How the Women Saved Guam

 How the Women Saved Guam 

(A Legend from Guam)

Nothing was left to eat.

Children cried from hunger. Their empty stomachs hurt, hurt, hurt as they chewed on scraps of coconut and fish bones.

The taro stopped growing. Even the banana tree hid its red flower, sad because its petals held no fingers of tasty new banana.

The clouds would not drop rain. Wet winds teased, blowing through palm fronds, rattling the withered branches. But the winds only laughed and left swirls of dust, shedding no rain on the thirsty island.

"The spirits are angry," the old woman, the maga'haga, warned. "The people no longer show respect. They take from the earth, take from the sea and give nothing in return. Nothing! No respect for the earth. No respect for the sea, the water or each other. The spirits are angry. Our punishment will come from our selfishness."

The old woman predicted correctly. The people had not taken care of the earth. Now the soil was barren and grew nothing. Water had been wasted. Wells had been emptied and now remained dry.

Suddenly a new danger, a new punishment, woke the people. A rumbling deep within the earth split the night's silence. Harder and harder the ground shook.

"What is happening? What is happening?" The people around Agana Bay ran outside screaming. A hideous crunching sound grew closer. Something was eating the earth right beneath them! Rocks from the high cliffs tumbled down and crashed into the sea.

"Forgive us, Ancient Ones. Forgive us!" the people prayed.

"We will not be forgiven easily. We will not be forgiven until we show we will change our selfish ways," said the older women. They knew they must appease their ancestral spirits, their ante, the spirit people who could stop the drought, the famine, and this island-eating monster.

The men grabbed their spears. "Run to the Men's House. Run for your lives!" they cried. Already a loud "WHOOOO" could be heard. Someone was blowing the Great Triton Shell. "Run to the Men's House. The chief is blowing the Great Shell. Everyone gather!"

The men shoved and squeezed under the tall steep roof. Some stood by the side pillars. Little boys stood on their big brothers' backs and peered in. All the mouths were shouting, "Kill whatever is eating our land!" But no one was listening. Words were thrown like stones at each other. Spears were thrust at the darkness. Feet began stamping.

Outside, women young and old waited, shaking their heads. They listened as the men argued about what to do.

At dawn, once again the earth shuddered. This time the sound was unmistakable. Monstrous teeth were crunching the limestone beneath their feet, biting and chewing, over and over until finally, they stopped. Silence. No one spoke. And then a child screamed. "EEEEE, I see it! A monster! A giant bird fish, huge like a whale. EEEE, it swims toward us."

The men rushed to the shore, pushing past the women. "Yes, there it is!" Everyone could see it, a giant parrot fish, an atuhong, a monster covered with scales blue as the sky, green as fat mangoes and glowing gold like a ghostly sunset.

Slowly the parrot fish swam out toward the reef. It opened its monstrous mouth. The people gasped. They saw how its teeth gleamed white, each tooth bigger than a man's head. Snap! The parrot fish bit off a piece of reef. Then with one flick of its tail, it swam into the sea cave under the island.

The men walked back to the village, their heads bowed in fear. "How can we capture such a giant fish? One snap and we lose our heads."

At the Weaving Pavilion, the women gathered. They waited until all were present, from the youngest maiden with bright eyes that had first seen the monster to the oldest auntie with clouded eyes hidden in deep wrinkles. As the women waited, they wove long strips of pandanus, in and out, in and out. As they wove they began chanting, praying, and thinking.

The women watched and waited, all the time

weaving, weaving.

Their fingers wove ribbons of leaves. 

Their voices chanted prayers of hope while 

Their thoughts wove possibilities.

A monstrous parrot fish was eating their island. It was another punishment sent by the old ones. Their angry spirits had sent the drought and the famine. How could they appease the spirits? What sacrifice was required?

WHOOO! The Great Triton was blown again. Back to the shore raced the men, their bodies glistening with coconut oil. Spears clattered against war clubs. Down to the water they scrambled and leapt into their outriggers. Like a school of flying fish, away they sailed, skimming through the waves and over the reef, following the path of the monster.

The women watched and waited, all the time 

weaving, weaving.

Their fingers wove ribbons of leaves while their 

thoughts wove possibilities.

They sat in a circle, their backs straight, their heads bowed. Their long black hair spilled over their shoulders, flowing together like a net.

They wove through the night. As the sun lifted above the straight-line horizon, they watched for signs of husbands and sons returning from the hunt. They did not see tiny triangles of sails grow larger and larger, bringing their clansmen home. But what they saw they remembered.

From one of the undersea tunnels between Agana and Pago bays, the giant atuhong swam out into the lagoon. It began eating the island. All day the earth shook. All day the monster ate and ate. The monster was destroying the reef and the land just as the people had been because of selfish thoughtlessness. Soon there would be no land left between Agana and Pago, and then-no island, nothing!

"Hurry home," the women chanted. "Hurry home and kill the monster before it devours our island."

Finally, sails appeared on the horizon. Soon the men were climbing out of their canoes. The women told what they had seen and then asked, "Let us help you hunt the monster. Quickly, now before it swims to the tunnel's safety."

The men laughed. "Women cannot hunt. Women only chant and weave. What good is that?"

The men stomped back into the bay with nets and weapons. They surrounded the monster, threw their nets and began to pull.

With one slap of its tail, the giant fish sent bodies crashing into the reef and onto the shore. With its mighty teeth it ripped apart the nets and then darted into the tunnel.

The women watched.

Their fingers threaded pandanus while their thoughts wove ideas. And their hearts prayed. What sacrifice did the spirits want? Like a child searching the sand for a seashell, their thoughts searched for an answer.

The men trudged back to the village dragging their torn nets. The women called, "Let us help you mend the nets and prepare for a new hunt."

The men laughed. "Women, what can you do? Even our maga'lahi chief's great strength is not enough."

The wisest woman, the maga'haga, shook her head. She waited for the men to leave and then spoke. "Stop, rest your hands. Come with me to Agana Spring. We will wash our faces and refresh our hearts. With clear thoughts we will ask for help from our maranan uchan, the skulls of our ancestors."

But when the women arrived at Agana Spring, they found lemon peels floating in the water. The maga'haga knew that only the women of Pago used lemons to scent their hair. This meant that already an opening had been made between Agana and Pago. If the monster kept eating, Guam would soon be gone.

                                        Sunrise - Pago Bay, Guam (Wikipedia Commons, author: amanderson2)

"Hurry, come here to the spring. Encircle the water. I know what our sacrifice must be. Our beauty, our hair. If you are willing to help, bow your head and I shall chop off your hair."

One by one the women walked to the spring, knelt by the cool water, and touched their foreheads to the black rock. The old maga'haga took out her shell knife, gave thanks, and asked for courage. Quickly she held each woman's long hair with one hand and cut with the other.

"Now we will begin a new weaving."

Again the women wove through the night, their fingers flying faster than the fluttering wings of fairy terns. They encouraged each other with songs and stories. Their heads felt strangely light. No long tresses hung down their backs. But to everyone's surprise, their hearts also felt light and full of hope as if a heavy burden had been cut away.

As the starlight began to fade with the morning light, the weaving was finished. "Come, quickly come." The maga'haga gathered up the black net and instructed the women to wait with her at the spring. "Here we will wait. When the atuhong, the slippery one, comes out of the tunnel, we will throw our net over its head and then everyone pull. Pull with all your strength."

The young ones looked up at their mothers, who nodded. "Yes, we can do this. We have woven our courage into one net. The strength of many has become one."

The monster fish swam out of the tunnel. It circled around the women. Faster and faster, closer and closer it swam. With its great jaws wide open, it rushed right at the women!

Snap! Teeth bit into empty air. With one great throw, the women tossed the net over the monster's mouth. "Pull!" yelled the maga'haga. The women pulled as one. Giant teeth tore at the net, but the net held as if filled with magic.

"Pull! Pull up!" urged the old one. The monster's scaly body thrashed the water and its might tail slapped at the women. But the women held on. The spring became muddy with sand, murky with foam. The women began chanting, "Be brave, be strong. Pull!"

The men heard their voices, grabbed spears and clubs, and rushed to the spring. Quickly the monster was dead. Together men, women, and children pulled the giant fish onto land. They gave thanks to their ancestors and then began a chant, a new song about how the women of Agana wove their beauty into a net of courage and saved Guam. As the people sang, they heaped coconut husks around the fish, cooked it, and ate.

