mislead him into attributing to them a capacity for true love:
"I have seen several instances where the women have
preferred personal beauty to interest, though I must own
that, even in these cases, they seem scarcely susceptible of
those delicate sentiments that are the result of mutual
affection; and I believe that there is less Platonic love in
Otaheite than in any other country."

Not that Captain Cook was infallible. When he came across the Tonga
group he gave it the name of "Friendly Islands," because of the
apparently amicable disposition of the natives toward him; but, as a
matter of fact, their intention was to massacre him and his crew and
take the two ships--a plan which would have been put in execution if
the chiefs had not had a dispute as to the exact mode and time of
making the assault.[188] Cook was pleased with the appearance and the
ways of these islanders; they seemed kind, and he was struck at seeing
"hundreds of truly European faces" among them. He went so far as to
declare that it was utterly wrong to call them savages, "for a more
civilized people does not exist under the sun." He did not stay with
them long enough to discover that they were morally not far above the
other South Sea Islanders.


WERE THE TONGANS CIVILIZED?

Mariner, who lived among the Tongans four years, and whose adventures
and observations were afterward recorded by Martin, gives information
which indicates that Cook was wrong when he said that a more civilized
people does not exist under the sun. "Theft, revenge, rape and
murder," Mariner attests (II., 140), "under many circumstances are not
held to be crimes." It is considered the duty of married women to
remain true to their husbands and this, Mariner thinks, is generally
done. Unmarried women "may bestow their favors upon whomsoever they
please, without any opprobrium" (165). Divorced women, like the
unmarried, may admit temporary lovers without the least reproach or
secresy.

"When a woman is taken prisoner (in war) she generally has
to submit; but this is a thing of course, and considered
neither an outrage nor dishonor; the only dishonor being to
be a prisoner and consequently a sort of servant to the
conqueror. Rape, though always considered an outrage, is not
looked upon as a crime unless the woman be of such rank as
to claim respect from the perpetrator" (166).

Many of their expressions, when angry, are

"too indelicate to mention." "Conversation is often
intermingled with allusions, even when women are present,
which could not be allowed in any decent society in
England."

Two-thirds of the women

"are married and are soon divorced, and are married again
perhaps three, four, or five times in their lives." "No man
is understood to be bound to conjugal fidelity; it is no
reproach to him to intermix his amours." "Neither have they
any word expressive of chastity except _nofo mow_, remaining
fixed or faithful, and which in this sense is only applied
to a married woman to signify her fidelity to her husband."

Even the married women of the lower classes had to yield to the wishes
of the chiefs, who did not hesitate to shoot a resisting husband.
(Waitz-Gerland, VI., 184.)

While these details show that Captain Cook overrated the civilization
of the Tongans, there are other facts indicating that they were in
some respects superior to other Polynesians, at any rate. The women
are capable of blushing, and they are reproached if they change their
lovers too often. They seem to have a dawning sense of the value of
chastity and of woman's claims to consideration. In Mariner's
description (I., 130) of a chief's wedding occurs this sentence:

"The dancing being over, one of the old matabooles (nobles)
addressed the company, making a moral discourse on the
subject of chastity--advising the young men to respect, in
all cases, the wives of their neighbors, and never to take
liberties even with an unmarried woman against her free
consent."

The wives of chiefs must not go about without attendants. Mariner
says, somewhat naïvely, that when a man has an amour, he keeps it
secret from his wife,

"not out of any fear or apprehension, but because it is
unnecessary to excite her jealousy, and make her perhaps
unhappy; for it must be said, to the honor of the men, that
they consult in no small degree, and in no few respects, the
happiness and comfort of their wives."

