hiiaka visits pele-ula at kou—the hula kilu
at the entrance to this land-locked harbor of kou a pretty sight met their eyes: a moving picture of men and women in the various attitudes of lying, kneeling or standing on boards, riding the waves that chased each other toward the sandy beach. the scene made such an appeal to hiiaka’s imagination that she opened her heart in song:
ke iho la ka makani
halihali pua o nu’uanu, e-e;
aia i kai na lehua.
ke naná la o hilo;
ke ka ia ho’i ka aukai, e-e;
na lehua i ka wai o hilo,
o hilo ho’i, e-e!
translation
down rushes the wind and sweeps along
the blossoms of nu’uanu:
afloat in the sea are the flowers—
a scene that takes one to hilo,
whose tide lines them up as a lei;
for bloom of lehua to drift
far at sea is a hilo mark.
[169]
when, after this battery of compliment, they came close up to the princess pele-ula—who, as will be seen, was a power in the land—having exchanged still further compliments, hiiaka invited her to come aboard. pele-ula, very naturally, declined this kind offer, but with a fine show of hospitality in her turn begged that they would honor her by being her guests during their stay in the place, assuring them of hospitable entertainment and such pleasures as her court could offer. under her piloting, accordingly, they made their way by paddle across the beautiful land-locked harbor of kou and, entering the nu’uanu stream—in those days much broader, sweeter and deeper than now—turned into its eastern branch and erelong found themselves at the landing from which a path led up to pele-ula’s residence. imagine the fairy scene, if you will;—a canoe-load of smiling nereids piloted by a mermaid princess swimming on ahead, with a merry convoy of mermaiden and mermen following in the wake.
a word in regard to this little land, now lying close to the heart of honolulu itself, which still bears the same name as its old-time mistress, pele-ula. to the kamaaina the sturdy samang tree, whose vigorous bole parts the traffic of vineyard street just before its junction with the highway of nu’uanu has long been a familiar object. this fine tree has a history of its own and can claim the respectable age of not less than forty years. the land about it has borne the classic name of pele-ula for a period of centuries that hark back to the antiquity of hawaiian tradition. the sightseer of to-day who views the region from the macadamized roadway, some ten feet above the level of the surrounding land, must not judge of its former attractiveness and fitness as a place of residence by its present insalubrity—now shut in by embankments, overhung by dank and shadowy trees, its once-pure stream either diverted for economic purposes or cluttered and defiled with the debris of civilization. a study of the region, on the inner—mauka—border of which lies pele-ula, will easily convince the observer that within a short geologic period the wash of silt and mud from higher levels has filled in and converted what must have been at one time a clear salt-water basin into the swampy flats that not long ago met the eye. now, of course, this whole alluvial basin has been still further filled in and artificially overlaid with a more-or-less solid crust of earth and rock to meet the demands of honolulu’s ever expanding growth.
to return to our narrative: to this hamlet of pele-ula, such as [170]it was in the days of arcadian sweetness—if not of light—hiiaka and her select company now enter as the honored guests of a woman distinguished alike for her beauty, her spiritual subtility and insight—she was a makaula—and for her devotion to pleasure. one of her chief diversions, naturally enough, was the hula, especially that form of the dance which was used in connection with that risqué entertainment, the kilu.1
by evening, when the travelers had washed away the encrusting salt, warmed and dried their apparel at an outdoor fire, filled nature’s vacuum at the generous table of their hostess, while they were sitting in the short gloaming of the tropics, enjoying the delicious content that waits on rest after toil, pele-ula interrupted the silence:
“the people will have assembled in the hall by this time. shall we move in that direction?” her glance was first at hiiaka as the leader of the party; her gaze rested on lohiau.
“let the resident guests be the first. when they are settled in their places it will be time enough for us to come in,” was the reply of hiiaka.
“as you please,” nodded pele-ula.
wahine-oma’o rose to her feet as pele-ula was departing. at this move hiiaka said, “when you reach the hall go and take a seat by your man friend.” she meant lohiau. thereupon she gave vent to this enigmatical utterance:
po puna2 i ka uwahi ku’i maka lehua3;
na wahine kihei-hei4 paü heihei5 o uka [171]
e noho ana ka papa lohi o mau-kele,6
ha’a7 ho’i ka papa e; ha’a ho’i ka papa,
ke kahuli8 nei, e-e!
translation
puna’s day is turned into night;
smoke blasts the buds of lehua;
the nymphs, in fringed woodland paü,
sit the glare lava-plates of mau-kele:
unstable, the lava-plates rock,
they tilt and upset.
she turns to lohiau and says, “you had better be going to the hall. when you go in take a seat by your friend.” this advice is puzzling: the friend must have been wahine-oma’o and it was customary for men and women to sit apart. then she resumed her song:
mai puna9 au, e-e, mai puna:
ke ha’a la ka lau o ka lima,10 e-e;
o ke oho o ka niu e loha11 ana i kai, e-e!
translation
i come from the land of puna—
a partner i in a triple love.
ah, look! his fingers are passion-clutched!
like fronds of the palm, they shall wilt.
[172]
as she sauntered on her way to the dance-hall she concluded her song:
mai puna au, e, mai puna au,
mai uka au o wahine-kapu;12
mai o’olu-e?,13 i ke ahi14 a laka, la.
mai puna au, e-e!
translation
bethink you, i come from puna—
in the power of a triple love.
girt with the might of wahine-kapu:
beware the baleful fires of laka:
remember, i come from puna.
the inner meaning and intent of this highly wrought figurative and allegorical language, which hiiaka, according to her custom, utters at detached intervals in the form of song, does not lie on the surface, and is furthermore obscured by an untranslatable punning use of the word puna.
to explain the motive of this song, hiiaka perceives that pele-ula and lohiau, who had once upon a time been lovers, are mutually drawn to each other by a rekindling of the old flame. in the case of pele-ula the motive of ambition to match her own spiritual power as a makaula—seer—with that of the young woman who comes to her as the plenipotential ambassador of pele is even stronger than the physical passion. in the kilu now to be performed she sees her opportunity.
she will use it for all it is worth, not only that she may taste once more the delights offered by this coxcomb, but that she may pluck from the hand of this audacious creature of pele’s endowment a wreath for her own wearing.
as to lohiau, that plastic thing, his character, is as clay in [173]the hands of the potter, under pele-ula’s manipulation. he is all for pleasure. honor, constancy, ordinary prudence, are not in his purview. hiiaka’s immediate presence suffices to restrain and guide him; in her absence, his passion, a rudderless bark, is the sport of every wind that blows.
hiiaka, on arriving at the halau, sat by herself. lohiau, as she observed, was sitting with wahine-oma’o and waikiki. pele-ula, who was sitting alone on her side of the hall, now showed her hand by sending one of her men, named a’ala, to invite lohiau to come over and sit with her. at this hiiaka spoke up: “i will sit by you.”
“so be it, then,” answered pele-ula. at the same time she muttered to herself, “but she wasn’t invited.”
a’ala, who caught the aside of his mistress, also put in, “it’s lohiau whom she invites.”
at this hiiaka bravely laid down the rule, which was the accepted one, that the men and the women should sit on opposite sides of the halau; averring that any other disposition would be sure to breed trouble. pele-ula could not but agree to this and accordingly, wahine-oma’o and waikiki, leaving their seats by lohiau, came over and sat with hiiaka and pele-ula.
when the presiding officer of the game—the la anoano15—had called the assembly to order with the well known cry “pu-heo-heo” and it came to the placing of the pahu kilu—short pyramidal blocks of wood—before each one of the players, who sat in two rows facing each other and separated by a considerable interval, hiiaka objected to the way in which they were placed. a sharp discussion then arose between pele-ula and hiiaka, but the younger woman carried the day and won her point.
lohiau had a great and well-deserved reputation as a skilful champion in the game of kilu. when, therefore, it came his turn to hurl the kilu16 and send it spinning across the mat with an aim that would make it strike the pahu, which was its target, everybody looked for great things and it was openly predicted that he would win every point.
