Part 12
The mele next presented is by no means a modern production. It seems to be the work of some unknown author, a fragment of folklore, it might be called by some, that has drifted down to the present generation and then been put to service in the hula. If hitherto the word _folklore_ has not been used it is not from any prejudice against it, but rather from a feeling that there exists an inclination to stretch the application of it beyond its true limits and to make it include popular songs, stories, myths, and the like, regardless of its fitness of application. Some writers, no doubt, would apply this vague term to a large part of the poetical pieces which are given in this book. [Page 114] On the same principle, why should they not apply the term folklore to the myths and stories that make up the body of Roman and Greek mythology? The present author reserves the term folklore for application to those unappropriated scraps of popular song, story, myth, and superstition that have drifted down the stream of antiquity and that reach us in the scrap-bag of popular memory, often bearing in their battered forms the evidence of long use.
Mele
Hiki mai, niki mai ka La, e. Aloha wale ka La e kau nei, Aia malalo o Ka-wai-hoa,[247] A ka lalo o Kauai, o Lehua. 5 A Kauai au, ike i ka pali; A Milo-lii[248] pale ka pali loloa. E kolo ana ka pali o Makua-iki;[249] Kolo o Pu-á, he keiki, He keiki makua-ole ke uwe nei.
[Translation.]
_Song_
It has come, it has come; lo the Sun! How I love the Sun that’s on high; Below it swims Ka-wai-hoa, On the slope inclined from Lehua. 5 On Kauai met I a pali, A beetling cliff that bounds Milo-lii, And climbing up Makua-iki, Crawling up was Pua, the child, An orphan that weeps out its tale.
The writer has rescued the following fragment from the wastebasket of Hawaiian song. A lean-to of modern verse has been omitted; it was evidently added within a generation:
_Mele_
Malua,[250] ki’i wai ke aloha, Hoopulu i ka liko mamane. Uleuleu mai na manu, Inu wai lehua o Panaewa,[251] 5 E walea ana i ke onaona, Ke one wali o Ohele. [Page 115] Hele mai nei kou aloha A lalawe i ko’u nui kino, Au i hookohu ai, 10 E kuko i ka manao. Kuhi no paha oe no Hopoe[252] Nei lehua au i ka hana ohi ai.
[Footnote 247: Kawaihoa. The southern point of Niihau, which is to the west of Kauai, the evident standpoint of the poet, and therefore “below” Kauai.]
[Footnote 248: _Milo-lii_. A valley on the northwestern angle of Kauai, a precipitous region, in which travel from one point to another by land is almost impossible.]
[Footnote 249: _Makua-iki_. Literally “little father,” a name given to an overhanging pali, where was provided a hanging ladder to make travel possible. The series of palis in this region comes to an end at Milo-lii.]
[Footnote 250: The _Malua_ was a wind, often so dry that it sucked up the moisture from the land and destroyed the tender vegetation.]
[Footnote 251: Panaewa was a woodland region much talked of in poetry and song.]
[Footnote 252: _Hopoe_ was a beautiful young woman, a friend of Hiiaka, and was persecuted by Pele owing to jealousy. One of the forms in which she as a divinity showed herself was as a lehua tree in full bloom.]
[Translation.]
_Song_
Malua, fetch water of love, Give drink to this mamane bud. The birds, they are singing ecstatic, Sipping Panaewa’s nectared lehua, 5 Beside themselves with the fragrance Exhaled from the garden Ohele. Your love comes to me a tornado; It has rapt away my whole body, The heart you once sealed as your own, 10 There planted the seed of desire. Thought you ’twas the tree of Hopoe, This tree, whose bloom you would pluck?
What is the argument of this poem? A passion-stricken swain, or perhaps a woman, cries to _Malua_ to bring relief to his love-smart, to give drink to the parched _mamane_ buds—emblems of human feeling. In contrast to his own distress, he points to the birds caroling in the trees, reveling in the nectar of _lehua_ bloom, intoxicated with the scent of nature’s garden. What answer does the lovelorn swain receive from the nymph he adores? In lines 11 and 12 she banteringly asks him if he took her to be like the traditional lehua tree of Hopoe, of which men stood in awe as a sort of divinity, not daring to pluck its flowers? It is as if the woman had asked—if the poet’s meaning is rightly interpreted—“Did you really think me plighted to vestal vows, a tree whose bloom man was forbidden to pluck?” [Page 116]
XV.—THE HULA KA-LAAU
The hula _ka-laau_ (_ka_, to strike; _laau_, wood) was named from the instruments of wood used in producing the accompaniment, a sort of xylophone, in which one piece of resonant wood was struck against another. Both divisions of the performers, the hoopaa and the olapa, took part and each division was provided with the instruments. The cantillation was done sometimes by one division alone, sometimes by both divisions in unison, or one division would answer the other, a responsive chanting that was termed _haawe aku, haawe mai_—“to give, to return.”
Ellis gives a quotable description of this hula, which he calls the “hura ka raau:”
Five musicians advanced first, each, with a staff in his left hand, five or six feet long, about three or four inches in diameter at one end, and tapering off to a point at the other. In his right hand he held a small stick of hard wood, six or nine inches long, with which he commenced his music by striking the small stick on the larger one, beating time all the while with his right foot on a stone placed on the ground beside him for that purpose. Six women, fantastically dressed in yellow tapas, crowned, with garlands of flowers, having also wreaths of native manufacture, of the sweet-scented flowers of the _gardenia_, on their necks, and branches of the fragrant _mairi_ (another native plant,) bound round their ankles, now made their way by couples through the crowd, and, arriving at the area, on one side of which the musicians stood, began their dance. Their movements were slow, and, though not always graceful, exhibited nothing offensive to modest propriety. Both musicians and dancers alternately chanted songs in honor of former gods and chiefs of the islands, apparently much to the gratification of the spectators. (Polynesian Researches, by William Ellis, IV, 78–79, London, 1836.)
The mele here first presented is said to be an ancient mele that has been modified and adapted to the glorification of that astute politician, genial companion, and pleasure-loving king, Kalakaua.
It was not an uncommon thing for one chief to appropriate the _mele inoa_ of another chief. By substituting one name for another, by changing a genealogy, or some such trifle, the skin of the lion, so to speak, could be made to cover with more or less grace and to serve as an apparel of masquerade for the ass, and without interruption so long as there was no lion, or lion’s whelp, to do the unmasking.
The poets who composed the mele for a king have been spoken of as “the king’s washtubs.” Mele inoa were not crown-jewels [Page 117] to be passed from one incumbent of the throne to another. The practice of appropriating the mele inoa composed in honor of another king and of another line was one that grew up with the decadence of honor in times of degeneracy.
_Mele_
O Kalakaua, he inoa, O ka pua mae ole i ka la; Ke pua mai la i ka mauna, I ke kuahiwi o Mauna-kea; 5 Ke a la i Ki-lau-e-a, Malamalama i Wahine-kapu, I ka luna o Uwe-kahuna, I ka pali kapu o Ka-au-e-a. E a mai ke alii kia-manu; 10 Ua Wahí i ka hulu o ka mamo, Ka pua nani o Hawaii; O Ka-la-kaua, he inoa!
[Translation.]
Song
Ka-la-kaua, a great name, A flower not wilted by the sun; It blooms on the mountains, In the forests of Mauna-kea; 5 It burns in Ki-lau-e-a, Illumines the cliff Wahine-kapu, The heights of Uwe-kabuna, The sacred pali of Ka-au-e-a. Shine forth, king of bird-hunters, 10 Resplendent in plumage of mamo, Bright flower of Hawaii: Ka-la-kaua, the Illustrious!
The proper names _Wahine-kapu, Uwe-kahuna_, and _Ka-au-e-a_ in the sixth, seventh, and eighth verses are localities, cliffs, bluffs, precipices, etc., in and about the great caldera of Kilauea, following up the mention (in the fifth verse) of that giant among the world’s active volcanoes.
The purpose of the poem seems to be to magnify the prowess of this once famous king as a captivator of the hearts and loving attentions of the fair sex.
_Mele_
Kona kai opua[253] i kala i ka la’i; Opua hinano ua i ka malie; Hiolo na wai naoa a ke kehau, [Page 118] Ke’ na-ú[254] la na kamalii, 5 Ke kaohi la i ke kukuna o ka la; Ku’u la koili i ke kai— Pumehana wale ia aina! Aloha wale ke kini o Hoolulu, Aohe lua ia oe ke aloha, 10 O ku’u puni, o ka me’ owá.
[Footnote 253: _Opua_ means a distinct cloud-pile, an omen, a weather-sign.]
