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Hawaiian
Girl of the Old Régime.
Hawaiian Folk Tales, A Collection
of Native Legends
Compiled by Thos.
G. Thrum
With
sixteen illustrations from photographs
Chicago, A. C. McClurg & Co., 1907
Preface
It is becoming more and more a matter of
regret that a larger amount of systematic effort was not
established in early years for the gathering and preservation of the
folk-lore of the Hawaiians. The world is under lasting obligations to
the late Judge Fornander, and to Dr. Rae before him, for their
painstaking efforts to gather the history of this people and trace their
origin and migrations; but Fornander’s work only has seen the light, Dr.
Rae’s manuscript having been accidentally destroyed by fire.
The early attempts of Dibble and Pogue to
gather history from Hawaiians themselves have preserved to native and
foreign readers much that would probably otherwise have been lost. To
the late Judge Andrews we are indebted for a very full grammar and
dictionary of the language, as also for a valuable manuscript collection
of meles and antiquarian literature that passed to the custody of the
Board of Education.
There were native historians in those days;
the newspaper articles of S. M. Kamakau, the earlier writings of David
Malo, and the later contributions of G. W. Pilipo and others are but
samples of a wealth of material, most of which has been lost forever to
the world. From time to time Prof. W. D. Alexander, [vi]as also C. J.
Lyons, has furnished interesting extracts from these and other hakus.
The Rev. A. O. Forbes devoted some time and
thought to the collecting of island folk-lore: and King Kalakaua took
some pains in this line also, as evidenced by his volume of “Legends and
Myths of Hawaii,” edited by R. M. Daggett, though there is much therein
that is wholly foreign to ancient Hawaiian customs and thought. No one
of late years had a better opportunity than Kalakaua toward collecting
the meles, kaaos, and traditions of his race; and for purposes looking
to this end there was established by law a Board of Genealogy, which had
an existence of some four years, but nothing of permanent value resulted
therefrom.
Fornander’s manuscript collection of meles,
legends, and genealogies in the vernacular has fortunately become, by
purchase, the property of the Hon. C. R. Bishop, which insures for
posterity the result of one devoted scholar’s efforts to rescue the
ancient traditions that are gradually slipping away; for the haku meles
(bards) of Hawaii are gone. This fact, as also the Hawaiian Historical
Society’s desire to aid and stimulate research into the history and
traditions of this people, strengthens the hope that some one may yet
arise to give us further insight into the legendary folk-lore of this
interesting race. T. G. T., Honolulu, January 1, 1907.
Note
In response
to repeated requests, the compiler now presents in book form the series
of legends that have been made a feature of “The Hawaiian Annual” for a
number of years past. The series has been enriched by the addition of
several tales, the famous shark legend having been furnished for this
purpose from the papers of the Hawaiian Historical Society.
The collection embraces contributions by the
Rev. A. O. Forbes, Dr. N. B. Emerson, J. S. Emerson, Mrs. E. M. Nakuina,
W. M. Gibson, Dr. C. M. Hyde, and others, all of whom are recognized
authorities.
Legends
Resembling Old Testament History
Exploits of Maui
Snaring the Sun
The Origin of Fire
Pele and the Deluge
Pele and
Kahawali
Hiku and Kawelu
Location of the Lua o Milu
Lonopuha; or, Origin
of the Art of Healing in Hawaii
A Visit to the
Spirit Land; or, The Strange Experience of a Woman in Kona, Hawaii
Kapeepeekauila; or, The Rocks of Kana
Kalelealuaka
Stories of the
Menehunes: Hawaii the Original Home of the Brownies
Moke Manu’s Account
Pi’s Watercourse
Laka’s Adventure
Kekupua’s Canoe
As Heiau Builders
Kahalaopuna,
Princess of Manoa
Ahuula: A Legend of
Kanikaniaula and the First Feather Cloak
Kaala and Kaaialii: A
Legend of Lanai
The Tomb of Puupehe:
A Legend of Lanai
Ai Kanaka: A Legend
of Molokai
Kaliuwaa. Scene of
the Demigod Kamapuaa’s Escape from Olopana
Battle of the Owls
This Land is
the Sea’s. Traditional Account of an Ancient Hawaiian Prophecy
Ku-ula, the Fish God
of Hawaii
Aiai, Son of Ku-ula.
Part II of the Legend of Ku-ula, the Fish God of Hawaii
Kaneaukai: A Legend
of Waialua
The Shark-man,
Nanaue
Legends Resembling
Old Testament History, Rev. C. M. Hyde, D.D.
In the first volume of Judge Fornander’s
elaborate work on “The Polynesian Race” he has given some old Hawaiian
legends which closely resemble the Old Testament history. How shall we
account for such coincidences?
Take, for instance, the Hawaiian account of
the Creation. The Kane, Ku and Lono: or, Sunlight, Substance, and
Sound,—these constituted a triad named Ku-Kaua-Kahi, or the Fundamental
Supreme Unity. In worship the reverence due was expressed by such
epithets as Hi-ka-po-loa, Oi-e, Most Excellent, etc. “These gods existed
from eternity, from and before chaos, or, as the Hawaiian term expressed
it, ‘mai ka po mia’ (from the time of night, darkness, chaos). By an act
of their will these gods dissipated or broke into pieces the existing,
surrounding, all-containing po, night, or chaos. By this act light
entered into space. They then created the heavens, three in number, as a
place to dwell in; and the earth to be their footstool, he keehina honua
a Kane. Next they created the sun, moon, stars, and a host of angels, or
spirits—i kini akua—to minister to them. Last of all they created man as
the model, or in the likeness of Kane. The body of the first man was
made of red earth—lepo ula, or alaea—and the spittle of the gods—wai nao.
His head was made of a whitish clay—palolo—which was brought from the
four ends of the world by Lono. When the earth-image of Kane was ready,
the three gods breathed into its nose, and called on it to rise, and it
became a living being. Afterwards the first woman was created from one
of the ribs—lalo puhaka—of the man while asleep, and these two were the
progenitors of all mankind. They are called in the chants and in various
legends by a large number of different names; but the most common for
the man was Kumuhonua, and for the woman Keolakuhonua [or Lalahonua].
“Of the creation of animals these chants are
silent; but from the pure tradition it may be inferred that the earth at
the time of its creation or emergence from the watery chaos was stocked
with vegetable and animal. The animals specially mentioned in the
tradition as having been created by Kane were hogs (puaa), dogs (ilio),
lizards or reptiles (moo).
“Another legend of the series, that of
Wela-ahi-lani, states that after Kane had destroyed the world by fire,
on account of the wickedness of the people then living, he organized it
as it now is, and created the first man and the first woman, with the
assistance of Ku and Lono, nearly in the same manner as narrated in the
former legend of Kumuhonua. In this legend the man is called
Wela-ahi-lani, and the woman is called Owe.”
Of the primeval home, the original ancestral
seat of mankind, Hawaiian traditions speak in highest praise. “It had a
number of names of various meanings, though the most generally
occurring, and said to be the oldest, was Kalana-i-hau-ola (Kalana with
the life-giving dew). It was situated in a large country, or continent,
variously called in the legends Kahiki-honua-kele, Kahiki-ku, Kapa-kapa-ua-a-Kane,
Molo-lani. Among other names for the primary homestead, or paradise, are
Pali-uli (the blue mountain), Aina-i-ka-kaupo-o-Kane (the land in the
heart of Kane), Aina-wai-akua-a-Kane (the land of the divine water of
Kane). The tradition says of Pali-uli, that it was a sacred, tabooed
land; that a man must be righteous to attain it; if faulty or sinful he
will not get there; if he looks behind he will not get there; if he
prefers his family he will not enter Pali-uli.” “Among other adornments
of the Polynesian Paradise, the Kalana-i-hau-ola, there grew the Ulu
kapu a Kane, the breadfruit tabooed for Kane, and the ohia hemolele, the
sacred apple-tree. The priests of the olden time are said to have held
that the tabooed fruits of these trees were in some manner connected
with the trouble and death of Kumuhonua and Lalahonua, the first man and
the first woman. Hence in the ancient chants he is called Kane-laa-uli,
Kumu-uli, Kulu-ipo, the fallen chief, he who fell on account of the
tree, or names of similar import.”
According to those legends of Kumuhonua and
Wela-ahi-lani, “at the time when the gods created the stars, they also
created a multitude of angels, or spirits (i kini akua), who were not
created like men, but made from the spittle of the gods (i kuhaia), to
be their servants or messengers. These spirits, or a number of them,
disobeyed and revolted, because they were denied the awa; which means
that they were not permitted to be worshipped, awa being a sacrificial
offering and sign of worship. These evil spirits did not prevail,
however, but were conquered by Kane, and thrust down into uttermost
darkness (ilalo loa i ka po). The chief of these spirits was called by
some Kanaloa, by others Milu, the ruler of Po; Akua ino; Kupu ino, the
evil spirit. Other legends, however, state that the veritable and
primordial lord of the Hawaiian inferno was called Manua. The inferno
itself bore a number of names, such as Po-pau-ole, Po-kua-kini, Po-kini-kini,
Po-papa-ia-owa, Po-ia-milu. Milu, according to those other legends, was
a chief of superior wickedness on earth who was thrust down into Po, but
who was really both inferior and posterior to Manua. This inferno, this
Po, with many names, one of which remarkably enough was Ke-po-lua-ahi,
the pit of fire, was not an entirely dark place. There was light of some
kind and there was fire. The legends further tell us that when Kane, Ku,
and Lono were creating the first man from the earth, Kanaloa was
present, and in imitation of Kane, attempted to make another man out of
the earth. When his clay model was ready, he called to it to become
alive, but no life came to it. Then Kanaloa became very angry, and said
to Kane, ‘I will take your man, and he shall die,’ and so it happened.
Hence the first man got his other name Kumu-uli, which means a fallen
chief, he ’lii kahuli.... With the Hawaiians, Kanaloa is the personified
spirit of evil, the origin of death, the prince of Po, or chaos, and yet
a revolted, disobedient spirit, who was conquered and punished by Kane.
The introduction and worship of Kanaloa, as one of the great gods in the
Hawaiian group, can be traced back only to the time of the immigration
from the southern groups, some eight hundred years ago. In the more
ancient chants he is never mentioned in conjunction with Kane, Ku, and
Lono, and even in later Hawaiian mythology he never took precedence of
Kane. The Hawaiian legend states that the oldest son of Kumuhonua, the
first man, was called Laka, and that the next was called Ahu, and that
Laka was a bad man; he killed his brother Ahu.
“There are these different Hawaiian
genealogies, going back with more or less agreement among themselves to
the first created man. The genealogy of Kumuhonua gives thirteen
generations inclusive to Nuu, or Kahinalii, or the line of Laka, the
oldest son of Kumuhonua. (The line of Seth from Adam to Noah counts ten
generations.) The second genealogy, called that of Kumu-uli, was of
greatest authority among the highest chiefs down to the latest times,
and it was taboo to teach it to the common people. This genealogy counts
fourteen generations from Huli-houna, the first man, to Nuu, or Nana-nuu,
but inclusive, on the line of Laka. The third genealogy, which, properly
speaking, is that of Paao, the high-priest who came with Pili from
Tahiti, about twenty-five generations ago, and was a reformer of the
Hawaiian priesthood, and among whose descendants it has been preserved,
counts only twelve generations from Kumuhonua to Nuu, on the line of
Kapili, youngest son of Kumuhonua.”
“In the Hawaiian group there are several
legends of the Flood. One legend relates that in the time of Nuu, or
Nana-nuu (also pronounced lana, that is, floating), the flood,
Kaiakahinalii, came upon the earth, and destroyed all living beings;
that Nuu, by command of his god, built a large vessel with a house on
top of it, which was called and is referred to in chants as ‘He waa
halau Alii o ka Moku,’ the royal vessel, in which he and his family,
consisting of his wife, Lilinoe, his three sons and their wives, were
saved. When the flood subsided, Kane, Ku, and Lono entered the waa halau
of Nuu, and told him to go out. He did so, and found himself on the top
of Mauna Kea (the highest mountain on the island of Hawaii). He called a
cave there after the name of his wife, and the cave remains there to
this day—as the legend says in testimony of the fact. Other versions of
the legend say that Nuu landed and dwelt in Kahiki-honua-kele, a large
and extensive country.” ... “Nuu left the vessel in the evening of the
day and took with him a pig, cocoanuts, and awa as an offering to the
god Kane. As he looked up he saw the moon in the sky. He thought it was
the god, saying to himself, ‘You are Kane, no doubt, though you have
transformed yourself to my sight.’ So he worshipped the moon, and
offered his offerings. Then Kane descended on the rainbow and spoke
reprovingly to Nuu, but on account of the mistake Nuu escaped
punishment, having asked pardon of Kane.” ... “Nuu’s three sons were
Nalu-akea, Nalu-hoo-hua, and Nalu-mana-mana. In the tenth generation
from Nuu arose Lua-nuu, or the second Nuu, known also in the legend as
Kane-hoa-lani, Kupule, and other names. The legend adds that by command
of his god he was the first to introduce circumcision to be practised
among his descendants. He left his native home and moved a long way off
until he reached a land called Honua-ilalo, ‘the southern country.’
Hence he got the name Lalo-kona, and his wife was called Honua-po-ilalo.
He was the father of Ku-nawao by his slave-woman Ahu (O-ahu) and of
Kalani-menehune by his wife, Mee-hewa. Another says that the god Kane
ordered Lua-nuu to go up on a mountain and perform a sacrifice there.
Lua-nuu looked among the mountains of Kahiki-ku, but none of them
appeared suitable for the purpose. Then Lua-nuu inquired of God where he
might find a proper place. God replied to him: ‘Go travel to the
eastward, and where you find a sharp-peaked hill projecting
precipitously into the ocean, that is the hill for the sacrifice.’ Then
Lua-nuu and his son, Kupulu-pulu-a-Nuu, and his servant, Pili-lua-nuu,
started off in their boat to the eastward. In remembrance of this event
the Hawaiians called the back of Kualoa Koo-lau; Oahu (after one of
Lua-nuu’s names), Kane-hoa-lani; and the smaller hills in front of it
were named Kupu-pulu and Pili-lua-nuu. Lua-nuu is the tenth descendant
from Nuu by both the oldest and the youngest of Nuu’s sons. This oldest
son is represented to have been the progenitor of the Kanaka-maoli, the
people living on the mainland of Kane (Aina kumupuaa a Kane): the
youngest was the progenitor of the white people (ka poe keo keo maoli).
This Lua-nuu (like Abraham, the tenth from Noah, also like Abraham),
through his grandson, Kini-lau-a-mano, became the ancestor of the twelve
children of the latter, and the original founder of the Menehune people,
from whom this legend makes the Polynesian family descend.”
The Rev. Sheldon Dibble, in his history of
the Sandwich Islands, published at Lahainaluna, in 1843, gives a
tradition which very much resembles the history of Joseph.
“Waikelenuiaiku was one of ten brethren who had one sister. They were
all the children of one father, whose name was Waiku. Waikelenuiaiku was
much beloved by his father, but his brethren hated him. On account of
their hatred they carried him and cast him into a pit belonging to
Holonaeole. The oldest brother had pity on him, and gave charge to
Holonaeole to take good care of him. Waikelenuiaiku escaped and fled to
a country over which reigned a king whose name was Kamohoalii. There he
was thrown into a dark place, a pit under ground, in which many persons
were confined for various crimes. Whilst confined in this dark place he
told his companions to dream dreams and tell them to him. The night
following four of the prisoners had dreams. The first dreamed that he
saw a ripe ohia (native apple), and his spirit ate it; the second
dreamed that he saw a ripe banana, and his spirit ate it; the third
dreamed that he saw a hog, and his spirit ate it; and the fourth dreamed
that he saw awa, pressed out the juice, and his spirit drank it. The
first three dreams, pertaining to food, Waikelenuiaiku interpreted
unfavorably, and told the dreamers they must prepare to die. The fourth
dream, pertaining to drink, he interpreted to signify deliverance and
life. The first three dreamers were slain according to the
interpretation, and the fourth was delivered and saved. Afterward this
last dreamer told Kamohoalii, the king of the land, how wonderful was
the skill of Waikelenuiaiku in interpreting dreams, and the king sent
and delivered him from prison and made him a principal chief in his
kingdom.”
Judge Fornander alludes to this legend,
giving the name, however, Aukelenui-a-Iku, and adding to it the account
of the hero’s journey to the place where the water of life was kept (ka-wai-ola-loa-a-Kane),
his obtaining it and therewith resuscitating his brothers, who had been
killed by drowning some years before. Another striking similarity is
that furnished to Judge Fornander in the legend of Ke-alii-waha-nui: “He
was king of the country called Honua-i-lalo. He oppressed the Menehune
people. Their god Kane sent Kane-apua and Kaneloa, his elder brother, to
bring the people away, and take them to the land which Kane had given
them, and which was called Ka aina momona a Kane, or Ka one lauena a
Kane, and also Ka aina i ka haupo a Kane. The people were then told to
observe the four Ku days in the beginning of the month as Kapu-hoano
(sacred or holy days), in remembrance of this event, because they thus
arose (Ku) to depart from that land. Their offerings on the occasion
were swine and goats.” The narrator of the legend explains that formerly
there were goats without horns, called malailua, on the slopes of Mauna
Loa on Hawaii, and that they were found there up to the time of
Kamehameha I. The legend further relates that after leaving the land of
Honualalo, the people came to the Kai-ula-a-Kane (the Red Sea of Kane);
that they were pursued by Ke-alii-waha-nui; that Kane-apua and Kanaloa
prayed to Lono, and finally reached the Aina lauena a Kane.
“In the famous Hawaiian legend of
Hiiaka-i-ka-poli-o-Pele, it is said that when Hiiaka went to the island
of Kauai to recover and restore to life the body of Lohiau, the lover of
her sister, Pele, she arrived at the foot of the Kalalau Mountain
shortly before sunset. Being told by her friends at Haena that there
would not be daylight sufficient to climb the pali (precipice) and get
the body out of the cave in which it was hidden, she prayed to her gods
to keep the sun stationary (i ka muli o Hea) over the brook Hea, until
she had accomplished her object. The prayer was heard, the mountain was
climbed, the guardians of the cave vanquished, and the body recovered.”
A story of retarding the sun and making the
day longer to accomplish his purpose is told of Maui-a-kalana, according
to Dibble’s history.
Judge Fornander alludes to one other legend
with incidents similar to the Old Testament history wherein
“Na-ula-a-Mainea, an Oahu prophet, left Oahu for Kauai, was upset in his
canoe, was swallowed by a whale, and thrown up alive on the beach at
Wailua, Kauai.”
Judge Fornander says that, when he first
heard the legend of the two brother prophets delivering the Menehune
people, “he was inclined to doubt its genuineness and to consider it as
a paraphrase or adaptation of the Biblical account by some
semi-civilized or semi-Christianized Hawaiian, after the discovery of
the group by Captain Cook. But a larger and better acquaintance with
Hawaiian folk-lore has shown that though the details of the legend, as
interpreted by the Christian Hawaiian from whom it was received, may
possibly in some degree, and unconsciously to him, perhaps, have
received a Biblical coloring, yet the main facts of the legend, with the
identical names of persons and places, are referred to more or less
distinctly in other legends of undoubted antiquity.” And the Rev. Mr.
Dibble, in his history, says of these Hawaiian legends, that “they were
told to the missionaries before the Bible was translated into the
Hawaiian tongue, and before the people knew much of sacred history. The
native who acted as assistant in translating the history of Joseph was
forcibly struck with its similarity to their ancient tradition. Neither
is there the least room for supposing that the songs referred to are
recent inventions. They can all be traced back for generations, and are
known by various persons residing on different islands who have had no
communication with each other. Some of them have their date in the reign
of some ancient king, and others have existed time out of mind. It may
also be added, that both their narrations and songs are known the best
by the very oldest of the people, and those who never learned to read;
whose education and training were under the ancient system of
heathenism.”
“Two hypotheses,” says Judge Fornander, “may
with some plausibility be suggested to account for this remarkable
resemblance of folk-lore. One is, that during the time of the Spanish
galleon trade, in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, between the
Spanish Main and Manila, some shipwrecked people, Spaniards and
Portuguese, had obtained sufficient influence to introduce these scraps
of Bible history into the legendary lore of this people.... On this fact
hypothesis I remark that, if the shipwrecked foreigners were educated
men, or only possessed of such Scriptural knowledge as was then imparted
to the commonality of laymen, it is morally impossible to conceive that
a Spaniard of the sixteenth century should confine his instruction to
some of the leading events of the Old Testament, and be totally silent
upon the Christian dispensation, and the cruciolatry, mariolatry, and
hagiolatry of that day. And it is equally impossible to conceive that
the Hawaiian listeners, chiefs, priests, or commoners, should have
retained and incorporated so much of the former in their own folk-lore,
and yet have utterly forgotten every item bearing upon the latter.
“The other hypothesis is, that at some
remote period either a body of the scattered Israelites had arrived at
these islands direct, or in Malaysia, before the exodus of ‘the
Polynesian family,’ and thus imparted a knowledge of their doctrines, of
the early life of their ancestors, and of some of their peculiar
customs, and that having been absorbed by the people among whom they
found a refuge, this is all that remains to attest their
presence—intellectual tombstones over a lost and forgotten race, yet
sufficient after twenty-six centuries of silence to solve in some
measure the ethnic puzzle of the lost tribes of Israel. In regard to
this second hypothesis, it is certainly more plausible and cannot be so
curtly disposed of as the Spanish theory.... So far from being copied
one from the other, they are in fact independent and original versions
of a once common legend, or series of legends, held alike by Cushite,
Semite, Turanian, and Aryan, up to a certain time, when the divergencies
of national life and other causes brought other subjects peculiar to
each other prominently in the foreground; and that as these divergencies
hardened into system and creed, that grand old heirloom of a common past
became overlaid and colored by the peculiar social and religious
atmosphere through which it has passed up to the surface of the present
time. But besides this general reason for refusing to adopt the
Israelitish theory, that the Polynesian legends were introduced by
fugitive or emigrant Hebrews from the subverted kingdoms of Israel or
Judah, there is the more special reason to be added that the
organization and splendor of Solomon’s empire, his temple, and his
wisdom became proverbial among the nations of the East subsequent to his
time; on all these, the Polynesian legends are absolutely silent.”
In commenting on the legend of
Hiiaka-i-ka-poli-o-Pele, Judge Fornander says: “If the Hebrew legend of
Joshua or a Cushite version give rise to it, it only brings down the
community of legends a little later in time. And so would the legend of
Naulu-a-Mahea,... unless the legend of Jonah, with which it corresponds
in a measure, as well as the previous legend of Joshua and the sun, were
Hebrew anachronisms compiled and adapted in later times from long
antecedent materials, of which the Polynesian references are but broken
and distorted echoes, bits of legendary mosaics, displaced from their
original surroundings and made to fit with later associations.”
In regard to the account of the Creation, he
remarks that “the Hebrew legend infers that the god Elohim existed
contemporaneously with and apart from the chaos. The Hawaiian legend
makes the three great gods, Kane, Ku, and Lono, evolve themselves out of
chaos.... The order of creation, according to Hawaiian folk-lore, was
that after Heaven and earth had been separated, and the ocean had been
stocked with its animals, the stars were created, then the moon, then
the sun.” Alluding to the fact that the account in Genesis is truer to
nature, Judge Fornander nevertheless propounds the inquiry whether this
fact may not “indicate that the Hebrew text is a later emendation of an
older but once common tradition”?
Highest antiquity is claimed for Hawaiian
traditions in regard to events subsequent to the creation of man. “In
one of the sacrificial hymns of the Marquesans, when human victims were
offered, frequent allusions were made to ‘the red apples eaten in Naoau,’
... and to the ‘tabooed apples of Atea,’ as the cause of death, wars,
pestilence, famine, and other calamities, only to be averted or atoned
for by the sacrifice of human victims. The close connection between the
Hawaiian and the Marquesan legends indicates a common origin, and that
origin can be no other than that from which the Chaldean and Hebrew
legends of sacred trees, disobedience, and fall also sprang.” In
comparison of “the Hawaiian myth of Kanaloa as a fallen angel
antagonistic to the great gods, as the spirit of evil and death in the
world, the Hebrew legends are more vague and indefinite as to the
existence of an evil principle. The serpent of Genesis, the Satan of
Job, the Hillel of Isaiah, the dragon of the Apocalypse—all point,
however, to the same underlying idea that the first cause of sin, death,
evil, and calamities, was to be found in disobedience and revolt from
God. They appear as disconnected scenes of a once grand drama that in
olden times riveted the attention of mankind, and of which, strange to
say, the clearest synopsis and the most coherent recollection are, so
far, to be found in Polynesian traditions. It is probably in vain to
inquire with whom the legend of an evil spirit and his operations in
Heaven and on earth had its origin. Notwithstanding the apparent unity
of design and remarkable coincidence in many points, yet the differences
in coloring, detail, and presentation are too great to suppose the
legend borrowed by one from either of the others. It probably descended
to the Chaldeans, Polynesians, and Hebrews alike, from a source or
people anterior to themselves, of whom history now is silent.”
Back to Contents
Exploits of Maui,
Rev. A. O. Forbes
Snaring the Sun
Maui was the son of Hina-lau-ae
and Hina, and they dwelt at a place called Makalia, above Kahakuloa, on
West Maui. Now, his mother Hina made kapas. And as she spread them out
to dry, the days were so short that she was put to great trouble and
labor in hanging them out and taking them in day after day until they
were dry. Maui, seeing this, was filled with pity for her, for the days
were so short that, no sooner had she got her kapas all spread out to
dry, than the Sun went down, and she had to take them in again. So he
determined to make the Sun go slower. He first went to Wailohi, in
Hamakua, on East Maui, to observe the motions of the Sun. There he saw
that it rose toward Hana. He then went up on Haleakala, and saw that the
Sun in its course came directly over that mountain. He then went home
again, and after a few days went to a place called Paeloko, at Waihee.
There he cut down all the cocoanut-trees, and gathered the fibre of the
cocoanut husks in great quantity. This he manufactured into strong cord.
One Moemoe, seeing this, said tauntingly to him: “Thou wilt never catch
the Sun. Thou art an idle nobody.”
Maui answered: “When I conquer my enemy, and
my desire is attained, I will be your death.” So he went up Haleakala
again, taking his cord with him. And when the Sun arose above where he
was stationed, he prepared a noose of the cord and, casting it, snared
one of the Sun’s larger beams and broke it off. And thus he snared and
broke off, one after another, all the strong rays of the Sun.
Then shouted he exultingly: “Thou art my
captive, and now I will kill thee for thy going so swiftly.”
And the Sun said: “Let me live, and thou
shalt see me go more slowly hereafter. Behold, hast thou not broken off
all my strong legs, and left me only the weak ones?”
So the agreement was made, and Maui
permitted the Sun to pursue its course, and from that time on it went
more slowly; and that is the reason why the days are longer at one
season of the year than at another. It was this that gave the name to
that mountain, which should properly be called Alehe-ka-la (sun snarer),
and not Haleakala.
When Maui returned from this exploit, he
went to find Moemoe, who had reviled him. But that individual was not at
home. He went on in his pursuit till he came upon him at a place called
Kawaiopilopilo, on the shore to the eastward of the black rock called
Kekaa, north of Lahaina. Moemoe dodged him up hill and down, until at
last Maui, growing wroth, leaped upon and slew the fugitive. And the
dead body was transformed into a long rock, which is there to this day,
by the side of the road.
The Origin of Fire
Maui and Hina dwelt together, and to them
were born four sons, whose names were Maui-mua, Maui-hope, Maui-kiikii,
and Maui-o-ka-lana. These four were fishermen. One morning, just as the
edge of the Sun lifted itself up, Maui-mua roused his brethren to go
fishing. So they launched their canoe from the beach at Kaupo, on the
island of Maui, where they were dwelling, and proceeded to the fishing
ground. Having arrived there, they were beginning to fish, when
Maui-o-ka-lana saw the light of a fire on the shore they had left, and
said to his brethren: “Behold, there is a fire burning. Whose can this
fire be?”
And they answered: “Whose, indeed? Let us
return to the shore, that we may get our food cooked; but first let us
get some fish.”
So, after they had obtained some fish, they
turned toward the shore; and when the canoe touched the beach Maui-mua
leaped ashore and ran toward the spot where the fire had been burning.
Now, the curly-tailed alae (mud-hens) were the keepers of the fire; and
when they saw him coming they scratched the fire out and flew away.
Maui-mua was defeated, and returned to the house to his brethren.
Then said they to him: “How about the fire?”
“How, indeed?” he answered. “When I got
there, behold, there was no fire; it was out. I supposed some man had
the fire, and behold, it was not so; the alae are the proprietors of the
fire, and our bananas are all stolen.”
When they heard that, they were filled with
anger, and decided not to go fishing again, but to wait for the next
appearance of the fire. But after many days had passed without their
seeing the fire, they went fishing again, and behold, there was the
fire! And so they were continually tantalized. Only when they were out
fishing would the fire appear, and when they returned they could not
find it.
This was the way of it. The curly-tailed
alae knew that Maui and Hina had only these four sons, and if any of
them stayed on shore to watch the fire while the others were out in the
canoe the alae knew it by counting those in the canoe, and would not
light the fire. Only when they could count four men in the canoe would
they light the fire. So Maui-mua thought it over, and said to his
brethren: “To-morrow morning do you go fishing, and I will stay ashore.
But do you take the calabash and dress it in kapa, and put it in my
place in the canoe, and then go out to fish.”
They did so, and when they went out to fish
the next morning, the alae counted and saw four figures in the canoe,
and then they lit the fire and put the bananas on to roast. Before they
were fully baked one of the alae cried out: “Our dish is cooked! Behold,
Hina has a smart son.”
And with that, Maui-mua, who had stolen
close to them unperceived, leaped forward, seized the curly-tailed alae
and exclaimed: “Now I will kill you, you scamp of an alae! Behold, it is
you who are keeping the fire from us. I will be the death of you for
this.”
Then answered the alae: “If you kill me the
secret dies with me, and you won’t get the fire.” As Maui-mua began to
wring its neck, the alae again spoke, and said: “Let me live, and you
shall have the fire.”
So Maui-mua said: “Tell me, where is the
fire?”
The alae replied: “It is in the leaf of the
a-pe plant” (Alocasia macrorrhiza).
So, by the direction of the alae, Maui-mua
began to rub the leaf-stalk of the a-pe plant with a piece of stick, but
the fire would not come. Again he asked: “Where is this fire that you
are hiding from me?”
The alae answered: “In a green stick.”
And he rubbed a green stick, but got no
fire. So it went on, until finally the alae told him he would find it in
a dry stick; and so, indeed, he did. But Maui-mua, in revenge for the
conduct of the alae, after he had got the fire from the dry stick, said:
“Now, there is one thing more to try.” And he rubbed the top of the
alae’s head till it was red with blood, and the red spot remains there
to this day. Back to Contents
Pele and the Deluge,
Rev. A. O. Forbes
All volcanic phenomena are associated in
Hawaiian legendary lore with the goddess Pele; and it is a somewhat
curious fact that to the same celebrated personage is also attributed a
great flood that occurred in ancient times. The legends of this flood
are various, but mainly connected with the doings of Pele in this part
of the Pacific Ocean. The story runs thus:
Kahinalii was the mother of Pele;
Kanehoalani was her father; and her two brothers were Kamohoalii and
Kahuilaokalani. Pele was born in the land of Hapakuela, a far-distant
land at the edge of the sky, toward the southwest. There she lived with
her parents until she was grown up, when she married Wahialoa; and to
these were born a daughter named Laka, and a son named Menehune. But
after a time Pele’s husband, Wahialoa, was enticed away from her by
Pele-kumulani. The deserted Pele, being much displeased and troubled in
mind on account of her husband, started on her travels in search of him,
and came in the direction of the Hawaiian Islands. Now, at that time
these islands were a vast waste. There was no sea, nor was there any
fresh water. When Pele set out on her journey, her parents gave her the
sea to go with her and bear her canoes onward. So she sailed forward,
flood-borne by the sea, until she reached the land of Pakuela, and
thence onward to the land of Kanaloa. From her head she poured forth the
sea as she went, and her brothers composed the celebrated ancient mele:
O the sea, the great sea!
Forth bursts the sea:
Behold, it bursts on Kanaloa!
But the waters of the sea continued to rise
until only the highest points of the great mountains, Haleakala,
Maunakea, and Maunaloa, were visible; all else was covered. Afterward
the sea receded until it reached its present level. This event is called
the Kai a Kahinalii (Sea of Kahinalii), because it was from Kahinalii,
her mother, that Pele received the gift of the sea, and she herself only
brought it to Hawaii.
And from that time to this, Pele and all her
family forsook their former land of Hapakuela and have dwelt in Hawaii-nei,
Pele coming first and the rest following at a later time.
On her first arrival at Hawaii-nei, Pele
dwelt on the island of Kauai. From there she went to Kalaupapa, on the
island of Molokai, and dwelt in the crater of Kauhako at that place;
thence she departed to Puulaina, near Lahainaluna, where she dug out
that crater. Afterward she moved still further to Haleakala, where she
stayed until she hollowed out that great crater; and finally she settled
at Kilauea, on the island of Hawaii, where she has remained ever since.
Back to Contents
In the reign of Kealiikukii, an ancient king
of Hawaii, Kahawali, chief of Puna, and one of his favorite companions
went one day to amuse themselves with the holua (sled), on the sloping
side of a hill, which is still called ka holua ana o Kahawali (Kahawali’s
sliding-place). Vast numbers of the people gathered at the bottom of the
hill to witness the game, and a company of musicians and dancers
repaired thither to add to the amusement of the spectators. The
performers began their dance, and amidst the sound of drums and the
songs of the musicians the sledding of Kahawali and his companion
commenced. The hilarity of the occasion attracted the attention of Pele,
the goddess of the volcano, who came down from Kilauea to witness the
sport. Standing on the summit of the hill in the form of a woman, she
challenged Kahawali to slide with her. He accepted the offer, and they
set off together down the hill. Pele, less acquainted with the art of
balancing herself on the narrow sled than her rival, was beaten, and
Kahawali was applauded by the spectators as he returned up the side of
the hill.
Before starting again, Pele asked him to
give her his papa holua, but he, supposing from her appearance that she
was no more than a native woman, said: “Aole! (no!) Are you my wife,
that you should obtain my sled?” And, as if impatient at being delayed,
he adjusted his papa, ran a few yards to take a spring, and then, with
this momentum and all his strength he threw himself upon it and shot
down the hill.
A Lava
Cascade.
Pele, incensed at his answer, stamped her
foot on the ground and an earthquake followed, which rent the hill in
sunder. She called, and fire and liquid lava arose, and, assuming her
supernatural form, with these irresistible ministers of vengeance, she
followed down the hill. When Kahawali reached the bottom, he arose, and
on looking behind saw Pele, accompanied by thunder and lightning,
earthquake, and streams of burning lava, closely pursuing him. He took
up his broad spear which he had stuck in the ground at the beginning of
the game, and, accompanied by his friend, fled for his life. The
musicians, dancers, and crowds of spectators were instantly overwhelmed
by the fiery torrent, which, bearing on its foremost wave the enraged
goddess, continued to pursue Kahawali and his companion. They ran till
they came to an eminence called Puukea. Here Kahawali threw off his
cloak of netted ki leaves and proceeded toward his house, which stood
near the shore. He met his favorite pig and saluted it by touching
noses, then ran to the house of his mother, who lived at Kukii, saluted
her by touching noses, and said: “Aloha ino oe, eia ihonei paha oe e
make ai, ke ai mainei Pele.” (Compassion great to you! Close here,
perhaps, is your death; Pele comes devouring.) Leaving her, he met his
wife, Kanakawahine, and saluted her. The burning torrent approached, and
she said: “Stay with me here, and let us die together.” He said: “No; I
go, I go.” He then saluted his two children, Poupoulu and Kaohe, and
said, “Ke ue nei au ia olua.” (I grieve for you two.) The lava rolled
near, and he ran till a deep chasm arrested his progress. He laid down
his spear and walked over on it in safety. His friend called out for his
help; he held out his spear over the chasm; his companion took hold of
it and he drew him securely over. By this time Pele was coming down the
chasm with accelerated motion. He ran till he reached Kula. Here he met
his sister, Koai, but had only time to say, “Aloha oe!” (Alas for you!)
and then ran on to the shore. His younger brother had just landed from
his fishing-canoe, and had hastened to his house to provide for the
safety of his family, when Kahawali arrived. He and his friend leaped
into the canoe, and with his broad spear paddled out to sea. Pele,
perceiving his escape, ran to the shore and hurled after him, with
prodigious force, great stones and fragments of rock, which fell thickly
around but did not strike his canoe. When he had paddled a short
distance from the shore the kumukahi (east wind) sprung up. He fixed his
broad spear upright in the canoe, that it might answer the double
purpose of mast and sail, and by its aid he soon reached the island of
Maui, where they rested one night and then proceeded to Lanai. The day
following they moved on to Molokai, thence to Oahu, the abode of
Kolonohailaau, his father, and Kanewahinekeaho, his sister, to whom he
related his disastrous perils, and with whom he took up his permanent
abode. Back to Contents
Hiku and Kawelu,
J. S. Emerson
Not far from
the summit of Hualalai, on the island of Hawaii, in the cave on the
southern side of the ridge, lived Hina and her son, the kupua, or
demigod, Hiku. All his life long as a child and a youth, Hiku had lived
alone with his mother on this mountain summit, and had never once been
permitted to descend to the plains below to see the abodes of men and to
learn of their ways. From time to time, his quick ear had caught the
sound of the distant hula (drum) and the voices of the gay merrymakers.
