Papuan Fairy Tales/Toroa, the Song of the Dead

by Annie Ker

TOROA, THE SONG OF THE DEAD.

In the old days there was a man who married a woman, and she was a witch, but he knew it not. At night he lay across the doorway of their house,

TOROA, THE SONG OF THE DEAD.

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and his wife feared to go out by the door, for that she must needs draw near to her husband. Yet every night, being a witch, she desired to go forth to cause the death of men by her witchcraft. Therefore she climbed the wall, and went out through a hole in the roof.

Now each night, as she climbed thus, her husband groaned in his sleep, and when in the morning he spake of it to his wife, she told him that he had been bewitched by his sisters. But when the sisters heard that they had been thus accused, they were very wroth. It is true that they were witches, but they had not wished harm to befall their brother, and they sought how they might cause him to know that his wife was a witch. "If we say so to our brother," they said, "he will not believe us. We must wait till he can see for himself."

It came to pass that on a certain day the man's wife and many other witches desired to dance. Therefore they caused rain to fall in a circle where they stood, in such a manner that they were in the middle and the rain was around them, and the drops falling fast were as a drum which is beaten by the hand. And as they danced thus they sang "Toroa," which is the Song of the Dead.

Now, while they were thus dancing and singing, the man's two sisters sought their brother that they might show him his wife. And after they had sought for a long time, they found him mounted upon a notched stick, which leant against the stalk of a great plantain, and he was binding leaves about the fruit that it might ripen and that no birds might eat of it.

Then said they to him, "Thy wife hath accused us of bewitching thee. Look now where the rain is falling, and thou shalt see what thy wife herself is." Then they stood beside the plantain to guard their brother against the witches if they should see that he was watching, and the man above listened while they sang. And these are the words of the song, which is called "Toroa":

Rerani gado
Gado ai gado;
Tubiri gado
Gado ai gado.
Koukou kana
Bulame, bulame;
Koukou kana
Wagurare, wagurare.

When they had made an end of singing, the rain ceased, and the witches went away. But the man in the plantain was afraid to come down from it until he knew they would not return. Then he too went away to his home, and thought on what he had seen and heard. And ever "Toroa" rang in his ears, and he longed to sing it, that he might know it yet better. But he feared lest his wife should hear him, and so know that he had seen her as she danced with the witches.

Therefore on the morrow he said to his wife, "Go to-day to the garden and work. I shall stay at home and nurse our child. And when thou comest back in the evening call before entering the village, that I may know thou art returning."

Then the woman did as he bade her. And when she had gone the man took the child in his arms and sang "Toroa" till the child slept, and the song was nearly learnt. And it came to pass that as he sang he heard his wife's voice calling to him, for she was about to enter the village. Therefore he ceased to sing, and when she came in he was silent.

On the morrow he bade her go once more to the garden, and to call on returning, that he might know she was near. This she did, and again he ceased singing "Toroa" before she could hear him. But on the next day, when he said the same words, the woman wondered in her heart what thing this might be that she was ever to call before coming into the village. Therefore she said to herself, "What is this which my husband doeth secretly? I will not call out this time, but will come back quietly."

Then she went forth to weed, and the man took his child in his arms and began to sing. And he sang,—

Rerani gado
Gado ai gado;
Tubiri gado
Gado ai gado.
Koukou kana
Bulame, bulame;
Koukou kana
Wagurare, wagurare.

And when the child slept he laid it in the string bag, which was its bed, and sang on. And as he sang he beat with a hollow bamboo, which is tidoro, upon the ground, and drew it towards him, so that its

voice was that of the rain drops which had fallen when the witches danced. Now, as he thus sang and beat with the tidoro, he saw not that his wife stood in the doorway watching him. But after a time he looked up, and was much afraid to see her standing there. Yet she spake never a word, but laid down her bag of taro and went to the spring to bathe.

And it came to pass that that night the woman laid a spell upon her husband, and he began to be ill, and after not many days he died. And then doubtless as he travelled on the way to Ioloa, he sang "Toroa" once more, for it is the song which the dead sing as they journey to their own land.

And in the village of Wamira there is but one man who can sing it, and he is Taukerobo. And when he is old and about to die he will give it to his son, for Taukerobo in like manner had it of his father, who alone knew it in the old days.