lohiau preluded his play with a song: [174]
ke hele la ka au-hula ana17 o ka-lalau;
ke po’i la ke kai o milo-li’i;
ka laau18 ku’i o makua-iki:
lawe i ka haka la, lilo!
makua, keiki i ka poli e, i ka poli.
i ka poli no ka hoa a hele;
kalakala i ke kua ka opeope aloha.
auwe ho’i, e-e!
translation
i venture the cliffs of ka-lalau;
the wild waves dash at the base—
the breakers of milo-li’i—
scaling the ladder that climbs makua.
the ladder, alas, the ladder is gone!
the child in my heart has grown a man.
my heart found room for this travel-mate;
but now!—i strip from my back
that emblem—that burden—of love!
alas for emblem and love!
the “child in the heart that has grown to be a man” is lohiau’s old love for pele-ula, which now wakes up into new life at the sight of his old flame. the old love has, however, in a sense become a burden. it stands in the way of the new-born affection that has sprung up in his heart for hiiaka.
it was after the chanting of this mele that lohiau threw his kilu. but, to the consternation of the audience and his own bewilderment, his play was a miss. his aim had been true, his hand steady, the whirling kilu had gone straight on its way as if sure of the mark, then, to the utter amazement of all experts, like the needle of the compass influenced by some hidden magnet, it had swerved and gone wild.
hiiaka, from the other side of the hall, now took her turn at the kilu, with a prelude of song: [175]
a makani pua ia lalo,19
moe ko’a ka huhu, aia iloko ho’i, e-e.
ho’i a ka lili a ka pua o ka wao,
noho ilaila ka hihi, ka pa’a
a ka manawa20 ho’i e-e.
translation
a gust of wind from the west
lays bare the jagged reef:
pride makes its lair in the wilds,
mid tangle of vine and tree:
so anger abides in the brain.
in this song hiiaka exposes the unworthy plot that was simmering in lohiau’s mind, whom she typifies by a gust of wind blowing from the west, the general direction of kauai.
at the first throw the kilu hit the wooden block and then, as if not content with its accomplishment, after caroming off, returned like a bee to its blossom, and this action it repeated until it had scored not one but three points. there was the thrill of triumph in hiiaka’s tone as she sang again:
o ku’u manawa na’e ka i hei i ka moe;
oo? na’e ka’u e lawe la; lilo,
lilo oe la e, auwe!
translation
aha, my will has snared the bird,
and you are my captive, yes you:
your purpose is foiled, ah, foiled!
with another prelude of song, lohiau offered himself for another trial, kilu in hand:
a makani pahele—hala kou maile-húna;
ke wáhi mai la malama-iki;
nohá wai-lua,21 pau ka pua.
pau no me ke kino o kalehua-wehe,22 e-e.
[176]
translation
the volant breath of the maile
has the strength of the fruiter’s crook;
it opens a trail in the jungle.
wai-lua breaks bar; the small fry are out,
the complots, too, of lehua-wehe.
this attempt was a failure like those that had gone before. lohiau, thereupon, sought relief for his artistic disappointment in song:
wehe’a iho nei loko o ka moe;
malamalama no me he ahi lele la,
no lalo, e; auwé ho’i au, e!
translation
failed, failed in my choicest ambition!—
heralded, like a shooting star!—
fallen, fallen, alas and alas!
the game has by this time resolved itself into a contest of wits as well as of skill, and the two chief antagonists are—strange to relate—lohiau, the man who was called back from the grave and the woman to whom he owes his life, hiiaka.
as a prelude to her next play hiiaka gave this song:
i uka kaua i moe-awakea,23
i ka nahele o ka-li’u, la.
auwé ho’i, e-e!
translation
you shall bed with me in open day
in the twilight groves of ka-li’u—
woe is me! i’ve uttered it now!
the god at work in the hills.
the god at work in the hills.
