompanying the cantillation with a

rhythmic tapping of feet and clapping of hands:

_Pule Hoonoa_

Pupu we’uwe’u e, Laka e!

O kona we’uwe’u ke ku nei.

[Page 32] Kaumaha a’e la ia Laka.

O Laka ke akua pule ikaika.

5 Ua ku ka maile a Laka a imua;

Ua lu ka hua[32] o ka maile.

Noa, noa ia’u, ia Kahaula—

Papalua noa.

Noa, a ua noa.

10 Eli-eli kapu! eli-eli noa!

Kapu oukou, ke akua!

Noa makou, ke kanaka´.

[Translation.]

_Tabu-lifting Prayer_

Oh wildwood bouquet, oh Laka!

Hers are the growths that stand here.

Suppliants we to Laka.

The prayer to Laka has power;

5 The maile of Laka stands to the fore.

The maile vine casts now its seeds.

Freedom, there’s freedom to me, Kahaula—

A freedom twofold.

10 Freedom, aye freedom!

A tabu profound, a freedom complete.

Ye gods are still tabu;

We mortals are free.

[Footnote 32: _Lu ka hua_. Casts now its seeds. The maile vine

(pl. IV), one of the goddess’s emblems, casts its seeds,

meaning that the goddess gives the pupils skill and inspires

them.]

At the much-needed repast to which the company now sit down

there may be present a gathering of friends and relatives and

of hula experts, called _olóhe_. Soon the porkling chosen to

be the _ai-lólo_ offering is brought in—a black suckling

without spot or blemish. The kumu holds it down while all the

pupils gather and lay their hands upon his hands; and he

expounds to them the significance of the ceremony. If they

consecrate themselves to the work in hand in sincerity and

with true hearts, memory will be strong and the training, the

knowledge, and the songs that have been intrusted to the

memory will stay. If they are heedless, regardless of their

vows, the songs they have learned will fly away.

The ceremony is long and impressive; many songs are used.

Sometimes, it was claimed, the prayers of the kumu at this

laying on of hands availed to cause the death of the little

animal. On the completion of the ceremony the offering is

taken out and made ready for the oven.

One of the first duties of the day is the dismantling of the

old kuahu, the shrine, and the construction of another from

new materials as a residence for the goddess. While night yet

shadows the earth the attendants and friends of the pupils

[Page 33] have gone up into the mountains to collect the material for

the new shrine. The rustic artists, while engaged in this

loving work of building and weaving the new kuahu, cheer and

inspire one another with joyful songs vociferous with the

praise of Laka. The halau also they decorate afresh, strewing

the floor with clean rushes, until the whole place enthralls

the senses like a bright and fragrant temple.

[Illustration:

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY

BULLETIN 38 PLATE IV

MAILE (ALYXIA MYRTILLIFOLIA) WREATH]

The kumu now grants special dispensation to the pupils to go

forth that they may make good the results of the neglect of

the person incident to long confinement in the halau. For

days, for weeks, perhaps for months, they have not had full

opportunity to trim hair, nails, or beard, to anoint and

groom themselves. They use this short absence from the hall

also to supply themselves with wreaths of fragrant maile,

crocus-yellow ilima, scarlet-flaming lehua, fern, and what

not.

At the appointed hour the pupils, wreathed and attired like

nymphs and dryads, assemble in the halau, sweet with woodsy

perfumes. At the door they receive aspersion with consecrated

water.

The ai-lolo offering, cooked to a turn—no part raw, no part

cracked or scorched—is brought in from the _imu_, its bearer

sprinkled by the guard at the entrance. The kumu, having

inspected the roast offering and having declared it

ceremonially perfect, gives the signal, and the company break

forth in songs of joy and of adulation to goddess Laka:

_Mele Kuau_

Noho ana Laka I ka ulu wehi-wehi,

Ku ana iluna i Mo’o-helaia,[33]

Ohia-Ku[34] ouna o Mauna-loa.[35]

Aloha mai Kaulana-ula[36] ia’u.

5 Eia ka ula la, he ula leo,[37]

He uku, he modai, he kanaenae,

He alana na’u ia oe.

E Laka e, e maliu mai;

E maliu mai oe, i pono au,

10 A pono au, a pono kaua.

[Footnote 33: _Mo’o-helaia_. A female deity, a _kupua_, who at

death became one of the divinities, _au-makua_, of the hula.

Her name was conferred on the place claimed as her residence,

on Mauna-loa, island of Molokai.]

[Footnote 34: _Ohia-Ku_. Full name _ohia-ku-makua_; a variety

of the ohìa, or lehua (pl. XIII), whose wood was used in

making temple gods. A rough stem of this tree stood on each

side near the _hala-pepe_. (See pl. III, also pp. 19–20.)]

[Footnote 35: _Mauna-loa_. Said to be the mountain of that

name on Molokai, not that on Hawaii.]

[Footnote 36: _Kaulana-ula_. Full form _Kaulana-a-ula_; the

name of a deity belonging to the order, _papa_, of the hula.

Its meaning is explained in the expression _ula leo_, in the

next line.]

[Footnote 37: _Ula leo_. A singing or trilling sound, a

_tinnitus aurium_, a sign that the deity Kaulanaula was

making some communication to the one who heard it.

“By the pricking of my thumbs

Something wicked this way comes.”]

[Page 34]

[Translation.]

_Altar-Prayer_

Laka sits in her shady grove,

Stands on her terrace, at Mo’o-helaia;

Like the tree of God Ku on Mauna-loa.

Kaulana-ula trills in my ear;

5 A whispered suggestion to me,

Lo, an offering, a payment,

A eulogy give I to thee.

O Laka, incline to me!

Have compassion, let it be well—

10 Well with me, well with us both.

There is no stint of prayer-song. While the offering rests on

the kuahu, the joyful service continues:

_Mele Kuahu_

E Laka, e!

Pupu we’uwe’u e, Laka e!

E Laka i ka leo;

E laka i ka loaa;

5 E Laka i ka waiwai;

E Laka i na mea a pau!

[Translation.]

_Altar-Prayer_

O goddess Laka!

O wildwood bouquet, O Laka!

O Laka, queen of the voice!

O Laka, giver of gifts!

5 O Laka, giver of bounty!

O Laka, giver of all things!

At the conclusion of this loving service of worship and song

each member of the troupe removes from his head and neck the

wreaths that had bedecked him, and with them crowns the

image of the goddess until her altar is heaped with the

offerings.

Now comes the pith of the ceremony: the novitiates sit down

to the feast of ai-lolo, theirs the place of honor, at the

head of the table, next the kuahu. The _ho’o-pa’a_, acting

as carver, selects the typical parts—snout, ear-tips, tail,

feet, portions of the vital organs, especially the brain

(_lolo_). This last it is which gives name to the ceremony.

He sets an equal portion before each novitiate. Each one must

eat all that is set before him. It is a mystical rite, a

sacrament; as he eats he consciously partakes of the virtue

of the goddess that is transmitted to himself.

[Page 35]

Meantime the _olohe_ and friends of the novitiates, inspired

with the proper enthusiasm, of the occasion, lift their

voices in joyful cantillations in honor of the goddess,

accompanied with the clapping of hands.

The ceremony now reaches a new stage. The kumu lifts the tabu

by uttering a prayer—always a song—and declares the place

and the feast free, and the whole assembly sit down to enjoy

the bounty that is spread up and down the halau. On this

occasion men and women may eat in common. The only articles

excluded from this feast are _luau_—a food much like

spinach, made by cooking the young and delicate taro

leaf—and the drupe of the _hala_, the pandanus (pl. xviii).

The company sit down to eat and to drink; presently they rise

to dance and sing. The kumu leads in a tabu-lifting,

freedom-giving song and the ceremony of ai-lolo is over. The

pupils have been graduated from the school of the halau; they

are now members of the great guild of hula dancers. The time

has come for them to make their bow to the waiting public

outside, to bid for the favor of the world. This is to be

their “little go;” they will spread their wings for a

greater flight on the morrow.

The kumu with his big drum, and the musicians, the ho’o-pa’a,

pass through the door and take their places outside in the

lanai, where sit the waiting multitude. At the tap of the

drum the group of waiting olapa plume themselves like fine

birds eager to show their feathers; and, as they pass out the

halau door and present themselves to the breathless audience,

into every pose and motion of their gliding, swaying figures

they pour a full tide of emotion in studied and unstudied

effort to captivate the public.

DÉBUT OF A HULA DANCER

The occasion is that of a lifetime; it is their _uniki_,

their debut. The song chosen must rise to the dignity of the

occasion. Let us listen to the song that enthralls the

audience seated in the rushstrown lanai, that we may judge of

its worthiness.

_He Mele-Inoa (no Naihe)_[38]

Ka nalu nui, a ku ka nalu mai Kona,

Ka malo a ka mahiehie,[39]

Ka onaulu-loa,[40] a lele ka’u malo.

[Page 36] O kakai[41] malo hoaka,[42]

5 O ka malo kai,[43] malo o ke alii

E ku, e hume a paa i ka malo.

E ka’ika’i [44] ka la i ka papa o Halepó;[45]

A pae o Halepó i ka nalu.

Ho-e’e i ka nalu mai Kahiki;[46]

10 He nalu Wakea,[47] nalu ho’ohua.[48]

Haki opu’u [49] ka nalu, haki kua-pa.[50]

Ea mai ka makakai [51] he’e-nalu,

Kai he’e kakala [52] o ka moku,

Kai-ká o ka nalu nui,

15 Ka hu’a o ka nalu o Hiki-au.[53]

Kai he’e-nalu i ke awakea.

Ku ka puna, ke ko’a i-uka.

Ka makahá o ka nalu o Kuhihewa.[54]

Ua o ia,[55] nohá ka papa!

20 Noná Maui, nauweuwe,

Nauweuwe, nakelekele.

Nakele ka ili o ka i he’e-kai.

Lalilali ole ka ili o ke akamai;

Kahilihili ke kai a ka he’e-nalu.

25 Ike’a ka nalu nui o Puna, o Hilo.

[Footnote 38: Naihe. A man of strong character, but not a

high chief. He was horn in Kona and resided at Napoopoo. His

mother was Ululani, his father Keawe-a-heulu, who was a

celebrated general and strategist under Kamehameha I.]

[Footnote 39: Mahiehie. A term conferring dignity and

distinction.]

[Footnote 40: Onaulu-loa. A roller of great length and

endurance, one that reaches the shore, in contrast to a

_kakala_.]

[Footnote 41: _Kalai._ An archaic word meaning forty.]

[Footnote 42: _Hoaka._ A crescent; the name of the second day

of the month. The allusion is to the curve (downward) of a

large number (kakai) of malo when hung on a line, the usual

way of keeping such articles.]

[Footnote 43: _Malo kai._ The ocean is sometimes poetically

termed the _malo_ or _pa-á_ of the naked swimmer, or bather.

It covers his nakedness.]

[Footnote 44: _Ka’ika’i._ To lead or to carry; a tropical use

of the word. The sun is described as leading the board.]

[Footnote 45: _Hale-pó._ In the opinion of the author it is

the name of the board. A skilled Hawaiian says it is the name

given the surf of a place at Napoopoo, in Kona, Hawaii. The

action is not located there, but in Puna, it seems to the

author.]

[Footnote 46: _Kahiki._ Tahiti, or any foreign country; a term

of grandiloquence.]

[Footnote 47: _Wakea._ A mythical name, coming early in

Hawaiian genealogies; here used in exaggeration to show the

age of the roller.]

[Footnote 48: _Ho’ohua._ Applied to a roller, one that rolls

on and swells higher.]

[Footnote 49: _Opu’u._ Said of a roller that completes its run

to shore.]

[Footnote 50: _Kua-pá._ Said of a roller as above that dies

at the shore.]

[Footnote 51: _Maka-kai._ The springing-up of the surf after

an interval of quiet.]

[Footnote 52: _Kakála._ Rough, heaped up, one wave overriding

another, a chop sea.]

[Footnote 53: _Hiki-au._ Said to be the name of a temple.]

[Footnote 54: _Kuhihewa._ Full name _Ka-kuhi-hewa_, a

distinguished king of Oahu.]

[Footnote 55: _O iu._ Meaning that the board dug its nose

into the reef or sand.]

[Translation.]

_A Name-Song, a Eulogy_ (for Naihe)

The huge roller, roller that surges from Kona,

Makes loin-cloth fit for a lord;

Far-reaching swell, my malo streams in the wind;

Shape the crescent malo to the loins—

5 The loin-cloth the sea, cloth for king’s girding.

Stand, gird fast the loin-cloth!

[Page 37] Let the sun guide the board Halepó,

Till Halepó lifts on the swell.

It mounts the swell that rolls from Kahiki,

10 From Wakea’s age enrolling.

The roller plumes and ruffles its crest.

Here comes the champion surf-man,

While wave-ridden wave beats the island,

A fringe of mountain-high waves.

15 Spume lashes the Hiki-an altar—A

surf this to ride at noontide.

The coral, horned coral, it sweeps far ashore.

We gaze at the surf of Ka-kuhi-hewa.

The surf-board snags, is shivered;

20 Maui splits with a crash,

Trembles, dissolves into slime.

Glossy the skin of the surf-man;

Undrenched the skin of the expert;

25 Wave-feathers fan the wave-rider.

You’ve seen the grand surf of Puna, of Hilo.

This spirited song, while not a full description of a

surf-riding scene, gives a vivid picture of that noble sport.

The last nine verses have been omitted, as they add neither

to the action nor to the interest.