[Footnote 254: The word _na-ú_ refers to a sportive contest involving a trial of lung-power, that was practised by the youth of Kona, Hawaii, as well as of other places. They stood on the shore at sunset, and as the lower limb of the sun touched the ocean horizon each one, having filled his lungs to the utmost, began the utterance of the sound _na-u-u-u-u_, which he must, according to the rules of the game, maintain continuously until the sun had disappeared, a lapse of about two minutes’ time. This must be done without taking fresh breath. Anyone inhaling more air into his lungs or intermitting the utterance of the sound was compelled by the umpire to withdraw from the contest and to sit down, while anyone who maintained the droning utterance during the prescribed time was declared victor. It was no mean trial.]
[Translation.]
_Song_
The cloud-piles o’er Kona’s sea whet my joy, Clouds that drop fain in fair weather. The clustered dew-pearls shake to the ground; The boys drone out the na-ú to the West, 5 Eager for Sol to sink to his rest.
This my day for a plunge in the sea— The Sun will be warming other shores— Happy the tribes of that land of calm! Fathomless, deep is my love 10 To thee, my passion, my mate.
The author of this love-song, _mele ipo_, is said to have been Kalola, a widow of Kamehameha I, at a time when she was an old woman; the place was Lahaina, and the occasion an amour between Liholiho (Kamehameha II) and a woman of rank. The last two verses of the poem have been omitted from the present somewhat free, yet faithful translation, as they do not seem to be of interest or pertinent from our point of view, and there is internal evidence that they were added as an afterthought.
The hulas on the various islands differed somewhat from one another. In general, it may be said that on Kauai they were presented with more spirit and in greater variety than in other parts of the group. The following account will illustrate this fact:
About the year 1870 the late Queen Emma made the tour of the island of Kauai, and at some places the hula was performed as a recreation in her honor. The hula ka-laau was thus presented; it was marked, however, by such peculiarities as to make it hardly recognizable as being the same performance as the one elsewhere known by that name. As given on Kauai, both the olapa and the hoopaa took part, as they do on the [Page 119] other islands, but in the Kauai performance the olapa alone handled the two sticks of the xylophone, which in other parts formed the sole instrument of musical accompaniment to this hula. Other striking novelties also were introduced. The olapa held between their toes small sticks with which they beat upon a resonant beam of wood that lay on the floor, thus producing tones of a low pitch. Another departure from the usual style of this hula was that the hoopaa, at the same time, devoted themselves with the right hand to playing upon the pu-niu, the small drum, while with the left they developed the deep bass of the pahu. The result of this outre combination must have been truly remarkable.
It is a matter of observation that on the island of Kauai both the special features of its spoken language and the character of its myths and legends indicate a closer relationship to the groups of the southern Pacific, to which the Hawaiian people owe their origin, than do those of the other islands of the Hawaiian group. [Page 120]
XVI.—THE HULA ÍLI-ÍLI
The _hula íli-íli_, pebble-dance, was a performance of the classical times, in which, according to one who has witnessed it, the olapa alone took part. The dancers held in each hand a couple of pebbles, _ili-ili_—hence the name of the dance—which they managed to clash against each other, after the fashion of castanets, thus producing a rude music of much the same quality as that elicited from the “bones” in our minstrel performances. According to another witness, the drum also was sometimes used in connection with the pebbles as an accompaniment to this hula.
The ili-ili was at times a hula of intensity—that is to say, was acted with that stress of voice and manner which the Hawaiians termed _ai-ha’a_; but it seems to have been more often performed in that quiet natural tone of voice and of manner termed _ko’i-honua_, which may be likened to utterance in low relief.
The author can present only the fragment of a song to illustrate this hula:
_Mele_
A lalo maua o Wai-pi’o, Ike i ka nani o Hi’i-lawe. E lawe mai a oki I na hala o Naue i ke kai, 5 I na lehua lu-lu’u pali; Noho ana lohe i ke kani o ka o-ó, Hoolono aku i ka leo o ke kahuli.
[Translation.]
_Song_
We twain were lodged in Wai-pi’o, Beheld Hi’i-lawe, the grand. We brought and cut for our love-wreath The rich hala drupe from Naue’s strand, 5 Tufted lehua that waves on the cliff; Then sat and gave ear to song of o-ó, Or harked the chirp of the tree-shell.
