How the Fijian Ate the Sacred Cat

In the morning the high priest went into the temple to speak with the god, and to inquire why he was thus angry with his people, while the townsfolk were gathered together, sad and silent, in the public square, waiting to hear the words of Alo-alo, the god of the men of Haapai. Not long did they wait, for the priest came running out of the temple, and sat down in their midst, trembling exceedingly; and there was a great silence and fear, because all the people saw that something wonderful had happened.

“Hear my words,” said he at last in a low voice. “Hear my words, ye men of Haapai, great is the thing that has come to pass to-day; for with these eyes have I looked upon Alo-alo. See! Look! Behold he comes!” And from the doorway there stepped forth a cat, which seated itself on the top of the mound whereon the temple stood, and looked solemnly down upon the people. It had, doubtless, come ashore from the vessel; but our fathers then, for the first time, looked upon a cat, and they feared greatly, for they thought it had come down from heaven. Great were the honours which they paid it; many the feasts that were made ready for it; and a useful animal was it indeed to the priest, who, you may be sure, took his full share of the food provided for it, so that both he and the cat grew sleek and fat together.

Then it fell out that one of our canoes came back from a voyage to Fiji, bringing many of our countrymen, who had been helping the men of Lakemba in their wars; and with them came a Fijian, whose name was Dau-lawaki, the Great Rogue, a man strong of soul, fearing nothing, believing nothing, and caring for no one but himself.

And when he saw the cat his stomach craved for it; and day and night he could think of nothing else than how he could secure it for his food; but he feared to steal it because of the people, who honoured it even as a god; nor could he think of any plan for getting that which his soul desired.

At length, one night when the townsfolk were all asleep in their houses, a great shout was heard in the temple, and the people rushed together into the public square, crying out, “What is this? What does the shouting mean?”

But the priest said, “Stand still, ye men of Haapai, and listen; for it may be that the god is about to speak.”

So they stood in silence, and from the midst of the temple there sounded forth a solemn voice. Three times was the voice heard, and then all was quiet; and these were the words that were spoken: —

“Deliver the cat to the Fijian for the eating thereof.”

Then our fathers went back in great awe to their houses; but the chiefs assembled together and took counsel with the priest. So in the morning the drum was beaten, whereupon all the townsfolk came together in the public square, with the chiefs and the old men and the priest in their midst, while the cat was brought forth, bound, and laid at their feet. Then rose the high priest and called the Rogue. “Come forward,” said he; and the Great Rogue came forward and sat down in the midst of the public square, while the priest spoke on: —

“We have taken counsel together during the night as to this great thing, this wonderful thing which has happened. We cannot understand it. Alo-alo has spoken to us, his people. But why should he have spoken in a foreign tongue? We are men of Tonga, and he is a Tongan god; why then should he have spoken to us with the tongue of a Fijian? Is it perhaps that, being angry with us, his people, he is about to leave us? What have we done? wherein have we offended? My soul is small, ye people of Haapai. Our god perhaps is hungry. He is a great chief, having many followers; and the food we have given him has not been enough for him and for his household. Therefore bestir yourselves, and make ready for him a great feast, that he may have compassion upon us, and not leave us to perish; for you know that it is he who gives us the rain, and the sun, and causes the fruits of the earth to grow. Let his feasts be greater from this day henceforward: then will he stay in Haapai, and it shall be well with us. But one thing is plain to us — that we must obey his voice to-day. Rise therefore, Dau-lawaki, kill the cat of Alo-alo, and bake it in the oven, that you may eat it, according to his word, which was spoken three times to us during the night.” And the priest sat down again amongst the chiefs.

Then spake the Rogue, trembling like one in great fear: “Spare me, ye chiefs, spare me! Let me not kill the sacred cat, lest some great evil befall me.”

But the chiefs looked angrily upon him. “Who are you,” cried they, “that you should dare question the command of the god? Eat or die!”

“Life is sweet,” said the Rogue. “Give me a knife, and let some of the young men heat an oven.”

So he killed the holy cat, and cooked and ate it, leaving nothing but the skull and the bones, which the Haapai men buried with great pomp in the midst of the temple. And, after this, he begged the chiefs to send him back to his own land: “For,” said he, “I am afraid of the Tongan gods. Have I not eaten their sacred cat?”

Then the chiefs ordered a large double canoe to be made ready for him, and therein he sailed back to Lakemba, whence he came. Three nights they went sailing over the waters, and on the fourth morning the land was seen, whereat they rejoiced exceedingly, inasmuch as they sailed in great fear lest the anger of Alo-alo should follow them because of the Rogue.

A prudent man was the Rogue, and not a word did he say about the cat till he landed safe at Lakemba; and then he told all his people how he had cheated the Haapai men, hiding himself in the temple at night, and shouting forth the words which they thought the god had spoken. “And truly,” said he, “I was afraid that they would find me out; for I spoke in Fijian, not knowing their tongue; but they are without souls, those men of Haapai!” And he went on to tell them how he had feigned to be terribly frightened when they ordered him to eat the cat; and how they threatened to kill him unless he hearkened to their words; till all the people roared with laughter, and said, “True now are the words of the Rogue. Men without souls are the men of Haapai!”

Great also was the shame and vexation of the Tongans who had brought him back to Lakemba; for the children were always shouting after them, “Give the cat to the Fijian for the eating thereof!” And they sailed back to their land in a great rage. But Dau-lawaki took care never to show his face again in Haapai.

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