Often had he wished to see the fair forms of those who danced and sang
in those far-off cocoanut groves. But his mother, more experienced in
the ways of the world, had never given her consent. Now, at length, he
felt that he was a man, and as the sounds of mirth arose on his ears,
again he asked his mother to let him go for himself and mingle with the
people on the shore. His mother, seeing that his mind was made up to go,
reluctantly gave her consent and warned him not to stay too long, but to
return in good time. So, taking in his hand his faithful arrow, Pua Ne,
which he always carried, he started off.
This arrow was a sort of talisman, possessed
of marvellous powers, among which were the ability to answer his call
and by its flight to direct his journey.
Thus he descended over the rough clinker
lava and through the groves of koa that cover the southwestern flank of
the mountain, until, nearing its base, he stood on a distant hill; and
consulting his arrow, he shot it far into the air, watching its
bird-like flight until it struck on a distant hill above Kailua. To this
hill he rapidly directed his steps, and, picking up his arrow in due
time, he again shot it into the air. The second flight landed the arrow
near the coast of Holualoa, some six or eight miles south of Kailua. It
struck on a barren waste of pahoehoe, or lava rock, beside the waterhole
of Waikalai, known also as the Wai a Hiku (Water of Hiku), where to this
day all the people of that vicinity go to get their water for man and
beast.
Here he quenched his thirst, and nearing the
village of Holualoa, again shot the arrow, which, instinct with life,
entered the courtyard of the alii or chief, of Kona, and from among the
women who were there singled out the fair princess Kawelu, and landed at
her feet. Seeing the noble bearing of Hiku as he approached to claim his
arrow, she stealthily hid it and challenged him to find it. Then Hiku
called to the arrow, “Pua ne! Pua ne!” and the arrow replied, “Ne!” thus
revealing its hiding-place.
This exploit with the arrow and the
remarkable grace and personal beauty of the young man quite won the
heart of the princess, and she was soon possessed by a strong passion
for him, and determined to make him her husband.
With her wily arts she detained him for
several days at her home, and when at last he was about to start for the
mountain, she shut him up in the house and thus detained him by force.
But the words of his mother, warning him not to remain too long, came to
his mind, and he determined to break away from his prison. So he climbed
up to the roof, and removing a portion of the thatch, made his escape.
When his flight was discovered by Kawelu,
the infatuated girl was distracted with grief. Refusing to be comforted,
she tasted no food, and ere many days had passed was quite dead.
Messengers were despatched who brought back the unhappy Hiku, author of
all this sorrow. Bitterly he wept over the corpse of his beloved, but it
was now too late; the spirit had departed to the nether world, ruled
over by Milu. And now, stung by the reproaches of her kindred and
friends for his desertion, and urged on by his real love for the fair
one, he resolved to attempt the perilous descent into the nether world
and, if possible, to bring her spirit back.
With the assistance of her friends, he
collected from the mountain slope a great quantity of the kowali, or
convolvulus vine. He also prepared a hollow cocoanut shell, splitting it
into two closely fitting parts. Then anointing himself with a mixture of
rancid cocoanut and kukui oil, which gave him a very strong corpse-like
odor, he started with his companions in the well-loaded canoes for a
point in the sea where the sky comes down to meet the water.
Arrived at the spot, he directed his
comrades to lower him into the abyss called by the Hawaiians the Lua o
Milu. Taking with him his cocoanut-shell and seating himself astride of
the cross-stick of the swing, or kowali, he was quickly lowered down by
the long rope of kowali vines held by his friends in the canoe above.
Soon he entered the great cavern where the
shades of the departed were gathered together. As he came among them,
their curiosity was aroused to learn who he was. And he heard many
remarks, such as “Whew! what an odor this corpse emits!” “He must have
been long dead.” He had rather overdone the matter of the rancid oil.
Even Milu himself, as he sat on the bank watching the crowd, was
completely deceived by the stratagem, for otherwise he never would have
permitted this bold descent of a living man into his gloomy abode.
The Hawaiian swing, it should be remarked,
unlike ours, has but one rope supporting the cross-stick on which the
person is seated. Hiku and his swing attracted considerable attention
from the lookers-on. One shade in particular watched him most intently;
it was his sweetheart, Kawelu. A mutual recognition took place, and with
the permission of Milu she darted up to him and swung with him on the
kowali. But even she had to avert her face on account of his corpse-like
odor. As they were enjoying together this favorite Hawaiian pastime of
lele kowali, by a preconcerted signal the friends above were informed of
the success of his ruse and were now rapidly drawing them up. At first
she was too much absorbed in the sport to notice this. When at length
her attention was aroused by seeing the great distance of those beneath
her, like a butterfly she was about to flit away, when the crafty Hiku,
who was ever on the alert, clapped the cocoanut-shells together,
imprisoning her within them, and was then quickly drawn up to the canoes
above.
With their precious burden, they returned to
the shores of Holualoa, where Hiku landed and at once repaired to the
house where still lay the body of his beloved. Kneeling by its side, he
made a hole in the great toe of the left foot, into which with great
difficulty he forced the reluctant spirit, and in spite of its desperate
struggles he tied up the wound so that it could not escape from the
cold, clammy flesh in which it was now imprisoned. Then he began to
lomilomi, or rub and chafe the foot, working the spirit further and
further up the limb.
Gradually, as the heart was reached, the
blood began once more to flow through the body, the chest began gently
to heave with the breath of life, and soon the spirit gazed out through
the eyes. Kawelu was now restored to consciousness, and seeing her
beloved Hiku bending tenderly over her, she opened her lips and said:
“How could you be so cruel as to leave me?”
All remembrance of the Lua o Milu and of her
meeting him there had disappeared, and she took up the thread of
consciousness just where she had left it a few days before at death.
Great joy filled the hearts of the people of Holualoa as they welcomed
back to their midst the fair Kawelu and the hero, Hiku, from whom she
was no more to be separated.
Location of the Lua o Milu
In the myth of Hiku and Kawelu, the
entrance to the Lua o Milu is placed out to sea opposite Holualoa
and a few miles south of Kailua. But the more usual account of the
natives is, that it was situated at the mouth of the great valley of
Waipio, in a place called Keoni, where the sands have long since
covered up and concealed from view this passage from the upper to
the nether world.
Every year, so it is told, the
procession of ghosts called by the natives Oio, marches in solemn
state down the Mahiki road, and at this point enters the Lua o Milu.
A man, recently living in Waimea, of the best reputation for
veracity, stated that about thirty or more years ago, he actually
saw this ghostly company. He was walking up this road in the
evening, when he saw at a distance the Oio appear, and knowing that
should they encounter him his death would be inevitable, he
discreetly hid himself behind a tree and, trembling with fear, gazed
in silence at the dread spectacle. There was Kamehameha, the
conqueror, with all his chiefs and warriors in military array,
thousands of heroes who had won renown in the olden time. Though all
were silent as the grave, they kept perfect step as they marched
along, and passing through the woods down to Waipio, disappeared
from his view.
In connection with the foregoing,
Professor W. D. Alexander kindly contributes the following:
“The valley of Waipio is a place
frequently celebrated in the songs and traditions of Hawaii, as
having been the abode of Akea and Milu, the first kings of the
island....
“Some said that the souls of the
departed went to the Po (place of night), and were annihilated or
eaten by the gods there. Others said that some went to the regions
of Akea and Milu. Akea (Wakea), they said, was the first king of
Hawaii. At the expiration of his reign, which terminated with his
life at Waipio, where we then were, he descended to a region far
below, called Kapapahanaumoku (the island bearing rock or stratum),
and founded a kingdom there. Milu, who was his successor, and
reigned in Hamakua, descended, when he died, to Akea and shared the
government of the place with him. Their land is a place of darkness;
their food lizards and butterflies. There are several streams of
water, of which they drink, and some said that there were large
kahilis and wide-spreading kou trees, beneath which they reclined.”1
“They had some very indistinct notion of
a future state of happiness and of misery. They said that, after
death, the ghost went first to the region of Wakea, the name of
their first reputed progenitor, and if it had observed the religious
rites and ceremonies, was entertained and allowed to remain there.
That was a place of houses, comforts, and pleasures. If the soul had
failed to be religious, it found no one there to entertain it, and
was forced to take a desperate leap into a place of misery below,
called Milu.
“There were several precipices, from the
verge of which the unhappy ghosts were supposed to take the leap
into the region of woe; three in particular, one at the northern
extremity of Hawaii, one at the western termination of Maui, and the
third at the northern point of Oahu.”
Near the northwest point of Oahu is a
rock called Leina Kauhane, where the souls of the dead descended
into Hades. In New Zealand the same term, “Reinga” (the leaping
place), is applied to the North Cape. The Marquesans have a similar
belief in regard to the northermost island of their group, and apply
the same term, “Reinga,” to their Avernus.
Back to Contents
Lonopuha; Or, Origin
of the Art of Healing in Hawaii,
Translated by Thos. G. Thrum
During the time that Milu was residing at
Waipio, Hawaii, the year of which is unknown, there came to these shores
a number of people, with their wives, from that vague foreign land,
Kahiki. But they were all of godly kind (ano akua nae), it is said, and
drew attention as they journeyed from place to place. They arrived first
at Niihau, and from there they travelled through all the islands. At
Hawaii they landed at the south side, thence to Puna, Hilo, and settled
at Kukuihaele, Hamakua, just above Waipio.
On every island they visited there appeared
various diseases, and many deaths resulted, so that it was said this was
their doings, among the chiefs and people. The diseases that followed in
their train were chills, fevers, headache, pani, and so on.
These are the names of some of these people:
Kaalaenuiahina, Kahuilaokalani, Kaneikaulanaula, besides others. They
brought death, but one Kamakanuiahailono followed after them with
healing powers. This was perhaps the origin of sickness and the art of
healing with medicines in Hawaii.
As has been said, diseases settled on the
different islands like an epidemic, and the practice of medicine ensued,
for Kamakanuiahailono followed them in their journeyings. He arrived at
Kau, stopping at Kiolakaa, on the west side of Waiohinu, where a great
multitude of people were residing, and Lono was their chief. The
stranger sat on a certain hill, where many of the people visited him,
for the reason that he was a newcomer, a custom that is continued to
this day. While there he noticed the redness of skin of a certain one of
them, and remarked, “Oh, the redness of skin of that man!”
The people replied, “Oh, that is Lono, the
chief of this land, and he is a farmer.”
He again spoke, asserting that his sickness
was very great; for through the redness of the skin he knew him to be a
sick man.
They again replied that he was a healthy
man, “but you consider him very sick.” He then left the residents and
set out on his journey.
Some of those who heard his remarks ran and
told the chief the strange words, “that he was a very sick man.” On
hearing this, Lono raised up his oo (digger) and said, “Here I am,
without any sign of disease, and yet I am sick.” And as he brought down
his oo with considerable force, it struck his foot and pierced it
through, causing the blood to flow freely, so that he fell and fainted
away. At this, one of the men seized a pig and ran after the stranger,
who, hearing the pig squealing, looked behind him and saw the man
running with it; and as he neared him he dropped it before him, and told
him of Lono’s misfortune, Kamakanuiahailono then returned, gathering on
the way the young popolo seeds and its tender leaves in his garment (kihei).
When he arrived at the place where the wounded man was lying he asked
for some salt, which he took and pounded together with the popolo and
placed it with a cocoanut covering on the wound. From then till night
the flowing of the blood ceased. After two or three weeks had elapsed he
again took his departure.
While he was leisurely journeying, some one
breathing heavily approached him in the rear, and, turning around, there
was the chief, and he asked him: “What is it, Lono, and where are you
going?”
Lono replied, “You healed me; therefore, as
soon as you had departed I immediately consulted with my successors, and
have resigned my offices to them, so that they will have control over
all. As for myself, I followed after you, that you might teach me the
art of healing.”
The kahuna lapaau (medical priest) then
said, “Open your mouth.” When Lono opened his mouth, the kahuna spat
into it,1 by which he would become proficient in the calling he had
chosen, and in which he eventually became, in fact, very skilful.
As they travelled, he instructed Lono (on
account of the accident to his foot he was called Lonopuha) in the
various diseases, and the different medicines for the proper treatment
of each. They journeyed through Kau, Puna, and Hilo, thence onward to
Hamakua as far as Kukuihaele. Prior to their arrival there,
Kamakanuiahailono said to Lonopuha, “It is better that we reside apart,
lest your healing practice do not succeed; but you settle elsewhere, so
as to gain recognition from your own skill.”
For this reason, Lonopuha went on farther
and located in Waimanu, and there practised the art of healing. On
account of his labors here, he became famous as a skilful healer, which
fame Kamakanuiahailono and others heard of at Kukuihaele; but he never
revealed to Kaalaenuiahina ma (company) of his teaching of Lonopuha,
through which he became celebrated. It so happened that Kaalaenuiahina
ma were seeking an occasion to cause Milu’s death, and he was becoming
sickly through their evil efforts.
When Milu heard of the fame of Lonopuha as a
skilful healer, because of those who were afflicted with disease and
would have died but for his treatment, he sent his messenger after him.
On arriving at Milu’s house, Lonopuha examined and felt of him, and then
said, “You will have no sickness, provided you be obedient to my
teachings.” He then exercised his art, and under his medical treatment
Milu recovered.
Lonopuha then said to him: “I have treated
you, and you are well of the internal ailments you suffered under, and
only that from without remains. Now, you must build a house of leaves
and dwell therein in quietness for a few weeks, to recuperate.” These
houses are called pipipi, such being the place to which invalids are
moved for convalescent treatment unless something unforeseen should
occur.
Upon Milu’s removal thereto, Lonopuha
advised him as follows: “O King! you are to dwell in this house
according to the length of time directed, in perfect quietness; and
should the excitement of sports with attendant loud cheering prevail
here, I warn you against these as omens of evil for your death; and I
advise you not to loosen the ti leaves of your house to peep out to see
the cause, for on the very day you do so, that day you will perish.”
Some two weeks had scarcely passed since the
King had been confined in accordance with the kahuna’s instructions,
when noises from various directions in proximity to the King’s dwelling
were heard, but he regarded the advice of the priest all that day. The
cause of the commotion was the appearance of two birds playing in the
air, which so excited the people that they kept cheering them all that
day.
Three weeks had almost passed when loud
cheering was again heard in Waipio, caused by a large bird decorated
with very beautiful feathers, which flew out from the clouds and soared
proudly over the palis (precipices) of Koaekea and Kaholokuaiwa, and
poised gracefully over the people; therefore, they cheered as they
pursued it here and there. Milu was much worried thereby, and became so
impatient that he could no longer regard the priest’s caution; so he
lifted some of the ti leaves of his house to look out at the bird, when
instantly it made a thrust at him, striking him under the armpit,
whereby his life was taken and he was dead (lilo ai kona ola a make iho
la).
The priest saw the bird flying with the
liver of Milu; therefore, he followed after it. When it saw that it was
pursued, it immediately entered into a sunken rock just above the base
of the precipice of Koaekea. As he reached the place, the blood was
spattered around where the bird had entered. Taking a piece of garment (pahoola),
he soaked it with the blood and returned and placed it in the opening in
the body of the dead King and poured healing medicine on the wound,
whereby Milu recovered. And the place where the bird entered with Milu’s
liver has ever since been called Keakeomilu (the liver of Milu).
A long while afterward, when this death of
the King was as nothing (i mea ole), and he recovered as formerly, the
priest refrained not from warning him, saying: “You have escaped from
this death; there remains for you one other.”
After Milu became convalescent from his
recent serious experience, a few months perhaps had elapsed, when the
surf at Waipio became very high and was breaking heavily on the beach.
This naturally caused much commotion and excitement among the people, as
the numerous surf-riders, participating in the sport, would land upon
the beach on their surf-boards. Continuous cheering prevailed, and the
hilarity rendered Milu so impatient at the restraint put upon him by the
priest that he forsook his wise counsel and joined in the exhilarating
sport.
Seizing a surf-board he swam out some
distance to the selected spot for suitable surfs. Here he let the first
and second combers pass him; but watching his opportunity he started
with the momentum of the heavier third comber, catching the crest just
right. Quartering on the rear of his board, he rode in with majestic
swiftness, and landed nicely on the beach amid the cheers and shouts of
the people. He then repeated the venture and was riding in as
successfully, when, in a moment of careless abandon, at the place where
the surfs finish as they break on the beach, he was thrust under and
suddenly disappeared, while the surf-board flew from under and was
thrown violently upon the shore. The people in amazement beheld the
event, and wildly exclaimed: “Alas! Milu is dead! Milu is dead!” With
sad wonderment they searched and watched in vain for his body. Thus was
seen the result of repeated disobedience. Back
to Contents
A Visit to the
Spirit
Land; Or, The Strange Experience of a
Woman in Kona, Hawaii,
Mrs. E. N. Haley
Kalima had been sick for many weeks, and at
last died. Her friends gathered around her with loud cries of grief, and
with many expressions of affection and sorrow at their loss they
prepared her body for its burial.
The grave was dug, and when everything was
ready for the last rites and sad act, husband and friends came to take a
final look at the rigid form and ashen face before it was laid away
forever in the ground. The old mother sat on the mat-covered ground
beside her child, brushing away the intrusive flies with a piece of
cocoanut-leaf, and wiping away the tears that slowly rolled down her
cheeks. Now and then she would break into a low, heart-rending wail, and
tell in a sob-choked, broken voice, how good this her child had always
been to her, how her husband loved her, and how her children would never
have any one to take her place. “Oh, why,” she cried, “did the gods
leave me? I am old and heavy with years; my back is bent and my eyes are
getting dark. I cannot work, and am too old and weak to enjoy fishing in
the sea, or dancing and feasting under the trees. But this my child
loved all these things, and was so happy. Why is she taken and I, so
useless, left?” And again that mournful, sob-choked wail broke on the
still air, and was borne out to the friends gathered under the trees
before the door, and was taken up and repeated until the hardest heart
would have softened and melted at the sound. As they sat around on the
mats looking at their dead and listening to the old mother, suddenly
Kalima moved, took a long breath, and opened her eyes. They were
frightened at the miracle, but so happy to have her back again among
them.
The old mother raised her hands and eyes to
heaven and, with rapt faith on her brown, wrinkled face, exclaimed: “The
gods have let her come back! How they must love her!”
Mother, husband, and friends gathered around
and rubbed her hands and feet, and did what they could for her comfort.
In a few minutes she revived enough to say, “I have something strange to
tell you.”
Several days passed before she was strong
enough to say more; then calling her relatives and friends about her,
she told them the following weird and strange story:
“I died, as you know. I seemed to leave my
body and stand beside it, looking down on what was me. The me that was
standing there looked like the form I was looking at, only, I was alive
and the other was dead. I gazed at my body for a few minutes, then
turned and walked away. I left the house and village, and walked on and
on to the next village, and there I found crowds of people,—Oh, so many
people! The place which I knew as a small village of a few houses was a
very large place, with hundreds of houses and thousands of men, women,
and children. Some of them I knew and they spoke to me,—although that
seemed strange, for I knew they were dead,—but nearly all were
strangers. They were all so happy! They seemed not to have a care;
nothing to trouble them. Joy was in every face, and happy laughter and
bright, loving words were on every tongue.
“I left that village and walked on to the
next. I was not tired, for it seemed no trouble to walk. It was the same
there; thousands of people, and every one so joyous and happy. Some of
these I knew. I spoke to a few people, then went on again. I seemed to
be on my way to the volcano,—to Pele’s pit,—and could not stop, much as
I wanted to do so.
“All along the road were houses and people,
where I had never known any one to live. Every bit of good ground had
many houses, and many, many happy people on it. I felt so full of joy,
too, that my heart sang within me, and I was glad to be dead.
“In time I came to South Point, and there,
too, was a great crowd of people. The barren point was a great village,
I was greeted with happy alohas, then passed on. All through Kau it was
the same, and I felt happier every minute. At last I reached the
volcano. There were some people there, but not so many as at other
places. They, too, were happy like [61]the others, but they said, ‘You
must go back to your body. You are not to die yet.’
“I did not want to go back. I begged and
prayed to be allowed to stay with them, but they said, ‘No, you must go
back; and if you do not go willingly, we will make you go.’
“I cried and tried to stay, but they drove
me back, even beating me when I stopped and would not go on. So I was
driven over the road I had come, back through all those happy people.
They were still joyous and happy, but when they saw that I was not
allowed to stay, they turned on me and helped drive me, too.
“Over the sixty miles I went, weeping,
followed by those cruel people, till I reached my home and stood by my
body again. I looked at it and hated it. Was that my body? What a
horrid, loathsome thing it was to me now, since I had seen so many
beautiful, happy creatures! Must I go and live in that thing again? No,
I would not go into it; I rebelled and cried for mercy.
“‘You must go into it; we will make you!’
said my tormentors. They took me and pushed me head foremost into the
big toe.
“I struggled and fought, but could not help
myself. They pushed and beat me again, when I tried for the last time to
escape. When I passed the waist, I seemed to know it was of no use to
struggle any more, so went the rest of the way myself. Then my body came
to life again, and I opened my eyes.
“But I wish I could have stayed with those
happy people. It was cruel to make me come back. My other body was so
beautiful, and I was so happy, so happy!” Back
to Contents
Kapeepeekauila;
Or, The Rocks of Kana, Rev. A. O. Forbes
On the
northern side of the island of Molokai, commencing at the eastern end
and stretching along a distance of about twenty miles, the coast is a
sheer precipice of black rock varying in height from eight hundred to
two thousand feet. The only interruptions to the continuity of this vast
sea wall are formed by the four romantic valleys of Pelekunu, Puaahaunui,
Wailau, and Waikolu. Between the valleys of Pelekunu and Waikolu, juts
out the bold, sharp headland of Haupu, forming the dividing ridge
between them, and reminding one somewhat of an axe-head turned edge
upward. Directly in a line with this headland, thirty or forty rods out
in the ocean, arise abruptly from the deep blue waters the rocks of
Haupu, three or four sharp, needle-like points of rock varying from
twenty to one hundred feet in height. This is the spot associated with
the legend of Kapeepeekauila, and these rocks stand like grim sentinels
on duty at the eastern limit of what is now known as the settlement of
Kalawao. The legend runs as follows:
Keahole was the father, Hiiaka-noholae was
the mother, and Kapeepeekauila was the son. This Kapeepeekauila was a
hairy man, and dwelt on the ridge of Haupu.
Once on a time Hakalanileo and his wife
Hina, the mother of Kana, came and dwelt in the valley of Pelekunu, on
the eastern side of the ridge of Haupu.
Kapeepeekauila, hearing of the arrival of
Hina, the beautiful daughter of Kalahiki, sent his children to fetch
her. They went and said to Hina, “Our royal father desires you as his
wife, and we have come for you.”
“Desires me for what?” said she.
“Desires you for a wife,” said they.
This announcement pleased the beautiful
daughter of Kalahiki, and she replied, “Return to your royal father and
tell him he shall be the husband and I will be the wife.”
When this message was delivered to
Kapeepeekauila, he immediately sent a messenger to the other side of the
island to summon all the people from Keonekuina to Kalamaula; for we
have already seen that he was a hairy man, and it was necessary that
this blemish should be removed. Accordingly, when the people had all
arrived, Kapeepeekauila laid himself down and they fell to work until
the hairs were all plucked out. He then took Hina to wife, and they two
dwelt together on the top of Haupu.
Poor Hakalanileo, the husband of Hina,
mourned the loss of his companion of the long nights of winter and the
shower-sprinkled nights of summer. Neither could he regain possession of
her, for the ridge of Haupu grew till it reached the heavens. He mourned
and rolled himself in the dust in agony, and crossed his hands behind
his back. He went from place to place in search of some powerful person
who should be able to restore to him his wife. In his wanderings, the
first person to whom he applied was Kamalalawalu, celebrated for
strength and courage. This man, seeing his doleful plight, asked, “Why
these tears, O my father?”
Hakalanileo replied, “Thy mother is lost.”
“Lost to whom?”
“Lost to Kapeepee.”
“What Kapeepee?”
“Kapeepee-kauila.”
“What Kauila?”
“Kauila, the dauntless, of Haupu.”
“Then, O father, thou wilt not recover thy
wife. Our stick may strike; it will but hit the dust at his feet. His
stick, when it strikes back, will hit the head. Behold, measureless is
the height of Haupu.”
Now, this Kamalalawalu was celebrated for
his strength in throwing stones. Of himself, one side was stone, and the
other flesh. As a test he seized a large stone and threw it upwards. It
rose till it hit the sky and then fell back to earth again. As it came
down, he turned his stony side toward it, and the collision made his
side rattle. Hakalanileo looked on and sadly said, “Not strong enough.”
On he went, beating his breast in his grief,
till he came to the celebrated Niuloihiki. Question and answer passed
between them, as in the former case, but Niuloihiki replied, “It is
hopeless; behold, measureless is the height of Haupu.”
View
in
Wainiha
Valley,
Kauai.
Again he prosecuted his search till he met
the third man of fame, whose name was Kaulu. Question and answer passed,
as before, and Kaulu, to show his strength, seized a river and held it
fast in its course. But Hakalanileo mournfully said, “Not strong
enough.”
Pursuing his way with streaming eyes, he
came to the fourth hero, Lonokaeho by name. As in the former cases, so
in this, he received no satisfaction. These four were all he knew of who
were foremost in prowess, and all four had failed him. It was the end,
and he turned sadly toward the mountain forest, to return to his home.
Meantime, the rumor had reached the ears of
Niheu, surnamed “the Rogue.” Some one told him a father had passed along
searching for some one able to recover him his wife.
“Where is this father of mine?” inquired
Niheu.
“He has gone inland,” was the reply.
“I’ll overtake him; he won’t escape me,”
said Niheu. So he went after the old man, kicking over the trees that
came in his way. The old man had gone on till he was tired and faint,
when Niheu overtook him and brought him back to his house. Then Niheu
asked him, “What made you go on without coming to the house of Niheu?”
“What, indeed,” answered the old man; “as
though I were not seeking to recover thy mother, who is lost!”
Then came question and answer, as in former
cases, and Niheu said, “I fear thou wilt not recover thy wife, O my
father. But let us go inland to the foster son of Uli.” So they went.
But Niheu ran on ahead and told Kana, the foster son of Uli: “Behold,
here comes Hakalanileo, bereft of his wife. We are all beat.”
“Where is he?” inquired Kana.
“Here he is, just arrived.”
Kana looked forth, and Hakalanileo recoiled
with fear at the blazing of his eyes.
Then spoke Niheu: “Why could you not wait
before looking at our father? Behold, you have frightened him, and he
has run back.”
On this, Kana, remaining yet in the house,
stretched forth his hand, and, grasping the old man in the distance,
brought him back and sat him on his lap. Then Kana wept. And the
impudent Niheu said, “Now you are crying; look out for the old man, or
he will get water-soaked.”
But Kana ordered Niheu to bestir himself and
light a fire, for the tears of Kana were as the big dropping rains of
winter, soaking the plain. And Kana said to the old man, “Now, dry
yourself by the fire, and when you are warm, tell your story.”
The old man obeyed, and when he was warm
enough, told the story of his grief. Then said Kana, “Almost spent are
my years; I am only waiting for death, and behold I have at last found a
foeman worthy of my prowess.”
Kana immediately espoused the cause of
Hakalanileo, [68]and ordered his younger brother, Niheu, to construct a
canoe for the voyage. Poor Niheu worked and toiled without success
until, in despair, he exclaimed, upbraidingly, “Thy work is not work; it
is slavery. There thou dwellest at thy ease in thy retreat, while with
thy foot thou destroyest my canoe.”
Upon this, Kana pointed out to Niheu a bush,
and said, “Can you pull up that bush?”
“Yes,” replied Niheu, for it was but a small
bush, and he doubted not his ability to root it up; so he pulled and
tugged away, but could not loosen it.
Kana looking on, said, tauntingly, “Your
foeman will not be overcome by you.”
Then Kana stretched forth his hands,
scratching among the forests, and soon had a canoe in one hand; a little
more and another canoe appeared in the other hand. The twin canoes were
named Kaumueli. He lifted them down to the shore, provided them with
paddles, and then appointed fourteen rowers. Kana embarked with his
magic rod called Waka-i-lani. Thus they set forth to wage war upon
Kapeepeekauila. They went on until the canoes grounded on a hard ledge.
Niheu called out, “Behold, thou sleepest, O
Kana, while we all perish.”
Kana replied, “What is there to destroy us?
Are not these the reefs of Haupu? Away with the ledges, the rock points,
and the yawning chasms! Smite with Waka-i-lani, thy rod.”
Niheu smote, the rocks crumbled to pieces,
and the canoes were freed. They pursued their course again until Niheu,
being on the watch, cried out, “Why sleepest thou, O Kana? Here we
perish, again. Thy like for sleeping I never saw!”
“Wherefore perish?” said Kana.
“Behold,” replied Niheu, “the fearful wall
of water. If we attempt to pass it, it will topple over and destroy us
all.”
Then said Kana: “Behold, behind us the reefs
of Haupu. That is the destruction passed. As for the destruction before
us, smite with thy rod.”
Niheu smote, the wall of water divided, and
the canoes passed safely through. Then they went on their course again,
as before. After a time, Niheu again called out, “Alas, again we perish.
Here comes a great monster. If he falls upon us, we are all dead men.”
And Kana said, “Look sharp, now, and when
the pointed snout crosses our bow, smite with thy rod.”
And he did so, and behold, this great thing
was a monster fish, and when brought on board it became food for them
all. So wonderfully great was this fish that its weight brought the rim
of the canoes down to the water’s edge.
They continued on their way, and next saw
the open mouth of the sharp-toothed shark—another of the outer defences
of Haupu—awaiting them.
“Smite with thy rod,” ordered Kana.
Niheu smote, and the shark died.
Again he prosecuted his search till he met
the third man of fame, whose name was Kaulu. Question and answer passed,
as before, and Kaulu, to show his strength, seized a river and held it
fast in its course. But Hakalanileo mournfully said, “Not strong
enough.”
Pursuing his way with streaming eyes, he
came to the fourth hero, Lonokaeho by name. As in the former cases, so
in this, he received no satisfaction. These four were all he knew of who
were foremost in prowess, and all four had failed him. It was the end,
and he turned sadly toward the mountain forest, to return to his home.
Meantime, the rumor had reached the ears of
Niheu, surnamed “the Rogue.” Some one told him a father had passed along
searching for some one able to recover him his wife.
“Where is this father of mine?” inquired
Niheu.
“He has gone inland,” was the reply.
“I’ll overtake him; he won’t escape me,”
said Niheu. So he went after the old man, kicking over the trees that
came in his way. The old man had gone on till he was tired and faint,
when Niheu overtook him and brought him back to his house. Then Niheu
asked him, “What made you go on without coming to the house of Niheu?”
“What, indeed,” answered the old man; “as
though I were not seeking to recover thy mother, who is lost!”
Then came question and answer, as in former
cases, and Niheu said, “I fear thou wilt not recover thy wife, O my
father. But let us go inland to the foster son of Uli.” So they went.
But Niheu ran on ahead and told Kana, the foster son of Uli: “Behold,
here comes Hakalanileo, bereft of his wife. We are all beat.”
“Where is he?” inquired Kana.
“Here he is, just arrived.”
Kana looked forth, and Hakalanileo recoiled
with fear at the blazing of his eyes.
Then spoke Niheu: “Why could you not wait
before looking at our father? Behold, you have frightened him, and he
has run back.”
On this, Kana, remaining yet in the house,
stretched forth his hand, and, grasping the old man in the distance,
brought him back and sat him on his lap. Then Kana wept. And the
impudent Niheu said, “Now you are crying; look out for the old man, or
he will get water-soaked.”
But Kana ordered Niheu to bestir himself and
light a fire, for the tears of Kana were as the big dropping rains of
winter, soaking the plain. And Kana said to the old man, “Now, dry
yourself by the fire, and when you are warm, tell your story.”
The old man obeyed, and when he was warm
enough, told the story of his grief. Then said Kana, “Almost spent are
my years; I am only waiting for death, and behold I have at last found a
foeman worthy of my prowess.”
Kana immediately espoused the cause of
Hakalanileo, and ordered his younger brother, Niheu, to construct a
canoe for the voyage. Poor Niheu worked and toiled without success
until, in despair, he exclaimed, upbraidingly, “Thy work is not work; it
is slavery. There thou dwellest at thy ease in thy retreat, while with
thy foot thou destroyest my canoe.”
Upon this, Kana pointed out to Niheu a bush,
and said, “Can you pull up that bush?”
“Yes,” replied Niheu, for it was but a small
bush, and he doubted not his ability to root it up; so he pulled and
tugged away, but could not loosen it.
Kana looking on, said, tauntingly, “Your
foeman will not be overcome by you.”
Then Kana stretched forth his hands,
scratching among the forests, and soon had a canoe in one hand; a little
more and another canoe appeared in the other hand. The twin canoes were
named Kaumueli. He lifted them down to the shore, provided them with
paddles, and then appointed fourteen rowers. Kana embarked with his
magic rod called Waka-i-lani. Thus they set forth to wage war upon
Kapeepeekauila. They went on until the canoes grounded on a hard ledge.
Niheu called out, “Behold, thou sleepest, O
Kana, while we all perish.”
Kana replied, “What is there to destroy us?
Are not these the reefs of Haupu? Away with the ledges, the rock points,
and the yawning chasms! Smite with Waka-i-lani, thy rod.”
Niheu smote, the rocks crumbled to pieces,
and the canoes were freed. They pursued their course again until Niheu,
being on the watch, cried out, “Why sleepest thou, O Kana? Here we
perish, again. Thy like for sleeping I never saw!”
“Wherefore perish?” said Kana.
“Behold,” replied Niheu, “the fearful wall
of water. If we attempt to pass it, it will topple over and destroy us
all.”
Then said Kana: “Behold, behind us the reefs
of Haupu. That is the destruction passed. As for the destruction before
us, smite with thy rod.”
Niheu smote, the wall of water divided, and
the canoes passed safely through. Then they went on their course again,
as before. After a time, Niheu again called out, “Alas, again we perish.
Here comes a great monster. If he falls upon us, we are all dead men.”
And Kana said, “Look sharp, now, and when
the pointed snout crosses our bow, smite with thy rod.”
And he did so, and behold, this great thing
was a monster fish, and when brought on board it became food for them
all. So wonderfully great was this fish that its weight brought the rim
of the canoes down to the water’s edge.
They continued on their way, and next saw
the open mouth of the sharp-toothed shark—another of the outer defences
of Haupu—awaiting them.
“Smite with thy rod,” ordered Kana.
Niheu smote, and the shark died.
Next they came upon the great turtle,
another defence of Haupu. Again the sleepy Kana is aroused by the cry of
the watchful Niheu, and the turtle is slain by the stroke of the magic
rod. All this was during the night. At last, just as the edge of the
morning lifted itself from the deep, their mast became entangled in the
branches of the trees. Niheu flung upward a stone. It struck. The
branches came rattling down, and the mast was free. On they went till
the canoes gently stood still. On this, Niheu cried out, “Here you are,
asleep again, O Kana, and the canoes are aground!”
Kana felt beneath; there was no ground. He
felt above; the mast was entangled in weeds. He pulled, and the weeds
and earth came down together. The smell of the fresh-torn weeds was
wafted up to Hale-huki, the house where Kapeepeekauila lived. His
people, on the top of Haupu, looked down on the canoes floating at the
foot. “Wondrous is the size of the canoes!” they cried. “Ah! it is a
load of opihis (shell-fish) from Hawaii for Hina,” for that was a
favorite dish with her.
Meantime, Kana despatched Niheu after his
mother. “Go in friendly fashion,” said the former.
Niheu leaped ashore, but slipped and fell on
the smooth rocks. Back he went to the canoes.
“What sort of a coming back is this?”
demanded Kana.
“I slipped and fell, and just escaped with
my life,” answered Niheu.
“Back with you!” thundered Kana.