At last every stomach was full. As the rain began to fall, the people knew that both the drought and the famine were over. They lifted their faces to the heavens and then nodded at each other. What happened that day, how their island was saved, would be told to their children and their children's children. Remember, show respect. Take care of this island and each other. Only then will this sea and this land be yours and your children's.

Source 

Marianas Island Legends: Myth and Magic 

Nancy Bo Flood 

2001

Pages: 5-11

The Ocean Race

 The Ocean Race 

(A story from Kiribati)

Tabuariki, Auriaria, Taburimai and Nareau met for a contest one day and decided to hold an ocean race. Each of them was to select the fastest craft he could think of. Tabuariki chose a porpoise, Auriaria a shark and Taburimai a swordfish - all of them deep-sea fish, fast and powerful. Nareau had different ideas about speed and chose a crab - a hermit crab that crawls along the ground. When the others heard of Nareau's choice, they laughed at him for the hermit-crab was among the slowest creatures on earth and the penalty for losing the race was to be a feast for the others.

On the morning appointed for the race, they met together on the lagoon side - possibly the Tarawa lagoon since Nareau was living at Temaiku and Auriaria at Eita, both of them Tarawan villages. The rules provided for four referees to be chosen, one for each craft, and Nareau gave careful instructions to his referee. When he felt the crab nip his toe, he was to press it into the sand under his foot and, when the race was truly under way, to pick it up and show it to the other referees as proof it had come in first.

At the start of the race, each of the contestants took hold of his craft - Tabuariki of the porpoise, Auriaria of the shark, Taburimai of the swordfish and Nareau of his hermit-crab. Meanwhile Nareau's referee had trodden a crab under his foot waiting for the contestants to let go their hold and for the race to start. Off, all the fish swam and, almost immediately, Nareau's referee picked up the buried crab and shouted out to his companions in triumph: “Look, here's the crab!” The other referees inspected it and confirmed it was indeed Nareau's chosen craft. When the four contestants went up to the referees to hear the result of the race, they were told: “The hermit-crab came in first by a long way. Nareau's referee showed it to us.”

Then Tabuariki and his companions, Auriaria and Taburimai, called for another race. They each let their craft go and the crab again beat the porpoise, the shark and the swordfish. The same thing happened a third time - the crab won again, beating the big, fast deep-sea fish. There is no doubt that Nareau was smart in planning victories.

Some clever people say the race was won in the following way. Nareau started off with three crabs. He let two of them go, one after the other, and each of them in turn reached the referee standing up in front. Nareau held the third crab in his hand until the first race started. Before each race was under way, one crab had crept up to the referee's feet so, when the fish set off, a hermit crab was already there.

Source

Traditional Stories from the Northern Gilberts 

Ten Tiroba

1990

Pages: 28-29

The Greedy Boy and the Coconut Crab

 The Greedy Boy and the Coconut Crab

(A Tale from Kapingamarangi)

There was once a naughty, greedy boy who lived in Thouhou Island, in Kapingamarangi Atoll, in the Eastern Caroline Islands. He loved to eat, and he thought only of himself. He liked to steal food from others. He hoped that it would never be found out.

For a long time, he succeeded very well. No one knew that he was a thief. But one of his tricks was discovered, and he was punished. It came about in this way.

A man and his wife found a coconut crab at Paewere, on the eastern side of Thouhou Island. They were poor, and they didn't often have coconut crab to eat, so they felt quite happy.

"Let's cook it and eat it," said the man.

"It's too small," replied his wife. "Let's keep it and feed it until it's much larger".

They left the crab in a deep hole and covered the top, so that it couldn't get out. Then, for many days, they carried food to it. They brought coconut meat and cooked puraka, or taro.

The coconut crab lives among coconut trees and grows to large size by stuffing itself with coconut meat. It is a land crab with strong, sharp, cutting claws. Since its main food is coconut, it is delicious to eat.

 

The man and his wife hoped to eat the crab, when it should become large and fat. But one day, the greedy boy found out about the crab. When no one was around, he stole it, roasted it, and ate it. He had the crab feast all by himself. How he enjoyed that meat! Not once did he think of the people who had fattened the crab for their own use, except to hide from them.

Now the boy didn't want the man and his wife to know that the crab was gone. He wanted them to keep on bringing food to the crab's hole. And who would be there to eat it? He, himself, of course.

"I'm very clever," he said to himself. "I'll just crawl into that hole a couple of times a day and eat up the good food."

