Completeness of enumeration hence has cabalistic value.  When the Hawaiian propitiates his gods he concludes with an invocation to the “forty thousand, to the four hundred thousand, to the four thousand"[3] gods, in order that none escape the incantation.  Direction is similarly invoked all around the compass.  In the art of verbal debate—­called hoopapa in Hawaii—­the test is to match a rival’s series with one exactly parallel in every particular or to add to a whole some undiscovered part.[4] A charm mentioned in folk tale is “to name every word that ends with lau.”  Certain numbers, too, have a kind of magic finality in themselves; for example, to count off an identical phrase by ten without missing a word is the charm by which Lepe tricks the spirits.  In the Kualii, once more, Ku is extolled as the tenth chief and warrior: 

  The first chief, the second chief,
  The third chief, the fourth chief,
  The fifth chief, the sixth chief,
  The seventh chief, the eighth chief,
  The ninth, chief, the tenth chief is Ku,
  Ku who stood, in the path of the rain of the heaven,
  The first warrior, the second warrior,
  The third warrior, the fourth warrior,
  The fifth warrior, the sixth warrior,
  The seventh warrior, the eighth warrior,
  The ninth warrior, the tenth warrior
  Is the Chief who makes the King rub his eyes,
  The young warrior of all Maui.

And there follows an enumeration of the other nine warriors.  A similar use is made of counting-out lines in the famous chant of the “Mirage of Mana” in the story of Lono, evidently with the idea of completing an inclusive series.

Counting-out formulae reappear in story-telling in such repetitive series of incidents as those following the action of the five sisters of the unsuccessful wooer in the Laieikawai story.  Here the interest develops, as in the lines from Kualii, an added emotional element, that of climax.  The last place is given to the important character.  Although everyone is aware that the younger sister is the most competent member of the group, the audience must not be deprived of the pleasure of seeing each one try and fail in turn before the youngest makes the attempt.  The story-teller, moreover, varies the incident; he does not exactly follow his formula, which, however, it is interesting to note, is more fixed in the evidently old dialogue part of the story than in the explanatory action.

Story-telling also exhibits how the vital connection felt to exist between a person or object and the name by which it is distinguished, which gives an emotional value to the mere act of naming, is extended further to include scenes with which it is associated.  The Hawaiian has a strong place sense, visible in his devotion to scenes familiar to his experience, and this is reflected in his language.  In the Laieikawai it appears in the plaints of the