Again the luckless Niheu sprang ashore, but
the long-eyed sand-crabs (ohiki-makaloa) made the sand fly with their
scratching till his eyes were filled. Back to the canoes again he went.
“Got it all in my eyes!” said he, and he washed them out with sea-water.
“You fool!” shouted Kana; “what were you
looking down for? The sand-crabs are not birds. If you had been looking
up, as you ought, you would not have got the sand in your eyes. Go
again!”
This time he succeeded, and climbed to the
top of Haupu. Arriving at the house, Hale-huki, where Hina dwelt, he
entered at once. Being asked “Why enterest thou this forbidden door?” he
replied:
“Because I saw thee entering by this door.
Hadst thou entered some other way, I should not have come in at the
door.” And behold, Kapeepeekauila and Hina sat before him. Then Niheu
seized the hand of Hina and said, “Let us two go.” And she arose and
went.
When they had gone about half-way to the
brink of the precipice, Kapeepeekauila exclaimed, “What is this? Is the
woman gone?”
Mo-i, the sister of Kana, answered and said,
“If you wish the woman, now is the time; you and I fight.”
Great was the love of Kapeepeekauila for
Hina, and he said, “No war dare touch Haupu; behold, it is a hill,
growing even to the heavens.” And he sent the kolea (plover) squad to
desecrate the sacred locks of Niheu; for the locks of Niheu were kapu,
and if they should be touched, he would relinquish Hina for very shame.
So the kolea company sailed along in the air till they brushed against
the sacred locks of Niheu, and for very shame he let go his mother and
struck at the koleas with his rod and hit their tail feathers and
knocked them all out, so that they remain tailless to this day. And he
returned to the edge of the shore, while the koleas bore off Hina in
triumph.
When Niheu reached the shore, he beat his
forehead with stones till the blood flowed; a trick which Kana perceived
from on board the canoes. And when Niheu went on board he said, “See! we
fought and I got my head hurt.”
But Kana replied, “There was no fight; you
did it yourself, out of shame at your defeat.”
And Niheu replied, “What, then, shall we
fight?”
“Yes,” said Kana, and he stood up.
Now, one of his legs was named Keauea and
the other Kaipanea, and as he stood upon the canoes, he began to
lengthen himself upward until the dwellers on top of Haupu exclaimed in
terror, “We are all dead men! Behold, here is a great giant towering
above us.”
And Kapeepeekauila, seeing this, hastened to
prune the branches of the kamani tree (Calophyllum inophyllum), so that
the bluff should grow upward. And the bluff rose, and Kana grew. Thus
they strove, the bluff rising higher and Kana growing taller, until he
became as the stalk of a banana leaf, and gradually spun himself out
till he was no thicker than a strand of a spider’s web, and at last he
yielded the victory to Kapeepeekauila.
Niheu, seeing the defeat of Kana, called
out, “Lay yourself along to Kona, on Hawaii, to your grandmother, Uli.”
And he laid himself along with his body in
Kona, while his feet rested on Molokai. His grandmother in Kona fed him
until he became plump and fat again. Meanwhile, poor Niheu, watching at
his feet on Molokai, saw their sides fill out with flesh while he was
almost starved with hunger. “So, then,” quoth he, “you are eating and
growing fat while I die with hunger.” And he cut off one of Kana’s feet
for revenge.
The sensation crept along up to his body,
which lay in Kona, and Kana said to his grandmother, Uli, “I seem to
feel a numbness creeping over me.”
And she answered, and said, “Thy younger
brother is hungry with watching, and seeing thy feet grow plump, he has
cut off one of them; therefore this numbness.”
Kana, having at last grown strong and fat,
prepared to wage war again upon Kapeepeekauila. Food was collected in
abundance from Waipio, and when it was prepared, they embarked again in
their canoes and came back to Haupu, on Molokai. But his grandmother,
Uli, had previously instructed him to first destroy all the branches of
the kamani tree of Haupu. Then he showed himself, and began again to
stretch upward and tower above the bluff. Kapeepeekauila hastened again
to trim the branches of the kamani, that the bluff might grow as before;
but behold, they were all gone! It was the end; Kapeepeekauila was at
last vanquished. The victorious Kana recovered his sister, Mo-i,
restored to poor Hakalanileo his wife, Hina, and then, tearing down the
bluff of Haupu, kicked off large portions of it into the sea, where they
stand to this day, and are called “The Rocks of Kana.”
Back to Contents
Part I
Kaopele was born in Waipio, Hawaii. When
born he did not breathe, and his parents were greatly troubled; but they
washed his body clean, and having arrayed it in good clothes, they
watched anxiously over the body for several days, and then, concluding
it to be dead, placed it in a small cave in the face of the cliff. There
the body remained from the summer month of Ikiki (July or August) to the
winter month of Ikua (December or January), a period of six months.
At this time they were startled by a violent
storm of thunder and lightning, and the rumbling of an earthquake. At
the same time appeared the marvellous phenomenon of eight rainbows
arching over the mouth of the cave. Above the din of the storm the
parents heard the voice of the awakened child calling to them:
“Let your love rest upon me,
O my parents, who have thrust me forth,
Who have left me in the cavernous cliff,
Who have heartlessly placed me in the
Cliff frequented by the tropic bird!
O Waiaalaia, my mother!
O Waimanu, my father!
Come and take me!”
The yearning love of the mother earnestly
besought the father to go in quest of the infant; but he protested that
search was useless, as the child was long since dead. But, unable longer
to endure a woman’s teasing, which is the same in all ages, he finally
set forth in high dudgeon, vowing that in case of failure he would
punish her on his return.
On reaching the place where the babe had
been deposited, its body was not to be found. But lifting up his eyes
and looking about, he espied the child perched on a tree, braiding a
wreath from the scarlet flowers of the lehua (Metrosideros polymorpha).
“I have come to take you home with me,” said the father. But the infant
made no answer. The mother received the child to her arms with
demonstrations of the liveliest affection. At her suggestion they named
the boy Kaopele, from the name of their goddess, Pele.
Six months after this, on the first day
(Hilo) of the new moon, in the month of Ikiki, they returned home from
working in the fields and found the child lying without breath,
apparently dead. After venting their grief for their darling in loud
lamentations, they erected a frame to receive its dead body.
Time healed the wounds of their affection,
and after the lapse of six moons they had ceased to mourn, when suddenly
they were affrighted by a storm of thunder and lightning, with a quaking
of the earth, in the midst of which they distinguished the cry of their
child, “Oh, come; come and take me!”
They, overjoyed at this second restoration
of their child to them, and deeming it to be a miracle worked by their
goddess, made up their minds that if it again fell into a trance they
would not be anxious, since their goddess would awake their child and
bring it to life again.
But afterward the child informed them of
their mistake, saying: “This marvel that you see in me is a trance; when
I pass into my deep sleep my spirit at once floats away in the upper air
with the goddess, Poliahu. We are a numerous band of spirits, but I
excel them in the distance of my flights. In one day I can compass this
island of Hawaii, as well as Maui, Oahu, and Kauai, and return again. In
my flights I have seen that Kauai is the richest of all the islands, for
it is well supplied with food and fish, and it is abundantly watered. I
intend to remain with you until I am grown; then I shall journey to
Kauai and there spend the rest of my life.” Thus Kaopele lived with his
parents until he was grown, but his habit of trance still clung to him.
Then one day he filled them with grief by
saying: “I am going, aloha.”
They sealed their love for each other with
tears and kisses, and he slept and was gone. He alighted at Kula, on
Maui. There he engaged in cultivating food. When his crops were nearly
ripe and ready to be eaten he again fell into his customary deep sleep,
and when he awoke he found that the people of the land had eaten up all
his crops.
Then he flew away to a place called
Kapapakolea, in Moanalua, on Oahu, where he set out a new plantation.
Here the same fortune befell him, and his time for sleep came upon him
before his crops were fit for eating. When he awoke, his plantation had
gone to waste.
Again he moves on, and this time settles in
Lihue, Oahu, where for the third time he sets out a plantation of food,
but is prevented from eating it by another interval of sleep. Awakening,
he finds his crops overripe and wasted by neglect and decay.
His restless ambition now carries him to
Lahuimalo, still on the island of Oahu, where his industry plants
another crop of food. Six months pass, and he is about to eat of the
fruits of his labor, when one day, on plunging into the river to bathe,
he falls into his customary trance, and his lifeless body is floated by
the stream out into the ocean and finally cast up by the waters on the
sands of Maeaea, a place in Waialua, Oahu.
At the same time there arrived a man from
Kauai in search of a human body to offer as a sacrifice at the temple of
Kahikihaunaka at Wailua, on Kauai, and having seen the corpse of Kaopele
on the beach, he asks and obtains permission of the feudal lord (Konohiki)
of Waialua to take it. Thus it happens that Kaopele is taken by canoe to
the island of Kauai and placed, along with the corpse of another man, on
the altar of the temple at Wailua.
There he lay until the bones of his fellow
corpse had begun to fall apart. When six moons had [78]been
accomplished, at midnight there came a burst of thunder and an
earthquake. Kaopele came to life, descended from the altar, and directed
his steps toward a light which he saw shining through some chinks in a
neighboring house. He was received by the occupants of the house with
that instant and hearty hospitality which marks the Hawaiian race, and
bidden to enter (“mai, komo mai”).
Food was set before him, with which he
refreshed himself. The old man who seemed to be the head of the
household was so much pleased and impressed with the bearing and
appearance of our hero that he forthwith sought to secure him to be the
husband of his granddaughter, a beautiful girl named Makalani. Without
further ado, he persuaded him to be a suitor for the hand of the girl,
and while it was yet night, started off to obtain the girl’s consent and
to bring her back with him.
The young woman was awakened from her
slumbers in the night to hear the proposition of her grandfather, who
painted to her in glowing colors the manly attractions of her suitor.
The suit found favor in the eyes of the girl’s parents and she herself
was nothing loath; but with commendable maidenly propriety she insisted
that her suitor should be brought and presented to her, and that she
should not first seek him.
The sun had hardly begun to lift the dew
from the grass when our young hero, accompanied by the two matchmakers,
was brought into the presence of his future wife. They found favor in
each other’s eyes, and an ardent attachment sprang up on the instant.
Matters sped apace. A separate house was assigned as the residence of
the young couple, and their married life began felicitously.
But the instincts of a farmer were even
stronger in the breast of Kaopele than the bonds of matrimony. In the
middle of the night he arose, and, leaving the sleeping form of his
bride, passed out into the darkness. He went mauka until he came upon an
extensive upland plain, where he set to work clearing and making ready
for planting. This done, he collected from various quarters shoots and
roots of potato (kalo), banana (waoke), awa, and other plants, and
before day the whole plain was a plantation. After his departure his
wife awoke with a start and found her husband was gone. She went into
the next house, where her parents were sleeping, and, waking them, made
known her loss; but they knew nothing of his whereabouts. Much
perplexed, they were still debating the cause of his departure, when he
suddenly returned, and to his wife’s questioning, answered that he had
been at work.
She gently reproved him for interrupting
their bridal night with agriculture, and told him there would be time
enough for that when they had lived together a while and had completed
their honeymoon. “And besides,” said she, “if you wish to turn your hand
to agriculture, here is the plat of ground at hand in which my father
works, and you need not go up to that plain where only wild hogs roam.”
To this he replied: “My hand constrains me
to plant; I crave work; does idleness bring in anything? There is profit
only when a man turns the palm of his hand to the soil: that brings in
food for family and friends. If one were indeed the son of a king he
could sleep until the sun was high in the heavens, and then rise and
find the bundles of cooked food ready for him. But for a plain man, the
only thing to do is to cultivate the soil and plant, and when he returns
from his work let him light his oven, and when the food is cooked let
the husband and the wife crouch about the hearth and eat together.”
Again, very early on the following morning,
while his wife slept, Kaopele rose, and going to the house of a
neighbor, borrowed a fishhook with its tackle. Then, supplying himself
with bait, he went a-fishing in the ocean and took an enormous quantity
of fish. On his way home he stopped at the house where he had borrowed
the tackle and returned it, giving the man also half of the fish.
Arrived at home, he threw the load of fish onto the ground with a thud
which waked his wife and parents.
“So you have been a-fishing,” said his wife.
“Thinking you had again gone to work in the field, I went up there, but
you were not there. But what an immense plantation you have set out!
Why, the whole plain is covered.”
His father-in-law said, “A fine lot of fish,
my boy.”
Thus went life with them until the crops
were ripe, when one day Kaopele said to his wife, who was now evidently
with child, “If the child to be born is a boy, name it Kalelealuaka; but
if it be a girl, name it as you will, from your side of the family.”
From his manner she felt uneasy and
suspicious of him, and said, “Alas! do you intend to desert me?”
Then Kaopele explained to his wife that he
was not really going to leave her, as men are wont to forsake their
wives, but he foresaw that that was soon to happen which was habitual to
him, and he felt that on the night of the morrow a deep sleep would fall
upon him (puni ka hiamoe), which would last for six months. Therefore,
she was not to fear.
“Do not cast me out nor bury me in the
ground,” said he. Then he explained to her how he happened to be taken
from Oahu to Kauai and how he came to be her husband, and he commanded
her to listen attentively to him and to obey him implicitly. Then they
pledged their love to each other, talking and not sleeping all that
night.
On the following day all the friends and
neighbors assembled, and as they sat about, remarks were made among them
in an undertone, like this, “So this is the man who was placed on the
altar of the heiau at Wailua.” And as evening fell he bade them all
aloha, and said that he should be separated from them for six months,
but that his body would remain with them if they obeyed his commands.
And, having kissed his wife, he fell into the dreamful, sacred sleep of
Niolo-kapu.
On the sixth day the father-in-law said:
“Let us bury your husband, lest he stink. I thought it was to be only a
natural sleep, but it is ordinary death. Look, his body is rigid, his
flesh is cold, and he does not breathe; these are the signs of death.”
But Makalani protested, “I will not let him
be buried; let him lie here, and I will watch over him as he commanded;
you also heard his words.” But in spite of the wife’s earnest protests,
the hard-hearted father-in-law gathered strong vines of the koali
(convolvulus), tied them about Kaopele’s feet, and attaching to them
heavy stones, caused his body to be conveyed in a canoe and sunk in the
dark waters of the ocean midway between Kauai and Oahu.
Makalani lived in sorrow for her husband
until the birth of her child, and as it was a boy, she called his name
Kalelealuaka.
Part II
When the child was about two months old the
sky became overcast and there came up a mighty storm, with lightning and
an earthquake. Kaopele awoke in his dark, watery couch, unbound the
cords that held his feet, and by three powerful strokes raised himself
to the surface of the water. He looked toward Kauai and Oahu, but love
for his wife and child prevailed and drew him to Kauai.
In the darkness of night he stood by his
wife’s bed and, feeling for her, touched her forehead with his clammy
hand. She awoke with a start, and on his making himself known she
screamed with fright, “Ghost of Kaopele!” and ran to her parents. Not
until a candle was lighted would she believe it to be her husband. The
step-parents, in fear and shame at [83]their heartless conduct, fled
away, and never returned. From this time forth Kaopele was never again
visited by a trance; his virtue had gone out from him to the boy
Kalelealuaka.
When Kalelealuaka was ten years old Kaopele
began to train the lad in athletic sports and to teach him all the arts
of war and combat practised throughout the islands, until he had
attained great proficiency in them. He also taught him the arts of
running and jumping, so that he could jump either up or down a high pali,
or run, like a waterfowl on the surface of the water. After this, one
day Kalelealuaka went over to Wailua, where he witnessed the games of
the chiefs. The youth spoke contemptuously of their performances as mere
child’s play; and when his remark was reported to the King he challenged
the young man to meet him in a boxing encounter. When Kalelealuaka came
into the presence of the King his royal adversary asked him what wager
he brought. As the youth had nothing with him, he seriously proposed
that each one should wager his own body against that of the other one.
The proposal was readily accepted. The herald sounded the signal of
attack, and both contestants rushed at each other. Kalelealuaka warily
avoided the attack by the King, and hastened to deliver a blow which
left his opponent at his mercy; and thereupon, using his privilege, he
robbed the King of his life, and to the astonishment of all, carried
away the body to lay as a sacrifice on the altar of the temple, hitherto
unconsecrated by human sacrifice, which he and his father Kaopele had
recently built in honor of their deity.
After a time there reached the ear of
Kalelealuaka a report of the great strength of a certain chief who lived
in Hanalei. Accordingly, without saying anything about his intention, he
went over to the valley of Hanalei. He found the men engaged in the game
of throwing heavy spears at the trunk of a cocoanut-tree. As on the
previous occasion, he invited a challenge by belittling their exploits,
and when challenged by the chief, fearlessly proposed, as a wager, the
life of one against the other. This was accepted, and the chief had the
first trial. His spear hit the stem of the huge tree and made its lofty
crest nod in response to the blow. It was now the turn of Kalelealuaka
to hurl the spear. In anticipation of the failure of the youth and his
own success, the chief took the precaution to station his guards about
Kalelealuaka, to be ready to seize him on the instant. In a tone of
command our hero bade the guards fall back, and brandishing his spear,
stroked and polished it with his hands from end to end; then he poised
and hurled it, and to the astonishment of all, lo! the tree was shivered
to pieces. On this the people raised a shout of admiration at the
prowess of the youth, and declared he must be the same hero who had
slain the chief at Wailua. In this way Kalelealuaka obtained a second
royal sacrifice with which to grace the altar of his temple.
One clear, calm evening, as Kalelealuaka
looked out to sea, he descried the island of Oahu, which is often
clearly visible from Kauai, and asked his father what land that was that
stood out against them. Kaopele told the youth it was Oahu; that the
cape that swam out into the ocean like a waterfowl was Kaena; that the
retreating contour of the coast beyond was Waianae. Thus he described
the land to his son. The result was that the adventurous spirit of
Kalelealuaka was fired to explore this new island for himself, and he
expressed this wish to his father. Everything that Kalelealuaka said or
did was good in the eye of his father, Kaopele. Accordingly, he
immediately set to work and soon had a canoe completely fitted out, in
which Kalelealuaka might start on his travels. Kalelealuaka took with
him, as travelling companion, a mere lad named Kaluhe, and embarked in
his canoe. With two strokes of the paddle his prow grated on the sands
of Waianae.
Before leaving Kauai his father had imparted
to Kalelealuaka something of the topography of Oahu, and had described
to him the site of his former plantation at Keahumoe. At Waianae the two
travellers were treated affably by the people of the district. In reply
to the questions put them, they said they were going sight-seeing. As
they went along they met a party of boys amusing themselves with darting
arrows; one of them asked permission to join their party. This was
given, and the three turned inland and journeyed till they reached a
plain of soft, whitish rock, where they all refreshed themselves with
food. Then they kept on ascending, until Keahumoe lay before them,
dripping with hoary moisture from the mist of the mountain, yet as if
smiling through its tears. Here were standing bananas with ripened,
yellow fruit, upland kalo, and sugar cane, rusty and crooked with age,
while the sweet potatoes had crawled out of the earth and were cracked
and dry. It was the very place where Kaopele, the father of
Kalelealuaka, had years before set out the plants from which these were
descended.
“This is our food, and a good place,
perhaps, for us to settle down,” said Kalelealuaka; “but before we make
up our minds to stay here let me dart an arrow; and if it drops soon we
shall stay, but if it flies afar we shall not tarry here.” Kalelealuaka
darted his arrow, while his companions looked on intently. The arrow
flew along, passing over many a hill and valley, and finally rested
beyond Kekuapoi, while they followed the direction of its wonderful
flight. Kalelealuaka sent his companions on to find the arrow, telling
them at the same time to go to the villages and get some awa roots for
drink, while he would remain there and put up a shelter for them.
Scene
in Olokele Gulch, Makaweli,
Kauai.
On their way the two companions of
Kalelealuaka encountered a number of women washing kalo in a stream, and
on asking them if they had seen their arrow flying that way they
received an impertinent answer; whereupon they called out the name of
the arrow, “Pua-ne, Pua-ne,” and it came to their hands at once. At this
the women ran away, frightened at the marvel.
The two boys then set to gathering awa
roots, as they had been bidden. Seeing them picking up worthless
fragments, a kind-hearted old man, who turned out to be the konohiki of
the land, sent by his servants an abundance of good food to
Kalelealuaka.
On their return the boys found, to their
astonishment, that during their absence Kalelealuaka had put up a fine,
large house, which was all complete but the mats to cover the floors.
The kind-hearted konohili remarked this, and immediately sent her
servants to fetch mats for the floors and sets of kapa for bedding,
adding the command, “And with them bring along some malos” (girdles used
by the males). Soon all their wants were supplied, and the three youths
were set up in housekeeping. To these services the konohiki, through his
attendants, added still others; some chewed and strained the awa, while
others cooked and spread for them a bountiful repast. The three youths
ate and drank, and under the drowsy influence of the awa they slept
until the little birds that peopled the wilderness about them waked them
with their morning songs; then they roused and found the sun already
climbing the heavens.
Now, Kalelealuaka called to his comrades,
and said, “Rouse up and let us go to cultivating.” To this they agreed,
and each one set to work in his own way, working his own piece of
ground. The ground prepared by Kalelealuaka was a strip of great length,
reaching from the mountain down toward the ocean. This he cleared and
planted the same day. His two companions, however, spent several days in
clearing their ground, and then several days more in planting it. While
these youths occupied their mountain home, the people of that region
were well supplied with food. The only lack of Kalelealuaka and his
comrades was animal food (literally, fish), but they supplied its place
as well as [88]they could with such herbs as the tender leaves of the
popolo, which they cooked like spinach, and with inamona made from the
roasted nuts of the kukui tree (Aleurites molluccana).
One day, as they were eking out their frugal
meal with a mess of popolo cooked by the lad from Waianae, Kalelealuaka
was greatly disgusted at seeing a worm in that portion that the youth
was eating, and thereupon nicknamed him Keinohoomanawanui (sloven, or
more literally, the persistently unclean). The name ever after stuck to
him. This same fellow had the misfortune, one evening, to injure one of
his eyes by the explosion of a kukui nut which he was roasting on the
fire. As a result, that member was afflicted with soreness, and finally
became blinded. But their life agreed with them, and the youths throve
and increased in stature, and grew to be stout and lusty young men.
Now, it happened that ever since their stay
at their mountain house, Lelepua (arrow flight), they had kept a torch
burning all night, which was seen by Kakuhihewa, the King of Oahu, and
had caused him uneasiness.
One fine evening, when they had eaten their
fill and had gone to bed, Kalelealuaka called to Keinohoomanawanui and
said, “Halloo there! are you asleep?”
And he replied, “No; have I drunk awa? I am
restless. My eyes will not close.”
“Well,” said Kalelealuaka, “when you are
restless at night, what does your mind find to do?”
“Nothing,” said the Sloven.
“I find something to think about,” said
Kalelealuaka.
“What is that?” said the Sloven.
“Let us wish” (kuko, literally, to lust),
said Kalelealuaka.
“What shall we wish?” said the Sloven.
“Whatever our hearts most earnestly desire,”
said Kalelealuaka. Thereupon they both wished. The Sloven, in accordance
with his nature, wished for things to eat,—the eels, from the fish-pond
of Hanaloa (in the district of Ewa), to be cooked in an oven together
with sweet potatoes, and a bowl of awa.
“Pshaw, what a beggarly wish!” said
Kalelealuaka. “I thought you had a real wish. I have a genuine wish.
Listen: The beautiful daughters of Kakuhihewa to be my wives; his fatted
pigs and dogs to be baked for us; his choice kalo, sugar cane, and
bananas to be served up for us; that Kakuhihewa himself send and get
timber and build a house for us; that he pull the famous awa of Kahauone;
that the King send and fetch us to him; that he chew the awa for us in
his own mouth, strain and pour it for us, and give us to drink until we
are happy, and then take us to our house.”
Trembling with fear at the audacious
ambition of his concupiscent companion, the Sloven replied, “If your
wish should come to the ears of the King, we shall die; indeed, we
should die.”
In truth, as they were talking together and
uttering their wishes, Kakuhihewa had arrived, and was all the time
listening to their conversation from the outside of their house. When
the King had heard their conversation he thrust his spear into the
ground outside [90]the inclosure about Kalelealuaka’s house, and by the
spear placed his stone hatchet (pahoa), and immediately returned to his
residence at Puuloa. Upon his arrival at home that night King Kakuhihewa
commanded his stewards to prepare a feast, and then summoned his chiefs
and table companions and said, “Let us sup.” When all was ready and they
had seated themselves, the King said, “Shall we eat, or shall we talk?”
One of them replied: “If it please the King,
perhaps it were better for him to speak first; it may be what he has to
say touches a matter of life and death; therefore, let him speak and we
will listen.”
Then Kakuhihewa told them the whole story of
the light seen in the mountains, and of the wishes of Kalelealuaka and
the Sloven.
Then up spoke the soldiers, and said:
“Death! This man is worthy to be put to death; but as for the other one,
let him live.”
“Hold,” said the King, “not so fast! Before
condemning him to death, I will call together the wise men, priests,
wizards, and soothsayers; perchance they will find that this is the man
to overcome Kualii in battle.” Thereupon all the wise men, priests,
wizards, and soothsayers were immediately summoned, and after the King
had explained the whole story to them they agreed with the opinion of
the soldiers. Again the King interposed delay, and said, “Wait until my
wise kahuna Napuaikamao comes; if his opinion agrees with yours, then,
indeed, let the man be put to death; but if he is wiser than you, the
man shall live. But you will have eaten this food in vain.”
So the King sent one of his fleetest runners
to go and fetch Napuaikamao. To him the King said, “I have sent for you
to decide what is just and right in the case of these two men who lived
up in the region of Waipio.” Then he went on to state the whole case to
this wise man.
“In regard to Keinohoomanawanui’s wish,”
said the wise man, “that is an innocent wish, but it is profitless and
will bring no blessing.” At the narration of Kalelealuaka’s wish he
inclined his head, as if in thought; then lifting his head, he looked at
the King and said: “O King, as for this man’s wish, it is an ambition
which will bring victory to the government. Now, then, send all your
people and fetch house-timber and awa.”
As soon as the wise man had given this
opinion, the King commanded his chief marshal, Maliuhaaino, to set every
one to work to carry out the directions of this counsellor. This was
done, and before break of day every man, woman, and child in the
district of Ewa, a great multitude, was on the move.
Now, when the Sloven awoke in the morning
and went out of doors, he found the stone hatchet (pahoa) of the King,
with his spear, standing outside of the house. On seeing this he rushed
back into the house and exclaimed to his comrades, “Alas! our wishes
have been overheard by the King; here are his hatchet and his spear. I
said that if the King heard us we should die, and he has indeed heard
us. But yours was the fatal ambition; mine was only an innocent wish.”
Even while they were talking, the babble of
the multitude drew near, and the Sloven exclaimed, “Our death
approaches!”
Kalelealuaka replied, “That is not for our
death; it is the people coming to get timber for our houses.” But the
fear of the Sloven would not be quieted.
The multitude pressed on, and by the time
the last of them had reached the mountain the foremost had returned to
the sea-coast and had begun to prepare the foundations for the houses,
to dig the holes for the posts, to bind on the rafters and the small
poles on which they tied the thatch, until the houses were done.
Meantime, some were busy baking the pigs and
the poi-fed dogs in ovens; some in bringing the eels of Kanaloa and
cooking them with potatoes in an oven by themselves.
The houses are completed, everything is
ready, the grand marshal, Maliuhaaino, has just arrived in front of the
house of the ambitious youth Kalelealuaka, and calls out
“Keinohoomanawanui, come out!” and he comes out, trembling.
“Kalelealuaka, come out!” and he first sends out the boy Kaluhe and then
comes forth himself and stands outside, a splendid youth. The marshal
stands gazing at him in bewilderment and admiration. When he has
regained his equanimity he says to him, “Mount on my back and let us go
down.”
“No,” said Kalelealuaka, “I will go by
myself, and do you walk ahead. I will follow after; but do not look
behind you, lest you die.”
As soon as they had started down,
Kalelealuaka was transported to Kuaikua, in Helemano. There he plunged
into the water and bathed all over; this done, he called on his
ancestral shades (Aumakua), who came and performed on him the rite of
circumcision while lightning flashed, thunder sounded, and the earth
quaked.
Kaopele, on Kauai, heard the commotion and
exclaimed, “Ah! my son has received the purifying rite—the offspring of
the gods goes to meet the sovereign of the land” (Alii aimoku).
Meanwhile, the party led by Maliuhaaino was
moving slowly down toward the coast, because the marshal himself was
lame. Returning from his purification, Kalelealuaka alighted just to the
rear of the party, who had not noticed his absence, and becoming
impatient at the tedious slowness of the journey,—for the day was
waning, and the declining sun was already standing over a peak of the
Waianae Mountains called Puukuua,—this marvellous fellow caught up the
lame marshal in one hand and his two comrades in the other, and, flying
with them, set them down at Puuloa. But the great marvel was, that they
knew nothing about being transported, yet they had been carried and set
down as from a sheet.
On their arrival at the coast all was ready,
and the people were waiting for them. A voice called out, “Here is you
house, Keinohoomanawanui!” and the Sloven entered with alacrity and
found bundles of his wished-for eels and potatoes already cooked and
awaiting his disposal.
But Kalelealuaka proudly declined to enter
the house prepared for himself when the invitation came to him, “Come
in! this is your house,” all because his little friend Kaluhe, whose
eyes had often been filled with smoke while cooking luau and roasting
kukui nuts for him, had not been included in the invitation, and he saw
that no provision had been made for him. When this was satisfactorily
arranged Kalelealuaka and his little friend entered and sat down to eat.
The King, with his own hand, poured out awa for Kalelealuaka, brought
him a gourd of water to rinse his mouth, offered him food, and waited
upon him till he had supplied all his wants.
Now, when Kalelealuaka had well drunken, and
was beginning to feel drowsy from the awa, the lame marshal came in and
led him to the two daughters of Kakuhihewa, and from that time these two
lovely girls were his wives.
Part III
Thus they lived for perhaps thirty days (he
mau anabulu), when a messenger arrived, announcing that Kualii was
making war at Moanalua. The soldiers of Kakuhihewa quickly made
themselves ready, and among them Keinohoomanawanui went out to battle.
The lame marshal had started for the scene the night before.
On the morning of the day of battle,
Kalelealuaka said to his wives that he had a great hankering for some
shrimps and moss, which must be gathered in a particular way, and that
nothing else would please his appetite. Thereupon, they dutifully set
out to obtain these things for him. As soon as they had gone from
[95]the house Kalelealuaka flew to Waianae and arrayed himself with
wreaths of the fine-leaved maile (Maile laulii). which is peculiar to
that region. Thence he flew to Napeha, where the lame marshal,
Maliuhaaino, was painfully climbing the hill on his way to battle.
Kalelealuaka cheerily greeted him, and the following dialogue occurred:
K. “Whither are you trudging, Maliuhaaino?”
M. “What! don’t you know about the war?”
K. “Let me carry you.”
M. “How fast you travel! Where are you
from?”
K. “From Waianae.”
M. “So I see from your wreaths. Yes, carry
me, and Waianae shall be yours.”
At the word Kalelealuaka picked up the
cripple and set him down on an eminence mauka of the battlefield,
saying, “Remain you here and watch me. If I am killed in the fight, you
return by the same way we came and report to the King.”
Kalelealuaka then addressed himself to the
battle, but before attacking the enemy he revenged himself on those who
had mocked and jeered at him for not joining the forces of Kakuhihewa.
This done, he turned his hand against the enemy, who at the time were
advancing and inflicting severe loss in the King’s army.
To what shall we compare the prowess of our
hero? A man was plucked and torn in his hand as if he were but a leaf.
The commotion in the ranks of the enemy was as when a powerful waterfowl
lashes the water with his wings (O haehae ka manu, Ke ale nei ka wai).
Kalelealuaka moved forward in his work of destruction until he had slain
the captain who stood beside the rebel chief, Kualii. From the fallen
captain he took his feather cloak and helmet and cut off his right ear
and the little finger of his right hand. Thus ended the slaughter that
day.
The enthusiasm of the cripple was roused to
the highest pitch on witnessing the achievements of Kalelealuaka, and he
determined to return and report that he had never seen his equal on the
battlefield.
Kalelealuaka returned to Puuloa, and hid the
feather cloak and helmet under the mats of his bed, and having fastened
the dead captain’s ear and little finger to the side of the house, lay
down and slept.
After a while, when the two women, his
wives, returned with the moss and shrimps, he complained that the moss
was not gathered as he had directed, and that they had been gone such a
long time that his appetite had entirely left him, and he would not eat
of what they had brought. At this the elder sister said nothing, but the
younger one muttered a few words to herself; and as they were all very
tired they soon went to sleep.
They had slept a long while when the tramp
of the soldiers of Kakuhihewa was heard, returning from the battle. The
King immediately asked how the battle had gone. The soldiers answered
that the battle had gone well, but that Keinohoomanawanui alone had
greatly distinguished himself. To this the King replied he did not
believe that the Sloven was a great warrior, but when the cripple
returned he would learn the truth.
About midnight the footsteps of the lame
marshal were heard outside of the King’s house. Kakuhihewa called to
him, “Come, how went the battle?”
“Can’t you have patience and let me take
breath?” said the marshal. Then when he had rested himself he answered,
“They fought, but there was one man who excelled all the warriors in the
land. He was from Waianae. I gave Waianae to him as a reward for
carrying me.”
“It shall be his,” said the King.
“He tore a man to pieces,” said the cripple,
“as he would tear a banana-leaf. The champion of Kualii’s army he
killed, and plundered him of his feather cloak and helmet.”
“The soldiers say that Keinohoomanawanui was
the hero of the day,” said the King.
“What!” said the cripple. “He did nothing.
He merely strutted about. But this man—I never saw his equal; he had no
spear, his only weapons were his hands; if a spear was hurled at him, he
warded it off with his hair. His hair and features, by the way, greatly
resemble those of your son-in-law.”
Thus they conversed till daybreak.
After a few days, again came a messenger
announcing that the rebel Kualii was making war on the plains of
Kulaokahua. On hearing this Kakuhihewa immediately collected his
soldiers. As usual, the lame marshal set out in advance the evening
before the battle.
In the morning, after the army had gone,
Kalelealuaka said to his wives, “I am thirsting for some water taken
with the snout of the calabash held downward. I shall not relish it if
it is taken with the snout turned up.” Now, Kalelealuaka knew that they
could not fill the calabash if held this way, but he resorted to this
artifice to present the two young women from knowing of his miraculous
flight to the battle. As soon as the young women had got out of sight he
hastened to Waialua and arrayed himself in the rough and shaggy wreaths
of uki from the lagoons of Ukoa and of hinahina from Kealia. Thus
arrayed, he alighted behind the lame marshal as he climbed the hill at
Napeha, slapped him on the back, exchanged greetings with him, and
received a compliment on his speed; and when asked whence he came, he
answered from Waialua. The shrewd, observant cripple recognized the
wreaths as being those of Waialua, but he did not recognize the man, for
the wreaths with which Kalelealuaka had decorated himself were of such a
color—brownish gray—as to give him the appearance of a man of middle
age. He lifted the cripple as before, and set him down on the brow of
Puowaina (Punch Bowl Hill), and received from the grateful cripple, as a
reward for his service, all the land of Waialua for his own.
This done, Kalelealuaka repeated the
performances of the previous battle. The enemy melted away before him,
whichever way he turned. He stayed his hand only when he had slain the
captain of the host and stripped him of his feather cloak and helmet,
taking also his right ear and little finger. The speed with which
Kalelealuaka returned to his home at Puuloa was like the flight of a
bird. The spoils and trophies of this battle he disposed of as before.
The two young women, Kalelealuaka’s wives,
turned the nozzle of the water-gourd downward, as they were bidden, and
continued to press it into the water, in the vain hope that it might
rise and fill their container, until the noonday sun began to pour his
rays directly upon their heads; but no water entered their calabash.
Then the younger sister proposed to the elder to fill the calabash in
the usual way, saying that Kalelealuaka would not know the difference.
This they did, and returned home.
Kalelealuaka would not drink of the water,
declaring that it had been dipped up. At this the younger wife laughed
furtively; the elder broke forth and said: “It is due to the slowness of
the way you told us to employ in getting the water. We are not
accustomed to the menial office of fetching water; our father treated us
delicately, and a man always fetched water for us, and we always used to
see him pour the water into the gourd with the nozzle turned up, but you
trickily ordered us to turn the nozzle down. Your exactions are
heartless.”
Thus the women kept complaining until, by
and by, the tramp of the returning soldiers was heard, who were boasting
of the great deeds of Keinohoomanawanui. The King, however, said: “I do
not believe a word of your talk; when my cripple comes he will tell me
the truth. I do not believe that Keinohoomanawanui is an athlete. Such
is the opinion I have formed of him. But there is a powerful man,
Kalelealuaka,—if he were to go into battle I am confident he would
perform wonders. Such is the opinion I have formed of him, after careful
study.”