That was exactly what he did. Day after day, he stuffed himself with the food intended for the crab. He was down in the hole one day, when the man and the woman came, and he heard them talking together.

"I haven't seen the crab for some time," said the man. "It stays far down in the hole."

"Let's kill it and eat it now," said the woman. "It must be full-grown and fat, by this time."

"Good! We will each make a torch and smoke it out," said the man. So the two went away and tied torches of dry coconut leaves.

The boy wanted them to keep on bringing food, and he thought of a plan. He filled two coconut shells with water and took them into the hole with him.

But the man and woman brought three coconut-leaf torches, instead of two. The boy didn't know that. They set fire to one of the torches. When it flamed well, they put it into the hole. The boy took up one shell, threw the water over the torch, and put out the fire.

Then the man and woman set fire to the second torch and put it into the hole. The same thing happened. The boy put out the fire with water from the second shell.

"That's the end of the torches," thought the boy. But he was mistaken. The man and his wife set fire to the third torch. "This will smoke out the crab," they said.

They pushed the torch far down into the hole and moved it all about. Suddenly, they heard someone yelling.

"Ouch! Stop burning me! Stop, stop!" howled the boy.

He crawled out and stood before them. The skin of his body, the hair of his head, and even his eyebrows were burned. The selfish boy suffered a great deal from the burns. But he had to suffer still more when he went about the village. The people pointed him out as the boy who stole food from others. As they say in Kapingamarangi, "That's the end of the story; just a tale told by the people."

Source

Legends of Micronesia (Book One)

Eve Grey 

1951

Pages: 11-13

Maluae and the Underworld

 Maluae and the Underworld

(A Legend from Hawaii)

This is a story from Manoa Valley, back of Honolulu. In the upper end of the valley, at the foot of the highest mountains on the island of Oahu, lived Maluae. He was a farmer, and had chosen this land because rain fell abundantly on the mountains, and the streams brought down fine soil from the decaying forests and disintegrating rocks, fertilizing his plants.

Rainbow above Taro Patch in Manoa Valley' by D. Howard Hitchcock, 1910

Here he cultivated bananas, taro, and sweet potatoes. His bananas grew rapidly by the sides of the brooks, and yielded large bunches of fruit from their tree-like stems. His taro filled small walled-in pools, growing in the water like water lilies, until the roots were matured, when the plants were pulled up and the roots boiled and prepared for food. His sweet potatoes were planted on the drier uplands.

Thus he had plenty of food continually growing, and ripening from time to time. Whenever he gathered any of his food products, he brought a part to his family temple and placed it on an altar before the gods Kane and Kanaloa. Then he took the rest to his home for his family to eat.

He had a boy whom he dearly loved, whose name was Kaa-lii (Rolling Chief). This boy was a careless, rollicking child.

One day the boy was tired and hungry. He passed by the temple of the gods and saw bananas, ripe and sweet, on the little platform before the gods. He took these bananas and ate them all.

The gods looked down on the altar expecting to find food, but it was all gone and there was nothing for them. They were very angry, and ran out after the boy. They caught him eating the bananas, and killed him. The body they left lying under the trees, and taking out his ghost threw it into the Underworld.

The father toiled hour after hour cultivating his food plants, and when wearied returned to his home. On the way he met the two gods. They told him how his boy had robbed them of their sacrifices and how they had punished him. They said, “We have sent his ghost body to the lowest regions of the Underworld.”

The father was very sorrowful and heavy-hearted as he went on his way to his desolate home. He searched for the body of his boy, and at last he found it. He saw too that the story of the gods was true, for partly eaten bananas filled the mouth, which was set in death.

He wrapped the body very carefully in kapa cloth made from the bark of trees. He carried it into his rest house and laid it on the sleeping mat. After a time he lay down beside the body, refusing all food, and planning to die with his boy. He thought if he could escape from his own body he would be able to go down where the ghost of his boy had been sent. If he could find that ghost, he hoped to take it to the other part of the Underworld, where they could be happy together.

He placed no offerings on the altar of the gods. No prayers were chanted. The afternoon and evening passed slowly. The gods waited for their worshipper, but he came not. They looked down on the altar of sacrifice, but there was nothing for them.

The night passed and the following day. The father lay by the side of his son, neither eating nor drinking, and longing only for death. The house was tightly closed.

