the stone, which they closed behind them. After tying his hands behind his back they left him, and Koidábo thought of his friends and cried bitterly.

The people, unaware that Koidábo had been carried off, searched for him and called him in every direction, but not finding him they wailed till night came and then went to sleep.

In the middle of the night the eldest of the hiwai-abere nipped off with her finger-nails a pinch of flesh from Koidábo's chest and held it over the fire to find out whether he was fat enough to be eaten. Snifiing at the roasted flesh she said, "Oh, good smell, he fat." In the morning she said to the others, ,,More better we go cut him sago, by and by come back, kill him. He got plenty fat." They blew at the stone, which opened, and they went to make sago, closing the stone behind them.

"

Koidábo when left alone found a small hole in the stone. He spat through the hole, thereby attracting the attention of a small kangaroo which was passing by. Koidábo said to the kangaroo, More better you go sing out (summon) pig, cassowary, any kind thing, come open my door. Hiwai-abire been go cut him sago, more better you come quick." The kangaroo summoned the pig, another larger kangaroo, the iguana, and the cassowary to come and open the door. At first the kangaroo scratched at the door with all its might, but the stone did not Next the iguana came and dug at the door with its claws but could not open it. The pig came and rooted at the door with its snout, trying again and again to open it, and the door shook and yielded a little. Lastly the cassowary came and kicked at the door violently, and it flew open at once. The kangaroo unfastened the ropes with which Koidábo's hands were tied together. His arms were terribly stiff and sore, and he tried to stretch them out, first one and then the other, by catching hold of a branch of a tree and pulling them straight. The animals all went back to the bush, and Koidábo returned to his people who called out in surprise, „Oh, Koidabo, he come now!" They were in the act of launching a canoe to go and spear dugong, and Koidábo, who was afraid of the hiwai-abere, went with them. They built platforms on the reef, and Koidábo mounted one of them to await the arrival of the dugong.

When the five hiwai-abere returned from the bush, they found that Koidábo had disappeared: „Oh, Koidábo he no stop, he run away!" They threw their sago on the ground and ran after him, following his scent as far as the place on the beach where he had embarked. There they transformed themselves into five dugong and swam after the canoe.

The five dugong came up close to Koidábo's platform. He speared the first of them, thinking that it was a real dugong, and his people speared the four others. Koidábo, holding on to the harpoon-line, was towed far away by his dugong, and the other men too were carried off in the same manner. The dugong came to Bóigu and from there went on into the deep sea, never to return. Koidábo and his friends like the hiwai-abere were transformed into dugong. Ever since then there have been many dugong in the sea. (Gaméa, Mawáta).

47

HOW A HIWAI-ABERE MADE THE FIRST DUGONG AND CARRIED AWAY A MAN.

153. In days long past a certain man named Kíba lived at Búdji. He was a very fine and handsome fellow, and a htwai-abere (evil female being) who lived there took a fancy to him and wanted to carry him away to another place.

Once Kiba's wife went to catch fish and crabs carrying her little boy in a basket. While engaged in her work she hung up the basket with the baby in it in a tree close to the water. The boy were kept on crying and was heard by the hiwai-abere who came and passed into his body. After a while the rising tide reached the basket, and the water closed over it. The two legs of the boy were transformed into a dugong's tail, his head turned into that of a dugong, and he was no longer a boy but a dugong. The boy's voice was choked by the water, and this is why nowadays the snorting of a dugong resembles the sobbing of a child. Thus the first dugong was made. When the mother came back, she found her basket empty, and she wailed and thought, „Alligator been catch him boy, I no been hang him on top proper."

