The treasury of stories and fables among the natives varies greatly in range on the various islands. Fantasy has not developed equally in all places: here, the luxuriant twigs and blossoms flourish; there, they are stunted and barely recognisable.

The most impoverished are probably the Baining. They plant their taro and otherwise care little about the way things are. The Solomon Islanders, too, appear to be far behind the inhabitants of the Gazelle Peninsula in this aspect.

However, on New Ireland stories and fables flourish luxuriantly and, with the exception of the Baining, this is so throughout New Britain. Of course, our knowledge is small; white people have not yet come into closer contact with very many of the tribes, and do not know their language, both of which factors are essential for gathering the storehouse of fables.

I regard any classification of these native tales according to content as premature, because of the paucity of material available, and accordingly, I lay them before the reader in all their bright array.

The natives of the north-eastern Gazelle Peninsula believe that the world and everything in the world were originally created beautiful and good by To Kabanana (To Kabinana). Then there came an evil spirit that spoiled everything that To Kabanana had created, including humans. His name differs in the various districts, the most common being To Karavo or To Korvuvu; however, he is also designated as Puruqo, To Poruqo and To Purukelel.

One day, To Kabanana sent out a boy to fetch a firebrand for the workers. The boy did not want to go, and To Kabanana asked him, ‘Why don’t you want to go?’ However, the boy did not answer.

Then the snake said, ‘Well then, I shall go and fetch the firebrand!’ And the snake hurried away and brought the firebrand to To Kabanana.

He then said to the snake, ‘You, snake, will always live, but you, shore people, will die!’ Then he added, ‘You, snake, eat fruit, birds, wallabies and mice in the forest, and you will live on those (eternally); they (shore people), on the other hand, will become ill and die.’

One day, To Korvuvu wanted to eat a man. He killed him at night, cut him up, and ate him. When the people heard that To Korvuvu had eaten a man, they said to one another, ‘To Korvuvu is destroying the people, he strikes them dead, and eats them.’ But they did not dare to attack him because he was far greater in strength than they. He continued doing evil. One day he was catching lice on a boy’s head; suddenly, he bent towards the boy’s ear, cut it off, and ate it on the spot. The boy asked To Korvuvu, ‘What are you eating?’ To Korvuvu said, ‘A kubika na moramoro’ after which he confessed that he had cut off his ear and eaten it, and, bursting out laughing, he added, ‘It tastes marvellous!’

The boy then ran crying to To Kabanana and complained about To Korvuvu. To Kabanana, however, only said angrily, ‘Why did you go to that savage?’

In the opinion of the Nakanai people, the inhabitants of Ulavun are ugly and deformed. They talk about them in the following way:

The inhabitants of Ulavun and Imbane one day caught a wengi (a mythical sea monster) and roasted the flesh. A woman ate it first and immediately her mouth convulsed, the lips swelled and the mouth remained open. The nose grew larger, broad and flat. All children born to the woman resembled their mother, and, since all the women had eaten the wengi, all their offspring were deformed. Since that time they have been ashamed, and no longer come down to the shore. 297

One day Tolangabuturu saw a pigeon. He followed it from tree to tree and tried to catch it, but always it evaded his grasp. Finally it flew over the sea and Tolangabuturu got into his canoe and followed it. After a long journey, he reached an island and discovered that it was inhabited only by women. This seemed uncanny to him, and he climbed a tree to hide. But the shadow of the tree fell on a spring, and when one of the women came to it she saw the silhouette of Tolangabuturu and discovered his hiding place. He pleased her at first sight and, to keep him for herself, she collected water in empty containers for the other women, so that they would not have the opportunity of discovering the treasure. When 298all the women went away to amuse themselves on the beach with the turtles, the woman crept to the tree and called to Tolangabuturu to come down. She took him to her hut and concealed him there, but eventually the other women discovered his presence and everybody wanted to have the new arrival. This was an occasion for great quarrelling and strife, for the initial discoverer regarded Tolangabuturu as her exclusive property; but finally they came to an agreement and he became the common property of all the women, who looked after him most solicitously to the end of his days.

To Kabanana is the inventor of the big fish-trap. He also taught To Poruqo how to make it. One day To Kabanana had to go off to a compound, and left To Poruqo behind to continue working on the basket while he was away. After a short time this got boring, and for recreation he began to throw his spear at different objects. In the end he threw it at the fish-trap as well, and when To Kabanana returned he found it partially destroyed. Indeed he scolded To Poruqo but he had to prepare the trap himself.

Then he showed his companion how to use it, and also taught him how the fish should be prepared and baked. Then he went into the forest. To Poruqo prepared the fish he caught, as he had been told, ate some of them and packed the rest into a basket to take to To Kabanana in the forest. On the way, he spotted a beautiful bird, and tried to knock it out of the tree by throwing stones. When there were no more stones available, he threw the baked fish at the bird, but of course in vain. Thus, through his thoughtless activity, he ruined what his companion with thought and care had planned.

The following legendary tales date from more recent times:

When the volcanic eruption occurred in Blanche Bay in 1878 and the small, flat Vulcan Island was formed, people in the village of Karavia opposite claimed to have seen spirits in human form on the island, going to and fro in the rising steam. After the eruption of the small undersea crater to which the island owes its existence, they disappeared as quickly as they had come. Old people still alive will not let this story die, and are firmly convinced that those who appeared on that occasion were the children of Kaije.