_Wai-pi’o_, the scene of this idyl, is a valley deep and broad which the elements have scooped out in the windward exposure of Hawaii, and scarce needs mention to Hawaiian [Page 121] tourists. _Hi’i-lawe_ is one of several high waterfalls that leap from the world of clouds into the valley-basin.
BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 38 PLATE XII [Illustration: PUPU-KANI-OE, POETICALLY STYLED KAHULI HAWAIIAN TREE-SHELLS (ACHATINELLA)]
_Kahuli_ is a fanciful name applied to the beautiful and unique genus of tree-shells (Achatinella), plate XII, that inhabit the Hawaiian woods. The natives are persuaded that these shells have the power of chirping a song of their own, and the writer has often heard the note which they ascribe to them; but to his ear it was indistinguishable from the piping of the cricket. This is the song that the natives credit to the tree-shells:
_Mele_
Kahuli aku, Kahuli mai, Kahuli lei ula, Lei akolea.[255] 5 Kolea, kolea,[256] Ki’i ka wai, Wai akolea.
[Translation.]
_Song of the Tree-shell_
Trill a-far, Trill a-near, A dainty song-wreath, Wreath akolea. 5 Kolea, Kolea, Fetch me some dew, Dew from pink akolea.
This little piece of rustic imagination is said to have been used in the hula, but in connection with what dance the author has not been able to learn.
[Footnote 255: The _akolea_ is a fern (by some classed as a Polypodium) which, according to Doctor Hillebrand (Flora of the Hawaiian Islands), “sustains its extraordinary length by the circinnate tips which twine round the branches of neighboring shrubs or trees.”]
[Footnote 256: _Kolea_. The red-breasted plover.] [Page 122]
XVII.—THE HULA KÁ-ÉKE-ÉKE
The _kaekeeke_ was a formal hula worthy of high consideration. Some authorities assert that the performers in this dance were chosen from the hoopaa alone, who, it will be remembered, maintained the kneeling position, while, according to another authority, the olapa also took part in it. There is no reason for doubting the sincerity of both these witnesses. The disagreement probably arose from hasty generalization. One is reminded of the wise Hawaiian saw, already noted, “Do not think that your halau holds all the knowledge.”
This hula took its name from the simple instrument that formed its musical accompaniment. This consisted of a single division of the long-jointed bamboo indigenous to Hawaii, which was left open at one end. (The varieties of bamboo imported from China or the East Indies have shorter joints and thicker walls, and will not answer the purpose, being not sufficiently resonant.) The joints used in the kaekeeke were of different sizes and lengths, thus producing tones of various pitch. The performer held one in each hand and the tone was elicited by striking the base of the cylinder sharply against the floor or some firm, nonresonant body.
On making actual trial of the kaekeeke, in order to prove by experience its musical quality and capabilities, the writer’s pleasure was as great as his surprise when he found it capable of producing musical tones of great purity and of the finest quality. Experiment soon satisfied him that for the best production of the tone it was necessary to strike the bamboo cylinder smartly upon some firm, inelastic substance, such as a bag of sand. The tone produced was of crystalline purity, and by varying the size and length of the cylinders it proved possible to represent a complete musical scale. The instrument was the germ of the modern organ.
The first mele to be presented partakes of the nature of the allegory, a form of composition not a little affected by the Hawaiians:
_Mele_
A Hamakua au, Noho i ka ulu hala. Malihini au i ka hiki ana, I ka ua pe’epe’e pohaku. 5 Noho oe a li’u-li’u, A luli-luli malie iho. [Page 123] He keiki akamai ko ia pali; Elima no pua i ka lima. Kui oe a lawa 10 I lei no ku’u aloha; Malama malie oe i ka makemake, I lei hooheno no ke aloha ole.
Moe oe a ala mai; Nana iho oe i kou pono. 15 Hai’na ia ka puana: Keiki noho pali o Hamakua; A waka-waka, a waka-waka.
[Translation.]
_Song_
It was in Hamakua; I sat in a grove of Pandanus, A stranger at my arrival, A rock was my shelter from rain. 5 I found it a wearisome wait, Cautiously shifting about.
There’s a canny son of the cliff That has five buds to his hand. You shall twine me a wreath of due length, 10 A wreath to encircle my love, Whilst you hold desire in strong curb, Till love-touch thaws the cold-hearted.
When you rise from sleep on the mat, Look down, see the conquest of love. 15 The meaning of this short story? What child fondly clings to the cliff? Waka-waka, the shell-fish.