If Mariner tells the truth, it must be said in this respect that the
Tongans are superior to all other peoples we have so far considered in
this book. Though the husband's authority at home is absolute, and
though one girl in every three is betrothed in her infancy, men do
not, he says, make slaves or drudges of their wives, or sell their
daughters, two out of every three girls being allowed to choose their
own husbands--"early and often." The men do most of the hard work,
even to the cooking. "In Tonga," says Seemann (237), "the women have
been treated from time immemorial with all the consideration demanded
by their weaker and more delicate constitution, not being allowed to
perform any hard work." Cook also found (II., 149) that the province
allotted to the men was "far more laborious and extensive than that of
the women," whose employments were chiefly such as may be executed in
the house.


LOVE OF SCENERY

If we may rely on Mariner there is still another point in which the
Tongans appear to be far above other Polynesians, and barbarians in
general. He would have us believe that while they seldom sing about
love or war, they evince a remarkable love of nature (I., 293). He
declares that they sometimes ascend a certain rock to "enjoy the
sublime beauty of the surrounding scenery," or to reflect on the deeds
of their ancestors. He cites a specimen of their songs, which, he
says, is often sung by them; it is without rhymes or regular measure,
and is given in a sort of recitative beginning with this highly poetic
passage:

"Whilst we were talking of _Vaváoo toóa Licoo_, the women
said to us, let us repair to the back of the island to
contemplate the setting sun: there let us listen to the
warbling of the birds and the cooing of the wood-pigeon. We
will gather flowers ... and partake of refreshments ... we
will then bathe in the sea and ... anoint our skins in the
sun with sweet-scented oil, and will plait in wreaths the
flowers gathered at _Matáwlo_. And now, as we stand
motionless on the eminence over _Ana Mánoo_, the whistling
of the wind among the branches of the lofty _toa_ shall fill
us with a pleasing melancholy; or our minds shall be seized
with astonishment as we behold the roaring surf below,
endeavoring but in vain to tear away the firm rocks. Oh! how
much happier shall we be thus employed, than when engaged in
the troublesome and insipid affairs of life."

Inasmuch as Mariner did not take notes on the spot, but relied on his
memory after an absence of several years, it is to be feared that the
above passage may not be unadulterated Tongan. The rest of the song
has a certain Biblical tone and style in a few of the sentences which
arouse the suspicion (remember Ossian!) that a missionary may have
edited, if not composed, this song. However that may be, the remainder
of it gives us several pretty glimpses of Tongan amorous customs and
may therefore be cited, omitting a few irrelevant sentences:

"Alas! how destructive is war!--Behold! how it has rendered
the land productive of weeds, and opened untimely graves for
departed heroes! Our chiefs can now no longer enjoy the
sweet pleasure of wandering alone by moonlight in search of
their mistresses: but let us banish sorrow from our hearts:
since we are at war, we must think and act like the natives
of Fiji, who first taught us this destructive art. Let us
therefore enjoy the present time, for to-morrow perhaps or
the next day we may die. We will dress ourselves with _chi
coola_, and put bands of white _tappa_ round our waists: we
will plait thick wreaths of _jiale_ for our heads, and
prepare strings of _hooni_ for our necks, that their
whiteness may show off the color of our skins. Mark how the
uncultivated spectators are profuse of their applause!--But
now the dance is over: let us remain here to-night, and
feast and be cheerful, and to-morrow we will depart for the
_Móoa_. How troublesome are the young men, begging for our
wreaths of flowers, while they say in their flattery, 'See
how charming these young girls look coining from
_Licoo_!--how beautiful are their skins, diffusing around a
fragrance like the flowery precipice of _Mataloco_:' Let us
also visit _Licoo_; we will depart to-morrow."


