The Migration of Turi to Aotearoa

 The Migration of Turi to Aotearoa

(A legend from New Zealand)

While Kupe was away from Hawaiki on his voyage of discovery a quarrel arose between Turi and the high chief Uenuku, which led to Turi's leaving Hawaiki in the canoe Aotea. This was the second of the two canoes that Toto built, being made from the other half of the tree from which Matahorua had come. It belonged to Turi's wife, Rongorongo, who was the daughter of Toto and sister of Kura marotini.

The quarrel between Turi and Uenuku began when Turi, after getting in his kumara crop, sent Uenuku a portion as his atinga, or tribute, and Uenuku took the smallness of the gift as an insult. The tribute was carried to Uenuku by a little boy named Potiki roroa. Some say that this child was Turi's son. When Uenuku saw how small a portion of the crop had been set aside for him, he killed the boy who brought it, and devoured him.

Then Turi set his mind upon revenge. He decided that the most satisfying form of utu would be to kill Uenuku's own small son, whose name was Oe potiki. In the hope of enticing him to come out he set all the children of his own family to whipping tops, throwing the teka, and other games, on a piece of ground where Oe potiki could see them. This did not work; but later, on a day that was very hot, the children of Turi's household all went bathing in the river, and this time Oe potiki came out to join them. Then Turi snatched him and split his head with a club. The body of this child was eaten by Turi and his friends, but the manawa, or heart and lungs, were kept aside and when some women were carrying gifts of food to Uenuku, Turi handed them a basket of baked kumara, with the manawa of Oe potiki, cut up and cooked as a relish in the middle.

Uenuku had not yet learned the fate of his son, and as he sat down to the feast he sighed: 'Poor little Oe potiki, how he would have liked this delicious food; but he no longer comes to sit and eat beside me.' After he had eaten, one of Uenuku's friends who had been told about it said to him: 'They have made you eat the manawa of Oe potiki.' He answered with the saying, 'Very well, he lies in the belly of Toi,' meaning that there would be a dreadful revenge. But he showed no other sign of feeling, lest he satisfy his enemy.

Turi then was living in his house Rangiatea, and his wife, Rongorongo, had a new baby daughter, whose name was Tane roroa. One night Rongorongo went outside to feed her baby and she heard Uenuku singing a chant about Oe potiki:

Bring me the thousands,

bring me the many,

bring me all the Ngati rongotea!

Let Oe potiki work death. The first revenge is sweet!

Assemble here!

Let all who hear assemble!

She went to Turi and told him, and Turi at once knew what this meant. He knew that Uenuku was planning a great revenge for the murder of his son and for being made to eat his heart.

Now Kupe had by this time returned to Hawaiki, and when Turi heard of the land he had discovered, this land of high mists inhabited only by birds, he decided to come to Aotearoa. He therefore embarked with all his family in his wife's canoe, the Aotea, and from Kupe he received the directions. 'Mind that you keep sailing to the east,' said Kupe, 'where the sun rises. Keep your bow pointing always in that direction.' Yet Turi reached these islands in spite of this advice. He tried to persuade Kupe to accompany him, but Kupe replied with the saying which we still use, 'E hoki Kupe?', which means in the pakeha's words, 'Not I!'

'When you get there,' said Kupe, 'you had better go at once to the river I found. Its mouth opens to the west, on that side of the island. You will find there only two inhabitants. One carries its tail straight up and sticking out. Do not mistake the voice of the other for a man, it cries out just like one. If you stand on the other side of the river and call out to them, you will hear them answering you from the other side. That will be the place I found.' This place that Kupe spoke of is the mouth of the Patea river.

In his haste to get away Turi nearly forgot to take on board the two great steering paddles that belonged to the Aotea - their names were Kautu ki te rangi and Te Rokuowhiti - and also the two bailing scoops, Tipua horonuku and Rangi ke wheriko. They were fetched for him by his brother-in-law Tuau, and when Tuau had put them on board Turi said to him: 'Just come out a little way and see me started.' Good-naturedly, Tuau agreed and went on board, intending to leave the canoe as it passed the harbour opening.

