And found him at Maka-hana-loa.
Far away are the uplands of Puna;
One girdle still serves for you and for me.
Never till now such yearning, such sadness!
Where art thou, Kane-hoa-lani?
O Father Kane, where art thou?
Hail to thee, O Father, and hail to me!
When rose the pilot-star we sailed away.
Hail, girl who beats out tapa for women—
The home-coming wife who watches the wind,