Manaii and the Spears

Manaii and the Spears

(A Legend from Chatham Islands)

Manii was a chief in Havaiki. His children were born there, and there in that land, he grew old and bent.

Hard trouble rose between the tribes, therefore Manaii ordered the making of spears. He said to his sons: ‘Go into the bush and cut down an akepiri tree. When you have felled it split it into eighty pieces. Make those pieces into spears.’

Therefore the sons of Manaii felled the akepiri tree and split it into eighty pieces, and of them, each one had a piece; and they adzed those pieces into eighty spears.

But the heart-wood of that tree remained; they could not adze the crooked heart-wood, it was twisted in the grain. They returned to their home and said to Manaii, ‘We cannot chip the heart to make it straight; the wood is crooked in the grain.’

‘Go again to chip the heart of your tree to finish it properly.’ But those sons of Manaii could not chip the heart to make it straight.

‘How many spears then have you?’

‘We have eighty.’

Said Manaii, ‘That is enough, that every one of you may have a spear.’ After this, the sons of Manaii threw away the heart-wood of the tree.

Then Niwa the wife of Manaii spoke to the youngest of her sons, her last-born child, to Kahukaka: ‘Go you and adze the heart of the tree of your elder brothers. Go at early dawn lest they should see you.’ Then Niwa showed her youngest son the way to adze that wood, she gave him the pattern secretly, and said, ‘Go you and chip it quickly, come back soon. Then your elder brothers will not know.’

Kahukaka went, he found the timber of his elder brothers lying and he quickly chipped that wood, he followed carefully the teaching of his mother; he chipped the heart into a well-made spear, most smoothly worked. He left it and returned.

Afterwards, those elder brothers came to the place and saw the work. They were amazed, the adzing was so skilled; it was more beautiful than theirs, and they asked one another. ‘Who has chipped this heart-wood which we could not?’

They took the spear to their home and showed it to Manaii, and all the people gazed at it and asked who worked this wood so well. But that was not discovered. For Niwa concealed the sacred knowledge of her youngest son.

Then the people went about asking, ‘Who has done this?’

One night Manaii heard Niwa make a saying about her youngest son. She said this word:

You are my Kahukaka nui,

Got by me in the kakahi wastes.

Hence you have come forth a man,

Hence you have become great.

Thus Niwa spoke about her son Kahukakanui.

Now Kahukakanui was not the child of Manaii but was begun in the kakahi wastes, when Niwa went there secretly with Porotehiti. And he was full of skill and knowledge, this son of Porotehiti. But the sons of Manaii did not know the adzing of heart-wood.

Now when Manaii heard the word of his wife concerning Kahukaka, he knew that Niwa had done a wrong thing, and his thought was, ‘Who has done this wrong thing with Niwa?’ Therefore he collected seven-score men, and he went to fight with Porotehiti.

When Porotehiti heard that Manaii was coming to fight with him he gathered all his people, more in number than Manaii’s. The two made war.

Manaii rushed forward with his eighty spears, and Porotehiti’s people turned and ran. Then Manaii spiked them all in the holes in their bottoms. Great was the slaughter made by Manaii of Porotehiti’s people.

And Porotehiti himself was wounded in the eye by Manaii’s spear. For that reason he made the chant which healed his eye, the whai konehi; it is the chant our people use when anyone is wounded in the eye, by a spear or by a splinter.

In this fighting between Manaii and Porotehiti in Havaiki, many were lost on both sides. Through this was the cause of man-eating.

It was through Manaii also that war grew with the people of Havaiki, and Manaii’s evil clung to them until they sailed away to this land, to Rekohu.

Rekoho (Chatham Islands)

Source

Legends of the South Seas

Antony Alpers

1970

Pages: 342 - 344

The Woman in the Moon

The Woman in the Moon

(A Tale from Tahiti)

There was noise at night at Marioro, it was Hina beating tapa in the dark for the god Tangaroa, and the noise of her mallet was annoying that god, he could endure it no longer.

He said to Pani, ‘Oh Pani, is that noise the beating of tapa?’ and Pani answered, ‘It is Hina tutu po beating fine tapa.’

Beating tapa

Then Tangaroa said, ‘You go to her and tell her to stop, the harbour of the god is noisy.’

Pani, therefore, went to Hina's place and said to her, ‘Stop it, or the harbour of the god will be noisy.’

