THE MAN WHO LEFT HEAVEN.
In a certain village lived some men who longed for strings of shell money. So they took counsel together and agreed to go to a far village and there barter store of betel nuts for what their souls desired. They set forth therefore, and in time reached the land where shell money was to be found. Now the village they were in search of was in the hills, and was more than a day's journey from the beach. So one of their number tarried with the canoe, while the others climbed the hill.
In a little while a child came down to the beach near where the canoe lay, to fill his coconut water bottle with salt water that his mother might salt their food in cooking it. To him spake the man, saying, "Knowest thou in whose house I may find shell money?"
"Yea, lord," answered the child. "Truly my father hath much shell money, and would fain have some of thy betel nuts."
Whereupon the man left the canoe and followed the child to his father's house, where he received much shell money, and where he bestowed many betel nuts. Then he coiled the strings of money in a water bottle, and went down to the canoe, where he awaited his companions.
They were not long in coming, and glad were their voices as they spake of the long strings of money they had received. And all set out for their home. But on the way they were disputing whose string was the longest, and desired to land that they might know whose was the best.
It was a desolate shore on which they landed. A pandanus grew near, and one by one the men hung their strings of money over its branches and watched as they hung near the ground. "Thine is red, brother," . . . "Thine is long," so said they. And now it was the turn of the man who had stayed behind to measure his. But he hung his not on the branch of the pandanus, but on the top; and it lay upon the ground, and many coils were yet in the water bottle. When the men saw this and that their friend's money so far surpassed theirs, some of them were jealous, and some were sad, some others were angry, and many coveted it greatly.
But on this were all of one mind. No longer should he travel with them. So they launched the canoe, and told the man with the long necklace that he might not go with them.
The man sought for a way of escape, but found none. Then he bethought him of the lime gourd he carried over his shoulder. In this he embarked and would have fain reached his own land, but sail or paddle he had none, and the winds carried him whither they listed. Kariwabu blew him to the west, and Lavarata to the east, and at last he landed at the foot of a mountain behind which rise the stars.
Night fell, and Magamaia rose above the sea. "Stay but a moment," cried the man, "and let me hold thee and together we will mount."
But Magamaia answered, "Tarry a little; our friend Deboroia will soon be here."
Then it was the turn of Deboroia. "Stay but a moment," cried the man again, "and let me hold thee, and together we will mount."
But Deboroia answered even as had Magamaia. "Tarry a little," quoth he, "for Maratomtom (the morning star) will soon be here."
The man's heart was hot within him for grief that no star would have pity on him in his sad plight, and he wept sore. But as he wept and lamented, Maratomtom rose and hearkened to his cry. The man held fast and Maratomtom and he rose together high into the heaven. The man let go his hold and lighted where much people were gathered together. The people of heaven marvelled greatly when the man showed himself unto them, and one damsel looking on him required that he should be her husband. So were they married, and for a time the man forgot the land which he had left.
In due time a son was born to them, and grew and waxed strong. Now it fell upon a day that the lad cut many spears and brought them unto his father that he might sharpen them for him. This he did and the lad, seeing many coconuts far below him upon the earth, speared them from his home in the heaven. And, as his spears returned not, the child cried unto his father that he should make ready more darts for him that he might continue in his play. But the father was loth to do so, and said, "Why should I make new spears? Where are the ones I made thee?"
Then he too looked down and saw upon the earth the tops of the palms of his own village. And his heart died at the sight, for he longed with an exceeding great longing to visit his land once more.
So he said to his wife, "Cook me some food that I may eat." And she did so, and he ate it. Then he took a long cord of pandanus and strung upon it the shell money which was not of the best. But the red and large and round he placed in a heap upon the ground, and commanded that it should be laid up. (For this reason is the shell money of earth poor and pale, but in heaven exceeding fair and beautiful.)
Now when the cord was fully threaded, the man made a loop at one end and sat thereon, and said to his son, "I am about to depart to my own country. Fasten this cord to a tree, and continue to let it down until night. And the slack cord which will be still in thy hands thou shalt bind round the tree once more until the day dawn. Then let down the cord again until it shall be loose, by which sign thou shalt know that I have reached mine own land."
Thus and thus did the lad, and all night the man hung between the heaven and the earth, swinging to and fro as the winds blew upon him. And at dawn the child did even as his father had bidden him, and let out the cord until the man lighted on one of his own coco palms, and the cord fell upon the earth and remained.
Now, as the man was thus seated on high, it came to pass that the daughter who had been born to him upon earth came to gaze on her father's coconuts. She knew she might but look, and that to taste was forbidden, for her mother mourned her father as one long dead, and a taboo had been laid on all the coco palms which had been his. But, as she gazed, she discerned a man seated among the leaves, and, looking steadfastly on him, she knew him to be her father, and straightway ran to her mother and told her the tidings. But her mother answered, "How can this be, my daughter? Thy father is dead, and I have mourned for him these many years. It is another man thou hast seen."
Nevertheless, at her daughter's word she went out and found even as she had said. Then was her heart glad, and she bade her husband come down and enter the house that she might make ready food for him to eat. She therefore brought food from the gardens and cooked it and set it before her husband, and he ate, and his hunger was stayed.
Being now refreshed, he minded him of the companions who had aforetime treated him evilly, and appeared unto them with many fair words and kindly greetings. He also bade them to a feast he was about to make. Much taro was boiled, and a pig was slain, and, all being made ready, the guests were gathered together in the potuma, which is the clubhouse. But the man himself did not enter, for he desired to take vengeance on his enemies. So he closed the doorways of the potuma and made them fast that no one might chance to escape, and then he set fire to each corner of the house. The flames rose high and thick smoke filled the potuma, as the feasters looked for a way of escape. But they looked in vain, and soon their cries were stilled, and their charred bodies clinging to the roof of the potuma were changed into flying foxes, which ever haunt high places, and whose cry is the cry of a soul in pain.