Nalowale kānaka i loko o kā kākou kalo lā
The kalo shall grow big enough to conceal a man
— from a prayer to Kūkeolowalu, god of wetland farming

ʻO wai ʻo Kū? He akua kāne ʻo Kū, ʻo ia hoʻi, ma nā hana a nā kāne a me ke kuleana o nā kāne, aia i laila ko Kū mana. No Kū ke kuleana ʻo ka mālama ʻana i ka ʻohana a me ka hoʻolako ʻana i nā mea e pono ai ka ʻohana me ke kaiaulu. Ua nui nō ia kuleana, a nui nō hoʻi nā akua Kū e noho akua ana ma luna o nā hana like ʻole a kānaka e hana ai.

He aha ke kuleana o Kū i loko o ke ola o ke kanaka?

He mau akua ʻo Kū, ʻaʻole hoʻokahi wale nō. ʻO kekahi Kū, he akua no ka lawaiʻa. ʻO kekahi Kū ʻokoʻa, he akua mahi ʻai. A ʻo kekahi Kū ʻokoʻa aku, he akua mālama ʻohana. Ua hoʻomana ʻia kekahi Kū e nā kia manu, a he akua Kū ko ka poʻe kālai lāʻau. ʻO ka poʻe ʻohi lāʻau lapaʻau a me ka poʻe kālai waʻa kekahi poʻe e hoʻomana ana iā Kū. Pule ʻia kekahi Kū no ka hoʻoheleleʻi i ka ua. Aia hoʻi kekahi poʻe akua Kū, ʻo ka hoʻopaʻa a me ka mālama ʻana i ke aupuni ko lākou kuleana.


He mau kinolau o Kū

ʻO ke kanaka, ka ʻio, ka ʻīlio, a me ka moa kekahi mau kinolau o Kū. Mai uka a i kai nā kinolau meakanu ona, e like me ka niu, ka ʻōhiʻa lehua, ka ʻulu, a me ka noni.

Nā kōko‘olua ‘o Kū me Hina

He mea mau ma ka moʻomeheu Hawaiʻi ka hoʻonoho kōkoʻolua ʻia o ʻelua mea. Ma kekahi ʻano noʻonoʻo ʻana, he mau pakanā paha lāua, a i ʻole ia, he mau ʻēkoʻa. ʻO ia hoʻi, he mau pakanā ka pō a me ke ao, ka iki a me ka nui, ka wela a me ke anu. No Kū, ʻo Hina kona kōkoʻolua.

ʻO Kū ke kāne, ʻo Hina ka wahine. Pili ka ʻaoʻao ʻākau o ke kino kanaka iā Kū, a pili ka ʻaoʻao hema iā Hina. Ua ʻike ʻia nō paha ia loina ma ka hui ʻana o ka poʻe Hawaiʻi no nā hana me nā ʻaha, ma ka ʻākoakoa ʻana o nā kāne ma ka ʻaoʻao ʻākau a me nā wāhine ma ka ʻaoʻao hema.

Pili ʻo Kū lāua ʻo Hina i ke kūlana kino kekahi. "Kū" ke kino i luna, ʻo ia hoʻi, ke kū pololei i luna e like me ka paia o ka hale, ʻaʻole hiō. "Hina" ke kino i lalo, ʻo ia hoʻi he moe, e like me ka papahele o ka hale. ʻŌlelo ʻia aia ʻelua ʻano kumu ʻulu. ʻO ka ʻulu kū ke kāne, e ulu ana a kūpono i luna. ʻO ka ʻulu hāpapa ka wahine, e ulu papamoe ana nā lālā ma nā ʻaoʻao.

ʻO ka piʻi ʻana o ka lā, ʻo ia ʻo Kū. Huli ke kino i ka hikina ke pule iā Kū, i kahi o ka lā hiki. ʻO ka napoʻo ʻana o ka lā, ʻo ia ʻo Hina. Huli ke kino i ke komohana ke pule iā Hina, i kahi o ka lā kau. ʻO Kū a me Hina "nā mākua" i hoʻomana ʻia e nā kānaka no ke kōkua ma ka hāpai ʻana a me ka mālama keiki ʻana.

Manomano nā hana a Kū

[Hala] Photo by Ruben Carillo.Ua nui nā akua o ka hoʻomana Hawaiʻi kahiko, he mano, kini, a lehu. Nui laulā nō hoʻi nā kuleana o nā akua "Kū," no laila, he nui nā "Kū" nāna e ʻauamo ia mau kuleana. E hoʻomoeā ʻoe i ka ʻāhui hala me kona mau pua hala. ʻO kēlā me kēia pua hala kekahi o nā akua "Kū." Ke hoʻohui ʻia nā pua a pau, a paʻa ka ʻāhui hala, ʻo Kū nō ia.

