From the Maori Folklore of the Cook Islands
There lived in Avaiki, or nether world, a fierce she-demon, named Miru, who, envious of the great fame of Ngaru, resolved to destroy him in her fearful, ever-blazing oven. But before enjoying this horrid banquet, it was needful to decoy him into her domains. Nor did this seem difficult. She at once directed two Tapairu, or peerless ones – her daughters – to ascend to this upper world to induce the brave Ngaru to marry them both. Numutonga-i-te-po (Kumutonga-of-the-night), and Karaia-i-te-ata (Karaia-the-shadowy), were to induce him to pay a visit to the shades in their agreeable society: once there, his fate was sealed in Miru’s estimation. On their entering the dwelling of Moko, Ngaru feigned to be asleep, whilst his grandfather tried to discover their real intent. They averred that their mother, Miru, had sent them to escort Ngaru to Avaiki; that as soon as they arrived, Ngaru was to be united to both these “peerless women,” with whom the daughters of mortals could not for a moment be compared.
Moko, suspecting the real nature of their visit, sought to gain time by exercising the utmost hospitality to his unwonted guests. Whilst these fairy women were enjoying themselves, the king of lizards (Moko) sent his servants, i.e. all the little lizards, on a secret mission to Miru’s domains in the under world to ascertain what dangerous weapons were at her disposal, and what were her usual avocations. Off scampered the little lizards in all possible haste; and on arriving at Avaiki, unperceived by Miru, they noticed that the old, deformed, and inexpressibly ugly hag had a house full of kava (piper mythisticum), kept exclusively for the purpose of stupefying her intended victims, who were eventually cooked in her mighty oven, and eaten by herself, her fair children, and her servants. These little keen-sighted lizards safely returned to this upper world, and reported to their sovereign what they had discovered. Moko privately told this to his son, and admonished him to be careful, or he would infallibly perish, as multitudes had done before him. As evening drew on, all three started off on their journey to the land of Miru in the shades. The mode of transit was peculiar. These “peerless ones” had with them rolls of finest tapa, in which they insisted upon wrapping up their future husband; they then secured the bundle well with cords, and slung to a long pole, carried off Ngaru in triumph. After some time Kumutonga-of-the-night and Karaia-the-shadowy began to ascend a mountain named “The heavenly,” when the imprisoned husband became conscious of a steep and sudden movement, and prayed thus:
Put me down, put me down.
Set me free, set me free.
Oh that I had liberty
To gaze on this mountain!
‘Tis surely the mountain spoken of
By my grandfather, “The long-Lizard;”
And by my mother Vaiare (stay-at-home).
And by my wife, “The fair Tongan.”
To this Kumutonga and Kraia responded:
Thou shalt be forthwith devoured!
Thy body shall rot on this “Heavenly mountain,”
Thy spirit shall be borne to the shades,
To furnish a repast for our mother Miru.
To this Ngaru replied:
Tis thus you treat your intended husband!
Again wrapping up and cording their intended victim, they bore him to another spur of the same mountain. Conscious of this, the imprisoned victim again prayed to be released:
Put me down, put me down.
Set me free, set me free.
Oh that I had liberty
To gaze on this mountain!
‘Tis surely the mountain spoken of
By my grandfather, “The long-Lizard;”
And by my mother Vaiare (stay-at-home).
And by my wife, “The fair Tongan.”
To this Kumutonga and Kraia responded:
Thou shalt be forthwith devoured!
Thy body shall rot on this “Heavenly mountain,”
Thy spirit shall be borne to the shades,
To furnish a repast for our mother Miru.
To this Ngaru replied, “ ‘Tis thus you treat your intended husband!” At this the “peerless ones” again seized upon Ngaru, wrapped him again in numerous folds of tapa, and well securing their victim with cords, bore him along until, reaching a shady grove of chestnut trees, they set him down and unfastened the cords. These fairy women now hastened to fetch some kava, named “Miru’s own,” and gave it to him to chew. Ngaru chewed the whole, and still, to their amazement, remained wakeful and active: on him alone of the children of men the powerful narcotic failed to produce its usual effects. The ever-blazing oven of Miru was ready for its victim. The voice of the pitiless Miru was now heard: “Kumutonga-og-the-night and Karaia-the-shadowy, bring along your husband; the over of Miru is waiting for him.” At these words Ngaru put on the girdle his grandfather had wisely provided for his use. Thus equipped, the dauntless visitor from the upper world proceeded in search of the hag Miru and her dread oven. At this juncture the voice of the anxious Moko was heard in the shades: “Return, Ngaru – yonder is the oven in which she means to cook you.” Heedless of this warning, the brave visitor went on his way, and finding the red-hot stones of the over raked ready for the victim, he asked the horrid mistress of the invisible world what she meant to do with this burning over. Miru promptly replied, “To cook you!” Ngaru reproached her thus: “Ah, Miru! My grandfather Moko did not prepare an over for your daughters; but gave them food to eat, cocoa-nut water to drink, and sent them away in peace! You cook and devour your visitors!”
At these words the heavens became intensely black. Ngaru walked to the edge of the flaming oven, and placed one foot on the red-hot stones. At this critical moment the clouds, which had been gathering ever since he had entered Avaiki, burst suddenly. A fearful deluge of waters extinguished the blazing oven, and swept away Miru herself, her younger fairy daughters, and all her servants and accomplices. Ngaru was saved by clutching hold of the stem of the nono, the beautiful Tapairu girls, who allured him to the domains of Miru, held each by one of his legs, and so escaped the fate of their mother and sisters. These fairies taught Ngaru the art of ball-throwing.
