I elua mai la, pono au.
Olelo I ke aka,
Ka hele ho'okahi, e;
Mamina ka leo—
He leo wale no, e-e!
TRANSLATION
I made a misstart on my journey;
I've come to repair my neglect.
A need, a request, brings me back,
To plead in thy presence once more:
Joy springs up within;
There's calm in the Pit.
Give me but a travel-mate:
That would content me.
Who travels alone has
For speech-mate his shadow.
Futile is speech, with
No answering voice—
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 au-