But Hina replied, ‘I will not stop, I will beat out white tapa here as a wrapping for the gods Tangaroa, Oro, Moe, Ruanu’u, Tu, Tongahiti, Tau utu, Te Meharo, and Punua the burst of thunder.’

So Pani returned and told the god that Hina would not stop.

‘Then go to her again,’ said Tangaroa, ‘and make her stop. The harbour of the god is noisy!’

So Pani went again, and he went a third time also, but with no result. Then Pani too became furious with Hina, and he seized her mallet and beat her on the head.

She died, but her spirit flew up into the sky, and she remained forever in the moon, beating white tapa. All may see her there.

From that time on she was known as Hina nui aiai i te marama, Great-Hina-beating-in-the-Moon.

Source:

Legends of the South Seas

Antony Alpers

1970

Page 80

The Stingy Girl

The Stingy Girl

(A Legend from Hawaii)

Pe-le, the fire goddess, lives in a palace under a great volcano on the Island of Hawaii. That is what some of the people of Hawaii still believe. They say that she sleeps most of the time. But when she wakes up, she becomes restless. Then she likes to leave her home and wander about the Islands.

Pe-le is very tricky. When she leaves the fire pit of the volcano, she changes herself so that no one will recognize her. Sometimes she looks like a beautiful young girl. At other times she seems to be an ugly old woman.

Besides being tricky, Pe-le has a bad temper. She gets angry very easily and very quickly. The Hawaiians fear her and want to keep her happy. They are careful to speak softly when they say her name, and they leave little offerings for her along the volcano trails. Sometimes they put her favourite flower, a red le-hu-a blossom, on a stone for her, or they leave an orange or other bits of food.

The people are right to be careful. For when Pe-le gets angry, the sky grows dark. The rain falls. There is thunder and lightning. The earth trembles and the fire pit sends up columns of grey smoke. The lava in the pit boils and bubbles like thick, black tar. Then cracks open up in the earth, and fiery rivers of lava flow down the mountain.

The rivers of lava burn everything in their way. They burn the sugarcane. They burn the leaves off the trees. They burn the farms and the houses. They burn the churches and the stores. - No wonder the Hawaiians fear Pe-le!

Once, a long time ago, two young girls named Ko-lo-mu-o and Pa-hi-na-hi-na were left alone in a village at the foot of a certain mountain on Hawaii. Their parents had gone with the rest of the villagers to clear land for the chief. While Ko-lo-mu-o and Pa-hi-na-hi-na were taking a walk, they found two ripe breadfruit lying under a breadfruit tree.

Pa-hi-na-hi-na said to her friend, “The oven is still hot. Let’s take the breadfruit back to the village and roast them.”

So that is what they did. Soon the breadfruit was baking on the hot stones in the i-mu. White smoke filled the air. Sweet, sticky juices bubbled on the hot stones and made the girls hungry.

But suddenly the dogs in the village began to bark fiercely. Pa-hi-na-hi-na looked up and saw a strange old woman climbing slowly up the path.

The old woman was using a staff made from a le-hu-a branch to help her climb. She was not a pretty sight. Her white hair was long and matted. On her head was an old lau-ha-la hat, with the leaves all split and torn. Her clothes were dirty and ragged. Worst of all, she smelled of smoke and ashes and burned wood. Beneath her shaggy eyebrows, her eyes peered out, like bits of hard, shiny black lava.

The old woman spoke to Ko-lo-mu-o first. “I see that you are roasting breadfruit. I have come a long way since morning and I am very hungry. Are you cooking your breadfruit for anyone in particular?”

Ko-lo-mu-o did not like the looks of the old woman and said rudely, “Yes, I am. I am offering it to our family god. Then I plan to eat it myself.”

The old woman tapped her le-hu-a staff nervously. “And who, may I ask, is your family god?” she said.

“It is La-i,” said Ko-lo-mu-o. “Now get out of my way, old woman!”

But the old woman moved closer to Ko-lo-mu-o. “Is your god La-i powerful?” she asked. Her breath was very hot in Ko-lo-mu-o’s face. Ko-lo-mu-o stamped her foot angrily. “Of course he is powerful! Now, will you get out of my way?”

The old woman went over to Pa-hi-na-hi-na. She pointed a crooked finger at her. “And you, my girl, are you, too, making an offering?”

