Unwritten Literature of Hawaii: The Sacred Songs of the Hula
by Nathaniel Bright Emerson · English · Gutenberg #20299 · 829,371 chars · public domain (US)
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Title: Unwritten Literature of Hawaii: The Sacred Songs of the Hula
Author: Nathaniel Bright Emerson
Release date: January 6, 2007 [eBook #20299]
Most recently updated: September 30, 2021
Language: English
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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK UNWRITTEN LITERATURE OF HAWAII: THE SACRED SONGS OF THE HULA ***
[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
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