From Tanala Folklore
After the harvest of the hill rice, at the end of the month Valasira (April), the Tanala return to their villages which have been abandoned for six months while the people lived at the tavy (burned clearing for rice). From May to July, when the cultivation of beans begins, the Tanala stay in their villages and do no work. On good evenings the people have their meal in common in the public square of the village. After the meal, the children gather around the old people and these tell them stories and proverbs. This is one of the stories they tell:
Ramangavato had two wives, Pelakatratroka, who was head wife, and Pelakasoa. Pelakatratroka had a son, Rangorobemana. Pelakasoa had two sons, Andriamanikandro and Andriamanibola. When Rangorobemana grew up, he married two wives, Rasoatombozato and Toibolaharea. His brothers stole his wives and carried them away overseas. Randorobemana was desperate and went sadly to the forest to make a tavy. He lit a great fire and the smoke rose even to Zanahary (God, or a God). The first year Zanahary said nothing. The second year he was angry and sent the fody, the small parrot, the crow and many other birds to put out the fire, but, because they were accustomed to live on the earth, they did not return. Finally Zanahary sent one called Rahino, with a heavy rain. “In putting out my fire you are making me die,” said Rangorobemana to Rahino. “You would do well to kill me.” “I have not the right to kill you,” answered Rahino, and he returned to the sky to lay Rangorobemana’s complaint before Zanahary.
“If he does not make another tavy,” said Zanahary, “and if he takes another wife, he will have a son. Still, at the moment of the birth I advise him to plant a pointed bamboo stake in front of the mother. If he does not, the child will come out by her head.”
Rangorobemana married again and after a year a child was born. They wanted to receive the child on a mat, but he went out through the door and stood upright to the east of the houses. There he asked for the spear and shield of his father. He shook the spear once, and the speak broke. He threw the shield into the air and when he caught it again, it broke. Wishing to show his courage, he climbed the sacrifice post, and the post bent and fell to earth. Finally, he struck the post of the granary with his head, and the granary fell.
The boy’s father named him Milolaza. When he grew up he made a spear which he called teteza beranohitay merik andro (meaning that he could use its shaft for a bridge in time of flood or as fire-wood when it rained; a reference to its vast size). He also made an axe which he called tifia alarobia tsinin alahady (lit: “forged Wednesday and repaired Sunday”).
Later, Rangorobemana had two daughters. He named one Tehandova (lit: “to wish to inherit”) and the other Teholova (lit: “to wish to be inherited”).
Once Rangorobemana told his son Milolaza to go to the forest and gather firewood. Instead he broke the handle of his spear in two and used that for fuel. Half of it was enough to keep a newly delivered mother warm for a week. (A reference to the Tanala practice of “roasting” women immediately after childbirth).
One day he asked his father to give him a slave so that he could offer it as a prize to anyone who was willing to fight with him. “There is no need for that,” said Rangorobemana. “If you are so brave, go fight with the wild animals in the forest.” He went and took his two sisters with him. He told them to prepare food while he went to make a tavy in the forest. A few moments later Tangidibemola, a great monster of the region, appeared before the two girls and growled: “Who dares to enter my territory? I am the only master of the forest. If I have big eyes, it is because of my vigilance. If I have big feet, it is because of the constant journeys I make over my territory. If I want to rest, I sit on the point of a spear. If a bit of dust falls in my eye, I take it out with a needle. When I am angry, the forest burns and all the lakes dry up.” The two girls were frightened and fled. The next day the three returned to the same place. Milolaza said to his sisters: “If you are afraid, go make the tavy and I will cook the food.” Tangidibemola appeared before him raging and made the same boasts. Milolaza struck him with his magic axe and the monster died. The three returned to the village and announced to their father the death of the monster.
Miloaza then sought out Retsefa (not previously mentioned) and said: “If you dare to fight with me, I will give you that slave.” “Good,” said Retsefa. “Good,” said Milolaza, “but I warn you in advance that I will pursue you to the end. Our fight will not end until one land snail has eaten a liana as big around as a man. It will not end until the horn of a gnat grows to be as big as a barrel. I will not leave you until the head of the ana (a small plant used as greens) is big enough to make a rat guard for a granary.” “Keep your slave,” said Retsefa, “I won’t fight with you.”