In 1901 the Bremen Lloyd steamer München ran onto a sandbank in the harbour when putting to sea from Matupi, and was refloated only after several hours. It so happened that on that evening there occurred a quite severe earthquake, and the Matupi people declared that the steamer had run up onto the tail of Kaije, who was lying on the sea floor in the form of a crocodile. Angered by this, Kaije had swung his tail to and fro thus causing the earthquake.

Long ago the Sulka did not know about fire. They ate all their meals raw, as nature had presented them. Night, too, was unknown at that time, and crickets, which chirp at night, did not exist; neither did the kau bird, which greets the dawn with his cries and whistles.

One day a man by the name of E Makong (Emkong) was lopping boughs off a tree on the bank of the Makong River. His kienho (an item of jewellery) fell into the water, and he climbed down the tree, laid his stone axe and loincloth on the grass and leapt into the water to retrieve his lost ornament. When he reached the bottom of the river, to his astonishment he found himself in a compound, where many people ran up to see the stranger. A man approached him and asked his name. ‘E Makong is my name,’ he replied, whereupon the questioner answered, ‘Oh, then you are my namesake, for I too am called E Makong.’ Then he led him into his yard and offered him a new loincloth. Greater still was the astonishment of E Makong when he saw fire for the first time, and he was overcome with great fear. Cooked bananas and taro were set before him, but at first he did not want to eat anything. After a long hesitation he finally tasted it; the cooked food pleased him and he ate to his heart’s content.

Gradually evening approached and it began to get dark, and the crickets sang their little song. He was very frightened and believed that he was going to die. But his fear grew extreme when detonations sounded all round him and the people were transformed into snakes which curled up and lay down to sleep. His namesake soothed him and said that he should not be frightened since this was their normal custom. It would soon be day again and they would turn back into humans. As he said this he gave a loud report, turned into a snake and lay down to sleep. E Makong was now alone in the dark among a lot of snakes, and afraid; but finally weariness overcame him and he fell asleep.

When the kau began to pipe and whistle, he awoke and saw that day was gradually breaking. Loud reports began to sound around him and the snakes assumed human form.

Makong, the host, then wrapped the night, fire, several kau birds and crickets into a little pack, which he gave to his guest to take home with him. Then he led him along the way. Makong soon found himself on the surface, and climbed onto the bank. He laid the fire in a field of grass, and, as it began to burn and crackle and the flames flared high in the air, all the people ran up in fear. Makong, whom they believed had drowned, then stepped forward, recounted his experiences and explained the use of fire to his people. He unpacked everything else and let the crickets and kau birds fly away, but, gradually as it became pitch-black night, the fear of the people knew no bounds. However, he pacified them, and over time the people grew accustomed to the new state of affairs.

The vong (cassowary) used to be able to fly, just like the other birds, but he lost this ability in the following way.

One day it rained heavily. The vong sat in a tree 300and let the raindrops run off. Along came the little bird a vit, and spoke to him as follows, ‘Grandfather, raise your wing in the air a little so that I can slip under and protect myself from the rain!’ The good-hearted vong granted the little one’s request straight away and the vit slipped nimbly under the wing. But he was a mischievous rogue and took needle and thread and sewed the upper wing of the vong firmly to its body. When he had finished he spoke again, ‘Grandfather, let me slip under your other wing, since it is dripping through here.’ The vong was quite happy and the vit hid under the other wing, which he fastened with needle and thread just like the other wing.

When the rain had stopped and the sun was shining again, the vit said to the vong, ‘Let’s fly away, for the weather is fine again!’ and he quickly slipped out of his shelter and flew away. When the vong wanted to follow he noticed to his horror what the vit had done; try as he might, he could not spread his wings and fly away. He fell to the ground, and since that time he has had to remain permanently on the ground.

The vong was very angry and called to the vit, ‘Just you wait, I will cast a spell on your droppings and then you will die.’

Now when the vit had to relieve himself he settled in the top of a tree so that his droppings could not fall on the ground to be bewitched by the vong, but would remain in the tree. But the droppings, hanging from a branch, gradually stretched into a long thread and transformed into a creeper, a gilengœi, with beautiful red flowers.

(This fable with slight variations is also known on the Gazelle Peninsula.)

The vukameak is a recluse among the birds, and he sits silently with his bill pinched together, alone in his hole in the rock. One day the other birds decided to do everything they could to make the vukameak laugh. They tried everything possible; the crow striped his whole body with charcoal, the gumbul ate earth, the gau made warts on his bill, but all was in vain, and nothing made the vukameak laugh. Without a change of expression he watched the crazy behaviour with bill tightly closed. Last came the green parrot; he had smeared his entire body with excrement, and presented himself in front of the vukameak. When the latter saw him, he finally had to laugh, opening his beak to do so. At the same moment something fell out, and the parrot was quickly on hand to catch and swallow it. When this had left the parrot through excretion and fell to the ground, a taro sprouted from it. The people found the plant, tended it and raised other taro plants from it. Thus, the taro gradually spread throughout the villages.

