A Mejenkwaad

A Mejenkwaad

(A Legend from the Marshall Islands)

On the small island of Ebon, a woman must never be left alone after having her first child. If a new mother is left alone, she might turn into a Mejenkwaad. A Mejenkwaad is a witch. A witch who eats people.

Ebon Atoll

One time on Ebon, a man and his wife were happily married. After a time, the woman became pregnant. Following the time of many tides a little son was born. This family of three was so happy!

The man fished and gathered food for his wife and son. The wife nursed their baby. The man was careful and never, not even once, left his wife alone. He knew about Mejenkwaad.

As their son approached his first birthday, his parents wished to have a celebration. Much food was needed. Everyone living on Ebon (which was not very big) was invited.

“My husband." the wife announced, “we need still more food. There is not enough taro or breadfruit on our whole island. Can you go to Bikini, and to Jaluit, and bring back more?"

The husband was uneasy at leaving, but he knew they needed more food. “I will go," he answered, “but you must stay with others to keep away the Mejenkwaad."

Do not worry," the young wife laughed. "It is already one year since our son's birth. I will be safe. You may take our son with you on his first canoe adventure!"

The boy and his father sailed for Jaluit. Of course, as soon as the boat was out of sight, the foolish wife turned into a Mejenkwaad. Soon she began to eat all the rest of the Islanders.

By the time the man and his son returned, all of the islanders had been devoured by the hungry Mejenkwaad. The man left his crew by the boat and walked with his son to the strangely quiet village. There he was met by the Mejenkwaad, disguised as his wife.

“Welcome home, husband,” the Mejenkwaad hissed. "I am so happy to see you and this nice fat son of ours." (The little boy looked very plump and tasty to the Mejenkwaad.)

“But where is everyone else?" asked the husband.

The Mejenkwaad gave a clever answer. “They are all down at the beach on the other side of the island. There has been a huge tuna catch. Let us hurry and join them before all the fish are gone! You go first, my husband. I will be right behind you.”

Let's go," answered the husband. “I will carry our son. You go first."

“No," insisted the Mejenkwaad. “You go first." She wanted to sneak up behind and eat them both!

The husband was puzzled at his wife's strange behaviour. He was also puzzled that the village was so very empty. It did not look as though anyone had been there for many days.

The little boy began to cry. “Quiet, my son," soothed the father. “Why," he wondered, “does my wife not come to comfort her son?"

To calm the crying boy, the father quickly made a small toy from the leaf of a coconut tree. This toy made a gentle whirring noise when the breeze blew. The little boy fell asleep in his father's arms.

“Now hurry," goaded the Mejenkwaad. “The fish will be all gone.” They hurried down the path, first the man and his son. Close behind them followed the Mejenkwaad. The path led into a dark forest, but a breeze from behind them kept the small toy whirring. The boy slept on.

As the path became darker, the Mejenkwaad crept Closer and closer. Soon she was right behind the man. She reached out her long arms. She was so close that her body blocked the forest breeze. The little toy stopped whirring.

“Waaa,” cried the boy. The man turned around to see why the wind had stopped. He was surprised to find his “wife" so close behind.

“You are too close, wife. You must give the breeze space to blow the toy." The Mejenkwaad moved back, and the toy whirred again. The little boy went back to sleep.

Now the path was even darker. This time the Meienkwaad decided to rush up quickly and grab the pair before the boy awoke. As she dashed forward her body again blocked the breeze and the toy became silent.

“What is the matter this time?" wondered the father. He turned around quickly and the Mejenkwaad almost ran right into him!

Now the father understood what was happening.

“Alas, my good wife is gone." he thought. “Now my son and l are in danger as well."

The father thought quickly. “I must relieve myself in the forest," he told the Mejenkwaad. “My son and I will be right back."

“All right, my dear," answered the Mejenkwaad. But hurry or the fish will be gone.”

Once hidden in the dark forest, the clever father found some palm leaves and made a new toy. This toy caught the breeze and made a sound, “rub-rub- rub." This sounded just like a person having gas. He put the toy high in a tree to catch the wind. Then he took his son and ran away into the forest.

“Rub~rub-rub," went the little toy. “My, that man has a lot of gas," thought the Mejenkwaad.

After quite a long wait, the “rub-rub-rub" sound was still loud. Mejenkwaad was tired of waiting. She held her nose and rushed into the forest. "I’ve got you now," she shouted as she grabbed at the sound. But all she grabbed was the little palm-leaf toy. She was so mad that she ate the toy!

A Mejenkwaad (by Ronnie Reimers)

Meanwhile, the man and his son ran to the far side of the island. A large pile of empty coconut shells lay there. The father picked up a shell and carved yet another toy. This one made a loud “whooo.” It sounded like a man calling for help.

He ran to the east shore of the island and put one of these toys high in the trees. Then he ran and put another on the west shore. He put yet another on the shore to the south.

Finally, he ran to his boat, on the north side of the island, and set off to sea with his son and his crew. "Hurry! I have a plan to get rid of this witch, but we must be far away before she finds us."

The Mejenkwaad was confused. She could hear the man calling “Whooo” from all over the little island. First, she ran to the east but found only the coconut-shell toy. The same thing happened when she rushed back to the west. It happened again when she ran to the south. She ate all of the shells and tried to think.

“The north!" she thought. “He must have run and hidden in the north.” She ran to the north. The Mejenkwaad searched all the huts in the village. All she found were bones, the bones of all the villagers she had eaten. They were dry and tasteless. There was not a bit of meat left. All the Mejenkwaad could think about was that plump and tasty little baby. Then she realized the canoe was gone. The man had escaped!

Because the Mejenkwaad was a witch, she had special powers. She stretched up her neck longer and longer until her head was taller than the tallest coconut palm. She no longer looked like a woman. Now she had a horrible head and a huge hungry mouth. From above the palms, she could see far out into the lagoon. She saw the little canoe sailing close to Jaluit.

I’ve got them now!" she cried. The Mejenkwaad stretched her neck out longer and longer. Then she flung out her horrible head to swallow the canoe.

The men in the canoe saw the giant head and were terrified. But the father had a plan. “Don’t be afraid. Follow my instructions exactly. When I cry out, ‘Turn to the left,’ you must instead turn the canoe sharply to the right."

The men were so frightened that they agreed at once. When the horrible head was almost upon them the father shouted, “Turn left!" The men, as instructed, turned the boat to the right. The Meienkwaad, hearing the cry “Turn left," turned at the last minute to the left. She missed the boat and bit down on a large mouthful of ocean water. She came up sputtering with rage.

The Mejenkwaad drew back for another try.

“This time,” the father instructed, "when I say, ‘Turn right,‘ you must instead turn the canoe to the left.”

Once again the Mejenkwaad struck out. When all appeared to be lost, the father cried out, “Turn right!" The boat, of course, turned to the left, but the Mejenkwaad, thinking the heat would go right, struck that way. Again, all she got was a mouthful of seawater.

By this time, the canoe had arrived in the region of Jaluit at a place called Anwar. Here there is a deep crevice in the reef. Many large fish hide in this place. The men quickly set anchor and waited.

Once again the father made a toy. This time it was a small glider made from the leaf of a pandanus tree. When the Meienkwaad struck this time, he threw the glider into the air. The Mejenkwaad could not resist this little tidbit. At the last minute, she veered off course to snatch the little toy. Her head crashed into the ocean, sending fountains of water into the air.

Beneath the surface of the lagoon, in the crevice at Anwar, lived a giant shark. “Who is disturbing my lagoon?” thought the shark. He looked up and saw the witch’s head still in his lagoon water chewing the toy glider. He was so mad! The shark swam right up to that Mejenkwaad, opened his giant mouth, and swallowed the whole Mejenkwaad in a single bite.

Jaluit Atoll

That was the end of that Mejenkwaad. Even to this day, in the ocean near Jaluit, at Anwar, there is a deep crevice in the reef. Sharks of great size and even greater appetites live there. They swim around, waiting. Perhaps they are waiting for another tasty meal of Mejenkwaad.

Source:

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

Nancy Bo Flood, Beret E. Strong, William Flood

1991

Pages: 45-50

Maui the Fisherman

Maui the Fisherman

(A Legend from Hawaii)

Oh, the great fishhook of Maui!

Manai-i-ka-lani (made fast to the heavens) its name;

An earth-twisted cord ties the hook.

Engulfed from the lofty Kauiki,

Its bait the red-billed alae,

The bird made sacred to Hina.

It sinks far down to Hawaii,

Struggling and painfully dying.

Caught is the land under the water,

Floated up, up to the surface.

But Hina hid a wing of the bird

And broke the land under the water.

Below was the bait snatched away

And eaten at once by the fishes,

The ulua of the deep, muddy places.

One of Maui's homes was near Kauiki, a place well known throughout the Hawaiian Islands because of its strategic importance. For many years it was the site of a fort around which fierce battles were fought by the natives of the island of Maui, repelling the invasions of their neighbours from Hawaii.

Haleakala (The House of the Sun), the mountain from which Maui the demi-god snared the sun, looks down ten thousand feet upon the Kauiki headland. Across the channel from Haleakala rises Mauna Kea (The White Mountain or The Snowcapped), which almost all the year round rears its white head in majesty among the clouds.

In the snowy breakers of the surf which washes the beach below these mountains are broken coral reefs-the fishing grounds of the Hawaiians. Here near Kauiki, according to some Hawaiian legends, Maui's mother Hina had her grass house and made and dried her kappa cloth. Even to the present day, it is one of the few places in the islands where the kapa is still pounded into sheets from the bark of the hibiscus and kindred trees.

Here, is a small bay partially reef-protected, over which year after year the moist clouds float and by day and by night crown the waters with rainbows-the legendary sign of the home of the deified ones. Here when the tide is out the natives wade and swim, as they have done for centuries, from coral block to coral block, shunning the deep resting places of their dread enemy, the shark, sometimes esteemed divine. Out on the edge of the outermost reef, they seek the shellfish which cling to the coral or spear the large fish which have been left in the beautiful little lakes of the reef. Coral land is a region of the seacoast abounding in miniature lakes and rugged valleys and steep mountains. Clear waters with every motion of the tide surge in and out through the sheltered caves and submarine tunnels, according to an ancient Hawaiian song:

Never quiet, never failing, never sleeping,

Never very noisy is the sea of the sacred caves.

Sea mosses of many hues are the forests which drape the hillsides of coral land and reflect the coloured rays of light which pierce the ceaselessly moving waves. Down in the beautiful little lakes, under overhanging coral cliffs, darting in and out through the fringes of seaweed, the purple mullet and royal redfish flash before the eyes of the fisherman. Sometimes the many-tinted, glorious fish of paradise reveal their beauties, and then again a school of black and gold citizens of the reef follow the tidal waves around projecting crags and through the hidden tunnels from lake to lake, while above the fisherman follows, spearing or snaring as best he can.

Maui’s brothers were better fishermen than he. They sought the deep sea beyond the reef and larger fish. They made hooks of bone or of mother-of-pearl, with a straight, sharp-pointed piece leaning backward at a sharp angle. This was usually a consecrated bit of bone or mother-of-pearl, and was supposed to have a peculiar power to hold fast any fish which had taken the bait.

These bones were usually taken from the body of someone who while living had been noted for great power or high rank. This sharp piece was tightly tied to the larger bone or shell, which formed the shank of the hook. The sacred barb of Maui's hook was a part of the magic bone he had secured from his ancestors in the underworld-the bone with which he struck the sun whole, lassoing him and compelling him to move more slowly through the heavens.

“Earth-twisted" fibers of vine, twisted while growing, was the cord used by Maui in tying the parts of his magic hook together.

Long and strong were the fish lines made from the olona fiber, holding the great fish caught from the depths of the ocean. The fibers of the olona vine were among the longest and strongest found in the Hawaiian islands.

Such a hook could easily be cast loose by the struggling fish if the least opportunity were given. Therefore it was absolutely necessary to keep the line taut and pull strongly and steadily, to land the fish in the canoe.

Maui did not use his magic hook for a long time. He seemed to understand that it would not answer ordinary needs. Possibly the idea of making the supernatural hook did not occur to him until he had exhausted his lower wit and magic upon his brothers.

It is said that Maui was not a very good fisherman. Sometimes his end of the canoe contained fish which his brothers had thought were on their hooks until they were landed in the canoe.

Many times they laughed at him for his poor success, and he retaliated with his mischievous tricks.

E!” he would cry when one of his brothers began to pull in, while the other brothers swiftly paddled the canoe forward. ”E!" See, we both have caught a great fish at the same moment. Be careful now! Your line is loose. Look out! Look out!"

All this time he would be pulling his own line in as rapidly as possible. Onward rushed the canoe, each fisherman shouting to encourage the others. Soon the lines by the tricky manipulation of Maui would be crossed. Then, as the great fish was brought near the side of the boat, Maui, the little, the mischievous one, would slip his hook toward the head of the fish and flip it over into the canoe, causing his brother's line to slacken for a moment. Then his mournful cry rang out:”Oh, my brother, your fish is gone. Why did you not pull more steadily? It was a fine fish and now it is down deep in the waters." Then Maui held up his splendid catch (from his brother's hook) and received somewhat suspicious congratulations. But what could they do? Maui was the smart one of the family.

Their father and mother were both members of the household of the gods. The father was ”the supporter of the heavens" and the mother was ”the guardian of the way to the invisible world"; but pitifully small and very few were the gifts bestowed upon their children. Maui's brothers knew nothing beyond the average home life of the ordinary Hawaiian, and Maui alone was endowed with the power to work miracles Nevertheless, the student of Polynesian legends learns that Maui is more widely known than almost all the demi-gods of all nations as a discoverer of benefits for his fellows, and these physical rather than spiritual.

After many fishing excursions, Maui’s brothers seemed to have wit enough to understand his tricks, and thenceforth they refused to take him in their canoe when they paddled out to the deep-sea fishing grounds. Then those who depended upon Maui to supply their daily needs murmured against his poor success. His mother scolded him and his brothers ridiculed him.

The ex-Queen Liliuokalani, in a translation of what is called “the family chant," says that Maui's mother sent him to his father for a hook with which to supply his need.

Go hence to your father,

‘Tis there you find line and hook.

This is the hook, "Made Fast to the Heavens";

Manaia-ka-lani" ‘tis called.

When the hook catches land

It brings the old seas together.

Bring hither the large alae,

The bird of Hina.

When Maui had obtained his hook, he tried to go fishing with his brothers. He leaped on the end of their canoe as they pushed out into deep water. They were angry and cried out:”This boat is too small for another Maui!” They threw him off and made him swim back to the beach.

When they returned from their day's work, they brought back only a shark. Maui told them if he had been with them, better fish would have been upon their hooks-the ulua, for instance, or possibly the pimoe, the king of fish. At last, they let him go far out, outside the harbour of Kipahula to a place opposite Ka-iwi-o-Pele (The Bone of Pele), a peculiar piece of lava lying near the beach at Hana on the eastern side of the island of Maui. There they fished, but only sharks were caught. The brothers ridiculed Maui, saying: "Where are the ulua, and where is pimoe?"

Then Maui threw his magic hook into the sea, baited with one of the alae birds, sacred to his mother and Hina. He used the incantation: "When I let go my hook with divine power, then I get the great ulua."

The bottom of the sea began to move. Great waves arose, trying to carry the canoe away. The fish pulled the canoe two days, drawing the line to its fullest extent. When the slack began to come in the line, because of the tired fish, Maui called for the brothers to pull hard against the coming fish. Soon land rose out of the water. Maui told them not to look back or the fish would be lost. One brother did look back. The line slacked, snapped, and broke, and the land lay behind them in islands.

Maui evidently had no scruples against using anything which would help him carry out his schemes. He indiscriminately robbed his friends and the gods alike.

Down in the deep sea sank the hook with its struggling bait, until it was seized by ”the land under the water.” But Hina the mother saw the struggle of her sacred bird and hastened to the rescue. She caught a wing of the bird, but could not pull the alae from the sacred hook. The wing was torn off. Then the fish gathered around the bait and tore it in pieces. If the bait could have been kept entire, then the land would have come up in a continent rather than as an island. Then the Hawaiian group would have been unbroken. But the bait broke-and the islands came as fragments from the underworld.

Hawaiian islands

Source:

Myths and Legends of Hawaii

W.D.Westervelt

1987

Pages 3 - 8

Why People Have to Die

Why People Have to Die

(A Legend from Vanuatu)

Once there was a young boy who loved his grandmother very much. He was so small she often held his hand as they walked. Every day they walked under the leafy forest canopy to the bathing pool. There, the river was wide and slow. On the day that changed human lives forever, the birds were singing. "treee-kik, treee-kik.” It was spring, and purple trumpet-flowers lifted their open faces to the sun. No one knew that death was coming.

Vanuatu

The grandmother spread her best woven mat on the ground. She sat the child on it. “Stay here while I bathe," she said. “The river is cool, clear, and deep. Don‘t go in the water. Just wait for me."

Then she did a shocking thing. She crawled out from inside her old skin. It was full of wrinkles and hung limply around her knees and elbows. Even her cheeks sagged, like overripe fruit. The grandmother dropped her old skin on the ground as if she were throwing away the empty husk of a coconut. “I'll be back soon," she said to her little grandson. Then she slipped into the cool, fresh water.

Sunlight sparkled on the lazy water. Her grandson watched her splash. Soon she was clean, and she came back to him. “You see.” she said. “I wasn’t gone long, was I?"

He didn’t answer. He stared at her with terrified eyes.

Let’s go. I'll take you home to your brothers now." The boy stared and stared. His lip began to tremble. He had never seen his grandmother without her skin. He didn't recognize this young woman. Her skin was young and tight, like his own. Her face was rosy and smooth. She was pretty, but he didn’t want to go with her. Not this stranger. When she reached out her hand for his, he shrank down against the ground.

“What?" she said. “Are you afraid of me, my little one? I'm your grandmother. Do you think you don’t know me? Remember how we picked berries in the woods? How you found the ants inside that rotting log? How we sang the starling's song?"

The little boy was too scared to speak. He wanted only one thing: for his own grandmother to come back. He didn’t like this strange woman at all.

His grandmother sat down next to him. Her head hung down in sorrow. How much she wanted to be young and beautiful again! But she knew now that it couldn't be. She sighed a long, deep sigh. Gently, she picked up her old, wrinkled skin and dusted it off. Slowly, she put it on again. Her face sagged. Her brow was lined with age and worry. Her young, quick feet became flat and still to walk on. Even her belly swelled out in front of her.

The old woman sighed. “For love of the children, so it must be."

Source:

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

Nancy Bo Flood, Beret E. Strong, William Flood

1991

Pages: 125-126

The Creation of Palau

The Creation of Palau

(A Legend from Palau)

In the long ago, before the time of people, the sea was empty. Empty. Spirits under the sea and spirits above the sea were lonely. They longed to share life.

Ucheleanged, the greatest of gods, felt their longing. “Now! The world is ready. Now!" Uchcleanged travelled across the ocean. “Here!" The great god pointed to the darkest part of the sea. From deep within this black unknown, a volcano erupted. Higher and higher the volcano rose, spewing out molten rock. Slowly it broke through the sea's surface, raining hot lava and forming a mountain. This mountain grew wider and taller until the mountain became an island. Although this mountain was bare, it was not barren.

On this mountain's peak, a strange event happened. The power of the sea touched the power of the sky. Afterwards, at that very place, sat a giant clam. The clam just sat. Its huge rippled jaws remained shut. Not moving. Not speaking. But growing.

Day after day, the clam continued to grow. Its shell spread long and far. Its sweet, soft middle bulged bigger and bigger, pregnant with life. But the clam could not give birth.

The sea spirits whispered their worries. They sent huge waves across the ocean, whipping them higher and higher. The great Clam rocked as the island trembled. Still, the birthing did not happen. The spirits screamed out their alarm, sending the sea crashing against the clam. The clam’s giant jaws still did not open.

The most powerful of the gods, Ucheleanged, pointed at the darkness beneath the sea. Winds swirled. Waves peaked, curled, and plummeted. Thunder roared. Typhoon winds smashed against the giant clam. Still, the birthing did not begin.

Ucheleanged again pointed to the darkness deep beneath the ocean. An enormous current coiled like a giant serpent. Faster and faster it coiled, gathering power to prepare for a mighty strike. Ucheleanged roared! A monstrous stream of water rolled up from the sea and then across the land. A wall of ocean crashed against the clam. The mother clam, Latmikaik, shuddered. And then her giant lips began to open.

The power in the water now tore again through the clam’s body. Her shell split fully apart. Her mouth now gaped open. All forms of life spewed out-out into the waters and onto the land. Terns and swifts flew up toward the heavens. They called to the others. “Come. Come out. Be born."