Then the gods talked together, and Kane said: “Maluae eats no food, he prepares no awa to drink, and there is no water by him. He is near the door of the Underworld. If he should die, we would be to blame.”

Kanaloa said: “He has been a good man, but now we do not hear any prayers. We are losing our worshipper. We in quick anger killed his son. Was this the right reward? He has called us morning and evening in his worship. He has provided fish and fruits and vegetables for our altars. He has always prepared awa from the juice of the yellow awa root for us to drink. We have not paid him well for his care.”

Then they decided to go and give life to the father, and permit him to take his ghost body and go down into Po, the dark land, to bring back the ghost of the boy. They went to Maluae and told him they were sorry for what they had done.

The father was very weak from hunger and longing for death, and could scarcely listen to them.

When Kane said, “Have you love for your child?” the father whispered: “Yes. My love is without end.”

“Can you go down into the dark land and get that spirit and put it back in the body which lies here?”

“No,” the father said, “no, I can only die and go to live with him and make him happier by taking him to a better place.”

Then the gods said, “We will give you the power to go after your boy and we will help you to escape the dangers of the land of ghosts.”

Then the father, stirred by hope, rose up and took food and drink. Soon he was strong enough to go on his journey.

The gods gave him a ghost body and also prepared a hollow stick like bamboo, in which they put food, battle weapons, and a piece of burning lava for fire.

Not far from Honolulu is a beautiful modern estate with fine roads, lakes, running brooks, and interesting valleys extending back into the mountain range. This is called by the very ancient name of Moanalua (two lakes). Near the seacoast of this estate was one of the most noted ghost localities of the islands. The ghosts after wandering over the island of Oahu would come to this place to find a way into their real home, the Underworld or Po.

Here was a ghostly breadfruit tree named Lei-walo, possibly meaning the “eight wreaths” or “the eighth wreath” — the last wreath of leaves from the land of the living which would meet the eyes of the dying.

The ghosts would leap or fly or climb into the branches of this tree, trying to find a rotten branch upon which they could sit until it broke and threw them into the dark sea below.

Maluae climbed up the breadfruit tree. He found a branch where ghosts were sitting waiting for it to fall. His weight was so much greater than theirs that the branch broke at once, and down they all fell into the land of Po.

He needed merely to taste the food in his hollow cane to have new life and strength. This he had done when he climbed the tree; thus he had been able to push past the fabled guardians of the pathway of the ghosts in the Upperworld. As he entered the Underworld, he again tasted the food of the gods and he felt himself growing stronger and stronger.

He took a magic war club and a spear out of the cane given by the gods. Ghostly warriors tried to hinder his entrance into the different districts of the dark land. The spirits of dead chiefs challenged him when he passed their homes. Battle after battle was fought. His magic club struck the warriors down, and his spear tossed them aside.

Sometimes he was warmly greeted and aided by ghosts of kindly spirits. Thus he went from place to place, searching for his boy. He found him at last, as the Hawaiians quaintly expressed it, “down in the papa-ku” (the established foundation of Po), choking and suffocating from the bananas of ghost-land which he was compelled to continually force into his mouth.

The father caught the spirit of the boy and started back toward the Upperworld, but the ghosts surrounded him. They tried to catch him and take the spirit away from him. Again the father partook of the food of the gods. Once more he wielded his war club, but the hosts of enemies were too great. Multitudes arose on all sides, crushing him by their overwhelming numbers.

At last he raised his magic hollow cane and took the last portion of food. Then he poured out the portion of burning lava which the gods had placed inside. It fell upon the dry floor of the Underworld. The flames dashed into the trees and the shrubs of ghost-land. Fire holes opened and streams of lava burst out.

Backward fled the multitude of spirits. The father thrust the spirit of the boy quickly into the empty magic cane and rushed swiftly up to his homeland. He brought the spirit to the body lying in the rest house and forced it to find again its living home.

Afterward the father and the boy took food to the altars of the gods, and chanted the accustomed prayers heartily and loyally all the rest of their lives.

Source:

Myths and Legends of Hawaii

W.D. Westervelt

1987

Pages: 95-99

Why the reef stands far from Bau

 Why the reef stands far from Bau

(A Legend from Fiji)

Islands in the vast Pacific Ocean are surrounded by the not-so-peaceful Pacific. Many islands are only a few feet above the surface of the water at their highest. During times of high tide or storm they may find themselves completely submerged! Many are the stories told of islanders lashing themselves to tall palm trees to save themselves from being washed out to sea during typhoons.

