A third use of localization conforms exactly to our own sense of description.  The Island of Kauai is sometimes visible lying off to the northwest of Oahu.  At this side of the island rises the Waianae range topped by the peak Kaala.  In old times the port of entry for travelers to Oahu from Kauai was the seacoast village of Waianae.  Between it and the village of Waialua runs a great spur of the range, which breaks off abruptly at the sea, into the point Kaena.  Kahuku point lies beyond Waialua at the northern extremity of the island.  Mokuleia, with its old inland fishpond, is the first village to the west of Waialua.  This is the setting for the following lines, again taken from the chant of Kualii, the translation varying only slightly from that edited by Thrum: 

  O Kauai,
  Great Kauai, inherited from ancestors,
  Sitting in the calm of Waianae,
  A cape is Kaena,
  Beyond, Kahuku,
  A misty mountain back, where the winds meet, Kaala,
  There below sits Waialua,
  Waialua there,
  Kahala is a dish for Mokuleia,
  A fishpond for the shark roasted in ti-leaf,
  The tail of the shark is Kaena,
  The shark that goes along below Kauai,
  Below Kauai, thy land,
  Kauai O!

The number of such place names to be stored in the reciter’s memory is considerable.  Not only are they applied in lavish profusion to beach, rock, headland, brook, spring, cave, waterfall, even to an isolated tree of historic interest, and distributed to less clearly marked small land areas to name individual holdings, but, because of the importance of the weather in the fishing and seagoing life of the islander, they are affixed to the winds, the rains, and the surf or “sea” of each locality.  All these descriptive appellations the composer must employ to enrich his means of place allusion.  Even to-day the Hawaiian editor with a nice sense of emotional values will not, in his obituary notice, speak of a man being missed in his native district, but will express the idea in some such way as this:  “Never more will the pleasant Kupuupuu (mist-bearing wind) dampen his brow.”  The songs of the pleading sisters in the romance of Laieikawai illustrate this conventional usage.  In Kualii, the poet wishes to express the idea that all the sea belongs to the god Ku.  He therefore enumerates the different kinds of “sea,” with their locality—­“the sea for surf riding,” “the sea for casting the net,” “the sea for going naked,” “the sea for swimming,” “the sea for surf riding sideways,” “the sea for tossing up mullet,” “the sea for small crabs,” “the sea of many harbors,” etc.

The most complete example of this kind of enumeration occurs in the chant of Kuapakaa, where the son of the disgraced chief chants to his lord the names of the winds and rains of all the districts about each island in succession, and then, by means of his grandmother’s bones in a calabash in the bottom of the canoe (she is the Hawaiian wind-goddess) raises a storm and avenges his father’s honor.  He sings: