VI.— THE PASSWORD— THE SONG OF ADMISSION 



There prevailed among the practitioners of the hula from one end 

 of the group to the other a mutual understanding, amounting almost 

 to a sort of freemasonry, which gave to any member of the guild 

 the right of free entrance at all times to the hall, or halau, where a 

 performance was under way. Admission was conditioned, however, 

 on the utterance of a password at the door. A snatch of song, an oli, 

 denominated mele kahea, or mele tvehe puka, was chanted, which, on 

 being recognized by those within, was answered in the same language 

 of hyperbole, and the door was oj^ened. 



The verbal accuracy of any mele kahea that may be adduced is at 

 the present day one of the vexed questions among hula authorities, 

 each hula-master being inclined to maintain that the version given 

 by another is incorrect. This remark applies, though in smaller 

 measure, to the whole body of mele, pule, and oli that makes up the 

 songs and liturgy of the hula as well as to the traditions that guided 

 the maestro, or kumu-hula, in the training of his compam^ The 

 reasons for these differences of opinion and of text, now that there is 

 to be a written text, are explained by the following facts: The dev- 

 otees and practitioners of the hula were divided into groups that 

 were separated from one another by wide intervals of sea and land. 

 They belonged quite likely to more than one cult, for indeed there 

 were many gods and au-makua to whom they sacrificed and offered 

 prayers. The passwords adopted by one generation or by the group 

 of practitioners on one island might suffer verbal changes in trans- 

 mission to a later generation or to a remote island. 



Again, it should be remembered that the entire body of material 

 forming the repertory of the hula — pule, mele, and oli — was in- 

 trusted to the keeping of the memory, without the aid of letters 

 or, so far as known, of any mnemonic device ; and the human mind, 

 even under the most athletic discipline, is at best an imperfect con- 

 servator of literary form. The result was what might be expected: 

 as the imagination and emotions of the minstrel warmed under the 

 inspiration of his trust, glosses and amendments crept in. These, 

 however, caused but slight variations in the text. The substance 

 remains substantially the same. 



After carefully weighing the matter, the author can not avoid the 

 conclusion that jealousy had much to do with the slight differences 

 now manifest, that one version is as authoritative as another, and 



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