from the painting by a. w. emerson
hiiaka’s play this time as before was a marvellous show of [177]skill. the kilu seemed possessed with an instinct of attraction for the block that stood as her target. like a bee that has found a rich honey-flower it returned again and yet again, as if to drain the last particle of sweetness.
before venturing on his last play, lohiau discarded the kilu he had been using and chose another, thinking thus to change his luck. he also changed the style of his song, adopting the more sensuous form called ami honua,24 or ku’u pau:
ke lei mai la ka-ula i ke kai, e;
ka malamalama o niihau i ka malie.
a malama ke kaao o kou aloha—
kou aloha ho’i, e-e!
in the first line of this little song, lohiau, skilfully playing on the name pele-ula, which he turns into ka-ula, under the figure of the ocean tossing about that little island, banters the woman for her display of passion. in the second line, using a similar word-play, by which he turns his own name into niihau, he contrasts the calm of the latter island with the agitation of the former.
translation
ka-ula’s enwreathed by the ocean;
niihau looms clear in the calm:
and clear is the tide of your love,
the marvelous tide of your love!
pele-ula, in her surprise at the untimeliness of lohiau’s performance, as well as in her deep concern at his continued failure, expostulated with him: “you have but one more play; why then do you anticipate by indulging in the ami? perhaps if you were to address your song to my father, ka-manu-wai, who is a skilled performer—who knows but what you might hit the target for once?”
“is it likely,” lohiau replied, “is it likely that i shall hit this [178]time, having missed so many shots before?” thereupon the man completed his song:
o puna, nahele ulu hala o kalukalu,25
wawalu ili a mohole26 na’ena’e.
pehi ala laua’e25 o na-pali,27
ho’olu’e iho la i ke kai;
kina’i aku la ka eha, e.
translation
in puna’s famed thickets of hala
one’s body is torn—a network of marks.
climbing the walls of na-pali, the scent
of lau-a’e pelts the sense; then fall
the petals sweet, to drown their pain
in the ocean that rages below.
the kilu spins on its way—it must hit—no, fate is too strong for it and turns it from the mark. lohiau’s song is an admission of painful discomfiture:
o ka eha a ke aloha ke lalawe nei,
eia la iloko, i ku’u manawa.
ka eha e! auwe ho’i e!
translation
the smart of love o’erwhelms me;
it rages in heart and mind—
this hurt, ah, this hurt!
that lohiau of all men standing on hawaiian soil should fail utterly in a game of kilu was incredible—the man whose art availed to hit a grass-top teetering in the breeze, to crush the [179]nimble ant speeding on his way, to swat the buzzing fly flitting through the air! the audience was dumbfounded. in the failure to find excuse sufficient for the occasion, it took refuge in silence.
it only remains for hiiaka to pluck the fruit which her skill has put within reach of her hand. her complete victory has become a foregone conclusion. of that there can be no question. it is, however, a question of great interest to the spectator how she will use her victory, in what terms she will celebrate her triumph over the woman and the recreant man who have combined their wits against hers. the answer to this question is to be found in the song with which she preludes her last play:
mehameha, kanaka-ole, ka ho’i
o pu’u o moe-awa,28 e-e!
ko ke auhe’e i ka aina kanaka-ole!
translation
aye, lonely, man-empty, indeed;
cold the couch and bitter the dreams
from which has been exiled the man!
this ironical thrust is pointed at pele-ula, who is to see her fond hopes of a renewed liaison with her old paramour blasted by this plucking of the fruit under her very eyes.
and yet again, when hiiaka has made the final shot that fulfills the promise of victory to her, still relentlessly wielding the sharp blade of irony, she gives it an extra twist in the wound that must have made pele-ula wince:
a kulou anei, e uwé ana—
e uwé no anei, he keiki makua-ole?
aohe makua; uwé ho’i e!
translation
will the orphan now hang his head
and weep like a motherless child?
his mother is dead; let him weep!