It seems surprising that the accident spoken of in line 19

should be mentioned; for it is in glaring opposition to the

canons that were usually observed in the composition of a

_mele-inoa._ In the construction of a eulogy the Hawaiians

were not only punctiliously careful to avoid mention of

anything susceptible of sinister interpretation, but they

were superstitiously sensitive to any such unintentional

happening. As already mentioned (p. 27), they believed that

the fate compelling power of a word of ill-omen was

inevitable. If it did not result in the death of the one

eulogized, retributive justice turned the evil influence back

on him who uttered it.

[Page 38]

VI.—THE PASSWORD—THE SONG OF ADMISSION

There prevailed among the practitioners of the hula from one

end of the group to the other a mutual understanding,

amounting almost to a sort of freemasonry, which gave to any

member of the guild the right of free entrance at all times

to the hall, or halau, where a performance was under way.

Admission was conditioned, however, on the utterance of a

password at the door. A snatch of song, an oli, denominated

_mele kahea_, or _mele wehe puka_, was chanted, which, on

being recognized by those within, was answered in the same

language of hyperbole, and the door was opened.

The verbal accuracy of any mele kahea that may be adduced is

at the present day one of the vexed questions among hula

authorities, each hula-master being inclined to maintain that

the version given by another is incorrect. This remark

applies, though in smaller measure, to the whole body of

mele, pule, and oli that makes up the songs and liturgy of

the hula as well as to the traditions that guided the

maestro, or kumu-hula, in the training of his company. The

reasons for these differences of opinion and of test, now

that there is to be a written text, are explained by the

following facts: The devotees and practitioners of the hula

were divided into groups that were separated from one another

by wide intervals of sea and land. They belonged quite likely

to more than one cult, for indeed there were many gods and

_au-makua_ to whom they sacrificed and offered prayers. The

passwords adopted by one generation or by the group of

practitioners on one island might suffer verbal changes in

transmission to a later generation or to a remote island.

Again, it should be remembered that the entire body of

material forming the repertory of the hula—pule, mele, and

oli—was intrusted to the keeping of the memory, without the

aid of letters or, so far as known, of any mnemonic device;

and the human mind, even under the most athletic discipline,

is at best an imperfect conservator of literary form. The

result was what might be expected: as the imagination and

emotions of the minstrel warmed under the inspiration of his

trust, glosses and amendments crept in. These, however,

caused but slight variations in the text. The substance

remains substantially the same.

After carefully weighing the matter, the author can not avoid

the conclusion that jealousy had much to do with the slight

differences now manifest, that one version is as

[Page 39] authoritative as another, and that it would be well for each

kumu-hula to have kept in mind the wise adage that shines

among the sayings of his nation: _Aohe pau ka ike i kau halau

_[56]—“Think not that all of wisdom resides in you

halau.”[57]

[Footnote 56: Sophocles (Antigone, 705) had said the same

thing:[Greek: me nun en ethos pounon en sautô phorei ôs

phes su, kouden allo, tout’ orphôs echein]—“Don’t get this

idea fixed in your head, that what you say, and nothing else,

is right.”]

[Footnote 57: _Halau._ As previously explained, in this

connection _halau_ has a meaning similar to our word

“school,” or “academy,” a place where some art was taught, as

wrestling, boxing, or the hula.]

_Mele Kahea_

Li’u-li’u aloha ia’u,

Ka uka o Koholá-lele,

Ka nahele mauka o Ka-papala [58] la.

Komo, e komo aku hoi au maloko.

5 Mai ho’ohewahewa mai oe ia’u; oau no ia,

Ke ka-nae-nae a ka mea hele,

He leo, e-e,

A he leo wale no, e-e!

Eia ka pu’u nui owaho nei la,

10 He ua, lie ino, he anu, he ko’e-ko’e.

E ku’u aloha, e,

Maloko aku au.

[Translation.]

_Password_

Long, long have I tarried with love

In the uplands of Koholá-lele,

The wildwood above Ka-papala.

To enter, permit me to enter, I pray;

5 Refuse me not recognition; I am he,

A traveler offering mead of praise,

Just a voice,

Only a human voice.

Oh, what I suffer out here,

10 Rain, storm, cold, and wet.

O sweetheart of mine,

Let me come in to you.

[Footnote 58: _Ka-papala._ A verdant region on the

southeastern flank of Mauna-Loa.]

Hear now the answer chanted by voices from within:

_Mele Komo_

Aloha na hale o makou i maka-maka ole,

Ke alanui hele mauka o Pu’u-kahea la, e-e!

Ka-he-a!

E Kahea aku ka pono e komo mai oe iloko nei.

Eia ka pu’u nui o waho nei, he anu.

[Page 40]

[Translation.]

_Song of Welcome_

What love to our cottage-homes, now vacant,

As one climbs the mount of Entreaty!

We call,

We voice the welcome, invite you to enter.

The hill of Affliction out there is the cold.

Another fragment that was sometimes used as a password is the

following bit of song taken from the story of Hiiaka, sister

of Pele. She is journeying with the beautiful Hopoe to fetch

prince Lohiau to the court of Pele. They have come by a steep

and narrow path to the brink of the Wai-lua river, Kauai, at

this point spanned by a single plank. But the bridge is gone,

removed by an ill-tempered naiad (witch) said to have come

from Kahiki, whose name, Wai-lua, is the same as that of the

stream. Hiiaka calls out, demanding that the plank be

restored to its place. Wai-lua does not recognize the deity

in Hiiaka and, sullen, makes no response. At this the goddess

puts forth her strength, and Wai-lua, stripped of her power

and reduced to her true station, that of a _mo’o_, a reptile,

seeks refuge in the caverns beneath the river. Hiiaka betters

the condition of the crossing by sowing it with stepping

stones. The stones remain in evidence to this day.

_Mele Kahea_

Kunihi ka mauna i ka la’i e,

O Wai-ale-ale[59] la i Wai-lua,

Huki a’e la i ka lani

Ka papa au-wai o ka Wai-kini;

5 Alai ia a’e la e Nou-nou,

Nalo ka Ipu-ha’a,

Ka laula mauka o Kapa’a, e!

Mai pa’a i ka leo!

He ole ka hea mai, e!

[Translation.]

Password—Song

Steep stands the mountain in calm,

Profile of Wai-ale-ale at Wai-lua.

Gone the stream-spanning plank of Wai-kini,

Filched away by Nou-nou;

5 Shut off the view of the hill Ipu-ha’a,

And the upland expanse of Ka-pa’a.

Give voice and make answer.

Dead silence—no voice in reply.

In later, in historic times, this visitor, whom we have kept

long waiting at the door, might have voiced his appeal in the

passionate words of this comparatively modern song:

[Footnote 59: _Wai-ale-ale_ (Leaping-water). The central

mountain-mass of Kauai.]

[Page 41]

_Mele Kahea_[60]

Ka uka holo-kia ahi-manu o La’a,[61]

I po-ele i ka uahi, noe ka nahele,

Nohe-nohea i ka makani luhau-pua.

He pua oni ke kanaka—

5 He mea laha ole la oe.

Mai kaua e hea nei;

E hea i ke kanaka e komo maloko,

E hanai ai a hewa[62] ka wa’ha.

Eia no ka uku la, o ka wa’a.[63]

Translation]

_Password—Song_

In the uplands, the darting flame-bird of La’a,

While smoke and mist blur the woodland,

Is keen for the breath of frost-bitten flowers.

A fickle flower is man—

5 A trick this not native to you.

Come thou with her who is calling to thee;

A call to the man to come in

And eat till the mouth is awry.

Lo, this the reward—the canoe.

[Footnote 60: This utterance of passion is said to have been,

the composition of the Princess-Kamamalu, as an address to

Prince William Lunalilo, to whom she was at one time

affianced and would have married, but that King Liholiho

(Kamehameha IV) would not allow the marriage. Thereby hangs a

tragedy.]

[Footnote 61: _La’a_. The region in Hawaii now known as Ola’a

was originally called La’a. The particle _o_ has become fused

with the word.]

[Footnote 62: _Hewa ka waha_. This expression, here tortured

into “(till) the mouth awry,” is difficult of translation. A

skilled Hawaiian scholar suggests, it may mean to change one

from, an enemy to a friend by stopping his mouth with food.]

[Footnote 63: _Wa’a_. Literally a canoe. This is a euphemism

for the human body, a gift often too freely granted. It will

be noted that in the answering mele komo, the song of

admission, the reward promised is more modestly

measured—“Simply the voice.”]

The answer to this appeal for admission was in these words:

_Mele Komo_

E hea i ke kanaka e komo maloko,

E hanai ai a hewa waha;

Eia no ka uku la, o ka leo,

A he leo wale no, e!

[Translation.]

Welcoming-Song

Call to the man to come in,

And eat till the mouth is estopt;

And this the reward, the voice,

Simply the voice.

The cantillation of the _mele komo_: in answer to the

visitor’s petition, meant not only the opening to him of the

halau door, but also his welcome to the life of the halau as

a heart-guest of honor, trebly welcome as the bringer of

fresh tidings from the outside world.

[Page 42]

VII.—WORSHIP AT THE ALTAR OF THE HALAU

The first duty of a visitor on being admitted to the halau

while the tabu was on—that is, during the conduct of a

regular hula—was to do reverence at the kuahu. The

obligations of religion took precedence of all social

etiquette. He reverently approaches the altar, to which all

eyes are turned, and with outstretched hands pours out a

supplication that breathes the aroma of ancient prayer:

_Pule Kuahu_ (no Laka)

O Laka oe,

O ke akua i ke a’a-lii[64] nui.

E Laka mai uka!

E Laka mai kai!

5 O hoo-ulu[65] o Lono,

O ka ilio nana e haehae ke aha,

O ka ie-ie ku i ka wao,

O ka maile hihi i ka nahele,

O ka lau ki-ele[66] ula o ke akua,

10 O na ku’i[67] o Hauoli,

O Ha’i-ka-malama,[68]

Wahine o Kina’u.[69]

Kapo ula[70] o Kina’u.

O Laka oe,

15 O ke akua i ke kuahu nei la, e!

E ho’i, e ho’i a nolao i kou kuahu.

Hoo-ulu ia!

[Footnote 64: _A’a-lii_. A deep-rooted tree, sacred to Laka

or to Kapo.]

[Footnote 65: Hoo-ulu. Literally to make grow; secondarily,

to inspire, to prosper, to bring good luck. This is the

meaning most in mind in modern times, since the hula has

become a commercial venture.]

[Footnote 66: _Ki-ele_. A flowering plant native to the

Hawaiian woods, also cultivated, sacred to Laka, and perhaps

to Kapo. The leaves are said to be pointed and curved like

the beak of the bird _i-iwi_, and the flower has the gorgeous

yellow-red color of that bird.]

[Footnote 67: It has been proposed to amend this verse by

substituting _akua_, for _ku’i_, thus making the idea the

gods of the hula.]

[Footnote 68: _Haí-ka-malama_. An epithet applied to Laka.]

[Footnote 69: _Kina’u_. Said to mean Hiiaka, the sister of

Pele.]

[Footnote 70: _Kapo ula_. Red, _ula_, was the favorite color

of Kapo. The _kahuna anaana_, high priests of sorcery, of the

black art, and of murder, to whom Kapo was at times

procuress, made themselves known as such by the display of a

red flag and the wearing of a red malo.]

[Translation.]

_Altar-Prayer_ (to Laka)

Thou art Laka,

God of the deep-rooted a’a-lii.

O Laka from the mountains,

O Laka from the ocean!

[Page 43] 5 Let Lono bless the service,

Shutting the mouth of the dog,

That breaks the charm with his barking.

Bring the i-e that grows in the wilds,

The maile that twines in the thicket,

10 Red-beaked kiele, leaf of the goddess,

The joyous pulse of the dance

In honor of Ha’i-ka-malama,

Friend of Kina’u,

Red-robed friend of Kina’u.

15 Thou art Laka,

God of this altar here.

Return, return and reside at your altar!

Bring it good luck!

A single prayer may not suffice as the offering at Laka’s

altar. His repertory is full; the visitor begins anew, this

time on a different tack:

_Pule Kuahu_ (no Laka)

Eia ke kuko, ka li’a;

I ka manawa he hiamoe ko’u,

Hoala ana oe,

O oe o Halau-lani,

5 O Hoa-lani,

O Puoho-lani,

Me he manu e hea ana i ka maha lehua

Ku moho kiekie la i-uka.

I-uka ho’i au me Laka

10 A Lea,[71] a Wahie-loa,[72], i ka nahelehele;

He hoa kaana ia no’u,

No kela kuahiwi, kualono hoi.

E Laka, e Laka, e!

E maliu mai!

15 A maliu mai oe pono au,

A a’e mai oe pono au!

[Translation.]

_Altar-Prayer_ (to Laka)

This my wish, my burning desire,

That in the season of slumber

Thy spirit my soul may inspire,

Altar-dweller,

5 Heaven-guest,

Soul-awakener,

Bird from covert calling,

Where forest champions stand.

There roamed I too with Laka,

[Page 44] 10 Of Lea and Loa a wilderness-child;

On ridge, in forest boon companion she

To the heart that throbbed in me.

O Laka, O Laka,

Hark to my call!

15 You approach, it is well;

You possess me, I am blest!

[Footnote 71: _Lea_. The same as Laia, or probably Haumea.]

[Footnote 72: _Wahie loa_. This must be a mistake. Laka the

son of Wahie-loa was a great voyager. His canoe

(_kau-méli-éli_) was built for him by the gods. In it he

sailed to the South to rescue his father’s bones from the

witch who had murdered him. This Laka had his home at

Kipahulu, Maui, and is not to be confounded with Laka,

goddess of the hula.]

In the translation of this pule the author has found it

necessary to depart from the verse arrangement that obtains

in the Hawaiian text.