So the King waited for the return of the
cripple until night, and all night until nearly dawn. When finally the
lame marshal arrived, the King prudently abstained from questioning him
until he had rested a while and taken breath; then he obtained from him
the whole story of this new hero from Waialua, whose name he did not
know, but who, he declared, resembled the King’s son-in-law,
Kalelealuaka.
Again, on a certain day, came the report of
an attack by Kualii at Kulaokahua, and the battle was to be on the
morrow. The cripple, as usual, started off the evening before. In the
morning, Kalelealuaka called to his wives, and said: “Where are you?
Wake up. I wish you to bake a fowl for me. Do it thus: Pluck it; do not
cut it open, but remove the inwards through the opening behind; then
stuff it with luau from the same end, and bake it; by no means cut it
open, lest you spoil the taste of it.”
As soon as they had left the house he flew
to Kahuku and adorned his neck with wreaths of the pandanus fruit and
his head with the flowers of the sugar cane, thus entirely changing his
appearance and making him look like a gray-haired old man. As on
previous days, he paused behind the cripple and greeted him with a
friendly slap on the back. Then he kindly lifted the lame man and set
him down at Puowaina. In return for this act of kindness the cripple
gave him the district of Koolau.
In this battle he first slew those soldiers
in Kakuhihewa’s army who had spoken ill of him. Then he turned his hand
against the warriors of Kualii, smiting them as with the stroke of
lightning, and displaying miraculous powers. When he had reached the
captain of Kualii’s force, he killed him and despoiled his body of his
feather cloak and helmet, taking also a little finger and toe. With
these he flew to the cripple, whom he lifted and bore in his flight as
far as Waipio, and there dropped him at a point just below where the
water bursts forth at Waipahu.
Arrived at his house, Kalelealuaka, after
disposing of his spoils, lay down and slept. After he had slept several
hours, his wives came along in none too pleased a mood and awoke him,
saying his meat was cooked. Kalelealuaka merely answered that it was so
late his appetite had gone, and he did not care to eat.
At this slight his wives said: “Well, now,
do you think we are accustomed to work? We ought to live without work,
like a king’s daughters, and when the men have prepared the food then we
should go and eat it.”
The women were still muttering over their
grievance, when along came the soldiers, boasting of the powers of
Keinohoomanawanui, and as they passed Kalelealuaka’s door they said it
were well if the two wives of this fellow, who lounges at home in time
of war, were given to such a brave and noble warrior as
Keinohoomanawanui.
The sun was just sinking below the ocean
when the footsteps of the cripple were heard at the King’s door, which
he entered, sitting down within. After a short time the King asked him
about the battle. “The valor and prowess of this third man were even
greater than those of the previous ones; yet all three resemble each
other. This day, however, he first avenged himself by slaying those who
had spoken ill of him. He killed the captain of Kualii’s army and took
his feather cloak and helmet. On my return he lifted me as far as
Waipahu.”
In a few days again came a report that
Kualii had an army at a place called Kahapaakai, in Nuuanu. Maliuhaaino
immediately marshalled his forces and started for the scene of battle
the same evening.
Early the next morning Kalelealuaka awakened
his wives, and said to them: “Let us breakfast, but do you two eat
quietly in your own house, and I in my house with the dogs; and do not
come until I call you.” So they did, and the two women went and
breakfasted by themselves. At his own house Kalelealuaka ordered Kaluhe
to stir up the dogs and keep them barking until his return. Then he
sprang away and lighted at Kapakakolea, where he overtook the cripple,
whom, after the usual interchange of greetings, he lifted, and set down
at a place called Waolani.
On this day his first action was to smite
and slay those who had reviled him at his own door. That done, he made a
great slaughter among the soldiers of Kualii; then, turning, he seized
Keinohoomanawanui, threw him down and asked him how he became blinded in
one eye.
“It was lost,” said the Sloven, “from the
thrust of a spear, in a combat with Olopana.”
“Yes, to be sure,” said Kalelealuaka, “while
you and I were living together at Wailuku, you being on one side of the
stream and I on the other, a kukui nut burst in the fire, and that was
the spear that put out your eye.”
When the Sloven heard this, he hung his
head. Then Kalelealuaka seized him to put him to death, when the spear
of the Sloven pierced the fleshy part of Kalelealuaka’s left arm, and in
plucking it out the spear-head remained in the wound.
Kalelealuaka killed Keinohoomanawanui and
beheaded him, and, running to the cripple, laid the trophy at his feet
with the words: “I present you, Maliuhaaino, with the head of
Keinohoomanawanui.” This done, he returned to the battle, and went on
slaying until he had advanced to the captain of Kualii’s forces, whom he
killed and spoiled of his feather cloak and helmet.
When Kualii saw that his chief captain, the
bulwark of his power, was slain, he retreated and fled up Nuuanu Valley,
pursued by Kalelealuaka, who overtook him at the head of the valley.
Here Kualii surrendered himself, saying: “Spare my life. The land shall
all go to Kakuhihewa, and I will dwell on it as a loyal subject under
him and create no disturbance as long as I live.”
To this the hero replied: “Well said! I
spare your life on these terms. But if you at any time foment a
rebellion, I will take your life! So, then, return, and live quietly at
home and do not stir up any war in Koolau.” Thus warned, Kaulii set out
to return to the “deep blue palis of Koolau.”
While the lame marshal was trudging
homeward, bearing the head of the Sloven, Kalelealuaka alighted from his
flight at his house, and having disposed in his usual manner of his
spoils, immediately called to his wives to rejoin him at his own house.
“The Deep
Blue Palis of Koolau.”
The next morning, after the sun was warm,
the cripple arrived at the house of the King in a state of great
excitement, and was immediately questioned by him as to the issue of the
battle, “The battle was altogether successful,” said the marshal, “but
Keinohoomanawanui was killed. I brought his head along with me and
placed it on the altar mauka of Kalawao. But I would advise you to send
at once your fleetest runners through Kona and Koolau, commanding
everybody to assemble in one place, that I may review them and pick out
and vaunt as the bravest that one whom I shall recognize by certain
marks—for I have noted him well: he is wounded in the left arm.”
Now, Kakuhihewa’s two swiftest runners (kukini)
were Keakealani and Kuhelemoana. They were so fleet that they could
compass Oahu six times in a forenoon, or twelve times in a whole day.
These two were sent to call together all the men of the King’s domain.
The men of Waianae came that same day and stood in review on the sandy
plains of Puuloa. But among them all was not one who bore the marks
sought for. Then came the men of Kona, [105]of Waialua, and of Koolau,
but the man was not found.
Then the lame marshal came and stood before
the King and said: “Your bones shall rest in peace, Kalani. You had
better send now and summon your son-in-law to come and stand before me;
for he is the man.” Then Kakuhihewa arose and went himself to the house
of his son-in-law, and called to his daughters that he had come to get
their husband to go and stand before Maliuhaaino.
Then Kalelealuaka lifted up the mats of his
bed and took out the feather cloaks and the helmets and arrayed his two
wives, and Kaluhe, and himself. Putting them in line, he stationed the
elder of his wives first, next to her the younger, and third Kaluhe, and
placing himself at the rear of the file, he gave the order to march, and
thus accompanied he went forth to obey the King’s command.
The lame marshal saw them coming, and in
ecstasy he prostrated himself and rolled over in the dust, “The feather
cloak and the helmet on your elder daughter are the ones taken from the
captain of Kualii’s army in the first day’s fight; those on your second
daughter from the captain of the second day’s fight; while those on
Kalelealuaka himself are from the captain killed in the battle on the
fourth day. You will live, but perhaps I shall die, since he is weary of
carrying me.”
The lame marshal went on praising and
eulogizing Kalelealuaka as he drew near. Then addressing the hero, he
said: “I recognize you, having met you before. Now show your left arm to
the King and to this whole assembly, that they may see where you were
wounded by the spear.”
Then Kalelealuaka bared his left arm and
displayed his wound to the astonished multitude. Thereupon Kakuhihewa
said: “Kalelealuaka and my daughters, do you take charge of the kingdom,
and I will pass into the ranks of the common people under you.”
After this a new arrangement of the lands
was made, and the country had peace until the death of Kakuhihewa;
Kalelealuaka also lived peacefully until death took him.
Back to Contents
Hawaii
the Original Home of the Brownies, Thos. G. Thrum
Students of Hawaiian folk-lore find much of
coincident interest with traditional or more historic beliefs of other
and older lands. The same applies, in a measure, to some of the ancient
customs of the people. This is difficult to account for, more especially
since the Hawaiians possessed no written language by which such
knowledge could be preserved or transmitted. Fornander and others
discovered in the legends of this people traces of the story of the
Flood, the standing still of the sun, and other narratives of Bible
history, which some savants accept as evidence of their Aryan origin.
This claim we are not disposed to dispute, but desire to present another
line of tradition that has been neglected hitherto, yet has promise of
much interest.
It will doubtless interest some readers to
learn that Hawaii is the real home of the Brownies, or was; and that
this adventurous nomadic tribe were known to the Hawaiians long before
Swift’s satirical mind conceived his Lilliputians.
It would be unreasonable to expect so great
a range of nationalities and peculiar characteristics among the pygmies
of Hawaii as among the Brownies of story. Tradition naturally represents
them as of one race, and all nimble workers; not a gentleman dude, or
policeman in the whole lot. Unlike the inquisitive and mischievous
athletes of present fame, the original and genuine Brownies, known as
the Menehunes, are referred to as an industrious race. In fact, it was
their alleged power to perform a marvellous amount of labor in a short
space of time that has fixed them in the minds of Hawaiians, many of
whom point to certain traces of their work in various parts of the
islands to substantiate the traditional claim of their existence.
Meeting thus with occasional references to
this active race, but mostly in a vague way, it has been a matter of
interesting inquiry among Hawaiians, some of whom were noted kaao, or
legend-bearers, for further knowledge on the subject. Very naturally
their ideas differ respecting the Menehunes. Some treat the subject with
gravity and respect, and express the belief that they were the original
inhabitants of these islands, but gradually gave way to the
heavier-bodied ancestors of the present race; others consider that the
history of the race has been forgotten through the lapse of ages; while
the more intelligent and better educated look upon the Menehunes as a
mythical class of gnomes or dwarfs, and the account of their exploits as
having been handed down by tradition for social entertainment, as other
peoples relate fairy stories.
In the Hawaiian legend of Kumuhonua,
Fornander states that the Polynesians were designated as “the
[109]people, descendants from Menehune, son of Lua Nuu, etc. It
disappeared as a national name so long ago, however, that subsequent
legends have changed it to a term of reproach, representing them at
times as a separate race, and sometimes as a race of dwarfs, skilful
laborers, but artful and cunning.”
In the following account and selection of
stories gathered from various native sources, as literal a rendition as
possible has been observed by the translators for the better insight it
gives of Hawaiian thought and character.
Moke Manu’s Account
The Menehunes were supposed to have been a
wonderful people, small of stature and of great activity. They were
always united in doing any service required of them. It was their rule
that any work undertaken must be completed in one night, otherwise it
would be left unfinished, as they did not labor twice on the same work;
hence the origin of the saying: “He po hookahi, a ao ua pau,”—in one
night, and by dawn it is finished.
There is no reliable history of the
Menehunes. No one knows whence they came, though tradition says they
were the original people of the Hawaiian Islands. They are thought to
have been supernatural beings, governed by some one higher in rank than
themselves, whom they recognized as having power and authority over
them, that assigned them to the mountains and hills where they lived
permanently. They were said to be the only inhabitants of the islands up
to the time [110]of Papa and Wakea, and were invisible to every one but
their own descendants, or those connected with them in some way. Many
persons could hear the noise and hum of their voices, but the gift of
seeing them with the naked eye was denied to those not akin to them.
They were always willing to do the bidding of their descendants, and
their supernatural powers enabled them to perform some wonderful works.
Pi’s Watercourse
Pi was an ordinary man living in Waimea,
Kauai, who wanted to construct a mano, or dam, across the Waimea River
and a watercourse therefrom to a point near Kikiaola. Having settled
upon the best locations for his proposed work, he went up to the
mountains and ordered all the Menehunes that were living near Puukapele
to prepare stones for the dam and watercourse. The Menehunes were
portioned off for the work; some to gather stones, and others to cut
them. All the material was ready in no time (manawa ole), and Pi settled
upon the night when the work was to be done. When the time came he went
to the point where the dam was to be built, and waited. At the dead of
night he heard the noise and hum of the voices of the Menehunes on their
way to Kikiaola, each of whom was carrying a stone. The dam was duly
constructed, every stone fitting in its proper place, and the stone
auwai, or watercourse, also laid around the bend of Kikiaola. Before the
break of day the work was completed, and the water of the Waimea River
was turned by the dam into the watercourse on the flat lands of Waimea.
When the work was finished Pi served out
food for the Menehunes, which consisted of shrimps (opae), this being
the only kind to be had in sufficient quantity to supply each with a
fish to himself. They were well supplied and satisfied, and at dawn
returned to the mountains of Puukapele rejoicing, and the hum of their
voices gave rise to the saying, “Wawa ka Menehune i Puukapele, ma Kauai,
puoho ka manu o ka loko o Kawainui ma Koolaupoko, Oahu”—the hum of the
voices of the Menehunes at Puukapele, Kauai, startled the birds of the
pond of Kawainui, at Koolaupoko Oahu.
The auwai, or watercourse, of Pi is still to
be seen at Kikiaola.
At one time Pi also told the Menehunes to
wall in a fish-pond at the bend of the Huleia River. They commenced work
toward midnight, but at dawn the walls of the pond were not sufficiently
finished to meet, so it was left incomplete, and has remained so to this
day.
Laka’s Adventure
Wahieloa, a chief, lived at Kalaikoi,
Kipahulu, Maui. He took to him a wife named Hinahawea. In due time a boy
was born to them, whom Hinahowana, the mother of Hinahawea, brought up
under her own care at Alaenui. She called him Laka-a-wahieloa. He was
greatly petted by his parents. One day his father went to Hawaii in
search of the Ala-Koiula a Kane for a toy for his son, landing at
Punaluu, Kau, Hawaii, where he was killed in a cave called
Keana-a-Kaualehu.
After a long absence Laka asked for his
father, and his mother referred him to his grandmother, who, on being
questioned, told him that his father went to Hawaii, and was supposed to
be dead. Laka then asked for means by which he could search for his
father.
His grandmother replied: “Go to the
mountains and look for the tree that has leaves shaped like the moon on
the night of Hilo, or Hoaka; such is the tree for a canoe.”
This was the commencement of the lifting of
the canoe. It was not dragged, but held up by hand. The second hum of
voices brought the canoe to Haloamekiei, at Pueo. And at the third hum
the canoe was carefully laid down in the halau. Food and fish were there
spread out for the workers, the ha of the taro for food, and the opae
and oopu for fish. At dawn the Menehunes returned to their home.
Kuahalau was the name of the halau, the remains of the foundation of
which were to be seen a few years ago, but now it is ploughed over. The
hole dug by Laka still exists.
Kekupua’s Canoe
Kakae, a chief, lived at Wahiawa, Kukaniloko,
Waialua, Oahu. One day his wife told him that she desired to go in
search of her brother, Kahanaiakeakua, who was supposed to be living at
Tahiti. Kakae thereupon ordered his man Kekupua to go into the woods and
find a suitable tree and make a canoe for his wife for this foreign
voyage. Kekupua, with a number of men under him, searched in the forest
belt of Wahiawa, Helemano, and Waoala, as also through the woods of
Koolau, without success. From Kahana they made a search through the
mountains till they came to Kilohana, in Kalihi Valley, and from there
to Waolani, in Nuuanu, where they slept in a cave. In the dead of night
they heard the hum as of human voices, but were unable to discern any
person, though the voices sounded close to them. At dawn silence reigned
again, and when the sun arose, lo, and behold! there stood a large mound
of stones, the setting of which resembled that of a heiau, or temple,
the remains of which are said to be noticeable to this day.
Kekupua and his men returned to their chief
and reported their unsuccessful search for a suitable koa (Acacia koa)
tree for the desired canoe, and related also the incident at Waolani.
Kakae, being a descendant of the Menehunes, knew immediately the authors
of the strange occurrence. He therefore instructed Kekupua to proceed to
Makaho and Kamakela and to stay there till the night of Kane, then go up
to Puunui and wait till hearing the hum and noise of the Menehunes,
which would be the signal of their finishing the canoe. And thus it was;
the Menehunes, having finished the canoe, were ready to pull it to the
sea. He directed them to look sharp, and two men would be noticed
holding the ropes at the pu (or head) of the canoe. One of them would
leap from one side to the other; he was the director of the work and was
called pale. There would be some men farther behind, holding the
kawelewele, or guiding-ropes. They were the kahunas that superintended
the construction of the canoe. He reminded them to remember these
directions, and when they saw these men, to give them orders and show
them the course to take in pulling the canoe to the sea.
Kekupua followed all these instructions
faithfully. He waited at Puunui till dusk, when he heard a hum as of
many voices, and proceeding farther up near the slope of Alewa he saw
these wonderful people. They were like ordinary human beings but
diminutive. He directed them to pull the canoe along the nae, or farther
side of the Puunui stream. By this course the canoe was brought down as
far as Kaalaa, near Waikahalulu, where, when daylight came, they left
their burden and returned to Waolani. The canoe was left in the ditch,
where it remained for many generations, and was called Kawa-a-Kekupua (Kekupua’s
canoe), in honor of the servant of the chief Kakae.
Thus, even with the help of the Menehunes,
the wife of Kakae was not satisfied in her desire.
As Heiau Builders
The Menehunes are credited with the
construction of numerous heiaus (ancient temples) in various parts of
the islands.
The heiau of Mookini, near Honoipu, Kohala,
is pointed out as an instance of their marvellous work. The place
selected for the site of the temple was on a grassy plain. The stones in
the nearest neighborhood were for some reason not deemed suitable for
the work, so those of Pololu Valley, distant some twelve miles, were
selected. Tradition says the Menehunes were placed in a line covering
the entire distance from Pololu to Honoipu, whereby the stones were
passed from hand to hand for the entire work. Work was begun at the
quiet of night, and at cock-crow in the morning it was finished. Thus in
one night the heiau of Mookini was built.
Another temple of their erection was at
Pepeekeo, Hilo, the peculiarity of the work being that the stones had
been brought together by the residents of that part of the district, by
direction of the chief, but that in one night, the Menehunes gathered
together and built it. The chief and his people were surprised on coming
the next morning to resume their labors, to find the heiau completed.
There stands on the pali of Waikolu, near
Kalaupapa, Molokai, a heiau that Hawaiians believe to have been
constructed by no one else than the Menehunes. It is on the top of a
ledge in the face of a perpendicular cliff, with a continuous
inaccessible cliff behind it reaching hundreds of feet above. No one has
ever been able to reach it either from above or from below; and the
marvel is how the material, which appears to be seashore stones, was put
in place.
O the four thousand gods,
The forty thousand gods,
The four hundred thousand gods,
The file of gods,
The assembly of gods!
O gods of these woods,
Of the mountain,
And the knoll,
At the water-dam,
Oh, come!
Back to Contents
Laka followed this advice, and went to the
mountains to find the tree for his canoe. Finding a suitable one, he
commenced to cut in the morning, and by sundown he had felled it to the
ground. This accomplished, he went home. Returning the next day, to his
surprise he could not find his fallen tree, so he cut down another, with
the same result. Laka was thus tricked for several days, and in his
perplexity consulted again with his grandmother, who sent him off with
the same advice as before, to look for the crescent-shaped leaf.
He went to the mountains again and found the
desired tree, but before cutting it he dug a big hole on the side where
the Kalala-Kamahele would fall. Upon cutting the tree it fell right into
the hole or trench, as designed; then he jumped into it and lay in
waiting for the person or persons who were reërecting the trees he had
cut down for his canoe.
While thus waiting, he heard some one
talking about raising the tree and returning it to its former position,
followed by someone chanting as follows:
E ka mano o ke Akua,
Ke kini o ke Akua,
Ka lehu o ke Akua,
Ka lalani Akua,
Ka pukui Akua!
E na Akua o ke kuahiwi nei,
I ka mauna,
I ke kualono,
I ka manowai la-e,
E-iho!1
When this appeal ended there was a hum and
noise, and in a short time (manawa ole) the place was filled with a band
of people, who endeavored to lift the tree; but it would not move. Laka
then jumped out from his place of hiding and caught hold of two of the
men, Mokuhalii and Kapaaikee, and threatened to kill them for raising
again the trees he had cut for his canoe. Mokuhalii then told Laka that
if they were killed, nobody would be able to make a canoe for him, nor
would anybody pull it to the beach, but if they were spared they would
willingly do it for him, provided Laka would first build a big and long
shed (halau) of sufficient size to hold the canoe, and prepare
sufficient food for the men. Laka gladly consenting, released them and
returned to his home and built a shed on the level ground of Puhikau.
Then he went up to the woods and saw the canoe, ready and complete. The
Menehunes told Laka that it would be brought to the halau that night. At
the dead of night the hum of the voices of the MenehuneMrs. E. M.
Nakuina
Akaaka (laughter) is a projecting spur of
the mountain range at the head of Manoa Valley, forming the ridge
running back to and above Waiakeakua, “the water of the gods.” Akaaka
was united in marriage to Nalehuaakaaka, still represented by some lehua
(Metrosideros polymorpha) bushes on the very brow of the spur or ridge.
They had two children, twins, Kahaukani, a boy, and Kauakuahine, a girl.
These children were adopted at birth by a chief, Kolowahi, and
chieftainess, Pohakukala, who were brother and sister, and cousins of
Akaaka. The brother took charge of the boy, Kahaukani, a synonyme for
the Manoa wind; and Pohakukala the girl, Kauakuahine, meaning the famous
Manoa rain. When the children were grown up, the foster parents
determined that they should be united; and the children, having been
brought up separately and in ignorance of their relationship, made no
objections. They were accordingly married and a girl was born to them,
who was called Kahalaopuna. Thus Kolowahi and Pohakukala, by conspiring
to unite the twin brother and sister, made permanent the union of rain
and wind for which Manoa Valley is noted; and the fruit of such a union
was the most beautiful woman of her time. So the Manoa girls, foster
children of the Manoa rains and winds, have generally been supposed to
have inherited the beauty of Kahalaopuna.
A house was built for Kahalaopuna at
Kahaiamano on the road to Waiakekua, where she lived with a few
attendants. The house was surrounded by a fence of auki (dracæna), and a
puloulou (sign of kapu) was placed on each side of the gate, indicative
of forbidden ground. The puloulou were short, stout poles, each
surmounted by a ball of white kapa cloth, and indicated that the person
or persons inhabiting the premises so defined were of the highest rank,
and sacred.
Kahalaopuna was very beautiful from her
earliest childhood. Her cheeks were so red and her face so bright that a
glow emanated therefrom which shone through the thatch of her house when
she was in; a rosy light seemed to envelop the house, and bright rays
seemed to play over it constantly. When she went to bathe in the spring
below her house, the rays of light surrounded her like a halo. The
natives maintain that this bright light is still occasionally seen at
Kahaiamano, indicating that the spirit of Kahalaopuna is revisiting her
old home.
She was betrothed in childhood to Kauhi, the
young chief of Kailua, in Koolau, whose parents were so sensible of the
honor of the contemplated union of their son with the Princess of Manoa,
who was deemed of a semi-supernatural descent, that they always sent the
poi of Kailua and the fish of Kawainui for the girl’s table. She was
thus, as it were, brought up entirely on the food of her prospective
husband.
View
at the Head of
Manoa
Valley,
Oahu.
When she was grown to young womanhood, she
was so exquisitely beautiful that the people of the valley would make
visits to the outer puloulou at the sacred precinct of Luaalea, the land
adjoining Kahaiamano, just to get a glimpse of the beauty as she went to
and from the spring. In this way the fame of her surpassing loveliness
was spread all over the valley, and came to the ears of two men, Kumauna
and Keawaa, both of whom were disfigured by a contraction of the lower
eyelids, and were known as makahelei (drawn eyes). Neither of these men
had ever seen Kahalaopuna, but they fell in love with her from hear-say,
and not daring to present themselves to her as suitors on account of
their disfigurement, they would weave and deck themselves leis (wreaths)
of maile (Alyxia olivæformis), ginger, and ferns and go to Waikiki for
surf-bathing. While there they would indulge in boasting of their
conquest of the famous beauty, representing the leis with which they
were decked as love-gifts from Kahalaopuna. Now, when the surf of
Kalehuawehe at Waikiki was in proper condition, it would attract people
from all parts of the island to enjoy the delightful sport. Kauhi, the
betrothed of Kahalaopuna, was one of these. The time set for his
marriage to Kahalaopuna was drawing near, and as yet he had not seen
her, when the assertions of the two makahelei men came to his ears.
These were repeated so frequently that Kauhi finally came to believe
them, and they so filled him with jealous rage of his betrothed that he
determined to kill her. He started for Manoa at dawn, and proceeded as
far as Mahinauli, in mid-valley, where he rested under a hala (Pandanus
odoratissimus) tree that grew in the grove of wiliwili (Erythrina
monosperma). He sat there some time, brooding over the fancied injury to
himself, and nursing his wrath. Upon resuming his walk he broke off and
carried along with him a bunch of hala nuts. It was quite noon when he
reached Kahaiamano and presented himself before the house of Kahalaopuna.
The latter had just awakened from a sleep, and was lying on a pile of
mats facing the door, thinking of going to the spring, her usual
bathing-place, when she perceived a stranger at the door.
She looked at him some time and, recognizing
him from oft repeated descriptions, asked him to enter; but Kauhi
refused, and asked her to come outside. The young girl had been so
accustomed from early childhood to consider herself as belonging to
Kauhi, and of being indebted to him, as it were, for her daily food,
that she obeyed him unhesitatingly.
He perhaps intended to kill her then, but
the girl’s unhesitating obedience as well as her extreme loveliness made
him hesitate for a while; and after looking intently at her for some
time he told her to go and bathe and then prepare herself to accompany
him in a ramble about the woods.
While Kahalaopuna was bathing, Kauhi
remained moodily seated where she had left him, and watched the bright
glow, like rainbow rays, playing above the spring. He was alternately
filled with jealousy, regret, and longing for the great beauty of the
girl; but that did not make him relent in his dreadful purpose. He
seemed to resent his betrothed’s supposed infidelity the more because
she had thrown herself away on such unworthy persons, who were, besides,
ugly and disfigured, while he, Kauhi, was not only a person of rank and
distinction, but possessed also of considerable manly beauty.
When she was ready he motioned her to follow
him, and turned to go without a word. They went across Kumakaha to
Hualea, when the girl said, “Why don’t you stay and have something to
eat before we go?”
He answered rather surlily, “I don’t care to
eat; I have no appetite.”
He looked so sternly at her as he said this
that she cried out to him, “Are you annoyed with me? Have I displeased
you in any way?”
He only said, “Why, what have you done that
would displease me?”
He kept on his way, she following, till they
came to a large stone in Aihualama, when he turned abruptly and, facing
the young girl, looked at her with an expression of mingled longing and
hate. At last, with a deep sigh, he said, “You are beautiful, my
betrothed, but, as you have been false, you must die.”
The young girl looked up in surprise at
these strange words, but saw only hatred and a deadly purpose in Kauhi’s
eyes; so she said: “If I have to die, why did you not kill me at home,
so that my people could have buried my bones; but you brought me to the
wild woods, and who will bury me? If you think I have been false to you,
why not seek proof before believing it?”
But Kauhi would not listen to her appeal.
Perhaps it only served to remind him of what he considered was his great
loss. He struck her across the temple with the heavy bunch of hala nuts
he had broken off at Mahinauli, and which he had been holding all the
time. The blow killed the girl instantly, and Kauhi hastily dug a hole
under the side of the rock and buried her; then he started down the
valley toward Waikiki.
As soon as he was gone, a large owl, who was
a god, and a relative of Kahalaopuna, and had followed her from home,
immediately set to digging the body out; which done, it brushed the dirt
carefully off with its wings and, breathing into the girl’s nostrils,
restored her to life. It rubbed its face against the bruise on the
temple, and healed it immediately. Kauhi had not advanced very far on
his way when he heard the voice of Kahalaopuna singing a lament for his
unkindness, and beseeching him to believe her, or, at least, prove his
accusation.
Hearing her voice, Kauhi returned, and,
seeing the owl flying above her, recognized the means of her
resurrection; and, going up to the girl, ordered her to follow him. They
went up the side of the ridge which divides Manoa Valley from Nuuanu. It
was hard work for the tenderly nurtured maiden to climb the steep
mountain ridge, at one time through a thorny tangle of underbrush, and
at another clinging against the bare face of the rocks, holding on to
swinging vines for support. Kauhi never offered to assist her, but kept
on ahead, only looking back occasionally to see that she followed. When
they arrived at the summit of the divide she was all scratched and
bruised, and her pa-u (skirt) in tatters. Seating herself on a stone to
regain her breath, she asked Kauhi where they were going. He never
answered, but struck her again with the hala branch, killing her
instantly, as before. He then dug a hole near where she lay, and buried
her, and started for Waikiki by way of the Kakea ridge. He was no sooner
out of sight than the owl again scratched the dirt away and restored the
girl, as before. Again she followed and sang a song of love and regret
for her lover’s anger, and pleaded with him to lay aside his unjust
suspicions. On hearing her voice again, Kauhi returned and ordered her
to follow him. They descended into Nuuanu Valley, at Kaniakapupu, and
crossed over to Waolani ridge, where he again killed and buried the
faithful girl, who was again restored by the owl. When he was on his way
back, as before, she sang a song, describing the perils and difficulties
of the way traversed by them, and ended by pleading for pardon for the
unknown fault. The wretched man, on hearing her voice again, was very
angry; and his repeated acts of cruelty and the suffering endured by the
girl, far from softening his heart, only served to render him more
brutal, and to extinguish what little spark of kindly feeling he might
have had originally. His only thought was to kill her for good, and thus
obtain some satisfaction for his wasted poi and fish. He returned to her
and ordered her, as before, to follow him, and started for Kilohana, at
the head of Kalihi Valley, where he again killed her. She was again
restored by the owl, and made her resurrection known by singing to her
cruel lover. He this time took her across gulches, ravines, and plains,
until they arrived at Pohakea, on the Ewa slope of the Kaala Mountains,
where he killed her and buried her under a large koa (Acacia koa). The
faithful owl tried to scrape the dirt away, so as to get at the body of
the girl, but his claws became entangled in the numerous roots and
rootlets which Kauhi had been careful not to cut away. The more the owl
scratched, the more deeply tangled he got, and, finally, with bruised
claws and ruffled feathers, he had to give up the idea of rescuing the
girl; and perhaps he thought it useless, as she would be sure to make
her resurrection known to Kauhi. So the owl left, and followed Kauhi on
his return to Waikiki.
There had been another witness to Kauhi’s
cruelties, and that was Elepaio (Chasiempis sandwichensis), a little
green bird, a cousin to Kahalaopuna. As soon as this bird saw that the
owl had deserted the body of Kahalaopuna, it flew straight to Kahaukani
and Kauakuahine, and told them of all that had happened. The girl had
been missed, but, as some of the servants had recognized Kauhi, and had
seen them leave together for what they supposed was a ramble in the
adjoining woods, no great anxiety had been felt, as yet. But when the
little bird told his tale, there was great consternation, and even
positive disbelief; for, how could any one in his senses, they argued,
be guilty of such cruelty to such a lovely, innocent being, and one,
too, belonging entirely to himself.
In the meantime, the spirit of the murdered
girl discovered itself to a party who were passing by; and one of them,
a young man, moved with compassion, went to the tree indicated by the
spirit, and, removing the dirt and roots, found the body, still warm. He
wrapped it in his kihei (shoulder scarf), and then covered it entirely
with maile, ferns, and ginger, and, making a haawe, or back-load, of it,
carried it to his home at Kamoiliili. There, he submitted the body to
his elder brother, who called upon two spirit sisters of theirs, with
whose aid they finally succeeded in restoring it to life. In the course
of the treatment she was frequently taken to an underground water-cave,
called Mauoki, for the Kakelekele (hydropathic cure). The water-cave has
ever since been known as the “Water of Kahalaopuna.”
The young man who had rescued her from the
grave naturally wanted her to become his bride; but the girl refused,
saying that as long as Kauhi lived she was his, and none other’s, as her
very body was, as it were, nourished on his food, and was as much his
property as the food had been.
The elder brother then counselled the
younger to seek, in some way, the death of Kauhi. To this end they
conspired with the parents of Kahalaopuna to keep her last resurrection
secret. The young man then set to work to learn all the meles
Kahalaopuna had sung to her lover during that fatal journey. When he
knew these songs well, he sought the kilu (play, or game) houses of the
King and high chiefs, where Kauhi was sure to be found.
One day, when Kauhi was playing, this young
man placed himself on the opposite side, and as Kauhi ceased, took up
the kilu and chanted the first of Kahalaopuna’s meles.
Kauhi was very much surprised, and contrary
to the etiquette of the game of kilu, stopped him in his play to ask him
where he had learned that song. The young man answered he had learned it
from Kahalaopuna, the famous Manoa beauty, who was a friend of his
sister’s and who was now on a visit at their house. Kauhi, knowing the
owl had deserted the body of the girl, felt certain that she was really
dead, and accused the other of telling a lie. This led to an angry and
stormy scene, when the antagonists were parted by orders of the King.
The next night found them both at the kilu
house, when the second of Kahalaopuna’s songs was sung, and another
angry discussion took place. Again they were separated by others. On the
third night, the third song having been sung, the dispute between the
young men became so violent that Kauhi told the young man that the
Kahalaopuna he knew must be an impostor, as the real person of that name
was dead, to his certain knowledge. He dared him to produce the young
woman whom he had been representing as Kahalaopuna; and should she not
prove to be the [128]genuine one then his life should be the forfeit,
and on the other hand, if it should be the real one, then he, Kauhi,
should be declared the liar and pay for his insults to the other with
his life.
This was just what the young man had been
scheming to compass, and he quickly assented to the challenge, calling
on the King and chiefs to take notice of the terms of agreement, and to
see that they were enforced.
On the appointed day Kahalaopuna went to
Waikiki, attended by her parents, relatives, servants, and the two
spirit sisters, who had assumed human form for that day so as to
accompany their friend and advise her in case of necessity. Akaaka, the
grandfather, who had been residing in Waikiki some little time previous
to the dispute between the young men, was appointed one of the judges at
the approaching trial.
Kauhi had consulted the priests and
sorcerers of his family as to the possibility of the murdered girl
having assumed human shape for the purpose of working him some injury.
Kaea, a famous priest and seer of his family, told him to have the large
leaves of the a-pe (Calladium costatum) spread where Kahalaopuna and
party were to be seated. If she was a spirit, she would not be able to
tear the a-pe leaf on which she would be seated, but if human, the leaf
or leaves would be torn. With the permission of the King, this was done.
The latter, surrounded by the highest chiefs and a vast assemblage from
all parts of the island, was there to witness the test.
When Kahalaopuna and party were on the road
to the scene of the test, her spirit friends informed her of the a-pe
leaves, and advised her to trample on them so as to tear them as much as
possible, as they, being spirits, would be unable to tear the leaves on
which they should be seated, and if any one’s attention were drawn to
them, they would be found out and killed by the poe po-i uhane (spirit
catchers).
The young girl faithfully performed what was
required of her. Kaea, on seeing the torn leaves, remarked that she was
evidently human, but that he felt the presence of spirits, and would
watch for them, feeling sure they were in some way connected with the
girl. Akaaka then told him to look in a calabash of water, when he would
in all probability see the spirits. The seer, in his eagerness to
unravel the mystery, forgot his usual caution and ordered a vessel of
water to be brought, and, looking in, he saw only his own reflection.
Akaaka at that moment caught the reflection of the seer (which was his
spirit), and crushed it between his palms, and at that moment the seer
dropped down dead. Akaaka now turned around and opened his arms and
embraced Kahalaopuna, thus acknowledging her as his own beloved
granddaughter.
The King now demanded of the girl and of
Kauhi an account of all that had happened between them, and of the
reported death of the maiden. They both told their stories, Kauhi
ascribing his anger to hearing the assertions of the two disfigured men,
Kumauna and Keawaa. These two, on being confronted with the girl,
acknowledged never having seen her before, and that all their words had
been idle boastings. The King then said: “As your fun has cost this
innocent girl so much suffering, it is my will that you two and Kauhi
suffer death at once, as a matter of justice; and if your gods are
powerful enough to restore you, so much the better for you.”