[180]
this two-edged blade cuts both lovers at one stroke—the youth in its ironical allusion to tears, the woman in the sly suggestion of motherhood, she being in fact old enough to hold that relation to the young man.
the forfeit paid by lohiau after his defeat was a dance, which he did with inimitable grace and aplomb to the accompaniment of a spirited song, his costume being the customary paü of the hula:
ku’u hoa i ka ili hau o maná,
i kula’i ’na e ka wai o hina;
hina ke oho o ka hala,
ka oka’i pua o ka hinalo i ka wai, e.
eia oe; he waiwai nui kau,
ka ke aloha, ina i ona
ka mana’o mai e: eia oe e.
translation
yoke-fellow in toil at maná,
i’m swept off my feet in this flood:
the leaves of the twisted hala,
the sheath of its perfumy bloom—
all torn by the rage of the stream:
you alone remain to me now—
your love, if that is yet mine,
if your heart remains with me still.
warming to his work, lohiau continued:
ku’u hoa i ke kawelu oho o malai-lua,
i ho’o-holu ia, ho’opi’o ia e ka makani,
naue ke oho o ka hala,
maewa i ke kai o po’o-ku e, eia oe;
he ku oe na’u, e ke aloha:
ina oe mawaho e, eia oe.
translation
mate mine through grassy meads, awave,
wind-swept and tossed by breeze or storm, [181]
or when the leaves of screwy palm
are smitten with brine from the sea,
thou idol enshrined in my heart,
though apart, thou art empress within.
still protesting his love for hiiaka and deploring his separation from her, lohiau continues:
a ka lihi au i ka hala o hanalei;29
lei au i ka hala30 o po’oku e, eia oe.
he ku oe na’u, e ke aloha;
ina oe maloko e, eia oe.
translation
i neighbor the land of the wreath,
my luck, to pine for a palm-crown.
oh, wouldst thou but twine the wreath, love,
admit to the shrine of thy heart.
lohiau, warming to his work, strutted and capered about like a capercailzie cock before his mistresses, lashing his passion—after the manner of a flagellant—with words of wild hyperbole; but ever approaching nearer and nearer to where sat the two women about whom revolved his thoughts. as to which one of them it was that he singled out as the center of his orbit for the time, that is to be deduced from a study of his song:
aloha wale ka nikiniki,
ke kanaenae pua o maile-huna;
e a’e ia ana ia kapa’a,
i ke kahuli a ke kalukalu:
honi u i ke ala o ka hinalo, e:
pe wale ia u?—u?, e!
e lei au—
lei ho’i au i ke kanáka, i ka mea aloha,
i ka mea i ho’opulapula hou
o ka moe, e: eia au.
[182]
translation
how precious the fillet that binds
love’s token of bloom with maile;
climbing the wilds above ka-pa’a,
to watch the surge of waving grass,
make deep inspire of hala bloom
beat down by pelting rain,—pour on!
i’d wreath my life with human love,
plant once again the tender flower
that blooms in the kingdom of dreams.
that is my dream, and here am i.
the audience, moved by lohiau’s ardor, went into riotous applause. hiiaka could not but admire the pathetic artistry of lohiau, yet she remained the mistress of her emotions. pele-ula, in contrast, became visibly more excited at lohiau’s close approach. turning to the younger woman, she said, “do you respond to this man’s appeals?”
“what is it you mean?” quietly asked hiiaka.
“can it be that you are not stirred by his protestations? put your hand on my bosom,” said pele-ula, “and feel the throbbing of my heart.”
hiiaka convinced herself of the truth of the assertion and, in turn, said, “do you also lay your hand here and judge of my temper.”
“you are as cool as a ti leaf,” exclaimed pele-ula, “while i am as hot as a bundle of luau.”
this interchange of attentions between the two women did not escape lohiau. it inflamed him to another passage of song:
moe e no wai-alua ke koolau,
ka hikina mai a ka-lawa-kua;
lele aoa i ka mikioi;
uwé aloha i ka pu’u-kolu.
aloha wai-olohia ke kohóla-lele, e
he lele pa-iki kau, kau ka manao—
ka ke aloha kamali’i—
he lalau, e; eia oe!
