Among the numerous relatives of Pele was one said to be a sister, who was stationed on a bleak sun-burnt promontory in Koolau, Oahu, where she supported a half-starved existence, striving to hold soul and body together by gathering the herbs of the fields, eked out by unsolicited gifts of food contributed by passing travelers. The pathetic plaint given below is ascribed to this goddess. _Mele_ Mao wale i ka lani Ka leo o ke Akua pololi. A pololi a moe au O ku’u la pololi, 5 A ola i kou aloha; I na’i pu no i ka waimaka e uwe nei. E uwe kaua, e! [Translation.] _Song_ Engulfed ill heaven’s abyss Is the cry of the famished god. I sank to the ground from faintness, My day of utter starvation; 5 Was rescued, revived, by your love: Ours a contest of tears sympathetic— Let us pour out together our tears. The Hawaiian thought it not undignified to express sympathy (_aloha-ino_) with tears. [Page 244] XXXVI.—THE HULA HOO-NA-NÁ The hula _hoo-na-ná_—to quiet, amuse—was an informal dance, such as was performed without the usual restrictions of tabu that hedged about the set dances of the halau. The occasion of an outdoor festival, an _ahaaina_ or _luau_, was made the opportunity for the exhibition of this dance. It seems to have been an expression of pure sportiveness and mirth-making, and was therefore performed without sacrifice or religious ceremony. While the king, chiefs, and _aialo_—courtiers who ate in the king’s presence—are sitting with the guests about the festal board, two or three dancers of graceful carriage make a circuit of the place, ambling, capering, gesturing as they go in time to the words of a gay song. A performance of this sort was witnessed by the author’s informant in Honolulu many years ago; the occasion was the giving of a royal luau. There was no musical instrument, the performers were men, and the mele they cantillated went as follows: