together in the pleasures and, it might be, the profits of
the hula. Their spokesman--designated as the _po'o-puaa_,
from the fact that a pig, or a boar's head, was required of
him as an offering at the kuahu--was authorized to secure the
services of some expert to be their kumu. But with the hula
all roads lead to the king's court.

Let us imagine a scene at the king's residence. The alii,
rousing from his sloth and rubbing his eyes, rheumy with
debauch and _awa_, overhears remark on the doings of a new
company of hula dancers who have come into the neighborhood.
He summons his chief steward.

"What is this new thing of which they babble?" he demands.

"It is nothing, son of heaven," answers the kneeling steward.

"They spoke of a hula. Tell me, what is it?"

"Ah, thou heaven-born (_lani_), it was but a trifle--a new
company, young graduates of the halau, have set themselves up
as great ones; mere rustics; they have no proper acquaintance
with the traditions of the art as taught by the bards of...
your majesty's father. They mouth and twist the old songs
all awry, thou son of heaven."

"Enough. I will hear them to-morrow. Send a messenger for
this new kumu. Fill again my bowl with awa."
[Page 27]
Thus it comes about that the new hula company gains audience
at court and walks the road that, perchance, leads to
fortune. Success to the men and women of the hula means not
merely applause, in return for the incense of flattery; it
means also a shower of substantial favors--food, garments,
the smile of royalty, perhaps land--things that make life a
festival. If welcome grows cold and it becomes evident that
the harvest has been reaped, they move on to fresh woods and
pastures new.

To return from this apparent digression, it was at the king's
court--if we may extend the courtesy of this phrase to a
group of thatched houses--that were gathered the bards and
those skilled in song, those in whose memories were stored
the mythologies, traditions, genealogies, proverbial wisdom,
and poetry that, warmed by emotion, was the