Paoa found many things that were new and strange to him in this big raw island of Hawaii. Not the least of these was the land on which he trod, in places a rocky shell covering the earth like the plates on the back of the turtle, or, it might be, a tumble of jagged rocks--the so-called aä--a terrain quite new to his experience. It seemed as if the world-maker had not completed his work.
Of the route to Kilauea he was quite ignorant, but he was led. There flitted before him a shadow, a wraith, a shape and he followed it. At times he thought he could recognize the form of Lohiau and, at night or in the deep shadows of the forest, he seemed to be looking into the face of his friend.
When night came he lay down in a sheltered place and slept. In the early morning, while darkness yet brooded over the land, he was roused by the appearance of a light. His first thought was that day had stolen upon him: but no, it was the kino wailua of his friend that had come to awaken him and lead him on the last stage of his journey.
PAOA SEEKS OUT THE BODY OF HIS DEAD FRIEND LOHIAU
Under the lead of his spiritual guide, Paoa arrived that day at Kilauea and, standing at the brink of the great caldera, he saw the figure of Lohiau beckoning to him as it stood on a heap of volcanic debris. The wraith dissolved into nothingness as he approached the spot; but there lay a figure in stone having the semblance of a man. It was more an act of divination than the exercise of ordinary judgment that told him this was the body of Lohiau. "I thought you had summoned me to take home your living body, my friend!" was his exclamation. His voice was broken with emotion as he poured out his lament:
Mau a'alina oe mauka o Ka-la-ke-ahi; Ma Puna ka huli mai ana; Ka ua a Makali'i, Ke ua la i Laau, I Kaú, i Ka-hihi, i Ka-pe'a, I ke wao a ke akua. Eia ho'i au la, o ka Maka-o-ke-ahi; Aole ho'i na la o ka Lawa-kua, Ke Koolau la, e, aloha! Aloha ku'u hoa i ka ua anu lipoa, Hu'ihu'i, ko'eko'e, kaoü: He ahi ke kapa o kaua e mehana ai, E lala ai kaua i Oma'o-lala; I pili wale, i ha'alele la, e. Ha'alele i Wailua na hoa aloha-- O Puna, aina aloha, O Puna, i Kaua'i.
Thou bundle of scars from a fiery day, 'Twas at Puna our journey began, With a dash of rain in the summer; Rain again when we entered the woods, Rain, too, in Kaú, in the jungle, In the forest-haunts of the gods, Rain at each crossing of road and path:-- Here stand I, with fire in my eye: Our days of communion are gone; You've bidden adieu to Ko'olau: Hail now to my mate of the gloomy rain-- When wet and cold and chilled to the bone, Our garment of warmth the blazing hearth; Then basked we at Oma'o-lala, Haunting the place, then tearing away. E'en so you tore away from your friends, Those friends of Wailua, of Puna-- That dear land of Puna, Kaua'i!