The Poor Fisherman and His Wife

A poor fisherman and his wife catch an unusual fish they believe to be a priest, sparking fear of retribution. Misinterpreting festive bell sounds as a manhunt, they flee in terror. Returning home, they panic at more bells, mount a tied horse, and mistakenly think falling fruit are gunshots. Overwhelmed by fear, they tragically die, illustrating the perils of misunderstanding and paranoia.

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


► Themes of the story

Illusion vs. Reality: The couple’s inability to distinguish between their fears and actual events drives the plot, highlighting the dangers of misperception.

Tragic Flaw: Their overwhelming paranoia and tendency to jump to conclusions without seeking the truth lead to their untimely demise.

Community and Isolation: The couple’s fear isolates them from their community, leading them to flee and ultimately contributing to their tragic end.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about Philippines peoples


Many, many years ago a poor fisherman and his wife lived with their three sons in a village by the sea. One day the old man set his snare in the water not far from his house, and at night when he went to look at it, he found that he had caught a great white fish. This startled the old man very much, for he had never seen a fish like this before, and it occurred to him that it was the priest of the town.

He ran to his wife as fast as he could and cried: “My wife, I have caught the priest.”

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“What?” said the old woman, terrified at the sight of her frightened husband.

“I have caught the priest,” said the old man again.

They hurried together to the river where the snare was set, and when the old woman saw the fish, she cried:

“Oh, it is not the priest but the governor.”

“No, it is the priest,” insisted the old man, and they went home trembling with fear.

That night neither of them was able to sleep for thought of the terrible thing that had happened and wondering what they should do. Now the next day was a great holiday in the town. At four o’clock in the morning cannons were fired and bells rang loudly. The old man and woman, hearing all the noise and not knowing the reason for it, thought that their crime had been discovered, and the people were searching for them to punish them, so they set out as fast as they could to hide in the woods. On and on they went, stopping only to rest so as to enable them to resume their flight.

The next morning they reached the woods near Pilar, where there also was a great holiday, and the sexton was ringing the bells to call the people to mass. As soon as the old man and woman heard the bells they thought the people there had been notified of their escape, and that they, too, were trying to catch them. So they turned and started home again.

As they reached their house, the three sons came home with their one horse and tied it to the trunk of the caramay tree. Presently the bells began to ring again, for it was twelve o’clock at noon. Not thinking what time of day it was, the old man and woman ran out of doors in terror, and seeing the horse jumped on its back with the intention of riding to the next town before anyone could catch them. When they had mounted they began to whip the horse. In their haste, they had forgotten to untie the rope which was around the trunk of the caramay tree. As the horse pulled at the rope fruit fell from the tree upon the old man and woman. Believing they were shot, they were so frightened that they died.


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The Story of Sayen

In a dark forest, the wizened Alan bore a brave son, Sayen, who sought a beautiful wife, Danepan, but was deceived into marrying her servant, Laey. Upon learning the truth, he caused Laey’s death and married Danepan. Known for his valor, Sayen vanquished a deadly spirit, Komow, and allied with the warrior spirit Kaboniyan to conquer towns. Ultimately, his shapeshifting abilities failed him, leading to his capture and death.

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 initial deception by Laey, who poses as Danepan, and Sayen’s subsequent realization and actions highlight themes of deceit and cleverness.

Revenge and Justice: Sayen’s response to the deceit and his actions against the Komow reflect themes of retribution and the pursuit of justice.

Tragic Flaw: Sayen’s eventual downfall due to his overreliance on his shapeshifting abilities illustrates a character flaw leading to his demise.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about Philippines peoples


In the depths of a dark forest where people seldom went, lived a wizened old Alan. The skin on her wrinkled face was as tough as a carabao hide, and her long arms with fingers pointing back from the wrist were horrible to look at. Now this frightful creature had a son whose name was Sayen, and he was as handsome as his mother was ugly. He was a brave man, also, and often went far away alone to fight. On these journeys Sayen sometimes met beautiful girls, and though he wanted to marry, he could not decide upon one. Hearing that one Danepan was more beautiful than any other, he determined to go and ask her to be his wife.

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Now Danepan was very shy, and when she heard that Sayen was coming to her house she hid behind the door and sent her servant, Laey, out to meet him. And so it happened that Sayen, not seeing Danepan, married Laey, thinking that she was her beautiful mistress. He took her away to a house he had built at the edge of the forest, for though he wished to be near his old home, he dared not allow his bride to set eyes on his ugly mother.

For some time they lived happily together here, and then one day when Sayen was making a plow under his house, he heard Laey singing softly to their baby in the room above, and this is what she sang:

“Sayen thinks I am Danepan, but Laey I am. Sayen thinks I am Danepan, but Laey I am.”

When Sayen heard this he knew that he had been deceived, and he pondered long what he should do.

The next morning he went to the field to plow, for it was near the rice-planting time. Before he left the house he called to his wife:

“When the sun is straight above, you and the baby bring food to me, for I shall be busy in the field.”

Before he began to plow, however, he cut the bamboo supports of the bridge which led to the field, so that when Laey and the baby came with his food, they had no sooner stepped on the bridge than it went down with them and they were drowned. Sayen was again free. He took his spear and his shield and head-ax and went at once to the town of Danepan, and there he began killing the people on all sides.

Terror spread through the town. No one could stop his terrible work of destruction until Danepan came down out of her house, and begged him to spare part of the people that she might have some from whom to borrow fire. Her great beauty amazed him and he ceased killing, and asked her to prepare some betel-nut for him to chew, as he was very tired. She did so, and when he had chewed the nut he spat on the people he had killed and they came to life again. Then he married Danepan and took her to his home.

Now it happened about this time that the people of Magosang were in great trouble. At the end of a successful hunt, while they were dividing the meat among themselves, the Komow, a murderous spirit that looks like a man, would come to them and ask how many they had caught. If they answered, “Two,” then he would say that he had caught two also; and when they went home, they would find two people in the town dead. As often as they went to hunt the Komow did this, and many of the people of Magosang were dead and those living were in great fear. Finally they heard of the brave man, Sayen, and they begged him to help them. Sayen listened to all they told, and then said:

“I will go with you to hunt, and while you are dividing the meat, I will hide behind the trees. When the Komow comes to ask how many deer you have, he will smell me, but you must say that you do not know where I am,”

So the people went to hunt, and when they had killed two deer, they singed them over a fire and began to divide them. Just then the Komow arrived and said:

“How many have you?”

“We have two,” replied the people.

“I have two also,” said the Komow, “but I smell Sayen.”

“We do not know where Sayen is,” answered the people; and just then he sprang out and killed the Komow, and the people were greatly relieved.

Now when Kaboniyan, a great spirit, heard what Sayen had done, he went to him and said:

“Sayen you are a brave man because you have killed the Komow, Tomorrow I will fight with you. You must remain on the low ground by the river, and I will go to the hill above.”

So the following day Sayen went to the low ground by the river. He had not waited long before he heard a great sound like a storm, and he knew that Kaboniyan was coming. He looked up, and there stood the great warrior, poising his spear which was as large as a big tree.

“Are you brave, Sayen?” called he in a voice like thunder as he threw the weapon.

“Yes,” answered Sayen, and he caught the spear.

This surprised Kaboniyan, and he threw his head-ax which was as large as the roof of a house, and Sayen caught that also. Then Kaboniyan saw that this was indeed a brave man, and he went down to Sayen and they fought face to face until both were tired, but neither could overcome the other.

When Kaboniyan saw that in Sayen he had found one as strong and brave even as himself, he proposed that they go together to fight the people of different towns. And they started out at once. Many people were killed by this strong pair, and why they themselves could never be captured was a great mystery. For it was not known that one was the spirit Kaboniyan, and the other the son of an Alan.

If he was surrounded in a river, Sayen would become a fish and hide so that people could not find him. And if he was entrapped in a town, he would become a chicken and go under the house in a chicken-coop. In this way he escaped many times.

Finally one night after he had killed many in one town, the people decided to watch him, and they saw him go to roost with the chickens. The next day they placed a fish trap under the house near the chicken-coop, and that night when Sayen went under the house he was caught in the trap and killed.


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Barber Hím and the Tigers

A poor barber named Hím cunningly deceived tigers in a jungle by claiming he was sent to capture or harm them. Frightened, the tigers gave him gold and jewels to spare them. Enriched, he revisited, escalating his ruse each time. Despite close calls, including a fatal mishap involving a companion fakír, Hím avoided the jungle thereafter and lived a prosperous life.

Source
Indian Fairy Tales
collected and translated by Maive Stokes
Ellis & White, London, 1880


► Themes of the story

Cunning and Deception: Barber Hím cleverly deceives the tigers by pretending to be sent to capture them, thereby securing gold and jewels in exchange for their safety.

Trials and Tribulations: Hím faces various challenges, such as confronting the tigers and dealing with the aftermath of his deceit, highlighting the difficulties arising from dishonest actions.

Tragic Flaw: Hím’s greed and overconfidence in his deceptive abilities ultimately lead to perilous situations, illustrating how personal flaws can result in one’s downfall.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Hindu people


Told by Dunkní

Once there lived a barber called Hím, who was very poor indeed. He had a wife and twelve children, five boys and seven girls: now and then he got a few pice. One day he went away from his home feeling very cross, and left his wife and children to get on as best they could. “What can I do?” said he. “I have not enough money to buy food for my family, and they are crying for it.” And so he walked on till he came to a jungle. It was night when he got there. This jungle was called the “tigers’ jungle,” because only tigers lived in it; no birds, no insects, no other animals, and there were four hundred tigers in it altogether. As soon as Barber Hím reached the jungle he saw a great tiger walking about.

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“What shall I do?” cried he. “This tiger is sure to eat me.” And he took his razor and his razor-strap, and began to sharpen his razor. Then he went close up to the tiger, still sharpening his razor. The tiger was much frightened. “What shall I do?” said the tiger; “this man will certainly gash me.” “I have come,” said the barber, “to catch twenty tigers by order of Mahárájá Káns. You are one, and I want nineteen more.” The tiger, greatly alarmed, answered, “If you won’t catch us, I will give you as much gold and as many jewels as you can carry.” For these tigers used to go out and carry off the men and women from the villages, and some of these people had rupees, and some had jewels, all of which the tigers used to collect together. “Good,” said Hím, “then I won’t catch you.” The tiger led him to the spot where all the tigers used to eat their dinners, and the barber took as much gold and as many jewels as he could carry, and set off home with them.