Pa-hi-na-hi-na was afraid of this fierce old woman. “Yes, yes!” her voice trembled. “I offer my breadfruit to Pe-le.”

The old woman seemed pleased. She cackled with laughter. “I’d like some of your breadfruit,” she said. “I am hungry.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, the breadfruit is not done,” said Pa-hi-na-hi-na. “It hasn’t been cooking long enough.”

“Nonsense!” cried the old woman. “Of course it is done!” With these words, she poked Pa-hi-na-hi-na’s breadfruit with her le-hu-a staff. The large fruit broke open, and out came a burst of steam.

So while Ko-lo-mu-o waited for her breadfruit to toast, the old woman and Pa-hi-na-hi-na sat on a lava rock and shared the cooked breadfruit. As she sat there, the old woman asked the girl many questions.

“Where do you live?” she began.

“In a house in the village,” replied Pa-hi-na-hi-na. “Ko-lo-mu-o’s family lives in one half of the house, and my family lives in the other half.”

The old woman’s eyes squinted at Pa-hi-na-hi-na. “Come closer to me,” she said. “I have something important to tell you.”

Pa-hi-na-hi-na moved nearer, and the old woman whispered to her, “When you go home this evening, tell your family to build a le-pa-a good fence made of tapa-cloth flags-around their end of the house!"

With this strange advice, the old woman gobbled up the rest of her breadfruit. Then she picked up her staff and, without even saying “Thank you,” took the trail up the mountain and disappeared.

That evening Pa-hi-na-hi-na told her parents about the old woman and the breadfruit. They looked at each other in terror.

“The old woman must have been Pe-le!” said Pa-hi-na-hi-na’s father.

“Yes! Yes! It was Pe-le!” agreed her mother.

Quickly Pa-hi-na-hi-na’s parents began to tear up big squares of tapa and to tie them like flags to poles stuck in the ground around their end of the house. When they had finished, Pa-hi-na-hi-na’s father gathered his family behind the fence of grey tapa flags.

That night when it grew dark, the villagers noticed a blood-red glow on the mountain. They were uneasy.

One fisherman laughed at their fears. “Why it is only a fire that the bird-catchers have built to warm themselves,” he said.

In a little while, the fire died down, and the villagers stopped worrying. But some time later when they looked up at the mountain again, they saw another fire. This one was farther down the slope.

“How strange to see another fire,” they murmured to each other. “What do you think it means?"

“You worry over nothing,” laughed the same fisherman again. “Don’t you know that it grows cold at night on the mountain? No doubt the canoe builders have built a fire to warm themselves.”

The villagers believed the fisherman. It was growing late. They returned to their homes and fell asleep peacefully on their soft mats. They did not know that Pe-le was on her way to visit their mountain.

The tricky Pe-le did not stamp her feet, this time and cause the earth to shake, or the rain to fall, or the lightning to flash. Instead, she worked very quietly. She let the lava bubble and seep out of the cracks in the earth. She sent little fiery streams down the mountain without a sound. She let the streams grow bigger and bigger and wider and wider until they covered all the countryside. Then she sent the lava toward the village

When the lava reached the village, it burned up all the houses It burned the chief’s house. It. burned the house of the laughing fisherman. It burned the half of Pa-hi-na-hi-na’s house in which Ko-lu-mu-o and her family lived.

But the fiery lava could not get through the le-pa that Pe-le had told Pa-hi-na-hi-na’s family to build. The magic tapa fence had kept them safe.

Source:

Hawaiian tales

Helen Lamar Berkey

1968

Pages: 39-45

Fiti Au Mua, Who Was Born in the Sea

Fiti Au Mua, Who Was Born in the Sea

(A Tale from Samoa)

Veu and Veu were the couple who held land from the chief Tufu le Mata’afa, here in Fiti uta. Veu was pregnant and had a longing for some kape which was growing in their garden. It was a good one, and ready for digging, but it was marked to go as first-fruit to the chief for using the land of his. He was having a canoe built at the time, and he wanted it for workmen's payment. Still, Veu had her longings for the kape, and she got it and ate it.

Some person of Mata'afa's family told him that the kape was eaten. Then that chief was very angry, and he drove out Veu and Veu, drove them off his land. They went off in his anger.