When Milolaza returned home, his father said: “If you are so brave, go find Songotriparilava. His belt is twisted from nettles and his clothing is made from thorny vines.” Milolaza sought out Songotriparilava and challenged him to fight for a wager. He accepted. Said Milolaza: “Before we begin, I warn you that our fight will not end until one of use becomes so small that he must climb on a rice mortar to milk a sora (a small insectivor, slightly larger than a rat). It will not end until the fat from one lark is enough to fill eight calabashes. It will not end until the milk of an ant will fill a milk gourd. Until that time, I will pursue you.” “Keep your slave,” said Songotriparilava, “I will not wrestle with you.”
Milolaza returned home and asked his father who was the most redoubtable man or monster of the region. “God find Andriambo of Ambodiria,” his father said. He challenged Andriambo, who accepted. “Before we fight,” said Milolaza, “I warn you that our battle will not end until one can do up honey in the lead of the anjavidy (not identified). It will not end until fish go on land and bees make combs in the water.” Andriambo also refused combat.
Milolaza returned to his father. “All the champions are now defeated,” he said. “I will now go and fight Andriamanikandro and Andriamanibola, who stole your wives. Where do they live?” “On the other side of the sea,” his father answered.
Milolaza made a huge shield. He brought it back to the village and tried whether he could maneuver it. He threw it into the air and it went so high that hawks perched on its top and the wild bees built their nests below. Then he went to get his father’s wives from those who had stolen them.
He crossed the sea and finally arrived at the village of the two brothers. He stealthily approached the spring where the village got its water and found an old woman there. He killed and flayed her. Then he put on her skin and sat down above the spring. The women of the village, coming to the spring, saw a stranger there and were afraid and turned back. Finally Komondio, the grandmother of the brothers, went to the spring herself. She brought the supposed old woman to the village. “Where did you get that old hag?” Andriamanikandro demanded. “It is a poor woman I found by the spring.” “Take her to your own house then, she has a bad smell,” said Andriamanibola; so Komondio took the false old woman to her house.
“Tomorrow we will tramp the rice fields,” Andriamanikandro said to his grandmother (i.e., drive cattle back and forth over them to reduce the soil to soft mud). “Stay in the village and give food to that hag.” “I will go with you,” said Milolaza. “No,” said Komondio, “stay in the house or you may be hurt by the cattle.” “I will not go down into the rice field,” said Milolaza, “I will stay on the dike.” When they came to the rice fields Milolaza got into a dispute with Andriamanikandro over an eel which they had found in the mud. Both seized it and pulled and it broke in two in the middle. “That is no old woman,” said Andriamanikandro, “I will kill her.” However, his grandmother would not permit it.
“Tomorrow we are going to the chase,” said Andriamanibola to Komondio, “stay in the village with your friend.” “I will go there, too,” said Milolaza. “Don’t go,” said Komondio. “The wild pigs of Ankazomaiadiloha are so numerous that you have to swim to cross their urine and to wade to the breast in their excrement.” Nevertheless, Milolaza went with the two brothers. Andriamanikandro placed himself in the pig run. Andriamanibola made a circuit, to drive the pigs and make them pass in front of Milolaza. Milolaza struck the pigs with his right hand and the dogs with his left, killing them all. The brothers were furious at the death of their dogs and wanted to kill him, but Komondio opposed them.
“Tomorrow we will go to the kibory (tomb of the gens) to pray to our ancestors.” said Andriamanikandro to his grandmother. “Send your wives to my house,” said Komondio, “and we will pound rice.” When the women had come to Komondio’s house, Milolaza took off his disguise and said to Rasoatombozato and Toibolaharea: “I am the son of Rangorobemana and I have come seeking for you. Follow me.” The two women went with him.
When the brothers returned, the grandmother told them: “Your wives were carried off by force by the false old woman.” “I will pursue them,” said Andriamanikandro. After a little he caught up with them and threw his spear at Milolaza. Milolaza parried the cast, turning to all sides. The spear followed him and finally fixed itself in a rock in the middle of the sea. Milolaza, in turn, thew his spear at Andriamanikandro. He fled, but the spear followed him unceasingly. At last it passed through the trunk of a banana tree, through the belly of an ox, and fixed itself in the sacrifice post to the east of his house. “We are equal,” said Andriamanikandro. “I have never seen an enemy equal to you. We will make blood brotherhood, then you may take the women back to your father.” Thus by heroism and cunning Milolaza delivered his father’s wives from the hands of his rivals.
Source:
The Tanala: A Hill Tribe of Madagascar, Ralph Linton, 1933
Kotharian Lightning 