Two large imus (ground ovens) had been
heated by the followers of the young men, in anticipation of the
possible fate of either, and Kauhi, with the two mischief-makers and
such of their respective followers and retainers as preferred to die
with their chiefs, were baked therein.
The greater number of Kauhi’s people were so
incensed with his cruelty to the lovely young girl that they transferred
their allegiance to her, offering themselves for her vassals as
restitution, in a measure, for the undeserved sufferings borne by her at
the hands of their cruel chief.
The King gave her for a bride to the young
man who had not only saved her, but had been the means of avenging her
wrongs.
The
Favorite Sport of Surf-Riding.
The imus in which Kauhi and his companions
were baked were on the side of the stream of Apuakehau, in the famous
Ulukou grove, and very near the sea. The night following, a great tidal
wave, sent in by a powerful old shark god, a relative of Kauhi’s, swept
over the site of the two ovens, and in the morning it was seen that
their contents had disappeared. The bones had been taken by the old
shark into the sea. The chiefs, Kumauna and Keawaa, were, through the
power of their family gods, transformed into the two mountain peaks on
the eastern corner of Manoa Valley, while Kauhi and his followers were
turned into sharks.
Kahalaopuna lived happily with her husband
for about two years. Her grandfather, knowing of Kauhi’s transformation,
and aware of his vindictive nature, strictly forbade her from ever going
into the sea. She remembered and heeded the warning during those years,
but one day, her husband and all their men having gone to Manoa to
cultivate kalo (Colocasia antiquorum), she was left alone with her maid
servants.
The surf on that day was in fine sporting
condition, and a number of young women were surf-riding, and Kahalaopuna
longed to be with them. Forgetting the warning, as soon as her mother
fell asleep she slipped out with one of her maids and swam out on a
surf-board. This was Kauhi’s opportunity, and as soon as she was fairly
outside the reef he bit her in two and held the upper half of the body
up out of the water, so that all the surf-bathers would see and know
that he had at last obtained his revenge.
Immediately on her death the spirit of the
young woman went back and told her sleeping mother of what had befallen
her. The latter woke up, and, missing her, gave the alarm. This was soon
confirmed by the terrified surf-bathers, who had all fled ashore at
seeing the terrible fate of Kahalaopuna. Canoes were launched and
manned, and chase given to the shark and his prey, which could be easily
tracked by the blood.
He swam just far enough below the surface of
the water to be visible, and yet too far to be reached with effect by
the fishing-spears of the pursuers. He led them a long chase to Waianae;
then, in a sandy opening in the bottom of the sea, where everything was
visible to the pursuers, he ate up the young woman, so that she could
never again be restored to this life.
Her parents, on hearing of her end, retired
to Manoa Valley, and gave up their human life, resolving themselves into
their supernatural elements. Kahaukani, the father, is known as the
Manoa wind, but his usual and visible form is the grove of ha-u
(hibiscus) trees, below Kahaiamano. Kauakuahine, the mother, assumed her
rain form, and is very often to be met with about the former home of her
beloved child.
The grandparents also gave up their human
forms, and returned, the one to his mountain form, and the other into
the lehua bushes still to be met with on the very brow of the hill,
where they keep watch over the old home of their petted and adored
grandchild. Back to Contents
Ahuula, A Legend of
Kanikaniaula and the First Feather Cloak, Mrs. E. M. Nakuina
Eleio was a kukini (trained runner) in the
service of Kakaalaneo, King of Maui, several runners being always kept
by each king or alii of consequence. These kukinis, when sent on any
errand, always took a direct line for their destination, climbing hills
with the agility of goats, jumping over rocks and streams, and leaping
from precipices. They were so fleet of foot that the common illustration
of the fact among the natives was the saying that when a kukini was sent
on an errand that would ordinarily take a day and a night, fish wrapped
in ki leaves (known as lawalu), if put on the fire on his starting,
would not be cooked sufficiently to be turned before he would be back.
Being so serviceable to the aliis, kukinis always enjoyed a high degree
of consideration, freedom, and immunity from the strict etiquette and
unwritten laws of a Hawaiian court. There was hardly anything so
valuable in their master’s possession that they could not have it if
they wished.
Eleio was sent to Hana to fetch awa for the
King, and was expected to be back in time for the King’s supper.
Kakaalaneo was then living at Lahaina. Now, Eleio was not only a kukini,
but he was also a kahuna, and had been initiated in the ceremonies and
observances by which he was enabled to see spirits or wraiths, and was
skilled in medicines, charms, etc., and could return a wandering spirit
to its body unless decomposition had set in.
Soon after leaving Olowalu, and as he
commenced the ascent of Aalaloloa, he saw a beautiful young woman ahead
of him. He naturally hastened his steps, intending to overtake such a
charming fellow-traveller; but, do what he would, she kept always just
so far ahead of him. Being the fleetest and most renowned kukini of his
time, it roused his professional pride to be outrun by a woman, even if
only for a short distance; so he was determined to catch her, and he
gave himself entirely to that effort. The young woman led him a weary
chase over rocks, hills, mountains, deep ravines, precipices, and dark
streams, till they came to the Lae (cape) of Hanamanuloa at Kahikinui,
beyond Kaupo, when he caught her just at the entrance to a puoa. A puoa
was a kind of tower, generally of bamboo, with a platform half-way up,
on which the dead bodies of persons of distinction belonging to certain
families or classes were exposed to the elements.
When Eleio caught the young woman she turned
to him and cried: “Let me live! I am not human, but a spirit, and inside
this inclosure is my dwelling.”
He answered: “I have been aware for some
time of your being a spirit. No human being could have so outrun me.”
She then said: “Let us be friends. In yonder
house live my parents and relatives. Go to them and ask for a hog, kapas,
some fine mats, and a feather cloak. Describe me to them and tell them
that I give all those things to you. The feather cloak is unfinished. It
is now only a fathom and a half square, and was intended to be two
fathoms. There are enough feathers and netting in the house to finish
it. Tell them to finish it for you.” The spirit then disappeared.
Eleio entered the puoa, climbed on to the
platform, and saw the dead body of the girl. She was in every way as
beautiful as the spirit had appeared to him, and apparently
decomposition had not yet set in. He left the puoa and hurried to the
house pointed out by the spirit as that of her friends, and saw a woman
wailing, whom, from the resemblance, he at once knew to be the mother of
the girl; so he saluted her with an aloha. He then said: “I am a
stranger here, but I had a travelling companion who guided me to yonder
puoa and then disappeared.” At these strange words the woman stopped
wailing and called to her husband, to whom she repeated what the
stranger had said. The latter then asked: “Does this house belong to
you?”
Husband and wife, wondering, answered at
once: “It does.”
“Then,” said Eleio, “my message is to you.
My travelling companion has a hog a fathom in length in your care; also
a pile of fine kapas of Paiula and others of fine quality; also a pile
of mats and an unfinished feather cloak, now a fathom and a half in
length, which you are to finish, the materials being in the house. All
these things she has given to me, and sent me to you for them.” Then he
began to describe the young woman. Both parents recognized the
truthfulness of the description, and willingly agreed to give up the
things which their beloved daughter must have herself given away. But
when they spoke of killing the hog and making an ahaaina (feast) for
him, whom they had immediately resolved to adopt as a son, he said:
“Wait a little and let me ask: Are all these people I see around this
place your friends?”
They both answered: “They are our
relatives—uncles, aunts, and cousins to the spirit, who seems to have
adopted you either as husband or brother.”
“Will they do your bidding in everything?”
he asked.
Hawaiian
Arrayed in Feather Cloak and Helmet, armed with weapons.
They answered that they could be relied
upon. He directed them to build a large lanai, or arbor, to be entirely
covered with ferns, ginger, maile, and ieie—the sweet and odorous
foliage greens of the islands. An altar was to be erected at one end of
the lanai and appropriately decorated. The order was willingly carried
out, men, women, and children working with a will, so that the whole
structure was finished in a couple of hours.
Eleio now directed the hog to be cooked. He
also ordered cooked red and white fish, red, white, and black cocks, and
bananas of the lele and maoli varieties, to be placed on the altar. He
ordered all women and children to enter their houses and to assist him
with their prayers; all pigs, chickens, and dogs to be tied in dark huts
to keep them quiet, and that the most profound silence should be kept.
The men at work were asked to remember their gods, and to invoke their
assistance for Eleio. He then started for Hana, pulled up a couple of
bushes of awa of Kaeleku, famous for its medicinal properties, and was
back again before the hog was cooked. The awa was prepared, and when the
preparations for the feast were complete and set out, he offered
everything to his gods and begged assistance in what he was about to
perform.
It seems the spirit of the girl had been
lingering near him all the time, seeming to be attached to him, but of
course invisible to every one. When Eleio had finished his invocation he
turned and caught the spirit, and, holding his breath and invoking the
gods, he hurried to the puoa, followed by the parents, who now began to
understand that he was going to try the kapuku (or restoration to life
of the dead) on their daughter. Arriving at the puoa, he placed the
spirit against the insteps of the girl and pressed it firmly in,
meanwhile continuing his invocation. The spirit entered its former
tenement kindly enough until it came to the knees, when it refused to go
any further, as from there it could perceive that the stomach was
beginning to decompose, and it did not want to be exposed to the
pollution of decaying matter. But Eleio, by the strength of his prayers,
was enabled to push the spirit up past the knees till it came to the
[152]thigh bones, when the refractory spirit again refused to proceed.
He had to put additional fervor into his prayers to overcome the
spirit’s resistance, and it proceeded up to the throat, when there was
some further check; by this time the father, mother, and male relatives
were all grouped around anxiously watching the operation, and they all
added the strength of their petitions to those of Eleio, which enabled
him to push the spirit past the neck, when the girl gave a sort of crow.
There was now every hope of success, and all the company renewed their
prayers with redoubled vigor. The spirit made a last feeble resistance
at the elbows and wrists, which was triumphantly overborne by the
strength of the united prayers. Then it quietly submitted, took complete
possession of the body, and the girl came to life. She was submitted to
the usual ceremonies of purification by the local priest, after which
she was led to the prepared lanai, when kahuna, maid, parents, and
relatives had a joyous reunion. Then they feasted on the food prepared
for the gods, who were only supposed to absorb the spiritual essence of
things, leaving the grosser material parts to their devotees, who, for
the time being, are considered their guests.
After the feast the feather cloak, kapas,
and fine mats were brought and displayed to Eleio; and the father said
to him: “Take the woman thou hast restored and have her for wife, and
remain here with us; you will be our son and will share equally in the
love we have for her.”
But our hero, with great self-denial and
fidelity, said: “No, I accept her as a charge, but for wife, she is
worthy to be one for a higher than I. If you will trust her to me, I
will take her to my master, for by her beauty and charms she is worthy
to be the queen of our lovely island.”
The father answered: “She is yours to do
with as you will. It is as if you had created her, for without you,
where would she be now? We only ask this, that you always remember that
you have parents and relatives here, and a home whenever you choose.”
Eleio then asked that the feather cloak be
finished for him before he returned to his master. All who could work at
feathers set about it at once, including the fair girl restored to life;
and he now learned that she was called Kanikaniaula.
When it was completed he set out on his
return to Lahaina accompanied by the girl, and taking the feather cloak
and the remaining awa he had not used in his incantations. They
travelled slowly according to the strength of Kanikaniaula, who now in
the body could not equal the speed she had displayed as a spirit.
Arriving at Launiupoko, Eleio turned to her
and said: “You wait and hide here in the bushes while I go on alone. If
by sundown I do not return, I shall be dead. You know the road by which
we came; then return to your people. But if all goes well with me I
shall be back in a little while.”
He then went on alone, and when he reached
Makila, on the confines of Lahaina, he saw a number of people heating an
imu, or underground oven. On perceiving him they started to bind and
roast him alive, such being the orders of the King, but he ordered them
away with the request, “Let me die at the feet of my master.” And thus
he passed successfully the imu heated for him.
When he finally stood before Kakaalaneo, the
latter said to him: “How is this? Why are you not cooked alive, as I
ordered? How came you to pass my lunas?”
The kukini answered: “It was the wish of the
slave to die at the feet of his master, if die he must; but if so, it
would be an irreparable loss to you, my master, for I have that with me
that will cause your name to be renowned and handed down to posterity.”
“And what is that?” questioned the King.
Eleio then unrolled his bundle and displayed
to the astonished gaze of the King and courtiers the glories of a
feather cloak, before then unheard of on the islands. Needless to say,
he was immediately pardoned and restored to royal favor, and the awa he
had brought from Hana was reserved for the King’s special use in his
offerings to the gods that evening.
When the King heard the whole story of
Eleio’s absence, and that the fair original owner was but a short way
off, he ordered her to be immediately brought before him that he might
express his gratitude for the wonderful garment. When she arrived, he
was so struck with her beauty and modest deportment that he ask her to
become his Queen. Thus, some of the highest chiefs of the land traced
their descent from Kakaalaneo and Kanikaniaula. The original feather
cloak, known as the “Ahu o Kakaalaneo,” is said to be in the possession
of the Pauahi Bishop Museum. At one time it was used on state occasions
as pa-u, or skirt, by Princess Nahienaena, own sister of the second and
third Kamehame-has.
The ahuulas of the ancient Hawaiians were of
fine netting, entirely covered, with feathers woven in. These were
either of one color and kind or two or three different colors outlining
patterns. The feathers were knotted by twos or threes with twisted
strands of the olona, the process being called uo. They were then woven
into the foundation netting previously made the exact shape and size
wanted. The whole process of feather cloak making was laborious and
intricate, and the making of a cloak took a great many years. And as to
durability, let the cloak of Kalaalaneo, now several centuries old,
attest. Back to Contents
Kaala and Kaaialii,
Legend of Lanai, W. M. Gibson
Bordering upon the land of Kealia, on the
southwest coast of Lanai, where was pahonua or place of refuge, are the
remains of Kaunolu, an ancient heiau, or temple. Its ruins lie within
the mouth of a deep ravine, whose extending banks run out into the sea
and form a bold, bluff-bound bay. On the top of the western bank there
is a stone-paved platform, called the kuaha. Outside of this, and
separated by a narrow alley-way, there runs a broad high wall, which
quite encircles the kuaha. Other walls and structures lead down the
bank, and the slope is terraced and paved down to the tide-worn stones
of the shore.
At the beach there is a break; a great block
of the bluff has been rent away by some convulsion of nature, and stands
out like a lone tower, divided from the main by a gulf of the sea. Its
high walls beetle from their tops, upon which neither man nor goat can
climb. But you can behold on the flat summit of this islet bluff,
portions of ancient work, of altars and walls, and no doubt part of the
mainland temple, to which this fragment once was joined. But man can
visit this lone tower’s top no more, and his feet can never climb its
overhanging walls.
Inland from the temple there are many
remains of the huts of the people of the past. The stone foundations,
the inclosures for swine, the round earth ovens, and other traces of a
throng of people cover many acres of beach and hillside. This was a town
famed as an abode of gods and a refuge for those who fled for their
lives; but it drew its people mainly through the fame of its
fishing-ground, which swarmed with the varied life of the Hawaiian seas.
To this famed fishing-ground came the great
hero of Hawaii to tax the deep, when he had subdued this and the other
isles. He came with his fleets of war canoes; with his faithful koas, or
fighting men, with his chiefs, and priests, and women, and their trains.
He had a house here. Upon the craggy bluff that forms the eastern bank
of the bay there is a lonely pa, or wall, and stones of an ancient fort,
overlooking the temple, town, and bay.
Kamehameha came to Kealia for sport rather
than for worship. Who so loved to throw the maika ball, or hurl the
spear, or thrust aside the many javelins flung at his naked chest, as
the chief of Kohala? He rode gladly on the crest of the surf waves. He
delighted to drive his canoe alone out into the storm. He fought with
the monsters of the deep, as well as with men. He captured the great
shark that abounds in the bay, and he would clutch in the fearful grip
of his hands the deadly eel or snake of these seas, the terror of fishes
and men.
When this warrior king came to Kaunolu, the
islanders thronged to the shore to pay homage to the great chief, and to
lay at the feet of their sovereign, as was their wont, the products of
the isle: the taro, the yam, the hala, the cocoanut, ohelo, banana, and
sweet potato. They piled up a mound of food before the door of the
King’s pakui, along with a clamorous multitude of fat poi-fed dogs, and
of fathom-long swine.
Besides this tribute of the men, the workers
of the land, the women filled the air with the sweet odors of their
floral offerings. The maidens were twined from head to waist with leis
or wreaths of the na-u, which is Lanai’s own lovely jessamine—a rare
gardenia, whose sweet aroma loads the breeze, and leads you to the bush
when seeking it afar off. These garlands were fastened to the plaited
pili thatch of the King’s pakui; they were placed on the necks of the
young warriors, who stood around the chief; and around his royal brows
they twined an odorous crown of maile.
The Ceremony of the Hula.
The brightest of the girlish throng who
stood before the dread Lord of the Isles was Kaala, or Sweet Scented,
whose fifteen suns had just burnished her sweet brown face with a soft
golden gloss; and her large, round, tender eyes knew yet no wilting
fires. Her neck and arms, and all of her young body not covered by the
leafy pa-u, was tinted with a soft sheen like unto a rising moon. Her
skin glowed with the glory of youth, and mingled its delicate odor of
health with the blooms of the groves, so that the perfume of her
presence received fittingly the name of Fragrance.
In those rude days the island race was sound
and clean. The supple round limbs were made bright and strong by the
constant bath and the temperate breeze. They were not cumbered with
clothing; they wore no long, sweating gowns, but their smooth, shining
skins reflected back their sun, which gave them such a rich and dusky
charm.
Perhaps such a race cannot long wear all our
gear and live. They are best clothed with sea foam, or with the garlands
of their groves. How sweetly blend the brown and green; and when young,
soft, amber-tinted cheeks, glowing with the crimson tide beneath, are
wreathed with the odorous evergreens of the isles, you see the poesy of
our kind, and the sweet, wild grace that dwelt in the Eden Paradise.
The sweet Kaala stood mindless of harm, as
the playful breeze rustled the long blades of the la-i (dracæna) leaves,
hanging like a bundle of green swords from her waist; and as they
twirled and fluttered in the air, revealed the soft, rounded form, whose
charm filled the eye and heart of one who stood among the braves of the
great chief—the heart of the stout young warrior Kaaialii.
This youth had fought in the battle of
Maunalei, Lanai’s last bloody fight. With his long-reaching spear,
wielded with sinewy arms, he urged the flying foe to the top of a
fearful cliff, and mocking the cries of a huddled crowd of panic-scared
men, drove them with thrusts and shouts till they leaped like frightened
sheep into the jaws of the deep, dark chasm, and their torn corpses
strewed the jagged stones below.
Kaaialii, like many a butcher of his kind,
was comely to see. With the lion’s heart, he had the lion’s tawny hue. A
swart grace beamed beneath his curling brows. He had the small, firm
hand to throttle or caress, and eyes full of fire for hate or love; and
love’s flame now lit the face of the hero of the bloody leap, and to his
great chief he said, “O King of all the isles, let this sweet flower be
mine, rather than the valley thou gavest me for my domain.”
Said Kamehameha: “You shall plant the Lanai
jessamine in the valley I gave you in Kohala. But there is another who
claims our daughter, who is the stout bone-breaker, the scarred Mailou.
My spearman of Maunalei can have no fear; and you shall wrestle with
him; and let the one whose arms can clasp the girl after the fight carry
her to his house, where one kapa shall cover the two.”
The poor maid, the careless gift of savage
power, held up her clasped hands with a frightened gesture at the dread
name of the breaker of bones; for she had heard how he had sucked the
breath of many a dainty bloom like her, then crunched the wilted blossom
with sinews of hate, and flung it to the sharks.
And the Lanai maiden loved the young chief
of Hawaii. He had indeed pierced her people, but only the tender darts
of his eyes had wounded her. Turning to him, she looked her savage,
quick, young love, and said, “O Kaaialii, may thy grip be as sure as thy
thrust. Save me from the bloody virgin-eater, and I will catch the squid
and beat the kapa for thee all my days.”
The time of contest approached. The King sat
under the shade of a leafy kou, the royal tree of the olden time, which
has faded away with the chiefs it once did shelter. On the smooth shell
floor, covered with the hala mat, stood the bare-limbed braves, stripped
to the malo, who with hot eyes of hate shot out their rage of lust and
blood, and stretched out their strangling arms. They stood, beating with
heavy fists their broad, glossy chests of bronze, and grinning face to
face, they glowered their savage wish to kill. Then, with right foot
advanced, and right arm uplifted, they pause to shout their gage of
battle, and tell to each how they would maim and tear, and kill, and
give each other’s flesh for food to some beastly maw.
And now, each drawing near to each, with
arms uplifted, and outspread palms with sinewy play, like nervy claws
trying to clutch or grip, they seek a chance for a deadly clinch. And
swift the scarred child-strangler has sprung with his right to the young
spear-man’s throat, who as quickly hooks the lunging arm within the
crook of his, and with quick, sledge-like blow breaks the shoulder
arm-bone.
With fury the baffled bone-breaker grips
with the uncrippled hand; but now two stout young arms, tense with rage,
soon twist and break the one unaided limb. Then with limp arms the
beaten brute turns to flee; but swift hate is upon him, and clutches him
by the throat; and pressing him down, the hero of Kaala holds his knee
to the hapless wretch’s back, and with knee bored into the backward
bended spine, he strains and jerks till the jointed bones snap and
break, and the dread throttler of girls and babes lies prone on the mat,
a broken and bloody corpse.
“Good!” cried the King. “Our son has the
strength of Kanekoa. Now let our daughter soothe the limbs of her lover.
Let her stroke his skin, press his joints, and knead his back with the
loving grip and touch of the lomilomi. We will have a great bake, with
the hula and song; and when the feast is over, then shall they be one.”
A line of women squat down. They crone their
wild refrain, praising the one who wins in strife and love. They seize
in their right hand the hula gourd, clattering with pebbles inside. They
whirl it aloft, they shake, they swing, they strike their palms, they
thump the mat; and now with supple joints they twirl their loins, and
with heave and twist, and with swing and song, the savage dance goes on.
The Hula
Dance
Kaala stood up with the maiden throng, the
tender, guarded gifts of kings. They twined their wreaths, they swayed,
and posed their shining arms; and flapping with their hands their leafy
skirts, revealed their rounded limbs. This fires the gaze of men, and
the hero of the day with flaming eyes, springs and clasps his love,
crying as he bears her away: “Thou shalt dance in my hut in Kohala for
me alone, forever!”
At this, a stout yet grizzled man of the
isle lifts up his voice and wails: “Kaala, my child, is gone. Who shall
soothe my limbs when I return from spearing the ohua? And who shall feed
me with taro and breadfruit like the chief of Olowalu, when I have no
daughter to give away? I must hide from the chief or I die.” And thus
wailed out Opunui, the father of Kaala.
But a fierce hate stirred the heart of
Opunui. His friend was driven over the cliff at Maunalei, and he himself
had lived only by crawling at the feet of the slayer. He hid his hate,
and planned to save his girl and balk the killer of his people. He said
in his heart, “I will hide her in the sea, and none but the fish gods
and I shall know where the ever-sounding surf surges over Kaala.”
Now, in the morn, when the girl with ruddy
brown cheeks, and glowing with the brightening dawn of love, stood in
the doorway of the lodge of her lord, and her face was sparkling with
the sheen from the sun, her sire in humble guise stood forth and said,
“My child, your mother at Mahana is dying. Pray you, my lord, your love,
that you may see her once more before his canoe shall bear you to his
great land.”
“Alas!” said the tender child, “since when
is Kalani ill? I shall carry to her this large sweet fish speared by my
lord; and when I have rubbed her aching limbs, she will be well again
with the love touch of her child. Yes, my lord will let me go. Will you
not, O Kaaialii; will you not let me go to give my mother a last
embrace, and I shall be back again before the moon has twice spanned the
bay?”
The hero clasped his young love with one
stout twining arm, and gazing into her eyes, he with a caressing hand
put back from her brow her shining hair, and thus to his heart’s life he
spoke: “O my sweet flower, how shall I live without thee, even for this
day’s march of the sun? For thou art my very breath, and I shall pant
and die like a stranded fish without thee. But no, let me not say so.
Kaaialii is a chief who has fought men and sharks; and he must not speak
like a girl. He too loves his mother, who looks for him in the valley of
Kohala; and shall he deny thy mother, to look her last upon the sweet
face and the tender limbs that she fed and reared for him? Go, my Kaala.
But thy chief will sit and watch with a hungering heart, till thou come
back to his arms again.”
And the pretty jessamine twined her arms
around his neck, and laying her cheek upon his breast said, with
upturned tender glances, “O my chief, who gavest me life and sweet joy;
thy breath is my breath; thy eyes are my sweetest sight; thy breast is
my only resting-place; and when I go away, I shall all the way look back
to thee, and go slowly with a backward turned heart; but when I return
to thee, I shall have wings to bear me to my lord.”
“Yes, my own bird,” said Kaaialii, “thou
must fly, but fly swiftly in thy going as well as in thy coming; for
both ways thou fliest to me. When thou art gone I shall spear the tender
ohua fish, I shall bake the yam and banana, and I will fill the calabash
with sweet water, to feed thee, my heart, when thou shalt come; and thou
shalt feed me with thy loving eyes.
“Here, Opunui! take thy child. Thou gavest
life to her, but now she gives life to me. Bring her back all well, ere
the sun has twice risen. If she come not soon, I shall die; but I should
slay thee before I die; therefore, O Opunui, hasten thy going and thy
coming, and bring back my life and love to me.”
And now the stern hero unclasped the weeping
girl. His eye was calm, but his shut lips showed the work within of a
strong and tender heart of love. He felt the ache of a larger woe than
this short parting. He pressed the little head between his palms; he
kissed the sobbing lips again and again; he gave one strong clasp, heart
to heart, and then quickly strode away.
As Kaala tripped along the stony up-hill
path, she glanced backward on her way, to get glimpses of him she loved,
and she beheld her chief standing on the topmost rock of the great bluff
overhanging the sea. And still as she went and looked, still there he
stood; and when on the top of the ridge and about to descend into the
great valley, she turned to look her last, still she saw her loving lord
looking up to her.
The silent sire and the weeping child soon
trod the round, green vale of Palawai. She heeded not now to pluck, as
was her wont, the flowers in her path; but thought how she should stop a
while, as she came back, to twine a wreath for her dear lord’s neck. And
thus this sad young love tripped along with innocent hope by the moody
Opunui’s side.
They passed through the groves of Kalulu and
Kumoku, and then the man swerved from the path leading to Mahana and
turned his face again seaward. At this the sad and silent child looked
up into the face of her grim and sullen sire and said: “O father, we
shall not find mother on this path, but we shall lose our way and come
to the sea once more.”
“And thy mother is by the sea, by the bay of
Kaumalapau. There she gathers limpets on the rocks. She has dried a
large squid for thee. She has pounded some taro and filled her calabash
with poi, and would feed thee once more. She is not sick; but had I said
she was well, thy lord would not have let thee go; but now thou art on
the way to sleep with thy mother by the sea.”
The poor weary girl now trudged on with a
doubting heart. She glanced sadly at her dread sire’s moody eye. Silent
and sore she trod the stony path leading down to the shore, and when she
came to the beach with naught in view but the rocks and sea, she said
with a bursting heart, “O my father, is the shark to be my mother, and I
to never see my dear chief any more?”
“Hear the truth,” cried Opunui. “Thy home
for a time is indeed in the sea, and the shark shall be thy mate, but he
shall not harm thee. Thou goest down where the sea god lives, and he
shall tell thee that the accursed chief of the bloody leap shall not
carry away any daughter of Lanai. When Kaaialii has sailed for Kohala
then shall the chief of Olowalu come and bring thee to earth again.”
As the fierce sire spoke, he seized the hand
of Kaala, and unheeding her sobs and cries, led her along the rugged
shore to a point eastward of the bay, where the beating sea makes the
rocky shore tremble beneath the feet. Here was a boiling gulf, a fret
and foam of the sea, a roar of waters, and a mighty jet of brine and
spray from a spouting cave whose mouth lay deep beneath the battling
tide.
See yon advancing billow! The south wind
sends it surging along. It rears its combing, whitening crest, and with
mighty, swift-rushing volume of angry green sea, it strikes the mouth of
the cave; it drives and packs the pent-up air within, and now the
tightened wind rebounds, and driving back the ramming sea, bursts forth
with a roar as the huge spout of sea leaps upward to the sky, and then
comes curving down in gentle silver spray.
The fearful child now clasped the knees of
her savage sire. “Not there, O father,” she sobbed and wailed. “The sea
snake (the puhi) has his home in the cave, and he will bite and tear me,
and ere I die, the crawling crabs will creep over me and pick out my
weeping eyes. Alas, O father, better give me to the shark, and then my
cry and moan will not hurt thine ear.”
Opunui clasped the slender girl with one
sinewy arm, and with a bound he leaped into the frothed and fretted pool
below. Downward with a dolphin’s ease he moved, and with his free arm
beating back the brine, moved along the ocean bed into the sea cave’s
jagged jaws; and then stemming with stiffened sinew the wind-driven
tide, he swam onward till he struck a sunless beach and then stood
inside the cave, whose mouth is beneath the sea.
Here was a broad, dry space with a lofty,
salt-icicled roof. The green, translucent sea, as it rolled back and
forth at their feet, gave to their brown faces a ghastly white glare.
The scavenger crabs scrambled away over the dank and dripping stones,
and the loathsome biting eel, slowly reached out its well-toothed,
wide-gaping jaw to tear the tender feet that roused it from its horrid
lair, where the dread sea god dwelt.
The poor hapless girl sank down upon this
gloomy shore and cried, clinging to the kanaka’s knee: “O father, beat
out my brains with this jagged stone, and do not let the eel twine
around my neck, and trail with a loathsome, slimy, creeping crawl over
my body before I die. Oh! the crabs will pick and tear me before my
breath is gone.”
“Listen,” said Opunui. “Thou shalt go back
with me to the warm sunny air. Thou shalt tread again the sweet-smelling
flowery vale of Palawai, and twine thy neck with wreaths of scented
jessamine, if thou wilt go with me to the house of the chief of Olowalu
and there let thy bloody lord behold thee wanton with thy love in
another chief’s arms.”
“Never,” shouted the lover of Kaaialii,
“never will I meet any clasp of love but that of my own chief. If I
cannot lay my head again upon his breast, I will lay it in death upon
these cold stones. If his arm shall never again draw me to his heart,
then let the eel twine my neck and let him tear away my cheeks rather
than that another beside my dear lord shall press my face.”
“Then let the eel be thy mate,” cried Opunui,
as he roughly unclasped the tender arms twined around his knees; “until
the chief of Olowalu comes to seize thee, and carry thee to his house in
the hills of Maui. Seek not to leave the cave. Thou knowest that with
thy weak arms, thou wilt tear thyself against the jagged rocks in trying
to swim through the swift flowing channel. Stay till I send for thee,
and live.” Then dashing out into the foaming gulf with mighty buffeting
arms he soon reached the upper air.
And Kaaialii stood upon the bluff, looking
up to the hillside path by which his love had gone, long after her form
was lost to view in the interior vales. And after slight sleep upon his
mat, and walking by the shore that night, he came at dawn and climbed
the bluff again to watch his love come down the hill. And as he gazed he
saw a leafy skirt flutter in the wind, and his heart fluttered to clasp
his little girl; but as a curly brow drew near, his soul sank to see it
was not his love, but her friend Ua (rain) with some sad news upon her
face.
With hot haste and eager asking eyes does
the love-lorn chief meet the maiden messenger, and cries, “Why does
Kaala delay in the valley? Has she twined wreaths for another’s neck for
me to break? Has a wild hog torn her? Or has the anaana prayer of death
struck her heart, and does she lie cold on the sod of Mahana? Speak
quickly, for thy face kills me, O Ua!”
“Not thus, my lord,” said the weeping girl,
as the soft shower fell from Ua’s sweet eyes. “Thy love is not in the
valley; and she has not reached the hut of her mother Kalani. But
kanakas saw from the hills of Kalulu her father lead her through the
forest of Kumoku; since then our Kaala has not been seen, and I fear has
met some fate that is to thwart thy love.”
“Kaala lost? The blood of my heart is gone!”
He hears no more! The fierce chief, hot with baffled passion, strikes
madly at the air, and dashes away, onward up the stony hill; and upward
with his stout young savage thews, he bounds along without halt or slack
of speed till he reaches the valley’s rim, then rushes down its slopes.
He courses over its bright green plains. He
sees in the dusty path some prints that must be those of the dear feet
he follows now. His heart feels a fresh bound; he feels neither strain
of limb nor scantness of breath, and, searching as he runs, he descries
before him in the plain the deceitful sire alone.
“Opunui,” he cries, “give me Kaala, or thy
life!” The stout, gray kanaka looks to see the face of flame and the
outstretched arms, and stops not to try the strength of his own limbs,
or to stay for any parley, but flies across the valley, along the very
path by which the fierce lover came; and with fear to spur him on, he
keeps well before his well blown foe.
But Kaaialii is now a god; he runs with new
strung limbs, and presses hard this fresh-footed runner of many a race.
They are within two spears’ length of each other’s grip upon the rim of
the vale; and hot with haste the one, and with fear the other, they dash
along the rugged path of Kealia, and rush downward to the sea. They
bound o’er the fearful path of clinkers. Their torn feet heed not the
pointed stones. The elder seeks the shelter of the taboo; and now, both
roused by the outcries of a crowd that swarm on the bluffs around, they
put forth their remaining strength and strive who shall gain first the
entrance to the sacred wall of refuge.
For this the hunted sire strains his fast
failing nerve; and the youth with a shout quickens his still tense
limbs. He is within a spear’s length; he stretches out his arms. Ha, old
man! he has thy throat within his grip. But no, the greased neck slips
the grasp; the wretch leaps for his dear life, he gains the sacred wall,
he bounds inside, and the furious foe is stopped by the staves of
priests.
The baffled chief lies prone in the dust,
and curses the gods and the sacred taboo. After a time he is led away to
his hut by friends; and then the soothing hands of Ua rub and knead the
soreness out of his limbs. And when she has set the calabash of poi
before him along with the relishing dry squid, and he has filled himself
and is strong again, he will not heed any entreaty of chief or friends;
not even the caressing lures of Ua, who loves him; but he says, “I will
go and seek Kaala; and if I find her not, I die.”
Again the love-lorn chief seeks the inland.
He shouts the name of his lost love in the groves of Kumoku, and
throughout the forest of Mahana. Then he roams through the
cloud-canopied valley of Palawai; he searches among the wooded canyons
of Kalulu, and he wakes the echoes with the name of Kaala in the gorge
of the great ravine of Maunalei. He follows this high walled barranca
over its richly flowered and shaded floor; and also along by the winding
stream, until he reaches its source, an abrupt wall of stone, one
hundred feet high, and forming the head of the ravine. From the face of
this steep, towering rock, there exudes a sweet, clear rain, a thousand
trickling rills of rock-filtered water leaping from points of fern and
moss, and filling up an ice cold pool below, at which our weary chief
gladly slaked his thirst. The hero now clambers the steep walls of the
gorge, impassable to the steps of men in these days; but he climbs with
toes thrust in crannies, or resting on short juts and points of rock;
and he pulls himself upward by grasping at out-cropping bushes and
strong tufts of fern. And thus with stout sinew and bold nerve the
fearless spearman reaches the upper land from whence he had, in his day
of devouring rage, hurled and driven headlong the panic-stricken foe.
And now he runs on over the lands of Paomai,
through the wooded dells of the gorge of Kaiholena, and onward across
Kaunolu and Kalulu, until he reaches the head spring of sacred Kealia
called Waiakekua; and here he gathered bananas and ohelo berries; and as
he stayed his hunger with the pleasant wild fruit, he beheld a
white-haired priest of Kaunolu, bearing a calabash of water.
The aged priest feared the stalwart chief,
because he was not upon his own sacred ground, under the safe wing of
the taboo; and therefore he bowed low and clasped the stout knees, and
offered the water to slake the thirst of the sorrowing chief. But
Kaaialii cried out: “I thirst not for water, but for the sight of my
love. Tell me where she is hid, and I will bring thee hogs and men for
the gods.” And to this the glad priest replied:
“Son of the stout spear! I know thou seekest
the sweet Flower of Palawai; and no man but her sire has seen her
resting-place; but I know that thou seekest in vain in the groves, and
in the ravines, and in this mountain. Opunui is a great diver and has
his dens in the sea. He leaves the shore when no one follows, and he
sleeps with the fish gods, and thou wilt find thy love in some cave of
the rock-bound southern shore.”
The chief quickly turns his face again
seaward. He descends the deep shaded pathway of the ravine of Kaunolu.
He winds his way through shaded thickets of ohia, sandalwood, the yellow
mamani, the shrub violet, and the fragrant na-u. He halted not as he
reached the plain of Palawai, though the ever overhanging canopy of
cloud that shades this valley of the mountain cooled his weary feet.