In two different neighbouring villages there lived two brothers of the same name. One, Nut vulau (Nut the elder), had two wives and many servants; the other, Nut sie (Nut the younger), was unmarried. He lived with his grandmother in a compound and had only ten servants.

One morning Nut sie got up, took his fishing spear, and went fishing. When he had caught three vulaupun he made his way home with them. On the way, his brother’s two wives met him, and when they saw the handsome young man they found him pleasing. They said to him, ‘Your brother’s taro are drying, he has sent us to catch crabs.’ He handed them his fish and said, ‘Take these fish and prepare them for your husband.’ They took the fish and went back home with them, but gave their husband only the crabs that they had caught, and ate the fish themselves.

Another day when Nut vulau was working with his people he sent his wives again to the sea to fetch salt water and catch crabs. Nut sie, who had gone fishing again, met them once more on the way home and again the women lusted after the handsome youth. He asked them, ‘Did you give my brother the fish?’ They answered in the affirmative, whereupon he again gave them fish for their husband. They met several times, and each time repeated the same routine as at their first meeting.

One day Nut vulau was again hard at work with his servants, and the women were sent to catch crabs as usual. Nut sie, who had also gone fishing, met the women again and, since they were now quite accustomed to him, they pestered him at length until he consented to have sexual relations with them. He painted the genitalia of his brother’s two wives with a coloured design. One day the elder brother noticed the drawing when one of the wives sprang over a fence, and his suspicion was immediately aroused. But to be more certain he set to and had a boat made, and, when it was ready, he ordered his wives and several of his people to go to sea in it. He remained on shore; as the women climbed into the boat he saw the designs clearly. Under the pretext that a storm was coming he called the boat crew back and made them land.

He then had whitish coconuts (a sil) brought down and new unpainted loincloths produced. He summoned all the people and gave them each a nut and a cloth so that they could make a design on both and then give them back to him. Nut sie received a nut and a garment also, but his designs were poor. When all the drawings had been returned Nut vulau inspected them, but none matched the pattern on the women. However, he had his suspicions about his brother, and had him draw another design. This time the pattern precisely matched those on the women, and now Nut vulau knew the perpetrator. Immediately he prepared for war, and his servants had to make weapons and shields. Nut sie and his servants also 301prepared for war. They made fine shields, painted them with bright colours and hemmed them round the edges; they also made handgrips on the reverse side. However, Nut vulau’s servants were very unskilled; their shields were ugly, and lacked hand-grips, so that they had to grasp them by the edges and hold them.

The grandmother, the old Tamus, wept and said, ‘Nut vulau will come with his servants and attack us!’ Nut sie replied, ‘Let them come, we will acquit ourselves well.’ Then the old woman made a spell from lime, which she smeared on the warriors. Nut sie spoke to his servants, ‘We will remain in our two houses and await the enemy; nobody will go outside. When the enemy arrives and I go outside, you will all follow me but we will stay close together, nobody will go off to the flanks.’

When the enemy arrived and drew nearer, Nut sie stepped out of the house and danced in front of the entrance swinging his shield. When Nut vulau saw his brother’s shield he was astonished at its beauty and said angrily to his servants, ‘You don’t understand anything; look at my brother’s shield, how beautiful it is.’ Meanwhile the servants of Nut sie all came out into the open, threw lime at the enemy and the battle began. As a result of the advice given, it ended with the total defeat of the attackers; all were killed, only Nut vulau survived. The victors looked at the shields of the slain and laughed; but Nut sie called to Nut vulau, ‘Go and get new warriors, we will do the same to them as we did to these.’

Nut vulau then assembled new warriors and attacked his brother again, but it turned out the same as the first attack, his people were killed and he alone survived.

Early next morning, at the cry of the kau, Nut sie got up and climbed a vanga tree. Calling in all directions he summoned the land and then went to inspect it. On returning home he said to his grandmother and his servants, ‘We will leave here and go to a new homeland.’ They made ready for the journey, took taro, bananas and other fruit, tied up their pigs and laid everything beneath the vanga tree. The following morning they set out, and soon came to a beautiful land where they settled.

Later, Nut sie cherished the hope of getting married, and he decided to carry off one of his brother’s wives. For this purpose he built a great bird, ngaininglaut, out of wood; it was hollow inside. When the bird was ready he slipped inside and flew away. The bird’s wingbeat was like the rushing of the wind and trees were uprooted. He climbed high in the air and from above he saw his brother’s gardens. Then he flew back home, went to his grandmother and said, ‘I looked down on my brother’s gardens, and I shall fly there to fetch one of his wives for myself.’ The grandmother gave good advice, saying, ‘Be careful! Do not fly close to the ground, and do not alight on low trees lest your brother kill you.’ Nut sie got into his bird and flew away.

Nut vulau was working with his servants when the bird came flying along. There was a roaring and blustering like a heavy gale and the banana plants were torn out of the ground and trees crashed down, so that the servants threw themselves on the ground in terror. Nut vulau, however, recognised his brother, and said, ‘I know you! I saw you in a dream! You have come to steal my wife.’ Nut sie flew to the wife, took her by the hand and flew away with her. She was very frightened but he calmed her and took her to his grandmother. At first the grandmother was not pleased, but she settled down over time. The woman bore Nut sie many children, and the tribe soon grew very large.

The following story about obtaining salt, half fable, half true, probably belongs here.

On the shore one of the Tumuip tribe had a house, which was split in two by a dividing wall. Only boys and youths could enter the front part of the hut; not married people. Only the owner of the house could enter the rear part of the house. Here a large fire burned under a framework on which lay a big piece of tree bark. The women drew sea water from the ocean and poured it into bamboo tubes placed at the hut entrance. The owner of the house poured the sea water onto the bark above the fire; meanwhile he chewed ginger and spat this onto it. The fire was maintained until the tree bark was crusted with salt. Then the people came to buy the salt, ralminmin. Salt is regarded as a great delicacy; it is also given to the pigs because it makes them big and fat. However, people avoid touching the ralminmin with their fingers, because they believe that skin diseases can develop from it.

In a certain place lived two mokpelpel, Kanmameing and his wife Lelmul, who ate everybody. The surviving inhabitants therefore decided to move away, and got into their boats to seek a new home. At this place there was a woman called Tamus, who was in an advanced stage of pregnancy, and the voyagers did not want to take her with them. But she was 302resolutely determined to go, and clung to a boat with her hands at the departure. They pushed her back and yelled, ‘The time of your confinement is near and you would only be a burden to us on the journey.’ Tamus went sadly back to the shore and built a dwelling out of kejang (a tall type of grass). Here she gave birth to a son, and when he had grown somewhat she left him in the house while she worked nearby. However, she told him never to talk or laugh lest Kanmameing and Lelmul hear him and come to eat him up.

One day as she went to work, she gave her son a pûpál (a species of Dracaena) for him to play with in her absence. The boy looked at it and said to himself, ‘What shall I make out of this plant, a brother or a cousin? I know, I shall make a cousin!’ During these words he had held the plant behind him, and he suddenly felt as if somebody had scratched his hands. He looked round in amazement and saw a handsome boy standing behind him. At first the latter was shy and said nothing, but soon a casual conversation was in full swing. The mother heard it and, believing that her son was talking loudly to himself, she called to him, ‘Be quiet, or the two mokpelpel will come and devour us.’ The boy named his cousin Pupal, because he had been created from a pûpál; however, he did not share the event with his mother immediately, and decided to keep Pupal hidden from her for a while. He therefore went to her and said, ‘Mother, I want to erect a dividing wall in our hut, and then you can live in one part while I stay in the other.’ The mother agreed with this, and the boy divided the hut with a wall. Then Tamus’ son went to his mother again and said, ‘Mother I am hungry; bring me sugar cane and bananas!’ The mother brought them. Now, when the two boys were sucking out the sugar cane, the mother heard all the noisy eating and called, ‘My son, is anybody with you? I can hear a lot of noisy eating.’ – ‘I am alone, mother, and I alone am eating so noisily,’ answered her son. Then, when the pair drank water, the mother heard a lot of swallowing. However, in answer to her questioning, the boy protested once more that he was completely alone.

This went on for a while, and the mother had no idea of the presence of Pupal. At the son’s request, Tamus allowed him to lay out his own garden, and then both boys were able to work together and talk to their hearts’ content, joking and laughing without the mother hearing them. One day when the mother unexpectedly brought the son his food, she saw to her great astonishment the strange, handsome boy and, full of amazement, she said, ‘Who is this, and where does he come from?’ The son replied, ‘Mother, do you remember the pûpál that you gave me as a toy one day? This handsome boy came out of it!’ Now the mother knew the secret and from then on all the onerous barriers in their relationships could be brought down. However, she was concerned that the two mokpelpel could easily discover them, and warned the two boys, ‘Children, do not talk so loudly, otherwise the mokpelpel will find us and devour us.’ But the children answered, ‘Oh, we are not frightened! Let them come, we will destroy them.’ Tamus was astonished at this self-confidence in the two boys, and worried about it a lot when she was alone.

But the pair were very serious about killing Kanmameing and Lelmul. However, they kept their plans secret at the start, but made all the necessary preparations.

First they build a dwelling, a rik, for Tamus, and a men’s house, a ngaulu, for their own use. Then they made shields and spears, and practised throwing the spears. Their initial shields, however, were made from soft wood, and so they made fine new shields from the wood of the guip tree, and hung them up in the house. Next, they felled msa trees, and used the trunks to erect a barricade in front of the entrance to the compound. At this point they invoked very hot weather, so that the bark of the basika tree became very hard; they next invoked heavy rain so that the bark of the msa tree became very slippery. The mother, who did not know what all this was for, looked on in amazement, and finally asked what they actually intended to do. ‘We want to kill the two mokpelpel!’ answered Pupal. Tamus warned, ‘Children, do not annoy those two.’ But Pupal continued, ‘Just let them come, we will be ready for them.’