The dugong swam away, and after a while it came to the place where the boys and girls were swimming in the water. It lifted its head out of the water and snorted, and the children called out, „Kíba, you come! Dugong there he come!" Kíba came to the place and put a harpooning platform up there, and all the while the dugong was swimming to and fro in the neighbourhood. When Kiba mounted the platform, it came straight to him and was speared. But Kíba's head became entangled in the harpooning line, and the dugong towed him far away until they came to Bóigu. There the dugong lifted up its head, looked round and said, „No good I go here, I go other place." The animal swam to Daváne, dragging Kíba behind, but on seeing the place it said, „No good I leave him here." Then it went to Búru between Daváne and Mábuiag but did not like that place either as it was so near home. At Mábuiag the dugong got stranded, and Kíba who was still alive got up and sat on the animal's back. „Oh, where Búdji, my place?" he wailed,

When the Mábuiag women came to catch fish they saw him and said, "What thing water he been take him float?" Two girls who were sisters went nearer to him and said, „I think that man dugong been take him. What place that man he come? Oh, that good (goodlooking) man he stop." The elder sister said, "That man belong me." "No, more better my man," said the younger. Kíba who was sitting with his head bent down remained silent. The dugong which at first had been a boy lay there dead, and the hiwai-abére had left the body and passed into a hole in a rock.

The girls summoned the people to come, „Man here, he got dugong!" they cried. Kíba said in the language of the islanders, „You no kill me, more better you take me go along shore." One man after another said, "All right, you pána (friend) belong me. No good you kill my pána." And they brought him home and hauled the dugong on shore. There they cut up the animal and distributed the meat, but they did not know that it really was a boy who had been transformed into a dugong. Kíba was very well received, and the two girls who had seen him first were given him in marriage. He remained in Mábuiag and taught the people there to spear dugong. He had learnt the art at Búdji by himself without having been taught it by anybody. But the Búdji people do not any longer know how to harpoon dugong. (Námai, Mawáta).

A. This version begins with telling how the wife of Kíba, a great Bóigu man, was outraged by two young men when Kiba was out spearing dugong (cf. no. 55 C). Once when sailing from Bóigu to Búdji, Kíba saw a dugong which had been made in the same way as in the previous version. A certain bushwoman" while catching crabs had hung up her baby in a basket in a tree, and

carried away by a high tide, the baby turned into a dugong. Kíba speared the animal, and it towed the canoe on to the open sea. Kiba plunged into the water, making his people believe that he was trying to tie a rope round the dugong's tail in the usual way, but instead he said to the animal, „Suppose you man, you take me go along Daváne." And the dugong swam to the island towing the canoe along. I catch him again," said Kiba and jumped into the water, and there he asked the animal to take them to Mábuiag. In the same way Kiba caused the dugong to tow the canoe to Múralágo, thence to Múri, and lastly back to Bóigu (abbrev.). There the dugong ran on shore and died. The people cut it up and cooked the meat. Kíba loaded the canoe with the meat and sailed with his people towards Pábo. When they came near, Kíba speared a turtle which went straight to the bottom without coming up again. He dived down and said to the turtle, I go back, sing out (summon) my people." „Go on, you sing out all people," said the turtle, "good place, you me (we) stop along bottom." Kíba fetched his people down to the bottom of the sea where they were received by the turtles who said, ,Place there, all you fellow sit down, sleep." Kiba's people all abandoned their human forms and became turtles. 47 (Gibúma, Mawáta).

B. The wife of a certain Mawáta man named Dáivarnga was humbugged" by one of the villagers, and shortly afterwards the injured husband went to spear dugong. On mounting the platform the harpooners generally unwind the coil of the rope in order to see whether it is clear. Dáivarnga omitted to do so, for after learning of the infidelity of his wife he wanted to end his life in the water. Everybody speared a dugong except him, and the reason was that owing to a presentiment of his impending death, his spirit passed out of his body beforehand and stopped the dugong from coming to him. At length he saw a female dugong which was pregnant, and he speared it. His leg became entangled in the rope, and he was carried far away by the dugong. They stranded for a while on the Tábaiáni sandbank, but the rising tide brought the dugong afloat, and sitting on the animal's back Dáivarnga was carried to the Ngádji sandbank between Móa and Two Brothers, and thence to Émbren or Dánikawa. There they stranded and Dáivarnga hauled the dugong on shore and cut it up. He placed the meat in the sun and ate the surface parts when they became dry. After four days he was found by some Bóigu people who came in a canoe. They guessed how he had got there and contemplated to kill him.15 "Suppose he come from Mábuiag, Sáibai, Yam island, we kill him," said they, „suppose he come from Mawáta, Páráma, me no kill him; that's road belong canoe (from that side the people obtained their canoes)." Eventually he was saved and brought to Bóigu, but he did not want to return to Mawáta. He remained in Bóigu and married there. It was only after his wife had born him four children that he wanted the Mawáta people to know that he had escaped and was alive. Since his time the Mawáta and Bóigu people have been friends. (Gaméa, Mawáta).