The religious services of the halau, though inspired by one

motive, were not tied to a single ritual or to one set of

prayers. Prayer marked the beginning and the ending of every

play—that is, of every dance—and of every important event

in the programme of the halau; but there were many prayers

from which the priest might select. After the prayer

specially addressed to Laka the visitor might use a petition

of more general scope. Such is the one now to be given:

He Pule Kuahu (ia Kane ame Kapo); _a he Pule Hoolei_

Kane, hiki a’e, he maláma [73] la luna;

Ha’aha’a, he maláma ia lalo;

Oni-oni,[74] he málama ia ka’u;

He wahine [75] lei, málama ia Kapo;

5 E Kapo nui, hala-hala [76] a i’a;

E Kapo nui, hala-hala [77] a mea,

Ka alihi [78] luna, ka alihi lalo;

E ka poha-kú.[79]

Noho ana Kapo i ka ulu wehi-wehi;

10 Ku ana i Moo-helaia,[80]

Ka ohi’a-Ku iluna o Mauna-loa.

Aloha mai Kaulana-a-ula [81] ia’u;

Eia ka ula la, he ula leo,[82]

He uku, he mohai, he alana,

[Page 45] 15 He kanaenae na’u ia oe, e Kapo ku-lani.

E moe hauna-ike, e hea au, e o mai oe.

Aia la na lehua o Kaana[83]

Ke kui ia mai la e na wahine a lawa

I lei no Kapo—

20 O Kapo, alii nui no ia moku,

Ki’e-ki’e, ha’a-ha’a;

Ka la o ka ike e ike aku ai:

He ike kumu, he ike lono;

He ike pu-awa [84] hiwa,

25 He ike a ke Akua, e!

E Kapo, ho’i!

E ho’i a noho i kou kuahu.

Ho’ulu ia!

Eia ka wai,[85] la,

30 He wai e ola.

E ola nou, e!

[Footnote 73: _Maláma_. Accented on the penult, as here, the

word means to enlighten or a light (same in second verse). In

the third and fourth verses the accent is changed to the

first syllable, and the word here means to preserve, to

foster. These words furnish an example of poetical

word-repetition.]

[Footnote 74: _Onioni._ To squirm, to dodge, to move. The

meaning here seems to be to move with delight.]

[Footnote 75: _Wahine lei._ A reference to _Laka_, the child

of Kapo, who was symbolized by a block of wood on the altar.

(See p. 23.)]

[Footnote 76: _Hala-hala a i’a._ Said to be a certain kind of

fish that was ornamented about its tailend with a band of

bright color; therefore an object of admiration and desire.]

[Footnote 77: _Hala-Hala a mea._ The ending _mea_ is perhaps

taken from the last half of the proper name _Hau-mea_ who was

Kapo’s mother. It belongs to the land, in contrast to the

sea, and seems to be intended to intensify and extend the

meaning of the term previously used. The passage is

difficult. Expert Hawaiians profess their inability to fathom

its meaning.]

[Footnote 78: _Alihi luna._ The line or “stretching cord,”

that runs the length of a net at its top, the _a lalo_ being

the corresponding line at the bottom of the net. The exact

significance of this language complimentary to Kapo can not

be phrased compactly.]

[Footnote 79: _Poha-kú._ The line that runs up and down at the

end of a long net, by which it may be anchored.]

[Footnote 80: _Moo-helaia._ See note a, p. 33.]

[Footnote 81: _Kaulana-a-ula._ See note d, p, 33.]

[Footnote 82: _Ula leo._ See note e, p. 33.]

[Footnote 83: _Kaana._ A place on Mauna-loa, Molokai, where

the lehua greatly flourished. The body of Kapo, it is said,

now lies there in appearance a rock. The same claim is made

for a rock at Wailua, Hana, Maui.]

[Footnote 84: _Pu-awa hiwa (hiwa_, black). A kind of strong

awa. The gentle exhilaration, as well as the deep sleep, of

awa were benefits ascribed to the gods. Awa was an essential

to most complete sacrifices.]

[Footnote 85: _Wai._ Literally water, refers to the bowl of

awa, replenished each day, which set on the altar of the

goddess.]

[Illustration: BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 38 PLATE V

TI (DRACAENA TERMINALIS)]

Verses 9 to 15, inclusive, are almost identical in form with

the first seven verses in the Mele Kuahu addressed to Laka,

given on page 33.

[Translation.]

An _Altar-Prayer_ (to Kane and Kapo): _also a Garland-Prayer,

used while decorating the altar_

Now, Kane, approach, illumine the altar;

Stoop, and enlighten mortals below;

Rejoice in the gifts I have brought.

Wreathed goddess fostered by Kapo—

5 Hail Kapo, of beauty resplendent!

Great Kapo, of sea and land,

The topmost stay of the net,

Its lower stay and anchoring line.

Kapo sits in her darksome covert;

10 On the terrace, at Mo’o-he-laia,

Stands the god-tree of Ku, on Mauna-loa.

God Kaulana-ula twigs now mine ear,

His whispered suggestion to me is

This payment, sacrifice, offering,

15 Tribute of praise to thee, O Kapo divine.

Inspiring spirit in sleep, answer my call.

Behold, of lehua bloom of Kaana

The women are stringing enough

To enwreath goddess Kapo;

20 Kapo, great queen of that island,

Of the high and the low.

The day of revealing shall see what it sees:

[Page 46] A seeing of facts, a sifting of rumors,

An insight won by the black sacred awa,

25 A vision like that of a god!

O Kapo, return!

Return, and abide in your altar!

Make it fruitful!

Lo, here is the water,

30 The water of life!

Hail, now, to thee!

The little god-folk, whom the ancients called Kini

Akua—myriads of gods—and who made the wildwoods and

wilderness their playground, must also be placated. They were

a lawless set of imps; the elfins, brownies, and kobolds of

our fairy world were not “up to them” in wanton deviltry. If

there is to be any luck in the house, it can only be when

they are dissuaded from outbreaking mischief.

The pule next given is a polite invitation to these little

brown men of the woods to honor the occasion with their

presence and to bring good luck at their coming. It is such a

prayer as the visitor might choose to repeat at this time, or

it might be used on other occasions, as at the consecration

of the kuahu:

_He Pule Kuahu_ (no Kini Akua)

E ulu, e ulu, Kini o ke Akua!

Ulu Kane me Kanaloa!

Ulu Ohi’a-lau-koa, me ka Ie-ie!

A’e mai a noho i kou kuahu!

5 Eia ka wai la, he wai e ola.

E ola no, e-e!

[Translation.]

_An Altar-Prayer_ (to the Kini Akua)

Gather, oh gather, ye hosts of godlings!

Come Kane with Kanaloa!

Come leafy Ohi’a and I-e!

Possess me and dwell in your altar!

5 Here’s water, water of life!

Life, give us life!

The visitor, having satisfied his sense of what the occasion

demands, changes his tone from that of cantillation to

ordinary speech, and concludes his worship with a petition

conceived in the spirit of the following prayer:

E ola ia’u, i ka malihini; a pela hoi na kamaaina, ke kumu,

na haumana, ia oe, e Laka. E Laka ia Pohaku i ka wawae. E

Laka i ke kupe’e. E Laka ia Luukia i ka pa-u; e Laka i ke

kuhi; e Laka i ka leo; e Laka i ka lei. E Laka i ke ku ana

imua o ke anaina.

[Page 47]

[Translation.]

Thy blessing, O Laka, on me the stranger, and on the

residents, teacher and pupils. O Laka, give grace to the feet

of Pohaku; and to her bracelets and anklets; comeliness to

the figure and skirt of Luukia. To (each one) give gesture

and voice. O Laka, make beautiful the lei; inspire the

dancers when they stand before the assembly.

At the close of this service of song and prayer the visitor

will turn from the kuahu and exchange salutations and

greetings with his friends in the halau.

The song-prayer “Now, Kane, approach, illumine the altar” (p.

45) calls for remark. It brings up again the question,

previously discussed, whether there were not two distinct

cults of worshipers, the one devoted to Laka, the other to

Kapo. The following facts will throw light on the question.

On either side of the approach to the altar stood,

sentinel-like, a tall stem of hala-pepe, a graceful, slender

column, its head of green sword-leaves and scarlet drupes

making a beautiful picture. (See p. 24.) These are said to

have been the special emblems of the goddess Kapo.

The following account of a conversation the author had with

an old woman, whose youthful days were spent as a hula

dancer, will also help to disentangle the subject and explain

the relation of Kapo to the hula:

“Will you not recite again the prayer you just now uttered,

and slowly, that it may be written down?” the author asked of

her. “Many prayers for the kuahu have been collected, but

this one differs from them all.”

“We Hawaiians,” she answered, “have been taught that these

matters are sacred (_kapu_) and must not be bandied about

from mouth to mouth.”

“Aye, but the time of the tabus has passed. Then, too, in a

sense having been initiated into hula matters, there can be

no impropriety in my dealing with them in a kindly spirit.”

“No harm, of course, will come to you, a _haole_ (foreigner).

The question is how it will affect us.”

“Tell me, were there two different classes of worshipers, one

class devoted to the worship of Laka and another class

devoted to the worship of Kapo?”

“No,” she answered, “Kapo and Laka were one in spirit, though

their names were two.”

“Haumea was the mother of Kapo. Who was her father?”

“Yes, Haumea was the mother, and Kua-ha-ilo [86] was the

father:”

“How about Laka?”

[Footnote 86: _Kua-ha-ilo._ A god of the _kahuna anaana;_

meaning literally to breed maggots in the back.]

[Page 48]

“Laka was the daughter of Kapo. Yet as a patron, of the hula

Laka stands first; she was worshiped at an earlier date than

Kapo; but they are really one.”

Further questioning brought out the explanation that Laka was

not begotten in ordinary generation; she was a sort of

emanation from Kapo. It was as if the goddess should sneeze

and a deity should issue with the breath from her nostrils;

or should wink, and thereby beget spiritual offspring from

the eye, or as if a spirit should issue forth at some

movement of the ear or mouth.

When the old woman’s scruples had been laid to rest, she

repeated slowly for the author’s benefit the pule given on

pages 45 and 46, “Now, Kane, approach,” * * * of which the

first eight lines and much of the last part, to him, were

new.

[Page 49]

VIII.—COSTUME OF THE HULA DANCER

The costume of the hula dancer was much the same for both

sexes, its chief article a simple short skirt about the

waist, the pa-ú. (PL I.)

When the time has come for a dance, the halau becomes one

common dressing room. At a signal from the kumu the work

begins. The putting on of each article of costume is

accompanied by a special song.

First come the _ku-pe’e_, anklets of whale teeth, bone,

shell-work, dog-teeth, fiber-stuffs, and what not. While all

stoop in unison they chant the song of the anklet:

_Mele Ku-pe’e_

Aala kupukupu[87] ka uka o Kane-hoa.[88]

E ho-a![89]

Hoa na lima o ka makani, he Wai-kaloa.[90]

He Wai-kaloa ka makani anu Lihue.

5 Alina[91] lehua i kau ka opua—

Ku’u pua,

Ku’u pua i’ini e ku-i a lei.

Ina ia oe ke lei ’a mai la.

[Translation.]

_Anklet-Song_

Fragrant the grasses of high Kane-hoa.

Bind on the anklets, bind!

Bind with finger deft as the wind

That cools the air of this bower.

5 Lehua bloom pales at my flower,

O sweetheart of mine,

Bud that I’d pluck and wear in my wreath,

If thou wert but a flower!

[Footnote 87: _Kupukupu_. Said to be a fragrant grass.]

[Footnote 88: _Kane-hoa_. Said to be a hill at Kaupo, Maui.

Another person says it is a hill at Lihue, on Oahu. The same

name is often repeated.]

[Footnote 89: _Ho-a_. To bind. An instance of word-repetition,

common in Hawaiian poetry.]

[Footnote 90: _Wai-kaloa_. A cool wind that Wows at Lihue,

Kauai]

[Footnote 91: _Alina_. A scar, or other mark of disfigurement,

a moral blemish. In ancient times lovers inflicted injuries

on themselves to prove devotion.]

The short skirt, _pa-u_, was the most important piece of

attire worn by the Hawaiian female. As an article of daily

wear it represented many stages of evolution beyond the

primitive fig-leaf, being fabricated from a great variety of

[Page 50] materials furnished by the garden of nature. In its simplest

terms the pa-ú was a mere fringe of vegetable fibers. When

placed as the shield of modesty about the loins of a woman of

rank, or when used as the full-dress costume of a dancing

girl on a ceremonious occasion, it took on more elaborate

forms, and was frequently of _tapa_, a fabric the finest

specimens of which would not have shamed the wardrobe of an

empress.

In the costuming of the hula girl the same variety obtained

as in the dress of a woman of rank. Sometimes her pa-ú would

be only a close-set fringe of ribbons stripped from the bark

of the hibiscus (_hau_), the _ti_ leaf or banana fiber, or a

fine rush, strung upon a thong to encircle the waist. In its

most elaborate and formal style the pa-ú consisted of a strip

of fine tapa several yards long and of width to reach nearly

to the knees. It was often delicately tinted or printed, as

to its outer part, with stamped figures. The part of the tapa

skirt thus printed, like the outer, decorative one in a set

of tapa bed-sheets, was termed the _kilohana_.

The pa-ú worn by the danseuse, when of tapa, was often of

such volume as to balloon like the skirt of a coryphée. To

put it on was quite an art, and on that account, if not on

the score of modesty, a portion of the halau was screened

off and devoted to the use of the females as a dressing room,

being known as the _unu-lau-koa_, and to this place they

repaired as soon as the kumu gave the signal for dressing.

The hula pa-ú of the women was worn in addition to that of

daily life; the hula pa-ú of the men, a less pretentious

affair, was worn outside the malo, and in addition to it.

