Hawaii - James Michener [196]
And as Kelolo chanted the historic summary of his people the little room was filled with the clash of-battle, the birth of gods, the abduction of beautiful women and the explosions of ancient volcanoes. Men in yellow capes, carrying spears, marched from one lava flow to another; queens fought for their children's rights and brave men perished in storms. In time Abner fell under the spell of the fabulous events, these made-up memories of a race, and when Kelolo and Malama and the canoe Wait-for-the-West-Wind made their second journey from Bora Bora to Hawaii the little missionary caught a momentary thrill of the vast ocean and its perils as Kelolo, sitting in the darkness, chanted what purported to be the song of directions for that imaginary voyage:
"Wait for the west wind, wait for the west wind,
Then sail to Nuku Hiva of the dark bays
To find the constant star.
Hold to it, hold to it
Though the eyes grow dim with heat."
But whenever Abner found his mind prepared to accept some small aspect of the narrative as true, ridiculous legendary events intruded, like Kelolo's account of how his ancestor in Bora Bora left for the trip north at the height of a hurricane, with waves forty feet high.
"Imagine a Hawaiian canoe even venturing out of port in a strong wind!" Abner laughed to Jerusha as he recounted some of the more fantastic passages in the history. "Just look! Right here we have more than forty generations of supposedly historic characters. Now if you allot twenty years to each generation, and that's conservative, Kelolo wants us to believe that his ancestors came here more than eight hundred years ago and then went back to get a second canoeload. Impossible!"
When Kelolo finished his genealogy--128 generations in all-- Abner prudently made a copy of what he termed "this primitive and imaginary poem" and sent it to Yale College, where it formed the basis for most accounts of Hawaiian mythology; scholars appreciated in particular the detailed descriptions of the conflict between the Bora Bora god Kane and the Havaiki god Koro. Abner himself had slight regard for his work, and when he summoned Keoki to present the original he said condescendingly, "Your father claims it's a family history."
"It is," Keoki bristled.
"Now, Keoki! More than a hundred and twenty-five generations! Nobody can remember . . ."
"Kahunas can," Keoki said stubbornly.
"You sound as if you were defending the kahunas," Abner suggested.
"In the recitation of family histories, I am," Keoki replied.
"But this is ridiculous . . . mythology . . . fantasy." Abner slapped the manuscript with disdain.
"It is our book," Keoki said, clutching it to his bosom. "The Bible is your book, and these memories are our book."
"How dare you, a man who presumes to ask when he will be made a minister?"
"Why is it, Reverend Hale, that we must always laugh at our book, but always revere yours?"
"Because my Book, as you improperly call it, is the divine word of God, while yours is a bundle of myths."
"Are 'The Begats' any more true than the memories of the kahunas?" Keoki challenged.
"True?" Abner gasped, his temper rising with his astonishment. "One is the divinely revealed Word of the Lord. The other . . ." He paused in contempt and ended, "Good heavens, do you consider them equal?"
"I think there is much in the Old Testament that is merely the work of kahunas, nothing more," Keoki said firmly. Then, to repay Abner for his arrogance, he asked in confidence, "Tell me, Reverend Hale, don't you honestly think that Ezekiel was mostly kahuna?"
"You had better go," Abner snapped icily, but he felt some