THE ADVENTURE OF A LITTLE GIRL WITH A BAD WOMAN AND THE ATTEMPTS OF HER MOTHER TO PROTECT HER. 62

154. A Djíbu man named Dúe had two wives, Mugíma and Jesánga. Mugima was a bad-tempered woman and every day used to upbraid Jesánga, who at last made a small house for herself and went to live there with her little girl Wíawía.

An old woman" used to fish every day in the Bínatúri river, and this is how she did it. Her home was at Sáusáu, and from there she started her work. Fishing from the river-bank she proceeded downstream, and when she had finished in the evening she marked the place with a stick in the ground. Next day she began from the place marked, pulled out the stick, and continued

in the same way as before till the evening when she again planted the stick for a mark. She had no garden and only ate fish and sago.

Wíawia was a beautiful girl with light skin, and the old woman on seeing her thought to herself, „My word, by and by I go kaikai that girl." She went to Jesánga and said, „You give me that girl, by and by I bring him back, I take him along my camp." But she was deceiving Jesánga, for she wanted to eat the girl. Jesánga said, "No, I cannot give you." The old woman persisted, „No, more better you give me, by and by I bring him back," and they kept on arguing. The old woman said, "I keep him three, four day, I cut him sago, by and by I bring him back, give you sago same time." At last Jesánga yielded: „All right, you take him, you bring him back quick, no stop long time."

The old woman took the girl to her house, gave her fish and sago and told her to eat. "You kaikai altogether, you no leave him half." In the night she went out, carefully blocking the door and every small opening. She began making sago outside the house and was talking to herself, „Wíawía, by and by I go cook him, to-morrow morning." The girl woke up and heard what the old woman said. "My word," she thought to herself, „him he want cook me." She tried to open the door but it withstood all her attempts, and the only opening was a small hole above it. She found a piece of wood and holding it in her hand said to it, "Suppose that old woman come to-morrow morning and ask you, 'Wíawia, you stop?' you tell him, 'Yes, I stop.'" 37 When she had said so, she placed the piece of wood underneath the mat with which she used to cover herself when sleeping. Now the girl had a feather of a small bird called girinienie, this she put in her mouth and sucked it in, and at the same moment she became this bird. She widened out the small hole over the door, sqeezed herself through, and flew away. The old woman was there outside and the bird alighted near her, crying out, „Nie nie nie giri nie nie nie." The old woman said, „Giriníenie, by and by to-morrow I go cook him Wíawía," "That's me," the bird thought, you no can cook me to-morrow." The girl flew to her mother, took out the feather from her mouth and resumed her human form. She told Jesánga, „Oh, mother, close up he cook me, that old woman. He (she) been shut him house, cut him sago. By and by he come behind. You me (we) cook him kaikai quick." Jesánga brought food and lighted a fire, and they prepared a meal and ate.