These upper lands were still, and no voice was heard by the pili grass
huts, and the maika balls and the wickets of the bowling alley of
Palawai stood untouched, because all the people were with the great
chief by the shore of Kaunolu; and Kaaialii thought that he trod the
flowery pathway of the still valley alone.
But there was one who, in soothing his
strained limbs after he fell by the gateway of the temple, had planted
strong love in her own heart; and she, Ua, with her lithe young limbs,
had followed this sorrowing lord through all his weary tramp, even
through the gorges, and over the ramparts of the hills, and she was near
the sad, wayworn chief when he reached the southern shore.
The weary hero only stayed his steps when he
reached the brow of the great bluff of Palikaholo. The sea broke many
hundred feet below where he stood. The gulls and screaming boatswain
birds sailed in mid-air between his perch and the green waves. He looked
up the coast to his right, and saw the lofty, wondrous sea columns of
Honopu. He looked to the left, and beheld the crags of Kalulu, but
nowhere could he see any sign which should tell him where his love was
hid away.
His strong, wild nature was touched by the
distant sob and moan of the surf. It sang a song for his sad, savage
soul. It roused up before his eyes other eyes, and lips, and cheeks, and
clasps of tender arms. His own sinewy ones he now stretched out wildly
in the mocking air. He groaned, and sobbed, and beat his breast as he
cried out, “Kaala! O Kaala! Where art thou? Dost thou sleep with the
fish gods, or must I go to join thee in the great shark’s maw?”
As the sad hero thought of this dread
devourer of many a tender child of the isles, he hid his face with his
hands,—looking with self-torture upon the image of his soft young love,
crunched, bloody and shrieking, in the jaws of the horrid god of the
Hawaiian seas; and as he thought and waked up in his heart the memories
of his love, he felt that he must seek her even in her gory grave in the
sea.
Then he looks forth again, and as he gazes
down by the shore his eyes rest upon the spray of the blowing cave near
Kaumalapau. It leaps high with the swell which the south wind sends. The
white mist gleams in the sun. Shifting forms and shades are seen in the
varied play of the up-leaping cloud. And as with fevered soul he
glances, he sees a form spring up in the ever bounding spray.
He sees with his burning eyes the lines of
the sweet form that twines with tender touch around his soul. He sees
the waving hair, that mingles on his neck with his own swart curls. He
sees,—he thinks he sees,—in the leap and play of sun-tinted spray, his
love, his lost Kaala; and with hot foot he rushes downward to the shore.
He stands upon the point of rock whence
Opunui sprang. He feels the throb beneath his feet of the beating,
bounding tide. He sees the fret and foam of the surging gulf below the
leaping spray, and is wetted by the shore-driven mist. He sees all of
this wild, working water, but he does not see Kaala.
And yet he peers into this mad surf for her
he seeks. The form that he has seen still leads him on. He will brave
the sea god’s wrath; and he fain would cool his brow of flame in the
briny bath. He thinks he hears a voice sounding down within his soul;
and cries, “Where art thou, O Kaala? I come, I come!” And as he cries,
he springs into the white, foaming surge of this ever fretted sea.
And one was near as the hero sprang; even Ua,
with the clustering curls. She loved the chief; she did hope that when
his steps were stayed by the sea, and he had mingled his moan with the
wild waters’ wail, that he would turn once more to the inland groves,
where she would twine him wreaths, and soothe his limbs, and rest his
head upon her knees; but he has leaped for death, he comes up no more.
And Ua wailed for Kaaialii; and as the chief rose no more from out the
lashed and lathered sea, she cried out, “Auwe ka make!” (Alas, he is
dead!) And thus wailing and crying out, and tearing her hair, she ran
back over the bluffs, and down the shore to the tabooed ground of Kealia,
and wailing ever, flung herself at the feet of Kamehameha.
The King was grieved to hear from Ua of the
loss of his young chief. But the priest Papalua standing near, said: “O
Chief of Heaven, and of all the isles; there where Kaaialii has leaped
is the sea den of Opunui, and as thy brave spearman can follow the
turtle to his deep sea nest, he will see the mouth of the cave, and in
it, I think, he will find his lost love, Kaala, the flower of Palawai.”
At this Ua roused up. She called to her
brother Keawe, and laying hold on him, pulled him toward the shore,
crying out, “To thy canoe, quick! I will help thee to paddle to
Kaumalapau.” For thus she could reach the cave sooner than by the way of
the bluffs. And the great chief also following, sprang into his swiftest
canoe, and helping as was his wont, plunged his blade deep into the
swelling tide, and bounded along by the frowning shore of Kumoku.
When Kaaialii plunged beneath the surging
waters, he became at once the searching diver of the Hawaiian seas; and
as his keen eye peered throughout the depths, he saw the portals of the
ocean cave into which poured the charging main. He then, stemming with
easy play of his well-knit limbs the suck and rush of the sea, shot
through the current of the gorge; and soon stood up upon the sunless
strand.
At first he saw not, but his ears took in at
once a sad and piteous moan,—a sweet, sad moan for his hungry ear, of
the voice of her he sought. And there upon the cold, dank, dismal floor
he could dimly see his bleeding, dying love. Quickly clasping and
soothing her, he lifted her up to bear her to the upper air; but the
moans of his poor weak Kaala told him she would be strangled in passing
through the sea.
And as he sat down, and held her in his
arms, she feebly spoke: “O my chief, I can die now! I feared that the
fish gods would take me, and I should never see thee more. The eel bit
me, and the crabs crawled over me, and when I dared the sea to go and
seek thee, my weak arms could not fight the tide; I was torn against the
jaws of the cave, and this and the fear of the gods have so hurt me,
that I must die.”
“Not so, my love,” said the sad and tearful
chief. “I am with thee now. I give thee the warmth of my heart. Feel my
life in thine. Live, O my Kaala, for me. Come, rest and be calm, and
when thou canst hold thy breath I will take thee to the sweet air again,
and to thy valley, where thou shalt twine wreaths for me.” And thus with
fond words and caresses he sought to soothe his love.
But the poor girl still bled as she moaned;
and with fainter voice she said, “No, my chief, I shall never twine a
wreath, but only my arms once more around thy neck.” And feebly clasping
him, she said in sad, sobbing, fainting tones, “Aloha, my sweet lord!
Lay me among the flowers by Waiakeakua, and do not slay my father.”
Then, breathing moans and murmurs of love,
she lay for a time weak and fainting upon her lover’s breast, with her
arms drooping by her side. But all at once she clasps his neck, and with
cheek to cheek, she clings, she moans, she gasps her last throbs of love
and passes away; and her poor torn corse lies limp within the arms of
the love-lorn chief.
As he cries out in his woe there are other
voices in the cave. First he hears the voice of Ua speaking to him in
soothing tones as she stoops to the body of her friend; and then in a
little while he hears the voice of his great leader calling to him and
bidding him stay his grief. “O King of all the Seas,” said Kaaialii,
standing up and leaving Kaala to the arms of Ua, “I have lost the flower
thou gavest me; it is broken and dead, and I have no more joy in life.”
“What!” said Kamehameha, “art thou a chief,
and wouldst cast away life for a girl? Here is Ua, who loves thee; she
is young and tender like Kaala. Thou shalt have her, and more, if thou
dost want. Thou shalt have, besides the land I gave thee in Kohala, all
that thou shalt ask of Lanai. Its great valley of Palawai shall be thine;
and thou shalt watch my fishing grounds of Kaunolu, and be the Lord of
Lanai.”
“Hear, O King,” said Kaaialii. “I gave to
Kaala more of my life in loving her, and of my strength in seeking for
her than ever I gave for thee in battle. I gave to her more of love than
I ever gave to my mother, and more of my thought than I ever gave to my
own life. She was my very breath, and my life, and how shall I live
without her? Her face, since first I saw her, has been ever before me;
and her warm breasts were my joy and repose; and now that they are cold
to me, I must go where her voice and love have gone. If I shut my eyes
now I see her best; therefore let me shut my eyes forevermore.” And as
he spoke, he stooped to clasp his love, said a tender word of adieu to
Ua, and then with a swift, strong blow, crushed in brow and brain with a
stone.
The dead chief lay by the side of his love,
and Ua wailed over both. Then the King ordered that the two lovers
should lie side by side on a ledge of the cave; and that they should be
wrapped in tapas which should be brought down through the sea in tight
bamboos. Then there was great wailing for the chief and the maid who lay
in the cave; and thus wailed Ua:
“Where art thou, O brave chief?
Where art thou, O fond girl?
Will ye sleep by the sound of the sea?
And will ye dream of the gods of the deep?
O sire, where now is thy child?
O mother, where now is thy son?
The lands of Kohala shall mourn,
And valleys of Lanai shall lament.
The spear of the chief shall rot in the
cave,
And the tapa of the maid is left undone.
The wreaths for his neck, they shall fade,
They shall fade away on the hills.
O Kaaialii, who shall spear the uku?
O Kaala, who shall gather the na-u?
Have ye gone to the shores of Kahiki,
To the land of our father, Wakea?
Will ye feed on the moss of the cave,
And the limpets of the surf-beaten shore?
O chief, O friend, I would feed ye,
O chief, O friend, I would rest ye.
Ye loved, like the sun and the flower,
Ye lived like the fish and the wave,
And now like the seeds in a shell,
Ye sleep in your cave by the sea.
Alas! O chief, alas! O my friend,
Will ye sleep in the cave evermore?”
And thus Ua wailed, and then was borne away
by her brother to the sorrowful shore of Kaunolu, where there was loud
wailing for the chief and the maid; and many were the chants of
lamentation for the two lovers, who sleep side by side in the Spouting
Cave of Kaala. Back to Contents
The Tomb of Puupehe, A
Legend of Lanai, From “The Hawaiian Gazette”
One of the
interesting localities of tradition, famed in Hawaiian song and story of
ancient days, is situate at the southwestern point of the island of
Lanai, and known as the Kupapau o Puupehe, or Tomb of Puupehe. At the
point indicated, on the leeward coast of the island, may be seen a huge
block of red lava about eighty feet high and some sixty feet in
diameter, standing out in the sea, and detached from the mainland some
fifty fathoms, around which centres the following legend.
Observed from the overhanging bluff that
overlooks Puupehe, upon the summit of this block or elevated islet,
would be noticed a small inclosure formed by a low stone wall. This is
said to be the last resting-place of a Hawaiian girl whose body was
buried there by her lover Makakehau, a warrior of Lanai.
Puupehe was the daughter of Uaua, a petty
chief, one of the dependents of the king of Maui, and she was won by
young Makakehau as the joint prize of love and war. These two are
described in the Kanikau, or Lamentation, of Puupehe, as mutually
captive, the one to the other. The maiden was a sweet flower of Hawaiian
beauty. Her glossy brown, spotless body “shone like the clear sun rising
out of Haleakala.” Her flowing, curly hair, bound by a wreath of lehua
blossoms, streamed forth as she ran “like the surf crests scudding
before the wind.” And the starry eyes of the beautiful daughter of Uaua
blinded the young warrior, so that he was called Makakehau, or Misty
Eyes.
The Hawaiian brave feared that the
comeliness of his dear captive would cause her to be coveted by the
chiefs of the land. His soul yearned to keep her all to himself. He
said: “Let us go to the clear waters of Kalulu. There we will fish
together for the kala and the aku, and there I will spear the turtle. I
will hide you, my beloved, forever in the cave of Malauea. Or, we will
dwell together in the great ravine of Palawai, where we will eat the
young of the uwau bird, and we will bake them in ki leaf with the sweet
pala fern root. The ohelo berries of the mountains will refresh my love.
We will drink of the cool waters of Maunalei. I will thatch a hut in the
thicket of Kaohai for our resting-place, and we shall love on till the
stars die.
The meles tell of their love in the Pulou
ravine, where they caught the bright iiwi birds, and the scarlet apapani.
Ah, what sweet joys in the banana groves of Waiakeakua, where the lovers
saw naught so beautiful as themselves! But the “misty eyes” were soon to
be made dim by weeping, and dimmer, till the drowning brine should close
them forevermore.
Makakehau left his love one day in the cave
of Malauea while he went to the mountain spring to fill the water-gourds
with sweet water. This cavern yawns at the base of the overhanging bluff
that overtops the rock of Puupehe. The sea surges far within, but there
is an inner space which the expert swimmer can reach, and where Puupehe
had often rested and baked the honu> or sea turtle, for her absent
lover.
This was the season for the kona, the
terrific storm that comes up from the equator and hurls the ocean in
increased volume upon the southern shores of the Hawaiian Islands.
Makakehau beheld from the rock springs of Pulou the vanguard of a great
kona,—scuds of rain and thick mist, rushing with a howling wind, across
the valley of Palawai. He knew the storm would fill the cave with the
sea and kill his love. He flung aside his calabashes of water and ran
down the steep, then across the great valley and beyond its rim he
rushed, through the bufferings of the storm, with an agonized heart,
down the hill slope to the shore.
The sea was up indeed. The yeasty foam of
mad surging waves whitened the shore. The thundering buffet of the
charging billows chorused with the howl of the tempest. Ah! where should
Misty Eyes find his love in this blinding storm? A rushing mountain of
sea filled the mouth of Malauea, and the pent-up air hurled back the
invading torrent with bubbling roar, blowing forth great streams of
spray. This was a war of matter, a battle of the elements to thrill with
pleasure the hearts of strong men. But with one’s love in the seething
gulf of the whirlpool, what would be to him the sublime cataract? What,
to see amid the boiling foam the upturned face, and the dear, tender
body of one’s own and only poor dear love, all mangled? You might
agonize on the brink; but Makakehau sprang into the dreadful pool and
snatched his murdered bride from the jaws of an ocean grave.
The next day, fishermen heard the
lamentation of Makakehau, and the women of the valley came down and
wailed over Puupehe. They wrapped her in bright new kapa. They placed
upon her garlands of the fragrant na-u (gardenia). They prepared her for
burial, and were about to place her in the burial ground of Manele, but
Makakehau prayed that he might be left alone one night more with his
lost love. And he was left as he desired.
The next day no corpse nor weeping lover
were to be found, till after some search Makakehau was seen at work
piling up stones on the top of the lone sea tower. The wondering people
of Lanai looked on from the neighboring bluff, and some sailed around
the base of the columnar rock in their canoes, still wondering, because
they could see no way for him to ascend, for every face of the rock is
perpendicular or overhanging. The old belief was, that some akua,
kanekoa, or keawe-manhili (deities), came at the cry of Makakehau and
helped him with the dead girl to the top.
When Makakehau had finished his labors of
placing his lost love in her grave and placed the last stone upon it, he
stretched out his arms and wailed for Puupehe, thus:
“Where are you O Puupehe?
Are you in the cave of Malauea?
Shall I bring you sweet water,
The water of the mountain?
Shall I bring the uwau,
The pala, and the ohelo?
Are you baking the honu
And the red sweet hala?
Shall I pound the kalo of Maui?
Shall we dip in the gourd together?
The bird and the fish are bitter,
And the mountain water is sour.
I shall drink it no more;
I shall drink with Aipuhi,
The great shark of Manele.”
Ceasing his sad wail, Makakehau leaped from
the rock into the boiling surge at its base, where his body was crushed
in the breakers. The people who beheld the sad scene secured the mangled
corpse and buried it with respect in the kupapau of Manele.
Back to Contents
Ai Kanaka, A Legend
of Molokai, Rev. A. O. Forbes
On the leeward side of the island of
Molokai, a little to the east of Kaluaaha lies the beautiful valley of
Mapulehu, at the mouth of which is located the heiau, or temple, of
Iliiliopae, which was erected by direction of Ku-pa, the Moi, to look
directly out upon the harbor of Ai-Kanaka, now known as Pukoo. At the
time of its construction, centuries ago, Kupa was the Moi, or sovereign,
of the district embracing the Ahupuaas, or land divisions, of Mapulehu
and Kaluaaha, and he had his residence in this heiau which was built by
him and famed as the largest throughout the whole Hawaiian group.
Kupa had a priest named Kamalo, who resided
at Kaluaaha. This priest had two boys, embodiments of mischief, who one
day while the King was absent on a fishing expedition, took the
opportunity to visit his house at the heiau. Finding there the pahu
kaeke1 belonging to the temple, they commenced drumming on it.
Some evil-minded persons heard Kamalo’s boys
drumming on the Kaeke and immediately went and told Kupa that the
priest’s children were reviling him in the grossest manner on his own
drum. This so enraged the King that he ordered his servants to put them
to death. Forthwith they were seized and murdered; whereupon Kamalo,
their father, set about to secure revenge on the King.
Taking with him a black pig as a present, he
started forth to enlist the sympathy and services of the celebrated
seer, or wizard, Lanikaula, living some twelve miles distant at the
eastern end of Molokai. On the way thither, at the village of Honouli,
Kamalo met a man the lower half of whose body had been bitten off by a
shark, and who promised to avenge him provided he would slay some man
and bring him the lower half of his body to replace his own. But Kamalo,
putting no credence in such an offer, pressed on to the sacred grove of
Lanikaula. Upon arrival there Lanikaula listened to his grievances but
could do nothing for him. He directed him, however, to another prophet,
named Kaneakama, at the west end of the island, forty miles distant.
Poor Kamalo picked up his pig and travelled back again, past his own
home, down the coast to Palaau. Meeting with Kaneakama the prophet
directed him to the heiau of Puukahi, at the foot of the pali, or
precipice, of Kalaupapa, on the windward side of the island, where he
would find the priest Kahiwakaapuu, who was a kahu, or steward, of
Kauhuhu, the shark god. Once more the poor man shouldered his pig,
wended his way up the long ascent of the hills of Kalae to the pali of
Kalaupapa, descending which he presented himself before Kahiwakaapuu,
and pleaded his cause. He was again directed to go still farther along
the windward side of the island till he should come to the Ana puhi
(eel’s cave), a singular cavern at sea level in the bold cliffs between
the valleys of Waikolu and Pelekunu, where Kauhuhu, the shark god,
dwelt, and to him he must apply. Upon this away went Kamalo and his pig.
Arriving at the cave, he found there Waka and Moo, two kahus of the
shark god. “Keep off! Keep off!” they shouted. “This place is kapu. No
man can enter here, on penalty of death.”
“Death or life,” answered he, “it is all the
same to me if I can only gain my revenge for my poor boys who have been
killed.” He then related his story, and his wanderings, adding that he
had come to make his appeal to Kauhuhu and cared not for his own life.
“Well,” said they to him, “Kauhuhu is away
now fishing, but if he finds you here when he returns, our lives as well
as yours will pay the forfeit. However, we will see what we can do to
help you. We must hide you hereabouts, somewhere, and when he returns
trust to circumstances to accomplish your purpose.”
But they could find no place to hide him
where he would be secure from the search of the god, except the rubbish
pile where the offal and scrapings of taro were thrown. They therefore
thrust him and his pig into the rubbish heap and covered them over with
the taro peelings, enjoining him to keep perfectly still, and watch till
he should see eight heavy breakers roll in successively from the sea. He
then would know that Kauhuhu was returning from his fishing expedition.
Accordingly, after waiting a while, the
eight heavy rollers appeared, breaking successively against the rocks;
and sure enough, as the eighth dissolved into foam, the great shark god
came ashore. Immediately assuming human form, he began snuffing about
the place, and addressing Waka and Moo, his kahus, said to them, “There
is a man here.” They strenuously denied the charge and protested against
the possibility of their allowing such a desecration of the premises.
But he was not satisfied. He insisted that there was a man somewhere
about, saying, “I smell him, and if I find him you are dead men; if not,
you escape.” He examined the premises over and over again, never
suspecting the rubbish heap, and was about giving up the search when,
unfortunately, Kamalo’s pig sent forth a squeal which revealed the poor
fellow’s hiding-place.
Now came the dread moment. The enraged
Kauhuhu seized Kamalo with both hands and, lifting him up with the
intention of swallowing him, according to his shark instinct, had
already inserted the victim’s head and shoulders into his mouth before
he could speak.
“O Kauhuhu, before you eat me, hear my
petition; then do as you like.”
“Well for you that you spoke as you did,”
answered Kauhuhu, setting him down again on the ground. “Now, what have
you to say? Be quick about it.”
Kamalo then rehearsed his grievances and his
travels in search for revenge, and presented his pig to the god.
Compassion arose in the breast of Kauhuhu,
and he said, “Had you come for any other purpose I would have eaten you,
but as your cause is a sacred one I espouse it, and will revenge it on
Kupa the King. You must, however, do all that I tell you. Return to the
heiau of Puukahi, at the foot of the pali, and take the priest
Kahiwakaapuu on your back, and carry him up the pali over to the other
side of the island, all the way to your home at Kaluaaha. Erect a sacred
fence all around your dwelling-place, and surround it with the sacred
flags of white kapa. Collect black hogs by the lau (four hundred), red
fish by the lau, white fowls by the lau, and bide my coming. Wait and
watch till you see a small cloud the size of a man’s hand arise, white
as snow, over the island of Lanai. That cloud will enlarge as it makes
its way across the channel against the wind until it rests on the
mountain peaks of Molokai back of Mapulehu Valley. Then a rainbow will
span the valley from side to side, whereby you will know that I am
there, and that your time of revenge has come. Go now, and remember that
you are the only man who ever ventured into the sacred precincts of the
great Kauhuhu and returned alive.”
Kamalo returned with a joyful heart and
performed all that had been commanded him. He built the sacred fence
around his dwelling; surrounded the inclosure with sacred flags of white
kapa; gathered together black hogs, red fish, and white fowls, each by
the lau, as directed, with other articles sacred to the gods, such as
cocoanuts and white kapas, and then sat himself down to watch for the
promised signs of his revenge. Day after day passed until they
multiplied into weeks, and the weeks began to run into months.
Finally, one day, the promised sign
appeared. The snow white speck of cloud, no bigger than a man’s hand,
arose over the mountains of Lanai and made its way across the stormy
channel in the face of the opposing gale, increasing as it came, until
it settled in a majestic mass on the mountains at the head of Mapulehu
Valley. Then appeared a splendid rainbow, proudly overarching the
valley, its ends resting on the high lands on either side. The wind
began to blow; the rain began to pour, and shortly a furious storm came
down the doomed valley, filling its bed from side to side with a mad
rushing torrent, which, sweeping everything before it, spread out upon
the belt of lowlands at the mouth of the valley, overwhelming Kupa and
all his people in one common ruin, and washing them all into the sea,
where they were devoured by the sharks. All were destroyed except Kamalo
and his family, who were safe within their sacred inclosure, which the
flood dared not touch, though it spread terror and ruin on every side of
them. Wherefore the harbor of Pukoo, where this terrible event occurred,
was long known as Ai Kanaka (man eater), and it has passed into a
proverb among the inhabitants of that region that “when the rainbow
spans Mapulehu Valley, then look out for the Waiakoloa,”—a furious storm
of rain and wind which sometimes comes suddenly down that valley.
Back to Contents
Kaliuwaa, Scene of
the Demigod Kamapuaa’s Escape from Olopana, From “The Hawaiian
Spectator”
A few miles east of Laie, on the windward
side of the island of Oahu, are situated the valley and falls of
Kaliuwaa, noted as one of the most beautiful and romantic spots of the
island, and famed in tradition as possessing more than local interest.
The valley runs back some two miles,
terminating abruptly at the foot of the precipitous chain of mountains
which runs nearly the whole length of the windward side of Oahu, except
for a narrow gorge which affords a channel for a fine brook that
descends with considerable regularity to a level with the sea. Leaving
his horse at the termination of the valley and entering this narrow pass
of not over fifty or sixty feet in width, the traveller winds his way
along, crossing and recrossing the stream several times, till he seems
to be entering into the very mountain. The walls on each side are of
solid rock, from two hundred to three hundred, and in some places four
hundred feet high, directly overhead, leaving but a narrow strip of sky
visible.
Following up the stream for about a quarter
of a mile, one’s attention is directed by the guide to a curiosity
called by the natives a waa (canoe). Turning to the right, one follows
up a dry channel of what once must have been a considerable stream, to
the distance of fifty yards from the present stream. Here one is stopped
by a wall of solid rock rising perpendicularly before one to the height
of some two hundred feet, and down which the whole stream must have
descended in a beautiful fall. This perpendicular wall is worn in by the
former action of the water in the shape of a gouge, and in the most
perfect manner; and as one looks upon it in all its grandeur, but
without the presence of the cause by which it was formed, he can
scarcely divest his mind of the impression that he is gazing upon some
stupendous work of art.
Returning to the present brook, we again
pursued our way toward the fall, but had not advanced far before we
arrived at another, on the left hand side of the brook, similar in many
respects, but much larger and higher than the one above mentioned. The
forming agent cannot be mistaken, when a careful survey is made of
either of these stupendous perpendicular troughs. The span is
considerably wider at the bottom than at the top, this result being
produced by the spreading of the sheet of water as it was precipitated
from the dizzy height above. The breadth of this one is about twenty
feet at the bottom, and its depth about fourteen feet. But its depth and
span gradually diminish from the bottom to the top, and the rock is worn
as smooth as if chiselled by the hand of an artist. Moss and small
plants have sprung out from the little [195]soil that has accumulated in
the crevices, but not enough to conceal the rock from observation. It
would be an object worth the toil to discover what has turned the stream
from its original channel.
Leaving this singular curiosity, we pursued
our way a few yards farther, when we arrived at the fall. This is from
eighty to one hundred feet high, and the water is compressed into a very
narrow space just where it breaks forth from the rock above. It is quite
a pretty sheet of water when the stream is high. We learned from the
natives that there are two falls above this, both of which are shut out
from the view from below, by a sudden turn in the course of the stream.
The perpendicular height of each is said to be much greater than of the
one we saw. The upper one is visible from the road on the seashore,
which is more than two miles distant, and, judging from information
obtained, must be between two and three hundred feet high. The
impossibility of climbing the perpendicular banks from below deprived us
of the pleasure of farther ascending the stream toward its source. This
can be done only by commencing at the plain and following up one of the
lateral ridges. This would itself be a laborious and fatiguing task, as
the way would be obstructed by a thick growth of trees and tangled
underbrush.
The path leading to this fall is full of
interest to any one who loves to study nature. From where we leave our
horses at the head of the valley and commence entering the mountain,
every step presents new and peculiar beauties. The most luxuriant
verdure clothes the ground, and in some places the beautifully burnished
leaves of the ohia, or native apple-tree (Eugenia malaccensis), almost
exclude the few rays of light that find their way down into this
secluded nook. A little farther on, and the graceful bamboo sends up its
slender stalk to a great height, mingling its dark, glossy foliage with
the silvery leaves of the kukui, or candle-nut (Aleurites moluccana);
these together form a striking contrast to the black walls which rise in
such sullen grandeur on each side.
Kuumana,
the Rain God of Kau
Nor is the beauty of the spot confined to
the luxuriant verdure, or the stupendous walls and beetling crags. The
stream itself is beautiful. From the basin at the falls to the lowest
point at which we observed it, every succeeding step presents a
delightful change. Here, its partially confined waters burst forth with
considerable force, and struggle on among the opposing rocks for some
distance; there, collected in a little basin, its limpid waves, pure as
the drops of dew from the womb of the morning, circle round in ceaseless
eddies, until they get within the influence of the downward current,
when away they whirl, with a gurgling, happy sound, as if joyous at
being released from their temporary confinement. Again, an aged kukui,
whose trunk is white with the moss of accumulated years, throws his
broad boughs far over the stream that nourishes his vigorous roots,
casting a meridian shadow upon the surface of the water, which is
reflected back with singular distinctness from its mirrored bosom.
To every other gratification must be added
the incomparable fragrance of the fresh wood, in perpetual life and
vigor, which presents a freshness truly grateful to the senses. But it
is in vain to think of conveying an adequate idea of a scene where the
sublime is mingled with the beautiful, and the bold and striking with
the delicate and sensitive; where every sense is gratified, the mind
calmed, and the whole soul delighted.
Famed as this spot is for its natural scenic
attractions, intimated in the foregoing description, its claim of
distinction with Hawaiians is indelibly fixed by the traditions of
ancient times, the narration of which, at this point, will assist the
reader to understand the character of the native mind and throw some
light also on the history of the Hawaiians.
Nor is the beauty of the spot confined to
the luxuriant verdure, or the stupendous walls and beetling crags. The
stream itself is beautiful. From the basin at the falls to the lowest
point at which we observed it, every succeeding step presents a
delightful change. Here, its partially confined waters burst forth with
considerable force, and struggle on among the opposing rocks for some
distance; there, collected in a little basin, its limpid waves, pure as
the drops of dew from the womb of the morning, circle round in ceaseless
eddies, until they get within the influence of the downward current,
when away they whirl, with a gurgling, happy sound, as if joyous at
being released from their temporary confinement. Again, an aged kukui,
whose trunk is white with the moss of accumulated years, throws his
broad boughs far over the stream that nourishes his vigorous roots,
casting a meridian shadow upon the surface of the water, which is
reflected back with singular distinctness from its mirrored bosom.
To every other gratification must be added
the incomparable fragrance of the fresh wood, in perpetual life and
vigor, which presents a freshness truly grateful to the senses. But it
is in vain to think of conveying an adequate idea of a scene where the
sublime is mingled with the beautiful, and the bold and striking with
the delicate and sensitive; where every sense is gratified, the mind
calmed, and the whole soul delighted.
Famed as this spot is for its natural scenic
attractions, intimated in the foregoing description, its claim of
distinction with Hawaiians is indelibly fixed by the traditions of
ancient times, the narration of which, at this point, will assist the
reader to understand the character of the native mind and throw some
light also on the history of the Hawaiians.
Tradition in this locality deals largely
with Kamapuaa, the famous demigod whose exploits figure prominently in
the legends of the entire group. Summarized, the story is about as
follows:
Kamapuaa, the fabulous being referred to,
seems, according to the tradition, to have possessed the power of
transforming himself into a hog, in which capacity he committed all
manner of depredations upon the possessions of his neighbors. He having
stolen some fowls belonging to Olopana, who was the King of Oahu, the
latter, who was then living at Kaneohe, sent some of his men to secure
the thief. They succeeded in capturing him, and having tied him fast
with cords, were bearing him in triumph to the King, when, thinking they
had carried the joke far enough, he burst the bands with which he was
bound, and killed all the men except one, whom he permitted to convey
the tidings to the King. This defeat so enraged the monarch that he
determined to go in person with all his force, and either destroy his
enemy, or drive him from his dominions. He accordingly, despising ease
inglorious,
Waked up, with sound of conch and trumpet
shell,
The well-tried warriors of his native dell,
at whose head he sought his waiting enemy. Success attending the King’s
attack, his foe was driven from the field with great loss, and betook
himself to the gorge of Kaliuwaa, which leads to the falls. Here the
King thought he had him safe; and one would think so too, to look at the
immense precipices that rise on each side, and the falls in front. But
the sequel will show that he had a slippery fellow to deal with, at
least when he chose to assume the character of a swine; for, being
pushed to the upper end of the gorge near the falls, and seeing no other
way of escape, he suddenly transformed himself into a hog, and, rearing
upon his hind legs and leaning his back against the perpendicular
precipice, thus afforded a very comfortable ladder upon which the
remnant of the army ascended and made their escape from the vengeance of
the King. Possessing such powers, it is easy to see how he could follow
the example of his soldiers and make his own escape. The smooth channels
before described are said to have been made by him on these occasions;
for he was more than once caught in the same predicament. Old natives
still believe that they are the prints of his back; and they account for
a very natural phenomenon, by bringing to their aid this most natural
and foolish superstition.
Many objects in the neighborhood are
identified with this remarkable personage, such as a large rock to which
he was tied, a wide place in the brook where he used to drink, and a
number of trees he is said to have planted. Many other things respecting
him are current, but as they do not relate to the matter in hand, it
will perhaps suffice to say, in conclusion, that tradition further
asserts that Kamapuaa conquered the volcano, when Pele its goddess
became his wife, and that they afterward lived together in harmony. That
is the reason why there are no more islands formed, or very extensive
eruptions in these later days, as boiling lava was the most potent
weapon she used in fighting her enemies, throwing out such quantities as
greatly to increase the size of the islands, and even to form new ones.
Visitors to the falls, even to this day,
meet with evidences of the superstitious awe in which the locality is
held by the natives. A party who recently visited the spot state that
when they reached the falls they were instructed to make an offering to
the presiding goddess. This was done in true Hawaiian style; they built
a tiny pile of stones on one or two large leaves, and so made themselves
safe from falling stones, which otherwise would assuredly have struck
them. Back to Contents
Battle of the Owls, Jos.
M. Poepoe
The following is a fair specimen of the
animal myths current in ancient Hawaii, and illustrates the place held
by the owl in Hawaiian mythology.
There lived a man named Kapoi, at Kahehuna,
in Honolulu, who went one day to Kewalo to get some thatching for his
house. On his way back he found some owl’s eggs, which he gathered
together and brought home with him. In the evening he wrapped them in ti
leaves and was about to roast them in hot ashes, when an owl perched on
the fence which surrounded his house and called out to him, “O Kapoi,
give me my eggs!”
Kapoi asked the owl, “How many eggs had
you?”
“Seven eggs,” replied the owl.
Kapoi then said, “Well, I wish to roast
these eggs for my supper.”
The owl asked the second time for its eggs,
and was answered by Kapoi in the same manner. Then said the owl, “O
heartless Kapoi! why don’t you take pity on me? Give me my eggs.”
Kapoi then told the owl to come and take
them.
The owl, having got the eggs, told Kapoi to
build up a heiau, or temple, and instructed him to make an [201]altar
with tikisand call the temple by the name of Manua. Kapoi built the
temple as directed; set kapu days for its dedication, and placed the
customary sacrifice on the altar.
News spread to the hearing of Kakuihewa, who
was then King of Oahu, living at the time at Waikiki, that a certain man
had kapued certain days for his heiau, and had already dedicated it.
This King had made a law that whoever among his people should erect a
heiau and kapu the same before the King had his temple kapued, that man
should pay the penalty of death. Kapoi was thereupon seized, by the
King’s orders, and led to the heiau of Kupalaha, at Waikiki.
That same day, the owl that had told Kapoi
to erect a temple gathered all the owls from Lanai, Maui, Molokai, and
Hawaii to one place at Kalapueo.(1) All those from the Koolau districts
were assembled at Kanoniakapueo,(2) and those from Kauai and Niihau at
Pueohulunui, near Moanalua.
It was decided by the King that Kapoi should
be put to death on the day of Kane.(3) When that day came, at daybreak
the owls left their places of rendezvous and covered the whole sky over
Honolulu; and as the King’s servants seized Kapoi to put him to death,
the owls flew at them, pecking them with their beaks and scratching them
with their claws. Then and there was fought the battle between
Kakuihewa’s people and the owls. At last the owls conquered, and Kapoi
was released, the King acknowledging that his Akua (god) was a powerful
one. From that time the owl has been recognized as one of the many
deities venerated by the Hawaiian people.
1 Situated beyond Diamond Head.
2 In Nuuanu Valley.
3 When the moon is twenty-seven days
old.
Back to Contents
This Land is the
Sea’s, Traditional Account of an Ancient Hawaiian Prophecy,
Translated from Moke Manu by Thos. G. Thrum
It is stated in the history of Kaopulupulu
that he was famed among the kahunas of the island of Oahu for his power
and wisdom in the exercise of his profession, and was known throughout
the land as a leader among the priests. His place of residence was at
Waimea, between Koolauloa and Waialua, Oahu. There he married, and there
was born to him a son whom he named Kahulupue, and whom he instructed
during his youth in all priestly vocations.
In after years when Kumahana, brother of
Kahahana of Maui, became the governing chief (alii aimoku) of Oahu,
Kahulupue was chosen by him as his priest. This chief did evil unto his
subjects, seizing their property and beheading and maiming many with the
leiomano (shark’s tooth weapon) and pahoa (dagger), without provocation,
so that he became a reproach to his people. From such treatment
Kahulupue endeavored to dissuade him, assuring him that such a course
would fail to win their support and obedience, whereas the supplying of
food and fish, with covering for the body, and malos, would insure their
affectionate regard. The day of the people was near, for the time of
conflict was approaching when he would meet the enemy. But these
counsels of Kahulupue were disregarded, so he returned to his father at
Waimea.
Not long thereafter this chief Kumahana was
cast out and rejected by the lesser chiefs and people, and under cover
of night he escaped by canoe to Molokai, where he was ignored and became
lost to further history in consequence of his wrong-doings.
When Kahekili, King of Maui, heard of the
stealthy flight of the governing chief of Oahu, he placed the young
prince Kahahana, his foster-son, as ruler over Oahu in the place of his
deposed relative, Kumahana. This occurred about the year 1773, and
Kahahana took with him as his intimate friend and companion one Alapai.
