Pele broke forth in great rage when her people slunk back, their errand not half accomplished. “Ingrates, I know you. Out of pity for that handsome fellow, you have just made a pretense and thrown a few cinders at his feet. Go back and finish your work. Go!”
Hiiaka, on witnessing the second charge of the fire-brigade, again broke forth in song:
Hulihia Kilauea, po i ka uahi;
Nalowale i ke awa[1] ka uka o ka Lua.
Moana Heëia—la kapu i ke Akua!
Haki palala-hiwa ke alo o ka pohaku;
Ai’na makai a’ahu, koe ka oka—
Koe mauka o ka Lae Ohi’a.
Haki’na ka hala, apana ka pohaku;
Kiké ka alá; uwé ka mamane—