They took a swimming-board and swam together out to sea to find some other land. After a time they came to the place called Fanga fetau na'i on the island of Niue.

The chiefess of that place was Sinasina le Fe'e - she had no husband and was chief. It happened that two of her people were in the water fishing for an offering to go as cold - food with her kava. These two were Saumani ali’i and his wife Saumani tamaitai. They were fishing together with a hand-net.

Now Veu who was pregnant gave birth to her baby on the back of a wave, but she could not take the child up-it floated on the sea. Thus that boy was carried into Saumani's net. That man looked down. Something human was there. He poured it out again. The sea returned it to his net. He said, ‘A man is caught.’ Said his wife, ‘Then what are you looking for? Take that thing as an offering, take it as cold-food for the kava of our chiefess.’ Saumani took it to the land, to the house of their chiefess.

Veu and Veu went ashore and saw the child. They said to the chiefess who had no husband: ‘Do not waste the boy that has been born. Do not eat him. Let us take care of him as your son. Let us rear him as fondly as a pet and call him your son. Fiti au mua.‘

This was done: and an old woman was found who acted as a mother to Fiti au mua. Her own son's name was Lau foli; he was a true Niuean; he was a warrior, that foster-mother's son.

Fiti au mua grew up in the care of this woman. He went about with other boys, but they cast things up at him. 'You are a Samoan boy whose parents were driven out in anger.’

Fiti asked his parents if it were true and they replied that Mata’afa drove them away in anger. ‘You were born on a wave in the sea.’

Then Fiti was angry and prepared to fight. He cut out two clubs for himself of toa wood, one for each hand, and he practised swinging them. He came into the house swinging two clubs, and while he was practising he hit his foster-mother on the head. She died.

War club (Samoa)

Said Veu his mother: “What is the reason you have killed your mother?” He replied, ‘If only Fiti's clubs should revive at home, we would have prosperity.’

Then Fiti went with his parents to visit their homeland, and a battle was fought at once. That was the first fight. Mata'afa’s people drove them back and forth, they were driven east and driven west. Fiti was chased and pushed down. The club in his left hand fell, but the club in his right hand remained.

Then Fiti dived into the reef passage at Aumuli, and he swam beneath the sea. He came up first at Fiji. He fought at once with them. Fiji was overcome. Then Fiti swam to Tonga; fought with Tonga, overcame. He returned here to his own land in Samoa. He went inland at A’ana. He crossed over to Savai'i; fought a fight at Pu`a pu’a; continued to fight at Matautu, where Le Fanonga helped against him. Then Fiti was killed and the wars were ended.

Source:

Legends of the South Seas

Antony Alpers

1970

Page: 293-295

Why the Sea Slug Has Two Mouths

Why the Sea Slug Has Two Mouths

(A Story from Samoa)

There was a war between the fishes and the birds. The day had been named on which this war would start, and at low tide that morning the fishes’ war-party went to the reef. So did the birds. Their chosen battleground was on that place. The birds and fishes fought, and all the fish were thrown into the sea. Cried the sea-slug, “Bravo, birds, bravo.”

Then the fishes climbed up again and began to throw the birds upon the land. Cried the sea-slug when the fish were winning, ‘Bravo, fishes! O my friends, bravo.’

Thus neither of those war-parties knew which side the slug was on; and thus we say, ”The sea-slug has two mouths-one at either end.’

So it is also with men. When a chief makes a speech both ways we say, ‘He has two mouths, like a sea-slug.’ For the cowardly men are known.

Sea slug 

Source:

Legends of the South Seas

Antony Alpers

1970

Page: 301

The Story of the Sun-Child

                        The Story of the Sun-Child                        

(A Legend from Tonga)

Once upon a time, there was a great chief in Tonga who had a beautiful young daughter. She was so fair that her father hid her from the eyes of men so that no one could see her, for he had not found a man whom he thought worthy to be her husband.

The chief built a high, thick fence down on the shore. Behind this, she was allowed to sit and bathe in the sea every day, until she grew up to be so beautiful that there was no maiden to compare with her.

Now it happened one day that the Sun looked down from his home in the sky and saw her as she rested on the white sand. Immediately he fell in love with her, and after a time a child was born to her, and she called him the Sun-Child.