[183]
translation
two rivers that chafe their banks—
a mad rush to enter the sea—
by the tempest whipped into foam;
they roar and bark like hounds:
two souls that pine with love,—
a yearning for passion’s plunge—
their touch child’s play, as they kiss:—
ah, mine the master’s lunge!
from his very nature lohiau was not qualified to reckon with the supernatural side of hiiaka. his appeals had been on the plain of human passion—such appeals as would have subdued and won the heart of an ordinary woman. still acting under these limitations, lohiau aimed and shot the arrow that emptied his quiver of song:
o haupu, mauna kilohana,
i ko’e ia e hula-ia a oki:
oki laula ka uka o puna,
lulumi i ka pua hau o malu-aka.
ho’i kao’o i ka wai olohia;
kinakina’i e eha ka pua o ka hala, la.
hala ke aloha, hoomanao iaia i akea,
i ka’awale ho’i kau oni’na—
oni’na mau ho’i, e: eia oe.
translation
thou mount of enchantment. haupu,
by the dancers greatly beset.—
the whole face of puna o’errun,
where clusters the bloom of the hau—
i, back-lame and sore in defeat,
shall master the smart of my wrong.
the love-bird has flown into space.
away from this wriggle and squirm.
you may twist, you may turn, you are here!
lohiau had broken with pele-ula; his last hope and appeal was [184]to hiiaka. he stood before her waiting her fateful decision. will she consent to turn the canoe-prow and fly back to kaua’i with him? he had won the woman’s heart in her, but not the deity that controlled her nature. the chain that bound her to the woman of the pit was too strong to be broken by any mere human appeal. lohiau had failed in his play with the kilu; he now saw that he had also failed in his attempt to play with this human heart. the game was up; he sat down.
when lohiau had retired in defeat, it became the turn of wahine-oma’o to entertain the company—wahine-oma’o, faithful, rustic soul, that she was, whose only acquaintance with this fine art was what she had picked up from seeing the performances of her mistress and master. her wits did not desert her and were equal to the occasion: best of all, she had the wit to recognize her own limitations. instead of pitching her song to some far-fetched hyperbole, she travestied the whole performance in a wholesome bit of nonsense that drifts down to us across the centuries as a most delicious take-off:
o ku, o ka o wahine-oma’o.
wahine ia lohiau-ipo!
translation
the flim and the flam
of the woman-in-green,
handmaid to the man
who loveth the queen.
if wahine-oma’o had, of set purpose, planned an ironical take off of the hula kilu, or rather of lohiau’s manner of acting, she could hardly have bettered her performance. her dancing was a grotesque ambling and mincing from one side of the theater to the other. the unaffected good humor of the girl robbed the arrow of her wit of all venom while detracting not one whit from its effectiveness.
towards morning the audience made clamorous demands that hiiaka, the woman whom their suffrage had declared to be the most beautiful that had ever stood before them, should present herself before them once again. hiiaka willingly responded to this encore: [185]
ku’u kane i ka makani hau alia
o maka-huna i hua-wá, e:
wa iho la; ke wa wale mai la no
kaua hilahila moe awa-kea
iluna o ka laau.
ho’olaau mai ana ke ki’i,
kaunu mai ana ia’u ka moe—
e moe ho’i, e!
translation
hot breath from the sea-sand waste—
love hid from day in a thicket of hau—
for shame, my man, such clamor and haste!
the eye of day is open just now.
make love, aperch, a bird in a tree!
you clamor for bed in the open:
to bed with yourself!—to bed!
