Chapter VII: Part 7

Given in the Fornander Collection, Vol. IV, Part I, of the Memoirs of the Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum, with the title He Moolelo no Aukelenuiaiku, the Legend of Aukelenuiaiku.

Like many another Polynesian hero, Au-ke-le (to cut down his name from the many-syllabled one which means Great Au-ke-le, son of Iku) was the youngest born of his family. Fornander thought that his story “has marked resemblances in several features to the Hebrew account of Joseph and his brethren, and is traced back to Cushite origin through wanderings and migrations”—an idea which is wholly fantastic. The story as I have retold it is very much condensed.

Au-ke-le’s grandmother is a mo-o—literally, a lizard. Dr. Nathaniel Emerson and Mr. William Hyde Rice translate “mo-o” by “dragon,” and I fancy that “mo-o” created a sufficiently vague conception to allow the fantastic and terrifying dragon to become its representative. On the other hand, “dragon” tends to bring in a conception that is not Polynesian. I have not rendered “mo-o” by either “lizard” or “dragon.” I prefer to let “mo-o” remain mysterious. Note what Mr. Westervelt says about the “mo-o” or “dragon” being a reminiscence of creatures of another environment.

The story of Au-ke-le is mythical: it is a story about the Polynesian gods. Au-ke-le and his brothers go from one land of the gods to another. The “Magic” that he carries in his calabash is a godling that his grandmother made over to him. There are many things in this story that are difficult to make intelligible in a retelling. It is difficult, for instance, to convey the impression that the maids whom the Queen sends to Au-ke-le, and her brothers too, were reduced to abject terror by Au-ke-le’s disclosing their names. But to the Polynesians, as to other primitive peoples, names were not only private, and intensely private, but they were sacred. To know one’s name was to be possessed of some of one’s personality; magic could be worked against one through the possession of a name. Our names are public. But suppose that a really private name—a name that was given to us by our mother as a pet name—was called out in public: how upset we might be! Stevenson’s mother named him “Smootie” and “Baron Broadnose.” How startled R. L. S. might have been if a stranger in a strange land had addressed him by either name!

Later on Au-ke-le goes on the quest that was the Polynesian equivalent of the Quest of the Holy Grail; he goes in quest of the Water of Everlasting Life, the Water of Kane. The Polynesian thought that there was no blessing greater than that of a long life. There are many stories dealing with the Quest of the Water of Kane, and there is one poem that has been translated beautifully by Dr. Nathaniel Emerson. It is given in his Unwritten Literature of Hawaii.

A query, a question,
I put to you:
Where is the Water of Kane?
At the Eastern Gate
Where the Sun comes in at Haehae;
There is the Water of Kane.

A question I ask of you:
Where is the Water of Kane?
Out there with the floating Sun,
Where cloud-forms rest on the Ocean’s breast,
Uplifting their forms at Nohoa,
This side the base of Lehua;
There is the Water of Kane.

One question I put to you:
Where is the Water of Kane?
Yonder on mountain peak,
On the ridges steep,
In the valleys deep,
Where the rivers sweep;
There is the Water of Kane.

This question I ask of you:
Where, pray, is the Water of Kane?
Yonder, at sea, on the ocean,
In the drifting rain,
In the heavenly bow,
In the piled-up mist-wraith,
In the blood-red rainfall,
In the ghost-pale cloud-form;
There is the Water of Kane.

One question I put to you:
Where, where is the Water of Kane?
Up on high is the Water of Kane,
In the heavenly blue,
In the black-piled cloud,
In the black-black cloud,
In the black-mottled sacred cloud of the gods;
There is the Water of Kane.

One question I ask of you:
Where flows the Water of Kane?
Deep in the ground, in the gushing spring,
In the ducts of Kane and Loa,
A well-spring of water, to quaff,
A water of magic power—
The water of Life!
Life! O give us this life!

The story of Au-ke-le has a solemn if not a tragic ending, which is unusual in Polynesian stories. Its close makes one think of that chant that Melville heard the aged Tahitians give “in a low, sad tone”:

A harree ta fow,
A toro ta farraro,
A now ta tararta.
The palm-tree shall grow,
The coral shall spread,
But man shall cease.

PI-KO-I: THE BOY WHO WAS GOOD AT SHOOTING ARROWS

Given in the Fornander Collection, Vol. IV, Part III, of the Memoirs of the Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum, with the title Kaao No Pikoiakaalala, Legend of Pikoiakaalala (Pi-ko-i, the son of the Alala).

His father was Raven or Crow, his sisters were Rat and Bat. The arrows that Pi-ko-i shot were not from the sort of bow that we are familiar with; the Hawaiian bow, it must be noted, was not a complete bow. The string hung untied from the top of the shaft; the shooter put the notch of the arrow into the hanging string, whipped forward the shaft, and at the same time cast the arrow, which was light, generally an arrow of sugar-cane. The arrow was never used in war; it was used in sport—to shoot over a distance, and at birds and at rats that were held in some enclosure. The bird that cried out was evidently the elepaio. “Among the gods of the canoe-makers,” says Mr. Joseph Emerson, “she held the position of inspector of all koa trees designed for that use.” The Hawaiian interest in riddles enters into Pi-ko-i’s story.