Kahahana chose as his place of residence the shade of the kou and
cocoanut trees of Ulukou, Waikiki, where also gathered together the
chiefs of the island to discuss and consider questions of state.
The new ruler being of fine and stalwart
form and handsome appearance, the chiefs and common people maintained
that his fame in this respect induced a celebrated chieftainess of
Kauai, named Kekuapoi, to voyage hither. Her history, it is said, showed
that she alone excelled in maiden charm and beauty; she was handsome
beyond all other chieftainesses from Hawaii to Kauai, as “the third
brightness of the sun” (he ekolu ula o ka la). In consequence, Kahahana
took her as his wife, she being own sister to Kekuamanoha.
At this time the thought occurred to the
King to inquire through the chiefs of Oahu of the whereabouts of
Kaopulupulu, the celebrated priest, of whom he had heard through
Kahekili, King of Maui. In reply to this inquiry of Kahahana, the chiefs
told him that his place of residence was at Waimea, whereupon a
messenger was sent to bid him come up by order of the King. When the
messenger reached Kaopulupulu he delivered the royal order. Upon the
priest hearing this word of the King he assented thereto, with this
reply to the messenger: “You return first and tell him that on the
morning after the fourteenth night of the moon (po o akua), I will reach
the place of the King.”
At the end of the conference the messenger
returned and stood before Kahahana and revealed the words of Kaopulupulu;
and the King waited for the time of his arrival.
It is true, Kaopulupulu made careful
preparation for his future. Toward the time of his departure he was
engaged in considering the good or evil of his approaching journey by
the casting of lots, according to the rites of his profession. He
foresaw thereby the purpose of the King in summoning him to dwell at
court. He therefore admonished his son to attend to all the rites and
duties of the priesthood as he had been taught, and to care for his
mother and relatives.
At early dawn Kaopulupulu arose and partook
of food till satisfied, after which he prepared himself for the journey
before him. After he had given his farewell greetings to his household
he seized his bundle and, taking a cocoanut fan in his hand, set out
toward Punanue, where was a temple (heiau) for priests only, called
Kahokuwelowelo. This was crown land at Waialua in ancient times.
Entering the temple he prayed for success in his journey, after which he
proceeded along the plains of Lauhulu till reaching the Anahulu stream,
thence by Kemoo to Kukaniloko, the shelter of whose prominent rock the
chieftainesses of Oahu were wont to choose for their place of
confinement.
Leaving this place he came to Kalakoa, where
Kekiopilo the prophet priest lived and died, and the scene of his vision
at high noon when he prophesied of the coming of foreigners with a
strange language. Here he stopped and rested with some of the people,
and ate food with them, after which he journeyed on by way of Waipio by
the ancient path of that time till he passed Ewa and reached Kapukaki.
The sun was well up when he reached the
water of Lapakea, so he hastened his steps in ascending Kauwalua, at
Moanalua, and paused not till he came to the mouth of the Apuakehau
stream at Waikiki. Proceeding along the sand at this place he was
discerned by the retainers of the King and greeted with the shout, “Here
comes the priest Kaopulupulu.”
When the King heard this he was exceedingly
pleased (pihoihoi loa) at the time, and on the priest’s meeting with
King Kahahana he welcomed Kaopulupulu with loud rejoicing.
Without delay the King set apart a house
wherein to meet and discuss with the priest those things he had in mind,
and in the consideration of questions from first to last, Kaopulupulu
replied with great wisdom in accordance with his knowledge of his
profession. At this time of their conference he sat within the doorway
of the house, and the sun was near its setting. As he turned to observe
this he gazed out into the sky and noticing the gathering short clouds (ao
poko) in the heavens, he exclaimed:
“O heaven, the road is broad for the King,
it is full of chiefs and people; narrow is my path, that of the kahuna;
you will not be able to find it, O King. Even now the short clouds
reveal to me the manner of your reign; it will not be many days. Should
you heed my words, O King, you will live to gray hair. But you will be
the king to slay me and my child.”
At these words of the priest the King
meditated seriously for some time, then spoke as follows: “Why should my
days be short, and why should your death be by me, the King?”
Kaopulupulu replied: “O King, let us look
into the future. Should you die, O King, the lands will be desolate; but
for me, the kahuna, the name will live on from one generation to
another; but my death will be before thine, and when I am up on the
heaven-feared altar then my words will gnaw thee, O King, and the rains
and the sun will bear witness.”
These courageous words of Kaopulupulu,
spoken in the presence of Kahahana without fear, and regardless of the
dignity and majesty of the King, were uttered because of the certainty
that the time would come when his words would be carried into effect.
The King remained quiet without saying a word, keeping his thoughts to
himself.
After this conference the King took
Kaopulupulu to be his priest, and in course of time he became also an
intimate companion, in constant attendance upon the King, and counselled
him in the care of his subjects, old and young, in all that pertained to
their welfare. The King regarded his words, and in their circuit of the
island together they found the people contented and holding their ruler
in high esteem. But at the end of three years the King attempted some
wrong to certain of his subjects like unto that of his deposed
predecessor. The priest remonstrated with him continually, but he would
not regard his counsel; therefore, Kaopulupulu left King Kahahana and
returned to his land at Waimea and at once tattooed his knees. This was
done as a sign that the King had turned a deaf ear to his admonitions.
When several days had passed, rumors among
certain people of Waialua reached the priest that he was to be summoned
to appear before the King in consequence of this act, which had greatly
angered his august lord. Kahahana had gone to reside at Waianae, and
from there shortly afterward he sent messengers to fetch Kaopulupulu and
his son Kahulupue from Waimea.
In the early morning of the day of the
messenger’s arrival, a rainbow stood directly in the doorway of
Kaopulupulu’s house, and he asked of his god its meaning; but his prayer
was broken (ua haki ka pule). This boded him ill; therefore he called to
his son to stand in prayer; but the result was the same. Then he said,
“This augurs of the day of death; see! the rising up of a man in the
pass of Hapuu, putting on his kapa with its knot fastening on the left
side of the neck, which means that he is bringing a death message.”
Shortly after the priest had ended these
words a man was indeed seen approaching along the mountain pass, with
his kapa as indicated; and he came and stood before the door of their
house and delivered the order of the King for them to go to Waianae,
both him and his son.
The priest replied: “Return you first; we
will follow later,” and the messenger obeyed. When he had departed
Kaopulupulu recalled to his son the words he had spoken before the
advent of the messenger, and said: “Oh, where are you, my child? Go
clothe the body; put on the malo; eat of the food till satisfied, and we
will go as commanded by the King; but this journey will result in
placing us on the altar (kau i ka lele). Fear not death. The name of an
idler, if he be beaten to death, is not passed on to distinction.”
At the end of these words of his father,
Kahulupue wept for love of his relatives, though his father bid him to
weep not for his family, because he, Kaopulupulu, saw the end that would
befall the King, Kahahana, and his court of chiefs and retainers. Even
at this time the voices of distress were heard among his family and
their tears flowed, but Kaopulupulu looked on unmoved by their cries.
He then arose and, with his son, gave
farewell greetings to their household, and set forth. In journeying they
passed through Waialua, resting in the house of a kamaaina at Kawaihapai.
In passing the night at this place Kahulupue slept not, but went out to
examine the fishing canoes of that neighborhood. Finding a large one
suitable for a voyage, he returned and awoke his father, that they might
flee together that night to Kauai and dwell on the knoll of Kalalea. But
Kaopulupulu declined the idea of flight. In the morning, ascending a
hill, they turned and looked back over the sea-spray of Waialua to the
swimming halas of Kahuku beyond. Love for the place of his birth so
overcame Kaopulupulu for a time that his tears flowed for that he should
see it no more.
Then they proceeded on their way till,
passing Kaena Point, they reached the temple of Puaakanoe. At this
sacred boundary Kaopulupulu said to his son, “Let us swim in the sea and
touch along the coast of Makua.” At one of their resting-places,
journeying thus, he said, with direct truthfulness, as his words proved:
“Where are you, my son? For this drenching of the high priests by the
sea, seized will be the sacred lands (moo-kapu) from Waianae to Kualoa
by the chief from the east"
A Tiki Hut
of the Olden Time
As they were talking they beheld the King’s
men approaching along the sand of Makua, and shortly afterward these men
came before them and seized them and tied their hands behind their backs
and took them to the place of King Kahahana at Puukea, Waianae, and put
them, father and son, in a new grass hut unfinished of its ridge thatch,
and tied them, the one to the end post (pouhana) and the other to the
corner post (poumanu) of the house.
At the time of the imprisonment of the
priest and his son in this new house Kaopulupulu spake aloud, without
fear of dire consequences, so that the King and all his men heard him,
as follows: “Here I am with my son in this new unfinished house; so will
be unfinished the reign of the King that slays us.” At this saying
Kahahana, the King, was very angry.
Throughout that day and the night following,
till the sun was high with warmth, the King was directing his soldiers
to seize Kahulupue first and put him to death. Obeying the orders of the
King, they took Kahulupue just outside of the house and stabbed at his
eyes with laumake spears and stoned him with stones before the eyes of
his father, with merciless cruelty. These things, though done by the
soldiers, were dodged by Kahulupue, and the priest, seeing the King had
no thought of regard for his child, spoke up with priestly authority, as
follows: “Be strong of breath, my son, till the body touch the water,
for the land indeed is the sea’s.”
When Kahulupue heard the voice of his father
telling him to flee to the sea, he turned toward the shore in obedience
to these last words to him, because of the attack by the soldiers of the
King. As he ran, he was struck in the back by a spear, but he persevered
and leaped into the sea at Malae and was drowned, his blood discoloring
the water. His dead body was taken and placed up in the temple at
Puehuehu. After the kapu days therefore the King, with his chiefs and
soldiers, moved to Puuloa, Ewa, bringing with them the priest
Kaopulupulu, and after some days he was brought before the King by the
soldiers, and without groans for his injuries was slain in the King’s
presence. But he spoke fearlessly of the vengeance that would fall upon
the King in consequence of his death, and during their murderous attack
upon him proclaimed with his dying breath: “You, O King, that kill me
here at Puuloa, the time is near when a direct death will be yours.
Above here in this land, and the spot where my lifeless body will be
borne and placed high on the altar for my flesh to decay and slip to the
earth, shall be the burial place of chiefs and people hereafter, and it
shall be called ‘the royal sand of the mistaken’; there will you be
placed in the temple.” At the end of these words of Kaopulupulu his
spirit took flight, and his body was left for mockery and abuse, as had
been that of his son in the sea of Malae, at Waianae.
After a while the body of the priest was
placed on a double canoe and brought to Waikiki and placed high in the
cocoanut trees at Kukaeunahi, the place of the temple, for several
ten-day periods (he mau anahulu) without decomposition and falling off
of the flesh to the sands of Waikiki.
When King Kahekili of Maui heard of the
death of the priest Kaopulupulu by Kahahana, he sent some of his men
thither by canoe, who landed at Waimanalo, Koolau, where, as spies, they
learned from the people respecting Kaopulupulu and his death, with that
of his son; therefore they returned and told the King the truth of these
reports, at which the affection of Kahekili welled up for the dead
priest, and he condemned the King he had established. Coming with an
army from Maui, he landed at Waikiki without meeting Kahahana, and took
back the government of Oahu under his own kingship. The chiefs and
people of Oahu all joined under Kahekili, for Kahahana had been a chief
of wrong-doing. This was the first sea of Kaopulupulu in accordance with
his prophetic utterance to his son, “This land is the sea’s.”
Upon the arrival here at Oahu of Kahekili,
Kahahana fled, with his wife Kekuapoi, and friend Alapai, and hid in the
shrubbery of the hills. They went to Aliomanu, Moanalua, to a place
called Kinimakalehua; then moved along to Keanapuaa and Kepookala, at
the lochs of Puuloa, and from there to upper Waipoi; thence to Wahiawa,
Helemano, and on to Lihue; thence they came to Poohilo, at Honouliuli,
where they first showed themselves to the people and submitted
themselves to their care.
While they were living there, report thereof
was made to Kahekili, the King, who thereupon sent Kekuamanoha, elder
brother of Kekuapoi, the wife of Kahahana, with men in double canoes
from Waikiki, landing first at Kupahu, Hanapouli, Waipio, with
instructions to capture and put to death Kahahana, as also his friend
Alapai, but to save alive Kekuapoi. When the canoes touched at Hanapouli,
they proceeded thence to Waikele and Hoaeae, and from there to Poohilo,
Honouliuli, where they met in conference with Kahahana and his party. At
the close of the day Kekuamanoha sought by enticing words to induce his
brother-in-law to go up with him and see the father King and be assured
of no death condemnation, and by skilled flattery he induced Kahahana to
consent to his proposition; whereupon preparation was made for the
return. On the following morning, coming along and reaching the plains
of Hoaeae, they fell upon and slew Kahahana and Alapai there, and bore
their lifeless bodies to Halaulani, Waipio, where they were placed in
the canoes and brought up to Waikiki and placed up in the cocoanut trees
by King Kahekili and his priests from Maui, as Kaopulupulu had been.
Thus was fulfilled the famous saying of the Oahu priest in all its
truthfulness.
According to the writings of S. M. Kamakau
and David Malo, recognized authorities, the thought of Kaopulupulu as
expressed to his son Kahulupue, “This land is the sea’s,” was in keeping
with the famous prophetic vision of Kekiopilo that “the foreigners
possess the land,” as the people of Hawaii now realize. The weighty
thought of this narration and the application of the saying of
Kaopulupulu to this time of enlightenment are frequent with certain
leaders of thought among the people, as shown in their papers.
Back to Contents
Ku-ula, the Fish God of
Hawaii, Translated from Moke Manu by M. K. Nakuina
The story of Ku-ula, considered by ancient
Hawaiians as the deity presiding over and controlling the fish of the
sea,—a story still believed by many of them to-day,—is translated and
somewhat condensed from an account prepared by a recognized legendary
bard of these islands. The name of Ku-ula is known from the ancient
times on each of the islands of the Hawaiian group, and the writer gives
the Maui version as transmitted through the old people of that island.
Ku-ula had a human body, and was possessed
with wonderful or miraculous power (mana kupua) in directing,
controlling, and influencing all fish of the sea, at will.
Leho-ula, in the land of Aleamai, Hana,
Maui, is where Ku-ula and Hina-pu-ku-ia lived. Nothing is known of their
parents, but tradition deals with Ku-ula, his wife, their son Ai-ai, and
Ku-ula-uka, a younger brother of Ku-ula. These lived together for a time
at Leho-ula, and then the brothers divided their work between them, Ku-ula-uka
choosing farm work, or work pertaining to the land, from the seashore to
the mountain-top, while Ku-ula—known also as Ku-ula-kai—chose to be a
fisherman, with such other work as pertained to the sea, from the pebbly
shore to ocean depths. After this division Ku-ula-uka went up in the
mountains to live, and met a woman known as La-ea—called also Hina-ulu-ohia—a
sister of Hina-pu-ku-ia, Ku-ula’s wife. These sisters had three
brothers, named Moku-ha-lii, Kupa-ai-kee, and Ku-pulu-pulu-i-ka-na-hele.
This trio were called by the old people the gods of the canoe-making
priests—“Na akua aumakua o ka poe kahuna kalai waa.”
While Ku-ula and his wife were living at
Leho-ula he devoted all his time to his chosen vocation, fishing.
His first work was to construct a fish-pond handy to his house but near
to the shore where the surf breaks, and this pond he stocked with all
kinds of fish. Upon a rocky platform he also built a house to be sacred
for the fishing kapu which he called by his own name, Ku-ula.
It is asserted that when Ku-ula made all
these preparations he believed in the existence of a God who had supreme
power over all things. That is why he prepared this place wherein to
make his offerings of the first fish caught by him to the fish god. From
this observance of Ku-ula all the fish were tractable (laka loa) unto
him; all he had to do was to say the word, and the fish would appear.
This was reported all over Hana and when Kamohaolii, the King (who was
then living at Wananalua, the land on which Kauiki Hill stands) heard of
it, he appointed Ku-ula to be his head fisherman. Through this pond,
which was well stocked with all kinds of fish, the King’s table was
regularly supplied with all rare varieties, whether in or out of season.
Ku-ula was his mainstay for fish-food and was consequently held in high
esteem by Kamohoalii, and they lived without disagreement of any kind
between them for many years.
During this period the wife of Ku-ula gave
birth to a son, whom they called Aiai-a-Ku-ula (Aiai of Ku-ula), The
child was properly brought up according to the usage of those days, and
when he was old enough to care for himself an unusual event occurred.
A large puhi (eel), called Koona, lived at
Wailau, on the windward side of the island of Molokai. This eel was
deified and prayed to by the people of that place, and they never tired
telling of the mighty things their god did, one of which was that a big
shark came to Wailau and gave it battle, and during the fight the puhi
caused a part of the rocky cliff to fall upon the shark, which killed
it. A cave was thus formed, with a depth of about five fathoms; and that
large opening is there to this day, situate a little above the sea and
close to the rocky fort where lived the well known Kapeepeekauila. This
puhi then left its own place and came and lived in a cave in the sea
near Aleamai, called Kapukaulua, some distance out from the Alau rocks.
It came to break and rob the pond that Ku-ula had built and stocked with
fish of various kinds and colors, as known to-day.
Ku-ula was much surprised on discovering his
pond stock disappearing, so he watched day and night, and at last, about
daybreak, he saw a large eel come in through the makai (seaward) wall of
the pond. When he saw this he knew that it was the cause of the loss of
his fish, and was devising a way to catch and kill it; but on consulting
with his wife they decided to leave the matter to their son Aiai, for
him to use his own judgment as to the means by which the thief might be
captured and killed. When Aiai was told of it he sent word to all the
people of Aleamai and Haneoo to make ili hau ropes several lau fathoms
in length; and when all was ready a number of the people went out with
it in two canoes, one each from the two places, with Aiai-a-Ku-ula in
one of them. He put two large stones in his canoe and held in his hands
a fisherman’s gourd (hokeo), in which was a large fishhook called
manaiaakalani.
When the canoes had proceeded far out he
located his position by landmarks; and looking down into the sea, and
finding the right place, he told the paddlers to cease paddling.
Standing up in the canoe and taking one of the stones in his hands he
dived into the sea. Its weight took him down rapidly to the bottom,
where he saw a big cave opening right before him, with a number of
fishes scurrying about the entrance, such as uluas and other deep sea
varieties. Feeling assured thereby that the puhi was within, he arose to
the surface and got into his canoe. Resting for a moment, he then opened
the gourd and took out the hook manaiaakalani and tied the hau rope to
it. He also picked up a long stick and placed at the end of it the hook,
baited with a preparation of cocoanut and other substances attractive to
fishes. Before taking his second dive he arranged with those on the
canoe as to the signs to them of his success. Saying this, he picked up
the other stone and dived down again into the sea; then, proceeding to
the cave, he placed the hook in it, at the same time murmuring a few
incantations in the name of his parents. When he knew that the puhi was
hooked he signalled, as planned, to tell those on the canoe of his
success. In a short while he came to the surface, and entering the canoe
they all returned to shore, trailing the rope behind. He told those in
the canoe from Haneoo to paddle thither and to Hamoa, and to tell all
the people to pull the puhi; like instructions were given those on the
Aleamai canoe for their people. The two canoes set forth on their
courses to the landings, keeping in mind Aiai’s instructions, which were
duly carried out by the people of the two places; and there were many
for the work.
Then Aiai ascended Kaiwiopele Hill and
motioned to the people of both places to pull the ropes attached to the
hook on the mouth of the puhi. It was said that the Aleamai people won
the victory over the much greater number from the other places, by
landing the puhi on the pahoehoe stones at Lehoula. The people
endeavored to kill the prize, but without success till Aiai came and
threw three ala stones at it and killed it. The head was cut off and
cooked in the imu (oven). The bones of its jaw, with the mouth wide
open, are seen to this day at a place near the shore, washed by the
waves,—the rock formation at a short distance having such a resemblance.
Residents of the place state that all ala
stones near where the imu was made in which the puhi was baked do not
crack when heated, as they do elsewhere, because of the imu heating of
that time. It is so even to this day. The backbone (iwi kuamoo) of this
puhi is still lying on the pahoehoe where Aiai killed it with the three
ala stones,—the rocky formation, about thirty feet in length, exactly
resembling the backbone of an eel. The killing of this puhi by Aiai gave
him fame among the people of Hana. Its capture was the young lad’s first
attempt to follow his father’s vocation, and his knowledge was a
surprise to the people.
After this event a man came over from Waiiau,
Molokai, who was a kahu (keeper) of the puhi. He dreamed one night that
he saw its spirit, which told him that his aumakua (god) had been killed
at Hana, so he came to see with his own eyes where this had occurred.
Arriving at Wananalua he was befriended by one of the retainers of
Kamohoalii, the King of Hana, and lived there a long time serving under
him, during which time he learned the story of how the puhi had been
caught and killed by Aiai, the son of Ku-ula and Hinapukuia, whereupon
he sought to accomplish their death.
Considering a plan of action, he went one
day to Ku-ula, without orders, and told him that the King had sent him
for fish for the King. Ku-ula gave him but one fish, an ulua, with a
warning direction, saying, “Go back to the King and tell him to cut off
the head of the fish and cook it in the imu, and the flesh of its body
cut up and salt and dry in the sun, for ‘this is Hana the aupehu land;
Hana of the scarce fish; the fish Kama; the fish of Lanakila.’ (Eia o
Hana la he aina aupehu; o Hana keia i ka ia iki; ka ia o Kama; ka ia o
Lanakila).”
When the man returned to the King and gave
him the fish, the King asked: “Who gave it to you?” and the man
answered: “Ku-ula.”
Then it came into his head that this was his
chance for revenge, so he told the King what Ku-ula had said but not in
the same way, saying: “Your head fisherman told me to come back and tell
you that your head should be cut from your body and cooked in the imu,
and the flesh of your body should be cut up and salted and dried in the
sun.”
The King on hearing this message was so
angered with Ku-ula, his head fisherman, that he told the man to go and
tell all his konohikis (head men of lands with others under them) and
people, to go up in the mountains and gather immediately plenty of
firewood and place it around Ku-ula’s house, for he and his wife and
child should be burned up.
This order of the King was carried out by
the konohikis and people of all his lands except those of Aleamai. These
latter did not obey this order of the King, for Ku-ula had always lived
peaceably among them. There were days when they had no fish, and he had
supplied them freely.
When Ku-ula and his wife saw the people of
Hana bringing firewood and placing it around the house they knew it
foreboded trouble; so Ku-ula went to a place where taro, potatoes,
bananas, cane, and some gourds were growing. Seeing three dry gourds on
the vine, he asked the owner for them and was told to take them. These
he took to his house and discussed with his wife the evil day to come,
and told Aiai that their house would be burned and their bodies too, but
not to fear death nor trouble himself about it when the people came to
shut them in.
After some thinking Ku-ula remembered his
giving the ulua to the King’s retainer and felt that he was the party to
blame for this action of the King’s people. He had suspected it before,
but now felt sure; therefore he turned to his son and said: “Our child,
Aiai-a-Ku-ula, if our house is burned, and our bodies too, you must look
sharp for the smoke when it goes straight up to the hill of Kaiwiopele.
That will be your way out of this trouble, and you must follow it till
you find a cave where you will live. You must take this hook called
manaiaakalani with you; also this fish-pearl (pa hi aku), called Kahuoi;
this shell called lehoula, and this small sandstone from which I got the
name they call me, Ku-ula-au-a-Ku-ulakai. It is the progenitor of all
the fish in the sea. You will be the one to make all the ku-ulas from
this time forth, and have charge also of making all the fishing stations
(ko’a lawaia) in the sea throughout the islands. Your name shall be
perpetuated and those of your parents also, through all generations to
come, and I hereby confer upon you all my power and knowledge. Whenever
you desire anything call, or ask, in our names, and we will grant it. We
will stand up and go forth from here into the sea and abide there
forever; and you, our child, shall live on the land here without
worrying about anything that may happen to you. You will have power to
punish with death all those who have helped to burn us and our house.
Whether it be king or people, they must die; therefore let us calmly
await the calamity that is to befall us.”
All these instructions Aiai consented to
carry out from first to last, as a dutiful son.
After Ku-ula’s instructions to his son,
consequent upon the manifestations of coming trouble, the King’s people
came one day and caught them and tied their hands behind their backs,
the evil-doer from Molokai being there to aid in executing the cruel
orders of Kamohoalii resulting from his deceitful story. Upon being
taken into their house Ku-ula was tied to the end post of the ridge pole
(pouhana), the wife was tied to the middle post (kai waena) of the
house, and the boy, Aiai, was tied to one of the corner posts (pou o
manu). Upon fastening them in this manner the people went out of the
house and barricaded the doorway with wood, which they then set on fire.
Before the fire was lit, the ropes with which the victims were tied
dropped off from their hands. Men, women, and children looked on at the
burning house with deep pity for those within, and tears were streaming
down their cheeks as they remembered the kindness of Ku-ula during all
the time they had lived together. They knew not why this family and
their house should be burned in this manner.
When the fire was raging all about the house
and the flames were consuming everything, Ku-ula and his wife gave their
last message to their son and left him. They went right out of the house
as quietly as the last breath leaves the body, and none of the people
standing there gazing saw where, or how, Ku-ula and his wife came forth
out of the house. Aiai was the only one that retained material form.
Their bodies were changed by some miraculous power and entered the sea,
taking with them all the fish swimming in and around Hana. They also
took all sea-mosses, crabs, crawfish, and the various kinds of shellfish
along the seashore, even to the opihi-koele at the rocky beach; every
edible thing in the sea was taken away. This was the first stroke of Ku-ula’s
revenge on the King and the people of Hana who obeyed his mandate; they
suffered greatly from the scarcity of fish.
When Ku-ula and his wife were out of the
house the three gourds exploded from the heat, one by one, and all those
who were gazing at the burning house believed the detonations indicated
the bursting of the bodies of Ku-ula, his wife, and child. The flames
shot up through the top of the house, and the black smoke hovered above
it, then turned toward the front of Kaiwiopele Hill. The people saw Aiai
ascend through the flames and walk upon the smoke toward the hill till
he came to a small cave that opened to receive and rescue him.
As Aiai left the house it burned fiercely,
and, carrying out the instructions of his father he called upon him to
destroy by fire all those who had caught and tied them in their burning
house. As he finished his appeal he saw the rippling of the wind on the
sea and a misty rain coming with it, increasing as it came till it
reached Lehoula, which so increased the blazing of the fire that the
flames reached out into the crowd of people for those who had obeyed the
King. The man from Molokai, who was the cause of the trouble, was
reached also and consumed by the fire, and the charred bodies were left
to show to the people the second stroke of Ku-ula’s vengeance. Strange
to say, all those who had nothing to do with this cruel act, though
closer to the burning house, were uninjured; the tongues of fire reached
out only for the guilty ones. In a little while but a few smouldering
logs and ashes were all that remained of the house of Ku-ula. Owing to
this strange action of the fire some of the people doubted the death of
Ku-ula and his wife, and much disputation arose among them on the
subject.
When Aiai walked out through the flames and
smoke and reached the cave, he stayed there through that night till the
next morning, then, leaving his hook, pearl shell, and stone there, he
went forth till he came to the road at Puilio, where he met several
children amusing themselves by shooting arrows, one of whom made friends
with him and asked him to his house. Aiai accepted the invitation, and
the boy and his parents treating him well, he remained with them for
some days.
While Aiai was living in their house the
parents of the boy heard of the King’s order for all the people of Hana
to go fishing for hinalea. The people obeyed the royal order, but when
they went down to the shore with their fishing baskets they looked
around for the usual bait (ueue), which was to be pounded up and put
into the baskets, but they could not find any, nor any other material to
be so used, neither could they see any fish swimming around in the sea.
“Why?” was the question. Because Ku-ula and his wife had taken with them
all the fish and everything pertaining to fishing. Finding no bait they
pounded up limestone and placed it in the baskets and swam out and set
them in the sea. They watched and waited all day, but in vain, for not a
single hinalea was seen, nor did any enter the baskets. When night came
they went back empty-handed and came down again the next day only to
meet the same luck. The parents of the boy who had befriended Aiai were
in this fishing party, in obedience to the King’s orders, but they got
nothing for their trouble. Aiai, seeing them go down daily to Haneoo,
asked concerning it, and was told everything; so he bade his friend come
with him to the cave where he had stayed after his father’s house was
burned. Arriving there he showed the stone fish god, Pohaku-muone, and
said: “We can get fish up here from this stone without much work or
trouble.”
Then Aiai picked up the stone and they went
down to Lehoula, and setting it down at a point facing the pond which
his father had made he repeated these words: “O Ku-ula, my father; O
Hina, my mother, I place this stone here in your name, Ku-ula, which
action will make your name famous and mine too, your son; the keeping of
this ku-ula stone I give to my friend, and he and his offspring
hereafter will do and act in all things pertaining to it in our names.”
After saying these words he told his friend
his duties and all things to be observed relative to the stone and the
benefits to be derived therefrom as an influencing power over such
variety of fish as he desired. This was the first establishment of the
ko’a ku-ula on land,—a place where the fisherman was obliged to make his
offering of the first of his catch by taking two fishes and placing them
on the ku-ula stone as an offering to Ku-ula. Thus Aiai first put in
practice the fishing oblations established by his father at the place of
his birth, in his youth, but it was accomplished only through the mana
kupua of his parents.
When Aiai had finished calling on his
parents and instructing his friend, there were seen several persons
walking along the Haneoo beach with their fishing baskets and setting
them in the sea, but catching nothing. At Aiai’s suggestion he and his
friend went over to witness this fishing effort. When they reached the
fishers Aiai asked them, “What are those things placed there for?”
They answered, “Those are baskets for
catching hinaleas, a fish that our King, Kamohoalii, longs for, but we
cannot get bait to catch the fish with.”
“Why is it so?” asked Aiai.
And they answered, “Because Ku-ula and his
family are dead, and all the fish along the beach of Hana are taken
away.”
Then Aiai asked them for two baskets. Having
received them, he bade his friend take them and follow him. They went to
a little pool near the beach, and setting the baskets therein, he called
on his parents for hinaleas. As soon as he had finished, the fish were
seen coming in such numbers as to fill the pool, and still they came.
Aiai now told his friend to go and fetch his parents and relatives to
get fish, and to bring baskets with which to take home a supply; they
should have the first pick, and the owners of the baskets should have
the next chance. The messenger went with haste and brought his relatives
as directed. Aiai then took two fishes and gave them to his friend to
place on the ko’a they had established at Lehoula for the ku-ula. He
also told him that before the setting of the sun of that day they would
hear that King Kamohoalii of Hana was dead, choked and strangled to
death by the fish. These prophetic words of Aiai came true.
Making
Ready the Feast, Tikis
After Aiai had made his offering, his
friend’s parents came to where the fish were gathering and were told to
take all they desired, which they did, returning home happy for the
liberal supply obtained without trouble. The owners of the baskets were
then called and told to take all the fish they wished for themselves and
for the King. When these people saw the great supply they were glad and
much surprised at the success of these two boys. The news of the
reappearing of the fish spread through the district, and the people
flocked in great numbers and gathered hinaleas to their satisfaction,
and returned to their homes with rejoicing. Some of those who gave Aiai
the baskets returned with their bundles of fish to the King. When he saw
so many of those he had longed for he became so excited that he reached
out and picked one up and put it in his mouth, intending to eat it; but
instead the fish slipped right into his throat and stuck there. Many
tried to reach and take it out, but were unable, and before the sun set
that day Kamohoalii, the King of Hana, died, being choked and strangled
to death by the fish. Thus the words of Aiai, the son of Ku-ula, proved
true.
By the death of the King of Hana the revenge
was complete. The evil-doer from Molokai, and those who obeyed the
King’s orders on the day Ku-ula’s house was fired, met retribution, and
Aiai thus won a victory over all his father’s enemies.
After living for a time at Hana Aiai left
that place and went among the different islands of the group
establishing fishing ko’as (ko’a aina aumakua). He was the first to
measure the depth of the sea to locate these fishing ko’as for the deep
sea fishermen who go out in their canoes, and the names of many of these
ko’as located around the different islands are well known.
Back to Contents
Aiai, Son of Ku-ula, Part
II of the Legend of Ku-ula, the Fish God of Hawaii, Translated from Moke
Manu by M. K. Nakuina
After the death of the King of Hana, Aiai
left the people of Haneoo catching hinalea and went to Kumaka, a place
where fresh water springs out from the sand and rocks near the surf of
Puhele, at Hamoa, where lay a large, long stone in the sea. This stone
he raised upright and also placed others about the water spring, and
said to his friend: “To-day I name this stone Ku-a-lanakila, for I have
triumphed over my enemies; and I hereby declare that all fishes, crabs,
and sea-moss shall return again in plenty throughout the seas of Hana,
as in the days when my parents were living in the flesh at Lehoula.”
From the time Aiai raised this stone, up to
the present generation, the story of Ku-ula and Aiai is well preserved,
and people have flocked to the place where the stone stands to see it
and verify the tradition. Some kahunas advise their suffering patients
to pay a visit to the stone, Ku-lanakila, with some offerings for relief
from their sickness and also to bathe in the spring of Kumaka and the
surf of Puhele. This was a favorite spot of the kings and chiefs of the
olden times for bathing and surf-riding, and is often referred to in the
stories and legends of Hawaii-nei. This was the first stone raised by
Aiai and established as a ku-ula at Hamoa; and the old people of Hana
attributed to its influence the return of the fish to their waters.
After Aiai’s practice of his father’s
instructions and the return of the fishes, his fame spread throughout
the district, and the people made much of him during his stay with them.
A great service wrought by Aiai during his
boyhood was the teaching of his friend and his friend’s parents how to
make the various nets for all kinds of fishing. He also taught them to
make the different kinds of fishing lines. When they were skilled in all
these branches of knowledge pertaining to fishing, he called the people
together, and in their presence declared his friend to be the head
fisherman of Hana, with full control of all the stations (ko’a ia) he
had established. This wonder-working power second to none, possessed by
Aiai, he now conferred on his friend, whereby his own name would be
perpetuated and his fame established all over the land.
The first ko’a ia (fishing ground, or
station) where Aiai measured the depth of the sea is near Aleamai, his
birthplace, and is called Kapukaulua, where he hooked and killed the eel
Koona. It is a few miles from the shore to the southeast of the rocky
islet called Alau. The second station he established was at a spot about
a mile from Haneoo and Hamoa which was for the kala, palani, nanue, puhi,
and ula. These varieties of fish are not caught by nets, or with the
hook, but in baskets which are filled with bait and let down in the deep
sea.
The third station, which he named Koauli,
was located out in the deep sea for the deep sea fishes, the depth
ranging about two hundred fathoms. This is the ko’a that fishermen have
to locate by certain shore bearings, lest a mistake be made as to the
exact spot and the bottom be found rocky and the hooks entangle in the
coral. In all the stations Aiai located there are no coral ledges where
the fisherman’s hook would catch, or the line be entangled; and old
Hawaiians commended the skill of such locations, believing that the
success of Aiai’s work was due to his father’s influence as an ocean
deity.
At one time Aiai went over to the bay of
Wananalua, the present port of Hana, with its noted hill of Kauiki and
the sandy beach of Pueokahi. Here he made and placed a ku-ula, and also
placed a fish stone in the cliff of Kauiki whereon is the ko’a known as
Makakiloia. And the people of Hana give credit to this stone for the
frequent appearance of the akule, oio, moi, and other fishes in their
waters.
Aiai’s good work did not stop at this point;
proceeding to Honomaele he picked up three pebbles at the shore and,
going into the sea, out beyond the breaking surf, he placed them there.
In due time these three pebbles gathered others together and made a
regular ridge; and when this was accomplished, the aweoweo gathered from
the far ocean to this ridge of pebbles for rest; whereupon the people
came with net, hook, and line, and caught them as they desired. The
writer witnessed this in 1845 with his own eyes. This ko’a for aweoweo
is still there, but difficult to locate, from the fact that all the old
residents are gone—either dead or moved away.
He next went over to Waiohue, Koolau, where
he placed a stone on a sharp rocky islet, called Paka, whereon a few
puhala grow. It is claimed that during the season of the kala, they come
in from the ocean, attracted to this locality by the power of this
stone. They continue on to Mokumana, a cape between Keanae and Wailuanui.
They come in gradually for two days, and on the third day of their
reaching the coast, at the pali of Ohea, is the time and place to
surround them with nets. In olden times while the fishermen were hauling
in their nets full of kala into the canoes, the akule and oio also came
in numbers at the same time, making it impossible to catch all in one
day; and as there were so many gathered in the net it took them a day
and a night before they could care for their draught, which yielded so
many more than could be made use of that they were fed to the pigs and
dogs. The kala of Ohea is noted for its fatness and fine flavor. Few
people are now living there, and the people who knew all about this are
dead; but the stone that Aiai placed on that little island at Waiohue is
still there.