And so the Aotea left Hawaiki, carrying some seed kumara of the variety called kakau; some edible rats in cages, and some tame green parrots; some pukeko, or swamp-hen; and seeds for growing the gourd, or calabash, and many other necessary things for founding a new settlement. Hence the name of that canoe, 'Aotea of the precious cargo'. There were also taken certain gods, in the form of the carved sticks in which their spirits lived, including Maru. The adze Te Awhiorangi, too, is said to have been brought here in the Aotea.

As they left the shore in the late afternoon Tuau sat in the stern paddling, as a gesture, to help his brother-in-law on his way. Near the harbour entrance Turi said to him: 'You come to the middle here and let me paddle,' which Tuau did. But soon he found that they had gone well past the headland where he intended to get out, and Turi, who was short of crew, paid no attention when he was asked to stop. Thus Tuau was carried off by a trick of Turi's, and left Hawaiki grieving for his family, lest they think he had deserted them.

When daylight came, Tapo, the priest and navigator of that canoe, became insolent and disobedient to his chief (some say because of Turi's trickery to Tuau) and Turi had him thrown over the side. When Tapo found himself in the sea he called out cheerfully: 'Come on, Turi, let me live in the world a little longer,' as if it was all a joke. From his manner Turi realised that Tapo must be under the protection of Maru, one of the gods they had brought with them; and Maru, in fact, let Turi know that he was angry, for Turi distinctly heard the god say: 'If you go without my servant you will never reach Nukuroa'. Not to anger Maru any further, he therefore turned about, and took that navigator on board again.

And so they sailed across the ocean, in the direction of these islands and not towards the east as Kupe had directed. When they had been at sea for some days and had been through some heavy weather, the Aotea's seams began to open. Water from the waves was pouring through the cracks beneath the topstrakes, the bailers were hard at it day and night, and Turi was constantly reciting chants to keep the canoe afloat. At last they sighted the small rocky island of Rangitahua. They landed there, and replaced the lashings and caulking of their topstrakes, and refitted the whole canoe. It is said they also obtained some berries of the karaka tree and brought them to this land. If this is so, then they were there in the month of March.

Now another canoe was travelling in company with Aotea. It was called Te Ririno, and its chief was Potoru. This canoe also landed at Rangitahua. It was carrying some dogs, to supply both food and clothing for the chiefs in their new country. On Rangitahua they killed two of these dogs, Whakapapa tuakura and Tangi kakariki. One, they cut up and offered as a sacrifice to the gods, and the other they cooked and shared amongst themselves. When they had eaten, they unwrapped a sacred cloak called Hunakiko and spread it on the ground, and called upon the gods to see them safely over the last part of their journey. They set up posts to the gods on that island, and removed all bad luck from the canoes by saying over them the prayers Keuenga, Takanga, and Whaka inuinumanga. After that they were ready to embark.

Then there was a great argument down on the shore between Turi and Potoru, the chiefs of the two canoes. They had different ideas about the proper sailing directions. Turi was for sailing east, according to Kupe's strict advice, and Potoru was for heading in the direction where the sun went down. Turi kept repeating what Kupe had said, but Potoru insisted that they must travel west; so Turi gave in, and it is said that they left Rangitahua on a south-west course. As a result of this the Ririno was wrecked on a reef in that island group, and hence the popular saying about the 'obstinacy of Potoru'.

Now Potoru was right, of course. But after this Turi set his canoe toward the rising sun, and still reached Aotearoa. During this last part of the voyage Turi's wife Rongorongo gave birth to a son, whom they named Tutawa. By this time they had only nine of their kumara left. Turi offered one of them to the gods to secure protection for Tutawa. He touched the roof of the baby's mouth with it and spoke the appropriate prayers and cast it into the sea, and then sailed on. Some days later they sighted land, and even at that time there was trouble on board. One of the crew, a man named Tuanui a te ra, who had a crooked foot, was disobedient and insolent to Turi, so he was thrown overboard.

At last the Aotea was run ashore on the western side of the north island, in a little harbour north of Kawhia to which the name Aotea was given. One of the first things the voyagers saw when they walked on the beach to stretch their legs was the crooked footprint of a man-none other than Tuanui a te ra.

They rested for a while and then, leaving Aotea in the harbour, set off to the south to look for the river running west that Kupe had described. One party, Turi sent ahead under Pungarehu, with stones from some of their karaka berries, to be planted on the way. Then Turi followed with another party, crossing many rivers facing west and giving them the names they bear today. He skirted round Kawhia harbour and named it. He crossed what we call the Mokau river, naming it Moekau from his sleeping there. The Waitara he named from the wide steps he took when fording its mouth. At two places he spread out the sacred cloak or kura called Hunakiko, and from this act those places were named Oakura and Maraekura. To other places also, Turi gave the names that are written down in the book by Governor Grey.

At last Turi reached the river mouth that Kupe had described, and there he built a pa, or fortified village, which he called Rangitawhi. It is said that there were no inhabitants when Kupe came to these islands, yet Turi built a pa. He erected a post there which he called Whakatopea, a house which he named Matangirei, and a latrine called Paepae hakehake. His whata, or storehouse, he named Paeahua, and the well he dug was Parara ki te uru. To the river itself he gave its name, Patea.

At this settlement Turi planted his kumara seed. Because of the sacrifice at sea, they had now only eight. These they divided into pieces and planted separately, and when the shoots came up Turi used the chant called Ahuroa to make the ground tapu and pro- mote the plants. As a result, in due season they lifted eight hundred baskets of kumara from that kumara plot.

Rows of puke (earth mounds) where kūmara will be planted

In this way Turi took possession of this part of the land that Kupe found. Rongorongo was his principal wife, and from their children sprang the tribes of the Whanganui district, and the Ngati Ruanui.

Source:

Maori Myths and Tribal legends

Antony Alpers

1966

Pages: 141-147

Debolar, The First Coconut

 Debolar, The First Coconut

(A Legend from Marshall Islands)

Most things of great value in the world have come from ordinary beginnings, and so it was with the coconut tree.

An old Marshallese legend tells that long ago, no one had ever seen a tree. There never yet had been any in all the world. When the first one grew, it was thought to be a wonderful thing. It was a coconut tree, and that great blessing was born from a woman. It grew from a living baby.

Some people don't believe this, but isn't there on the top end of each coconut a little face with nose, mouth, and two eyes?

Likileo is a place on the ocean side of Woja Island, in the beautiful Ailinglaplap Atoll. In Likileo, there once lived a good woman named Limokare, who had several children. She had no idea that one of them would become famous.

Her first child, a son named Lokam, looked much like other boys. But when her second child was born, all the people of the village came to see, for it was a very strange baby indeed. It was a coconut. Small and green, and with a clever little face that had eyes, nose, and mouth, but still-a coconut!

The mother was pleased with her baby. She named him Debolar. No one had ever seen a coconut before, and the people of the village admired the odd little baby. All, that is, except his elder brother, Lokam, who didn't like him at all.

"Why do you keep that queer-looking thing?" he said to his mother, again and again."Kill it, and throw it away."

"No!" cried his mother."Debolar is my baby, I love him."

She gave him her milk, and he drank until his little belly grew full and round. If there is a person who doesn't believe that Debolar could drink milk, let him look inside a coconut. It is filled with milk, even as Debolar was, that day long ago. The milk is rich and sweet and is good food. Like Debolar, many babies in the Pacific islands today have no other food but coconut milk. It makes them fat and happy.

The mother gave Debolar the best of care. She wove him a little basket. She used koba, or bamboo, which was of great value in those days. It didn't grow in Woja Island but sometimes came drifting in on the tide. Limokare put the baby in the basket and hung it up. She rocked him and sang him to sleep.

Lokam, the elder brother, thought that was very silly.“I won't be a brother to such a thing," he said."I don't care to be in the same house with it."

After a while, Lokam went away and found another home. All the same, he came once in a while, just to look at the baby.

Debolar grew larger and larger. Soon, he learned to talk and to understand what people said. In that way, he found out that Lokam was asking their mother to get rid of her baby.

"Don't listen to that brother of mine," said Debolar to his mother."He'll never be of much use to you. I'm small, andI  look odd, it's true. But I'll be valuable some day. I'll make you comfortable and happy. Just wait and see."

"Don't worry, my son," said Limokare,"I'm not going to throw you away. You came into this world for a good reason."

"And so I did," replied Debolar."I came into this world to be eaten and worn and used."

"Eaten, my poor child!" exclaimed his mother."And worn! And used!"

"Yes, Mother," said Debolar."That's what I'm here for."

One day, he said to his mother,"The time has come for you to bury me under your window."

The window was made of thatch. It swung out, a little way from the ground, making a shelter.