Eia kekahi mau akua Kū:

Kūmauna—Kū o ke kuahiwi, he akua ua no Kaʻū, Hawaiʻi

Kūkaʻōʻō—Kū o ka ʻōʻō, he akua mahi ʻai

Kūkeolowalu—Kū, he akua o ka mahi ʻai ma ka loʻi

Kūʻulakai—Kū, he akua no ka lawaiʻa

Kūmokuhāliʻi—Kū, he akua no ke kālai waʻa

Kūnuiākea—Kū, ke akua nui o ke kūkulu a hoʻopaʻa aupuni

Kūkāʻilimoku—Kū, he akua kaua

Kūwahailo—Kū, he akua mana hoʻokalakupua


Aia ʻelua mana o ka moʻolelo no Kūmauna, he akua ua no Kaʻū. Aia kekahi ma loko o nā kuhia o ka moʻolelo ʻo Pele and Hiiaka, A Myth From Hawaii, na Nathaniel B. Emerson.

Kūmauna, a rain-god of great local fame and power; now represented by a monolithic bowlder about thirty feet high, partly overgrown with ferns and moss, situated in the lower edge of the forest–belt, that lies to the south and Kaʻū of Mauna Loa, deserves more than passing mention. The region in which this rock is situated is declared by vulcanologists to have been one vast caldera and must have been the scene of tremendous disturbances.

Up to the present time the Hawaiians have continued to hold Kūmauna in great reverence mingled with fear. The following modern instance is not only a true story and interesting, but also furnishes an illustration of the attitude of mind of the Hawaiian people generally—or many of them—towards their old gods.

During a period of severe drought in the district of Kaʻū, Hawaiʻi, a gentleman named S, while hunting in the neighborhood of the rock that bears the name Kūmauna, took occasion to go out of his way and visit the rock. Standing before the rocky mass and calling it by name, he used towards it insulting and taunting epithets, professing to hold it responsible for the drought that was distressing the land. He concluded his tirade by discharging his rifle point blank against the face of the rock, resulting in the detachment of a considerable fragment.

The vaqueros in the employ of Mr. S., who were assisting in the hunt, horrified at the sacrilegious act, at once put spurs to their horses and made off, predicting the direst consequences from the rash act of Mr. S.

Now for the denouement: Within about ten days of this occurrence, the valley, on one side of which    Mr. S had his residence, was visited by a violent rain-storm—such as would in popular speech be termed a cloudburst. There was a mighty freshet, the waters of which reached so high as to flood his garden and threaten the safety of his house, which he saved only by the most strenuous exertions. The land which had been his garden was almost entirely washed away and in its place was deposited a pell-mell of stones.

Needless to say, that, by the natives, this incident was and is regarded to this day as conclusive evidence of the divine power of Kūmauna and of his wrath at the audacious person who insulted him. Special significance is attached to the fact that as part of Kūmauna’s reprisal the place that had been a garden was turned into a field of rocks. The only wonder is that Mr. S got off with so light a punishment.

 

Aia kekahi mana o ia moʻolelo ma Hawaiian Mythology na Martha Beckwith.

Visitors to the valley [where Kūmauna stands] are warned to be quiet and respectful lest a violent rainstorm mar their trip to the mountains.

The story told of Johnny Searle has become a legend of the valley and a warning to irreverent foreigners. About the year 1896, while Johnny Searle was manager of Hīlea sugar plantation, there occurred a prolonged drought and one evening as he was riding home down the valley with a party of Hawaiian goat hunters he raised his gun and shot at the Kūmauna boulder, exclaiming, “There, Kūmauna! Show your power!” The shot broke off a piece from a projecting elbow, which some say he took home and threw into the fire. His companions fled. That night (as the story runs) a cloud-burst rushed down the valley and flung great stones all over the back yard of the plantation house, where they may be seen today as proof of the truth of Kūmauna’s power.

He mau ‘ōlelo no‘eau no Kū

Hāna i ka iʻa iki
Hāna was once known in ancient times as the land where fish were scarce. Believing slanderous tales about Kūʻula and his wife, Hinahele, the ruling chief of Hāna ordered them destroyed. Having mana over the fish of the sea, the two caused a scarcity until their son ʻAiʻai brought them back to life. Kūʻula and Hinahele were worshipped as deities by fishermen. (ʻŌlelo Noʻeau #451)

E pale lauʻī i kō akua ke hiki aku i Kona.
A message sent by Kaʻahumanu to Liholiho requesting him to free the kapu of his god Kūkāʻilimoku. Kaʻahumanu was at that time striving to abolish the kapu system. (ʻŌlelo Noʻeau #370)