Aiai stayed there a few days and then
returned to Hana and lived at his birthplace quite a length of time till
he was a man grown. During this period he was teaching his art of
fishing in all its forms; and when he was satisfied the people were
proficient, he prepared to visit other places for like service. But
before leaving, Aiai told his friend to go and kill the big hee kupua
(wonderful octopus) in the deep sea, right out of Wailuanui, Koolau, and
he consented.
When the canoes were made ready and drawn to
the beach and the people came prepared to start, Aiai brought the hokeo
(fishing gourd), where the leho (kauri shell) that Ku-ula his father
gave him was kept, and gave it to his friend. This shell is called
lehoula, and the locality at Hana of that name was called after it.
Then the canoes and people sailed away till
they got out along the palis near Kopiliula, where they rested. Aiai was
not with the party, but overlooked their operations from the pali of
Puhiai. While they rested, preparation for the lowering of the leho was
being made, and when ready, Aiai’s friend called on Ku-ula and Hina for
the assistance of their wonderful powers. When he was through, he took
off the covering of the gourd and took out the leho, which had rich
beautiful colors like the rainbow, and attaching it to the line, he
lowered it into the sea, where it sent out rays of a fiery light. The
hee was so attracted by its radiance that it came out of its hole and
with its great arms, which were as long and large as a full-grown
cocoanut tree, came up to the surface of the water and stood there like
a cocoanut grove. The men were frightened, for it approached and went
right into the canoes with the intention of destroying them and the men
and capturing the leho; but it failed, because Aiai’s friend, with his
skill and power, had provided himself with a stone, which, at the proper
time, he shoved into the head of the squid; and the weight of the stone
drew it down to the bottom of the sea and kept it there, and being
powerless to remove the stone, it died. The men seized and cut off one
of the arms, which was so big that it loaded the canoes down so that
they returned to Hana. When the squid died, it turned to stone. It is
pointed out to-day just outside of Wailuanui, where a stone formation
resembles the body of a squid and the arms, with one missing.
When Aiai saw from the pali that his friend
was successful in killing the hee, he returned to Hana unseen, and in a
short while the canoes arrived with its arm, which was divided among the
people according to the directions of Aiai.
When Aiai saw that his friend and others of
Hana were skilled in all the art of fishing, he decided to leave his
birthplace and journey elsewhere. So he called a council of his friends
and told them of his intended departure, to establish other fishing
stations and instruct the people with all the knowledge thereof in
conformity with the injunction of Ku-ula his father. They approved of
the course contemplated and expressed their indebtedness to him for all
the benefits he had shown them.
On leaving Aleamai he took with him the
fish-hook, manaiaakalani, and the fish pearl, Kahuoi, for aku from the
little cave where he had lodged on the hill of Kaiwiopele, and then
disappeared in the mysterious manner of his parents. He established
ku-ulas and ko’a aina, by placing three fish stones at various points as
far as Kipahulu. At the streams of Kikoo and Maulili there stands a
stone to-day, which was thrown by Aiai and dropped at a bend in the
waters, unmoved by the many freshets that have swept the valleys since
that time.
Out in the sea of Maulili is a famous
station known as Koanui. It is about a mile from the shore and marks the
boundary of the sea of Maulili, and the fish that appear periodically
and are caught within its limits have been subject to a division between
the fishermen and the landowner ever since. This is a station where the
fisherman’s hook shall not return without a fish except the hook be
lost, or the line cut.
The first time that Aiai tested this station
and caught a fish with his noted hook, he saw a fisherman in his canoe
drifting idly, without success. When he saw Aiai, this fisherman, called
Kanemakua, paddled till he came close to where Aiai was floating on an
improvised canoe, a wiliwili log, without an outrigger,—which much
surprised him. Before the fisherman reached him, Aiai felt a tug at his
line and knew that he had caught a fish and began pulling it in. When
Kanemakua came within speaking distance Aiai greeted him and gave him
the fish, putting it into his canoe. Kanemakua was made happy and
thanked Aiai for his generosity. While putting it in the canoe Aiai
said:
“This is the first time I have fished in
these waters to locate (or found) this station, and as you are the first
man I meet I give you the first fish caught. I also give you charge of
this ko’a; but take my advice. When you come here to fish and see a man
meeting you in a canoe and floating alongside of you, if at that time
you have caught a fish, then give it to him as I have done to you,
without regret, and thus get a good name and be known as a generous man.
If you observe this, great benefits will come to you and those related
to you.”
As Aiai finished speaking he suddenly
disappeared, and Kanemakua could hardly realize that he had not been
dreaming but for the assurance he had in the great fish lying in his
canoe. He returned to the shore with his prize, which was so large and
heavy that it required the help of two others to carry it to the house,
where it was cut up and the oven made hot for its baking. When it was
cooked he took the eyes of the fish and offered them up as a
thanksgiving sacrifice. Then the family, friends, and neighbors around
came to the feast and ate freely. During all this time Kanemakua was
thinking of the words spoken by the young man, which he duly observed.
The first ku-ula established in Maulili, Maui, was named after him, and
from that time its fish have been given out freely without restriction
or division.
After establishing the different ku-ula
stations along the coast from Hana to Kipahulu, Aiai went to Kaupo and
other places. A noted station and ku-ula is at Kahikinui. All the
stations of this place are in the deep sea, where they use nets of three
kinds; there is also fishing with poles, and ulua fishing, because this
part of the island faces the wind; but the ku-ulas are located on the
seashore, as is also the one at Honuaula, where it is covered over by
the lava flow.
Thus was performed the good work of Aiai in
establishing ku-ula stations and fish stones continued all around the
island of Maui. It is also said that he visited Kahoolawe and
established a ku-ula at Hakioawa, though it differs from the others,
being built on a high bluff overlooking the sea, somewhat like a temple,
by placing stones in the form of a square, in the middle of which was
left a space wherein the fishermen of that island laid their first fish
caught, as a thank offering. Awa and kapa were also placed there as
offerings to the fish deities.
An idea prevails with some people that the
ko’a of Kamohoalii, the king shark of Kahoolawe, is on this island, but
if all the stories told of it be examined there will be found no
reference to a ko’a of his on this island.
From Kahoolawe, Aiai next went to Lanai,
where he started fishing for aku (bonito) at Cape Kaunolu, using his
pearl Kahuoi. This is the first case known of fishing for aku with pearl
from the land, as it is a well known fact that this fish is caught only
in deep sea, far from shore. In the story of Kaneapua it is shown that
he is the only one who had fished for aku at the Cape of Kaunolu, where
it was started by Aiai.
From Kaunolu, Aiai went to Kaena Cape, where
at a place close to Paomai, was a little sandy beach now known as
Polihua. Here he took a stone and carved a figure on it, then carried
and placed it on the sandy beach, and called on his parents. While
making his incantations the stone moved toward the sea and disappeared
under the water. His incantations finished, the stone reappeared and
moved toward him till it reached the place where it had been laid;
whereupon it was transformed into a turtle, and gave the name of Polihua
to that beach. This work of Aiai on the island of Lanai was the first
introduction of the turtle in the seas of Hawaii, and also originated
the habit of the turtle of going up the beach to lay its eggs, then
returning to the sea.
After making the circuit of Lanai he went
over to Molokai, landing at Punakou and travelled along the shore till
he reached Kaunakakau. At this place he saw spawns of mullet, called
Puai-i, right near the shore, which he kicked with his foot, landing
them on the sand. This practice of kicking fish with the feet is carried
on to this time, but only at that locality. Aiai continued on along the
Kona side of Molokai, examining its fishing grounds and establishing
ku-ulas till he got to Halawa. At the Koolau side of the island he
stopped at Wailau and saw the cave of the eel Koona that went to Hana
and stole the fish from his father’s pond, and the cause of all the
trouble that befell his parents and himself.
When Aiai landed at Wailau he saw that both
sides of the valley were covered with men, women, and children engaged
in closing up the stream and diverting its water to another course,
whereby they would be enabled to catch oopu and opae. The water being
low, the gourds of some of the people were full from their catch.
Aiai noticed their wanton method of fishing,
whereby all oopus and opaes were caught without thought of any
reservation for their propagation; therefore he called on his parents to
take them all away. The prayer was granted, for suddenly they all
disappeared; those in the water went up the stream to a place called
Koki, while those in the gourds were turned to lizards which scampered
out and ran all over the rocks. The people were much surprised at this
change and felt sorely disappointed at the loss of their food supply.
On account of his regard for a certain lad
of that place, named Kahiwa, he showed him the place of the opaes to be
up the precipitous cliff, Koki. The youth was attentive to the direction
of Aiai and going there he found the oopus and opaes as stated, as they
are to this day. That is what established the noted saying of the old
people of that land: “Kokio of Wailau is the ladder of the opae.” It is
also known as the “Pali of Kahiwa.”
When Aiai left Wailau he showed this lad the
ku-ula and the fish station in the sea he had located there, at the same
distance as that rocky island known as Mokapu. He went also to Pelekunu,
Waikolu and Kalawao, even to Kalaupapa, the present home of the lepers.
At the latter place he left a certain fish stone. That is the reason
fish constantly gather there even to this day. He also went to Hoolehua
and so on as far as Ka lae o ka ilio (the dog’s forehead) and Ka lae o
ka laau. Between these two capes in the sea is a station established by
Aiai, where a tree grew out from under a rock, Ekaha by name. It is a
hardwood tree, but the trunk and also the branches are without leaves.
This place is a great haunt for fishermen with their hooks.
Aiai then came to Oahu, first landing at
Makapuu, in Koolau, where he founded a pohaku-ia (fish stone) for red
fish and for speckled fish, and called it Malei. This was a female rock,
and the fish of that place is the uhu. It is referred to in the mele of
Hiiaka, thus:
“I will not go to the stormy capes of Koolau,
The sea-cliffs of Moeaau.
The woman watching uhu of Makapuu
Dwells on the ledge of Kamakani
At Koolau. The living
Offers grass-twined sacrifices, O Malie!”
From the time Aiai founded that
spawning-place until the present, its fish have been the uhu, extending
to Hanauma. There were also several gathering-places for fish
established outside of Kawaihoa. Aiai next moved to Maunalua, then to
Waialae and Kahalaia. At Kaalawai he placed a white and brown rock.
There in that place is a hole filled with aholehole, therefore the name
of the land is Kaluahole. Right outside of Kahuahui there is a station
where Aiai placed a large round sandstone that is surrounded by
spawning-places for fish; Ponahakeone is its name.
In ancient times the chiefs selected a very
secret place wherein to hide the dead bodies of their greatly beloved,
lest some one should steal their bones to make fish-hooks, or arrows to
shoot mice with. For that reason the ancients referred to Ponahakeone as
“He Lualoa no Na’lii”—a deep pit for the chiefs.
Aiai came to Kalia and so on to Kakaako.
Here he was befriended by a man named Apua, with whom he remained
several days, observing and listening to the murmurs of the chief named
Kou. This chief was a skilful hiaku fisherman, his grounds being outside
of Mamala until you came to Moanalua. There was none so skilled as he,
and generous withal, giving akus to the people throughout the district.
As Aiai was dwelling with his friend Apua at
Kakaako, he meandered off one day along the shore of Kulolia, and so on
to Pakaka and Kapapoko. But he did not return to the house of his
friend, for he met a young woman gathering limu (sea-moss) and fishing
for crabs. This young woman, whose name was Puiwa, lived at Hanakaialama
and was a virgin, never having had a husband. She herself, as the people
would say, was forward to ask Aiai to be her husband; but he listened to
her voice, and they went up together to her home and saw the parents and
relatives, and forthwith were married. After living with this young
woman some time a son was born to them, whom Aiai named Puniaiki. During
those days was the distribution of aku which were sent up from Honolulu
to the different dwellings; but while others were given a whole fish,
they got but a portion from some neighbor. For this reason the woman was
angry, and told Aiai to go to the brook and get some oopus fit to eat,
as well as opae. Aiai listened to the voice of his wife. He dug a ditch
and constructed a dam so as to lead the water of the brook into some
pits, and thus be able to catch the oopu and opae. He labored some days
at this work, and the fish and shrimps were hung up to dry.
On a certain day following, Aiai and his
wife went with their child to the brook. She left her son upon the bank
of the stream while she engaged herself in catching opae and oopu from
the pits. But it was not long before the child began to cry; and as he
cried, Aiai told his wife to leave her fishing, but she talked saucily
to him. So Aiai called upon the names of his ancestors. Immediately a
dark and lowering cloud drew near and poured out a flood of water upon
the stream, and in a short time the dam was broken by the freshet and
all the oopu and opae, together with the child, were swept toward the
sea. But the woman was not taken by the flood. Aiai then rose up and
departed, without thought of his wife.
He went down from the valley to Kaumakapili,
and as he was standing there he saw some women fishing for oopu on the
banks of the stream, the daughter of the chief Kikihale being with them.
At that time, behold, there was caught by the female guardian of the
daughter of Kikihale a very large oopu. This oopu she showed to her
protégée, who told her to put it into a large calabash with water and
feed it with limu, so that it might become a pet fish. This was done and
the oopu was tended very carefully night and day.
Aiai stood by and saw the fish lifted out of
the brook, and recognized it at the same time as his own child, changed
from a human being into an oopu.
(At this point the story of Aiai gives place
to that of his child.)
When the oopu was placed in a large calabash
with water, it was carefully tended and fed with sea-moss for some time,
but one day in seeing to this duty the guardian of the chieftainess, on
reaching the calabash, was startled to behold therein a human child,
looking with its eyes. And the water in the calabash had disappeared.
She was greatly surprised and seized with a dark foreboding, and a
trembling fear possessed her as she looked upon this miraculous child.
This woman went and told the chieftainess of
this child they knew to have had the form of an oopu, and as Kikihale
heard the story of her guardian she went quickly, with grave doubts,
however, of this her report; but there, on reaching the calabash, as she
looked she saw indeed a child therein. She immediately put forth her
hands toward the child and lifting it, carefully examined its form and
noted its agreeable features. As the thought quickly possessed this
girl, she said: “Now, my guardian, you and your husband take and rear
this child till he is grown, then I will be his wife.”
The guardian answered her: “When this child
becomes grown you will be old; that is, your days will be in the evening
of life, while his place will be in the early morn. Will you not thereby
have lasting cause for dissatisfaction and contention between you in the
future?”
Kikihale answering her guardian said: “You
are not to blame; these things are mine to consider, for the reason that
the desire is mine, not yours, my guardian.”
After this talking the child was quickly
known of among the chiefs and attendants. He was nourished and brought
up to adult age, when Kikihale took him for her husband as she had said;
and for a time they dwelt together as man and wife without disagreement
between them. But during these days Kikihale saw plainly that her
husband was not disposed to do anything for their support; therefore she
mourned over it continually and angrily reproved him, finally, saying:
“O my husband, can you not go forth also, as
others, to assist our father and the attendants in the duties of
fishing, instead of eating till you are satisfied, then rolling over
with face upward to the ridge-pole of the house and counting the ahos?
It may do while my father is alive; but if he should die, whence would
come our support?” Thus she spoke reproachingly from day to day, and the
words stung Puniaiki’s heart with much pain.
And this is what he said to his wife one
day: “It is unpleasant to hear you constantly talking thus. Not as wild
animals is the catching of fish in the sea; they are obedient if called,
and you may eat wastefully of my fish when procured. I have authority
over fish, men, pigs, and dogs. If you are a favorite of your father
then go to him for double canoes, with their fishing appurtenances, and
men to paddle them.”
When Kikihale heard these words of her
husband she hastened to Kou, her father, and told him all that Puniaiki
had said, and the request was promptly executed. Kikihale returned to
her husband and told him all she had done.
On Puniaiki’s going down to the canoe place
he found the men were making ready the canoes with the nets, rods,
lines, and the pearl fish-hooks. Here he lit a fire and burned up the
pearl fish-hooks, at which his wife was much angered and cried loudly
for the hiaku pearl hooks of her father. She went and told Kou of this
mischievous action of her husband, but he answered her not a word at
this act of his son-in-law, though he had supplied five gourds filled
with them, a thousand in number, and the strangest thing was, that all
were burned up save two only which Kou had reserved.
Hawaiian Fisherman Using the Throw-Net
That night Puniaiki slept apart from his
wife, and he told the canoe paddlers to sleep in the canoe sheds, not to
go to their homes that night; and they obeyed his voice.
It was Kou’s habit to rouse his men before
break of day to sail in the malaus for aku fishing at the mouth of the
harbor, for that was their feeding-time, not after the sun had risen.
Thus would the canoes enter the schools of aku and this chief became
famous thereby as a most successful fisherman. But on this day was seen
the sorcerer’s work of this child of Aiai.
As Kou with his men set out always before
dawn, here was this Puniaiki above at his place at sunrise. At this time
on his awaking from sleep he turned his face mountainward, and looking
at Kaumakapili he saw a rainbow and its reddish mist spread out at that
place, wherein was standing a human form. He felt conscious that it was
Aiai his father, therefore he went there and Aiai showed him the place
of the pa (fish-hook) called Kahuai, and he said to his son: “Here will
I stay till you return; be quick.”
Upon Puniaiki reaching the landing the
canoes were quickly made ready to depart, and as they reached Kapapoko
and Pakaka, at the sea of Kuloloia, they went on to Ulukua, now the
lighthouse location of Honolulu harbor. At this place Puniaiki asked the
paddlers: “What is the name of that surf cresting beneath the prow of
our canoes?”
“Puuiki,” replied the men.
He then said to them: “Point straight the
prow of the canoes and paddle with strength.” At these words of Puniaiki
their minds were in doubt, because there were probably no akus at that
place in the surf; but that was none of their business. As they neared
the breakers of Puuiki, below the mouth of Mamala, Puniaiki said to his
men: “Turn the canoes around and go shorewards.” And in returning he
said quickly, “Paddle strong, for here we are on the top of a school of
akus.” But strange to say, as the men looked in the water they saw no
fish swimming about, but on reaching Ulakua Puniaiki opened up the
fish-hook, Kahuai, from its wrapping in the gourd and held it in his
hand.
At this the akus, unprecedented in number,
fairly leaped into the canoes. They became so filled with the fish,
without labor, that they sank in the water as they reached Kapuukolo,
and the men jumped overboard to float them to the beach. The canoe men
[248]wondered greatly at this work of the son-in-law of Kou the chief;
and the shore people shouted as the akus which filled the harbor swam
toward the fishpond of Kuwili and on to the mouth of Leleo stream.
When the canoes touched shore Puniaiki
seized two fishes in his hands and went to join his father where he was
staying, and Aiai directed him to take them up to where his mother
lived. These akus were not gifts for her, but an offering to Ku-ula at a
ko’a established just above Kahuailanawai. Puniaiki obeyed the
instructions of his father, and on returning to him he was sent back to
his mother, Puiwa, with a supply of akus. She was greatly surprised that
this handsome young man, with his gift of akus for her to eat, was her
own son, and these were the first fruits of his labor.
The people marvelled at the quantity of fish
throughout the harbor, so that even the stream at Kikihale was also full
of akus, and Puniaiki commanded the people to take of them day and
night; and the news of this visit of akus went all around Oahu. This
unequalled haul of akus was a great humiliation to Kou, affecting his
fame as a fisherman; but he was neither jealous of his son-in-law nor
angry,—he just sat silent. He thought much on the subject but with
kindly feelings, resulting in turning over this employment to him who
could prosecute it without worry.
Shortly afterwards Aiai arranged with
Puniaiki for the establishing of ku-ulas, ko’as, and fish stones around
the island of Oahu, which were as follows:
The Kou stone was for Honolulu and
Kaumakapili; a ku-ula at Kupahu; a fish stone at Hanapouli, Ewa. Ahuena
was the ku-ula for Waipio; two were assigned for Honouliuli. Hani-o was
the name of the ko’a outside of Kalaeloa; Kua and Maunalahilahi for
Waianae; Kamalino for Waimea; and Kaihukuuna for Laiemaloo, Koolau.
Aiai and his son also visited Kauai and
Niihau on this work, then they turned and went together to Hawaii. The
principal or most noted fishing-grounds there are: Poo-a, Kahaka, and
Olelomoana at Kona; Kalae at Kau; Kupakea at Puna, and I at Hilo.
In former times at most of these
fishing-grounds were seen multitudes and varieties of fish, all around
the islands, and occasionally deep sea kinds came close in shore, but in
this new era there are not so many. Some people say it is on account of
the change of the times. Back to Contents
Kaneaukai, A Legend
of Waialua, Thos. G. Thrum
Long ago, when the Hawaiians were in the
darkness of superstition and kahunaism, with their gods and lords many,
there lived at Mokuleia, Waialua, two old men whose business it was to
pray to Kaneaukai for a plentiful supply of fish. These men were quite
poor in worldly possessions, but given to the habit of drinking a potion
of awa after their evening meal of poi and fish.
The fish that frequented the waters of
Mokuleia were the aweoweo, kala, manini, and many other varieties that
find their habitat inside the coral reefs. Crabs of the white variety
burrowed in the sand near the seashore and were dug out by the people,
young and old. The squid also were speared by the skilful fishermen, and
were eaten stewed, or salted and sun-dried and roasted on the coals. The
salt likely came from Kaena Point, from salt-water evaporation in the
holes of rocks so plentiful on that stormy cape. Or it may have been
made on the salt pans of Paukauwila, near the stream of that name, where
a few years ago this industry existed on a small scale.
But to return to our worshippers of
Kaneaukai. One morning on going out upon the seashore they found a log
of wood, somewhat resembling the human form, which they took home and
set in a corner of their lowly hut, and continued their habit of praying
to Kaneaukai. One evening, after having prepared a scanty supper of poi
and salt, with perhaps a few roasted kukui-nuts, as a relish, and a
couple of cocoanut cups of awa as their usual drink, they saw a handsome
young man approaching, who entered their hut and saluted them. He
introduced himself by saying, “I am Kaneaukai to whom you have been
praying, and that which you have set up is my image; you have done well
in caring for it.”
He sat down, after the Hawaiian custom, as
if to share their evening meal, which the two old men invited him to
partake of with them, but regretted the scanty supply of awa. He said:
“Pour the awa back into the bowl and divide into three.” This they did
and at once shared their meal with their guest.
After supper Kaneaukai said to the two old
men, “Go to Keawanui and you will get fish enough for the present.” He
then disappeared, and the fishermen went as instructed and obtained
three fishes; one they gave to an old sorceress who lived near by, and
the other two they kept for themselves.
Soon after this there was a large school of
fish secured by the fishermen of Mokuleia. So abundant were the fish
that after salting all they could, there was enough to give away to the
neighbors; and even the dogs had more than they desired.
Leaving the Mokuleia people to the enjoyment
of their unusual supply of fish, we will turn to the abode of two
kahunas, who were also fishermen, living on the south side of Waimea
Valley, Oahu. One morning, being out of fish, they went out into the
harbor to try their luck, and casting their net they caught up a
calcareous stone about as large as a man’s head, and a pilot fish. They
let the pilot fish go, and threw the stone back into the sea. Again they
cast their net and again they caught the stone and the pilot fish; and
so again at the third haul. At this they concluded that the stone was a
representative of some god. The elder of the two said: “Let us take this
stone ashore and set it up as an idol, but the pilot fish we will let
go.” So they did, setting it up on the turn of the bluff on the south
side of the harbor of Waimea. They built an inclosure about it and
smoothed off the rocky bluff by putting flat stones from the immediate
neighborhood about the stone idol thus strangely found.
About ten days after the finding of the
stone idol the two old kahunas were sitting by their grass hut in the
dusk of the evening, bewailing the scarcity of fish, when Kaneaukai
himself appeared before them in the guise of a young man. He told them
that they had done well in setting up his stone image, and if they would
follow his directions they would have a plentiful supply of fish. Said
he, “Go to Mokuleia, and you will find my wooden idol; bring it here and
set it up alongside of my stone idol.” But they demurred, as it was a
dark night and there were usually quicksands after a freshet in the
Kamananui River. His answer was, “Send your grandsons.” And so the two
young men were sent to get the wooden idol and were told where they
could find it.
The young men started for Mokuleia by way of
Kaika, near the place where salt was made a few years ago. Being
strangers, they were in doubt about the true way, when a meteor (hoku
kaolele) appeared and went before them, showing them how to escape the
quicksands. After crossing the river they went on to Mokuleia as
directed by Kaneaukai, and found the wooden idol in the hut of the two
old men. They shouldered it, and taking as much dried fish as they could
carry, returned by the same way that they had come, arriving at home
about midnight.
The next day the two old kahunas set up the
wooden idol in the same inclosure with the stone representative of
Kaneaukai. The wooden image has long since disappeared, having been
destroyed, probably, at the time Kaahumanu made a tour of Oahu after her
conversion to Christianity, when she issued her edict to burn all the
idols. But the stone idol was not destroyed. Even during the past sixty
years offerings of roast pigs are known to have been placed before it.
This was done secretly for fear of the chiefs, who had published laws
against idolatry.
Accounts differ, various narrators giving
the story some embellishments of their own. So good a man as a deacon of
Waialua in telling the above seemed to believe that, instead of being a
legend it was true; for an old man, to whom he referred as authority,
said that one of the young men who went to Mokuleia and brought the
wooden idol to Waimea was his own grandfather.
An aged resident of the locality gives this
version: Following the placement of their strangely found stone these
two men dreamed of Kaneaukai as a god in some far-distant land, to whom
they petitioned that he would crown their labors with success by
granting them a plentiful supply of fish. Dreaming thus, Kaneaukai
revealed himself to them as being already at their shore; that the stone
which they had been permitted to find and had honored by setting up at
Kehauapuu, was himself, in response to their petitions; and since they
had been faithful so far, upon continuance of the same, and offerings
thereto, they should ever after be successful in their fishing. As if in
confirmation of this covenant, this locality has ever since been noted
for the periodical visits of schools of the anae-holo and kala, which
are prevalent from April to July, coming, it is said, from Ohea,
Honuaula, Maui, by way of Kahuku, and returning the same way.
So strong was the superstitious belief of
the people in this deified stone that when, some twenty years ago, the
road supervisor of the district threw it over and broke off a portion,
it was prophesied that Kaneaukai would be avenged for the insult. And
when shortly afterward the supervisor lost his position and removed from
the district, returning not to the day of his death; and since several
of his relatives have met untimely ends, not a few felt it was the
recompense of his sacrilegious act. Back to
Contents
The Shark-Man,
Nanaue, Mrs. E. M. Nakuina
Kamohoalii, the King-shark of Hawaii and
Maui, has several deep sea caves that he uses in turn as his habitat.
There are several of these at the bottom of the palisades, extending
from Waipio toward Kohala, on the island of Hawaii. A favorite one was
at Koamano, on the mainland, and another was at Maiaukiu, the small
islet just abreast of the valley of Waipio. It was the belief of the
ancient Hawaiians that several of these shark gods could assume any
shape they chose, the human form even, when occasion demanded.
In the reign of Umi, a beautiful girl,
called Kalei, living in Waipio, was very fond of shellfish, and
frequently went to Kuiopihi for her favorite article of diet. She
generally went in the company of other women, but if the sea was a
little rough, and her usual companion was afraid to venture out on the
wild and dangerous beach, she very often went alone rather than go
without her favorite sea-shells.
In those days the Waipio River emptied over
a low fall into a basin partly open to the sea; this basin is now
completely filled up with rocks from some convulsion of nature, which
has happened since then. In this was a deep pool, a favorite
bathing-place for all Waipio. The King shark god, Kamohoalii, used to
visit this pool very often to sport in the fresh waters of the Waipio
River. Taking into account the many different tales told of the doings
of this shark god, he must have had quite an eye for human physical
beauty.
Kalei, as was to be expected from a strong,
well-formed Hawaiian girl of those days, was an expert swimmer, a good
diver, and noted for the neatness and grace with which she would
lelekawa (jump from the rocks into deep water) without any splashing of
water, which would happen to unskilful divers, from the awkward
attitudes they would assume in the act of jumping.
It seems Kamohoalii, the King-shark, had
noted the charms of the beautiful Kalei, and his heart, or whatever
answers in place of it with fishes, had been captured by them. But he
could not expect to make much of an impression on the maiden’s
susceptibilities in propria persona, even though he was perfectly able
to take her bodily into his capacious maw; so he must needs go courting
in a more pleasing way. Assuming the form of a very handsome man, he
walked on the beach one rather rough morning, waiting for the girl’s
appearance.
Now the very wildness of the elements
afforded him the chance he desired, as, though Kalei was counted among
the most agile and quick of rock-fishers, that morning, when she did
come, and alone, as her usual companions were deterred by the rough
weather, she made several unsuccessful springs to escape a high
threatening wave raised by the god himself; and apparently, if it had
not been for the prompt and effective assistance rendered by the
handsome stranger, she would have been swept out into the sea.
Thus an acquaintance was established. Kalei
met the stranger from time to time, and finally became his wife.
Some little time before she expected to
become a mother, her husband, who all this time would only come home at
night, told her his true nature, and informing her that he would have to
leave her, gave orders in regard to the bringing up of the future child.
He particularly cautioned the mother never to let him be fed on animal
flesh of any kind, as he would be born with a dual nature, and with a
body that he could change at will.
In time Kalei was delivered of a fine
healthy boy, apparently the same as any other child, but he had, besides
the normal mouth of a human being, a shark’s mouth on his back between
the shoulder blades. Kalei had told her family of the kind of being her
husband was, and they all agreed to keep the matter of the shark-mouth
on the child’s back a secret, as there was no knowing what fears and
jealousies might be excited in the minds of the King or high chiefs by
such an abnormal being, and the babe might be killed.
The old grandfather, far from heeding the
warning given by Kamohoalii in the matter of animal diet, as soon as the
boy, who was called Nanaue, was old enough to come under the taboo in
regard to the eating of males, and had to take his meals at the mua
house with the men of the family, took especial pains to feed him on dog
meat and pork. He had a hope that his grandson would grow up to be a
great, strong man, and become a famous warrior; and there was no knowing
what possibilities lay before a strong, skilful warrior in those days.
So he fed the boy with meat, whenever it was obtainable. The boy
thrived, grew strong, big, and handsome as a young lama (Maba
sandwicensis) tree.
There was another pool with a small fall of
the Waipio River very near the house of Kalei, and the boy very often
went into it while his mother watched on the banks. Whenever he got into
the water he would take the form of a shark and would chase and eat the
small fish which abounded in the pool. As he grew old enough to
understand, his mother took especial pains to impress on him the
necessity of concealing his shark nature from other people.
This place was also another favorite
bathing-place of the people, but Nanaue, contrary to all the habits of a
genuine Hawaiian, would never go in bathing with the others, but always
alone; and when his mother was able, she used to go with him and sit on
the banks, holding the kapa scarf, which he always wore to hide the
shark-mouth on his back.
When he became a man, his appetite for
animal diet, indulged in childhood, had grown so strong that a human
being’s ordinary allowance would not suffice for him. The old
grandfather had died in the meantime, so that he was dependent on the
food supplied by his stepfather and uncles, and they had to expostulate
with him on what they called his shark-like voracity. This gave rise to
the common native nickname of a manohae (ravenous shark) for a very
gluttonous man, especially in the matter of meat.
Nanaue used to spend a good deal of his time
in the two pools, the one inland and the other opening into the sea. The
busy-bodies (they had some in those days as well as now) were set to
wondering why he always kept a kihei, or mantle, on his shoulders; and
for such a handsomely shaped, athletic young man, it was indeed a matter
of wonder and speculation, considering the usual attire of the youth of
those days. He also kept aloof from all the games and pastimes of the
young people, for fear that the wind or some active movement might
displace the kapa mantle, and the shark-mouth be exposed to view.
About this time children and eventually
grown-up people began to disappear mysteriously.
Nanaue had one good quality that seemed to
redeem his apparent unsociability; he was almost always to be seen
working in his mother’s taro or potato patch when not fishing or
bathing. People going to the sea beach would have to pass these potato
or taro patches, and it was Nanaue’s habit to accost them with the query
of where they were going. If they answered, “To bathe in the sea,” or,
“Fishing,” he would answer, “Take care, or you may disappear head and
tail.” Whenever he so accosted any one it would not be long before some
member of the party so addressed would be bitten by a shark.
If it should be a man or woman going to the
beach alone, that person would never be seen again, as the shark-man
would immediately follow, and watching for a favorable opportunity, jump
into the sea. Having previously marked the whereabouts of the person he
was after, it was an easy thing for him to approach quite close, and
changing into a shark, rush on the unsuspecting person and drag him or
her down into the deep, where he would devour his victim at his leisure.
This was the danger to humanity which his king-father foresaw when he
cautioned the mother of the unborn child about feeding him on animal
flesh, as thereby an appetite would be evoked which they had no means of
satisfying, and a human being would furnish the most handy meal of the
kind that he would desire.
Nanaue had been a man grown some time, when
an order was promulgated by Umi, King of Hawaii, for every man dwelling
in Waipio to go to koele work, tilling a large plantation for the King.
There were to be certain days in an anahulu (ten days) to be set aside
for this work, when every man, woman, and child had to go and render
service, excepting the very old and decrepit, and children in arms.
The first day every one went but Nanaue. He
kept on working in his mother’s vegetable garden to the astonishment of
all who saw him. This was reported to the King, and several stalwart men
were sent after him. When brought before the King he still wore his kapa
kihei or mantle.
The King asked him why he was not doing
koele work with every one else. Nanaue answered he did not know it was
required of him. Umi could not help admiring the bold, free bearing of
the handsome man, and noting his splendid physique, thought he would
make a good warrior, greatly wanted in those ages, and more especially
in the reign of Umi, and simply ordered him to go to work.
Nanaue obeyed, and took his place in the
field with the others, and proved himself a good worker, but still kept
on his kihei, which it would be natural to suppose that he would lay
aside as an incumbrance when engaged in hard labor. At last some of the
more venturesome of the younger folks managed to tear his kapa off, as
if accidentally, when the shark-mouth on his back was seen by all the
people near.
Nanaue was so enraged at the displacement of
his kapa and his consequent exposure, that he turned and bit several of
the crowd, while the shark-mouth opened and shut with a snap, and a
clicking sound was heard such as a shark is supposed to make when
baulked by its prey.
The news of the shark-mouth and his
characteristic shark-like actions were quickly reported to the King,
with the fact of the disappearance of so many people in the vicinity of
the pools frequented by Nanaue; and of his pretended warnings to people
going to the sea, which were immediately followed by a shark bite or by
their being eaten bodily, with every one’s surmise and belief that this
man was at the bottom of all those disappearances. The King believed it
was even so, and ordered a large fire to be lighted, and Nanaue to be
thrown in to be burnt alive.
When Nanaue saw what was before him, he
called on the shark god, his father, to help him; then, seeming to be
endowed with superhuman strength in answer to his prayer, he burst the
ropes with which he had been bound in preparation for the burning, and
breaking through the throng of Umi’s warriors, who attempted to detain
him, he ran, followed by the whole multitude, toward the pool that
emptied into the sea. When he got to the edge of the rocks bordering the
pool, he waited till the foremost persons were within arm’s length, when
he leaped into the water and immediately turned into a large shark on
the surface of the water, in plain view of the people who had arrived,
and whose numbers were being continually augmented by more and more
arrivals.
Coast Surf
Scene
After Aiai had made his offering, his
friend’s parents came to where the fish were gathering and were told to
take all they desired, which they did, returning home happy for the
liberal supply obtained without trouble. The owners of the baskets were
then called and told to take all the fish they wished for themselves and
for the King. When these people saw the great supply they were glad and
much surprised at the success of these two boys. The news of the
reappearing of the fish spread through the district, and the people
flocked in great numbers and gathered hinaleas to their satisfaction,
and returned to their homes with rejoicing. Some of those who gave Aiai
the baskets returned with their bundles of fish to the King. When he saw
so many of those he had longed for he became so excited that he reached
out and picked one up and put it in his mouth, intending to eat it; but
instead the fish slipped right into his throat and stuck there. Many
tried to reach and take it out, but were unable, and before the sun set
that day Kamohoalii, the King of Hana, died, being choked and strangled
to death by the fish. Thus the words of Aiai, the son of Ku-ula, proved
true.
By the death of the King of Hana the revenge
was complete. The evil-doer from Molokai, and those who obeyed the
King’s orders on the day Ku-ula’s house was fired, met retribution, and
Aiai thus won a victory over all his father’s enemies.
After living for a time at Hana Aiai left
that place and went among the different islands of the group
establishing fishing ko’as (ko’a aina aumakua). He was the first to
measure the depth of the sea to locate these fishing ko’as for the deep
sea fishermen who go out in their canoes, and the names of many of these
ko’as located around the different islands are well known.
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