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