The child grew and developed into a handsome lad. He was proud and strong and used to beat the other children as if he were the son of a great chief. One day while all the village lads were playing together on the green he was angered by something. And he picked up a stick and beat them with it until their bodies were sore and his arm ached.

Then they rose up and taunted him, saying, “Who are you, and why should you beat us? We know who are our fathers, but you-you have no father!" At this, the Sun-Child was filled with a great rage, and he would have tried to kill them. But he seemed to be rooted to the ground, and his voice became hoarse and his eyes brimmed with tears.

For a moment he stood and glared at them. Then with a loud cry he ran quickly to his own house. His mother was inside, and he seized her by the arm, crying out. “Tell me, mother, who is my father? What do the village boys mean?" And he burst into tears.

“Hush, my son," said his mother, “take no notice of them and do not let them trouble you, for you are the son of a greater chief than their fathers."

“But who is my father?" asked the lad again.

His mother laughed scornfully and said. “Who are those village boys, and why do they despise my son? They are the children of men, but the Sun is your father."

So the Sun-Child wiped away his tears and was happy. “I will not talk to those children of men any longer. I will not even live with them, for I scorn them. I shall go and find my father," he said defiantly.

He called “Farewell” to his mother and set off without ever a backward glance, and she gazed after him until he was hidden by the bushes and the trees. Through the forest, he strode until he came to the beach where his own canoe lay, and at high tide, he launched it and sailed away to find his father.

Now it was the early dawn when he hoisted his sail, and he steered toward the east, where the Sun was rising, but as time passed the Sun rose higher and higher, and though the boy shouted loudly his father did not hear him.

Then he tacked and sailed over to the west as the Sun began to dip toward the horizon, but although he made a fair speed he could not reach his father before he disappeared beneath the waves. The boy was left alone in the wide sea to ponder his next plan.

“My father climbs up out of the water in the east,” he said to himself, “so it is there I must go to catch him.” He tacked again and sailed eastward all night, and as morning dawned and the Sun rose close to him he shouted aloud. “Look, father, I am here!”

“Who are you?” asked the Sun as it climbed steadily higher.

“Surely you know me! I am your son." cried the lad, “and I have left my mother behind in Tonga. Stay, oh, stay awhile and talk to me."

“I may not stay,” said the Sun, “for the people of earth have already seen me. You should have been a little earlier. Now I must go on my way." He bade his son goodbye and rose even higher in the sky.

“Father, stay,” cried the lad. “Could you not hide your face behind a cloud and then slip down and talk to me.

“Truly you are wise, my child,” said the Sun, laughing. “For a mere lad you have much wisdom." Then he called for a cloud, and when he had disappeared behind it he slipped down again into the sea. There he met his son and greeted him, and he asked after his mother, and they talked of many things.

“I can stay no longer," he said after a little while, “but listen to me: if you remain here until the darkness comes over the water, you will see my sister the Moon. She is your aunt, so call out to her when she begins to rise from the sea. She has two very precious things: ask her to give you one of them. You must ask for the one called Melaia, and she will give it to you. The other is called Monuia, and you may not have that. Now remember what I have told you and all will be well, but beware of evil if you disobey me."

Then the Sun leaped above the cloud again, and the world men thought how slowly he was climbing into the sky that day. Meanwhile, the Sun-Child furled his sail and lay down on the folds in his canoe and slept until evening. When he awoke he hoisted his sail and waited for the first pale streaks of moonlight. Then he hastened with all speed to his aunt, and he was close upon her before she had risen above the water.

“Luff, luff, child of the earth." she cried out, “or you will pierce my face with the stem of your canoe."

So the Sun-Child altered his steering oar and kept away a point, but he almost touched the moon's face as he passed. Then luffing into the wind suddenly, he shot up alongside her and caught hold of her firmly.

“I am no child of the earth,” he said. “I am the Sun's child, and he is your brother, so you are my aunt."

“Oh, are you indeed !" said the Moon. “That is a great surprise, but you are hurting me, nephew, so I beg you to loosen your hold."

“No, no," said the boy, “if I let you go you will leave me, and then you will not give me the present that my father told me to ask for."

“Truly I will not leave you, nephew,” replied his aunt. “I am indeed glad to see you, only let me go.” So the lad loosened his hold, and then the Moon asked what it was that the Sun had bade him ask for.