The method of girding on the pa-ú was peculiar. Beginning at

the right hip—some say the left—a free end was allowed to

hang quite to the knee; then, passing across the back,

rounding the left hip, and returning by way of the abdomen to

the starting point, another circuit of the waist was

accomplished; and, a reverse being made, the garment was

secured by passing the bight of the tapa beneath the hanging

folds of the pa-ú from below upward until it slightly

protruded above the border of the garment at the waist. This

second end was thus brought to hang down the hip alongside of

the first free end; an arrangement that produced a most

decorative effect.

The Hawaiians, in their fondness for giving personal names to

inanimate objects, named the two free ends (_apua_) of the

pa-ú respectively _Ku-kápu-úla-ka-láni_ and _Léle-a-mahu’i_.

According to another method, which was simpler and more

commonly employed, the piece was folded sidewise and, being

gathered into pleats, a cord was inserted the length of the

fold. The cord was passed about the waist, knotted at the

hip, and thus held the garment secure.

[Page 51]

While the girls are making their simple toilet and donning

their unique, but scanty, costume, the kumu, aided by others,

soothes the impatience of the audience and stimulates their

imagination by cantillating a mele that sets forth in

grandiloquent imagery the praise of the pa-ú.

_Oli Pa-ú_

Kakua pa-ú, ahu na kikepa![92]

I ka pa-ú noenoe i hooluu’a,

I hookakua ia a paa iluna o ka imu.[93]

Ku ka nu’a[94] o ka pali o ka wai kapu,

5 He kuina[95] pa-ú pali[96] no Kupe-hau,

I holo a paa ia, paa e Hono-kane.[97]

Malama o lilo i ka pa-ú.

Holo ilio la ke ala ka Manú[98] i na pali;

Pali ku kahakó liaka a-i,

10 I ke keiki pa-ú pali a Kau-kini,[99]

I hoonu’anu’a iluna o ka Auwana.[100]

[Page 52] Akahi ke ana, ka luhi i ka pa-ú:

Ka ho-oio i ke kapa-wai,

I na kikepa wai o Apua,[101]

15 I hopu ’a i ka ua noe holo poo-poo,

Me he pa-ú elehiwa wale i na pali.

Ohiohi ka pali, ki ka liko o ka lama,

Mama ula[102] ia ka malua ula,

I hopu a omau ia e ka maino.

20 I[103] ka malo o Umi ku huná mai.

Ike’a ai na maawe wai oloná,[104]

E makili ia nei i Wahilau.[105]

Holo ke oloná, paa ke kapa.

Hu’a lepo ole ka pa-ú;

25 Nani ka o-iwi ma ka maka kilo-hana.[106]

Makalii ka ohe,[107] paa ke kapa.

Opua ke ahi i na pali,

I hookau kalena ia e ka makani,

I kaomi pohaku ia i Wai-manu,

30 I na alá[108] ki-óla-óla;

I na alá, i alá lele

Ia Kane-poha-ka’a.[109]

Paa ia Wai-manu,[110] o-oki Wai-pi’o;

Lalau o Ha’i i ka ohe,

Ia Koa’e-kea,[111] 35

I kauhihi ia ia ohe laulii, ia ohe.

Oki’a a moku, mo’ ke kini,[112]

[Page 53] Mo’ ke kihi, ka maiáma ka Hoaka,[113]

I apahu ia a poe,

40 O awili[114] o Malu-ó.

He pola ia no ka pa-ú;

E hii ana e Ka-holo-kua-iwa,

Ke amo la e Pa-wili-wlli

I ka pa-ú poo kau-poku—[115]

45 Kau poku a hana ke ao,

Kau iluna o Hala’a-wili,

I owili hana haawe.

Ku-ka’a, olo-ka’a wahie;

Ka’a ka opeope, ula ka pali;[116]

50 Uwá, kamalii, hookani ka pihe,

Hookani ka a’o,[117] a hana pilo ka leo,

I ka mahalo i ka pa-ú,

I ka pa-ú wai-lehua a Hi’i-lawe[118] iluna,

Pi’o anuenue a ka ua e ua nei.

[Footnote 92: _Kikepa_. The bias, the one-sided slant given

the pa-ú by tucking it in at one side, as previously

described.]

[Footnote 93: _Imu_. An oven; an allusion to the heat and

passion of the part covered by the pa-ú.]

[Footnote 94: _Hu’a_. Foam; figurative of the fringe at the

border of the pa-ú.]

[Footnote 95: _Kuina_. A term applied to the five sheets that

were stitched together (_kui_) to make a set of bed-clothes.

Five turns also, it is said, complete a pa-ú.]

[Footnote 96: _Pali no Kupe-Hau_. Throughout the poem the pa-ú

is compared to a _pali_, a mountain wall. Kupe-hau is a

precipitous part of Wai-pi’o valley.]

[Footnote 97: _Hono-kane_. A valley near Wai-pi’o. Here it is

personified and said to do the work on the pa-ú.]

[Footnote 98: _Manú_. A proper name given to this pa-ú.]

[Footnote 99: _Kau-kini_. The name of a hill back of

Lahaina-luna, the traditional residence of a _kahuna_ named

_Lua-hoo-moe_, whose two sons were celebrated for their manly

beauty. Ole-pau, the king of the island Maui, ordered his

retainer, Lua-hoo-moe, to fetch for his eating some young

_u-a’u_, a sea-bird that nests and rears its young in the

mountains. These young birds are esteemed a delicacy. The

kahuna, who was a bird-hunter, truthfully told the king that

it was not the season for the young birds; the parent birds

were haunting the ocean. At this some of the king’s boon

companions, moved by ill-will, charged the king’s mountain

retainer with suppressing the truth, and in proof they

brought some tough old birds caught at sea and had them

served for the king’s table. Thereupon the king, not

discovering the fraud, ordered that Lua-hoo-moe should be put

to death by fire. The following verses were communicated to

the author as apropos of Kau-kini, evidently the name of a

man:

Ike ia Kau-kini, he lawaia manu.

He upena ku’u i ka noe i Poha-kahi,

Ua hoopulu ia i ka ohu ka kikepa;

Ke na’i la i ka luna a Kea-auwana;

Ka uahi i ke ka-peku e hei ai ka manu o Pu-o-alii.

O ke alii wale no ka’u i makemake

Ali’a la, ha’o, e!

[Translation.]

Behold Kau-kini, a fisher of birds;

Net spread in the mist of Poha-kahi,

That is soaked by the sidling fog.

It strives on the crest of Koa-auwana.

Smoke traps the birds of Pu-o-alii.

It’s only the king that I wish:

But stay now—I doubt.

]

[Footnote 100: _Auwana_. Said to be an eminence on the flank of

Haleakala, back of Ulupalakua.]

[Footnote 101: _Apua_. A place on Hawaii, on Maui, on Oahu, on

Kauai, and on Molokai.]

[Footnote 102: _Mama ula ia ka malua ula_. The malua-ula was a

variety of tapa that was stained with _hili kukui_ (the

root-bark of the kukui tree). The ripe kukui nut was chewed

into a paste and mingled with this stain. _Mama ula_ refers

to this chewing. The _malua ula_ is mentioned as a foil to

the pa-ú, being a cheap tapa.]

[Footnote 103: _I_. A contracted form of _ti_ or _ki_, the

plant or, as in this case, the leaf of the _ti_, the Dracæna

(pl. V). Liloa, the father Of Umi, used it to cover himself

after his amour with the mother of Umi, having given his malo

in pledge to the woman. Umi may have used this same leaf as a

substitute for the malo while in the wilderness of

Laupahoehoe, hiding away from his brother, King Hakau.]

[Footnote 104: _Oloná_. A strong vegetable fiber sometimes

added to tapa to give it strength. The fibers of olona in

the fabric of the pa-ú are compared to the runnels and

brooklets of _Waihilau_.]

[Footnote 105: _Wai-hilau_. Name applied to the water that

drips in a cave in Puna. It is also the name of a stream in

Wai-pi’o valley, Hawaii.]

[Footnote 106: _Kilo-hana_. The name given the outside,

ornamented, sheet of a set (_kuina_) of five tapas used as

bed-clothing. It was also applied to that part of a pa-ú

which was decorated with figures. The word comes from

_kilohi_, to examine critically, and _hana_, to work, and

therefore means an ornamental work.]

[Footnote 107: _Ohe_. Bamboo. In this case the stamp, made from

bamboo, used to print the tapa.]

[Footnote 108: _Alá_. The hard, dark basalt of which the

Hawaiian _ko’i_, adz, is made; any pebble, or small

water-worn stone, such as would be used to hold in place the

pa-ú while spread out to dry.]

[Footnote 109: _Kane-poha-ka’a_. Kane-the-hail-sender. The

great god Kane was also conceived of as Kane-hekili, the

thunderer; Kane-lulu-honua, the earthquake-sender, etc.]

[Footnote 110: _Wai-manu_ and _Wai-pi’o_ are neighboring

valleys.]

[Footnote 111: _Ko-a’e-kea_. A land in Wai-pi’o valley.]

[Footnote 112: _Mo’ ke kihi_. Mo’ is a contracted form of

_moku_.]

[Footnote 113: _Hoaka._ The name of the moon in its second day,

or of the second day of the Hawaiian month; a crescent.]

[Footnote 114: _O awili o Malu-ó._ The most direct and evident

sense of the word _awili_ is to wrap. It probably means the

wrapping of the pa-ú about the loins; or it may mean the

movable, shifty action of the pa-ú caused by the lively

actions of the dancer. The expression _Malu-ó_ may be taken

from the utterance of the king’s _ilamuku_ (constable or

sheriff) or other official, who, in proclaiming a tabu, held

an idol in his arms and at the same time called out _Kapu,

o-o!_ The meaning is that the pa-ú, when wrapped about the

woman’s loins, laid a tabu on the woman. The old Hawaiian

consulted on the meaning of this passage quoted the

following, which illustrates the fondness of his people for

endless repetitions and play upon words:

Awiliwili i ka hale[119] o ka lauwili, e.

He lauwili ka makani, he Kaua-ula,[120]

I hoapaapa i ka hale o ka lauwili, e:

[Translation.]

Unstable the house of the shifty man,

Fickle as the wind Kaua-ula.

Treachery lurks in the house of Unstable.

]

[Footnote 115: _Kaupoku._ A variant of the usual form, which is

_kaupaku_, the ridgepole of a house, its apex. The pa-ú

when worn takes the shape of a grass house, which has the

form of a haystack.]

[Footnote 116: _Ula ka pali._ Red shows the pali, i. e., the

side hill. This is a euphemism for some accident by which the

pa-ú has been displaced, and an exposure of the person has

taken place, as a result of which the boys scream and even

the sea-bird, the _a’o_, shrieks itself hoarse.]

[Footnote 117: _A’o._ A sea-bird, whose raucous voice is heard

in the air at night at certain seasons.]

[Footnote 118: _Hi’i-lawe_. A celebrated waterfall in Wai-pi’o

valley, Hawaii.]

[Footnote 119: Primitive meaning, house; second, the body as

the house of the soul.]

[Footnote 120: Kaua-ula. A strong wind that shifted from one

point to another, and that blew, often with great violence,

at Lahaina, Maui. The above triplet was often quoted by the

chiefs of olden time apropos of a person who was fickle in

love or residence. As the old book has it, “The double-minded

man is unstable in all his ways.” (_O ke kanáka lolilua ka

manao lauwili kona mau aoao a pau._)]

This is a typical Hawaiian poem of the better sort, keyed in

a highly imaginative strain. The multitude of specific

allusions to topographical names make it difficult to

[Page 54] translate it intelligently to a foreign mind. The poetical

units are often so devised that each new division takes its

clue from the last word of the previous verse, on the

principle of “follow your leader,” a capital feature in

Hawaiian poetry.

[Translation.]

Pa-ú Song

Gird on the pa-ú, garment tucked in one side,

Skirt lacelike and beauteous in staining,

That is wrapped and made fast about the oven.

Bubbly as foam of falling water it stands,

5 Quintuple skirt, sheer as the cliff Kupe-hau.

One journeyed to work on it at Honokane.

Have a care the pa-ú is not filched.

Scent from the robe Manú climbs the valley walls—

Abysses profound, heights twisting the neck.

10 A child is this steep thing of the cliff Kau-kini,

A swelling cloud on the peak of Auwana.

Wondrous the care and toil to make the pa-ú!

What haste to finish, when put a-soak

In the side-glancing stream of Apua!

15 Caught by the rain-scud that searches the glen,

The tinted gown illumines the pali—

The sheeny steep shot with buds of lama—

Outshining the comely malua-ula.

Which one may seize and gird with a strong hand.

20 Leaf of ti for his malo, Umi[121] stood covered.

Look at the oloná fibers inwrought,

Like the trickling brooklets of Wai-hilau.

The oloná fibers knit with strength

This dainty immaculate web, the pa-ú,

25 And the filmy weft of the kilo-hana.

With the small bamboo the tapa is finished.

A fire seems to bud on the pali,

When the tapa is spread out to dry,

Pressed down with stones at Wai-manu—

30 Stones that are shifted about and about,

Stones that are tossed here and there,

Like work of the hail-thrower Kane.

At Wai-manu finished, ’tis cut at Wai-pi’o;

Ha’i takes the bamboo Ko-a’e-kea;

[Page 55] 35 Deftly wields the knife of small-leafed bamboo;

A bamboo choice and fit for the work.

Cut, cut through, cut off the corners;

Cut round, like crescent moon of Hoaka;

Cut in scallops this shift that makes tabu:

40 A fringe is this for the pa-ú.

’Tis lifted by Ka-holo-ku-iwa,

’Tis borne by Pa-wili-wili;

A pa-ú narrow at top like a house,

That’s hung on the roof-tree till morning,

45 Hung on the roof-tree Ha-la’a-wili.

Make a bundle fitting the shoulder;

Lash it fast, rolled tight like a log.