The scene of this idyl, this love-song, _mele hoipoipo_, is Hamakua, a district on the windward side of Hawaii, subject to rain-squalls. The poet in his allegory represents himself as a stranger sitting in a pandanus grove, _ulu hala_ (verse 2); sheltering himself from a rain-squall by crouching behind a rock, _ua pe’epe’e pohaku_ (verse 4); shifting about on account of the veering of the wind, _luli-luli malie iho_ (verse 6). Interpreting this figuratively, Hamakua, no doubt, is the woman in the case; the grove an emblem of her personality and physical charms; the rain-squall, of her changeful moods and passions. The shifting about of the traveler to meet the veering of the wind would seem to mean the man’s diplomatic efforts to deal with the woman’s varying caprices and outbursts.
He now takes up a parable about some creature, a child of the cliff—Hamakua’s ocean boundary is mostly a precipitous wall—which he represents as a hand with five buds. Addressing it as a servant, he bids this creature twine a [Page 124] wreath sufficient for his love, _kui oe a_ _lawa_ (verse 9), _I lei no ku’u aloha_ (verse 10). This creature with five buds, what is it but the human hand, the errand-carrier of man’s desire, _makemake_ (verse 11)? The _pali_, by the way, is a figure often used by Hawaiian poets to mean the glory and dignity of the human body.
That is a fine imaginative touch in which the poet illustrates the power of the human hand to kindle love in one that is cold-hearted, as if he had declared the hand itself to be not only the wreath-maker, but the very wreath that is to encircle and warm into response the unresponsive loved one, _I lei hooheno no ke aloha ole_ (verse 12).
Differences of physical environment, of social convention, of accepted moral and esthetic standards interpose seemingly impassable barriers between us and the savage mind, but at the touch of an all-pervading human sympathy these barriers dissolve into very thin air.
_Mele_
Kahiki-nui, auwahi[257] ka makani! Nana aku au ia Kona, Me ke kua lei ahi[258] la ka moku; Me ke lawa uli e, la, no 5 Ku’u kai pa-ú hala-ká[259] I ka lae o Hana-maló;[260] Me he olohe ili polohiwa, Ke ku a mauna, Ma ka ewa lewa[261] Hawaii. 10 Me he ihu leiwi la, ka moku, Kou mauna, kou palamoa:[262] Kau a waha mai Mauna-kea[263] A me Mauna-loa,[263] Ke ku a Maile-hahéi.[264] 15 Uluna mai Mauna Kilohana[265] I ka poohiwi o Hu’e-Hu’e.[265]
[Footnote 257: _Auwahi_ (a word not found in any dictionary) is said by a scholarly Hawaiian to be an archaic form of the word _uwahi_, or _uahi_ (milk of fire), smoke, _Kahiki-nui_ is a dry region and the wind (_makani_) often fills the air with dust.]
[Footnote 258: _Kua lei ahi_. No Hawaiian has been found who professes to know the true meaning of these words. The translation of them here given is, therefore, purely formal.]
[Footnote 259: _Pa-ú halaká_. An expression sometimes applied to the hand when used as a shield to one’s modesty; here it is said of the ocean (_kai_) when one’s body is immersed in it.]
[Footnote 260: _Hana-maló_. A cape that lies between Kawaihae and Kailua in north Kona.]
[Footnote 261: _Ewa lewá_. In this reading the author has followed the authoritative suggestion of a Hawaiian expert, substituting it for that first given by another, which was _elewa_. The latter was without discoverable meaning. Even as now, given conjectures as to its meaning are at variance. The one followed presents the less difficulty.]
[Footnote 262: _Palamoa_. The name of a virulent _kupua_ that acted as errand-carrier and agent for sorcerers (_kahuna ánaaná_); also the name of a beautiful grass found on Hawaii that has a pretty red seed. Following the line of least resistance, the latter meaning has been adopted; in it is found a generic expression for the leafy covering of the island.]
[Footnote 263: _Mauna-kea_ and _Mauna-loa_. The two well-known mountains of the big island of Hawaii.]
[Footnote 264: _Maile-hahei_. Said to be a hill in Kona.]
[Footnote 265: _Kilohana_ and _Hu’e-hu’e_. The names of two hills in Kona, Hawaii.]
[Page 125]
[Translation.]
_Song_