PAKA: THE BOY WHO WAS REARED IN THE LAND THAT THE GODS HAVE SINCE HIDDEN

Given in the Fornander Collection, Vol. V, Part II, of the Memoirs of the Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum, with the title Kaao no Kepakailiula, the Legend of Kepakailiula.

Pali-uli, where Paka’s uncles reared him, is the Hawaiian paradise. In a chant that Fornander quotes it is described:

O Pali-uli, hidden Land of Kane,
Land in Kalana i Hauola,
In Kahiki-ku, in Kapakapaua of Kane,
The Land whose foundation shines with fatness,
Land greatly enjoyed by the god.

“This land or Paradise,” says Fornander, “was the central part of the world ... and situated in Kahiki-ku, which was a large and extensive continent.” Paka emerges from this Fairy-land into a world that is quite diurnal when he sets about winning Mako-lea. The boxing, spear-throwing, and riddling contests that he engages in reflect the life of the Hawaiian courts.

THE STORY OF HA-LE-MA-NO AND THE PRINCESS KAMA

Given in the Fornander Collection, Vol. V, Part II, of the Memoirs of the Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum, with the title Kaao no Halemano, Legend of Ha-le-ma-no.

Kama, or, to give her her full name, Kamalalawalu, was living under a strict tapu. Ha-le-ma-no is no thoughtless tapu-breaker, as are other young men in Hawaiian romance; there is very little of the mythical element in this story; the enchantress-sister, however, is a figure that often comes into Hawaiian romance. This story is remarkable for its vivid rendering of episodes belonging to the aristocratic life—the surf-riding, surely the greatest of sports to participate in, as it is the most thrilling of sports to watch; the minstrelsy; the gambling. The poems that Ha-le-ma-no and Kama repeat to each other are very baffling, and are open to many interpretations. In this respect they are like most Hawaiian poetry, which has a deliberate obscurity that might have won Mallarmé’s admiration.

THE ARROW AND THE SWING

This is one of the most famous of the Hawaiian stories. It is given in the Fornander Collection, Vol. V, Part I, of the Memoirs of the Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum, with the title He Kaao no Hiku a me Kawelu, the Legend of Hi-ku and Ka-we-lu. It should be remembered that Hi-ku’s arrow was more for casting than for shooting: the game that he was playing at the opening of the story consisted in casting his arrow, Pua-ne, over a distance. Ka-we-lu was living under tapu. But, like many another heroine of Polynesian romance, she was not reluctant about having the tapu broken. There is one very puzzling feature in this story. Why did Ka-we-lu not give her lover food? Her failure to provide something for him is against all traditions of Hawaiian hospitality. Of course, in the old days, men and women might not eat together; Ka-we-lu, however, could have indicated to Hi-ku where to go for food. The food at hand might have been for women only, and tapu as regards men. Or it might have been tapu for all except people of high rank. If this was what was behind Ka-we-lu’s inhospitality it would account for a bitterness in Hi-ku’s anger—she was treating him as a person of a class beneath her. But these are guesses merely. I have asked those who were best acquainted with the Hawaiian tradition to clear up the mystery of Ka-we-lu’s behavior in this particular, but they all confessed themselves baffled by it. The poems that Ka-we-lu chants to Hi-ku, like the poems that Ha-le-ma-no chants to Kama, have a meaning beneath the ostensible meaning of the words.

With regard to Ka-we-lu’s death it should be remembered that according to Polynesian belief the soul was not single, but double. A part of it could be separated or charmed away from the body; the spirit that could be so separated from the body was called hau. In making the connection between Hi-ku and the lost Ka-we-lu I have gone outside the legend as given in the Fornander Collection. I have brought in Lolupe, who finds lost and hidden things. This godling is connected with the Hi-ku-Ka-we-lu story through a chant given by Dr. Nathaniel Emerson in his notes to David Malo’s Hawaiian Antiquities.

Mr. Joseph Emerson gives this account of Lua o Milu, the realm of Milu, the Hawaiian Hades: “Its entrance, according to the usual account of the natives, was situated at the mouth of the great valley of Waipio, on the island of Hawaii, 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.” Fornander says that the realm of Milu was not entirely dark. “There was light and there was fire in it.” The swing chant that I have given to Hi-ku does not belong to the legend; it is out of a collection of chants that accompany games. The Hawaiian swing was different from ours; it was a single strand with a cross-piece, and it was pulled and not pushed out.

Mr. Joseph Emerson, in a paper that I have already quoted from, The Lesser Hawaiian Gods, says that Hi-ku’s mother was Hina, the wife of Ku, one of the greater Polynesian gods. In that case, Hi-ku was originally a demi-god.