The bundle falls, red shows the pali;

The children shout, they scream in derision.

50 The a’o bird shrieks itself hoarse

In wonder at the pa-ú—

Pa-ú with a sheen like Hi’i-lawe falls,

Bowed like the rainbow arch

Of the rain that’s now falling.

[Footnote 121: _Umi_. It was Liloa, the father of Umi, who

covered himself with a ti leaf instead of a malo after the

amour that resulted in the birth of Umi. His malo he had

given as a pledge to the woman, who became the mother of

Umi.]

The girls of the olapa, their work in the tiring-room

completed, lift their voices in a spirited song, and with a

lively motion pass out into the hall to bloom before the

waiting assembly in the halau in all the glory of their

natural charms and adornments:

_Oli_

Ku ka punohu ula i ka moana;

Hele ke ehu-kai, uhi i ka aina;

Olapa ka uila, noho i Kahiki.

Uina, nakolo,

5 Uwa, ka pihe,

Lau[122] kánaka ka hula.

E Laka, e!

[Translation.]

_Tiring Song_.

The rainbow stands red o’er the ocean;

Mist crawls from the sea and covers the land;

Far as Kahiki flashes the lightning;

A reverberant roar,

5 A shout of applause

From the four hundred.

I appeal to thee, Laka!

[Footnote 122: _Lau_ (archaic). Four hundred.]

[Page 56]

The answering song, led by the kumu, is in the same

flamboyant strain:

_Oli_

Lele Mahu’ilani[123] a luna,

Lewa ia Kauna-lewa![124]

[Translation.]

_Song_

Lift Mahu’ilani on high;

Thy palms Kauna-lewa a-waving!

[Footnote 123: _Mahu’ilani_. A poetical name for the right

hand; this the _olapa_, the dancing girls, lifted in

extension as they entered the halau from the dressing room.

The left hand was termed _Kaohi-lani_.]

[Footnote 124: _Kauna-lewa_. The name of a celebrated grove of

coconuts at Kekaha, Kauai, near the residence of the late Mr.

Knudsen.]

After the ceremony of the pa-ú came that of the lei, a wreath

to crown the head and another for the neck and shoulders. It

was not the custom in the old times to overwhelm the body

with floral decorations and to blur the outlines of the

figure to the point of disfigurement; nor was every flower

that blows acceptable as an offering. The gods were jealous

and nice in their tastes, pleased only with flowers

indigenous to the soil—the ilima (pl. VI), the lehua, the

maile, the ie-ie, and the like (see pp. 19, 20). The ceremony

was quickly accomplished. As the company knotted the garlands

about head or neck, they sang:

_Oli Lei_

Ke lei mai la o Ka-ula i ke kai, e!

Ke malamalama o Niihau, ua malie.

A malie, pa ka Inu-wai.

Ke inu mai la na hala o Naue i ke kai.

5 No Naue, ka hala, no Puna ka wahine.[125]

No ka lua no i Kilauea.

[Translation.]

_Wreath Song_

Ka-ula wears the ocean as a wreath;

Nii-hau shines forth in the calm.

After the calm blows the wind Inu-wai;

Naue’s palms then drink in the salt.

5 From Naue the palm, from Puna the woman—

Aye, from the pit, Kilauea.

Tradition tells a pathetic story (p. 212) in narrating an

incident touching the occasion on which this song first was

sung.

[Footnote 125: _Wahine_. The woman, Pele.]

BULLETIN 38 PLATE VI

[Illustration: ILIMA (SIDA FALLAX) LEI AND FLOWERS]

[Page 57]

IX.—THE HULA ALA’A-PAPA

Every formal hula was regarded by the people of the olden

time as a sacred and religious performance (_tabu_); but all

hulas were not held to be of equal dignity and rank

(_hanohano_). Among those deemed to be of the noblest rank

and honor was the _ala’a-papa_. In its best days this was a

stately and dignified performance, comparable to the

old-fashioned courtly minuet.

We shall observe in this hula the division of the performers

into two sets, the _hoopa’a_ and the _olapa_. Attention will

naturally bestow itself first on the olapa, a division of the

company made up of splendid youthful figures, young men,

girls, and women in the prime of life. They stand a little

apart and in advance of the others, the right hand extended,

the left resting upon the hip, from which hangs in swelling

folds the pa-ú. The time of their waiting for the signal to

begin the dance gives the eye opportunity to make deliberate

survey of the forms that stand before us.

The figures of the men are more finely proportioned, more

statuesque, more worthy of preservation in marble or bronze

than those of the women. Only at rare intervals does one find

among this branch of the Polynesian race a female shape which

from crown to sole will satisfy the canons of

proportion—which one carries in the eye. That is not to say,

however, that the artistic eye will not often meet a shape

that appeals to the sense of grace and beauty. The springtime

of Hawaiian womanly beauty hastes away too soon. Would it

were possible to stay that fleeting period which ushers in

full womanhood!

One finds himself asking the question to what extent the

responsibility for this overthickness of leg and

ankle—exaggerated in appearance, no doubt, by the ruffled

anklets often worn—this pronounced tendency to the growth of

that degenerate weed, fat, is to be explained by the standard

of beauty which held sway in Hawaii’s courts and for many

ages acted as a principle of selection in the physical

molding of the Hawaiian female.

The prevailing type of physique among the Hawaiians, even

more marked in the women than in the men, is the short and

thick, as opposed to the graceful and slender. One does

occasionally find delicacy of modeling in the young and

immature; but with adolescence fatness too often comes to

blur the outline.

The hoopa’a, who act as instrumentalists, very naturally

maintain a position between sitting and kneeling, the better

[Page 58] to enable them to handle that strangely effective drumlike

instrument, the _ipu_, the one musical instrument used as an

accompaniment in this hula. The ipu is made from the bodies

of two larger pear-shaped calabashes of unequal sizes, which

are joined together at their smaller ends in such a manner as

to resemble a figure-of-eight. An opening is left at the top

of the smaller calabash to increase the resonance. In moments

of calm the musicians allow the body to rest upon the heels;

as the action warms they lift themselves to such height as

the bended knee will permit.

The ala’a-papa is a hula of comparatively moderate action.

While the olapa employ hands, feet, and body in gesture and

pose to illustrate the meaning and emotion of the song, the

musicians mark the time by lifting and patting with the right

hand the ipu each holds in the left hand. If the action of

the play runs strong and stirs the emotions, each hoopa’a

lifts his ipu wildly, fiercely smites it, then drops it on

the padded rest in such manner as to bring out its deep

mysterious tone.

At a signal from the kumu, who sits with the hoopa’a, the

_poo-pua’a_, leader of the olapa, calls the mele (_kahea i ka

mele_)—that is, he begins its recitation—in a tone

differing but little from that of ordinary conversation, a

sing-song recitation, a vocalization less stilted and less

punctilious than that usually employed in the utterance of

the oli or mele. The kumu, the leader of the company, now

joins in, mouthing his words in full observance of the mele

style. His manner of cantillation may be either what may be

called the low relief, termed _ko’i-honua_, or a pompous

alto-relievo style, termed _ai-ha’a_. This is the signal for

the whole company to chime in, in the same style as the kumu.

The result, as it seems to the untutored ear, is a confusion

of sounds like that of the many-tongued roar of the ocean.

The songs cantillated for the hula ala’a-papa were many and

of great variety. It seems to have been the practice for the

kumu to arrange a number of mele, or poetical pieces, for

presentation in the hula in such order as pleased him. These

different mele, thus arranged, were called _pale_,

compartments, or _mahele_, divisions, as if they were

integral parts of one whole, while in reality their relation

to one another was only that of the juxtaposition imposed

upon them by the kumu.

The poetical pieces first to be presented were communicated

to the author as mahele, divisions—hardly cantos—in the

sense above defined. They are, however, distinct poems,

though there chances to run through them all a somewhat

similar motive. The origin of many of these is referred to a

past so remote that tradition assigns them to what the

Hawaiians call the _wa po_, the night of tradition, or they

say of them, _no ke akua mai_, they are from the gods. It

[Page 59] matters not how faithful has been the effort to translate

these poems, they will not be found easy of comprehension.

The local allusions, the point of view, the atmosphere that

were in the mind of the savage are not in our minds to-day,

and will not again be in any mind on earth; they defy our

best efforts at reproduction. To conjure up the ghostly

semblance of these dead impalpable things and make them live

again is a problem that must be solved by each one with such

aid from the divining rod of the imagination as the reader

can summon to his help.

Now for the play, the song:

_Mele no Ka Hula Alá’a-papa_

MAHELE-HELE I

PAUKU 1

A Koolau wau, ike i ka ua,

E ko-kolo la-lepo ana ka ua,

E ka’i ku ana, ka’i mai ana ka ua,

E nu mai ana ka ua i ke kuahiwi,

5 E po’i ana ka ua me he nalu la.

E puka, a puka mai ka ua la.

Waliwali ke one i ka hehi’a e ka ua;

Ua holo-wai na kaha-wai;

Ua ko-ké wale na pali.

10 Aia ka wai la i ka ilina,[126] he ilio,

He ilio hae, ke nahu nei e puka.

[Translation.]

_Song for the Hula Alá’a-papa._

CANTO I

STANZA 1

’Twas in Koolau I met with the rain:

It comes with lifting and tossing of dust,

Advancing in columns, dashing along.

The rain, it sighs in the forest;

5 The rain, it beats and whelms, like the surf;

It smites, it smites now the land.

Pasty the earth from the stamping rain;

Full run the streams, a rushing flood;

The mountain walls leap with the rain.

10 See the water chafing its bounds like a dog,

A raging dog, gnawing its way to pass out.

This song is from the story of Hiiaka on her journey to Kauai

to bring the handsome prince, Lohiau, to Pele. The region is

that on the windward, _Koolau_, side of Oahu.

[Footnote 126: _Ilina_. A sink, a place where a stream sinks

into the earth or sand.]

[Page 60]

PAUKU 2

Hoopono oe, he aina kai Waialua i ka hau;

Ke olelo[127] wale no la i ka lani.

Lohe ka uka o ka pehu i Ku-kani-loko.[128]

I-loko, i-waho kaua la, e ka hoa,

5 I kahi e pau ai o ka oni?

Oni ana i ka manawa o ka lili.

Pee oe, pee ana iloko o ka hilahila.

I hilahila wale ia no e oe;

Nou no ka hale,[129] komo mai maloko.

The lines from the fourth to the ninth in this stanza

(_pauku_) represent a dialogue between two lovers.

[Translation.]

STANZA 2

Look now, Waialua, land clothed with ocean-mist—

Its wilderness-cries heaven’s ear only hears,

The wilderness-gods of Ku-kani-loko.

Within or without shall we stay, friend,

5 Until we have stilled the motion?

To toss is a sign of impatience.

You hide, hiding as if from shame,

I am bashful because of your presence;

The house is yours, you’ve only to enter.

PAUKU 3

(Ko’i-honua)

Pakú Kea-au,[130] lulu Wai-akea;[131]

Noho i ka la’i loa o Hana-kahi,[132]

O Hilo, i olokea[133] ia, i au la, e, i kai,

O Lele-iwi,[134] o Maka-hana-loa.[135]

5 Me he kaele-papa[136] la Hilo, i lalo ka noho.

Kaele[137] wale Hilo i ke alai ia e ka ua.

Oi ka niho o ka ua o Hilo i ka lani;

Kua-wa’a-wa’a Hilo eli ’a e ka wai;

Kai-koo, haki na nalu, ka ua o Hilo;

[Page 61] 10 Ha’i lau-wili mai ka nahele.

Nanalu, kahe waikahe o Wai-luku;

Hohonu Waiau,[138] nalo ke poo o ka lae o Moku-pane;[139]

Wai ulaula o Wai-anue-nue;[140]

Ka-wowo nui i ka wai o Kolo-pule-pule;[141]

15 Halulu i ha-ku’i, ku me he uahi la

Ka puá, o ka wai ua o-aka i ka lani.

Eleele Hilo e, pano e, i ka ua;

Okakala ka hulu o Hilo i ke anu;

Pili-kau[142] mai Hilo ia ua loa.

20 Pali-ku laau ka uka o Haili[143]

Ka lae ohi’a e kope-kope,

Me he aha moa la, ka pale pa laau,

Ka nahele o Pa-ie-ie,[144]

Ku’u po’e lehua iwaena konu o Mo-kau-lele;[145]

25 Me ka ha’i laau i pu-kaula hala’i i ka ua.

Ke nana ia la e la’i i Hanakahi.

Oni aku Hilo, oni ku’u kai lipo-lipo,

A Lele-iwi, ku’u kai ahu mimiki a ka Malua.[146]

Lei kahiko, lei nalu ka poai.

30 Nana Pu’u-eo[147] e! makai ka iwi-honua,[148] e!

Puna-hoa la, ino, ku, ku wau a Wai-akea la.

[Footnote 127: _Olelo_. To speak, to converse; here used

figuratively to mean that the place is lonely, has no view of

the ocean, looks only to the sky. “Looks that commerce with

the sky.”]

[Footnote 128: _Ku-kani-loko_. A land in Waialua, Oahu, to

which princesses resorted in the olden times at the time of

childbirth, that their offspring might have the distinction

of being an _alii kapu_, a chief with a tabu.]

[Footnote 129: _Hale_ House; a familiar euphemism of the human

body.]

[Footnote 130: _Kea-au_. An _ahu-pua’a_, small division of

land, in Puna adjoining Hilo, represented as sheltering Hilo

on that side.]

[Footnote 131: _Waiakea_. A river in Hilo, and the land through

which it flows.]

[Footnote 132: _Hana-kahi_. A land on the Hamakua side of Hilo,

also a king whose name was a synonym for profound peace.]