His mother was surprised."Bury you alive, my poor little baby?" she cried.

"Yes, alive," replied Debolar."I'm not going to die. I will live. I'll come back to you and stay with you always."

"How can you come back, and how shall I know you, my child?" asked Limokare.

"I'll be a tree," said Debolar.

"And what's that, my son?"

"Wait and see," he said."I'll be very small at first, and I'll need your care. But I'll grow, and I'll have many parts. Every one of them will be useful. And I'll have dozens of children and hundreds of grandchildren."

He and his mother had a long talk. He told what the parts of his body would be, and how they could be used. It was a strange story, but his mother believed it.

The mother buried the coconut baby under her window, as he had told her to do. She looked there many times a day.

The people of the village didn't believe that she would see Debolar again."He's gone forever," they said.

"And so much the better," said the elder son, Lokam."You did right to put him into the ground. Just let him stay there."

One day, the mother saw a small, green sprout."Debolar is coming," she said. It was a leaf, folded around itself. She opened it carefully.

"How beautiful!" she said."It looks like the wing of the flying fish."

She gave the little coconut sprout a name, drirjojo. The word drir meant "sprout" and jojo meant "flying fish." As the leaf grew and spread open, and other leaves came, she gave the tree new names. The coconut tree has them to this day.

People came from far and near to see the first tree in all the world. They called it ni, which became the Marshallese word for “coconut."

The little tree became tall and beautiful and strong. It grew away from the window, high in the air. At its top grew waving leaves that made cool shade for Limokare. She often sat beneath them and wove mats from them.

Limokare told the people the things that Debolar had told her. She told them how the parts of the tree could be used-the leaves, the wood, the bark, the roots, the nuts, the husks, and the juices. The tree was a great blessing to her. It gave her many useful things.

The elder brother, Lokam, no longer wanted Debolar to be killed. He also liked the gifts of the Coconut tree. He boasted about his brother.

"We kept him, and we cared for him, and we planted him," he said."Now the rest of you may have his coconut children and grandchildren. They will be your food, your drink, your oil, your clothes, your wood, and your houses."

He would look around, then, to see if all the people were listening. Then he would say,"Don't forget, I'm his brother."

Source

Legends of the Micronesia (Book One) 

Eve Grey

1951

Pages: 82-85

Tiki the First Man

 Tiki the First Man 

(A Legend from Mangareva/Tuamotu/Marquesas)

Tiki was the first man.

It was said among our people that when Tiki was born Atea himself set Tiki apart to bring forth all the children of men in this world below.

When Tiki was young his parents said to him, 'You, Tiki, go outside and play,' and they remained together inside the house.

One day when he was playing by himself Tiki grew tired of the games he knew. He returned to the house and saw his parents at their own enjoyment. Tiki desired this. He therefore went away from the house and he heaped up earth in the form of a woman. He gave it a body and a head, with arms and legs, and breasts and ears and all that was required to make a woman. Having done this he acted in the manner of his father, and he there became a man.

Tiki took that woman for his wife, and her name was Hina one, that is Earth Maid.

The child that was born to Hina one was a human being, and they named her Tiaki te keukeu. She grew handsome. One day Hina one asked her husband to go to the world below to fetch some fire for them, for all the fires in that village had gone out. But Tiki was lazy and he refused, and so his wife said, 'Then indeed I shall go myself to get us fire.'

'No, no,' said Tiki, 'let us stay here quietly,' and they argued thus; but Hina was strong in her will. She said to her husband, 'You stay here. You have your daughter. I will go to the world beneath, as the moon goes.'

And Hina went below. And she was swollen with child, like the moon. In the world below she gave birth to her twin sons Kuri and Kuro, who knew not their father.

***

Tiki remained in Havaiki with his daughter; yet it was not seemly that he should have her openly. He therefore built an inland house in a valley of that land, and he said to his daughter: 'You live up there, and I shall live down here by the sea. Up there you will find the house that I have built and a man there who resembles me in every way. You will think it is Tiki, but you will be mistaken.' So Tiaki te keukeu did as her father had told her; she went up the valley to that other house.