When all their preparations were complete, the two boys climbed into a swing that they had made in a tree on a slope not far from their compound. They swung here and called with loud voices, ‘Oh Kanmameing and Lelmul! Oh where are you hiding? Come and eat us!’ But in her hut Tamus shook with fear. Lelmul, who was outside while her husband was in the house sharpening his teeth, was first to hear the youths shouting. She went to her husband and said, ‘Can’t you hear? We are being called. Who can it be? Haven’t we eaten all the people around here?’ Kanmameing then took both his fangs, put them in his mouth, and set off in the direction from which the call came. Lelmul followed him. With his two fangs, he cut down the bushes on both sides, and made a wide path.

Meanwhile Pupal said to his companion, ‘Stay in the swing and call again!’ Meanwhile he climbed down, took several lances and lay in ambush. When the giants were close he called, ‘Come down quickly! They are here. You take the woman, I will attack the man.’ When the mokpelpel came, and tried to climb the barricade, they slid down and fell on the ground; a big piece of wood fell down on Kanmameing. Pupal then stepped forward, and Kanmameing sprang up and tried to catch him with his fangs to devour him. Pupal was agile, however, 303and slipped between the giant’s legs. Meanwhile Tamus’s son had thrown his lance at Lelmul and pierced her right through. While she was still struggling on the ground he wanted to finish her off, but Pupal called to him, ‘Leave her and come and help me!’ He hurried up quickly, and they both threw their well-aimed spears at Kanmameing, but only after he had been pierced many times did he fall to the ground. The two lying on the ground, were killed stone dead with much derision and many insults. Then Tamus was summoned, and the youths said, ‘Look, they are both dead.’ With great jubilation, a huge fire was made, and the dismembered corpses of the mokpelpel were burnt.

They cut off Lelmul’s breasts, laid them in a coconut shell which they floated in the sea, saying, ‘Go to the people who went away from here, and when they ask, “Have the mokpelpel slain Tamus, and are these her breasts?” continue floating on the water. But if they ask, “Did Tamus give birth to a son, and did he kill the mokpelpel, and are these the breasts of Lelmul?” sink immediately.’

The coconut shell floated away and came to the people who had left. They looked at the shell with the breasts and asked, ‘Has Tamus been killed by the mokpelpel and are these her breasts?’ The coconut shell made a sign of denial and remained afloat on the water. Then the people asked, ‘Did Tamus give birth to a son who killed the mokpelpel, and has he sent us the breasts of Lelmul?’ Immediately the shell sank, and the people then cried joyfully, ‘Now the two giants are dead! Let us go back to our old home!’ They immediately prepared for the voyage and set off in their canoes. When they reached their homeland, the two boys did not want to let them land. They threw stones at them and Tamus’s son called out, ‘You did not want to take my mother with you when her baby was due; when you fled from here you pushed her back. Now we do not accept you; go back where you came from.’ However, the people would not be intimidated, but landed and again lived happily in their homeland.

Two brothers lived together in a village. The younger was very clever, and could turn himself into a cockatoo by using a magic spell that he knew; the elder, on the other hand, was a braggart, did not understand sorcery, and knew no spells. Not far from this village, an old married mokpelpel couple had settled. Their hut stood beneath a coconut palm, and their property consisted of a large pig.

One day Blakas (as he was called, because of his skill,) turned himself into a cockatoo, and in his favourite form cried, ‘kah, kah, kah’, and flew into the coconut palm beneath which stood the mokpelpel’s hut. He bit off a nut and let it fall onto the hut; it fell through the roof into the hut. The elderly woman said to her husband, who could not see well because of his age, ‘A cockatoo is perched in the coconut palm; go outside and chase him away.’ The old man went outside, struck the trunk of the palm, clapped his hands, then came back inside, saying, ‘He has flown away.’ Then the cockatoo again bit off a nut, and it fell through the roof and into the hut. The elderly woman became angry, and again sent her husband out to chase away the cockatoo. The old man did exactly the same as before, then came back inside and said, ‘He has definitely gone away this time!’

But it did not last long, and again a coconut flew into the hut. The old woman sprang up enraged, scolded her husband and yelled, ‘You old fool, you can’t see anything any more; the cockatoo is indeed still there.’ With these words she rushed outside, but was very surprised when she looked up and spotted a man at the top of the palm tree, for Blakas had quickly assumed his human form. Amazed, the elderly woman called out, ‘That is no cockatoo; it is a man!’ and turning to her husband she ordered him, ‘Climb up and bring him down so that we can eat him.’ The old man then climbed up, but when he had reached Blakas and was in the process of grabbing him, the latter stepped on his head and knocked him down, calling to the woman, ‘There is one that you can eat.’ In her anger the woman immediately seized hold of the one that had fallen and devoured him, without first checking who it was. Then Blakas called to her, ‘You have eaten your own husband.’ Then he changed into a cockatoo again, cried, ‘kah, kah, kah,’ and flew away back to his garden, taking a number of coconuts with him. In the garden he assumed human form, scraped the coconuts into taro leaves and took them home. When he got there he began to eat, and his brother asked him what he had there. He gave some to his brother, who ate it with great pleasure, and asked where it came from. Blakas then told of his adventure and added, ‘Had it been you, they would have devoured you!’ The brother answered, ‘Who would be afraid of your mokpelpel?’ – ‘Good,’ said the other, ‘Go and try it.’ – ‘I will go first thing in the morning,’ replied the elder brother.

The following morning he set out along the path to the mokpelpel’s hut, crept to the coconut palm and climbed up it without being noticed. His brother, Blakas, who loved him very much and knew well that great danger threatened him, went meanwhile into the forest, and with his magic drum called the dogs, wild pigs, wallabies, biting ants and other animals together, and led them all in the direction of the mokpelpel’s hut where he hid with them. Meanwhile, the one up the tree had plucked off a coconut and thrown it down. The mokpelpel looked up, spotted him and called out, ‘Are you still there? I thought that you had gone. Just you wait, I will get you down and eat you.’ She thought that it was the same visitor as the previous day. The one up the tree answered, full of confidence, 304‘Climb up to me; I will knock you down.’ The old one climbed up, grasped his foot and pulled him down; his struggles were of no use, he could not free himself. Once down on the ground, a life and death struggle began. The mokpelpel fastened her fangs into his body, and threatened to devour him. Blakas, who was watching the struggle, realised that his brother was on the point of being overcome, and he began to beat his drum. The mokpelpel started up, but already all the beasts who had been summoned had fallen upon her, and she had to get away as quickly as possible.

‘You see,’ said Blakas to his brother, who was shaking all over, ‘if I had not come quickly, the mokpelpel would have eaten you.’ – ‘Oh,’ said the latter, ‘I would have finished her off. Didn’t you see what she did, out of fear?’ He meant, what he himself had done. But Blakas had seen everything, and did not believe a word. Then they tied the mokpelpel’s pig, took anything else of use from the hut and went home with their booty.

There was once a boy who suffered greatly; his name was Loel. His mother had died; he lived in the compound of his father, who had remarried. His father and stepmother were very miserly, and gave the poor boy nothing to eat; he had to look for his own food. Often when they were both eating, he would ask if they would give him something, but the request was always in vain. If he asked his father for something, he would refer him to his stepmother. If he asked her, she would refer him to his father, and so it went on every day, even though he begged and pleaded so pathetically.

One day Loel had set bird lime and caught several birds, which he prepared. When they were cooked, he began to eat them. Earlier, his parents had given the usual mealtime reply. As he was eating, they saw that it was something tasty and they went up to him. His father said, ‘Son I have worried myself to death about feeding you; give me a piece of your birds.’ Loel replied, ‘Get something from your wife!’ Then the stepmother came with the same request, but she was given the answer, ‘Get something from your husband!’

Then the parents became very angry, and went out to summon evil spirits to eat their son. Meanwhile Loel sat on his bench, expecting no harm. A bug crawled up and bit him. He turned round angrily, to see what had bitten him. How surprised he was to see a bug, which began to speak, ‘Why are you so angry, and why do you shower abuse on me? Listen to what I have to say to you. Your father and stepmother have gone to fetch evil spirits to eat you.’ Then the bug crawled away. Loel, however, was not very frightened, because he could turn into a grasshopper (loel = grasshopper). He quickly did so, chewed a hole in a piece of wood, and crawled inside.

Soon he heard his parents coming with the evil spirits, and, when they could not find him, they called out, ‘Loel, where are you?’ – ‘Here I am!’ he called from his hiding place. They searched the entire house but found nothing; during the search 305they had thrown out the piece of wood in which Loel was hiding. Again and again they called out, ‘Loel, where are you?’ and again and again came the answer, ‘Here I am!’ In time this became so boring for the evil spirits that they ate the father and the evil stepmother.

The following story has a lot in common with a previous one that talks about the origin of fire. It goes as follows: Mugowan was paddling in a canoe on the Mewlu with several of his friends. On the way he skewered a fish with his fish spear, but the fish swam away with the spear and disappeared in the flood. Then Mugowan sprang out of the canoe and dived under the water to retrieve his spear. When he reached the bottom he suddenly found himself among many spirits who were sweeping the bottom, and, when they saw him, they rushed up to see the stranger whom nobody knew, and they asked one another, ‘Who might this be?’ Among them, Mugowan recognised his uncle, Koutol, who, when he spotted his nephew, recognised him; but they both kept quiet until Koutol finally said, ‘Don’t you know him? This is Mugowan.’ The spirits asked him, ‘Are you dead, then?’ But Mugowan remained silent. Finally they said, ‘You are a living person!’ And Koutol added, ‘Go! When you are dead you will live here among us.’ Then the spirits guided him on the way back, and he climbed out. Meanwhile his friends had been looking for him. When they saw him climbing out they spoke joyfully to him, but he could not speak because he had been speaking with spirits. They laid him in the canoe, took him to the mouth of the river, chopped wood and made a big fire. They laid him beside it until he became warm. Then they said to one another, ‘If we stay here the Saktai will attack us and kill Mugowan; let us go to the island where we are safer.’ They did this, and when they arrived they prepared food, but Mugowan did not want to eat anything. The following morning they paddled back home in their canoe and called Mugowan’s wives and children. They were inconsolable and spoke reproachfully, ‘Why did you dive in after your spear!’ Mugowan began to speak again and said, ‘When we die, we go to the bottom of the Mewlu and live there. Whatever we say up above they can hear down below, while up above we can hear nothing of what they say down below. It is a splendid place, with many pigs, breadfruit, coconuts and betel nuts, bananas and all good things.’