[Footnote 133: _Olo-kea_. To be invited or pulled many ways at

once; distracted.]

[Footnote 134: _Lele-iwi_. A cape on the north side of Hilo.]

[Footnote 135: _Maka-hana-loa_. A cape.]

[Footnote 136: _Kaele-papa_. A large, round, hollowed board on

which to pound taro in the making of poi. The poi-board was

usually long and oval.]

[Footnote 137: _Kaele_. In this connection the meaning is

surrounded, encompassed by.]

[Footnote 138: _Waiau_. The name given to the stretch of

Wailuku river near its mouth.]

[Footnote 139: _Moku-pane_. The cape between the mouth of the

Wailuku river and the town of Hilo.]

[Footnote 140: _Wai-anue-nue_. Rainbow falls and the river that

makes the leap.]

[Footnote 141: _Kolo-pule-pule_. Another branch of the Wailuku

stream.]

[Footnote 142: _Pili-kau_. To hang low, said of a cloud.]

[Footnote 143: _Haili_. A region in the inland, woody, part of

Hilo.]

[Footnote 144: _Pa-ieie_. A well-wooded part of Hilo, once much

resorted to by bird-hunters; a place celebrated in Hawaiian

song.]

[Footnote 145: _Mokau-lele_. A wild, woody region In the

interior of Hilo.]

[Footnote 146: _Malua_. Name given to a wind from a northerly

or northwesterly direction on several of the islands. The

full form is Malua-lua.]

[Footnote 147: _Pu’u-eo_. A village in the Hilo district near

Puna.]

[Footnote 148: _Iwi-honua_. Literally a bone of the earth: a

projecting rock or a shoal; if in the water, an object to be

avoided by the surf-rider. In this connection see note _e_,

p. 36.]

[Translation.]

STANZA 3

(With distinct utterance)

Kea-au shelters, Waiakea lies in the calm,

The deep peace of King Hana-kahi.

Hilo, of many diversions, swims in the ocean,

’Tween Point Lele-iwi and Maka-hana-loa;

5 And the village rests in the bowl,

Its border surrounded with rain—

Sharp from the sky the tooth of Hilo’s rain.

Trenched is the land, scooped out by the downpour—

Tossed and like gnawing surf is Hilo’s rain—

10 Beach strewn with a tangle of thicket growth;

A billowy freshet pours in Wailuku;

Swoll’n is Wai-au, flooding the point Moku-pane;

And red leaps the water of Anue-nue.

A roar to heaven sends up Kolo-pule,

[Page 62] 15 Shaking like thunder, mist rising like smoke.

The rain-cloud unfolds in the heavens;

Dark grows Hilo, black with the rain.

The skin of Hilo grows rough from the cold;

The storm-cloud hangs low o’er the land.

20 A rampart stand the woods of Haili;

Ohi’as thick-set must be brushed aside,

To tear one’s way, like a covey of fowl,

In the wilds of Pa-ie-ie—

Lehua growths mine—heart of Mokau-lele.

25 A breaking, a weaving of boughs, to shield from rain;

A look enraptured on Hana-kahi,

Sees Hilo astir, the blue ocean tossing

Wind-thrown-spray—dear sea—’gainst Point Lele-iwi—

A time-worn foam-wreath to encircle its brow.

30 Look, Pu’u-eo! guard ’gainst the earth-rib!

It’s Puna-hoa reef; halt!

At Waiakea halt!

PAUKU 4

(Ai-ha’a)

Kua loloa Kea-au i ka nahele;

Hala kua hulu-hulu Pana-ewa i ka laau;

Inoino ka maha o ka ohia o La’a.

Ua ku kepakepa ka maha o ka lehua;

5 Ua po-po’o-hina i ka wela a ke Akua.

Ua u-ahi Puna i ka oloka’a pohaku,

I ka huna pa’a ia e ka wahine.

Nanahu ahi ka papa o Olu-ea;

Momoku ahi Puna hala i Apua;

10 Ulu-á ka nahele me ka laau.

Oloka’a kekahi ko’i e Papa-lau-ahi;

I eli ’a kahi ko’i e Ku-lili-kaua.

Kai-ahea a hala i Ka-li’u;

A eu e, e ka La, ka malama-lama.

15 O-na-naka ka piko o Hilo ua me ke one,

I huli i uka la, i hulihia i kai;

Ua wa-wahi ’a, ua na-ha-há,

Ua he-hele-lei!

[Translation.]

STANZA 4

(Bombastic style)

Ke’-au is a long strip of wildwood;

Shag of pandanus mantles Pan’-ewa;

Scraggy the branching of Laa’s ohias;

The lehua limbs at sixes and sevens—

5 They are gray from the heat of the goddess.

[Page 63] Puna smokes mid the bowling of rocks—

Wood and rock the She-god heaps in confusion,

The plain Oluea’s one bed of live coals;

Puna is strewn with fires clean to Apua,

10 Thickets and tall trees a-blazing.

Sweep on, oh fire-ax, thy flame-shooting flood!

Smit by this ax is Ku-lili-kaua.

It’s a flood tide of lava clean to Kali’u,

And the Sun, the light-giver, is conquered.

15 The bones of wet Hilo rattle from drought;

She turns for comfort to mountain, to sea,

Fissured and broken, resolved into dust.

This poem is taken from the story of Hiiaka. On her return

from the journey to fetch Lohiau she found that her sister

Pele had treacherously ravaged with fire Puna, the district

that contained her own dear woodlands. The description given

in the poem is of the resulting desolation.

PAUKA 5

No-luna ka Hale-kai[149] no ka ma’a-lewa,[150]

Nana ka maka ia Moana-nui-ka-lehua.[151]

Noi au i ke Kai, e mali’o.[152]

Ina ku a’e la he lehua[153] ilaila!

5 Hopoe-lehua[154] kiekie.

Maka’u ka lehua i ke kanáka,[155]

Lilo ilalo e hele ai, e-e,

A ilalo hoi.

O Kea-au[156] ili-ili nehe ke kai,

[Page 64] 10 Hoo-lono[157] ke kai o Puna

I ka ulu hala la, e-e,

Kai-ko’o Puna.

Ia hooneenee ia pili mai[158] kaua, e ke hoa.

Ke waiho e mai la oe ilaila.

15 Ela ka mea ino la, he anu,

A he anu me he mea la iwaho kaua, e ke hoa;

Me he wai la ko kaua ili.

[Footnote 149: _Hale-kai_. A wild mountain, glen back of

Hanalei valley, Kauai.]

[Footnote 150: _Ma’alewa_. An aerial root that formed a sort

of ladder by which one climbed the mountain steeps; literally

a shaking sling.]

[Footnote 151: _Moana-nui-ka-lehua_. A female demigod that came

from the South (_Ku-kulu-o-Kahiki_) at about the same

mythical period as that of Pele’s arrival—If not in her

company—and who was put in charge of a portion of the

channel that lies between Kauai and Oahu. This channel was

generally termed _Ie-ie-waena_ and _Ie-ie-waho_. Here the

name _Moana-nui-ka-lehua_ seems to be used to indicate the

sea as well as the demigoddess, whose dominion it was.

Ordinarily she appeared as a powerful fish, but she was

capable of assuming the form of a beautiful woman (mermaid?).

The title _lehua_ was given her on account of her womanly

charms.]

[Footnote 152: _Mali’o_. Apparently another form of the word

_malino_, calm; at any rate it has the same meaning.]

[Footnote 153: _Lehua_. An allusion to the ill-fated’ young

woman Hopoe, who was Hiiaka’s intimate friend. The allusion

is amplified in the next line.]

[Footnote 154: _Hopoe-lehua_. The lehua tree was one of the

forms in which Hopoe appeared, and after her death, due to

the jealous rage of Pele, she was turned into a charred lehua

tree which stood on the coast subject to the beating of the

surf.]

[Footnote 155: _Maka’u ka lehua i ke kanaka_. Another version

has it _Maka’u ke kanaka i ka lehua_; Man fears the lehua.

The form here used is perhaps an ironical allusion to man’s

fondness not only to despoil the tree of its scarlet flowers,

but womanhood, the woman it represented.]

[Footnote 156: _Kea-au_. Often shortened in pronunciation to

_Ke-au_, a fishing village in Puna near Hilo town. It now has

a landing place for small vessels.]

[Footnote 157: _Hoolono_. To call, to make an uproar, to spread

a report.]

[Footnote 158: _Ia hoo-nee-nee ia pili mai_. A very peculiar

figure of speech. It Is as if the poet personified, the act

of two lovers snuggling up close to each other. Compare with

this the expression _No huli mai_, used by another poet in

the thirteenth line of the lyric given on p. 204. The motive

is the same in each case.]

The author of this poem of venerable age is not known. It is

spoken of as belonging to the _wa po_, the twilight of

tradition. It is represented to be part of a mele taught to

Hiiaka by her friend and preceptress in the hula, Hopoe.

Hopoe is often called _Hopoe-wahine_. From internal evidence

one can see that it can not be in form the same as was given

to Hiiaka by Hopoe; it may have been founded on the poem of

Hopoe. If so, it has been modified.

[Translation.]

STANZA 5

From mountain retreat and root-woven ladder

Mine eye looks down on goddess Moana-Lehua;

I beg of the Sea, Be thou calm;

Would there might stand on thy shore a lehua—

5 Lehua-tree tall of Ho-poe.

The lehua is fearful of man;

It leaves him to walk on the ground below,

To walk the ground far below.

The pebbles at Ke’-au grind in the surf.

10 The sea at Ke’-au shouts to Puna’s palms,

“Fierce is the sea of Puna.”

Move hither, snug close, companion mine;

You lie so aloof over there.

Oh what a bad fellow is cold!

15 ’Tis as if we were out on the wold;

Our bodies so clammy and chill, friend!

The last five verses, which sound like a love song, may

possibly be a modern addition to this old poem. The sentiment

they contain is comparable to that expressed in the Song of

Welcome on page 39:

Eia ka pu’u nui o waho nei, he anu.

The hill of Affliction out there is the cold.

[Page 65]

MAHELE-HELE II

Hi’u-o-lani,[159] kii ka ua o Hilo[160] i ka lani;

Ke hookiikii mai la ke ao o Pua-lani;[161]

O mahele ana,[162] pulu Hilo i ka ua—

O Hilo Hana-kahi.[163]

5 Ha’i ka nalu, wai kaka lepo o Pii-lani;

Hai’na ka iwi o Hilo,

I ke ku ia e ka wai.

Oni’o lele a ka ua o Hilo i ka lani.

Ke hookiikii mai la ke ao o Pua-lani,

10 Ke holuholu a’e la e puka,

Puka e nana ke kiki a ka ua,

Ka nonoho a ka ua i ka hale o Hilo.

Like Hilo me Puna ke ku a mauna-ole[164]

He ole ke ku a mauna Hilo me Puna.

15 He kowa Puna mawaena Hilo me Ka-ú;

Ke pili wale la i ke kua i mauna-ole;

Pili hoohaha i ke kua o Mauna-loa.

He kuahiwi Ka-ú e pa ka makani.

Ke alai ia a’e la Ka-ú e ke A’e;[165]

20 Ka-u ku ke ehu lepo ke A’e;

Ku ke ehu-lepo mai la Ka-ú i ka makani.

Makani Kawa hu’a-lepo Ka-ú i ke A’e.

[Page 66] Kahiko mau no o Ka-ú i ka makani.

Makani ka Lae-ka-ilio i Unu-lau,

25 Kaili-ki’i[166] a ka lua a Kaheahea,[167]

I ka ha’a nawali ia ino.

Ino wa o ka mankani o Kau-ná.

Nana aku o ka makani malaila!

O Hono-malino, malino i ka la’i o Kona.

30 He inoa la!

[Footnote 159: _Hi’u-o-lani_. A very blind phrase. Hawaiians

disagree as to its meaning. In the author’s opinion, it is a

word referring to the conjurer’s art.]

[Footnote 160: _Ua o Hilo_. Hilo is a very rainy country. The

name Hilo seems to be used here as almost a synonym of

violent rain. It calls to mind the use of the word Hilo to

signify a strong wind:

Pa mai, pa mai,

Ka makani a Hilo![168]

Waiho ka ipu iki,

Homai ka ipu nui!

[Translation.]

Blow, blow, thou wind of Hilo!

Leave the little calabash,

Bring on the big one!

]

[Footnote 161: _Pua-lani_. The name of a deity who took the

form of the rosy clouds of morning.]

[Footnote 162: _Mahele ana_. Literally the dividing; an

allusion to the fact, it is said, that in Hilo a rain-cloud,

or rain-squall, as it came up would often divide and a part

of it turn off toward Puna at the cape named Lele-iwi,

one-half watering, in the direction of the present town, the

land known as Hana-kahi.]

[Footnote 163: _Hana-kahi_. Look at note _f_, p. 60.]

[Footnote 164: _Mauna-ole_. According to one authority this

should be Mauna-Hilo. Verses 13, 14, 16, and 17 are difficult

of translation. The play on the words _ku a_, standing at, or

standing by, and _kua_, the back; also on the word _kowa_, a

gulf or strait; and the repetition of the word _mauna_,

mountain—all this is carried to such an extent as to be

quite unintelligible to the Anglo-Saxon mind, though full of

significance to a Hawaiian.]

[Footnote 165: _A’e_. A strong wind that prevails in Ka-u. The

same word also means to step on, to climb. This

double-meaning gives the poet opportunity for a euphuistic

word-play that was much enjoyed by the Hawaiians. The

Hawaiians of the present day are not quite up to this sort of

logomachy.]

[Footnote 166: _Kaili-ki’i_. The promontory that shelters the

cove _Ka-hewa-hewa_.]

[Footnote 167: _Ka-hea-hea_. The name of the cove

_Ka-hewa-hewa_, above mentioned, is here given in a softened

form obtained by the elision of the letter _w_.]

