The Legends and Myths of Hawaii: The fables and folk-lore of a strange people

by King of Hawaii David Kalakaua

A STORY OF THE VENGEANCE OF THE GODDESS PELE.

Between Cape Kumakahi, the extreme eastern point of the island of Hawaii, and the great lava flow of 1840, which burst forth apparently from a long subterranean channel connecting with the crater of Kilauea, and went down to the sea at Nanawale over villages and groves of palms, is a small historic district which, notwithstanding the repeated volcanic disturbances with which it has been convulsed in the past, the chasms with which it has been rent, and the smoke and ashes that have shut out the light of the sun and driven its people to the protection of their temples, still possesses many fertile nooks and natural attractions. Within a few miles of each other, not far inland, are a number of extinct craters; but the rains are abundant in Puna, and spring is eternal, and the vegetation grows rank above hidden patches of lava, and is constantly stretching and deepening its mantle of green over the vitreous rivers of Kilauea and the lower and lesser volcanic vents clinging to its base like so many cauterized ulcers.

The valleys are green in that part of Puna now, and there the banana and the bread-fruit grow, and the ohia and pineapple scent the air. But so has it not always been, for the mango ripens over fields of buried lava, and the palms grow tall from the refilled chasms of dead streams of fire. The depression of Kapoho, now sweet with tropical odors, marks the site of a sunken mountain, and where to-day sleep the quiet waters of a lake once boiled a sea of liquid lava, in a basin broader, perhaps, than the mighty caldron of Kilauea.

We are now about to speak of one of the many irruptions which at intervals in the past poured their desolating torrents of fire through the district, alternately loved and hated by Pele, the dreadful goddess of the volcanoes. In connection with it tradition has brought down a tale combining elements of simplicity and grandeur strikingly characteristic of the mythological legends of Polynesia—legends equaling the Norse in audacity, but lacking the motive and connecting causes of the Greek. They are simply legendary epics, beginning in caprice and abruptly ending, in many instances, in grandest tumult. They are like chapters torn from a lost volume—patches of disturbed elements and gigantic forms and energies clandestinely cut from a passing panorama and placed in the foreground of strange and inharmonious conditions. They embrace gods reminding us of Thor, monsters more hideous than Polyphemus, demi-gods mighty as the son of Thetis, and kings with strains reaching back to the loins of gods; but in motive and action they were independent of, and not unfrequently hostile to, each other. No celestial synod shaped their course or moved them to effort, and to no authority higher than their individual wills were they usually responsible. Many of them were created with no reference to the necessity of their being or the maintenance of divine respect or authority, and not a few seem to have been the creations of accident.

As an example the demi-god Maui may be mentioned. As told by tradition, his principal abode was Hawaii, although his facilities for visiting the other islands of the group will be considered ample when it is stated that he could step from one to another, even from Oahu to Kauai, a distance of seventy miles. When he bathed—and bathing was one of his greatest delights—his feet trod the deepest basins of the ocean and his hair was moistened with the vapor of the clouds. Neither his creator nor the purpose of his creation is mentioned; but he was blest with a wife with proportions, it is presumed, somewhat in keeping with his own, and as an evidence of their attachment it is related that at one time he reached up and seized the sun, and held it for some hours motionless in the heavens, to enable his industrious spouse to complete the manufacture of a piece of kapa upon which she was engaged.

And Kana was another gigantic being of similar proportions. He, too, was partial to Hawaii, and could step from island to island, and frequently stood for his amusement with one foot on Oahu and the other either on Maui or Kauai. Tradition may have confounded these two monsters; but, as Kana was wifeless, we are constrained to regard them as distinct; and, being without the care of a wife, he was enabled to devote his entire attention to himself and the inhabitants of the islands crawling at his feet. Hence, when the king of Kahiki, who was the keeper of the sun, shut its light from the Hawaiians for some trivial offence, Kana waded the ocean to the home of the vindictive monarch, and by threats compelled him to restore the light to the Hawaiian group. This done, he waded back and hung his mantle to dry on Mauna Kea, which was then an active volcano. Another demi-god of the same name is also referred to in some of the early meles of Hawaii. He was the son of Hina, who went with his brother to the rescue of their mother, who had been during their infancy abducted by the son of the king of Molokai. He was endowed by his grandmother, a sorceress from one of the southern islands, with the faculty of so elongating and contracting his person as to be able to pass through the deepest waters with his head at all times above the surface.

The shadows of these and other monsters are seen far back in the past; but human beings of gigantic proportions, of natural birth and claiming no connection with the gods, are mentioned in Hawaiian folk-lore as having lived as late as the beginning of the sixteenth century. Thus, during the reign of Umi, king of Hawaii, whose romantic ascent to the throne is the theme of chant and song, and to whom the past and present dynasties of united Hawaii trace their descent, lived the giant Maukaleoleo. He was one of Umi’s warriors, and must have been a mighty host in himself. His measure in feet is not recorded, but he stood upon the ground and plucked cocoanuts from the tallest trees, and once, without wetting his loins, strode out into six fathoms of water and saved the life of his chief. As the traditions relating to Umi are quite elaborate and circumstantial, the existence of Maukaleoleo cannot well be doubted, however greatly we may feel disposed to curtail his proportions.

But, in groping among these monsters of the Hawaiian past, we have been led somewhat from the story of the irruption in Puna, to which reference has been made. However, as pertinent to it, and to the goddess whose wrath invoked it, it may be mentioned that many centuries ago a family of gods and goddesses came to Hawaii from Tahiti and took possession of the volcanic mountains of that island. The family consisted of five brothers and nine sisters, of which Pele was the principal deity. The others possessed specific powers and functions, such as controlling the fires, smoke, steam, explosions, etc., of the volcanoes under their supervision. Although they frequently dwelt in other volcanoes, their principal and favorite abode was the crater of Kilauea. Almost without exception they were destructive and merciless. Temples were erected to Pele in every district menaced by volcanic disturbance, and offerings of fruits, animals, and sometimes of human beings were laid upon her altars and thrown into the crater to secure her favor or placate her wrath. In the legend of “The Apotheosis of Pele” a more extended reference is made to the goddess and her family.

With this knowledge of the power and disposition of Pele, the reader will be prepared for the story of the exhibition of her wrath in Puna, which will now be related nearly in the language of tradition. The event occurred during the reign of Kahoukapu, who from about 1340 to 1380 was the alii-nui, or governing chief, of Hawaii. The chief of the district of Puna was Kahavari, a young noble distinguished for his strength, courage and manly accomplishments. How he came to be chief or governor of Puna is not stated. As his father and sister lived on Oahu, he was probably a native of that island, and may have been advanced to his position through military service rendered the Hawaiian king, since it was customary in those days, as it was at later periods, for young men of martial tastes to seek adventure and employment at arms with the kings and chiefs of neighboring islands.

The grass-thatched mansion of the young chief was near Kapoho, where his wife lived with their two children, Paupoulu and Kaohe; and at Kukii, no great distance away, dwelt his old mother, then on a visit to her distinguished son. As his taro lands were large and fertile, and he had fish-ponds on the sea-shore, he entertained with prodigality, and the people of Puna thought there was no chief like him in all Hawaii.