A CANNIBAL BARGAIN

This story intimates, what may be true, that the Fijians first taught
the Tongans the art of war, and if the Tongans were not originally a
warlike people, we would have in that significant fact alone an
explanation of much of their superiority to other Pacific islanders.
The Fijians also appear to have taught them cannibalism, to which,
however, they never became so addicted as their teachers. Mariner (I.,
110-111) tells a story of two girls who, in a time of scarcity, agreed
to play a certain game with two young men on these conditions: if the
girls won, they were to divide a yam belonging to them and give half
to the men; if the two men won they were still to have their share of
the yam, but they were to go and kill a man and give half his body to
the girls. The men won and promptly proceeded to carry out their part
of the contract. Concealing themselves near a fortress, they soon saw
a man who came to fill his cocoanut shells with water. They rushed on
him with their clubs, brought the body home at the risk of their
lives, divided it and gave the young women the promised half.


THE HANDSOME CHIEFS

To Captain Cook the muscular Tongan men conveyed the suggestion of
strength rather than of beauty. They have, however, a legend which
indicates that they had a high opinion of their personal appearance.
It is related by Mariner (II., 129-34).

The god Langai dwelt in heaven with his two daughters. One
day, as he was going to attend a meeting of the gods, he
warned the daughters not to go to Tonga to gratify their
curiosity to see the handsome chiefs there. But hardly had
he gone when they made up their minds to do that very thing.
"Let us go to Tonga," they said to each other; "there our
celestial beauty will be appreciated more than here where
all the women are beautiful." So they went to Tonga and, arm
in arm, appeared before the feasting nobles, who were
astounded at their beauty and all wanted the girls. Soon the
nobles came to blows, and the din of battle was so great
that it reached the ears of the gods. Langai was despatched
to bring back and punish the girls. When he arrived, one of
them had already fallen a victim to the contending chiefs.
The other he seized, tore off her head, and threw it into
the sea, where it was transformed into a turtle.


HONEYMOON IN A CAVE

On the west coast of the Tongan Island of Hoonga there is a peculiar
cave, the entrance to which is several feet beneath the surface of the
sea, even at low water. It was first discovered by a young chief,
while diving after a turtle. He told no one about it, and luckily, as
we shall see. He was secretly enamoured of a beautiful young girl, the
daughter of a certain chief, but as she was betrothed to another man,
he dared not tell her of his love. The governor of the islands was a
cruel tyrant, whose misdeeds at last incited this girl's father to
plot an insurrection. The plot unfortunately was discovered and the
chief with all his relatives, including the beautiful girl, condemned
to be taken out to sea in a canoe and drowned.

No time was to be lost. The lover hastened to the girl, informed her
of her danger, confessed his love, and begged her to come with him to
a place of safety. Soon her consenting hand was clasped in his; the
shades of evening favored their escape; while the woods afforded her
concealment until her lover had brought a canoe to a lonely part of
the beach. In this they speedily embarked, and as he paddled her
across the smooth water he related his discovery of the cavern
destined to be her asylum till an opportunity offered of conveying her
to the Fiji Islands.

When they arrived at the rock he jumped into the water, and she
followed close after; they rose into the cavern, safe from all
possibility of discovery, unless he should be watched. In the morning
he returned to Vavaoo to bring her mats to lie on, and _gnatoo_
(prepared bark of mulberry-tree) for a change of dress. He gave her as
much of his time as prudence allowed, and meanwhile pleaded his tale
of love, to which she was not deaf; and when she confessed that she,
too, had long regarded him with a favorable eye (but a sense of duty
had caused her to smother her growing fondness), his measure of
happiness was full.

This cave was a very nice place for a honeymoon, but hardly for a
permanent residence. So the young chief contrived a way of getting her
out of the cavernous prison. He told his inferior chiefs that he
wanted them to take their families and go with him to Fiji. A large
canoe was soon got ready, and as they embarked he was asked if he
would not take a Tongan wife with him. He replied, No! but that he
should probably find one by the way. They thought this a joke, but
when they came to the spot where the cave was, he asked them to wait
while he went into the sea to fetch his wife. As he dived, they began
to suspect he was insane, and as he did not soon reappear they feared
he had been devoured by a shark.