[Footnote 168: _Hilo_, or Whiro, as in the Maori, was a great

navigator.]

[Translation.]

CANTO II

Heaven-magic, fetch a Hilo-pour from heaven!

Morn’s cloud-buds, look! they swell in the East.

The rain-cloud parts, Hilo is deluged with rain,

The Hilo of King Hana-kahi.

5 Surf breaks, stirs the mire of Pii-lani; 5

The bones of Hilo are broken

By the blows of the rain.

Ghostly the rain-scud of Hilo in heaven;

The cloud-forms of Pua-lani grow and thicken.

10 The rain-priest bestirs him now to go forth,

Forth to observe the stab and thrust of the rain,

The rain that clings to the roof of Hilo.

Hilo, like Puna, stands mountainless;

Aye, mountain-free stand Hilo and Puna.

15 Puna ’s a gulf ’twixt Ka-ú and Hilo;

Just leaning her back on Mount Nothing,

She sleeps at the feet of Mount Loa.

A mountain-back is Ka-ú which the wind strikes,

Ka-ú, a land much scourged by the A’e.

20 A dust-cloud lifts in Ka-ú as one climbs.

A dust-bloom floats, the lift of the wind:

’Tis blasts from mountain-walls piles dust, the A’e.

Ka-ú was always tormented with wind.

Cape-of-the-Dog feels Unulau’s blasts;

25 They turmoil the cove of Ka-hea-hea,

Defying all strength with their violence.

There’s a storm when wind blows at Kau-ná.

Just look at the tempest there raging!

Hono-malino sleeps sheltered by Kona.

30 A eulogy this of a name.

“What name?” was asked of the old Hawaiian.

“A god,” said he.

“How is that? A mele-inoa celebrates the name and glory of a

king, not of a god.”

[Page 67]

His answer was, “The gods composed the mele; men did not

compose it.”

Like an old-time geologist, he solved the puzzle of a novel

phenomenon by ascribing it to God.

MAHELE III

(Ai-ha’a)

A Koa’e-kea,[169] i Pueo-hulu-nui,[169]

Neeu a’e la ka makahiapo o ka pali;

A a’e, a a’e, a’e[170] la iluna

Kaholo-kua-iwa, ka pali o Ha’i.[171]

5 Ha’i a’e la ka pali;

Ha-nu’u ka pali;

Hala e Malu-ó;

Hala a’e la Ka-maha-la’a-wili,

Ke kaupoku hale a ka ua.

10 Me he mea i uwae’na a’e la ka pali;

Me he hale pi’o ka lei na ka manawa o ka pali Halehale-o-ú;

Me he aho i hilo ’a la ka wai o Wai-hi-lau;

Me he uahi pulehu-manu la ke kai o ka auwala hula ana.

Au ana Maka’u-kiu[172] iloko o ke kai;

15 Pohaku lele[173] o Lau-nui, Lau-pahoehoe.

Ka eku’na a ke kai i ka ala o Ka-wai-kapu—

Eku ana, me he pua’a la, ka lae Makani-lele,

Koho-lá-lele.

[Translation.]

CANTO III

(Bombastic style)

Haunt of white tropic-bird and big ruffled owl,

Up rises the firstborn child of the pali.

He climbs, he climbs, he climbs up aloft,

Kaholo-ku’-iwa, the pali of Ha’i.

5 Accomplished now is the steep,

The ladder-like series of steps.

Malu-ó is left far below.

[Page 68] Passed is Ka-maha-la’-wili,

The very ridge-pole of the rain—

10 It’s as if the peak cut it in twain—

An arched roof the peak’s crest Hale-hale-o-ú.

A twisted cord hangs the brook Wai-hilau;

Like smoke from roasting bird Ocean’s wild dance;

The shark-god is swimming the sea;

15 The rocks leap down at Big-leaf[174] and Flat-leaf—[174]

See the ocean charge ’gainst the cliffs,

Thrust snout like rooting boar against Windy-cape,

Against Koholá-lele.

[Footnote 169: _Koa’e-kea, Pueo hulu-nui_. Steep declivities,

_pali_, on the side of Waipio valley, Hawaii. Instead of

inserting these names, which would be meaningless without an

explanation, the author has given a literal translation of

the names themselves, thus getting a closer insight into the

Hawaiian thought.]

[Footnote 170: _A’e_. The precipices rise one above another

like the steps of a stairway, climbing, climbing up, though

the probable intent of the poet is to represent some one as

climbing the ascent.]

[Footnote 171: _Ha’i_. Short for _Ha’ina-kolo;_ a woman about

whom there is a story of tragic adventure. Through eating

when famished of some berries in an unceremonious way she

became distraught and wandered about for many months until

discovered by the persistent efforts of her husband. The pali

which she climbed was named after her.]

[Footnote 172: _Maka’u-kiu_. The name of a famous huge shark

that was regarded with reverential fear.]

[Footnote 173: _Pohaku lele_. In order to determine whether a

shark was present, it was the custom, before going into the

clear water of some of these coves, to throw rocks into the

water in order to disturb the monster and make his presence

known.]

[Footnote 174: _Big-leaf_. A literal translation of _Lau-nui_.

_Laupahoehoe_, Flat-leaf.]

MAHELE IV

Hole[175] Waimea i ka ihe a ka makani,

Hao mai na ale a ke Ki-pu’u-pu’u;[176]

He laau kala-ihi ia na ke anu,

I o’o i ka nahele o Mahiki.[177]

5 Ku aku la oe i ka Malanai[178] a ke Ki-puu-puu;

Nolu ka maka o ka oha-wai[179] o Uli;

Niniau, eha ka pua o Koaie,[180]

Eha i ke anu ka nahele o Wai-ka-é,

A he aloha, e!

10 Aloha Wai-ká, ia’u me he ipo la;

Me he ipo la ka maka lena o ke Koo-lau,[181]

Ka pua i ka nahele o Mahule-i-a,

E lei hele i ke alo o Moo-lau.[182]

E lau ka huaka’i-hele i ka pali loa;

15 Hele hihiu, puli[183] noho i ka nahele.

O ku’u noho wale iho no i kahua, e-e.

A he aloha, e-e!

O kou aloha ka i hiki mai i o’u nei.

Mahea la ia i nalo iho nei?

This mele, _Hole Waimea_, is also sung in connection with the

hula _ipu_.

[Footnote 175: _Hole_. To rasp, to handle rudely, to caress

passionately. Waimea is a district and village on Hawaii.]

[Footnote 176: _Kipu’u-pu’u_. A cold wind from Mauna-Kea that

blows at Waimea.]

[Footnote 177: _Mahiki_. A woodland in Waimea, in mythological

times haunted by demons and spooks.]

[Footnote 178: _Mala-nai_. The poetical name of a wind,

probably the trade wind; a name much used in Hawaiian

sentimental poetry.]

[Footnote 179: _Oha-wai_. A water hole that is filled by

dripping; an important source of supply for drinking purposes

in certain parts of Hawaii.]

[Footnote 180: _Pua o Koaie_, The koaie is a tree that grows in

the wilds, the blossom of which is extremely fragrant. (Not

the same as that subspecies of the _koa_ (Acacia koa) which

Hillebrand describes and wrongly spells _koaia_. Here a

euphemism for the delicate parts.)]

[Footnote 181: _Koolau_, or, full form, _Ko-kao-lau_. Described

by Doctor Hillebrand as _Kokolau_, a wrong spelling. It has a

pretty yellow flower, a yellow eye—_maka lena_—as the song

has it. Here used tropically. (This is the plant whose leaf

is sometimes used as a substitute for tea.)]

[Footnote 182: _Moolau_. An expression used figuratively to

mean a woman, more especially her breasts. The term

_Huli-lau_, is also used, in a slang way, to signify the

breasts of a woman, the primitive meaning being a calabash.]

[Footnote 183: _Pili_. To touch; touched. This was the word

used in the forfeit-paying love game, _kilu_, when the player

made a point by hitting the target of his opponent with his

_kilu_. (For further description see p. 235.)]

[Page 69]

The song above given, the translation of which is to follow,

belongs to historic times, being ascribed to King

Liholiho—Kamehameha II—who died in London July 13, 1824, on

his visit to England. It attained great vogue and still holds

its popularity with the Hawaiians. The reader will note the

comparative effeminacy and sentimentality of the style and

the frequent use of euphemisms and double-entendre. The

double meaning in a Hawaiian mele will not always be evident

to one whose acquaintance with the language is not intimate.

To one who comes to it from excursions in Anglo-Saxon poetry,

wandering through its “meadows trim with daisies pied,” the

sly intent of the Hawaiian, even when pointed out, will, no

doubt, seem an inconsequential thing and the demonstration of

it an impertinence, if not a fiction to the imagination. Its

euphemisms in reality have no baser intent than the euphuisms

of Lyly, Ben Jonson, or Shakespeare.

[Translation.]

_Song—Hole Waimea_

PART IV

Love tousled Waimea with shafts of the wind,

While Kipuupuu puffed jealous gusts.

Love is a tree that blights in the cold,

But thrives in the woods of Mahiki.

5 Smitten art thou with the blows of love;

Luscious the water-drip in the wilds;

Wearied and bruised is the flower of Koaie;

Stung by the frost the herbage of Wai-ka-é:

And this—it is love.

10 Wai-ká loves me like a sweetheart.

Dear as my heart Koolau’s yellow eye,

My flower in the tangled wood, Hule-í-a,

A travel-wreath to lay on love’s breast,

A shade to cover my journey’s long climb.

15 Love-touched, distraught, mine a wilderness-home;

But still do I cherish the old spot,

For love—it is love.

Your love visits me even here:

Where has it been hiding till now?

PAUKU 2

Kau ka ha-é-a, kau o ka hana wa ele,

Ke ala-ula ka makani,

Kulu a e ka ua i kou wahi moe.

Palepale i na auwai o lalo;

5 Eli mawaho o ka hale o Koolau, e.

E lau Koolau, he aina ko’e-ko’e;

Maka’u i ke anu ka uka o ka Lahuloa.

Loa ia mea, na’u i waiho aku ai.

[Page 70]

[Translation.]

STANZA 2

A mackerel sky, time for foul weather;

The wind raises the dust—

Thy couch is a-drip with the rain;

Open the door, let’s trench about the house:

5 Koolau, land of rain, will shoot green leaves.

I dread the cold of the uplands.

An adventure that of long ago.

The poem above given from beginning to end is figurative, a

piece of far-fetched, enigmatical symbolism in the lower

plane of human nature.

PAUKU 3

Hoe Puna i ka wa’a po-lolo’[184] a ka ino;

Ha-uke-uke i ka wa o Koolau:

Eha e! eha la!

Eha i ku’i-ku’i o ka Ulu-mano.[185]

5 Hala ’e ka walu-ihe a ke A’e,[186]

Ku iho i ku’i-ku’i a ka Ho-li’o;[187]

Hana ne’e ke kikala o ko Hilo Kini.

Ho’i lu’u-lu’u i ke one o Hana-kahi,[188]

I ka po-lolo’ ua wahine o ka lua:

10 Mai ka lua no, e!

[Translation.]

STANZA 3

Puna plies paddle night-long in the storm;

Is set back by a shift in the weather,

Feels hurt and disgruntled;

Dismayed at slap after slap of the squalls;

5 Is struck with eight blows of Typhoon;

Then smit with the lash of the North wind.

Sad, he turns back to Hilo’s sand-beach:

He’ll shake the town with a scandal—

The night-long storm with the hag of the pit,

10 Hag from Gehenna!

[Footnote 184: _Po-lolo_. A secret word, like a cipher, made up

for the occasion and compounded of two words, _po_, night,

and _loloa_, long, the final _a_, of _loloa_ being dropped.

This form of speech was called _kepakepa_, and was much used

by the Hawaiians in old times.]

[Footnote 185: _Ulu-mano_. A violent wind which blows by night

only on the western side of Hawaii. Kamehameha with a company

of men was once wrecked by this wind off Nawawa; a whole

village was burned to light them ashore. (Dictionary of the

Hawaiian Language, by Lorrin Andrews.)]

[Footnote 186: _Walu-ihe a ke A’e_. The _A’e_ is a violent wind

that is described as blowing from different points of the

compass in succession; a circular storm. _Walu-ihe_—eight

spears—was a name applied to this same wind during a certain

portion of its circuitous range, covering at least eight

different points, as observed by the Hawaiians. It was well

fitted, therefore, to serve as a figure descriptive of eight

different lovers, who follow each other in quick succession,

in the favors of the same wanton.]

[Footnote 187: _Ho-li’o_ The name of a wind, but of an entirely

different character from those above mentioned.]

[Footnote 188: _Hana-kahi_. (See note _f_, p. 60.)]

[Page 71]

This is not a line-for-line translation; that the author

found infeasible. Line 8 of the English represents line 7 of

the Hawaiian. Given more literally, it might be, “He’ll shake

the buttocks of Hilo’s forty thousand.”

The metaphor of this song is disjointed, but hot with the

primeval passions of humanity.

PAUKU 4

Ho-ina-inau mea ipo i ka nahele;

Haa-kokoe ana ka maka i ka Moani,

I ka ike i na pua i hoomahie ’Iuna;

Ua hi-hi-hina wale i ka moe awakea.

5 Ka ino’ ua poina ia Mali’o.

Aia ka i Pua-lei o Ha’o.

I Puna no ka waihona o ka makani;

Kaela ka malama ana a ka Pu’u-lena,

I kahi mea ho-aloha-loha, e!

10 E aloha, e!

[Translation.]

STANZA 4

Love is at play in the grove,

A jealous swain glares fierce

At the flowers tying love-knots,

Lying wilted at noon-tide.