From the Admiralty Islands we know, from the mouth of the native, Po Minis, a great number of stories which I will set down here.

The name, Tjaw’mu (not Tshebamu) is the designation for the high, universally visible mountain range occupying part of the main island north of the island of Ndruval. It is said of Tjaw’mu that, ages and ages ago, it was in the process of growing higher. Getting bigger and bigger, it would finally have grown into the sky, had a snake, which was lying on its crest not prevented it. The snake had noticed this secret growth and forbidden the mountain from doing it. Now that the mountain realised that his secret, which had remained undetected under cover of continuous night, was discovered, it suddenly became daylight and the mountain grew no further. Then the mountain spoke to the snake, ‘I wanted to climb into the sky, but you forbade me. Your language will now become different, and mine will become different, and our descendants will all speak different languages.’

They tell the following story about Mount P’unda in the Usiai region, not far from Tjaw’mu mountain: In early times two giants, the sons of Nimeï and Niwong, the progenitors of the islanders, wanted this mountain to tower up to the sky. They dragged huge boulders up to the top, and piled them one on another. However, a snake lived in the caves and crevices on the mountain. It was unnoticed by the giants, but the snake had noticed their intention, and decided to foil them. It slithered out of its hiding place, and ordered one of the giants from henceforth to work for it, but it allowed the other one to haul stones as before. However, he was annoyed that his friend had been taken away, and the following night he loaded himself up with a mighty boulder and went away with it. By daybreak he had reached the Papitálai region and decided to erect the boulder as a boundary marker. With great force he threw the boulder on the ground and called out, ‘Sea, divide the land! One part for those two (the snake and the other giant); one part for me!’ Immediately the sea rushed in from north and south, meeting at the foot of the boulder, which can still be seen today, in the region of Papitálai, and is called Tjaretánkor (= land cut).

The giant who had remained with the snake was frightened, and said to it, ‘Why have you banished my friend? You are a snake, not a man; you are not a companion of equal birth.’ The snake felt put down by these words, and wanted to demonstrate its superiority to the giant. It said, ‘Go, fetch your meal and cook it; I want to watch.’ The giant went away, took his net and began to catch fish, which he took back to the snake. Then the snake said, ‘Prepare your fish; I want to see how you start.’ The giant took a fish, laid it in the sun to let it dry, and then ate it half-raw. The snake laughed at this and said, ‘You are truly an evil spirit; you would even eat me.’ The giant became angry and replied, ‘My father is no evil spirit, I am a human child!’ But the snake replied in a tone inspiring trust, ‘Crawl into my stomach!’ And it opened its mouth wide. The giant summoned up his courage and crawled inside. 306He found firewood within, and pieces of wood for rubbing together. He saw taro, sugar cane and many good things, causing his heart to leap for joy. He dragged a little of everything into the daylight, rubbed the sticks to make fire, on which he roasted the taro, and sucked the juice of the sugar cane while he waited for the taro to cook. When the meal was ready, the giant and the snake tasted it, and the snake said, ‘Whose meal is better, yours or mine?’ And the giant had to admit that the snake’s meal was better.

Since the snake guarded the compound exclusively, all the work fell on the man, who had soon had enough, and reviled the snake. When the snake heard this, it asked, ‘Why are you insulting me? Had I not been here you would already have been dead. Through the good food that I have provided for you, you have grown strong. See, I will go away and you will remain on our land.’ Then the snake wriggled down to the shore and swam through the sea to a distant land.

The great spirit above the clouds was originally completely alone. Then he noticed on earth forty men from Laues, who were scuffling together and hurling insults back and forth. He plaited a large disc from rattan with a rope attached, and lowered the disc to the ground. During the night he climbed down the rope, laid the sleeping men on the disc, and climbed back up. He used the rope to pull up the disc and the sleeping men. He laid them on their beds and hid the disc in the top of a tree. Then he closed up his house, and went into the forest to prepare sago for the men. When he had prepared a sufficient quantity, he hid it in the forest and went back home. When he got there, he spoke to the forty men but they were very frightened. He tried to calm them down, and then went back into the forest. Meanwhile the group became hungry and sent one of their number out to get food. When he reached the forest he saw the prepared sago hanging from the trees, and hurried back. However, he said to his companions, ‘My brothers! This evil spirit is going to devour us; in the forest he is chopping up garnishes that he will eat as well as us.’ They were very frightened and wailed in grief. Then a dog said to them, ‘Why are you weeping?’ They replied, ‘We are frightened because your master is preparing side dishes in the forest and is going to eat us up.’ Then the dog took pity on them and said, ‘Look, there is the disc that you were pulled up in, and there is the door.’ The men pulled the disc out of the top of the tree, lowered it on the rope and slid one behind the other down to earth. Thirty-nine escaped, only the fortieth remained behind and said, ‘When you arrive, you must come to an agreement between our two groups, for we will certainly begin a fight among ourselves.’