While they were deliberating what to do, all at once, to their great
surprise, he rose to the surface and brought into the canoe a
beautiful young woman who, they all supposed, had been drowned with
her family. The chief now told the story of the cave, and they
proceeded to Fiji, where they lived some years, until the cruel
governor of Tonga died, whereupon they returned to that island.


A HAWAIIAN CAVE-STORY

In an interesting book called _The Legends and Myths of Hawaii,_ by
King Kalakaua, there is a tale called "Kaala, the Flower of Lanai; A
Story of the Spouting Cave of Palikaholo," which also involves the use
of a submarine cave, but has a tragic ending. It takes the King
fifteen pages to tell it, but the following condensed version retains
all the details of the original that relate directly to love:

Beneath a bold rocky bluff on the coast of Lanai there is a
cave whose only entrance is through the vortex of a
whirlpool. Its floor gradually rises from the water, and is
the home of crabs, polypi, sting-rays, and other noisome
creatures of the deep, who find here temporary safety from
their larger foes. It was a dangerous experiment to dive
into this cave. One of the few who had done it was Oponui, a
minor chief of Lanai Island. He had a daughter named Kaala,
a girl of fifteen, who was so beautiful that her admirers
were counted by the hundreds.

It so happened that the great monarch Kamehameha I. paid a
visit to Lanai about this time (near the close of the
eighteenth century). He was received with enthusiasm, and
among those who brought offerings of flowers was the fair
Kaala. As she scattered the flowers she was seen by
Kaaialii, one of the King's favorite lieutenants. "He was of
chiefly blood and bearing" with sinewy limbs and a handsome
face, and when he stopped to look into the eyes of Kaala and
tell her that she was beautiful, she thought the words,
although they had been frequently spoken to her by others,
had never sounded so sweetly to her before. He asked her for
a simple flower and she twined a _lei_ for his neck. He
asked her for a smile, and she looked up into his face and
gave him her heart.

After they had seen each other a few times the lieutenant
went to his chief and said:

"I love the beautiful Kaala, daughter of Oponui. Give her to
me for a wife."

"The girl is not mine to give," replied the King. "We must
be just. I will send for her father. Come to-morrow."

Oponui was not pleased when he was brought before the King
and heard his request. He had once, in war, narrowly escaped
death at the hand of Kaaialii and now felt that he would
rather feed his daughter to the sharks than give her to the
man who had sought his life. Still, as it would have been
unwise to openly oppose the King's wishes, he pretended to
regard the proposal with favor, but regretted that his
daughter was already promised to another man. He was,
however, willing, he added, to let the girl go to the victor
in a contest with bare hands between the two suitors.

The rival suitor was Mailou, a huge, muscular savage known
as the "bone breaker." Kaala hated and feared him and had
taken every occasion to avoid him; but as her father was
anxious to secure so strong an ally, his desire finally had
prevailed against her aversion.

Kaaialii was less muscular than his rival, but he had
superior cunning, and thus it happened that in the fierce
contest which followed he tripped up the "bone-breaker,"
seized his hair as he fell, placed his knees against his
back, and broke his spine.

Breaking away from her disappointed father Kaala sprang
through the crowd and threw herself into the victor's arms.
The king placed their hands together and said: "You have won
her nobly. She is now your wife. Take her with you."

But Oponui's wrath was greater than before, and he plotted
revenge. On the morning after the marriage he visited Kaala
and told her that her mother was dangerously ill at Mahana
and wanted to see her before she died. The daughter followed
him, though her husband had some misgivings. Arriving at the
seashore, the father told her, with a wild glare in his
eyes, that he had made up his mind to hide her down among
the gods of the sea until the hated Kaaialii had left the
island, when he would bring her home again. She screamed and
tried to escape, but he gathered the struggling girl in his
arms and jumped with her into the circling waters above the
Spouting Cave. Sinking a fathom or so, they were sucked
upward into the cave, where he placed her just above the
reach of the water among the crabs and eels, with scarcely
light enough to see them. He offered to take her back if she
would promise to accept the love of the chief of Olowalu and
allow Kaaialii to see her in the embrace of another. But she
declared she would sooner perish in the cave. Having warned
her that if she attempted to escape she would surely be
dashed against the rocks and become the food of the sharks,
he returned to the shore.