The rest followed. The ghost crabs hurried into dark shadows. Snakes and sea eels slithered to dry holes and wet. Fruit bats stretched black wings as they hung upside down on branches, warming themselves in the sunlight. Crocodiles snapped at slow-moving lobsters. Dugongs nudged shy babes toward quiet lagoon waters. Sharks dashed into deep sea caves. Clouds of colour divided into two groups of animals. Birds and butterflies flew upward. Reef fish and creatures of the tide pools crawled back to the sea. The ocean laughed with life. The earth fluttered with colour. But the clam mother, Latmikaik, was not finished.

This ancient sea goddess, clam mother, shuddered. Once again her jaws opened. One more animal, a human child, crawled out. This giant baby was perhaps female (Chuab) or perhaps male (Uab). The tale is told both ways. But always the story tells how this selfish child brought both disaster and creation to Angaur, the world's first island.

Angaur

This child's appetite was monstrous. Ravenously, the child ate and ate. The child cared about nothing else but eating. "More, more, more! Bring more food. Hurry! More, more, more."

The child quickly grew into a towering giant. As the giant grew, its appetite increased. Soon there was nothing left to eat. Nothing for the giant. Nothing for the people. Every breadfruit and coconut had been devoured. The sea waters were empty. Even the smallest reef fish had been netted and swallowed.

But the giant demanded. "Bring food! If you have nothing else, bring me your children. I am hungry. I must eat!”

At first, the people of Angaur whimpered in fear. But then as their children began disappearing one after another, they whispered. “The lagoon is empty. The jungle has no banana nor breadfruit. Every coconut is gone. We must save our children."

The people waited until the giant was sleeping. Quickly they stacked coconut stalks around the slumbering body and then lit the wood.

The giant woke confused and in pain. He jumped to his feet, but already the burning flames formed a blazing wall that allowed no escape, He stared at the people. For the first time, he saw their fear and anguish. For the first time, he understood how cruel and selfish he had been.

“It is right that I die! I have taken with thoughtless greed. Now I must give back." The giant spoke no more. His enormous body trembled. Slowly he toppled down, down, down. Flesh and bones shattered into hundreds of pieces, flying in all directions. Each piece became new land.

The giant’s flesh and bones became the many islands of Palau. Each place kept the characteristics of the part of the body from which it had come.

Map of Palau

Airai was formed from the bead. People from Airai are known for their wit and wisdom.

Ngaraard is where the stomach landed. Here the people are famous for their good cooking and great appetites.

Aimeliik is a part of the big island of Babeldaub, where the land is wet and moist. It rains every day. Aimeliik is where the giant’s penis (or the vagina of the giantess) landed. Water regularly flows at Aimeliik.

You might wonder about the people of Angaur. After the fire had burned to ashes, the people searched through the coals. There they found a part of the body. The giant's feet had stayed on Angaur. The brave people of Angaur to this day are known for their swiftness-and their courage!

Source:

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

Nancy Bo Flood, Beret E. Strong, William Flood

1991

                                                               Pages: 28 - 32

The Ant and the Cicada

The Ant and the Cicada

                 (A Tale from New Zealand)                

In the summer the New Zealand forest quivers with the song of Kikihi the Cicada. The air trembles with sound, the sun shines through the leaves as the warm wind gently stirs the foliage, and winter seems far away. That is the burden of the song of Kikihi. “The winter is past and summer is here. Let us sing our song on the warm bark of the trees and be glad, for cold and darkness have gone away forever.”

But there is another song that few have heard because they are deafened by Kikihi. It is a little song, sung by those who are working through the summer days, near the ground, close to the warm earth. It is the song of Papakorua the Ant. “Winter is coming,” he sings, as he scurries around, collecting food and storing it away. “We need food to keep us alive in the cold days of winter. Let us work to live.”

The days pass and winter comes. The leaves that danced in the sunshine shiver in the cold wind and icy rain flows over them down to the sodden earth.

Then Kikihi, who was warm and happy and carefree in the summertime, grows thin and cold and in the end, he dies, clinging to the unfriendly bark. But Popokorua is warm and snug in his home, well-fed, and looking forward once more to the coming of summer.

Source:

Myths and Legends of Maoriland

A.W.Reed

1947

Page: 207