THE DAUGHTER OF THE KING OF KU-AI-HE-LANI

Given in the Fornander Collection, Vol. IV, Part III, of the Memoirs of the Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum, with the title Kaao no Laukiamanuikahiki. The girl’s full name means “Bird catching leaf of Kahiki.” Her mother is Hina, a mortal woman apparently, but her father is a demi-god, a dweller in “the Country that Supports the Heavens.” In the original, Ula the Prince is the son of Lau-kia-manu’s father; such a relation as between lover and lover is quite acceptable in Hawaiian romance. When she comes into her father’s country the girl incurs the death-penalty by going into a garden that has been made tapu. Lau-kia-manu, in Kahiki-ku, seems to have the rôle of Cinderella; however, the Hawaiian story-teller gives her a ruthlessness that is not at all in keeping with our notion of a sympathetic character.

THE FISH-HOOK OF PEARL

This simple tale is given in the Fornander Collection, Vol. IV, Part III, of the Memoirs of the Bernice Pauahi Museum, with the title Kaao no Aiai, the Legend of Aiai.

THE STORY OF KANA, THE YOUTH WHO COULD STRETCH HIMSELF UPWARDS

This story is given in the Fornander Collection, Vol. IV, Part III, with the title Kaao no Kana a Me Niheu, Legend of Kana and Niheu. Mr. Thrum speaks of the legend of Kana and Niheu as having “ear-marks of great antiquity and such popularity as to be known by several versions.” The chant in which his grandmother prays for a double canoe for Kana is over a hundred lines long; Miss Beckwith speaks of this chant as being still used as an incantation.

THE ME-NE-HU-NE

There are no stories of the Me-ne-hu-ne in the Fornander Collection. Fornander uses the name, but only as implying the very early people of the Islands. According to W. D. Alexander the name Me-ne-hu-ne is applied in Tahiti to the lowest class of people.

The account of the Me-ne-hu-ne that I give is taken from two sources—from Mr. William Hyde Rice’s Hawaiian Legends, published by the Bishop Museum, and from Mr. Thomas Thrum’s Stories of the Menehunes, published by A. C. McClurg & Co., Chicago. I am indebted to Mr. Rice for the part that treats of the history of the Me-ne-hu-ne, and to Mr. Thrum for the two stories, “Pi’s Watercourse” and “Laka’s Adventure.”

Beginning with “The Me-ne-hu-ne,” I have treated the stories as if they were being told to a boy by an older Hawaiian. I have imagined them both as being with a party who have gone up into the highlands to cut sandalwood. That would be in the time of the first successors of Kamehameha, when the sandalwood of the islands was being cut down for exportation to China, “the land of the Pa-ke.” As the party goes down the mountain-side the boy gathers the ku-kui or candle-nuts for lighting the house at night.

THE STORY OF MO-E MO-E: ALSO A STORY ABOUT PO-O AND ABOUT KAU-HU-HU THE SHARK-GOD, AND ABOUT MO-E MO-E’S SON, THE MAN WHO WAS BOLD IN HIS WISH

The story of Opele, who came to be called Mo-e Mo-e, is given in the Fornander Collection, Vol. V, Part I, of the Memoirs of the Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum, with the title He Kaao no Opelemoemoe, Legend of Opelemoemoe; the story about Po-o is given in the Memoirs of the Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum, Vol. V, Part III (the stories in this volume do not belong to the Fornander Collection); the story about the Shark-God is taken from an old publication of the Islands, the Maile Quarterly; the story of the Man who was Bold in his Wish is given in the Fornander Collection, Vol. IV, Part III, of the Memoirs of the Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum, with the title Kaao no Kalelealuaka a Me Keinohoomanawanui, the Legend of Kalelealuaka and Keinohoomanawanui.

THE WOMAN FROM LALO-HANA, THE COUNTRY UNDER THE SEA

This story is taken from David Malo’s Hawaiian Antiquities. A variant is given in the Fornander Collection. There are many Hinas in Hawaiian tradition, but the Hina of this story is undoubtedly the Polynesian moon-goddess.

HINA, THE WOMAN IN THE MOON

This story is from Mr. Westervelt’s Ma-ui the Demi-God. The husband of this Hina was Aikanaka.

FOOTNOTES

[1] Quoted by Melville in Typee, Chapter XXV. The chronicle of de Figeroas’s voyage—the voyage by which the Marquesas were discovered and the Polynesians looked upon for the first time by European man—was published in Madrid, according to Melville, in 1613. Mendaña’s voyage was made in 1595.

[2] By Ivor H. N. Evans, M.A., Cambridge University Press, 1923.

[3] Written kapu in Hawaiian and taboo by the mariners who came first amongst the Polynesians. I have been instructed to write the word tapu. Its meaning is not merely “forbidden”: it means “sacred,” “inviolate,” “belonging to the gods.” In the four stories in the present collection where tapu is in operation I have made no attempt to explain its significance; I have merely said that it was forbidden to go to that place or go near that person.

[4] Published by the Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum of Polynesian Ethnology and Natural History, 1923.