Kaaialii awaited his wife's return with his heart aching for
her warm embrace. He recalled the sullen look of Oponui, and
panic seized him. He climbed a hill to watch for her return
and his heart beat with joy when he saw a girl returning
toward him. He thought it was Kaala, but it was Ua, the
friend of Kaala and almost her equal in beauty. Ua told him
that his wife had not been seen at her mother's, and as her
father had been seen taking her through the forest, it was
feared she would not be allowed to return.

With an exclamation of rage Kaaialii started down toward the
coast. Here he ran across Oponui and tried to seize him by
the throat; but Oponui escaped and ran into a temple, where
he was safe from an attack. In a paroxysm of rage and
disappointment Kaaialii threw himself upon the ground
cursing the _tabu_ that barred him from his enemy. His
friends took him to his hut, where Ua sought to soothe and
comfort him. But he talked and thought alone of Kaala, and
after partaking hastily of food, started out to find her. Of
every one he met he inquired for Kaala, and called her name
in the deep valleys and at the hilltops.

Near the sacred spring of Kealia he met a white-haired
priest who took pity on him and told him where Kaala had
been hidden. "The place is dark and her heart is full of
terror. Hasten to her, but tarry not, or she will be the
food of the creatures of the sea."

Thanking the priest, Kaaialii hastened to the bluff. With
the words "Kaala, I come!" he sprang into the whirlpool and
disappeared. The current sucked him up and suddenly he found
himself in a chilly cave, feeling his way on the slimy floor
by the dim light. Suddenly a low moan reached his ear. It
was the voice of Kaala. She was lying near him, her limbs
bruised with fruitless attempts to leave the cave, and
no longer strong enough to drive away the crabs that were
feeding upon her quivering flesh. He lifted her up and bore
her toward the light. She opened her eyes and whispered, "I
am dying, but I am happy, for you are here." He told her he
would save her, but she made no response,
and when he put his hand on her heart he found she was dead.

For hours he held her in his arms. At length he was aroused
by the splashing of water. He looked up and there was Ua,
the gentle and beautiful friend of Kaala, and behind her the
King Kamehameha. Kaaialii rose and pointed to the body
before him. "I see," said the King, softly, "the girl is
dead. She could have no better burial-place. Come, Kaaialii,
let us leave it." But Kaaialii did not move. For the first
time in his life he refused to obey his King. "What! would
you remain here?" said the monarch. "Would you throw your
life away for a girl? There are others as fair. Here is Ua;
she shall be your wife, and I will give you the valley of
Palawai. Come, let us leave at once lest some angry god
close the entrance against us!"

"Great chief," replied Kaaialii, "you have always been kind
and generous to me, and never more so than now. But hear me;
my life and strength are gone. Kaala was my life, and she is
dead. How can I live without her? You are my chief. You have
asked me to leave this place and live. It is the first
request of yours I have ever disobeyed. It shall be the
last!" Then seizing a stone, with a swift, strong blow he
crushed in brow and brain, and fell dead upon the body of
Kaala.

A wail of anguish went up from Ua. Kamehameha spoke not,
moved not. Long he gazed upon the bodies before him; and his
eye was moist and his strong lips quivered as, turning away
at last, he said: "He loved her indeed!"

Wrapped in _kapa_, the bodies were laid side by side and
left in the cavern; and there to-day may be seen the bones
of Kaala, the flower of Lanai, and of Kaaialii, her knightly
lover, by such as dare seek the passage to them through the
whirlpool of Palikaholo.


IS THIS ROMANTIC LOVE?