Then he built a house, and bought his children pretty clothes and good food, and necklaces, and they all lived very happily for some time. But at last he wanted more rupees, so he set off to the tigers’ jungle. There he met the tiger as he did before, and he told him the Mahárájá Káns had sent him to catch twenty tigers. The tiger was terrified and said, “If you will only not catch us, I will give you more gold and jewels.” To this the barber agreed, and the tiger led him to the old spot, and the barber took as many jewels and rupees as he could carry. Then he returned home.

One day a very poor man, a fakír, said to him, “How did you manage to become so rich? In old days you were so poor you could hardly support your family.”

“I will tell you,” said Hím. And he told him all about his visits to the tigers’ jungle. “But don’t you go there for gold to-night,” continued the barber. “Let me go and listen to the tigers talking. If you like, you can come with me. Only you must not be frightened if the tigers roar.”

“I’ll not be frightened,” said the fakír.

So that evening at eight o’clock they went to the tigers’ jungle. There the barber and the fakír climbed into a tall thick tree, and its leaves came all about them and sheltered them as if they were in a house. The tigers used to hold their councils under this tree. Very soon all the tigers in the jungle assembled together under it, and their Rájá–a great, huge beast, with only one eye–came too. “Brothers,” said the tiger who had given the barber the rupees and jewels, “a man has come here twice to catch twenty of us for the Mahárájá Káns; now we are only four hundred in number, and if twenty of us were taken away we should be only a small number, so I gave him each time as many rupees and jewels as he could carry and he went away again. What shall we do if he returns?” The tigers said they would meet again on the morrow, and then they would settle the matter. Then the tigers went off, and the barber and the fakír came down from the tree. They took a quantity of rupees and jewels and returned to their homes.

“To-morrow,” said they, “we will come again and hear what the tigers say.”

The next day the barber went alone to the tigers’ jungle, and there he met his tiger again. “This time,” said he, “I am come to cut off the ears of all the four hundred tigers who live in this jungle; for Mahárájá Káns wants them to make into medicine.”

The tiger was greatly frightened, much more so than at the other times. “Don’t cut off our ears; pray don’t,” said he, “for then we could not hear, and it would hurt so horribly. Go and cut off all the dogs’ ears instead, and I will give you rupees and jewels as much as two men can carry.” “Good,” said the barber, and he made two journeys with the rupees and jewels from the jungle to the borders of his village, and there he got a cooly to help him to carry them to his house.

At night he and the fakír went again to the great tree under which the tigers held their councils. Now the tiger who had given the barber so many rupees and jewels had made ready a great quantity of meat, fowls, chickens, geese, men the tigers had killed–everything he had been able to get hold of–and he made them into a heap under the tree, for he said that after the tigers had settled the matter they would dine. Soon the tigers arrived with their Rájá, and the barber’s tiger said, “Brothers, what are we to do? This man came again to-day to cut off all our ears to make medicine for Mahárájá Káns. I told him this would be a bad business for us, and that he must go and cut off all the dogs’ ears instead; and I gave him as much money and jewels as two men could carry. So he went home. Now what shall we do? We must leave this jungle, and where shall we go?” The other tigers said, “We will not leave the jungle. If this man comes again we will eat him up.” So they dined and went away, saying they would meet again to-morrow.

After the tigers had gone, the barber and fakír came down from the tree and went off to their homes, without taking any rupees or jewels with them. They agreed to return the next evening.

Next evening back they came and climbed into the great tree. The tigers came too, and the barber’s tiger told his story all over again. The tiger Rájá sat up and said, fiercely, “We will not leave this jungle. Should the man come again, I will eat him myself.” When the fakír heard this he was so frightened that he tumbled down out of the tree into the midst of the tigers. The barber instantly cried out with a loud voice, “Now cut off their ears! cut off their ears!” and the tigers, terrified, ran away as fast as they could. Then the barber took the fakír home, but the poor man was so much hurt by his fall that he died.

The barber lived happily ever after, but he took good care never to go to the tigers’ jungle again.


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The Cat Which Could Not Be Killed

A dog repeatedly tries to harm a resilient cat who remains unhurt despite his efforts and mockingly dances away each time. Seeking help from various animals and even a man, the dog’s allies fail to harm the clever cat, often suffering in return. Frustrated and defeated, the dog ultimately dies in despair, while the unscathed and victorious cat rejoices with her friends.

Source
Indian Fairy Tales
collected and translated by Maive Stokes
Ellis & White, London, 1880


► Themes of the story

Cunning and Deception: The cat consistently outsmarts the dog and other animals, using her wit to evade harm and turn situations to her advantage.

Moral Lessons: The narrative imparts lessons on the futility of malice and the virtue of cleverness in overcoming adversity.

Tragic Flaw: The dog’s persistent aggression and inability to recognize the cat’s superiority lead to his ultimate demise, illustrating the consequences of hubris.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Hindu people


Told by Dunkní at Simla, July 26th, 1876

There were once a dog and a cat, who were always quarrelling. The dog used to beat the cat, but he never could hurt her. She would only dance about and cry, “You never hurt me, you never hurt me! I had a pain in my shoulder, but now it is all gone away.” So the dog went to a mainá [a kind of starling] and said, “What shall I do to hurt this cat? I beat her and I bite her, and yet I can’t hurt her. I am such a big dog and she is rather a big cat, yet if I beat her I don’t hurt her, but if she beats me she hurts me so much.” The mainá said, “Bite her mouth very, very hard, and then you’ll hurt her.” “Oh, no,” said the cat, who had just come up, laughing; “you won’t hurt me at all.”

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The dog bit her mouth as hard as he could. “Oh, you don’t hurt me,” said the cat, dancing about. So the dog went again to the mainá and said, “What shall I do?” “Bite her ears,” said the mainá. So the dog bit the cat’s ears, but she danced about and said, “Oh, you did not hurt me; now I can put earrings in my ears.” So she put in earrings.

The dog went to the elephant. “Can you kill this cat? she worries me so every day.” “Oh, yes,” said the elephant, “of course I can kill her. She is so little and I am so big.” Then the elephant came and took her up with his trunk, and threw her a long way. Up she jumped at once and danced about, saying, “You did not hurt me one bit. I had a pain, but now I am quite well.” Then the elephant got cross and said, “I’ll teach you to dance in another way than that,” and he took the cat and laid her on the ground and put his great foot on her. But she was not hurt at all. She danced about and said, “You did not hurt me one bit, not one bit,” and she dug her claws into the elephant’s trunk. The elephant ran away screaming, and he told the dog, “You had better beware of that cat. She belongs to the tiger tribe.” The dog felt very angry with the cat. “What shall I do,” said he, “to kill this cat?” And he bit her nose so hard that it bled. But she laughed at him. “Now I can put a ring in my nose,” said she. He got furious. “I’ll bite her tail in half,” said he. So he bit her tail in half, and yet he did not hurt her.

He then went to a leopard. “If you can kill this cat I will give you anything you want.” “Very well, I’ll kill her,” said the leopard. And they went together to the cat. “Stop,” said the cat to the leopard; “I want to speak to you first. I’ll give you something to eat, and then I’ll tell you what I want to say.” And then she ran off ever so far, and after she had run a mile she stopped and danced, calling out, “Oh! I’ll give you nothing to eat; you could not kill me.” The leopard went away very cross, and saying, “What a clever cat that is.”

The dog next went to a man, and said, “Can you kill this cat, she worries me so?” “Of course I can,” said the man; “I’ll stick this knife into her stomach.” And he stuck his knife into the cat’s stomach, but the cat jumped up, and her stomach closed, and the man went home.

And the dog went to a bear. “Can you kill this cat? I can’t.” “I’ll kill her,” said the bear; so he stuck all his claws into the cat, but he didn’t hurt her; and she stuck her claws into the bear’s nose so deep that he died immediately.

Then the poor dog felt very unhappy, and went and threw himself into a hole, and there he died, while the cat went away to her friends.


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The Singing Bird of Heaven

Ama Terassu, Goddess of the Sun, commands her August Child, the Conqueror, to rule the Land of Reed Plains. However, strife prevents his descent. The gods send others, including the Young Prince, who becomes entangled in earthly love and forgets his divine mission. Deceived, he slays Heaven’s Singing Bird, and in consequence, a returning arrow pierces his heart, leading to his tragic death and Heaven’s sorrow.

Source
Japanese Fairy Tales
by Grace James
Macmillan & Co., London, 1912


► Themes of the story

Love and Betrayal: The Young Prince becomes entangled in earthly love with the Princess Undershining, leading him to neglect his divine mission and betray the expectations of the heavenly deities.

Prophecy and Fate: The narrative revolves around the destined role of the August Child to rule the land, and the consequences of deviating from this fate.

Tragic Flaw: The Young Prince’s susceptibility to earthly desires and emotions leads to his downfall, highlighting a fatal weakness in his character.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about Japanese Mythology & Folklore


Ama Terassu, the Glorious, the Light of High Heaven, commanded, saying, “His Augustness, my August Child, who is called the Conqueror, shall descend to the land. For it is a Land of Luxuriant Reed Plains, a Land of Fresh Rice Ears, a Land of a Thousand Autumns. So of this land he shall be king.”

Now his Augustness, the August Child, the Conqueror, stood upon the Floating Bridge of Heaven and looked down, and he saw that there was a great unquietness upon the Land of the Reed Plains. For earthly deities made strife, and blood ran, and fearful sounds of war arose, even to High Heaven.

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So the August Child, the heavenly born, turned back across the Floating Bridge, and swore he would not descend to rule the land until it should be cleansed.

And Ama Terassu, the Light of High Heaven, who had the sun set fast between her eyes, bound her head with jewels, and gathered the deities together in a divine assembly, to hold council in the Tranquil River Bed. And she spoke and said, “Who shall subdue the land that I have given to the August Child?”

And all the deities cried, “O Thine Augustness, send down the Lord of Spears.” Therefore the Lord of Spears went lightly down by the Floating Bridge; and there were bound upon his back eight hundred spears. Howbeit, he made a truce with the Lord of the Reed Plains and tarried there; and for three years there was no report.

Therefore, once more the Queen of Heaven called him whom the gods name Wonderful, and she called the Lord of Deep Thoughts, and likewise she called every deity of Heaven, and they came to council in the Tranquil River Bed, so that upon the sand there was left the print of their august feet. And Ama Terassu said, “Behold now the Lord of Spears is faithless. Whom shall we send to rule the land?” And the Young Prince answered, “O Mother of Heaven, Thine Augustness, send me.” And all the deities assented with one accord and cried, “Send him, send him,” till there was a sound like thunder in the River Bed.

So the Young Prince bound on his sandals, and they brought to him the great bow that stands in the Hall of High Heaven, and bestowed it upon him, and they gave him many heavenly-feathered arrows. So they made him ready, and they brought him to the Floating Bridge. And the Young Prince descended lightly, while his garments shone with the glory of Heaven. But when he touched the tops of the high hills, his heart beat fast and his blood ran warm. Therefore he cut the fastening of his sandals and cast them behind him, and he ran upon his bare feet, like an earthly deity, and came to the palace upon the Reed Plains.

Now, at the door of the palace the Princess Undershining stood, like a growing flower. So the Young Prince beheld her and loved her, and he built him a dwelling upon the Reed Plains, and took the Princess for his bride. And, because he loved her and her earthly children, he brought no report to High Heaven, and he forgot the waiting deities. For Heaven was vague to him as a dream.

But the gods were weary.

And Ama Terassu said, “Long, long tarries our messenger, and brings no word again. My Lord, the August Child, waxes impatient; whom now shall we send?” Thereupon, all the deities, and the Lord of Deep Thoughts, replied, “Send down the Singing Bird, the beloved of High Heaven.”

So Ama Terassu took the golden Singing Bird, and said, “Sweet music of the divine gods, spread thou thy bright wings, and fly to the Land of Reed Plains, and there search out the Young Prince, the messenger of Heaven, and, when thou hast found him, sing in his ear this song: ‘Ama Terassu, the Goddess of the Sun, has sent me saying, How fares the quest of High Heaven, and how fares the message? Where is the report of the gods?’”

So the bird departed, singing. And she came to the Land of the Reed Plains, and perched upon the branch of a fair cassia tree which grew hard by the Young Prince’s dwelling. Day and night, she sang, and the gods in Heaven thought long for their sweet Singing Bird. Howbeit she returned not again, but sat upon the branch of the cassia tree.

But the Young Prince gave no heed.

And She that Speaketh Evil heard the words that the bird sang. And she whispered in the Young Prince’s ear, “See now, my lord, this is an evil bird, and evil is its cry; therefore take thou thine arrows and go forth and slay it.” So she urged continually, and, by glamour, she prevailed upon him. Then the Young Prince arose, and took his bow and his heavenly-feathered arrows, and he let fly an arrow into the branches of the cassia tree. And suddenly the sweet sound of singing ceased, and the golden bird fell dead, for the aim was true.

But the heavenly-feathered arrow took wing and pierced the floor of Heaven, and reached the high place, where sat the Sun Goddess, together with her August Counsellors, in the Tranquil River Bed of Heaven. And the god called Wonderful took up the arrow, and beheld the blood upon its feathers. And the Lord of Deep Thoughts said, “This is the arrow that was given to the Young Prince,” and he showed it to all the deities. And he said, “If the Young Prince has shot this arrow at the evil deities, according to our command, let it do him no hurt. But, if his heart be not pure, then let the Young Prince perish by this arrow.” And he hurled the arrow back to earth.

Now the Young Prince lay upon a couch, sleeping. And the arrow fell, and pierced his heart that he died.

Yet the sweet Singing Bird of Heaven returned no more; and the gods were sorrowful.

Howbeit, the Young Prince lay dead upon his bed; and the wailing of his spouse, the Princess Undershining, re-echoed in the wind, and was heard in Heaven. So the Young Prince’s father descended with cries and lamentations, and there was built a mourning house upon the Land of Reed Plains, and the Young Prince was laid there.

And there came to mourn for him the wild goose of the river, and the pheasant, and the kingfisher. And they mourned for him eight days and eight nights.


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

The Story of the Sun-Child

The tale tells of the Sun-child, born to a beautiful, hidden maiden loved by the Sun. Mocked by other boys for his unknown father, he learns of his divine parentage and sets out to meet the Sun. Despite warnings, he disobeys his father’s instructions, seeking “Monuia” from the Moon. His impatience leads him to unwrap the gift at sea, causing his tragic death as fish overwhelm him.

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

Prophecy and Fate: The Sun-child’s destiny is influenced by his divine parentage, leading him on a predetermined path to seek out his father.

Trials and Tribulations: The Sun-child faces challenges, including mockery from peers and the perilous journey to meet his father.

Tragic Flaw: The Sun-child’s impatience and disobedience lead to his untimely death, serving as a cautionary element in the tale.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Fijians


by the Lord of Naiau

In the old days there was a great chief in Tonga, whose name has not come down to us; and he had a daughter whose name also has not been told us by our fathers, so that we always speak of her as the Mother of the Sun-child (Jiji-matailaa).

Now this girl was beautiful exceedingly, and her father hid her from the eyes of men, so that none should look upon her; for he had never seen one whom he thought worthy to be her husband.

Down on the sea-beach he built a fence, thick and strong and high, and this was where the Mother of the Sun-child used to go down and bathe.

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Every day she bathed herself in the salt water, till she grew wondrous fair; and amongst all the daughters of men there was not one so beautiful as the Mother of the Sun-child. After bathing it was her custom to lie down for a time upon the clean white sand within the fence, that she might rest for a while, and that her body might be dry. So it came to pass that the Sun looked upon her, and saw her, and loved her; and in the course of time a child was born to her, whose name she called the Sun-child.

And the child grew up into a fine lad, comely and strong; proud, too, was he, and given to strike other children, like the son of a great chief. So one day, when all the town lads were playing together in the public square, some of them did something that was displeasing to the Sun-child, whereupon he beat them with a stick till his arm was weary and their bodies were sore.

Then the lads rose up against him, saying, “Who perchance, then, are you, child of the Sun? Why should you take upon yourself to beat us? We know who are our fathers; but you — you have no father: you are but a ‘child of the path,’ a bastard!”

Then was the boy eaten up by a devouring rage. Gladly would he have leaped upon them and killed them, but he could not stir, so great was his rage; his voice, too, was choked, and his eyes filled with angry tears.

Thus he stood, glaring upon them, till, with a sudden cry, he turned and fled away to his home. And seeing there his mother within the house, he rushed up to her, seizing her by the arm, and cried aloud, “What is this, mother, that the boys of the town have been saying to me? Who, then, is my father?” and, with a loud and bitter cry, he burst into a passion of tears.

“Hush, my son,” said his mother. “The boys of the town are liars. Let not your soul be small because of their words, for you are the child of a greater chief than they.”

“Who, then, is my father?” asked the lad once more, looking up with streaming eyes; and his mother laughed a scornful laugh as she answered.

“Who, then, are the boys of the town, that they should despise my son? They are the children of men, but you are the child of the Sun; he is your father.” And she told him all.

Then was the heart of the Sun-child glad within him, and, dashing away his tears, he cried: “I scorn them, these children of men! No more will I talk with them, or live with them. Good-bye, mother, for I am going to my father.” And, with a proud step, he went on his way, not even turning his head when his mother called after him; so she watched him going, till the forest hid him from her sight, and after that she saw him no more for ever.

For the lad went along through the dark wood till he came to where his canoe was lying on the beach, and there, sitting down, he made for himself a sail of magi-magi or sinnet, plaited out of coconut fibre, and, when the tide came in, he launched his canoe and sailed away to visit his father the Sun.

It was morning when he hoisted his sail and steered towards the east, where the sun was rising; but, as he sailed along, it rose higher and higher above his head; and he shouted aloud, but his father heard him not. Then he tacked, and stood over to the west, whither the sun was hastening; but, though the wind was fair, he was too late, and his father dived down beneath the waters before he could come near enough to speak with him; so that he was left alone in the midst of the sea.

Then he thought within himself: “It is in the east that my father climbs up out of the water. I will now go back and wait for him there.” So he tacked again, sailing all night towards the east, and when morning dawned he saw the Sun close to him, and shouted aloud, just as it was rising above the waves, “Father, father; here am I!”

“Who are you? “ asked the Sun, still climbing up into the sky.

“I am the Sun-child,” cried the lad. “You know me. I am your son, and my mother is left behind in Tonga. Stay but a little, my father, and talk with me.”

“I cannot stay,” said the Sun, still rising higher and higher, “for the children of earth have already seen my face, and how then can I stay to talk with you? If you had only been here a little earlier! Farewell, my son, for I must go.”

“Stay, my father,” cried the Sun-child. “It is easy, even though the children of earth have seen you. Hide but your face behind a cloud, and then you can come down to me here.”

Then the Sun laughed, and said, “Truly you are wise, my child; great is your wisdom, though you are but a boy.” So he called up a cloud, behind which he slipped down again to the sea, and there greeted his son, asking him about his mother, and telling him many useful things, which it would be well for us to know, but the knowledge whereof we have lost through this lad’s disobedience.

At last he told him that he could stay no longer. “And now, my son,” said he, “listen to my words. Stay about here till the night comes over the waters, and then you will see your aunt, the Moon, my sister. When she begins to rise out of the sea, call out to her and tell her to give you one of the two things which she has in keeping. One of them is called ‘Melaia,’ and the name of the other is ‘Monuia.’ Ask her for ‘Melaia,’ and she will give it to you. Remember now my words, and follow them, that it may be well with you; for know that evil will assuredly befall you if you are disobedient.”

So the Sun leaped up above the black cloud, and the world was glad, but the children of men said one to another —

“Surely the Sun is climbing up into the sky more slowly to-day than on other days;” and the Sun-child furled his sail, and, lying down in the folds thereof, slept till evening.

Then he woke up again and hoisted his sail, in readiness to hasten to the spot where he should first see the brightness of his aunt’s face, so that he was close upon the Moon before she could rise above the waters; and she cried, “Luff! Luff! child of the earth. Luff! or you will pierce my face with the sharp stem of your canoe,”

But the Sun-child kept his canoe away a little with the steering-oar, so that he almost touched the Moon’s face in passing; and then luffing suddenly into the wind, he shot up alongside of her, and caught her with a firm hold, saying, “I am no child of the earth. The child of your brother, the Sun, am L My name is the Sun-child, and you are my aunt.”

“Are you indeed the Sun-child?” asked the Moon in great surprise. “Truly this is a wonderful thing. But loosen your hold, my nephew, for you are pinching me.”

“Ah, but,” said the lad, “ if I let you go you will leave me; and then how am I to get that from you for which my father told me to ask?”

“Indeed I will not leave you, my nephew,” said the Moon with great earnestness. “Truly my heart is glad that you are come. Only let go your hold, for indeed it hurts.” So the Sun-child loosed his hold.

“But what was it,” continued the Moon, “ that your father told you to ask of me?”

Now the Sun-child had made up his mind not to act according to his father’s words; for indeed it was his custom to be disobedient — a high-spirited, headstrong boy was he — so he said —

“My father told me to ask for ‘ Monuia.’ “

“For ‘Monuia ‘!” cried his aunt. “’Monuia’! Do you not perhaps forget, my nephew, your father’s words? Was it not ‘Melaia’ that he told you to ask for?”

“Indeed it was not,” said the lad stoutly. “He told me that ‘Melaia’ was to stay with you, and that I should have ‘Monuia.’ “

“Truly that is strange,” said the Moon musingly. “Surely the Sun cannot hate the boy, and wish to kill him. Nevertheless I must obey his commands. You shall have ‘Monuia,’ my nephew. See, it is but a little thing. It is here wrapped up in this piece of cloth. Now I wrap it in another wrapper, and fasten it with this string, winding it many times around, so that it cannot come loose of itself. Take it, my nephew, and remember these my words: Loose not the string, neither unfold the wrapper while you are at sea; but hoist your sail at once, and steer for Tonga. When you have landed then look at ‘Monuia,’ but not before, or a great and terrible evil will befall you.

So she bade him farewell, and climbed up into the sky, whereupon all who were sailing in the midst of the waters shouted for joy, and said, “There is our friend, the Moon. It is only we who go sailing by that know how good she is.”

The girls also, and the boys in the towns, came running out of the houses, crying aloud, “Here is the Moon; come, let us dance together in the public square.” And the Sun-child hoisted his sail and steered away for Tonga.

All that night, and the next day, and the following night also went he sailing over the waters, till on the morning of the second day he saw the land. Then he could wait no longer, for the Sun-child was of a self-willed, impatient spirit; and so he lifted the parcel which his aunt had given him from the bottom of the canoe, and untied the string wherewith it was bound. Then he unrolled the cloth, fold after fold, till he held “Monuia” in his hand. It was a pearl shell, beautiful exceedingly; not white like the shells in our land, but of a shining red, such as had never been seen before, and the like whereof no man has since beheld; and his heart was glad as he thought how the boys of his town would envy him when they saw it hanging round his neck. But while he was thus gazing upon it he heard a great rushing and splashing over the waters, and, looking up, he saw a multitude of fishes swimming hastily towards him — great whales, and sharks, and porpoises, and dolphins, and turtle, and every other kind of fish — a vast multitude. And they leaped upon him in their eagerness to get at “Monuia,” so that in one moment his canoe sank beneath the waves, and the sharks tore him to pieces, so there was an end of the Sun-child.


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The Shark-man, Nanaue

The tale of Nanaue, son of the Hawaiian shark god Kamohoalii, recounts his transformation from a curious child with a shark mouth on his back to a feared man-shark predator. Despite warnings, his upbringing instilled a dangerous appetite for human flesh, causing chaos across islands. Ultimately, he was captured and destroyed in Molokai after wreaking havoc, leaving lasting marks on Hawaiian landscapes and legends.

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


► Themes of the story

Tragic Flaw: Nanaue’s inherent craving for human flesh, inherited from his divine lineage, leads to his downfall, illustrating how an intrinsic weakness can result in tragedy.

Conflict with Nature: The narrative showcases the struggle between humans and the natural world, as Nanaue’s predatory actions disrupt communities and provoke fear.

Divine Punishment: Nanaue’s ultimate capture and destruction can be seen as retribution for his transgressions against human society, reflecting the consequences of defying moral boundaries.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Hawaiians


by Mrs. E.M. Nakuina

Kamohoalii, the King-shark of Hawaii and Maui, has several deep sea caves that he uses in turn as his habitat. There are several of these at the bottom of the palisades, extending from Waipio toward Kohala, on the island of Hawaii. A favorite one was at Koamano, on the mainland, and another was at Maiaukiu, the small islet just abreast of the valley of Waipio. It was the belief of the ancient Hawaiians that several of these shark gods could assume any shape they chose, the human form even, when occasion demanded. In the reign of Umi, a beautiful girl, called Kalei, living in Waipio, was very fond of shellfish, and frequently went to Kuiopihi for her favorite article of diet.

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She generally went in the company of other women, but if the sea was a little rough, and her usual companion was afraid to venture out on the wild and dangerous beach, she very often went alone rather than go without her favorite sea-shells.

In those days the Waipio River emptied over a low fall into a basin partly open to the sea; this basin is now completely filled up with rocks from some convulsion of nature, which has happened since then. In this was a deep pool, a favorite bathing-place for all Waipio. The King shark god, Kamohoalii, used to visit this pool very often to sport in the fresh waters of the Waipio River. Taking into account the many different tales told of the doings of this shark god, he must have had quite an eye for human physical beauty.

Kalei, as was to be expected from a strong, well-formed Hawaiian girl of those days, was an expert swimmer, a good diver, and noted for the neatness and grace with which she would lelekawa (jump from the rocks into deep water) without any splashing of water, which would happen to unskilful divers, from the awkward attitudes they would assume in the act of jumping.

It seems Kamohoalii, the King-shark, had noted the charms of the beautiful Kalei, and his heart, or whatever answers in place of it with fishes, had been captured by them. But he could not expect to make much of an impression on the maiden’s susceptibilities in propria persona, even though he was perfectly able to take her bodily into his capacious maw; so he must needs go courting in a more pleasing way. Assuming the form of a very handsome man, he walked on the beach one rather rough morning, waiting for the girl’s appearance.

Now the very wildness of the elements afforded him the chance he desired, as, though Kalei was counted among the most agile and quick of rock-fishers, that morning, when she did come, and alone, as her usual companions were deterred by the rough weather, she made several unsuccessful springs to escape a high threatening wave raised by the god himself; and apparently, if it had not been for the prompt and effective assistance rendered by the handsome stranger, she would have been swept out into the sea.

Thus an acquaintance was established. Kalei met the stranger from time to time, and finally became his wife.

Some little time before she expected to become a mother, her husband, who all this time would only come home at night, told her his true nature, and informing her that he would have to leave her, gave orders in regard to the bringing up of the future child. He particularly cautioned the mother never to let him be fed on animal flesh of any kind, as he would be born with a dual nature, and with a body that he could change at will.

In time Kalei was delivered of a fine healthy boy, apparently the same as any other child, but he had, besides the normal mouth of a human being, a shark’s mouth on his back between the shoulder blades. Kalei had told her family of the kind of being her husband was, and they all agreed to keep the matter of the shark-mouth on the child’s back a secret, as there was no knowing what fears and jealousies might be excited in the minds of the King or high chiefs by such an abnormal being, and the babe might be killed.

The old grandfather, far from heeding the warning given by Kamohoalii in the matter of animal diet, as soon as the boy, who was called Nanaue, was old enough to come under the taboo in regard to the eating of males, and had to take his meals at the mua house with the men of the family, took especial pains to feed him on dog meat and pork. He had a hope that his grandson would grow up to be a great, strong man, and become a famous warrior; and there was no knowing what possibilities lay before a strong, skilful warrior in those days. So he fed the boy with meat, whenever it was obtainable. The boy thrived, grew strong, big, and handsome as a young lama (Maba sandwicensis) tree.

There was another pool with a small fall of the Waipio River very near the house of Kalei, and the boy very often went into it while his mother watched on the banks. Whenever he got into the water he would take the form of a shark and would chase and eat the small fish which abounded in the pool. As he grew old enough to understand, his mother took especial pains to impress on him the necessity of concealing his shark nature from other people.

This place was also another favorite bathing-place of the people, but Nanaue, contrary to all the habits of a genuine Hawaiian, would never go in bathing with the others, but always alone; and when his mother was able, she used to go with him and sit on the banks, holding the kapa scarf, which he always wore to hide the shark-mouth on his back.

When he became a man, his appetite for animal diet, indulged in childhood, had grown so strong that a human being’s ordinary allowance would not suffice for him. The old grandfather had died in the meantime, so that he was dependent on the food supplied by his stepfather and uncles, and they had to expostulate with him on what they called his shark-like voracity. This gave rise to the common native nickname of a manohae (ravenous shark) for a very gluttonous man, especially in the matter of meat.

Nanaue used to spend a good deal of his time in the two pools, the one inland and the other opening into the sea. The busy-bodies (they had some in those days as well as now) were set to wondering why he always kept a kihei, or mantle, on his shoulders; and for such a handsomely shaped, athletic young man, it was indeed a matter of wonder and speculation, considering the usual attire of the youth of those days. He also kept aloof from all the games and pastimes of the young people, for fear that the wind or some active movement might displace the kapa mantle, and the shark-mouth be exposed to view.

About this time children and eventually grown-up people began to disappear mysteriously.

Nanaue had one good quality that seemed to redeem his apparent unsociability; he was almost always to be seen working in his mother’s taro or potato patch when not fishing or bathing. People going to the sea beach would have to pass these potato or taro patches, and it was Nanaue’s habit to accost them with the query of where they were going. If they answered, “To bathe in the sea,” or, “Fishing,” he would answer, “Take care, or you may disappear head and tail.” Whenever he so accosted any one it would not be long before some member of the party so addressed would be bitten by a shark.

If it should be a man or woman going to the beach alone, that person would never be seen again, as the shark-man would immediately follow, and watching for a favorable opportunity, jump into the sea. Having previously marked the whereabouts of the person he was after, it was an easy thing for him to approach quite close, and changing into a shark, rush on the unsuspecting person and drag him or her down into the deep, where he would devour his victim at his leisure. This was the danger to humanity which his king-father foresaw when he cautioned the mother of the unborn child about feeding him on animal flesh, as thereby an appetite would be evoked which they had no means of satisfying, and a human being would furnish the most handy meal of the kind that he would desire.

Nanaue had been a man grown some time, when an order was promulgated by Umi, King of Hawaii, for every man dwelling in Waipio to go to koele work, tilling a large plantation for the King. There were to be certain days in an anahulu (ten days) to be set aside for this work, when every man, woman, and child had to go and render service, excepting the very old and decrepit, and children in arms.

The first day every one went but Nanaue. He kept on working in his mother’s vegetable garden to the astonishment of all who saw him. This was reported to the King, and several stalwart men were sent after him. When brought before the King he still wore his kapa kihei or mantle.

The King asked him why he was not doing koele work with every one else. Nanaue answered he did not know it was required of him. Umi could not help admiring the bold, free bearing of the handsome man, and noting his splendid physique, thought he would make a good warrior, greatly wanted in those ages, and more especially in the reign of Umi, and simply ordered him to go to work.

Nanaue obeyed, and took his place in the field with the others, and proved himself a good worker, but still kept on his kihei, which it would be natural to suppose that he would lay aside as an incumbrance when engaged in hard labor. At last some of the more venturesome of the younger folks managed to tear his kapa off, as if accidentally, when the shark-mouth on his back was seen by all the people near.

Nanaue was so enraged at the displacement of his kapa and his consequent exposure, that he turned and bit several of the crowd, while the shark-mouth opened and shut with a snap, and a clicking sound was heard such as a shark is supposed to make when baulked by its prey.

The news of the shark-mouth and his characteristic shark-like actions were quickly reported to the King, with the fact of the disappearance of so many people in the vicinity of the pools frequented by Nanaue; and of his pretended warnings to people going to the sea, which were immediately followed by a shark bite or by their being eaten bodily, with every one’s surmise and belief that this man was at the bottom of all those disappearances. The King believed it was even so, and ordered a large fire to be lighted, and Nanaue to be thrown in to be burnt alive.

When Nanaue saw what was before him, he called on the shark god, his father, to help him; then, seeming to be endowed with superhuman strength in answer to his prayer, he burst the ropes with which he had been bound in preparation for the burning, and breaking through the throng of Umi’s warriors, who attempted to detain him, he ran, followed by the whole multitude, toward the pool that emptied into the sea. When he got to the edge of the rocks bordering the pool, he waited till the foremost persons were within arm’s length, when he leaped into the water and immediately turned into a large shark on the surface of the water, in plain view of the people who had arrived, and whose numbers were being continually augmented by more and more arrivals.

He lay on the surface some little time, as if to recover his breath, and then turned over on his back, and raising his head partly out of the water, snapped his teeth at the crowd who, by this time, completely lined the banks, and then, as if in derision or defiance of them, turned and flirted his tail at them and swam out to sea.

The people and chiefs were for killing his mother and relatives for having brought up such a monster. Kalei and her brothers were seized, bound, and dragged before Umi, while the people clamored for their immediate execution, or as some suggested, that they be thrown into the fire lighted for Nanaue.

But Umi was a wise king and would not consent to any such summary proceedings, but questioned Kalei in regard to her fearful offspring. The grieved and frightened mother told everything in connection with the paternity and bringing up of the child, and with the warning given by the dread sea-father.

Umi considered that the great sea god Kamohoalii was on the whole a beneficent as well as a powerful one. Should the relatives and mother of that shark god’s son be killed, there would then be no possible means of checking the ravages of that son, who might linger around the coast and creeks of the island, taking on human shape at will, for the purpose of travelling inland to any place he liked, and then reassume his fish form and lie in wait in the many deep pools formed by the streams and springs.

Umi, therefore, ordered Kalei and her relatives to be set at liberty, while the priests and shark kahunas were requested to make offerings and invocations to Kamohoalii that his spirit might take possession of one of his hakas (mediums devoted to his cult), and so express to humanity his desires in regard to his bad son, who had presumed to eat human beings, a practice well known to be contrary to Kamohoalii’s design.

This was done, whereupon the shark god manifested himself through a haka, and expressed his grief at the action of his wayward son. He told them that the grandfather was to blame for feeding him on animal flesh contrary to his orders, and if it were not for that extenuating circumstance, he would order his son to be killed by his own shark officers; but as it was, he would require of him that he should disappear forever from the shores of Hawaii. Should Nanaue disregard that order and be seen by any of his father’s shark soldiers, he was to be instantly killed.

Then the shark god, who it seems retained an affection for his human wife, exacted a promise that she and her relatives were to be forever free from any persecutions on account of her unnatural son, on pain of the return and freedom from the taboo of that son.

Accordingly Nanaue left the island of Hawaii, crossed over to Maui, and landing at Kipahulu, resumed his human shape and went inland. He was seen by the people, and when questioned, told them he was a traveller from Hawaii, who had landed at Hana and was going around sightseeing. He was so good looking, pleasant, and beguiling in his conversation that people generally liked him. He was taken as aikane by one of the petty chiefs of the place, who gave his own sister for wife to Nanaue. The latter made a stipulation that his sleeping house should be separated from that of his wife, on account of a pretended vow, but really in order that his peculiar second mouth might escape detection.

For a while the charms of the pretty girl who had become his wife seem to have been sufficient to prevent him from trying to eat human beings, but after a while, when the novelty of his position as a husband had worn off, and the desire for human flesh had again become very strong, he resumed the old practice for which he had been driven away from Hawaii.

He was eventually detected in the very act of pushing a girl into the sea, jumping in after her, then turning into a shark, and commencing to devour her, to the horror of some people who were fishing with hook and rod from some rocks where he had not observed them. These people raised the alarm, and Nanaue seeing that he was discovered, left for Molokai where he was not known.

He took up his residence on Molokai at Poniuohua, adjoining the ahupuaa of Kainalu, and it was not very long before he was at his old practice of observing and accosting people, giving them his peculiar warning, following them to the sea in his human shape, then seizing one of them as a shark and pulling the unfortunate one to the bottom, where he would devour his victim. In the excitement of such an occurrence, people would fail to notice his absence until he would reappear at some distant point far away from the throng, as if engaged in shrimping or crabbing.

This went on for some time, till the frightened and harassed people in desperation went to consult a shark kahuna, as the ravages of the man-eating shark had put a practical taboo on all kinds of fishing. It was not safe to be anywhere near the sea, even in the shallowest water.

The kahuna told them to lie in wait for Nanaue, and the next time he prophesied that a person would be eaten head and tail, to have some strong men seize him and pull off his kapa mantle, when a shark mouth would be found on his back. This was done, and the mouth seen, but the shark-man was so strong when they seized him and attempted to bind him, that he broke away from them several times. He was finally overpowered near the seashore and tightly bound. All the people then turned their attention to gathering brush and firewood to burn him, for it was well known that it is only by being totally consumed by fire that a man-shark can be thoroughly destroyed, and prevented from taking possession of the body of some harmless fish shark, who would then be incited to do all the pernicious acts of a man-shark.

While he lay there on the low sandy beach, the tide was coming in, and as most of the people were returning with fagots and brush, Nanaue made a supreme effort and rolled over so that his feet touched the water, when he was enabled at once to change into a monster shark. Those who were near him saw it, but were not disposed to let him off so easily, and they ran several rows of netting makai, the water being very shallow for quite a distance out. The shark’s flippers were all bound by the ropes with which the man Nanaue had been bound, and this with the shallowness of the water prevented him from exerting his great strength to advantage. He did succeed in struggling to the breakers, though momentarily growing weaker from loss of blood, as the people were striking at him with clubs, spears, stone adzes and anything that would hurt or wound, so as to prevent his escape.

With all that, he would have got clear, if the people had not called to their aid the demigod Unauna, who lived in the mountains of upper Kainalu. It was then a case of Akua vs. Akua, but Unauna was only a young demigod, and not supposed to have acquired his full strength and supernatural powers, while Nanaue was a full-grown man and shark. If it had not been for the latter’s being hampered by the cords with which he was bound, the nets in his way, as well as the loss of blood, it is fully believed that he would have got the better of the young local presiding deity; but he was finally conquered and hauled up on the hill slopes of Kainalu to be burnt.

The shallow ravine left by the passage of his immense body over the light yielding soil of the Kainalu Hill slope can be seen to this day, as also a ring or deep groove completely around the top of a tall insulated rock very near the top of Kainalu Hill, around which Unauna had thrown the rope, to assist him in hauling the big shark uphill. The place was ever afterwards called Puumano (Shark Hill), and is so known to this day.

Nanaue was so large, that in the attempt to burn him, the blood and water oozing out of his burning body put out the fire several times. Not to be outwitted in that way by the shark son of Kamohoalii, Unauna ordered the people to cut and bring for the purpose of splitting into knives, bamboos from the sacred grove of Kainalu. The shark flesh was then cut into strips, partly dried, and then burnt, but the whole bamboo grove had to be used before the big shark was all cut. The god Mohoalii (another form of the name of the god Kamohoalii), father of Unauna, was so angered by the desecration of the grove, or more likely on account of the use to which it was put, that he took away all the edge and sharpness from the bamboos of this grove forever, and to this day they are different from the bamboos of any other place or grove on the islands, in this particular, that a piece of them cannot cut any more than any piece of common wood.


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

This Land is the Sea’s. Traditional Account of an Ancient Hawaiian Prophecy

Kaopulupulu, a revered priest of Oahu, foresaw his tragic fate and the downfall of King Kahahana through prophetic visions. Despite offering wise counsel, Kaopulupulu’s guidance was ignored, leading to his eventual execution and that of his son, Kahulupue. His prophecy, “This land is the sea’s,” symbolized the loss of sovereignty and foretold the foreign dominance over Hawaii. His legacy endures as a symbol of wisdom and resistance.

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


► Themes of the story

Prophecy and Fate: Kaopulupulu’s visions foretell the tragic events that unfold.

Conflict with Authority: Kaopulupulu challenges the king’s decisions, leading to fatal consequences.

Tragic Flaw: King Kahahana’s hubris and disregard for wisdom result in his demise.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Hawaiians


Translated from Moke Manu by Thos. G. Thrum

It is stated in the history of Kaopulupulu that he was famed among the kahunas of the island of Oahu for his power and wisdom in the exercise of his profession, and was known throughout the land as a leader among the priests. His place of residence was at Waimea, between Koolauloa and Waialua, Oahu. There he married, and there was born to him a son whom he named Kahulupue, and whom he instructed during his youth in all priestly vocations.

In after years when Kumahana, brother of Kahahana of Maui, became the governing chief (alii aimoku) of Oahu, Kahulupue was chosen by him as his priest.

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This chief did evil unto his subjects, seizing their property and beheading and maiming many with the leiomano (shark’s tooth weapon) and pahoa (dagger), without provocation, so that he became a reproach to his people. From such treatment Kahulupue endeavored to dissuade him, assuring him that such a course would fail to win their support and obedience, whereas the supplying of food and fish, with covering for the body, and malos, would insure their affectionate regard. The day of the people was near, for the time of conflict was approaching when he would meet the enemy. But these counsels of Kahulupue were disregarded, so he returned to his father at Waimea.

Not long thereafter this chief Kumahana was cast out and rejected by the lesser chiefs and people, and under cover of night he escaped by canoe to Molokai, where he was ignored and became lost to further history in consequence of his wrong-doings.

When Kahekili, King of Maui, heard of the stealthy flight of the governing chief of Oahu, he placed the young prince Kahahana, his foster-son, as ruler over Oahu in the place of his deposed relative, Kumahana. This occurred about the year 1773, and Kahahana took with him as his intimate friend and companion one Alapai. Kahahana chose as his place of residence the shade of the kou and cocoanut trees of Ulukou, Waikiki, where also gathered together the chiefs of the island to discuss and consider questions of state.

The new ruler being of fine and stalwart form and handsome appearance, the chiefs and common people maintained that his fame in this respect induced a celebrated chieftainess of Kauai, named Kekuapoi, to voyage hither. Her history, it is said, showed that she alone excelled in maiden charm and beauty; she was handsome beyond all other chieftainesses from Hawaii to Kauai, as “the third brightness of the sun” (he ekolu ula o ka la). In consequence, Kahahana took her as his wife, she being own sister to Kekuamanoha.

At this time the thought occurred to the King to inquire through the chiefs of Oahu of the whereabouts of Kaopulupulu, the celebrated priest, of whom he had heard through Kahekili, King of Maui. In reply to this inquiry of Kahahana, the chiefs told him that his place of residence was at Waimea, whereupon a messenger was sent to bid him come up by order of the King. When the messenger reached Kaopulupulu he delivered the royal order. Upon the priest hearing this word of the King he assented thereto, with this reply to the messenger: “You return first and tell him that on the morning after the fourteenth night of the moon (po o akua), I will reach the place of the King.”

At the end of the conference the messenger returned and stood before Kahahana and revealed the words of Kaopulupulu; and the King waited for the time of his arrival.

It is true, Kaopulupulu made careful preparation for his future. Toward the time of his departure he was engaged in considering the good or evil of his approaching journey by the casting of lots, according to the rites of his profession. He foresaw thereby the purpose of the King in summoning him to dwell at court. He therefore admonished his son to attend to all the rites and duties of the priesthood as he had been taught, and to care for his mother and relatives.

At early dawn Kaopulupulu arose and partook of food till satisfied, after which he prepared himself for the journey before him. After he had given his farewell greetings to his household he seized his bundle and, taking a cocoanut fan in his hand, set out toward Punanue, where was a temple (heiau) for priests only, called Kahokuwelowelo. This was crown land at Waialua in ancient times. Entering the temple he prayed for success in his journey, after which he proceeded along the plains of Lauhulu till reaching the Anahulu stream, thence by Kemoo to Kukaniloko, the shelter of whose prominent rock the chieftainesses of Oahu were wont to choose for their place of confinement.

Leaving this place he came to Kalakoa, where Kekiopilo the prophet priest lived and died, and the scene of his vision at high noon when he prophesied of the coming of foreigners with a strange language. Here he stopped and rested with some of the people, and ate food with them, after which he journeyed on by way of Waipio by the ancient path of that time till he passed Ewa and reached Kapukaki.

The sun was well up when he reached the water of Lapakea, so he hastened his steps in ascending Kauwalua, at Moanalua, and paused not till he came to the mouth of the Apuakehau stream at Waikiki. Proceeding along the sand at this place he was discerned by the retainers of the King and greeted with the shout, “Here comes the priest Kaopulupulu.”

When the King heard this he was exceedingly pleased (pihoihoi loa) at the time, and on the priest’s meeting with King Kahahana he welcomed Kaopulupulu with loud rejoicing.

Without delay the King set apart a house wherein to meet and discuss with the priest those things he had in mind, and in the consideration of questions from first to last, Kaopulupulu replied with great wisdom in accordance with his knowledge of his profession. At this time of their conference he sat within the doorway of the house, and the sun was near its setting. As he turned to observe this he gazed out into the sky and noticing the gathering short clouds (ao poko) in the heavens, he exclaimed:

“O heaven, the road is broad for the King, it is full of chiefs and people; narrow is my path, that of the kahuna; you will not be able to find it, O King. Even now the short clouds reveal to me the manner of your reign; it will not be many days. Should you heed my words, O King, you will live to gray hair. But you will be the king to slay me and my child.”

At these words of the priest the King meditated seriously for some time, then spoke as follows: “Why should my days be short, and why should your death be by me, the King?”

Kaopulupulu replied: “O King, let us look into the future. Should you die, O King, the lands will be desolate; but for me, the kahuna, the name will live on from one generation to another; but my death will be before thine, and when I am up on the heaven-feared altar then my words will gnaw thee, O King, and the rains and the sun will bear witness.”

These courageous words of Kaopulupulu, spoken in the presence of Kahahana without fear, and regardless of the dignity and majesty of the King, were uttered because of the certainty that the time would come when his words would be carried into effect. The King remained quiet without saying a word, keeping his thoughts to himself.

After this conference the King took Kaopulupulu to be his priest, and in course of time he became also an intimate companion, in constant attendance upon the King, and counselled him in the care of his subjects, old and young, in all that pertained to their welfare. The King regarded his words, and in their circuit of the island together they found the people contented and holding their ruler in high esteem. But at the end of three years the King attempted some wrong to certain of his subjects like unto that of his deposed predecessor. The priest remonstrated with him continually, but he would not regard his counsel; therefore, Kaopulupulu left King Kahahana and returned to his land at Waimea and at once tattooed his knees. This was done as a sign that the King had turned a deaf ear to his admonitions.

When several days had passed, rumors among certain people of Waialua reached the priest that he was to be summoned to appear before the King in consequence of this act, which had greatly angered his august lord. Kahahana had gone to reside at Waianae, and from there shortly afterward he sent messengers to fetch Kaopulupulu and his son Kahulupue from Waimea.

In the early morning of the day of the messenger’s arrival, a rainbow stood directly in the doorway of Kaopulupulu’s house, and he asked of his god its meaning; but his prayer was broken (ua haki ka pule). This boded him ill; therefore he called to his son to stand in prayer; but the result was the same. Then he said, “This augurs of the day of death; see! the rising up of a man in the pass of Hapuu, putting on his kapa with its knot fastening on the left side of the neck, which means that he is bringing a death message.”

Shortly after the priest had ended these words a man was indeed seen approaching along the mountain pass, with his kapa as indicated; and he came and stood before the door of their house and delivered the order of the King for them to go to Waianae, both him and his son.

The priest replied: “Return you first; we will follow later,” and the messenger obeyed. When he had departed Kaopulupulu recalled to his son the words he had spoken before the advent of the messenger, and said: “Oh, where are you, my child? Go clothe the body; put on the malo; eat of the food till satisfied, and we will go as commanded by the King; but this journey will result in placing us on the altar (kau i ka lele). Fear not death. The name of an idler, if he be beaten to death, is not passed on to distinction.”

At the end of these words of his father, Kahulupue wept for love of his relatives, though his father bid him to weep not for his family, because he, Kaopulupulu, saw the end that would befall the King, Kahahana, and his court of chiefs and retainers. Even at this time the voices of distress were heard among his family and their tears flowed, but Kaopulupulu looked on unmoved by their cries.

He then arose and, with his son, gave farewell greetings to their household, and set forth. In journeying they passed through Waialua, resting in the house of a kamaaina at Kawaihapai. In passing the night at this place Kahulupue slept not, but went out to examine the fishing canoes of that neighborhood. Finding a large one suitable for a voyage, he returned and awoke his father, that they might flee together that night to Kauai and dwell on the knoll of Kalalea. But Kaopulupulu declined the idea of flight. In the morning, ascending a hill, they turned and looked back over the sea-spray of Waialua to the swimming halas of Kahuku beyond. Love for the place of his birth so overcame Kaopulupulu for a time that his tears flowed for that he should see it no more.

Then they proceeded on their way till, passing Kaena Point, they reached the temple of Puaakanoe. At this sacred boundary Kaopulupulu said to his son, “Let us swim in the sea and touch along the coast of Makua.” At one of their resting-places, journeying thus, he said, with direct truthfulness, as his words proved: “Where are you, my son? For this drenching of the high priests by the sea, seized will be the sacred lands (moo-kapu) from Waianae to Kualoa by the chief from the east.”

As they were talking they beheld the King’s men approaching along the sand of Makua, and shortly afterward these men came before them and seized them and tied their hands behind their backs and took them to the place of King Kahahana at Puukea, Waianae, and put them, father and son, in a new grass hut unfinished of its ridge thatch, and tied them, the one to the end post (pouhana) and the other to the corner post (poumanu) of the house.

At the time of the imprisonment of the priest and his son in this new house Kaopulupulu spake aloud, without fear of dire consequences, so that the King and all his men heard him, as follows: “Here I am with my son in this new unfinished house; so will be unfinished the reign of the King that slays us.” At this saying Kahahana, the King, was very angry.

Throughout that day and the night following, till the sun was high with warmth, the King was directing his soldiers to seize Kahulupue first and put him to death. Obeying the orders of the King, they took Kahulupue just outside of the house and stabbed at his eyes with laumake spears and stoned him with stones before the eyes of his father, with merciless cruelty. These things, though done by the soldiers, were dodged by Kahulupue, and the priest, seeing the King had no thought of regard for his child, spoke up with priestly authority, as follows: “Be strong of breath, my son, till the body touch the water, for the land indeed is the sea’s.”

When Kahulupue heard the voice of his father telling him to flee to the sea, he turned toward the shore in obedience to these last words to him, because of the attack by the soldiers of the King. As he ran, he was struck in the back by a spear, but he persevered and leaped into the sea at Malae and was drowned, his blood discoloring the water. His dead body was taken and placed up in the temple at Puehuehu. After the kapu days therefore the King, with his chiefs and soldiers, moved to Puuloa, Ewa, bringing with them the priest Kaopulupulu, and after some days he was brought before the King by the soldiers, and without groans for his injuries was slain in the King’s presence. But he spoke fearlessly of the vengeance that would fall upon the King in consequence of his death, and during their murderous attack upon him proclaimed with his dying breath: “You, O King, that kill me here at Puuloa, the time is near when a direct death will be yours. Above here in this land, and the spot where my lifeless body will be borne and placed high on the altar for my flesh to decay and slip to the earth, shall be the burial place of chiefs and people hereafter, and it shall be called ‘the royal sand of the mistaken’; there will you be placed in the temple.” At the end of these words of Kaopulupulu his spirit took flight, and his body was left for mockery and abuse, as had been that of his son in the sea of Malae, at Waianae.

After a while the body of the priest was placed on a double canoe and brought to Waikiki and placed high in the cocoanut trees at Kukaeunahi, the place of the temple, for several ten-day periods (he mau anahulu) without decomposition and falling off of the flesh to the sands of Waikiki.

When King Kahekili of Maui heard of the death of the priest Kaopulupulu by Kahahana, he sent some of his men thither by canoe, who landed at Waimanalo, Koolau, where, as spies, they learned from the people respecting Kaopulupulu and his death, with that of his son; therefore they returned and told the King the truth of these reports, at which the affection of Kahekili welled up for the dead priest, and he condemned the King he had established. Coming with an army from Maui, he landed at Waikiki without meeting Kahahana, and took back the government of Oahu under his own kingship. The chiefs and people of Oahu all joined under Kahekili, for Kahahana had been a chief of wrong-doing. This was the first sea of Kaopulupulu in accordance with his prophetic utterance to his son, “This land is the sea’s.”

Upon the arrival here at Oahu of Kahekili, Kahahana fled, with his wife Kekuapoi, and friend Alapai, and hid in the shrubbery of the hills. They went to Aliomanu, Moanalua, to a place called Kinimakalehua; then moved along to Keanapuaa and Kepookala, at the lochs of Puuloa, and from there to upper Waipoi; thence to Wahiawa, Helemano, and on to Lihue; thence they came to Poohilo, at Honouliuli, where they first showed themselves to the people and submitted themselves to their care.

While they were living there, report thereof was made to Kahekili, the King, who thereupon sent Kekuamanoha, elder brother of Kekuapoi, the wife of Kahahana, with men in double canoes from Waikiki, landing first at Kupahu, Hanapouli, Waipio, with instructions to capture and put to death Kahahana, as also his friend Alapai, but to save alive Kekuapoi. When the canoes touched at Hanapouli, they proceeded thence to Waikele and Hoaeae, and from there to Poohilo, Honouliuli, where they met in conference with Kahahana and his party. At the close of the day Kekuamanoha sought by enticing words to induce his brother-in-law to go up with him and see the father King and be assured of no death condemnation, and by skilled flattery he induced Kahahana to consent to his proposition; whereupon preparation was made for the return. On the following morning, coming along and reaching the plains of Hoaeae, they fell upon and slew Kahahana and Alapai there, and bore their lifeless bodies to Halaulani, Waipio, where they were placed in the canoes and brought up to Waikiki and placed up in the cocoanut trees by King Kahekili and his priests from Maui, as Kaopulupulu had been. Thus was fulfilled the famous saying of the Oahu priest in all its truthfulness.

According to the writings of S. M. Kamakau and David Malo, recognized authorities, the thought of Kaopulupulu as expressed to his son Kahulupue, “This land is the sea’s,” was in keeping with the famous prophetic vision of Kekiopilo that “the foreigners possess the land,” as the people of Hawaii now realize. The weighty thought of this narration and the application of the saying of Kaopulupulu to this time of enlightenment are frequent with certain leaders of thought among the people, as shown in their papers.


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Oahunui

Kukaniloko on Oahu, once a sacred royal birthplace, became infamous through the tragic tale of King Oahunui. Enamored by cannibalistic chiefs, he developed a taste for human flesh, allegedly consuming his own nephews. This act led their father, Lehuanui, to avenge them by killing the King. Betrayal, divine curses, and stone memorials mark the abandoned site, symbolizing the gods’ wrath and its grim legacy.

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


► Themes of the story

Good vs. Evil: The narrative contrasts the malevolent actions of the cannibalistic chiefs and King Oahunui with the virtuous characters who oppose them.

Sacred Spaces: Kukaniloko serves as a significant location, being the sacred birthplace of Oahu’s royalty and later marked by stone memorials symbolizing its tragic history.

Tragic Flaw: King Oahunui’s descent into cannibalism, influenced by the southern chiefs, represents a fatal flaw that ultimately leads to his downfall.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Hawaiians


by Mrs. E.M. Nakuina

On the plateau lying between Ewa and Waialua, on the island of Oahu, and about a mile off, and mauka of the Kaukonahua bridge, is the historical place called Kukaniloko. This was the ancient birthplace of the Oahu kings and rulers. It was incumbent on all women of the royal line to retire to this place when about to give birth to a child, on pain of forfeiting the rank, privileges, and prerogatives of her expected offspring, should that event happen in a less sacred place.

The stones were still standing some years ago, and perhaps are yet undisturbed, where the royal accouchements took place.

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In ancient times this locality was taboo ground, for here the high priest of the island had his headquarters. Himself descended from the chief families, and being, in many instances, an uncle or younger brother of the reigning king, or connected by marriage with those of the royal line, and being also at the head of a numerous, well organized, and powerful priesthood, his influence was hardly second to that of the king, and in some matters his authority was paramount.

A few miles mauka of Kukaniloko, toward the Waimea Mountains, is Helemano, where the last of the cannibal chiefs from the South Seas finally settled when driven from the plains of Mokuleia and Waialua by the inhabitants of those districts; for the people had been exasperated by the frequent requisitions on the kamaainas (original inhabitants) by the stranger chiefs to furnish material for their cannibal feasts.

To the east of Helemano, and about the same distance from Kukaniloko, is Oahunui (Greater Oahu), another historical place. This was the residence of the kings of the island. Tradition has it that previous to the advent of the cannibal strangers the place was known by another name.

When the Lo Aikanaka, as the last of the man-eating chiefs are called, were constrained to take up their residence in upper Helemano, a district just outside of the boundaries of those reserved for the royal and priestly residences, a young man called Oahunui was king. An elder sister named Kilikiliula, who had been as a mother to him, was supposed to share equally with him the royal power and prerogative. This sister was married to a chief named Lehuanui, of the priestly line, but one not otherwise directly connected with royalty, and was the mother of three children; the two eldest being boys and the youngest a girl. They all lived together in the royal enclosure, but in separate houses, according to ancient custom.

Now, the Lo Aikanaka, on establishing themselves in upper Helemano, had at first behaved very well. They had been circumspect and prudent in their intercourse with the royal retainers, and had visited the young King to render their homage with every appearance of humility.

Oahunui was quite captivated by the plausible, suave manners of the ingratiating southern chief and those of his immediate retainers, and he invited them to a feast.

This civility was reciprocated, and the King dined with the strangers. Here it was strongly suspected that the dish of honor placed before the King was human flesh, served under the guise of pork.

The King found the dish very much to his liking, and intimated to the Lo Aikanaka chief that his aipuu-puu (chief cook or steward) understood the preparation and cooking of pork better than the royal cook did.

The Lo Aikanaka took the hint, and the young King became a very frequent guest at the Southerner’s board–or rather, mat table. Some excuse or other would be given to invite the royal guest, such as a challenge to the King to a game of konane (a game like checkers); or a contest of skill in the different athletic and warlike sports would be arranged, and Oahunui would be asked to be the judge, or simply invited to view them. As a matter of course, it would be expected that the King would remain after the sports and partake of food when on friendly visits of this nature. Thus with one excuse or another he spent a great deal of his time with his new subjects and friends.

To supply the particular dainty craved by the royal visitor, the Lo Aikanaka had to send out warriors to the passes leading to Waianae from Lihue and Kalena, and also to the lonely pathway leading up to Kalakini, on the Waimea side, there to lie in ambush for any lone traveller, or belated person after la-i, aaho, or ferns. Such a one would fall an easy prey to the Lo Aikanaka stalwarts, skilful in the art of the lua (to kill by breaking the bones).

This went on for some time, until the unaccountable disappearance of so many people began to be connected with the frequent entertainments by the southern chief. Oahunui’s subjects began to hint that their young King had acquired the taste for human flesh at these feasts, and that it was to gratify his unnatural appetite for the horrid dish that he paid his frequent visits to those who were his inferiors, contrary to all royal precedent.

The people’s disapproval of the intimacy of Oahunui with his new friends was expressed more and more openly, and the murmurs of discontent grew loud and deep. His chiefs and high priest became alarmed, and begged him to discontinue his visits, or they would not be answerable for the consequences. The King was thereby forced to heed their admonitions and promised to keep away from Lo’s, and did so for quite a while.

Now, all the male members of the royal family ate their meals with the King when he was at home. This included, among others, Lehuanui, his sister’s husband, and their two sons–healthy, chubby little lads of about eight and six years of age. One day after breakfast, as the roar of the surf at Waialua could be distinctly heard, the King remarked that the fish of Ukoa pond at Waialua must be pressing on to the makaha (floodgates) and he would like some aholehole.

This observation really meant a command to his brother-in-law to go and get the fish, as he was the highest chief present except his two royal nephews, too small to assume such duties.

Lehuanui, Kilikiliula’s husband, accordingly went to Waialua with a few of his own family retainers and a number of those belonging to the King. They found the fish packed thick at the makaha, and were soon busily engaged in scooping out, cleaning, and salting them. It was quite late at night when Lehuanui, fatigued with the labors of the day, lay down to rest. He had been asleep but a short time when he seemed to see his two sons standing by his head. The eldest spoke to him: “Why do you sleep, my father? While you are down here we are being eaten by your brother-in-law, the King. We were cooked and eaten up, and our skulls are now hanging in a net from a branch of the lehua-tree you are called after, and the rest of our bones are tied in a bundle and buried under the tree by the big root running to the setting sun.”

Then they seemed to fade away, and Lehuanui started up, shivering with fear. He hardly knew whether he had been dreaming or had actually seen an apparition of his little sons. He had no doubt they were dead, and as he remembered all the talk and innuendoes about the King’s supposed reasons for visiting the strangers and the enforced cessation of those visits at the urgent request of the high priest and the chiefs, he came to the conclusion that the King had expressed a desire for fish in his presence only to send him out of the way. He reasoned that no doubt the King had noticed the chubby forms and rounded limbs of the little lads, and being debarred a chance of partaking surreptitiously of human flesh, had compelled his servants to kill, cook, and serve up his own nephews. In satisfying his depraved appetite, he had also got rid of two who might become formidable rivals; for it was quite within the possibilities that the priests and chiefs in the near future, should he be suspected of a desire for a further indulgence in cannibal diet, might depose him, and proclaim either one of the young nephews his successor.

The father was so troubled that he aroused his immediate body servant, and the two left Waialua for home shortly after midnight. They arrived at the royal enclosure at dawn, and went first to the lehua-tree spoken of by the apparition of the child, and on looking up amid the branches, sure enough there dangled two little skulls in a large-meshed fishing-net. Lehuanui then stooped down and scraped away the leaves and loose dirt from the root indicated, and out rolled a bundle of tapa, which on being opened was found to contain the bones of two children. The father reached up for the net containing the skulls, and putting the bundle of tapa in it, tied the net around his neck. The servant stood by, a silent and grieved spectator of a scene whose meaning he fully understood.

The father procured a stone adze and went to the King’s sleeping-house, the servant still following. Here every one but an old woman tending the kukui-nut candle was asleep. Oahunui was stretched out on a pile of soft mats covered with his paiula, the royal red kapa of old. The cruel wretch had eaten to excess of the hateful dish he craved, and having accompanied it with copious draughts of awa juice, was in a heavy, drunken sleep.

Lehuanui stood over him, adze in hand, and called, “O King, where are my children?” The stupefied King only stirred uneasily, and would not, or could not, awake. Lehuanui called him three times, and the sight of the drunken brute, gorged with his flesh and blood, so enraged the father that he struck at Oahunui’s neck with his stone adze, and severed the head from the body at one blow.

The father and husband then strode to his own sleeping-house, where his wife lay asleep with their youngest child in her arms. He aroused her and asked for his boys. The mother could only weep, without answering. He upbraided her for her devotion to her brother, and for having tamely surrendered her children to satisfy the appetite of the inhuman monster. He reminded her that she had equal power with her brother, and that the latter was very unpopular, and had she chosen to resist his demands and called on the retainers to defend her children, the King would have been killed and her children saved.

He then informed her that, as she had given up his children to be killed for her brother, he had killed him in retaliation, and, saying, “You have preferred your brother to me and mine, so you will see no more of me and mine,” he tore the sleeping child from her arms and turned to leave the house.

The poor wife and mother followed, and, flinging herself on her husband, attempted to detain him by clinging to his knees; but the father, crazed by his loss and the thought of her greater affection for a cruel, inhuman brother than for her own children, struck at her with all his might, exclaiming, “Well, then, follow your brother,” and rushed away, followed by all his retainers.

Kilikiliula fell on the side of the stream opposite to where the lehua-tree stood, and is said to have turned to stone. The stone is pointed out to this day, balanced on the hillside of the ravine formed by the stream, and is one of the objects for the Hawaiian sightseer.

The headless body of Oahunui lay where he was killed, abandoned by every one. The story runs that in process of time it also turned to stone, as a witness to the anger of the gods and their detestation of his horrible crime. All the servants who had in any way been concerned, in obedience to royal mandate, in killing and cooking the young princes were, at the death of Kilikiliula, likewise turned to stone, just as they were, in the various positions of crouching, kneeling, or sitting. All the rest of the royal retainers, with the lesser chiefs and guards, fled in fear and disgust from the place, and thus the once sacred royal home of the Oahuan chiefs was abandoned and deserted.

The great god Kane’s curse, it is believed, still hangs over the desolate spot, in proof of which it is asserted that, although all this happened hundreds of years ago, no one has ever lived there since.


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Lonopuha; or, Origin of the Art of Healing in Hawaii

During Milu’s time in Waipio, Hawaii, foreigners from Kahiki arrived, spreading diseases and introducing healing practices through Kamakanuiahailono. He trained Lonopuha, a skilled healer who cured Milu of severe illnesses. Despite warnings, Milu’s curiosity and impatience led to fatal consequences—first through a mythical bird’s attack and later during surf sports. His repeated disobedience symbolized the tragic cost of ignoring wisdom and guidance.

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


► Themes of the story

Origin of Things: The tale explains the introduction of diseases and the practice of healing in Hawaii, detailing how foreigners from Kahiki brought illnesses and how Kamakanuiahailono introduced medicinal practices.

Transformation: The narrative illustrates the transformation of Hawaiian society with the advent of new diseases and the subsequent development of healing arts, marking a significant change in their way of life.

Tragic Flaw: Milu’s repeated disobedience and curiosity lead to his demise, highlighting the consequences of ignoring wisdom and guidance.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Hawaiians


Translated by Thos.G. Thrum

During the time that Milu was residing at Waipio, Hawaii, the year of which is unknown, there came to these shores a number of people, with their wives, from that vague foreign land, Kahiki. But they were all of godly kind (ano akua nae), it is said, and drew attention as they journeyed from place to place. They arrived first at Niihau, and from there they travelled through all the islands. At Hawaii they landed at the south side, thence to Puna, Hilo, and settled at Kukuihaele, Hamakua, just above Waipio. On every island they visited there appeared various diseases, and many deaths resulted, so that it was said this was their doings, among the chiefs and people. The diseases that followed in their train were chills, fevers, headache, pani, and so on.

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These are the names of some of these people: Kaalaenuiahina, Kahuilaokalani, Kaneikaulanaula, besides others. They brought death, but one Kamakanuiahailono followed after them with healing powers. This was perhaps the origin of sickness and the art of healing with medicines in Hawaii.

As has been said, diseases settled on the different islands like an epidemic, and the practice of medicine ensued, for Kamakanuiahailono followed them in their journeyings. He arrived at Kau, stopping at Kiolakaa, on the west side of Waiohinu, where a great multitude of people were residing, and Lono was their chief. The stranger sat on a certain hill, where many of the people visited him, for the reason that he was a newcomer, a custom that is continued to this day. While there he noticed the redness of skin of a certain one of them, and remarked, “Oh, the redness of skin of that man!”

The people replied, “Oh, that is Lono, the chief of this land, and he is a farmer.”

He again spoke, asserting that his sickness was very great; for through the redness of the skin he knew him to be a sick man.

They again replied that he was a healthy man, “but you consider him very sick.” He then left the residents and set out on his journey.

Some of those who heard his remarks ran and told the chief the strange words, “that he was a very sick man.” On hearing this, Lono raised up his oo (digger) and said, “Here I am, without any sign of disease, and yet I am sick.” And as he brought down his oo with considerable force, it struck his foot and pierced it through, causing the blood to flow freely, so that he fell and fainted away. At this, one of the men seized a pig and ran after the stranger, who, hearing the pig squealing, looked behind him and saw the man running with it; and as he neared him he dropped it before him, and told him of Lono’s misfortune, Kamakanuiahailono then returned, gathering on the way the young popolo seeds and its tender leaves in his garment (kihei). When he arrived at the place where the wounded man was lying he asked for some salt, which he took and pounded together with the popolo and placed it with a cocoanut covering on the wound. From then till night the flowing of the blood ceased. After two or three weeks had elapsed he again took his departure.

While he was leisurely journeying, some one breathing heavily approached him in the rear, and, turning around, there was the chief, and he asked him: “What is it, Lono, and where are you going?”

Lono replied, “You healed me; therefore, as soon as you had departed I immediately consulted with my successors, and have resigned my offices to them, so that they will have control over all. As for myself, I followed after you, that you might teach me the art of healing.”

The kahuna lapaau (medical priest) then said, “Open your mouth.” When Lono opened his mouth, the kahuna spat into it, [an initiatory act, as in the priesthood] by which he would become proficient in the calling he had chosen, and in which he eventually became, in fact, very skilful.

As they travelled, he instructed Lono (on account of the accident to his foot he was called Lonopuha) in the various diseases, and the different medicines for the proper treatment of each. They journeyed through Kau, Puna, and Hilo, thence onward to Hamakua as far as Kukuihaele. Prior to their arrival there, Kamakanuiahailono said to Lonopuha, “It is better that we reside apart, lest your healing practice do not succeed; but you settle elsewhere, so as to gain recognition from your own skill.”

For this reason, Lonopuha went on farther and located in Waimanu, and there practised the art of healing. On account of his labors here, he became famous as a skilful healer, which fame Kamakanuiahailono and others heard of at Kukuihaele; but he never revealed to Kaalaenuiahina ma (company) of his teaching of Lonopuha, through which he became celebrated. It so happened that Kaalaenuiahina ma were seeking an occasion to cause Milu’s death, and he was becoming sickly through their evil efforts.

When Milu heard of the fame of Lonopuha as a skilful healer, because of those who were afflicted with disease and would have died but for his treatment, he sent his messenger after him. On arriving at Milu’s house, Lonopuha examined and felt of him, and then said, “You will have no sickness, provided you be obedient to my teachings.” He then exercised his art, and under his medical treatment Milu recovered.

Lonopuha then said to him: “I have treated you, and you are well of the internal ailments you suffered under, and only that from without remains. Now, you must build a house of leaves and dwell therein in quietness for a few weeks, to recuperate.” These houses are called pipipi, such being the place to which invalids are moved for convalescent treatment unless something unforeseen should occur.

Upon Milu’s removal thereto, Lonopuha advised him as follows: “O King! you are to dwell in this house according to the length of time directed, in perfect quietness; and should the excitement of sports with attendant loud cheering prevail here, I warn you against these as omens of evil for your death; and I advise you not to loosen the ti leaves of your house to peep out to see the cause, for on the very day you do so, that day you will perish.”

Some two weeks had scarcely passed since the King had been confined in accordance with the kahuna’s instructions, when noises from various directions in proximity to the King’s dwelling were heard, but he regarded the advice of the priest all that day. The cause of the commotion was the appearance of two birds playing in the air, which so excited the people that they kept cheering them all that day.

Three weeks had almost passed when loud cheering was again heard in Waipio, caused by a large bird decorated with very beautiful feathers, which flew out from the clouds and soared proudly over the palis (precipices) of Koaekea and Kaholokuaiwa, and poised gracefully over the people; therefore, they cheered as they pursued it here and there. Milu was much worried thereby, and became so impatient that he could no longer regard the priest’s caution; so he lifted some of the ti leaves of his house to look out at the bird, when instantly it made a thrust at him, striking him under the armpit, whereby his life was taken and he was dead (lilo ai kona ola a make iho la).

The priest saw the bird flying with the liver of Milu; therefore, he followed after it. When it saw that it was pursued, it immediately entered into a sunken rock just above the base of the precipice of Koaekea. As he reached the place, the blood was spattered around where the bird had entered. Taking a piece of garment (pahoola), he soaked it with the blood and returned and placed it in the opening in the body of the dead King and poured healing medicine on the wound, whereby Milu recovered. And the place where the bird entered with Milu’s liver has ever since been called Keakeomilu (the liver of Milu).

A long while afterward, when this death of the King was as nothing (i mea ole), and he recovered as formerly, the priest refrained not from warning him, saying: “You have escaped from this death; there remains for you one other.”

After Milu became convalescent from his recent serious experience, a few months perhaps had elapsed, when the surf at Waipio became very high and was breaking heavily on the beach. This naturally caused much commotion and excitement among the people, as the numerous surf-riders, participating in the sport, would land upon the beach on their surf-boards. Continuous cheering prevailed, and the hilarity rendered Milu so impatient at the restraint put upon him by the priest that he forsook his wise counsel and joined in the exhilarating sport.

Seizing a surf-board he swam out some distance to the selected spot for suitable surfs. Here he let the first and second combers pass him; but watching his opportunity he started with the momentum of the heavier third comber, catching the crest just right. Quartering on the rear of his board, he rode in with majestic swiftness, and landed nicely on the beach amid the cheers and shouts of the people. He then repeated the venture and was riding in as successfully, when, in a moment of careless abandon, at the place where the surfs finish as they break on the beach, he was thrust under and suddenly disappeared, while the surf-board flew from under and was thrown violently upon the shore. The people in amazement beheld the event, and wildly exclaimed: “Alas! Milu is dead! Milu is dead!” With sad wonderment they searched and watched in vain for his body. Thus was seen the result of repeated disobedience.


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