Now all this time the Sun-Child, who was a disobedient and high-spirited youth, had made up his mind not to follow his father’s instructions. So he said. “My father told me to ask for Monuia."

“For Monuia ?” cried his aunt with surprise “Perhaps, nephew, you have forgotten your father’s words? Did he not tell you to ask for Melaia

“No, he did not,” the lad replied indignantly. “He said I might have Monuia, and that you were to keep Melaia."

This is strange indeed, thought the Moon. Surely my brother cannot hate the boy and wish to harm him, and yet I must obey his commands. Then aloud she said to her nephew, “Very well, you shall have Monuia. It is only a little thing and wrapped in a piece of cloth. See, I will put it inside yet another wrapping and I will bind it around and around many times to make it firm so that it cannot come open by itself. Take it now, and I implore you to remember my words. Do not undo the wrapping and take out the present while you are still at sea. Now away with you, and set your sail for Tonga, and I warn you once more not to look at Monuia until you have landed or a terrible evil will befall you."

She bade him good-bye and climbed upward in the sky, giving her pale light to many. The mariners at sea welcomed her, and the children in the villages came out of their houses and started to dance on the grass.

Then the Sun-Child steered for Tonga and sailed for two nights and a day until on the morning of the second day he saw land. Then he could wait no longer, for he was an impatient lad and self-willed. So he took up the parcel that his aunt, the Moon, had given to him and untied the string. He unrolled each fold of cloth until at last, he held Monuia in his hand.

It was a most beautiful pearl shell of an unusual red colour. Such a one had never been seen before, and it shone in his hand as he gazed at it. He thought how fine it would look like an ornament hanging around his neck, and how all the boys would envy him.

At that moment he heard a mighty noise like a rushing and a splashing over the water. He looked up and saw from every side a great throng of fishes swimming toward him. There were fish of every kind, and great whales and sharks, porpoises and dolphins and turtles, and they leaped upon him in their eagerness to reach the shell. So great was their weight that his little canoe sank beneath the waves, and the Sun-Child was seen no more.

Source:

Tales from the South Pacific Islands

Anne Gittins

1977

Pages: 60-65

Two Lovers and How the Turtle Cycle was Discovered

Two Lovers and How the Turtle Cycle was Discovered

(A Legend from Palau)

A young man from Peleliu fell in love with a maiden from Ngerkebesang. She also loved him. But they lived on islands far apart, and their families did not approve of their love for each other.

Aerial view of Peleliu (Wikimedia Commons)

The two young people agreed that one night each month during the safe darkness of a new moon they would sail their outriggers to the Ngemelis, a tiny island located midway between their homes.

In the darkness of the moonless night, they talked and touched until the first blush of dawn. Quickly the young woman gathered her mat and her paddle to sail back home, but no matter how carefully she searched, she could not find her grass skirt. She had left it on the sandy beach, but all she could find was a few strands next to the footprint of a turtle. Finally, she made a new skirt from coconut fronds and hurried to her canoe. As she waved farewell to her lover he cried out to her. “I cannot wait a whole month; let us meet again soon.”

“When the moon is full.”

“Yes,” he shouted back. “I shall return to this very place when the moon is shining round and silver like a tuna’s stomach.”

On the appointed day, both lovers impatiently waited for the night so they could secretly begin their long paddle before the rising of the moon. First, the young man arrived and then the young woman. No sooner had she stepped onto the beach than her lover held her in his arms. But their embrace was suddenly ended as they both heard the sound of something else coming onto shore. They laughed with relief as they realized the large, dark figure was a turtle crawling toward them. But what they saw next surprised them even more. On the turtle’s front fin was entangled the maiden’s grass skirt, the very same skirt she lost the night of the new moon. As the two young people quietly watched, the mother turtle scraped a deep hole and laid egg after egg, each one round and white like a full moon. Nearly fifty eggs filled the sandy nest before the mother turtle covered them with sand, rested, and then slowly crawled back through the bubbling surf into the dark sea.

Thus the people of Palau learned during which season of the year to watch for turtles to return to the very beaches where they once hatched. When the moon is new, a turtle lays the first half of her eggs and then returns two weeks later when the moon is full to lay the second half. Up to a hundred eggs are carefully buried in the sand, where they stay warm and hidden. During the next full moon, the baby turtles hatch out. They pull with their tiny fins and crawl to the sea, following the “moon path,” the ribbon of light made by the full moon shining on the sea.