When the spirit returned and found only one man, Po Tjutju, he asked, ‘Where are our people?’ Po Tjutju replied, ‘They have gone into the forest.’ However, the spirit realised what had happened, and said, ‘Do not lie to me!’ Then he grabbed a stick and began to thrash Po Tjutju, who was sitting on a drum. Po Tjutju sprang onto a bamboo bed but there too the blows rained on his back. He sprang onto the fireplace, vainly seeking refuge, and finally he made a leap through the open door, constantly pursued by the angry spirit who thrashed away at him without stopping. Then Po Tjutju made a leap into the air where the wind caught him and carried him gently to the ground like a leaf. When his friends saw him coming, they ran to meet him. He said, ‘Brothers! The dog is kind, he has saved us. You had little to put up with, while I have endured a hard struggle. I sat on the drum and he beat me; the drum boomed. I leapt on to the bamboo bed and he beat me so that it rattled. He beat me at the fireplace, and it blazed; he beat me in the open doorway and shining light arose.’

The spirit was very angry, and plaited a new disc to let down to earth. Then the moon stood in front of the doorway and the shadow of the disc left an imprint on the moon’s shining disc.

Once a boy fashioned a female figure out of sand on the beach. A spirit entered the sand figure and it stood up. Whenever the boy came to the beach it lay down, but when he went home it stood up. Finally the boy was enticed to have sexual relations with the figure, and the spirit twisted his neck until he died.

On the island of Patuam, one of the Horne Islands, the sand figure is visible to this day.

An evil spirit from Péhëu lay hidden. Two men were returning at night from fishing. One lay down to sleep, the other carried the gear ashore and then wanted to relaunch the canoe. However, he pushed against one end in vain, for the evil spirit held fast to the other end. He renewed his effort fruitlessly, for the invisible evil spirit always foiled his attempts. The man flew into a great rage over this, seized an axe and destroyed the canoe. Then, when he wanted to go into his house the evil spirit attacked him. He cried loudly for help, but the spirit held his mouth closed and said, ‘Eat my h…!’ [Probably hoden: balls (Translator)]. The man answered, ‘Who would want to eat your h…? Your h… are stale.’ Then the spirit said again, ‘Eat my h… as a man eats a fish,’ but the man still refused. Then the spirit said, ‘If you won’t do as I tell you, I will eat you up. Come, follow me to my compound.’ The spirit lay down to sleep and commanded, ‘Look for lice!’ When he had fallen fast asleep the man bound him fast to the bed frame by the strands of his hair, and escaped, climbing Mount Ndr’tjun and singing, ‘The evil spirit from Péhëu wanted to eat a man. Where is the man that he wanted to eat? The spirit is bound fast by his hair!’

When the spirit awoke and tried to stand up, he had to drag his bed frame behind him, and since it was heavy he flew into a rage and cried, ‘I am a fool, blinded by stupidity; why did I not eat the man straight away. Oh, his tongue, what a morsel, my mouth waters at the thought!’ And, beside himself with rage, he crushed his h… and died.

Hi Kalemuindr and Po Samitanpun paddled out to sea to catch turtles. The woman sat in the canoe while the man dived to the sea floor. He let himself down by a long rattan rope that he attached round his body, with the other end made fast to the canoe. While the man was below, the woman fell asleep, the rope broke and the canoe drifted out to sea. The chief Halives and his people noticed it. They paddled out to it, found the woman asleep and asked, ‘Where have you come from?’ She replied, ‘I have come from the west. My husband and I went fishing for turtles, but while he was diving I fell asleep and the west wind has driven me to you.’ Halives made her his wife and took her to Jap (Halives’ homeland).

When Po Samitanpun surfaced, he did not find his canoe, and swam ashore. He carved a bird out of wood and sent it off with the words, ‘Fly to Jap and search for your mother!’ The bird flew to Jap but did not find its mother but numerous crabs instead. It ate some and grew strong. Then it flew back and reported, ‘Father I did not find my mother.’ The father said, ‘Come closer to me,’ and when the bird obeyed the father sniffed his breath and cried angrily, ‘Yes, just as I thought, you have not found your mother; but you have eaten crabs.’ When the bird heard this reproach, it flew away enraged. Po Samitanpun then carved a sea eagle and said to it, ‘Fly away and find your mother! She is called Hi Kalemuindr, and when you see her, say to her that she should come to me.’ The sea eagle flew away to Jap and perched on a tree there. It shook the tree so that the fruit fell to the ground, and when the women heard it they ran to gather the fruit. When they returned to the village, laden, Hi Kalemuindr asked if someone would give her some of the fruit; but the women refused, and said, ‘Do you not have legs? Go yourself, and get fruit!’ She went to the tree with some other women. The sea eagle heard her name and immediately flew down to the ground, caught Hi Kalemuindr by the leg and flew away with her. On the way the sea eagle dropped down so that the water wet the leg of the woman, who cried out, ‘My son, my son, I am falling into the water!’ The sea eagle replied, ‘Do you trust the strength of my talons so little?’ It rose higher, and took the woman to Po Samitanpun. However, instead of being grateful he showered the sea eagle with reproaches, and said that it wanted to harm the woman at sea. The sea eagle was enraged at this and flew away.

Had injustice not been done to the sea eagle, it would have continued to bring back those shipwrecked on distant islands. However, Po Samitanpun had done so great a wrong that shipwreck victims nevermore returned, but had to remain wherever they had gone ashore.