These two Polynesian cave-stories are of interest from several points
of view. In Waitz-Gerland (VI., 125), the Tongan tale is referred to
as "a very romantic love-story," and if the author had known the
Hawaiian story he would have had even more reason to call it romantic.
But is either of these tales a story of romantic love? Is there
evidence in them of anything but strong selfish passion or eagerness
to possess one of the other sex? Is there any trace of the _higher_
phases of love--of unselfish attachment, sympathy, adoration, as of a
superior being, purity, gallantry, self-sacrifice? Not one. The
Hawaiian Kaaialii does indeed smash his own skull when he finds his
bride is dead. But that is a very different thing from sacrificing
himself to save or please _her_. We have seen, too, on how slight a
provocation these islanders will commit suicide, an act which proves a
weak intellect rather than strong feeling. A man capable of feeling
true love would have brains enough to restrain himself from committing
such a silly and useless act in a fit of disappointment.

There is every reason to believe, moreover, that these stories have
been embroidered by the narrators. In the vast majority of cases the
men who have had an opportunity to note down primitive love-stories
unfortunately did not hesitate to disguise their native flavor with
European sauce in order to make them more palatable to the general
public. This makes them interesting stories, made realistic by the use
of local color, but utterly mars them for the scientific epicure who
often relishes most what is caviare to the general. Take that Hawaiian
story. It is supposed to be told by King Kalakaua himself. At least,
the book of _Legend and Myths_ has "By His Hawaiian Majesty" on the
title page. Beneath those words we read that the book was edited by
the Hon. E.M. Daggett; and in the preface acknowledgment is made to as
many as eight persons "for material in the compilation of many of the
legends embraced in this volume." Thus there are ten cooks, and the
question arises, "did they carefully and conscientiously tell these
stories exactly as related to them by aboriginal Hawaiians, free from
missionary influences, or did they flavor the broth with European
condiments?" To this question no answer is given in the book, but
there is plenty of evidence that either the King himself, in order to
make his people as much like ours as possible, or his foreign
assistants, embellished them with sentimental details. To take only
two significant points: it sounds very sentimental to be told that the
girl Ua, after Kaaialii had jumped into the vortex "wailed upon the
winds a requiem of love and grief," but a native Hawaiian has no more
notion of the word requiem than he has of a syllogism. Then again, the
story is full of expressions like this: "His _heart beat with joy_,
for he thought she was Kaala;" or "He asked her for a smile and she
_gave him her heart_." Such phrases mislead not only the general
reader but careless anthropologists into the belief that the lower
races feel and express their love just as we do. As a matter of fact,
Polynesians do not attribute feelings to the heart. Ellis (II., 311),
could not even make them understand what he was talking about when he
tried to explain to them our ideas regarding the heart as a seat of
moral feeling. The fact that our usage in this respect is a mere
convention, not based on physiological facts, makes it all the more
reprehensible to falsify psychology by adorning aboriginal tales with
the borrowed plumes and phrases of civilization.


VAGARIES OF HAWAIIAN FONDNESS

It is quite possible that the events related in the cave-story did
occur; but a Hawaiian, untouched by missionary influences, would have
told them very differently. It is very much more likely, however, that
if a Hawaiian had found himself in the predicament of Kaaialii, he
would have sympathized with the king's contemptuous speech: "What!
would you throw your life away for a girl? There are others as fair.
Here is Ua; she shall be your wife." This would have been much more in
accordance with what observers have told us of Hawaiian
"heart-affairs." "The marriage tie is loose," says Ellis (IV., 315),
"and the husband can dismiss his wife on any occasion." "The loves of
the Hawaiians are usually ephemeral," says "Häolé," the author of
_Sandwich Island Notes_ (267). The widow seldom or never plants a
solitary flower over the grave of her lord. She may once visit the
mound that marks the repose of his ashes, but never again, unless by
accident. It not unfrequently happens that a second husband is
selected while the remains of the first are being conveyed to his
"long home." Hawaiian women seem more attached to pigs and puppies
than to their husbands or even their children. The writer just quoted
says whole volumes might be written concerning the "silly affection"
of the women for animals. They carry them in their bosoms, and do not
hesitate to suckle them. It is one of their duties to drive pigs to
the market, and one day "Häolé" came across a group of native women
who had taken off their only garments and soaked them in water to cool
their dear five hundred-pounder, while others were fanning him! As
late as 1881 Isabella Bird wrote (213) that