1wa’a-hila is said to have been the name of a favorite hula of pele-ula; so called after a princess who, with her brother ka-manu-wai, excelled in the performance of this dance. her name has been perpetuated in an old saying that has come down to us: ka ua wa’a-hila o nu’uanu. this is a gentle rain that extends only as far down nu’uanu valley as to wyllie or judd street. ↑
2po puna. puna, as the home-center of volcanic action, knew what it was to be darkened by a volcanic eruption. puna here stands for hiiaka and her companion whose home it was. the night that overshadows puna represents allegorically the intriguing designs of pele-ula. ↑
3maka lehua. the lehua buds stand for the harmony, kindly affection and love that up to this time had existed between lohiau and the two women escorting him. pele-ula is the smoke that blights the lehua buds. ↑
4kihei-hei, frequentative form of kihei, to wear. ↑
5paü heihei. the pau heihei was a fringe of vegetable ribbons strung together and worn about the loins, thus serving as the conventional shield of modesty among the people of the olden time. the modifying expression, o uka, implies that the use of this particular form of pau was rather a sign of rusticity. ↑
6papa lohi o mau-kele, glistening lava plates of mau-kele. mau-kele was a land in puna. the implication is that these women, pele-ula, waikiki and the rest of them are plotting to steal away the affections of lohiau. ↑
7ha’a ho’i ka papa, the lava plates rock: that is the plot is a shaky fabrication and will.… ↑
8kahuli, topple over. ↑
9puna. there is a punning double entendre involved in the use of this word here. a puna-lua was one who shared with another the sexual favors of a third party. the implication is that hiiaka and wahine-oma’o stood thus towards lohiau. see also note (a). ↑
10lau o ka lima, leaves of the hand. the spasmodic working (ha’a) of the fingers was deemed to be a sign of lustful passion. it is here attributed to lohiau. ↑
11loha, to droop, to be fooled; here to be understood in the latter sense of pele-ula. ↑
12wahine-kapu, one of the female deities of the pele family who had her seat on an eminence at the brink of the caldera of kilauea which was reverenced as a tabu place. ↑
13mai o’olu-e?. o’olu-ea, as a place-name calls for a preposition in mai. o’olu-ea, however, contains within it a verb, olu, to be easy, comfortable, and as a verb olu decides the mai to be an adverb of prohibition. in this meaning the caution is addressed to lohiau. ↑
14ahi-a-laka, a land in puna. the double sense, in which it is here used, gives it a reference to the fires of passion. ↑
15la anoano, literally, quiet day. ↑
16 the kilu, which gave name to the sport, was an egg-shaped dish made by cutting a coconut or small gourd from end to end and somewhat obliquely so that one end was a little higher than the other. ↑
17au-hula-ana. when the road along a steep coast is cut off by a precipice with the ocean tossing at its base, the traveler will often prefer to swim rather than make a wide inland detour. such a place or such an adventure is called an au-hula or au-hula-ana. ↑
18laau ku’i, literally, spliced sticks; a ladder, or some contrivance of the sort to aid the traveler in climbing a pali. ↑
19lalo, below, to leeward; therefore to the west, meaning lohiau, who came from the leeward island of kauai. ↑
20manawa, the fontanelles; the heart and affections. ↑
21wai-lua, a river on kauai. ↑
22lehua-wehe, a land in honolulu; here meaning pele-ula herself. ↑
23moe-awakea, a hill in puna; here used for its etymological signification—literally, to sleep at noontime—which is brought out in the translation. ↑
24 the ami was a vigorous action of the body, often employed by dancers. its chief feature was a rotation of the pelvis in circles of elipses. though sometimes used with amorous intent, it was not necessarily an attempt to portray sexual attitudes. the ami honua, or ami ku’u pau, was an exaggerated action of the same description. ↑
25kalukalu, a place in puna which supported extensive forests of hala (pandanus), a tree whose sword-shaped leaves were edged with fierce thorns. in contrast with the smart they produced the poet adduces the delights of the wilds in his own island of kauai, instancing the laua’e, a fragrant vine that abounds in its mountains. ↑
26mohole, an unusual form for pohole, to be lacerated, but not quite so strong. ↑
27na-pali (the cliffs), a name given to the precipitous side of kauai, where is the wild valley of ka-lalau. ↑
28pu’u o moe-awa. the full form is moe-awakea (noonday sleep), the name of a hill in puna. by omitting kea, the word awakea (noon) comes to mean bitter, thus imparting to the meaning a cutting irony. cf. note (a), page 176. ↑
29hana-lei, literally, to make a wreath; a valley on kauai. ↑
30hala. it was ill luck to wear a wreath of the hala drupe.