After a time the waters entirely abated. Ngaru, wearied of the society of these attractive but dangerous fairy women, succeeded in finding a dark, winding passage to a land called Taumareva, where fruits and flowers grow profusely, and the inhabitants of which excelled in flute-playing. Here he married a girl kept by her parents inside a house in order to whiten her skin. Time passed pleasantly in this new residence. But one day two pretty little birds, known as “Karakerake,” perched upon the ledge of a pile of rocks. Ngaru immediately recognized them as belonging to Moko, and asked them whether they came at his grandfather’s bidding. The birds nodded assent, whilst Ngaru wept for joy, and prayed thus:
Ye little birds, pray drop a cord:
Aye, the cord used for the imperious
Oraka, the all devouring. Drop,
drop it at once!
At these words two cords fell, one from the feet of each bird. Securing himself by means of this double rope, Ngaru gave the signal to the birds, and without a word of farewell to his late spouse and her musical countrymen, was borne aloft to this upper world, and was safely deposited in the presence of Moko, who had long been ill, pining for the presence of his brave Ngaru, so long a prisoner in the shades.
Ngaru had conquered the monsters of the deep; had conquered the aversion of the proud Tongatea; had been buried in the earth; had descended to the shades, where he had proved victor over the hitherto unconquered Miru and her satellites. One more trial was reserved for Ngaru, ere he should be permitted to live in peace. The last foe was a heavenly one.
One day the people of this world were astonished at the sight of a large basket (some say “a vast fish-hook”) let down from the sky. Two or three anxious to see the wonders of the upper world, hitherto unexplored, entered the basket and were speedily drawn up out of sight. Not many days after, this process was repeated; but it came to be noticed, after a time, that none ever came down again to report what they had seen. This looked decidedly suspicious. The fact was, a sky-demon named Amai-te-rangi, or Carry-up-to-heaven, had taken a fancy to feed on human flesh, and had invented the basket and ropes as a means of satisfying hunger. Hearing from his victims of the prowess of Ngaru, he resolved to entrap and devour him. Now the basket itself was a very attractive object, and on the day of Ngaru’s return from his visits to the invisible world it was let down close to the dwelling of Moko. Ngaru, regarding this as a challenge, determined to ascend and have a fight with its owner. The more wily Moko detained his heroic grandson until his faithful little lizard subjects should go up and find out what was going on in the sky. The word having been given by The-king-of-lizards, a number of his sharp-eyed attendants entered the basket, which was speedily pulled up by Amai-te-rangi. On discovering that he had only caught a number of miserable little reptiles, he was greatly chagrined. Meanwhile the nimble subjects of Moko overran the place. When next the basket was let down, they were permitted to go down in it. They reported to Moko what they had seen: the gigantic size of “Carry-up-to-heaven;” beautiful women engaged in ball throwing; a huge chisel and mallet in the hands of the sky demon; and piles of human bones.
Ngaru fearlessly got into the beautiful basket, and was at once drawn up by the delighted Amai-te-rnagi, who anticipated a good feast, as the intended victim was uncommonly heavy. Upon touching the magnificent paving of blue stone, Ngaru found the demon drawn out to his full size, chisel and mallet in hand ready to deal the fatal blow. At this moment the human hero gave it a sudden jerk, that precipitated himself and the basket down to earth again. The disappointed demon hastily drew up Ngaru again, resolving not to permit him to escape a second time. But the grandson of Moko was not to be outwitted; for as soon as the basket again touched the solid vault of heaven, he once more jerked it back to earth. Amai-te-rangi eight times pulled his ropes, until his strength was nearly exhausted; but at last, to his satisfaction, saw Ngaru coolly walk out of the basket and confront his giant foe, who again prepared to deal the fatal blow with that chisel from which no mortal had hitherto escaped.
Now Moko had foreseen all this, and to provide for the safety of Ngaru, each time the basket touched the ground had sent into it a number of lizards, which leaped out on the sky as soon as the basket touched the blue paving, unregarded by the demon, whose whole thoughts were concentrated on the destruction of this fearless human enemy. At the moment his huge arms were uplifted to effect the murder of Ngaru, all these faithful guardians rushed up the legs of Amai-te-rangi, covering his face, neck, arms, and body. Particularly clustering about the armpits, they tickled the giant to such a degree that it was impossible for him to strike with precision. Again and again the monster endeavoured to brush off these little fellows from his naked body, so that he might accomplish his purpose; but the lizard pertinaciously returned to their appointed task of distracting Amai-te-rangi’s thoughts and movements, until at length this cruel enemy of mankind, utterly unable to slay Ngaru, and tickled almost to madness, dropped chisel and mallet. Ngaru, seizing these weapons, succeeded in killing Amai-te-rangi, and then let himself down to earth again, accompanied by his four-footed protectors, and carrying with him the chisel and mallet of his slain foe. Ere leaving, he tried ball-throwing with Ina and Matonga, who kept eight balls going at a time, and succeeded in beating them too.
Source:
Myths and Songs From the South Pacific, William Wyatt Gill, 1876
Kotharian Lightning 