How Children Became Monkeys

A mother took her children to dye cloth near a mud hole, where she used leaves and shell spoons in her process. When hot water splashed and burned her hand, her children’s laughter magically transformed them into monkeys, with their tails forming from the spoons. Their nails remain black, a reminder of their role in helping dye the cloth.

Source
Philippine Folk Tales
compiled and annotated by
Mabel Cook Cole
A.C. McClurg & Co., Chicago, 1916


► Themes of the story

Transformation: The children undergo a physical change into monkeys as a consequence of their actions.

Cultural Heroes: The mother serves as a central figure whose experience conveys cultural values and teachings.

Origin of Things: The tale provides an explanation for why monkeys have black nails, linking it to the children’s involvement in dyeing cloth.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about Philippines peoples


One day a mother took her two children with her when she went to color cloth. Not far from her home was a mud hole where the carabao liked to wallow, and to this hole she carried her cloth, some dye pots, and two shell spoons.

After she had put the cloth into the mud to let it take up the dark color, she built a fire and put over it a pot containing water and the leaves used for dyeing.

Then she sat down to wait for the water to boil, while the children played near by.

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By and by when she went to stir the leaves with a shell spoon, some of the water splashed up and burned her hand, so that she jumped and cried out. This amused the children and their laughter changed them into monkeys, and the spoons became their tails.

The nails of the monkeys are still black, because while they were children they had helped their mother dye the cloth.


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Tilin, the Rice Bird

A little girl, eager to eat raw rice, is refused by her mother, who insists it must be cooked. While the mother fetches water, the girl sneaks a handful but accidentally falls into the rice basket. Upon returning, the mother finds a small bird calling, “Goodbye, Mother,” as it flies away—symbolizing the girl’s transformation into a rice bird for her disobedience.

Source
Philippine Folk Tales
compiled and annotated by
Mabel Cook Cole
A.C. McClurg & Co., Chicago, 1916


► Themes of the story

Transformation: The girl’s metamorphosis into a rice bird highlights the theme of physical change as a consequence of her actions.

Family Dynamics: The interaction between the mother and daughter emphasizes familial relationships and the significance of adhering to parental advice.

Cultural Heroes: While not a hero in the traditional sense, the girl’s story serves as a cultural lesson, embodying values and warnings pertinent to the community.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about Philippines peoples


One day when a mother was pounding out rice to cook for supper, her little girl ran up to her and cried: “Oh, Mother, give me some of the raw rice to eat.” – “No,” said the mother, “it is not good for you to eat until it is cooked. Wait for supper.” But the little girl persisted until the mother, out of patience, cried: “Be still. It is not good for you to talk so much!” When she had finished pounding the rice, the woman poured it into a rice winnower and tossed it many times into the air. As soon as the chaff was removed she emptied the rice into her basket and covered it with the winnower. Then she took the jar upon her head, and started for the spring to get water.

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Now the little girl was fond of going to the spring with her mother, for she loved to play in the cool water while her mother filled the jars. But this time she did not go, and as soon as the woman was out of sight, she ran to the basket of rice. She reached down to take a handful of the grain. The cover slipped so that she fell, and was covered up in the basket.

When the mother returned to the house, she heard a bird crying, “King, king, nik! nik! nik!” She listened carefully, and as the sound seemed to come from the basket, she removed the cover. To her surprise, out hopped a little brown rice bird, and as it flew away it kept calling back:

“Goodbye, Mother; goodbye, Mother. You would not give me any rice to eat.”


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The Creation

In the beginning, Lumawig, the Great Spirit, created humanity by transforming reeds into couples with unique languages. He taught them to marry, leading to the growth of diverse populations. Lumawig provided essential resources like salt and pottery, designating their guardians based on obedience and skill. By distributing tasks and knowledge, he ensured the people thrived and learned to cooperate through trade and craftsmanship.

Source
Philippine Folk Tales
compiled and annotated by
Mabel Cook Cole
A.C. McClurg & Co., Chicago, 1916


► Themes of the story

Creation: The tale explains the origin of humanity and various cultural practices.

Origin of Things: It describes the beginnings of essential resources like salt and pottery.

Cultural Heroes: Lumawig acts as a foundational figure shaping society by teaching essential skills and assigning roles.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about Philippines peoples


In the beginning there were no people on the earth. Lumawig, the Great Spirit, came down from the sky and cut many reeds. He divided these into pairs which he placed in different parts of the world, and then he said to them, “You must speak.” Immediately the reeds became people, and in each place was a man and a woman who could talk, but the language of each couple differed from that of the others. Then Lumawig commanded each man and woman to marry, which they did. By and by there were many children, all speaking the same language as their parents. These, in turn, married and had many children. In this way there came to be many people on the earth.

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Now Lumawig saw that there were several things which the people on the earth needed to use, so he set to work to supply them. He created salt, and told the inhabitants of one place to boil it down and sell it to their neighbors. But these people could not understand the directions of the Great Spirit, and the next time he visited them, they had not touched the salt.

Then he took it away from them and gave it to the people of a place called Mayinit. These did as he directed, and because of this he told them that they should always be owners of the salt, and that the other peoples must buy of them.

Then Lumawig went to the people of Bontoc and told them to get clay and make pots. They got the clay, but they did not understand the moulding, and the jars were not well shaped. Because of their failure, Lumawig told them that they would always have to buy their jars, and he removed the pottery to Samoki. When he told the people there what to do, they did just as he said, and their jars were well shaped and beautiful. Then the Great Spirit saw that they were fit owners of the pottery, and he told them that they should always make many jars to sell.

In this way Lumawig taught the people and brought to them all the things which they now have.


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The Striped Blanket

A Tinguian hunting tale warns against using red-and-yellow striped blankets resembling a wild pig’s back. While camping, one man overheard spirits mistaking him for prey due to his blanket. He swapped it with a companion’s, leading to the other’s death. Since then, Tinguian avoid such blankets in spirit-haunted areas, underscoring caution and the perils of deception in folklore.

Source
Philippine Folk Tales
compiled and annotated by
Mabel Cook Cole
A.C. McClurg & Co., Chicago, 1916


► Themes of the story

Cunning and Deception: The protagonist’s deceitful act of exchanging blankets to save himself results in his companion’s death.

Supernatural Beings: The presence of spirits who mistake the blanket for a wild pig highlights interactions with supernatural entities.

Cultural Heroes: The story reflects the cultural beliefs and practices of the Tinguian people, emphasizing the importance of cultural awareness and traditions.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about Philippines peoples


Three Tinguian once went to the mountains to hunt deer. They took their blankets with them, for they expected to be gone several days, and the nights in the mountains are cold. The blankets of two of the men were of the blue-and-white designs such as are commonly worn by the Tinguian, but that of the third was covered with red and yellow stripes like the back of a little wild pig. At night the men rolled up in their blankets and lay down under a tree to sleep; but while the one in the striped blanket was still awake two spirits came near and saw him. “Oh,” he heard one spirit say to the other, “here we have something to eat, for here is a little wild pig.”

► Continue reading…

Then the man quickly took the blanket off one of his sleeping companions and put his own in its place. Very soon the spirits came and ate the man under the striped blanket.

Since that time the Tinguian never sleep under that kind of a blanket if they are where the spirits can get them.


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Yarty-Gulok

This tale recounts the adventures of Yarty-gulok, a clever boy no bigger than half a camel’s ear. Born from a camel’s ear, he brings joy to his adoptive parents and aids a young man in love by outsmarting a greedy moneylender. Through wit and courage, Yarty removes the village’s troubles and ensures justice, concluding with a joyous wedding celebration for the young couple.

Source
Folk Tales from the Soviet Union
Central Asia & Kazakhstan
compiled by R. Babloyan and M. Shumskaya
Raduga Publishers, Moscow, 1986


► Themes of the story

Cunning and Deception: Yarty-Gulok employs his wit to outsmart the greedy moneylender, showcasing cleverness in overcoming adversaries.

Moral Lessons: The narrative imparts values of justice and the triumph of cleverness over greed, teaching ethical lessons through Yarty-Gulok’s actions.

Cultural Heroes: Yarty-Gulok emerges as a foundational figure who alleviates his village’s troubles, embodying the qualities of a cultural hero in Turkmen lore.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Turkmen people


Retold by Anna Alexandrova
and Mikhail Tuberovsky
Translated by Olga Shartse

Maybe this really did happen, or maybe it did not, but the story goes that an old man was riding across the sands, white-hot from the sun. He was riding a donkey and leading a camel. The old man had been working at the flour mill since before daybreak, and was very tired. The camel had the heavy bags to carry and felt tired too. As for the donkey, he felt tired because he had the old man sitting on his back. The old man was riding along and singing a song. He sang of whatever was uppermost in his mind:

Now, if I had a son,
If only a wee little boy,
With a face like a poppy,
A nature like the smiling sun,
And like a bee industrious,
I’d be a happy man…

► Continue reading…

Suddenly he heard someone calling him:

“Hey, ata-djan, dear father! If you have no son, take me!”

Astonished, the old man stopped and peered at the ground around him, but all he saw were the ordinary dry prickly clumps.

Again he heard the same voice:

“If you want to see the eagle don’t look at the ground!’

The old man then gazed into the sky, but there was nothing there to see.

“Hey, ata-djan, does anyone look for a snow leopard in the clouds?”

The old man cried:

“Stop hiding! Come out imw the open this minute

He could not wait to see his long-awaited son. And suddenly there he was, peeping out of the camel’s ear! The tiny little boy said in a thin little voice:

“I’m here! Can’t you see me? Do please help me out of this narrow opening.”

The old man took the boy out of the camel’s ear and sat him on the palm of his hand. My, what a wee little boy he was! Like all Turkmenian boys he had his head shaved. in front, and the back hair been plaited into two tight little braids that stuck out behind his ears.

“What’s your name?” the old man asked. “I swear you’re no bigger than half a camel’s ear!”

The boy glanced at him and laughed:

“That’s a name for me! I like it.”

And the old man called him Yarty-gulok which means “half an ear”.

Yarty-gulok jumped to his feet and yelled like a proper driver at the sleepy donkey:

“Io, io, get a move on! Take us home quickly before my mother’s pilau gets overdone!”

The donkey shook his ears, and started homeward.

In the meantime I’ll tell you about the old woman.

She was sitting on a white felt in the middle of her yard weaving a carpet. As she tied the wool into little knots she brooded on her sorrow. And when a person has some sorrow to brood on he either weeps or sings. And the old woman sang:

Now, if I had a son,
If only a wee little boy,
I’d weave a carpet for him,
In red, the colour of carnations,
In yellow, like the setting sun,
In dark blue, like the sky at night…

She glanced out at the road and saw her old man galloping on his donkey straight for their house, with the old camel running behind, hardly able to keep up.

“Hey, mother!” the old man shouted. “Happiness comes both to the young and the old! Fate has smiled upon us and sent us a small son.”

Yarty was sitting between the camel’s ears and looking curiously at his parents.

The old woman cradled the wee boy in her warm hands and whispered endearments to him, calling him her darling little apple, or a baby camel.

Later that evening, she called on all her neighbour women and asked them to come and help her cook a feast. The best of everything was served: a huge pot of pilau, a mountain of rich flat cakes, and a wooden platter full of currants and slices of sweet musk melons.

The women stayed far into the night, singing songs to the accompaniment of a dutar. They sewed as they sang, and made three tiny coats for Yarty-gulok, a fur cap and a pair of leather hose. They dressed up the boy, made him turn round this way and that to see how he looked, clapped their hands in delight and laughed.

“Now he’s a proper djigit!”

Yarty-gulok bowed to his parents and said:

“Thank you for your kindness. Now it’s my turn to help you and people here.”

That’s what he said. Now let’s see what he did.

* * *

One day he was walking home from the neighbouring village. It was a long road for someone so small, and he was very tired.

A horse was nibbling the dry grass on the edge of the road, and its rider—a young, handsome djigit—stood beside it, pulling straight the saddle on its back. Yarty- gulok said to himself: “It can’t be much fun riding all alone, can it? And two can ride that horse just as well as one.

He ran to the horse, caught its tail and climbed up to sit on its back. The djigit did not see him. He leapt into the saddle, gave the reins a tug and the horse its head. My, how he flew! Yarty, sitting behind the djigit, all but jumped for joy. “I’ll be home soon, spooning porridge too!” thought the hungry boy, and suddenly it struck him that his rider was making straight for the desert and had not taken the road leading to the village.

“Hey, hey,” shouted Yarty. “Are you crazy? Where are you going? You’ll lose your way in the sands and perish, and I’ll perish with you!”

“Who’s that squeaking behind me?” said the startled djigit, and reined in the horse at full gallop. Turning round, he saw Yarty-gulok.

“Yes, it’s I, Yarty,” the little boy told him. “But why are you heading for the desert? Instead of galloping senselessly about the sands, you’d much better take me home.”

“No, Yarty, I can’t do that,” the djigit replied sadly. “I’ve sworn an oath not to see anyone before I’ve carried my trouble away into the desert.”

“How big is your trouble?” asked Yarty.

“It’s so big that I can’t find enough words to describe it,” replied the djigit.

“Look, if you’re in trouble you must shout, and not keep quiet about it, because just supposing I can help you?”

“Oh no, no one can help me,” the djigit said. “I love Gul-Asal better than I love life, but I’m poor, and her master is the richest man in the village. He’s mean and hard, he’ll never let his servant go, and will never consent to our marriage.” All at once, the djigit flared up: “Get off my horse this minute, and be on your way. And leave me alone with my trouble.”

But Yarty did not so much as stir. He merely shook his head and said:

“My, you’re such a big man, but where’s your big heart? You worry only about your own trouble, but don’t your good neighbours have any troubles at all?”

“In our village there’s trouble enough for everyone,” replied the djigit.

“Then collect all their troubles from everyone!” cried Yarty. “Load those troubles on to seven camels and take them so far away that they’ll never find their way back to the village.”

“Id gladly do that, but I haven’t the strength.”

“Who, you?” Yarty gave a peel of laughter. ‘Why, your chest is as broad as a snow leopard’s, and your hands are stronger than iron!”

At this, the djigit quite lost his temper.

“Get off my horse at once, and don’t teach others if you can’t do anything yourself!”

“Can’t I? Just watch me. Turn the horse round, and ride back to the village. We’ll collect all the troubles there are.”

They rode back to the village. Yarty had never seen such a poverty-stricken village.

They stopped at the first gate they came to. A very, very old woman, her back bent from her burden of years and troubles, told them:

“Great is my trouble, and it comes from behind that tall white-washed wall.”

A small boy came out from another yard. He looked about him to make sure that no one was listening, and whispered:

“My father says that all our troubles come from there,” and he pointed at the same white-washed wall.

Men were shouting and women were weeping in the next yard.

“Someone must have fallen ill or died in this house,” Yarty said anxiously.

“No,” replied the djigit. “Can’t you see that men are carrying everything out of that poor house and taking it to the same place behind that tall white-washed wall?”

“But who lives there? A ferocious tiger or a terrible dragon?” asked the bewildered boy.

“The man who lives there is fiercer than a tiger and more merciless than a dragon,” the djigit told Yarty. “His name is Kara-Bek, he is a money lender. Like a greedy spider he has spun his web round all the villagers and is sucking their blood. He ruins everyone! He has ruined my life too. Because my love, Gul-Asal, is his servant girl!”

“Then let’s go quickly to that shaitan!” cried Yarty. “My hands are itching to get even with him!”

“Kara-Bek won’t let us in,” the djigit said. “Can’t you see how securely his gates are locked, and how sharp those thongs stuck into the wall? His servants and savage dogs watch the house day and night. Not even a bird could fly in, not even a weasel could sneak in. So what chance does a man have?”

Yarty was not put out in the least.

“And my father told me time and again that a man who runs away from a fight might as well be dead and buried,” he said. “Let’s not be cowards, let’s ride quickly to that greedy miser!”

Early every morning Kara-Bek went down to his cellars where chests packed with gold stood in rows. He would light an oil lamp and count over his gold coins. Nothing gladdened the old miser so much—not the singing of birds, not the babbling of brooks, not the brilliant sunlight on a day in spring. Nothing touched his hard heart—neither tears, nor pleas. All he worried about from morning to night was how to get more money and fill more chests with gold.

On this particular day, he filled his hundredth bag with gold coins, placed it in his hundredth chest, and locked it with seven locks. In that dead silence a faint rustling startled him: he turned round and saw a tiny mouse peeping out of a hole.

“Hey, you,” the mouse piped in a small squeak. “Don’t bother to lock up your coins any more. Your wealth has become worthless since that golden rainfall in the desert.”

Angrily, the old miser hurled his slipper at the mouse, who vanished at once.

And now a spider climbed down from the ceiling on a long thread he had spun, and twitching his legs, whispered:

“You shouldn’t have hurt that small mouse. He told you the truth. Now that a gold rain has fallen in the sands, everyone can go to the Kara-Kum desert and shovel gold coins into his bag.”

“It’s a lie, you’re both lying!” wheezed the old miser. “No one can ever collect more gold coins than I have in these chests here!”

“Ha-ha-ha!” snickered a large black cockroach, as he crawled about the wall. “The poorest beggar in the village will soon have more gold than you, Kara-Bek!”

“You want to drive me out of my mind!” moaned the miser.

“Not at all,” squeaked the small mouse again, poking his head out of the hole. “We simply wanted to warn you for old friendship’s sake. Don’t waste time. Ride quickly to the desert and fill your bags with gold before others can get there.”

“Do that,” whispered the spider. “Fill your bags with gold coins, take them to lands far away and sell them there for three times the cost.”

“You’ll be the richest man here, the richest man again,” snickered the cockroach.

“Oh my, oh my, who’s going to take me to the desert?” wailed the old miser. “I was so thrifty all my life that I kept neither a camel, nor a horse, nor a donkey to ride!”

“Then it’s too bad, too bad for you,” squeaked the small mouse. “Then you’ll never get to the desert.”

“And you’ll miss all that gold!” whispered the spider.

“The poor beggars will rake in all those gold coins and leave nothing for you,” snickered the cockroach.

“Oh no, they won’t!” roared the old miser. “I’ll get there first, and all the gold will be mine!”

He rushed out of the house and was about to call his servants when he thought better of it. If his servants found out about the gold rain, they’d reach the desert first and collect the coins before he got there.

And so, he stole outside very cautiously, and to his great joy saw a man on horseback, a local young man.

“Hello, my young friend, I know you,” the miser said to the djigit. “You owe me a hundred tengas, but I’ll reduce your debt to half if you take me to the desert.”

“No one will take you there today even for a thousand copper tengas,” answered the young djigit.

“I’l pay two thousand!”

“I wouldn’t take you there even for five thousand,” the djigit said. “Give me Gul-Asal in marriage, and then I’ll take you.”

“Take Gul-Asal, take everything, only get me to the desert right away!”

“Alright. Climb on,” the djigit said, laughing.

The old miser clambered on to the horse behind the djigit, and off they rode to the desert.

They rode on and on, the whole of that day, until the sun began to set in the sands of the Kara-Kum desert.

The dyjigit reined in the horse, and ordered the miser sharply to get off.

Kara-Bek looked about him, but there was nothing to see, only the lifeless sands. There was no beginning and no end to these sands running in waves to the very horizon. And there was not the smallest glimmer of gold in that boundless desert.

“Where have you brought me, you cheat?” screamed Kara- Bek.

“Why, you said the Kara-Kum desert, didn’t you?” to his astonishment Kara-Bek heard the voice of the small mouse.

“But where are the gold coins?” he roared.

“Dig in the sand and you’ll find them,” replied the voice of the spider.

“You’ve cheated me!” wailed the old money lender.

“What about you? Didn’t you cheat your good neighbours?” snickered the cockroach.

Kara-Bek swung round and saw a tiny little boy, the size of half a camel’s ear, sitting on the djigit’s shoulder, and speaking in these different voices, as he had done in the: money cellar. He was laughing now and shaking a finger at Kara-Bek. In fright, Kara-Bek backed away and fell off the horse on to the sand.

“Well, that’s that,” Yarty announced to the djigit. “We’ve taken people’s troubles away into the desert to be stranded here, and now let’s hurry back to the village.”

“Wait, wait, take me with you!” screamed Kara-Bek.

“Not on your life!” Yarty shouted. “Can you see anyone getting rid of his troubles and then taking them back? You’ll have to make your own way home, you wicked man!”

The djigit gave a whoop, and his horse took off, raising clouds of sand.

Kara-Bek stood there, gaping, for a long time. Then he dug in the sand in one place, then in another, and not a coin did he find, of course. He turned homeward on dragging feet. He trudged the whole day, then another day, and on the third day a black sandstorm started up in the desert. And the old money lender was buried under, and with him the villagers’ troubles. All the neighbours came to the wedding of the beautiful Gul-Asal and the handsome young djigit. When friends gather together of an evening they love recalling the story of the gold rain in the desert and how the clever, wee Yarty-gulok got the better of the wicked money lender.


Running and expanding this site requires resources: from maintaining our digital platform to sourcing and curating new content. With your help, we can grow our collection, improve accessibility, and bring these incredible narratives to an even wider audience. Your sponsorship enables us to keep the world’s stories alive and thriving. ♦ Visit our Support page

What the Tongans Say about Napoleon

The people of Tonga are proclaimed as the root of greatness, giving rise to legendary warriors. The tale recounts Napoleoni, born of a Tongan father and an American mother, rising miraculously to lead the French (Faranise) against their enemy, Uelingtoni. Despite his miraculous birth and deeds, others claim him, but the truth, as told by Vave of Kolonga, celebrates Tonga’s undeniable greatness.

Source
Tales from Old Fiji
by Lorimer Fison
Printed by Ballantyne, Hanson & Co.
at the Ballantyne Press
by Alexander Moring Ltd
London, 1904


► Themes of the story

Cultural Heroes: Napoleoni is depicted as a descendant of Tongan lineage, embodying the valor and greatness attributed to Tongan warriors.

Quest: The French emissaries embark on a journey to America, seeking the prophesied leader to aid them against their adversary, Uelingtoni.

Prophecy and Fate: The narrative centers around a prophecy that dictates the destiny of Napoleoni and the French nation, emphasizing the role of fate in their lives.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Fijians


as told by a Tongan

There is no people on the face of the earth so great and noble as are we, the people of Tonga. Other nations may be more numerous and richer, and perhaps even stronger than we; but with us is the root of greatness, and with us alone. From our stock has sprung the race of warriors — men whose names are known — some whose mighty deeds have been done among our own people, and others who have lived and fought among foreign nations. Thus, Napoleoni was a son of Tonga; for his mother came to us in a ship from the land of Merikei (America), which stayed with us for many days hunting whales. She was a young woman, tall and fair; and after a while, she sailed again to her own land, where she brought forth a child, though no man had her to wife, and this child she called Napoleoni.

► Continue reading…

Now, after many days, when he was grown, the men of Faranise (France) sent ambassadors to Merikei, begging for help against Uelingtoni, who had beaten them in many battles, killing their king, and all the sons of the chiefs. For the high-priest had told them that there they would find the child of a red father who would lead them against their enemies, and before whose face no man should be able to stand. So they came sailing over the waters to Merikei in search of him who should lead them to victory; and a weary search they had, for the people mocked them as they went from town to town asking for the son of a red father. The boys also followed them, crying aloud, “We are the sons of red fathers. Take us, that we may gain you the victory.” In one town, the name of which we have not been told, the young men deceived them shamefully, promising to lead them to the deliverer of their people. And their souls rejoiced.

“Good is our coming,” they said to one another. “Good is our coming, for here our troubles end. Woe now to Uelingtoni!”

“True!” said the young men; “your troubles are over, and woe to Uelingtoni. But come now, why do we linger here?” And, leading them through the gateway in the war-fence at the back of the town, and across the moat, they took them to a house in the forest where a farmer lived — for you must know that in Merikei the husbandmen are not permitted to dwell within the town — and there they showed the men of Faranise a calf! “Here now,” they said, “is he whom you seek, for his father is red.”

The men of Faranise turned, and went sorrowfully on their way, while the mocking laughter of the cruel youths sounded in their ears. But towards evening they came to a little house, standing by itself in the midst of the wood; and in this house dwelt the mother of Napoleoni.

“Let us ask here also,” said the chief man among them. “It may be that we shall yet find him; for surely the high-priest could not have lied to us, and his words were that we should find our deliverer in this land. Therefore let us ask here also.”

So they made their inquiry; and the mother of Napoleoni cried aloud in wonder when she heard their words. “Who then are you?” she cried. “Who told you that the father of my son is red?”

“We are chiefs,” they replied. “From the land of Faranise we come. We are seeking the child of a red father, who is to save us from our enemy Uelingtoni, and revenge all the evils he has brought upon our people. We were sent by our great priest, who told us that here we should find the deliverer of our people, the son of a man whose skin is red.”

The woman stood gasping with wonder. “Truly the gods have sent you,” she cried. “I have a son whose father is a chief in Tonga. But this my son — he who is sitting there on the mat — he is dumb. How then can he be the leader of your people?”

Never before had Napoleoni spoken; he had been dumb from the day of his birth; but now he rose and spake, for his time was come. Tall and strong — taller than the tallest of the strangers — he rose from the floor-mat on which he had been sitting.

“I am he whom you seek,” he said. “Come! Let us go to your canoe and sail, that I may lead you to victory. Farewell, my mother! Be of good cheer, for I shall come again in triumph, when I have smitten the enemy of these our friends. Or if I come not again, I will send for you to the land where it shall please me to dwell.”

“Farewell, my son,” said his mother, following him to the door, and plucking a flower that grew near by. “Go, and may the gods be your helpers! Take this flower; and when you look upon it, think then of your father and of me.”

The flower which she gave him was red.

So he led the men of Faranise. I could tell you of his mighty deeds — how he smote the enemies of Faranise, though they were many and strong; how he chased Uelingtoni from land to land, till he caught him at Uatalu, and banished him to a desert island, where he died.

Of all these things I could tell you; but to what end? All the world knows them. But of his birth only, and his going to Faranise, have I told you, because the men of Faranise hide the truth, giving out that he was truly one of themselves, born in an island, the dwelling-place of their royal clan. This lie they tell, envying us, the people of Tonga, because of our greatness. The men of Merikei also claim him, because they have red-skinned men among them; but the truth is that which I have told you here to-day. I am Vave of Kolonga.


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How the Fijian Ate the Sacred Cat

The Tongans of Haapai once revered a cat from a foreign ship, believing it to be a god. Dau-lawaki, a cunning Fijian, tricked the people by imitating the god’s voice and claiming the cat should be eaten. Though fearful, he obeyed, feigning reluctance, then confessed his deception back home, mocking the Tongans. Humiliated, they returned, while Dau-lawaki avoided Haapai forever.

Source
Tales from Old Fiji
by Lorimer Fison
Printed by Ballantyne, Hanson & Co.
at the Ballantyne Press
by Alexander Moring Ltd
London, 1904


► Themes of the story

Cunning and Deception: Dau-lawaki, the Fijian, employs trickery by imitating the god’s voice to convince the Tongans to eat the sacred cat.

Moral Lessons: The tale imparts a lesson on the consequences of blind faith and the potential for exploitation by deceitful individuals.

Cultural Heroes: Dau-lawaki’s actions, though morally ambiguous, position him as a clever figure who outsmarts the Tongans, reflecting traits often celebrated in cultural narratives.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Fijians


by the Lord of Naiau

In the old days, when we were all heathens, we, the men of Tonga, saw a large ship anchored at Haapai. Our fathers took counsel together as to how they might kill the people and take the vessel; and a plot was laid; so that we looked upon the crew of that ship as dead men, and the women laughed together, as they said, “See the slain walking about the beach. To-morrow they will be in the ovens.” But, when all was ready, the vessel sailed away in the night, and great was the anger of our people when they rose in the morning, and found that the bay was empty. Great was their rage, and loud was their angry talk, as they accused one another of warning the foreigners, so that from words they came to blows, and there was a great fight, wherein many died, and that night was a night of much weeping at Haapai.

► Continue reading…

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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Why the Kings of Lakemba Are Called Lords of Naiau

The old chief Tui Naiau explains that no mortal can claim the title “Lord of Lakemba,” as it belongs to a god who once ruled Fiji. The tale recounts the god’s mortal origins, his journey to the Sky-King (his father), and his conquests across Fiji, defeating gods and humans alike. He became “Slayer-that-came-from-Heaven,” married the Serpent-god’s daughter, and ultimately ruled Lakemba. His descendants honor the legacy by avoiding the title, fearing divine retribution.

Source
Tales from Old Fiji
by Lorimer Fison
Printed by Ballantyne, Hanson & Co.
at the Ballantyne Press
by Alexander Moring Ltd
London, 1904


► Themes of the story

Cultural Heroes: The narrative centers on a god of mortal descent who becomes a foundational figure in Fijian lore, shaping societal structures and titles.

Quest: The god’s journey from his mortal origins to the sky and back, conquering various realms, represents a transformative adventure.

Divine Intervention: The narrative involves interactions between gods and mortals, with divine beings influencing human affairs and societal norms.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Fijians


by the Lord of Naiau

“How is it, sir,” said I to old Tui Naiau, “that you, being King of Lakemba, are called Lord of Naiau? Why is not your title Lord of Lakemba?”

“Hush!” said the old chief, with a sort of startled look. “No mortal must be called Lord of Lakemba; for that is the name of him who was the god of this land in the old, old days. Look you, we are Christians now — we have thrown aside our heathen gods, but we remember them — we, the old men. And by night, within the houses, the young people gather round us, that we may tell them about the old times, when we had our own gods, and the lotu of the white men had not yet reached Fiji.

► Continue reading…

A great chief was the Lord of Lakemba, a great chief was he among the gods of old, though he was of mortal race by his mother’s side, for he was the son of Tui Langi, the Sky-King (he who sent Lekambai back to Samoa on the turtle); his mother, a woman of Tonga, was called the “Charitable one,” and there he was born.

When he grew to be a strong lad, he never played with the other boys, but kept himself apart; and his mother asked him why he acted thus.

“Why, my son,” said she, “do you walk alone all the day? Why do you not play with the other children of chiefs in the rara (the public square)? Truly, my son, it is not good for you thus to act; for they call you proud and haughty, and hate you; so that when you are a man you will have none to follow you in your goings forth to kill your enemies.”

Then the boy looked steadfastly upon his mother’s face. “Tell me, my mother,” said he, “tell me who is my father. The boys of the town have fathers who love them. Even little Tua-piko, the Hunchback, has a father, for I saw him run suddenly away from the other lads as they were playing together at ‘dragging the bodies of the slain’; he ran away to a man who was carrying yams from the gardens, shouting ‘Father, my father!’ And the man stopped, and put down his basket of yams, and, smiling upon Tua-piko, he took him in his arms, and kissed him, and danced him upon his shoulder; so that little Tua-piko shouted for joy. The big boys also — their fathers teach them to throw the spear, and to strike with the club, that they may be fitted for war; but no one teaches me.” Then the boy smiled, and his eyes glittered while he muttered to himself in a low tone, “But I teach myself. Yet a little while, and they shall see whose spear will fly the fastest through the air, and whose club shall be the best crusher of skulls.”

Then was the soul of his mother troubled, for she feared to hide from him the name of his father, and she was also afraid to tell him, lest he should go away and leave her. Great, therefore, was her trouble, and she wept. “Truly, my son,” said she, “you have indeed a father. Not such a one as the fathers of these children of men is the father of my child. But indeed, my son, I am afraid to tell you his name, lest you should leave me alone in this land. Leave me not, my boy, leave me not; for I love you dearly, and if you go away I shall die.”

And she wept bitterly; but the lad only smiled, and said quietly, in a low tone, “Tell me his name, mother, or I will kill you.” Then she told him, and without a word he turned round and went away, leaving his mother alone with her grief.

All day long he walked across the land, laughing softly to himself, and striking o£F the heads of the flowers with his walking-stick — a stick of noko-noko (or ironwood), and as the flowers fell around him, he said, “Thus will I strike off the heads of my enemies.” When it was night he thrust the stick into the ground, and lying down beside it slept till morning. Then waking, he saw a wonderful thing; for the stick of ironwood had grown up into a great and mighty tree, whose head was hidden in the clouds. And, climbing up the tree, he saw, when he had got above the clouds, that it reached quite up to the sky; for the sky was much nearer to the earth in those days. So he climbed and climbed till he reached the sky, and then he cried with a loud voice, “Here am I, O Sky-King, my father! Here am I!” And the Sky-King heard him. “Who are you?” asked the Sky-King angrily, for there had been fighting in the sky that day, and he had fled before his enemies, so that his soul was sore.

“I am the ‘Child that challenges Men,’ your son from Tonga,” answered the lad (for that was his name in those days; it was not till long afterwards that he was called Lord of Lakemba).

“Come up here, then, that I may see you,” growled the Sky-King. “Ugh, you are small. Why did you not wait till you had grown bigger? You had better go back again to your mother. Men are wanted here, now, not boys like you, for we are fighting.” And the sky-men, who were sitting round the King, laughed at the child.

Then the lad answered not a word; but smiling, as was his wont, while his eyes glittered, he stepped up to a big sky-man, whose laugh was the loudest of all, and smote him on the head with his fist so fierce a blow that he fell back senseless on the ground, and the laughter ceased, for they were all astounded at the boy’s strength and daring. But the King was mad with joy, and cried out, clapping his hands:

“Well done! Well done, my boy! A terrible stroke! Take this club, my son, and strike him again;” for the big sky-man was now sitting up, winking his eyes, and rubbing his head with his hands. So the lad took the club, and therewith struck him so dreadful a stroke that the club sank down into the midst of his broken skull. Then he threw the weapon down at his father’s feet, saying, “He will laugh no more. And now I had better go back to my mother; for it is men that are wanted here, not boys like me.”

“You shall stay with us, my boy,” cried the Sky-King, catching him by the hand, “you shall stay with us. Let the ovens be heated; for to-night will we feast with my son, and to-morrow shall we slay our enemies.” So the lad sat down with his father and made for himself a club out of the ironwood tree.

And on the morrow, in the early morning, the foe came up to the town, shouting for war, and crying, “Come out to us, O Sky-King, for we are hungry. Come out to us, that we may eat.”

Then the boy rose up, saying, “Let no man follow me. Stay you all in the town,” and, taking in his hand the club which he had made, he rushed out into the midst of the enemy, striking savagely right and left, and killing with every blow; till at length they fled before him, and he sat down on a heap of dead bodies, calling to the townsfolk —

“Come forth and drag the slain away.” So they came out, singing the Death-song, and dragged away the bodies of the slain, forty and two, while the wooden drum that we call lali sounded the Dorua or “Death-roll” in the town.

Four times afterwards, five times in all, did the boy smite his father’s enemies, so that their souls grew small, and they came bringing peace-offerings to the Sky-King, saying, “Pity us, my lord, and let us live;” wherefore he was left without an enemy, and his rule stretched over all the sky. And the lad stayed with his father, growing up into a youth great and tall; and you may be sure that no one dared again to laugh at him after the day when he climbed up the ironwood tree, and killed the big sky-man.

But after all the enemies had humbled themselves before the Sky-King and become his servants, there was no more fighting to be done; and the Child-that-challenges-men began to be weary, because there was no one for him to kill: so he said to his father, “I will now go back again to the earth, and seek a wife among the children of men;” and the Sky-King said, “Good are your words, my son. Go down to the earth, and take therefrom to yourself a wife.” Then he kissed his son, and wept over him; though indeed he was glad at heart at his going, for he feared him.

Now the ironwood tree had been swept away by a great flood, so that he could not get down again to the earth by it; nevertheless he came down to Fiji at Bengga. We do not know clearly how he got down; but the Bengga people say that two men, great and tall, whose faces were white, came with him; and whether they helped him or not we cannot tell — all we know is that he lighted first upon Bengga. And there, when the gods of the place raised their people and fought against him, he smote them with a great slaughter, and took their land, dividing it into two parts, whereof he gave one to his friends, the white men, and the other he gave to the King of Rewa. So he went from island to island, smiting the gods in every place, and forcing them all to make peace-ofFerings to him, throughout all the islands, and all Bau, and the inland parts of Great Fiji also, till he came to the Hill of Kauvandra, where the great Serpent-god dwelt, and with him he did not fight; for the great Serpent came forth to meet him, saying, “Why should we two fight, O Slayer that camest from Heaven? See, here is my daughter. Lady Sweet-eyes; it will be better for you to marry her, than to fight with me.” So these words pleased the Slayer that came from Heaven; and he married the daughter of the great Serpent. (Now “Slayer-that-came-from-Heaven” is the name that the men of Bengga gave him.)

Then he went to Bau, and to all the kingdoms of Vanua Levu, fighting with the gods of the land, and making them all his servants; so that he and the great Serpent are the two greatest gods in Fiji. Thus he came at length to Windward, landing here at Lakemba in the night; and in the morning an old woman found him on the beach, as she was going down to fetch salt water.

“Sa yandra — I salute you, sir stranger,” said she. “Whence do you come?”

“Take me up to the town,” said he; “lead me to the house of your lord.” So the woman led him along the path, and reported him to the chief.

Now, in those days Wathi-wathi was the chief town in Lakemba, as Tubou is at this present day. Each town had its own god, who lived among the people, and these were the rulers of the land: jealous also were they of one another, so that they were always at war, and men were clubbed every day. He who ruled here in Tubou was a god called Ratu-mai-na-koro, the “Lord that came from the Town,” and when he heard of the coming of the Slayer-that-came-from-Heaven he said, “Let him come hither.” So they two sat down together in the great house; and the Slayer-that-came-from-Heaven told him about his fightings, and how that he had conquered all the gods of Fiji, except the great Serpent whose daughter he had married. And the other replied, “Good is your coming, and good is your report. But now let us eat. Truly I am ashamed to-day, because I have no food to set before you. Everything is taken to Wathi-wathi. But the bananas are ripe. See, there is a tree. Let us pluck some and eat.”

“Sit you still,” said the Slayer-that-came-from-Heaven. “I will go and pluck the bananas that we two may eat.”

But when the townsfolk saw him at the tree, they cried aloud, “You there, what are you doing? The bananas are tabu, for the first fruits have not yet been taken to our lords at Wathi-wathi.”

Then the Slayer-that-came-from-Heaven smiled, as he looked upon them with glittering eyes.

“I know them not,” said he, “these lords of yours at Wathi-wathi. One thing only I know — that I am hungry;” whereupon he cut the bananas, and the people shouted for war, and fell upon him: but he smote them with his terrible fist, killing two outright, and hurting many more; so that the living fled from before him, leaving him alone with the dead. And, taking up the bananas and the bodies of the two who were slain, he threw them down in the house before the Lord-that-came-from-the-Town, saying, “Here is food. Come, let us eat.”

Thus also he did on the morrow at Nasangkalau, bringing the bananas and the bodies of the slain with him, to the Lord-that-came-from-the-Town in his house at Tubou. Then he went on to Vakano, but the people there brought him a peace-offering, as did all the other towns also, excepting Wathi-wathi, and it he destroyed with a great slaughter; so that all the chiefs came to Tubou, bringing offerings, and humbling themselves, whereby Tubou became the chief town of Lakemba, as it is to this day.

Then spake the Lord-that-came-from-the-Town: “It is not right, O Slayer-that-came-from-Heaven, that I should rule over this people. You alone have conquered the land, and you alone shall rule it.”

So the Slayer-that-came-from-Heaven sat himself down here in Tubou, ruling all the land. Moreover, he sent for his wife. Lady Sweet-eyes, and she bare him a son, whom he called Taliaitupou; after whom also I, the Lord of Naiau, am named. Thus he came to be the Lord of Lakemba. First he was the “Child that challenges men,” then he was the “Slayer that came from Heaven,” and lastly the “Lord of Lakemba.”

Many years did he rule here till his son was a grown man, and then he gave the kingdom to him, going himself to Tonga, where also he conquered all the mighty ones; and at length returned to his father the Sky-King, with whom he lived ever after, receiving the worship of many lands.

And this is why I, the ruler of this kingdom, am called the “Lord of Naiau”; for our fathers always said that if any man should take to himself the title of “Lord of Lakemba,” he would come down from the sky and crush his skull with a blow of his terrible fist.

Therefore is my title Tui, or lord, of Naiau.


Running and expanding this site requires resources: from maintaining our digital platform to sourcing and curating new content. With your help, we can grow our collection, improve accessibility, and bring these incredible narratives to an even wider audience. Your sponsorship enables us to keep the world’s stories alive and thriving. ♦ Visit our Support page

How the Tongans Came to Fiji

This tale recounts how the Tonga men came to Fiji. A Samoan fisherman, Lekambai, was swept to the Sky-king’s land, where he was aided by a turtle to return home. After the turtle’s tragic death, its shell was buried deep. Tongans later retrieved the shell but lost a piece, leading them to wander until settling in Fiji, where they worshipped the turtle shell.

Source
Tales from Old Fiji
by Lorimer Fison
Printed by Ballantyne, Hanson & Co.
at the Ballantyne Press
by Alexander Moring Ltd
London, 1904


► Themes of the story

Journey to the Otherworld: Lekambai’s voyage to the Sky-king’s land represents a traversal into a realm beyond the ordinary world.

Cultural Heroes: Lekambai’s experience and the Tongans’ subsequent settlement in Fiji position them as foundational figures influencing societal development.

Sacred Objects: The turtle shell, worshipped by the Tongans in Fiji, serves as a powerful artifact imbued with symbolic significance.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Fijians


by Ratu Taliaitupou, Lord of Naiau

THIS is the account of how the Tonga men came to Fiji. In the old days a Samoan went out in his canoe to fish; and, while he was fishing, a great storm arose, which drove him far out to sea, and came near to swamp his canoe in the waves. Then, when the sun went down, and the land was dark, he said, “Why do I kill myself with baling? It is useless. Let me now sink down in the waters and die.” So he left off baling, and the canoe filled with water; but, just as it was ready to sink, a great wave lifted it and threw it against a rock, to which the man clung, while his canoe floated away till it was dashed to pieces. Then this Samoan, whose name was Lekambai, climbed and climbed up this rock; but still he could find no dwelling-place, nor food, nor drink, excepting that he found, here and there, a little water in the hollows of the rock: so, after climbing many days, he was weak and ready to die.

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Now was the earth hidden from his sight because of the great height to which he had climbed; and he could see nothing but the sun by day, and the moon and the stars by night, while the clouds lay far beneath his feet: and still, as bending his head backwards he looked up, he could see no end to the great black rock. Yet, however. he went climbing on, higher and ever higher, till in the middle of the night his strength failed him; and, fainting, he fell to the ground.

When his spirit came back to him again he looked up, and saw that he was in a pleasant land, full of trees and sweet-smelling flowers, whereon the sun was shining brightly; but there were no coconut trees, nor could he see any man. Then he began to weep bitterly, as he thought of his home and his friends, and how that he would see them no more.

Now this land to which he had climbed was the Sky; and the Sky-king heard his weeping, and said, “You wretched man there! Why are you weeping?”

“I am weeping, sir,” answered he, “because I am a stranger in a strange land. My country is Samoa, and I know that I shall see it no more for ever.”

Then did the Sky-king pity him, and said, “Weep not, for you shall see your land again, and your wife, and your children, and your friends. See this turtle. Get on its back, and it will carry you safe to Samoa. Only mind this, when it begins to move, do you hide your face in your hands, and look not up again till the turtle crawls ashore. Know now that, if you do not follow my words, a great and terrible evil will befall you. And when you reach your land remember to give the turtle a coconut and a coconut-leaf mat, of the kind called ‘tambakau,’ that we may plant the nut, and learn how to make mats out of its leaves; for we have none in this our country. Go now, the turtle is ready.”

So Lekambai thanked the Sky-king and promised faithfully to remember all his words; then, hiding his face in his hands, he mounted upon the turtle’s back, whereupon it leapt at once with him down into the sea, into which they fell with a great splash, sinking down deep into the midst of the waters, till Lekambai was nearly choked for want of breath; but still he remembered the words of the Sky-king, and kept his hands tight over his eyes.

Then the turtle rose again to the surface, and went swimming swiftly over the waves with Lekambai on its back, covering his eyes with his hands, lest he should look up and die. Many voices sounded in his ears, persuading him to uncover his eyes; but he would not. The sharks called after him, and said, “We are coming! We, the sharks, are coming to eat you!” but still he covered his eyes. The wind howled past him, screaming into his ears, “I am strong! I will blow you off into the sea.” The waves roared, as he went sailing over them, “Yet will we swallow you up,” and the dolphin, more cunning than any other fish, leaped high out of the water close to him, and said, “See! Here comes sailing a canoe from your own land, from Samoa. It is your friends looking for you;” but still Lekambai covered his eyes tightly with his hands, for he feared the words of the Sky-king.

All night they went on swiftly over the waters; and when morning dawned a great bird flew past, crying aloud, “Lekambai! Lekambai! Look up, for Samoa is in sight.” But he would not; and presently his feet struck against the ground, and the turtle crawled up on the beach. Then he looked up and found that he had landed close to his own town; so he leaped to the ground, and ran in amongst his friends, who welcomed him back as one from the dead, weeping over him for joy that he had returned once more — he whom they had mourned, as lost, for so long a time.

So it fell out that he forgot the turtle, thinking of nothing but his wife and his children and his friends who were thronging around, kissing him, and weeping over him, and asking many questions, so that it was long before he thought again of the turtle; and then he remembered the mat and the coconut which he had promised to the Sky-king: whereupon he ran down again to the beach, and found that the turtle was gone, for it had grown tired of waiting and hungry, and had therefore swum off a little way along the reef (as far, perhaps, as from here to Nuku-nuku) to look for some seaweed to eat; and there some of the townsfolk saw it, and speared it, and killed it.

Now Lekambai, when he could not find the turtle, ran along the beach in great fear, looking for it; and when he came to the place where the fishing canoes were at anchor, he found it lying dead upon the beach, while his townsmen were heating an oven wherein to cook it.

Then was he very sorry; great was his grief; and he said, “What is this you have done, my friends? An evil thing, a wretched thing! You have killed my friend — he who brought me hither over the sea. What shall I do? How can I now send my gifts to the Sky-king? lau-e, lau-g! A miserable man am I!” And they wept together.

Then said Lekambai, “Useless now is our weeping. Put out the fire in the oven, and let us dig it deeper down to form a grave, and therein let us bury the turtle that you have killed. Oh, evil day!”

So they dug the grave, digging it deep — very deep, such as had never been dug before; for they were five days digging it, and they had to put down the stem of a tall coconut palm as a ladder whereon they might climb up with the earth from the grave; and at the bottom, on the sixth day, they laid the turtle, burying also therewith a mat and a coconut, which were the gifts asked for by the Sky-king.

Now all this time the Sky-king was wondering that the turtle did not come back again, after carrying Lekambai to Samoa; therefore he sent a sandpiper to see what was the matter; and the sandpiper came by, just as they were covering in the grave. So he swept down amongst the crowd, brushing with his wings the head of a lad called Lavai-pani, and then returned to make his report to the Sky-king.

Now from that time Lavai-pani remained a child. That generation passed away, and the next, and a third, and still he was the same as on the day when the turtle was buried in the deep grave, and when the sandpiper brushed his head with its wings. Little children grew old, and greyheaded, and died; their children also, and their grandchildren passed away, but Lavai-pani was still but a boy: and so, when many years were gone by, the Samoans forgot where the turtle was buried; for he only among them all knew the place of its grave, and he was silent.

Then, in the after days, this tale came to the ears of the King of Tonga; and he said to his people, “Sail now away to Samoa, and bring me the shell of that turtle, that I may make therewith fish hooks, such as our grandfathers formerly employed. Good enough for you are the shells of turtles which we find in our land; but for me, the great King, let there be hooks made from the shell of the turtle which came down from heaven.”

So a big canoe sailed, full of men, and the messenger reported the words of the King to the people of Samoa; but they laughed, and said, “It is an idle tale. Your sailing is in vain. There is not one among us who knows the place where the turtle is buried; and how, then, can we find its shell?” Therefore, the Tongans went back again to their land, and reported this to their King. But, when he heard their report, his rage was great; and he said, “You, O disobedient ones! Loose not your sail from the mast to bring it ashore; but hoist it again at once, and bring me the shell of that turtle. Why should you wish to die?” So they sailed away in sorrow and great fear.

When they came again to Samoa, all the people gathered together, and inquired of the old men as to where was the grave of the turtle which had come down from heaven, but none of them knew. This only they knew — that their fathers had told them how it had brought Lekambai over the waters to their land, but as to its burial-place, not one of them could tell where it was. Then Lavai-pani, the silent one, stood up and said, “Let not your souls be small, ye chiefs from Tonga. I can show you the grave of the turtle, for I was there when it was buried.” But they were angry, and cried out, “What words are these? Have you brought this lad hither to mock us? Here are men whose heads are grey, they can remember nothing about the turtle; and this impudent one — a boy, a child — tells us that he saw it buried. What words perchance are these?”

Then said the Samoans, “We know not whether he be a child or not. He is not one of this generation. When our old men were boys, he was a boy among them; and their fathers said that he was the same in their time also. Let us listen to his words, for never before have we heard him speak.”

When the Tongans heard this, they wondered and were silent; but the boy said, “Come, let us go to the grave of the turtle.” And he took them to the place, saying, “Here was the turtle buried. Dig here, and you will find its shell.”

So they dug till the sun went down, but found nothing; and cried out in anger, “This is a deceiver. He is mocking us. Where, then, is the turtle-shell, that we may take it to our King and live?”

But Lavai-pani laughed, and turned to his people, saying, “See, now, the foolishness of these Tongans! Twice have they sailed hither across the waters from their land to get this shell, and now they have not patience to dig for it. Five days were our fathers in digging this grave, and do you expect to find the shell to-day? Dig four days more, and you will find it.”

So they continued digging, and on the evening of the fifth day they found the shell and the bones of the turtle; and great then was their joy, for they said, “Now we live!”

Then they went sailing back to Tonga, carrying with them the shell. Twelve pieces thereof they gave to the King, but the thirteenth they kept for themselves, hiding it. So the King was angry, and said, “Here are only twelve pieces. Where, then, is the thirteenth? See, here is one piece missing, for the shell is not whole.” And they said, “It is true, sir, that there were thirteen pieces; but the men of Samoa said to us, ‘Take you these twelve to the great chief, your King, and let the thirteenth stay with us.’ But we answered, ‘Not so; we will have all the shell.’ Then were they angry, and said to us, ‘Take your twelve pieces, and go. Why should we kill you? ‘ So we feared, for they were many; and the thirteenth piece is still with them.”

But the King glowed with anger, and cried aloud, “Go back this very day, and bring me the piece you have left behind.”

So they sailed again in great fear; and when they were outside the reef, they said, “What shall we do? We cannot go back to Samoa; and if we return to our own land, the King will kill us; let us, therefore, follow the wind, and perhaps it will take us to some land where we may live. Oh evil day! Why did we hide the thirteenth piece and not give it up to our lord the King?”

So they kept away before the wind which was then blowing, and when it shifted, they did not sheet home their sail, but steered always before the wind; and so it fell out that, after many days, they came to Kandavu near Fiji.

Now, Kandavu was then subject to Rewa, and the King of Rewa took them away, giving them land near his town, where their children dwell at this day. A turtle shell also was the god they worshipped till the “lotu” of the white men spread over all these lands.

And this is how the men of Tonga came down to Fiji.


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Aiai, Son of Ku-ula

After the King of Hana’s death, Aiai, son of the ocean deity Ku-ula, established fishing stations (ku-ula) and revitalized the fishing culture across Hawaii. Using sacred stones and his father’s divine fishing tools, he ensured abundant marine life, taught fishing techniques, and appointed leaders. His legacy persisted through traditions, fostering prosperity and spiritual reverence for the sea. Aiai’s story symbolizes harmony between humans and nature.

Source
Hawaiian Folk Tales
a collection of native legends
compiled by Thos. G. Thrum
A.C. McClurg & Co., Chicago, 1907


► Themes of the story

Cultural Heroes: Aiai is depicted as a foundational figure who revitalizes fishing practices across Hawaii, establishing fishing stations and teaching techniques that ensure prosperity and spiritual reverence for the sea.

Sacred Objects: Aiai utilizes sacred stones and his father’s divine fishing tools to attract and maintain abundant marine life, highlighting the significance of these artifacts in his endeavors.

Harmony with Nature: The narrative emphasizes the harmonious relationship between humans and the natural world, as Aiai’s actions lead to the replenishment of fish populations and sustainable fishing practices.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Hawaiians


Part II of the Legend of
Ku-ula, the Fish God of Hawaii
Translated from Moke Manu by M.K. Nakuina

After the death of the King of Hana, Aiai left the people of Haneoo catching hinalea and went to Kumaka, a place where fresh water springs out from the sand and rocks near the surf of Puhele, at Hamoa, where lay a large, long stone in the sea. This stone he raised upright and also placed others about the water spring, and said to his friend: “To-day I name this stone Ku-a-lanakila, for I have triumphed over my enemies; and I hereby declare that all fishes, crabs, and sea-moss shall return again in plenty throughout the seas of Hana, as in the days when my parents were living in the flesh at Lehoula.”

From the time Aiai raised this stone, up to the present, the story of Ku-ula and Aiai is well preserved, and people have flocked to the place where the stone stands to see it and verify the tradition.

► Continue reading…

Some kahunas advise their suffering patients to pay a visit to the stone, Ku-lanakila, with some offerings for relief from their sickness and also to bathe in the spring of Kumaka and the surf of Puhele. This was a favorite spot of the kings and chiefs of the olden times for bathing and surf-riding, and is often referred to in the stories and legends of Hawaii-nei. This was the first stone raised by Aiai and established as a ku-ula at Hamoa; and the old people of Hana attributed to its influence the return of the fish to their waters.

After Aiai’s practice of his father’s instructions and the return of the fishes, his fame spread throughout the district, and the people made much of him during his stay with them.

A great service wrought by Aiai during his boyhood was the teaching of his friend and his friend’s parents how to make the various nets for all kinds of fishing. He also taught them to make the different kinds of fishing lines. When they were skilled in all these branches of knowledge pertaining to fishing, he called the people together, and in their presence declared his friend to be the head fisherman of Hana, with full control of all the stations (ko’a ia) he had established. This wonder-working power second to none, possessed by Aiai, he now conferred on his friend, whereby his own name would be perpetuated and his fame established all over the land.

The first ko’a ia (fishing ground, or station) where Aiai measured the depth of the sea is near Aleamai, his birthplace, and is called Kapukaulua, where he hooked and killed the eel Koona. It is a few miles from the shore to the southeast of the rocky islet called Alau. The second station he established was at a spot about a mile from Haneoo and Hamoa which was for the kala, palani, nanue, puhi, and ula. These varieties of fish are not caught by nets, or with the hook, but in baskets which are filled with bait and let down in the deep sea.

The third station, which he named Koauli, was located out in the deep sea for the deep sea fishes, the depth ranging about two hundred fathoms. This is the ko’a that fishermen have to locate by certain shore bearings, lest a mistake be made as to the exact spot and the bottom be found rocky and the hooks entangle in the coral. In all the stations Aiai located there are no coral ledges where the fisherman’s hook would catch, or the line be entangled; and old Hawaiians commended the skill of such locations, believing that the success of Aiai’s work was due to his father’s influence as an ocean deity.

At one time Aiai went over to the bay of Wananalua, the present port of Hana, with its noted hill of Kauiki and the sandy beach of Pueokahi. Here he made and placed a ku-ula, and also placed a fish stone in the cliff of Kauiki whereon is the ko’a known as Makakiloia. And the people of Hana give credit to this stone for the frequent appearance of the akule, oio, moi, and other fishes in their waters.

Aiai’s good work did not stop at this point; proceeding to Honomaele he picked up three pebbles at the shore and, going into the sea, out beyond the breaking surf, he placed them there. In due time these three pebbles gathered others together and made a regular ridge; and when this was accomplished, the aweoweo gathered from the far ocean to this ridge of pebbles for rest; whereupon the people came with net, hook, and line, and caught them as they desired. The writer witnessed this in 1845 with his own eyes. This ko’a for aweoweo is still there, but difficult to locate, from the fact that all the old residents are gone–either dead or moved away.

He next went over to Waiohue, Koolau, where he placed a stone on a sharp rocky islet, called Paka, whereon a few puhala grow. It is claimed that during the season of the kala, they come in from the ocean, attracted to this locality by the power of this stone. They continue on to Mokumana, a cape between Keanae and Wailuanui. They come in gradually for two days, and on the third day of their reaching the coast, at the pali of Ohea, is the time and place to surround them with nets. In olden times while the fishermen were hauling in their nets full of kala into the canoes, the akule and oio also came in numbers at the same time, making it impossible to catch all in one day; and as there were so many gathered in the net it took them a day and a night before they could care for their draught, which yielded so many more than could be made use of that they were fed to the pigs and dogs. The kala of Ohea is noted for its fatness and fine flavor. Few people are now living there, and the people who knew all about this are dead; but the stone that Aiai placed on that little island at Waiohue is still there.

Aiai stayed there a few days and then returned to Hana and lived at his birthplace quite a length of time till he was a man grown. During this period he was teaching his art of fishing in all its forms; and when he was satisfied the people were proficient, he prepared to visit other places for like service. But before leaving, Aiai told his friend to go and kill the big hee kupua (wonderful octopus) in the deep sea, right out of Wailuanui, Koolau, and he consented.

When the canoes were made ready and drawn to the beach and the people came prepared to start, Aiai brought the hokeo (fishing gourd), where the leho (kauri shell) that Ku-ula his father gave him was kept, and gave it to his friend. This shell is called lehoula, and the locality at Hana of that name was called after it.

Then the canoes and people sailed away till they got out along the palis near Kopiliula, where they rested. Aiai was not with the party, but overlooked their operations from the pali of Puhiai. While they rested, preparation for the lowering of the leho was being made, and when ready, Aiai’s friend called on Ku-ula and Hina for the assistance of their wonderful powers. When he was through, he took off the covering of the gourd and took out the leho, which had rich beautiful colors like the rainbow, and attaching it to the line, he lowered it into the sea, where it sent out rays of a fiery light. The hee was so attracted by its radiance that it came out of its hole and with its great arms, which were as long and large as a full-grown cocoanut tree, came up to the surface of the water and stood there like a cocoanut grove. The men were frightened, for it approached and went right into the canoes with the intention of destroying them and the men and capturing the leho; but it failed, because Aiai’s friend, with his skill and power, had provided himself with a stone, which, at the proper time, he shoved into the head of the squid; and the weight of the stone drew it down to the bottom of the sea and kept it there, and being powerless to remove the stone, it died. The men seized and cut off one of the arms, which was so big that it loaded the canoes down so that they returned to Hana. When the squid died, it turned to stone. It is pointed out to-day just outside of Wailuanui, where a stone formation resembles the body of a squid and the arms, with one missing.

When Aiai saw from the pali that his friend was successful in killing the hee, he returned to Hana unseen, and in a short while the canoes arrived with its arm, which was divided among the people according to the directions of Aiai.

When Aiai saw that his friend and others of Hana were skilled in all the art of fishing, he decided to leave his birthplace and journey elsewhere. So he called a council of his friends and told them of his intended departure, to establish other fishing stations and instruct the people with all the knowledge thereof in conformity with the injunction of Ku-ula his father. They approved of the course contemplated and expressed their indebtedness to him for all the benefits he had shown them.

On leaving Aleamai he took with him the fish-hook, manaiaakalani, and the fish pearl, Kahuoi, for aku from the little cave where he had lodged on the hill of Kaiwiopele, and then disappeared in the mysterious manner of his parents. He established ku-ulas and ko’a aina, by placing three fish stones at various points as far as Kipahulu. At the streams of Kikoo and Maulili there stands a stone to-day, which was thrown by Aiai and dropped at a bend in the waters, unmoved by the many freshets that have swept the valleys since that time.

Out in the sea of Maulili is a famous station known as Koanui. It is about a mile from the shore and marks the boundary of the sea of Maulili, and the fish that appear periodically and are caught within its limits have been subject to a division between the fishermen and the landowner ever since. This is a station where the fisherman’s hook shall not return without a fish except the hook be lost, or the line cut.

The first time that Aiai tested this station and caught a fish with his noted hook, he saw a fisherman in his canoe drifting idly, without success. When he saw Aiai, this fisherman, called Kanemakua, paddled till he came close to where Aiai was floating on an improvised canoe, a wiliwili log, without an outrigger,–which much surprised him. Before the fisherman reached him, Aiai felt a tug at his line and knew that he had caught a fish and began pulling it in. When Kanemakua came within speaking distance Aiai greeted him and gave him the fish, putting it into his canoe. Kanemakua was made happy and thanked Aiai for his generosity. While putting it in the canoe Aiai said:

“This is the first time I have fished in these waters to locate (or found) this station, and as you are the first man I meet I give you the first fish caught. I also give you charge of this ko’a; but take my advice. When you come here to fish and see a man meeting you in a canoe and floating alongside of you, if at that time you have caught a fish, then give it to him as I have done to you, without regret, and thus get a good name and be known as a generous man. If you observe this, great benefits will come to you and those related to you.”

As Aiai finished speaking he suddenly disappeared, and Kanemakua could hardly realize that he had not been dreaming but for the assurance he had in the great fish lying in his canoe. He returned to the shore with his prize, which was so large and heavy that it required the help of two others to carry it to the house, where it was cut up and the oven made hot for its baking. When it was cooked he took the eyes of the fish and offered them up as a thanksgiving sacrifice. Then the family, friends, and neighbors around came to the feast and ate freely. During all this time Kanemakua was thinking of the words spoken by the young man, which he duly observed. The first ku-ula established in Maulili, Maui, was named after him, and from that time its fish have been given out freely without restriction or division.

After establishing the different ku-ula stations along the coast from Hana to Kipahulu, Aiai went to Kaupo and other places. A noted station and ku-ula is at Kahikinui. All the stations of this place are in the deep sea, where they use nets of three kinds; there is also fishing with poles, and ulua fishing, because this part of the island faces the wind; but the ku-ulas are located on the seashore, as is also the one at Honuaula, where it is covered over by the lava flow.

Thus was performed the good work of Aiai in establishing ku-ula stations and fish stones continued all around the island of Maui. It is also said that he visited Kahoolawe and established a ku-ula at Hakioawa, though it differs from the others, being built on a high bluff overlooking the sea, somewhat like a temple, by placing stones in the form of a square, in the middle of which was left a space wherein the fishermen of that island laid their first fish caught, as a thank offering. Awa and kapa were also placed there as offerings to the fish deities.

An idea prevails with some people that the ko’a of Kamohoalii, the king shark of Kahoolawe, is on this island, but if all the stories told of it be examined there will be found no reference to a ko’a of his on this island.

From Kahoolawe, Aiai next went to Lanai, where he started fishing for aku (bonito) at Cape Kaunolu, using his pearl Kahuoi. This is the first case known of fishing for aku with pearl from the land, as it is a well known fact that this fish is caught only in deep sea, far from shore. In the story of Kaneapua it is shown that he is the only one who had fished for aku at the Cape of Kaunolu, where it was started by Aiai.

From Kaunolu, Aiai went to Kaena Cape, where at a place close to Paomai, was a little sandy beach now known as Polihua. Here he took a stone and carved a figure on it, then carried and placed it on the sandy beach, and called on his parents. While making his incantations the stone moved toward the sea and disappeared under the water. His incantations finished, the stone reappeared and moved toward him till it reached the place where it had been laid; whereupon it was transformed into a turtle, and gave the name of Polihua to that beach. This work of Aiai on the island of Lanai was the first introduction of the turtle in the seas of Hawaii, and also originated the habit of the turtle of going up the beach to lay its eggs, then returning to the sea.

After making the circuit of Lanai he went over to Molokai, landing at Punakou and travelled along the shore till he reached Kaunakakau. At this place he saw spawns of mullet, called Puai-i, right near the shore, which he kicked with his foot, landing them on the sand. This practice of kicking fish with the feet is carried on to this time, but only at that locality. Aiai continued on along the Kona side of Molokai, examining its fishing grounds and establishing ku-ulas till he got to Halawa. At the Koolau side of the island he stopped at Wailau and saw the cave of the eel Koona that went to Hana and stole the fish from his father’s pond, and the cause of all the trouble that befell his parents and himself.

When Aiai landed at Wailau he saw that both sides of the valley were covered with men, women, and children engaged in closing up the stream and diverting its water to another course, whereby they would be enabled to catch oopu and opae. The water being low, the gourds of some of the people were full from their catch.

Aiai noticed their wanton method of fishing, whereby all oopus and opaes were caught without thought of any reservation for their propagation; therefore he called on his parents to take them all away. The prayer was granted, for suddenly they all disappeared; those in the water went up the stream to a place called Koki, while those in the gourds were turned to lizards which scampered out and ran all over the rocks. The people were much surprised at this change and felt sorely disappointed at the loss of their food supply.

On account of his regard for a certain lad of that place, named Kahiwa, he showed him the place of the opaes to be up the precipitous cliff, Koki. The youth was attentive to the direction of Aiai and going there he found the oopus and opaes as stated, as they are to this day. That is what established the noted saying of the old people of that land: “Kokio of Wailau is the ladder of the opae.” It is also known as the “Pali of Kahiwa.”

When Aiai left Wailau he showed this lad the ku-ula and the fish station in the sea he had located there, at the same distance as that rocky island known as Mokapu. He went also to Pelekunu, Waikolu and Kalawao, even to Kalaupapa, the present home of the lepers. At the latter place he left a certain fish stone. That is the reason fish constantly gather there even to this day. He also went to Hoolehua and so on as far as Ka lae o ka ilio (the dog’s forehead) and Ka lae o ka laau. Between these two capes in the sea is a station established by Aiai, where a tree grew out from under a rock, Ekaha by name. It is a hardwood tree, but the trunk and also the branches are without leaves. This place is a great haunt for fishermen with their hooks.

Aiai then came to Oahu, first landing at Makapuu, in Koolau, where he founded a pohaku-ia (fish stone) for red fish and for speckled fish, and called it Malei. This was a female rock, and the fish of that place is the uhu. It is referred to in the mele of Hiiaka, thus:

“I will not go to the stormy capes of Koolau,
The sea-cliffs of Moeaau.
The woman watching uhu of Makapuu
Dwells on the ledge of Kamakani
At Koolau. The living
Offers grass-twined sacrifices, O Malie!”

From the time Aiai founded that spawning-place until the present, its fish have been the uhu, extending to Hanauma. There were also several gathering-places for fish established outside of Kawaihoa. Aiai next moved to Maunalua, then to Waialae and Kahalaia. At Kaalawai he placed a white and brown rock. There in that place is a hole filled with aholehole [a species of fish], therefore the name of the land is Kaluahole. Right outside of Kahuahui there is a station where Aiai placed a large round sandstone that is surrounded by spawning-places for fish; Ponahakeone is its name.

In ancient times the chiefs selected a very secret place wherein to hide the dead bodies of their greatly beloved, lest some one should steal their bones to make fish-hooks, or arrows to shoot mice with. For that reason the ancients referred to Ponahakeone as “He Lualoa no Na’lii“–a deep pit for the chiefs.

Aiai came to Kalia and so on to Kakaako. Here he was befriended by a man named Apua, with whom he remained several days, observing and listening to the murmurs of the chief named Kou. This chief was a skilful hiaku fisherman, his grounds being outside of Mamala until you came to Moanalua. There was none so skilled as he, and generous withal, giving akus to the people throughout the district.

As Aiai was dwelling with his friend Apua at Kakaako, he meandered off one day along the shore of Kulolia, and so on to Pakaka and Kapapoko. But he did not return to the house of his friend, for he met a young woman gathering limu (sea-moss) and fishing for crabs. This young woman, whose name was Puiwa, lived at Hanakaialama and was a virgin, never having had a husband. She herself, as the people would say, was forward to ask Aiai to be her husband; but he listened to her voice, and they went up together to her home and saw the parents and relatives, and forthwith were married. After living with this young woman some time a son was born to them, whom Aiai named Puniaiki. During those days was the distribution of aku which were sent up from Honolulu to the different dwellings; but while others were given a whole fish, they got but a portion from some neighbor. For this reason the woman was angry, and told Aiai to go to the brook and get some oopus fit to eat, as well as opae. Aiai listened to the voice of his wife. He dug a ditch and constructed a dam so as to lead the water of the brook into some pits, and thus be able to catch the oopu and opae. He labored some days at this work, and the fish and shrimps were hung up to dry.

On a certain day following, Aiai and his wife went with their child to the brook. She left her son upon the bank of the stream while she engaged herself in catching opae and oopu from the pits. But it was not long before the child began to cry; and as he cried, Aiai told his wife to leave her fishing, but she talked saucily to him. So Aiai called upon the names of his ancestors. Immediately a dark and lowering cloud drew near and poured out a flood of water upon the stream, and in a short time the dam was broken by the freshet and all the oopu and opae, together with the child, were swept toward the sea. But the woman was not taken by the flood. Aiai then rose up and departed, without thought of his wife.

He went down from the valley to Kaumakapili, and as he was standing there he saw some women fishing for oopu on the banks of the stream, the daughter of the chief Kikihale being with them. At that time, behold, there was caught by the female guardian of the daughter of Kikihale a very large oopu. This oopu she showed to her protégée, who told her to put it into a large calabash with water and feed it with limu, so that it might become a pet fish. This was done and the oopu was tended very carefully night and day.

Aiai stood by and saw the fish lifted out of the brook, and recognized it at the same time as his own child, changed from a human being into an oopu.

(At this point the story of Aiai gives place to that of his child.)

When the oopu was placed in a large calabash with water, it was carefully tended and fed with sea-moss for some time, but one day in seeing to this duty the guardian of the chieftainess, on reaching the calabash, was startled to behold therein a human child, looking with its eyes. And the water in the calabash had disappeared. She was greatly surprised and seized with a dark foreboding, and a trembling fear possessed her as she looked upon this miraculous child.

This woman went and told the chieftainess of this child they knew to have had the form of an oopu, and as Kikihale heard the story of her guardian she went quickly, with grave doubts, however, of this her report; but there, on reaching the calabash, as she looked she saw indeed a child therein. She immediately put forth her hands toward the child and lifting it, carefully examined its form and noted its agreeable features. As the thought quickly possessed this girl, she said: “Now, my guardian, you and your husband take and rear this child till he is grown, then I will be his wife.”

The guardian answered her: “When this child becomes grown you will be old; that is, your days will be in the evening of life, while his place will be in the early morn. Will you not thereby have lasting cause for dissatisfaction and contention between you in the future?”

Kikihale answering her guardian said: “You are not to blame; these things are mine to consider, for the reason that the desire is mine, not yours, my guardian.”

After this talking the child was quickly known of among the chiefs and attendants. He was nourished and brought up to adult age, when Kikihale took him for her husband as she had said; and for a time they dwelt together as man and wife without disagreement between them. But during these days Kikihale saw plainly that her husband was not disposed to do anything for their support; therefore she mourned over it continually and angrily reproved him, finally, saying:

“O my husband, can you not go forth also, as others, to assist our father and the attendants in the duties of fishing, instead of eating till you are satisfied, then rolling over with face upward to the ridge-pole of the house and counting the ahos [small sticks used in thatching]? It may do while my father is alive; but if he should die, whence would come our support?” Thus she spoke reproachingly from day to day, and the words stung Puniaiki’s heart with much pain.

And this is what he said to his wife one day: “It is unpleasant to hear you constantly talking thus. Not as wild animals is the catching of fish in the sea; they are obedient if called, and you may eat wastefully of my fish when procured. I have authority over fish, men, pigs, and dogs. If you are a favorite of your father then go to him for double canoes, with their fishing appurtenances, and men to paddle them.”

When Kikihale heard these words of her husband she hastened to Kou, her father, and told him all that Puniaiki had said, and the request was promptly executed. Kikihale returned to her husband and told him all she had done.

On Puniaiki’s going down to the canoe place he found the men were making ready the canoes with the nets, rods, lines, and the pearl fish-hooks. Here he lit a fire and burned up the pearl fish-hooks, at which his wife was much angered and cried loudly for the hiaku pearl hooks of her father. She went and told Kou of this mischievous action of her husband, but he answered her not a word at this act of his son-in-law, though he had supplied five gourds filled with them, a thousand in number, and the strangest thing was, that all were burned up save two only which Kou had reserved.

That night Puniaiki slept apart from his wife, and he told the canoe paddlers to sleep in the canoe sheds, not to go to their homes that night; and they obeyed his voice.

It was Kou’s habit to rouse his men before break of day to sail in the malaus for aku fishing at the mouth of the harbor, for that was their feeding-time, not after the sun had risen. Thus would the canoes enter the schools of aku and this chief became famous thereby as a most successful fisherman. But on this day was seen the sorcerer’s work of this child of Aiai.

As Kou with his men set out always before dawn, here was this Puniaiki above at his place at sunrise. At this time on his awaking from sleep he turned his face mountainward, and looking at Kaumakapili he saw a rainbow and its reddish mist spread out at that place, wherein was standing a human form. He felt conscious that it was Aiai his father, therefore he went there and Aiai showed him the place of the pa (fish-hook) called Kahuai, and he said to his son: “Here will I stay till you return; be quick.”

Upon Puniaiki reaching the landing the canoes were quickly made ready to depart, and as they reached Kapapoko and Pakaka, at the sea of Kuloloia, they went on to Ulukua, now the lighthouse location of Honolulu harbor. At this place Puniaiki asked the paddlers: “What is the name of that surf cresting beneath the prow of our canoes?”

“Puuiki,” replied the men.

He then said to them: “Point straight the prow of the canoes and paddle with strength.” At these words of Puniaiki their minds were in doubt, because there were probably no akus at that place in the surf; but that was none of their business. As they neared the breakers of Puuiki, below the mouth of Mamala, Puniaiki said to his men: “Turn the canoes around and go shorewards.” And in returning he said quickly, “Paddle strong, for here we are on the top of a school of akus.” But strange to say, as the men looked in the water they saw no fish swimming about, but on reaching Ulakua Puniaiki opened up the fish-hook, Kahuai, from its wrapping in the gourd and held it in his hand.

At this the akus, unprecedented in number, fairly leaped into the canoes. They became so filled with the fish, without labor, that they sank in the water as they reached Kapuukolo, and the men jumped overboard to float them to the beach. The canoe men wondered greatly at this work of the son-in-law of Kou the chief; and the shore people shouted as the akus which filled the harbor swam toward the fishpond of Kuwili and on to the mouth of Leleo stream.

When the canoes touched shore Puniaiki seized two fishes in his hands and went to join his father where he was staying, and Aiai directed him to take them up to where his mother lived. These akus were not gifts for her, but an offering to Ku-ula at a ko’a established just above Kahuailanawai. Puniaiki obeyed the instructions of his father, and on returning to him he was sent back to his mother, Puiwa, with a supply of akus. She was greatly surprised that this handsome young man, with his gift of akus for her to eat, was her own son, and these were the first fruits of his labor.

The people marvelled at the quantity of fish throughout the harbor, so that even the stream at Kikihale was also full of akus, and Puniaiki commanded the people to take of them day and night; and the news of this visit of akus went all around Oahu. This unequalled haul of akus was a great humiliation to Kou, affecting his fame as a fisherman; but he was neither jealous of his son-in-law nor angry,–he just sat silent. He thought much on the subject but with kindly feelings, resulting in turning over this employment to him who could prosecute it without worry.

Shortly afterwards Aiai arranged with Puniaiki for the establishing of ku-ulas, ko’as, and fish stones around the island of Oahu, which were as follows:

The Kou stone was for Honolulu and Kaumakapili; a ku-ula at Kupahu; a fish stone at Hanapouli, Ewa. Ahuena was the ku-ula for Waipio; two were assigned for Honouliuli. Hani-o was the name of the ko’a outside of Kalaeloa; Kua and Maunalahilahi for Waianae; Kamalino for Waimea; and Kaihukuuna for Laiemaloo, Koolau.

Aiai and his son also visited Kauai and Niihau on this work, then they turned and went together to Hawaii. The principal or most noted fishing-grounds there are: Poo-a, Kahaka, and Olelomoana at Kona; Kalae at Kau; Kupakea at Puna, and I at Hilo.

In former times at most of these fishing-grounds were seen multitudes and varieties of fish, all around the islands, and occasionally deep sea kinds came close in shore, but in this new era there are not so many. Some people say it is on account of the change of the times.


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