5 So you’ve forgotten Mali’o,

Turned to the flower of Puna—

Puna, the cave of shifty winds.

Long have I cherished this blossom,

A treasure hid in my heart!

10 Oh, sweetheart!

The following account is taken from the Polynesian Researches

of the Rev. William Ellis, the well-known English missionary,

who visited these islands in the years 1822 and 1823, and

whose recorded observations have been of the highest value in

preserving a knowledge of the institutions of ancient Hawaii.

In the afternoon, a party of strolling musicians and dancers

arrived at Kairua. About four o’clock they came, followed by

crowds of people, and arranged themselves on a fine sandy

beach in front of one of the governor’s houses, where they

exhibited a native dance, called _hura araapapa_.

The five musicians first seated themselves in a line on the

ground, and spread a piece of folded cloth on the sand before

them. Their instrument was a large calabash, or rather two,

one of an oval shape about three feet high, the other

perfectly round, very neatly fastened to it, having also an

aperture about three inches in diameter at the top. Each

musician held his instrument before him with both hands, and

produced his music by striking it on the ground, where he had

laid a piece of cloth, and beating it with his fingers, or

the palms of his hands. As soon as they began to sound their

calabashes, the dancer, a young man about the middle stature,

advanced through the opening crowd.

[Page 72]

His jet-black hair hung in loose and flowing ringlets on his

naked shoulders; his necklace was made of a vast number of

strings of nicely braided human hair, tied together behind,

while a _paraoa_ (an ornament made of a whale’s tooth) hung

pendent from it on his breast; his wrists were ornamented

with bracelets formed of polished tusks of the hog, and his

ankles with loose buskins, thickly set with dog’s teeth, the

rattle of which, during the dance, kept time with the music

of the calabash drum. A beautiful yellow tapa was tastefully

fastened round his loins, reaching to his knees. He began his

dance in front of the musicians, and moved forward and

backwards, across the area, occasionally chanting the

achievements of former kings of Hawaii. The governor sat at

the end of the ring, opposite to the musicians, and appeared

gratified with the performance, which continued until the

evening. (Vol. IV, 100–101, London, Fisher, Son & Jackson,

1831.)

NOTE BY THE AUTHOR.—At the time of Mr. Ellis’ visit to

Hawaii the orthography of the Hawaiian language was still in

a formative stage, and it is said that his counsels had

influence in shaping it. His use of _r_ instead of _l_ in the

words _hula, alaapapa_, and _palaoa_ may, therefore, be

ascribed to the fact of his previous acquaintance with the

dialects of southern Polynesia, in which the sound of _r_ to

a large extent substitutes that of _l_, and to the

probability that for that reason his ear was already attuned

to the prevailing southern fashion, and his judgment

prepossessed in that direction.

[Illustration:

PLATE VII

IPU HULA, GOURD DRUM]

[Page 73]

X.—THE HULA PA-ÍPU, OR KUÓLO

The _pa-ípu_, called also the _kuólo_, was a hula of

dignified character, in which all the performers maintained

the kneeling position and accompanied their songs with the

solemn tones of the _ípu_ (pl. vii), with which each one was

provided. The proper handling of this drumlike instrument in

concert with the cantillation of the mele made such demands

upon the artist, who was both singer and instrumentalist,

that only persons of the most approved skill and experience

were chosen to take part in the performance of this hula.

The manner of treating the ípu in this hula differed somewhat

from that employed in the ala’a-papa, being subdued and quiet

in that, whereas in the pa-ípu it was at times marked with

great vigor and demonstrativeness, so that in moments of

excitement and for the expression of passion, fierce joy, or

grief the ípu might be lifted on high and wildly brandished.

It thus made good its title as the most important instrument

of the Hawaiian orchestra.

In the pa-ípu, as in the hulas generally, while the actors

were sometimes grouped according to sex, they were quite as

often distributed indiscriminately, the place for the leader,

the kumu, being the center.

The vigor that marks the literary style of the mele now given

stamps it as belonging to the archaic period, which closed in

the early part of the eighteenth century, that century which

saw the white man make his advent in Hawaii. The poem deals

apparently with an incident in one of the migrations such as

took place during the period of intercourse between the North

and the South Pacific. This was a time of great stir and

contention, a time when there was much paddling and sailing

about and canoe-fleets, often manned by warriors, traversed

the great ocean in every direction. It was then that Hawaii

received many colonists from the archipelagoes that lie to

the southward.

_Mele_

(Ko’i-honua)

Wela Kahiki, e!

Wela Kahiki, e!

Wela aku la Kahiki;

Ua kaulu-wela ka moku;

[Page 74] 5 Wela ka ulu o Hawaii;

Kakala wela aku la Kahiki ia Olopana,[189]

Ka’u wahi kanaka;

O ka hei kapu[190] o Hana-ka-ulani,[191]

Ka hei kapu a ke alii,

10 Ka hoo-mamao-lani,[192]

Ke kapu o Keawe,[193]

A o Keawe

Ke alii holo, ho-i’a i kai, e-e!

[Footnote 189: _Olopana_. A celebrated king of Waipio valley,

Hawaii, who had to wife the famous beauty, Luukia. Owing to

misfortune, he sailed away to _Kahiki_, taking with him his

wife and his younger brother, Moikeha, who was his

_puna-lua_, settling in a land called _Moa-ula-nui-akea_.

Olopana probably ended his days in his new-found home, but

Moi-keha, heart-sick at the loss of Luukia’s favors, came

back to Hawaii and became the progenitor of a line of

distinguished men, several of whom were famous navigators.

Exactly what incident in the life of Olopana is alluded to in

the sixth and preceding verses, the traditions that narrate

his adventures do not inform us.]

[Footnote 190: _Hei kapu_. An oracle; the place where the high

priest kept himself while consulting the deities of the

_heiau_. It was a small house erected on an elevated platform

of stones, and there he kept himself in seclusion at such

times as he sought to be the recipient of communications from

the gods.]

[Footnote 191: _Hana-ka-ulani_. A name applied to several

_heiau_ (temples). The first one so styled, according to

tradition, was built at Hana, Maui, and another one at

Kaluanui, on Oahu, near the famous valley of Ka-liu-wa’a.

These heiau are said to have been built by the gods in the

misty past soon after landing on these shores. Was it to

celebrate their escape from perils by sea and enemies on

land, or was it in token of thankfulness to gods still higher

than themselves?

The author’s informant can not tell whether these followed

the fierce, strict cult of Kane or the milder cult of Lono.]

[Footnote 192: _Hoo-mamao-lani_. An epithet meaning remote in

the heavens, applied to an alii of very high rank.]

[Footnote 193: _Keawe_. This is a name that belonged, to

several kings and a large family of gods—_papa akua_—all of

which gods are said to have come from Kahiki and to have

dated their origin from the _Wa Po_, the twilight of

antiquity. Among the demigods that were called _Keawe_ may be

mentioned: (1) _Keawe-huli_, a prophet and soothsayer. (2)

_Keawe-kilo-pono_, a wise and righteous one, who loved

justice. (3) _Keawe-hula-maemae_. It was his function to

maintain purity and cleanliness; he was a devouring flame

that destroyed rubbish and all foulness. (4)

_Keawe-ula-o-ka-lani_. This was the poetical appellation,

given to the delicate flush of early morning. Apropos of this

the Hawaiians have the following quatrain, which they

consider descriptive not only of morning blush, but also of

the coming in of the reign of the gods:

O Keawe-ula-i-ka-lani,

O Keawe-liko-i-ka-lani,

O Ke’awe-uina-pohá-i-Kahiki;

Hiki mai ana o Lono.[Translation.]

Keawe-the-red-blush-of-dawn,

Keawe-the-bud-in-the-sky,

Keawe-thunder-burst-at-Kahiki:

Till Lono comes in to reign.

(5) _Keawe-pa-makani_. It was his function to send winds from

_Kukulu-o-Kahiki_, as well as from some other points. (6)

_Keawe-ío-ío-moa_. This god inspected the ocean tides and

currents, such as _Au-miki_ and _Au-ká_. (7)

_Keawe-i-ka-liko_. He took charge of flowerbuds and tender

shoots, giving them a chance to develop. (8) _Keawe-ulu-pu_.

It was his function to promote the development and fruitage

of plants. (9) _Keawe-lu-pua_. He caused flowers to shed

their petals. (10) _Keawe-opala_. It was his thankless task

to create rubbish and litter by scattering the leaves of the

trees. (11) _Keawe-hulu_, a magician, who could blow a

feather into the air and see it at once become a bird with

power to fly away. (12) _Keawe-nui-ka-ua-o-Hilo_, a sentinel

who stood guard by night and by day to watch over all

creation. (13) _Keawe-pulehu_. He was a thief and served as

[Page 75] cook for the gods. There were gods of evil as well as of good

in this set. (14) _Keawe-oili_. He was gifted with the power

to convey and transfer evil, sickness, misfortune, and death.

(15) _Keawe-kaili_. He was a robber. (16) _Keawe-aihue_. He

was a thief. (17) _Keawe-makilo_. He was a beggar. He would

stand round while others were preparing food, doing honest

work, and plead with his eyes. In this way he often obtained

a dole. (18) _Keawe-puni-pua’a_. He was a glutton, very greedy

of pork; he was also called _Keawe-ai-pua’a_. (19)

_Keawe-inoino_. He was a sloven, unclean in all his ways.

(20) _Keawe-ilio_. The only title to renown of this

superhuman creature was his inordinate fondness for the flesh

of the dog. So far none of the superhuman beings mentioned

seemed fitted to the role of the Keawe of the text, who was

passionately fond of the sea. The author had given up in

despair, when one day, on repeating his inquiry in another

quarter, he was rewarded by learning of—(21)

_Keawe-i-na-kai_. He was a resident of the region about the

southeastern point of Molokai, called _Lae-ka-Ilio_—Cape of

the Dog. He was extravagantly fond of the ocean and allowed

no weather to interfere with the indulgence of his penchant.

An epithet applied to him describes his dominating passion:

_Keawe moe i ke kai o Kohakú_, Keawe who sleeps in (or on)

the sea of Kohakú. It seems probable that this was the Keawe

mentioned in the twelfth and thirteenth lines of the mele.

The appellation _Keawe_ seems to have served as a sort of

Jack among the demigods of the Hawaiian pantheon, on whom was

to be laid the burden of a mongrel host of virtues and vices

that were not assignable to the regular orthodox deities.

Somewhat in the same way do we use the name Jack as a

caption, for a miscellaneous lot of functions, as when we

speak of a “Jack-at-all-trades.”]

[Translation.]

Song

(Distinct utterance)

Glowing is Kahiki, oh!

Glowing is Kahiki!

Lo, Kahiki is a-blaze,

The whole island a-burning.

5 Scorched is thy scion, Hawaii.

Kahiki shoots flame-tongues at Olopana,

That hero of yours, and priest

Of the oracle Hana-ka-ulani,

The sacred shrine of the king—

10 He is of the upper heavens,

The one inspired by Keawe,

That tabu-famous Keawe,

The king passion-fond of the sea.

_Mele_

PALE I

Lau lehua punoni ula ke kai o Kona,

Ke kai punoni ula i oweo ia;

Wewena ula ke kai la, he kokona;

Ula ia kini i ka uka o Alaea,

5 I hili ahi ula i ke kapa a ka wahine,

I hoeu ia e ka ni’a, e ka hana,

E ka auwai lino mai la a kehau.

He hau hoomoe ka lau o ka niu,

Ke oho o ka laau, lauoho loloa.

10 E lóha ana i ka la i o Kailua la, i-u-a,

O ke ku moena ololi a ehu

O ku’u aina kai paeaea.

Ea, hoea iluna o Mauna Kilohana,

Na kaha poohiwi mau no he inoa.

15 Ua noa e, ua pii’a kou wahi kapu, e-e!

I a’e ’a mai e ha’i.

[Page 76]

[Translation.]

_Song_

CANTO I

Leaf of lehua and noni-tint, the Kona sea,

Iridescent saffron and red,

Changeable watered red, peculiar to Kona;

Red are the uplands Alaea;

5 All, ’tis the flame-red stained robes of women

Much tossed by caress or desire.

The weed-tangled water-way shines like a rope of pearls,

Dew-pearls that droop the coco leaf,

The hair of the trees, their long locks—

10 Lo, they wilt in the heat of Kailua the deep.

A mat spread out narrow and gray,

A coigne of land by the sea where the fisher drops hook.

Now looms the mount Kilohana—

Ah, ye wood-shaded heights, everlasting your fame!

15 Your tabu is gone! your holy of holies invaded!

Broke down by a stranger!

The intricately twisted language of this mele is allegorical,

a rope whose strands are inwrought with passion, envy,

detraction, and abuse. In translating it one has to choose

between the poetic verbal garb and the esoteric meaning which

the bard made to lurk beneath the surface.

_Mele_

PALE II

Kauó pu ka iwa kala-pahe’e,

Ka iwa, ka manu o Kaula i ka makani.

E ka manu o-ú pani-wai o Lehua,

O na manu kapu a Kuhai-moana,

5 Mai hele a luna o Lei-no-ai,

O kolohe, o alai mai ka Unu-lau.

Puni’a iluna o ka Halau-a-ola;

A ola aku i ka luna o Maka-iki-olea,

I ka lulu, i ka la’i o kai maio,

10 Ma ka ha’i-wá, i ka mole o Lehua la, Le-hú-a!

O na lehua o Alaka’i ka’u aloha,

O na lehua iluna o Ko’i-alana;

Ua nonoho hooipo me ke kohe-kohe;

Ua anu, maeele i ka ua noe.

15 Ua mai oe; kau a’e ka naná, laua nei, e-e,

Na ’lii e o’oni mai nei, e-e!

[Translation.]

_Song_