"the crime of infanticide, which formerly prevailed to
a horrible extent, has long been extinct; but the love
of pleasure and the dislike of trouble which partially
actuated it are apparently still stronger among the
women than the maternal instinct, and they do not take
the trouble necessary to rear infants.... I have
nowhere seen such tenderness lavished upon infants as
upon the pet dogs that the women carry about with
them."


HAWAIIAN MORALS

Hawaiians did not treat women as brutally as Fijians do; yet how far
they were from respecting, not to speak of adoring, them, is obvious
from the contemptuous and selfish taboos which forbade women, on
penalty of death, to eat any of the best and commonest articles of
food, such as bananas, cocoanuts, pork, turtle; or refused them
permission to eat with their lords and masters, or to share in divine
worship, because their touch would pollute the offerings to the gods.

The grossness of the Hawaiian erotic taste is indicated by "Häolé's"
reference (123) to "the immense corpulency of some of the old Hawaiian
queens, a feature which, in those days, was deemed the _ne plus ultra_
of female beauty." Incest was permitted to the chiefs, and the people
vied with their rulers in the grossest sensuality.

"Nearly every night, with the gathering darkness,
crowds would retire to some favorite spot, where, amid
every species of sensual indulgence, they would revel
until the morning twilight" (412).

"In Hawaii, whether the woman was married or single,
she would have been thought very churlish and boorish
if she refused any favor asked by a male friend of the
family,"

says E. Tregear;[189] and in Dibble's _History of the Sandwich
Islands_ (126-27) we read:

"For husbands to interchange wives, or for wives to
interchange husbands, was a common act of friendship,
and persons who would not do this were not considered
on good terms of sociability. For a man or a woman to
refuse a solicitation for illicit intercourse was
considered an act of meanness, and so thoroughly was
this sentiment wrought into their minds that, even to
the present day, they seem not to rid themselves of the
feeling of meanness in making a refusal."

The Hawaiian word for marriage is _hoao_, meaning "trial." It was also
customary for a married woman to have an acknowledged lover known as
_punula_. The word _hula hula_ is familiar the world over as the name
of an improper dance, but it is nothing to what it used to be. The
famous cave Niholua was consecrated to it. In past generations

"warriors came here to revel with their paramours. The
Tartarean gloom was slightly relieved by torches
ingeniously formed of strings of the candle-nut.
Beneath this rugged roof, and amid this darkness--their
faces strangely reflecting the feeble torch-light--and
divested of every particle of apparel, they
promiscuously united in dancing the _hula hula_ (the
licentious dance).... Wives were exchanged, and so were
concubines; fathers despoiled their own daughters, and
brothers deemed it no crime to perpetrate incest."

Waitz-Gerland (VI., 459) cite Wise as attesting that "in 1848 the
missionaries gave up a girls' school, because it was impossible to
preserve the virtue of their pupils," and Steen Bill wrote that in
1846 seventy per cent of all the crimes punished were of a lewd
character, and that on the whole island there was not a chaste girl of
eleven years of age. Isabella Bird wrote (169) that "the Hawaiian
women have no notions of virtue as we understand it, and if there is
to be any future for this race it must come through a higher
morality."