Now Tiki ran swiftly by another path, and he reached the house before her. When Tiaki arrived he greeted her saying, 'Welcome, respected one! Enter this house of mine! Be seated on this mat!' That girl did so, she went into the house, and Tiki desired her. He took her with his hands. She cried out, 'No, I do not wish to. You are my father.' And Tiki pressed her, saying,'It is true that your father and I are as like as two drops of water, but he is down there by the sea. I am of the upland.'

Soon that girl consented to live with Tiki in that house, and children were born to them. But after a time she became disgusted with her father, and she left him to seek her mother in the world below.

Her mother was disgusted also when her daughter told her, and they two made a plot to kill Tiki. They lit an oven in which to cook him, and sent the god Tuako up to fetch him. But Kuri and Kuro, the twin sons of Tiki, who knew not their father, made objection, and they prevented it. When Tuako went to the world above he brought back a man named Katinga. It was Katinga whom they cooked and ate instead of Tiki.

***

While Tiki and his daughter were living together he told her one day that he was going out to catch fish. He asked her to follow him later with a basket for the fish. 'You will come to the beach,' he said, 'and go to a place where you will see a flock of birds hovering about something which is sticking out of the sand. That will be the place.'

And so Tiaki did as he had told her, she went to the beach with her fish basket. She saw the flock of birds and also something standing up above the sand. Thinking that it was their pointed stick for stringing fish, she took hold of it and pulled. And Tiki, who had covered his body with sand, jumped up crying, 'Who's this, pulling on my ure?' And he laughed at her shame.

When she saw that it was her father and that what she had in her hand was his, Tiaki reproached him: 'O Tiki, this is a dreadful thing that you have done, a most horrible act of yours!' And he laughed at her again; and she called him : ‘Tiki the slimy’, and ‘Tiki the rigid', and 'Tiki the trickster'. That is how Tiki earned those names of his.

After these events were known, the women of that land did not like Tiki. They called him ‘Tiki the god of kaikaia’, meaning a person who eats human flesh or who sleeps with his relations.

***

It was said of Tiki that he was two men, a handsome Tiki and an ugly Tiki; and the people saw his ugly and his handsome side at different times.

One day Tiki asked his womenfolk to make him a maro to wear around his waist. To tease him they gave him a maro full of slits and holes. He therefore made one for himself, and he wore it back-to-front so that the tail hung down before him. Then with his eyes and nose all streaming with the mess that comes from there, and uttering noises from his bottom, he made his way up the valley, taunting them.

'Kill him! Kill him!' cried the people when they saw this. But when they tried to catch him Tiki disappeared, and suddenly he returned to them in his handsome form. It was said that Tiki kept all his ugly features in the hole in his bottom and took them out when he wished to wear them.

One day when Tiki appeared in that valley in his evil form the people caught him. They tried to pull his eyes out but they could not. They pulled out his tongue and tied it in a knot, but he untied it. They tried to knock his teeth out but they would not loosen. They cut his ears off, but he picked them up and stuck them on again. They cut off his ure, but he picked that up and put it back. They cut off his feet, but he put them on again, and the same when they cut off his arms. At length those people cut open Tiki's belly and they unravelled everything in there. At that he burst into tears and he ran away from all those people to the beach, and he remained there for a long time, sleeping in the sand.

They caught him again. They tried to rub off his skin with pieces of coral, but it would not leave his body. They lit an oven to roast him, but they could not drag him into it. Suddenly while the people were doing all these things the ugliness of Tiki left him, and he was handsome again before their eyes. Immediately all the women desired Tiki, and there was a great commotion. The women cried out to the men, 'Now leave him alone! Leave him alone!' So the men gave Tiki to the women, and at once he was ugly again; therefore they seized him and tore him to pieces. Yet every time they did this, Tiki was restored.

When they had torn him apart three times Tiki escaped from those women, and he slept once more in the sand by the sea, all covered up except his eyes. As he lay there a great sea-eel came, and it seized him by the foot.

Tiki cried out to his wife, Hina one, 'Bring me my knife, my cutting-shell!' Hina one was wearied of Tiki's tricks, and she answered, 'I am tired of sleeping with a demon.' But she took his head and pulled, and the eel pulled also, and there was a tugging match between them. Suddenly while the eel and the woman were pulling. Tiki disappeared.

This story of Tiki is concluded.

Tiki - Marquesas Islands, circa 1800

Source:

Legends of the South Seas

Antony Alpers

1970

Pages: 68-72

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