Other islands are more fortunate. Some are high volcanic islands standing far above the raging surf. Still other islands have reefs that protect them from the ocean's temper.

The islands of Fiji have just such a vast protecting reef. It extends over three hundred miles and breaks much of the force of the open ocean before it reaches land. The reef also quiets the pounding surf. At some places, where the reef is a long way from the land, it may be hard to even hear the sound of the ocean.

The reef was not always so far from land. At one time, when the gods of the earth and sea still lived in Fiji, there lived a goddess, Bui Vo, on the island of Bau.

Bui Vo was hungry. Even goddesses got hungry. Bui Vo was known for her great hunger and also for her great cooking pot, which she kept near her hut. This cooking pot was her favorite pot. Ivi nuts were her favorite food.

"I am hungry," thought Bui Vo. "I will make some ivi nuts." The thought of her favorite food made Bui Vo very happy. She set to work at once.

Cooking ivi nuts is not easy. Ivi nuts are very very hard. They are too hard for even a goddess like Bui Vo to eat.

To soften the nuts, Bui Vo filled her cooking pot with water. Then she added the nuts and put the pot on a huge fire to boil. The nuts needed to boil for a very long time to make them tender.

As Bui Vo gathered wood for her fire, she did not notice a big storm approaching from the ocean. The storm began to make big waves. We call these waves "whitecaps."

Soon Bui Vo's pot was boiling well. She listened to the wonderful sound of the nuts boiling. When the boiling sound got softer, she knew it was time to add more water. She kept adding water to the pot to keep the nuts covered and boiling.

At that time, the reef around Bau was very near the shore. As the storm grew bigger, huge waves began to crash against the rocks. "Whoosh, whoosh," they cried, sounding ever so much like the "sploosh, sploosh" sound of the boiling ivi nuts.

Bui Vo heard the loud "whoosh, whoosh." "Good," she thought. "My ivi nuts are boiling well. I can almost taste them!" Bui Vo really loved ivi nuts. She relaxed in her hut and waited.

Bui Vo fell asleep. When she awoke, she remembered her nuts and started to rush out of her hut. Then she heard the familiar "whoosh, whoosh" sound. It was even louder than before. "My," she thought, "How well the ivi nuts are boiling today." Since the sound was even louder, she did not go out to add more water to the pot.

All that day, Bui Vo rested in her hut. She kept listening for the sound of the boiling to get softer, but the loud "whoosh, whoosh" only got louder.

By this time the storm had struck the island, and rain fell all around the hut of Bui Vo. Suddenly she smelled something burning! It smelled really bad.

Bui Vo stuck her nose out of her hut and smelled to the east. It smelled bad. Then she smelled to the west. It still smelled bad. Really bad.

Bui Vo smelled out toward the ocean. She still smelled the bad smell. Then she finally smelled toward the land, toward where her ivi nuts were cooking. This time the smell was so bad she could hardly stand it.

When she looked toward the smell, she saw black smoke coming out of her cooking pot!

"My ivi nuts!" she screamed. Bui Vo rushed out of her hut. A sad sight greeted her.

The cooking pot had boiled completely dry. Inside her favorite pot was a smoking black mess. The ivi nuts had burned to charcoal. "My ivi nuts are burned! I do not have any supper," she wailed. But that was not all.

While Bui Vo looked into her pot, the large earthenware pot suddenly cracked into two pieces. The ruined pot lay in the ashes of the fire. "My pot! My favorite pot is ruined."

At first Bui Vo was sad. Then she was mad. "Why did this happen?" she demanded. Then she heard the "whoosh, whoosh" of the waves striking the reef. Bui Vo understood.

"You tricked me!" she screamed at the reef. "You and your waves sounded like my boiling pot of ivi nuts. You are a wicked reef. Go away. Go far away from this place."

The reef obeyed. Now the reef is built far out to sea. The sounds of the surf can no longer be heard on Bau.

Source: 

Pacific Island Legends: Tales from Micronesia, Melanesia, Polynesia and Australia

Nancy Bo Flood, Beret E. Strong, William Flood 

1991 

Pages: 139 -142