THE HELEN OF HAWAII

As there was practically no difference between married and unmarried
women in Hawaii, it is not strange that cases of abduction of wives
should have occurred. The following story, related in Kalakana's book,
probably suffered no great change at the hands of the recorder. I give
a condensed version of it:

In the twelfth century, the close of the second era of
migration from Tahiti and Samoa, there lived a girl
named Hina, noted as the most beautiful maiden on the
islands. She married the chief Hakalanileo, and had two
children by him. Reports of her beauty had excited the
fancy of Kaupeepee, the chief of Haupu. He went to test
the reports with his own eyes, and saw that they were
not exaggerated. So he hovered around the coast of Hilo
watching for a chance to abduct her. It came at last.
One day, after sunset, when the moon was shining, Hina
repaired to the beach with her women to take a bath. A
signal was given--it is thought by the first wife of
Hina's husband--and, not long after, a light but
heavily manned canoe dashed through the surf and shot
in among the bathers. The women screamed and started
for the shore. Suddenly a man leaped from the canoe
into the water. There was a brief struggle, a stifled
scream, a sharp word of command, and a moment later
Kaupeepee was again in the canoe with the nude and
frantic Hina in his arms. The boatmen lost no time to
start; they rowed all night and in the morning reach
Haupu.

Hina had been wrapped in folds of soft _kapa_, and she
spent the night sobbing, not knowing what was to become
of her. When shore was reached she was borne to the
captor's fortress and given an apartment provided with
every luxury. She fell asleep from fatigue, and when
she awoke and realized where she was it was not without
a certain feeling of pride that she reflected that her
beauty had led the famous and mighty Kaupeepee to
abduct her.

After partaking of a hearty breakfast, she sent for him
and he came promptly. "What can I do for you ?" he
asked. "Liberate me!" was her answer. "Return me to my
children!" "Impossible!" was the firm reply. "Then kill
me," she exclaimed. The chief now told her how he had
left home specially to see her, and found her the most
beautiful woman in Hawaii. He had risked his life to
get her. "You are my prisoner," he said, "but not more
than I am yours. You shall leave Haupu only when its
walls shall have been battered down and I lie dead
among the ruins."

Hina saw that resistance was useless. He had soothed
her with flattery; he was a great noble; he was gentle
though brave. "How strangely pleasant are his words and
voice," she said to herself. "No one ever spoke so to
me before. I could have listened longer." After that
she hearkened for his footsteps and soon accepted him
as her lover and spouse.

For seventeen years she remained a willing prisoner. In
the meantime her two sons by her first husband had
grown up; they ascertained where their mother was,
demanded her release, and on refusal waged a terrible
war which at last ended in the death of Kaupeepee and
the destruction of his walls.


INTERCEPTED LOVE-LETTERS

The Rev. H.T. Cheever prints in his book on the Sandwich Islands
(226-28) a few amusing specimens of the love-letters exchanged between
the native lads of the Lahainaluna Seminary and certain lasses of
Lahaina. The following ones were intercepted by the missionaries. The
first was penned by a girl:

"Love to you, who speakest sweetly, whom I did kiss. My
warm affections go out to you with your love. My mind
is oppressed in consequence of not having seen you
these times. Much affection for thee dwelling there
where the sun causeth the head to ache. Pity for thee
in returning to your house, destitute as you supposed.
I and she went to the place where we had sat in the
meeting-house, and said she, Let us weep. So we two
wept for you, and we conversed about you.

"We went to bathe in the bread-fruit yard; the wind
blew softly from Lahainaluna, and your image came down
with it. We wept for you. Thou only art our food when
we are hungry. We are satisfied with your love.

"It is better to conceal this; and lest dogs should
prowl after it, and it should be found out, when you
have read this letter, tear it up."

The next letter is from one of the boys to a girl:

"Love to thee, thou daughter of the Pandanus of
Lanahuli. Thou _hina hina_, which declarest the
divisions of the winds.[190] Thou cloudless sun of the
noon. Thou most precious of the daughters of the earth.
Thou beauty of the clear nights of Lehua. Thou
refreshing fountain of Keipi. Love to thee, O Pomare,