There was a tree called zúala (in Dírimo, djivali), and while it was quite small, Jesánga had covered it with an empty coconut-shell. They sat down on the small tree, and Jesánga took off the shell, and spat out some medicine" on the tree, and it stretched high up in to the air, lifting up the two women. 19

The old woman shouted from outside the house, „Wíawía, you stop yet?" The piece of wood answered, "Yes, me stop, me no can run away," and it begged the woman, „Please, you open him door quick." The woman opened the door a little and thrust in a sharp digging stick with which she speared the piece of wood, thinking that it was the girl. She pulled out the stick and put the end of it to her lips so as to try how it tasted: „My word!" she exclaimed, „Oh, that no blood, that no man." Opening the door she found the wood and cried, "Oh, that piece of wood, he been sing out all same man! Oh, that girl he been run away, go along mother!" Jesánga and the girl, sitting in the tree, awaited with terror the arrival of the old woman. At first the woman sent a strong wind, and mother and daughter hearing the noise said, "Him

23

he come, him he send wind first time, him he come along that wind." The old woman came and called out to Jesánga, „You give me that girl, I no want cook him, that girl been tell you lie." You climb him up that tree, you come," Jesánga said. The old woman began to climb the tree, coming nearer and nearer, but just as she was about to reach the girl she slipped and fell. She was horribly crushed and died on the spot. The tree lowered itself, and the two women came down. They prepared a meal, and when they had eaten took up their things and went away to Dúe.

Jesánga said to Dúe, „My word, behind woman (Dúe's second wife) he too much talk. That's why I carry him girl go other place. Close up one old woman kaikai that girl. You take that girl." Dúe's second wife, Mugíma, said, "No, you two no come here, you clear out from here." "No," Jesánga said, "you two take girl, I go other place, that's all I want give girl." In the night Jesánga and Wiawía slept outside the house, while Dúe and Mugíma slept inside. In the morning Jesánga said to Wíawia, „You me go take kaikai along what place me been come yesterday." They went and brought home a quantity of yams, sweet potatoes, coconuts and sugar-cane, which they baked and ate. When they had ended their meal they went to Dúe, and Jesánga asked him, „True you no want take that girl?" Dúe said, "Me all right, I like take that girl, one thing, Mugíma too much talk, he no want take that girl." Jesánga said, „All right." She plucked a part of a red sugar-cane and a shoot of a tree called béndemu, and then went away, carrying Wíawía on her shoulders. She sang as she walked,

„Eh, úliambo náire oh, bádeamambo náire eh, íeta wiidjö íseta wóidjö. One old woman fall down from that tree, he altogether dead."

The girl said, "More better you put me along ground, I go walk myself." "No," the mother said, "I carry you." After a while they sat down to rest and prepared some food. When they had eaten, Jesánga dug a hole in the ground. „I say, mother," the girl asked her, "what for you dig him that hole?" "No, I dig him nothing," the mother answered. When the hole was completed, the mother asked the girl, „You finish kaikai?" "Yes I finish." Then the mother said, "All right; you me (we) go now." She placed the girl close to the hole, seized her sharp digging stick and speared the girl with it right through the chest, and killed her. Then Jesánga put her in the grave and covered her with earth. In a basket she carried the stones with which she used to heat food, these she put on the grave where she also planted the red sugar-cane and the bendemu-sprig. When she had finished her task she took the rest of her things and went away weeping bitterly. She kept on walking, until she came to Dumáre in Dúdi. There she remained, saying to herself, „All right, I stop here, that's my place."

One night while Dúe was dreaming, Wiawía's spirit came to him and said, "Oh, my father, he (her mother) been bury me there along road, he been stick me along dapae (digging stick). You come to-morrow morning, you come look burying ground." In the morning Dúe woke up. He wept and thought to himself, "I think him he true." At daybreak he took his bow and arrow and went to see the place where Wíawia had been buried. He dug up her body, took it in his arms („put it on top belong him"), and wept. When the sun rose he put it back in the grave and buried it. Dúe returned home and brought with him two taro-roots from his garden. He pretended to be ill and told Mugíma, „Oh, me sick, I can't go garden, you go one man (alone). Suppose to-morrow I better, you me go." Mugíma went alone to the garden.