Source:

Micronesian Legends

Nancy Bo Flood, Beret E. Strong, William Flood

2002

Pages: 48-49

How Ina Tattooed the Fish

How Ina Tattooed the Fish

(A Tale from the Cook Islands)

Long ago there lived a fair maiden called Ina. Her parents were wealthy, for they possessed many beautiful shells which they wore as jewellery and a fine headdress made from scarlet and black feathers. These ornaments were put out to air in the sunshine regularly, and they were guarded with care.

One day the parents left their home, bidding Ina mind the treasures. But an evil spirit named Ngana, who was lurking behind the bushes, overheard their conversation. Waiting until the father and mother were out of sight, he came to Ina and begged to see the ornaments, and then he asked to try them on. With soft words and crafty ways, he adorned himself in all the finery, last of all adding the feathered headdress. Then he began to dance all around the house, for Ina had taken him indoors to prevent him from escaping. However, he spied a hole in the roof, and flying up through it he disappeared forever.

Not long afterward the parents returned, and when they discovered the loss of their treasures they were very angry with Ina. They beat her with sticks and branches of trees until the weeping girl ran down to the beach to escape from their rage. Her two brothers followed her, but she bade them farewell and declared that she would try to find Tinirau, the lord of all the fishes.

Now Tinirau lived on the Sacred Isle, which lay toward the setting sun. Ina gazed wistfully over the ocean, wondering how she could reach his island. Looking about, she noticed a small fish. the Avini, swimming by her feet.

“Ah, little Avini.” she cried to him, “are you an ocean-loving fish? Bear me on your back to Tinirau, and he shall be my royal husband.”

The little fish consented to take her, and Ina sat herself on its narrow back. But it had not gone far before it found her too heavy, so it turned over and tipped Ina into shallow water. Angry at this wetting, she struck the Avini again and again, and the stripes on the side of the little fish are still there to this day.

Returning to the shore, she looked about for a larger fish, and very soon a Paoro came near her, and he said he would be pleased to take her on this romantic voyage. Again Ina proved too heavy. The Paoro dropped her off his back and swam away, but not before Ina had struck him angrily and left blue marks upon him. He and his descendants still keep the marks, and like the Avini’s stripes, they have been called “Ina's tattooing.”

Then a white fish appeared, but even this one was unable to carry Ina, and she turned him completely black to mark her disgust at the third failure.

She now tried another fish, a sole, and together they reached the edge of the breakers before she was tipped off the fish’s back. This time, in her rage, Ina stamped on the head of the unfortunate sole with such energy that the eye on the underside came through to the upper side. Ever since that day, the sole has had to swim flatwise because one side of its face has no eye!

Then, far out in the deep water, a shark came in sight, and Ina called to it and begged it to take her to the Sacred Isle. When the great fish swam close to her, she mounted its broad back, taking with her two coconuts to eat on the journey.

When they were halfway across the sea she felt thirsty, so the shark raised up its dorsal fin, and on this Ina pierced the eye of one of her nuts and drank the milk. After a while, she again felt thirsty and asked the shark for help. This time the shark lifted its head, and Ina cracked the hard shell on its forehead. Smarting from the blow, the shark dived into the depths of the ocean and left her floating in the sea, and ever since then, he has carried a bump on his forehead.

The king of all sharks then came to rescue Ina, and after many more adventures she reached the Sacred Isle and went ashore. Here she was surprised to find salt-water ponds full of every sort of fish, and slowly she made her way to Tinirau's dwelling. Finding no one in the house, she beat gently on a drum that stood nearby. The noise of its booming reached Tinirau, who was over on another island, and he returned with haste to his home.

Ina saw him nearing, but suddenly being overcome with shyness, she hid behind a curtain. Tinirau could find no one and was about to set off once more when Ina beat again on the drum. This time Tinirau found the maiden. Enchanted by her beauty, and hearing of her courageous voyage to find him, he fell in love with Ina and made her his wife.

Ina then lived happily on the Sacred Isle with her husband, the lord of all the fishes: and in the course of time, she bore him two children, a boy and a girl.

Source:

Tales from the South Pacific Islands

Anne Gittins

1977

Pages: 76-78

https://readingwarrior.com/cook-islands-heroes-ina-tinirau/ (Picture)