Empty words, only a voice.
(The exigencies of the narrative have induced me, in the above song, to couple together two mele which the story-tellers have given us as belonging to two separate incidents in Hiiaka’s fence with Pele.)
“Your request is reasonable,” said Pele; “to travel alone is indeed to converse with one’s shadow. You shall have a companion.”
Pele designated a good-natured waiting woman as her attendant, who had the poetical name of Paú-o-pala’e (or Paú-o-palaá). This faithful creature heartily accepted the trust, that of kahu—a servant with the pseudo responsibility of a guardian—and, having expressed her fealty to her new mistress, she at once took her station. Thus everything seemed arranged for a start on the eventful journey.
The terms and conditions of Hiiaka’s going were not even yet to the satisfaction of her watchful sisters and relatives. One matter of vital importance had been omitted from the outfit: Pele had not bestowed upon Hiiaka the mana, power and authority, to overcome and subdue all the foes that would surely rise up to oppose and defeat her. With wild gestures they signalled to Hiiaka once more to return.
Hiiaka’s answering song, though pointed with blame, gives proof that her own intuitions were not entirely at fault:
A ka luna, i Pu’u-onioni,
Noho ke anaina a ke ’Kua.
Kilohi a’ ku’u maka ilalo,
I ka ulu o Wahine-kapu: