(A FIJIAN LEGEND FOR YOUNG AND OLD CHILDREN) A Goddess in the Garb of Mortality—A Garden of Eden—Temptation—Kasawayo and Kora the Mortal—The Battle—Flight to Shadowland.
AGES ago a goddess of shadowland sickened of the sacred halls of the passionless gods. One day a great desire to be a mortal entered her heart, for she had once been a mortal herself and had had the desires of mortality, but knew it not. She was sitting by her cavern door, gazing across the starlit singing seas of paradise, when she made up her mind to desert shadowland.
“My heart is lonely enough; I long for warm lips that will kiss my face and eyes and give unto my soul those impassioned tendernesses that I so strangely remember in my dreams,” she cried, as she listened to the moaning of the waves and sighing forest trees of shadowland. “Why, why should I sit here weeping, listening, for thousands of moons, and none to touch my lips?” So thought the goddess as she put her fingers up and softly twirled the skeins of tangled sunset that adorned her hair. Having made up her mind, she at once went off and consulted the oracles (who were the great dead chiefs of Fiji). Listening eagerly to them, she at once followed their advice, and so started to travel across the wonderful mountains of Mbula. It was in the great mountains of Mbula where she could kneel at the altar and feet of the great god Ndengi, who was the Supreme-Giver 176of shadowland. After travelling a long way, Kasawayo (for that was the goddess’s name) came to the entrance of a cavern in the mountain’s side. As she approached the entrance, a beautiful light streamed out upon her. She gazed round, and heard the tramp of the vassal gods who were passing across the outer plains. They were going off, she knew, to hang the stars and moons and fleecy clouds up in the sky.
On seeing the mighty heathen gods travelling along by the light of their own eyes—eyes that stared like beautiful moons across the plains—Kasawayo knew she had arrived at the wonderful halls wherein dwelt Ndengi. Prostrating herself before the sentinel gods (for such they were who stood for ever watching by the great hollow of the doorway where she stood), she said: “I am Kasawayo, the goddess of half-remembered dreams, and it is my wish to enter the mighty halls of Mbula.”
The taller sentinel, who stood as high as a mountain, and who was busy tattooing the sky with stars, dropped his mighty calabash that was full of the dead hopes of human dreams, and said:
“Vanaka! O Le Su Kasawayo.”
In another moment Kasawayo had entered the doorway of the underworld, and was travelling along a track that had mighty mountains on each side. Looking upward she saw the spirits of the dead flying ahead of her, on the way to the wrathful Ndengi to be judged for their sins on the great living world.
“Vanaka!” she cried, waving her hand as the sorrowing souls passed right overhead. Death had reshaped them into beautiful bird-like things that had the faces of handsome youths. Kasawayo sighed as their glimmering wings flitted beneath the stars that shone over the mountain peaks; then they passed from her sight.
Kasawayo felt very sad and weary when she at last 177arrived before the vast pae-pae (throne) whereon sat the great god Ndengi. Across the roof of the underworld shone a myriad stars, and many moons sent wistful gleams across the mysterious forest regions of Spiritland.
Kasawayo trembled as she approached the vast pae-pae. A stream of green light fell slantwise through the branches of the giant palms that leaned over the god’s throne, sending wistful gleams down on the small form of the ambitious goddess. As the moonbeams trickled over her tresses that fell in a shining cataract down to her bare feet, she said:
“O great Ndengi, I have travelled far, for I wish to go down the skies and live on the isles of Fiji.”
Then Ndengi spoke, and his voice sounded like the far-off muttering of thunder in the mountains:
“I will let you go down over the waters of the sunsets, but ere you go I must turn you into a bird.”
At hearing that she would be turned into a bird that could so easily fly to the homes of mortal men, Kasawayo was delighted, and at once fell on her knees before Ndengi and sang a prayer in this wise:
“Oh, great Ndengi, God of Mbau,
My heart murmurs, full of love for you;
And the flowers and foaming rivers of shadowland
Are singing of the splendours of Ndengi.
The beauty of your wandering thoughts, the stars,
Sing passionless in the hollow of your hand,
Telling of your love for mighty things.”
Then she gazed up softly in the great god’s eyes, and whispered in a frightened way:
“I am a woman of half-remembered dreams,
Where forests sigh above the stealing streams,
And so I long to gaze in warm, wild eyes
Of men where Passion in her sorrow sighs.”
178Like a great wind was the sigh of Ndengi as Kasawayo ceased her sweet song. Then he said: “Arise!” and the goddess rose to her feet and stumbled on her thin legs, for she had been turned into a great bird! Her eyes were still beautiful and sparkled like unto the stars. Her wings were tipped with gold and striped with deep crimson and green, her breast was as snowy white as the orange blossom. Ndengi leaned against the mountains that were pillars of his throne, and, gazing on the transformed Kasawayo, said:
“I have disguised you so that no mortal will dare to love you.”
Kasawayo, on hearing this, smiled in her heart as she stared in Ndengi’s great mirror, a lagoon that imaged him as he sat on his throne. She saw that she had a woman’s eyes, and she knew what a woman’s eyes could do. Then, down the mountain’s paths and across the valleys of Mbau, the goddesses came running, for they had heard the echoes, and would wish Kasawayo good-bye ere she left shadowland.
“Vanaka! Le tao. O Kasawayo, you look beautiful, though you are a bird.”
Kasawayo lifted her eyes in her vanity and saw her own image reflected in Ndengi’s great eyes! “He warns me!” she muttered.
Then Kasawayo spread her new wings, and without a moment’s hesitation flew off into the starlit, silent night. Often her wings brushed against the soft light of the stars as she curved in her downward flight ere she came to the Fijian Isles, which she had seen in dreams and heard about from sinful spirits. She was well pleased as she fluttered over the breadfruit trees that grow in such abundance near Nadronga on the isle of Viti Levu. Sitting on the topmost bough of a tall coco-palm, she gazed down, and stared curiously on a flock of Fijian 179children who were romping in the drala-weed and deep fern of the forest floor. The sight of those children awakened strange old memories in her mind. Looking down in a sidelong look, as a bird must look, she said:
“Children of the forest, I am the goddess Kasawayo, and have come from shadowland to watch over you all!”
The children gazed in surprise as they looked up and saw a wonderful bird with a human face speaking to them from the topmost bough of the coco-nut palm. Then they all shouted back to the goddess:
“Are you Kasawayo, she of whom the great chiefs of our village so often talk and pray about?”
Then a fierce-looking boy looked up and said:
“You’ve caused a lot of sorrow in our hut, you have. Why didn’t you hear my mother’s prayers?”
But Kasawayo only flapped her wings, and gazed down on the children in sorrow. At this moment a serpent crawled out of the thick bamboo bush hard by the swampy lagoon. It had a long, crimson-hued neck that soared upwards and fell as it crawled, like the neck of a lika-bird (swan). On seeing the children it at once stood erect on its twisted tail, and hissed forth:
“Children, what are you talking to up in that tree?”
“We are talking to a bird, O god of the shore caves,” said the children, as they all pointed up into the coco-palm.
The serpent, who was a disguised god, looked curiously up into the coco-palm, and then said in a soft, insinuating way:
“Why, Kasawayo!—it’s you!” Then it added: “Why, I never thought to see you down here after all these thousands of years!”
“Yes, it’s I, right enough; Ndengi let me come down and see you all for a while.”
“Did he?” responded the serpent.
180Kasawayo felt a bit worried as she looked sideways down at the serpent. Then, feeling it would be best to be quite pleasant, she said as she gave a coquettish glance:
“I am pleased to see you again, but what I really wish to see is a handsome Fijian youth who will love me and return with me to the halls of Mbau.”
“You do, do you?” thought the serpent-god as it looked up at Kasawayo, a crafty, envious gleam in its big green eyes.
Kasawayo, who now had a woman’s instincts, trembled slightly as she noticed that look. Then she said:
“I know you’ll help me to find a handsome, passionate mortal, won’t you?”
The serpent-god swelled to double his size, and, looking up at Kasawayo, thought to himself:
“Why, I like the look of you myself, and I can be a passionate lover if I like.”
Being a wary serpent-god, he took care that Kasawayo should have no inkling of his thoughts. Then he unrolled his spotted body so that he might reveal his vivid colours to the best advantage. Having shown his beauty, he said:
“Kasawayo, I will do my best to find you a handsome lover.”
“Vanaka! O serpent-god,” quoth Kasawayo, as she spread her wings that the serpent might see that she was as well-coloured as he was. In another moment she had bravely fluttered down to the forest floor.
“Alow! Woi!” cried the wondering children, as Kasawayo stood beside the hot-eyed serpent.
“Run away, children!” said the artful serpent-god.
In a moment the children had all vanished, were running home to the village to tell their parents all they had seen.
181Turning to Kasawayo, the serpent-god said in his gentlest voice:
“Come on!”
And so Kasawayo with a trembling heart went away through the forest, walking by the side of the crawling serpent-god whose heart was bitter indeed to think he was not disguised by the fates as a handsome youth instead of an ugly serpent-thing.
“Sing to me,” said the god, as he glided by Kasawayo’s side.
Kasawayo at once lifted her half-bird, half-human face, and sang.
And, while the serpent-god was flattering Kasawayo and giving artful hints, a handsome native youth suddenly emerged from the forest shadows and stood before them.
“A youth—the very one!” exclaimed the goddess.
On hearing Kasawayo’s unguarded exclamation, the god got into a great rage and cursed himself for asking the goddess to sing. For it was the sweet voice of the goddess that had attracted the handsome youth as he lay dreaming under the coco-palms.
Now this youth’s name was Kora, and Kora was a passionate youth. The serpent-god noticed the look of admiration that leapt into the youth’s eyes as he stood before them.
“I must get rid of him,” thought the god, as he looked up into Kora’s face and said in a very deceitful voice:
“Kora, how very pleased I really am to see you at this moment. What do you think of this beautiful bird that is here by my side?”
Saying this, the serpent, without waiting to hear Kora’s opinion, took hold of the bird’s wing and introduced her to Kora.
182As Kasawayo’s eyes sparkled with delight and the handsome youth bowed and kissed her tenderly on the face, the jealous serpent said quickly:
“See, Kora, ’tis but a bird, and for all its beauty is only fit for flying.”
But, nevertheless, the kiss that Kora gave the bird was so unduly prolonged, and was so passionate, that the disguised goddess hung her head and blushed up to the soft feathers that adorned her brow! The jealous serpent perceiving this, and seeing that Kora was already in love with Kasawayo, looked up and said:
“Go away, Kora; Kasawayo is my guest. To-night she goes back again to shadowland, so I have little time with her.”
“Ho! ho!” said Kora; “so you want her all for yourself, do you?”
Saying this, Kora stared defiantly at the serpent.
Without any more ado, the serpent seized hold of the frightened Kasawayo and started off into the deeper shadows of the forest.
In a moment Kora sprang forward, saying:
“You shall not take her away from me; well enough I can see that she loves me, and not you!”
Then Kora lifted his big war-club and made a desperate attack on the serpent. In a moment the serpent had lifted its hideous head and chanted forth, “Wathi, wathi, noko-buli!” As the sad Kora heard those words, he realized that the serpent was a heathen god. He knew well enough that he had no power to thwart the serpent’s wishes and so save Kasawayo.
As the serpent once more seized hold of the goddess, she looked over her shoulder and gazed into the eyes of Kora as much as to say, “O beautiful Kora, I love you. Yet must I go away into the forest with this terrible serpent-god.”
183Kora hung his head for shame to think that a serpent had more power than he had.
When the god came to his dwelling-cave, which was by the sea, he pulled Kasawayo hurriedly into the dark beyond the big doorway. This great cave was lit up by a dim light that was emitted from the eyes of the serpent. Dragging Kasawayo over to the far corner he placed the trembling goddess on a large lump of red coral that was carved into a chair. As she sat there, couched in the moonlight that crept through the doorway, she trembled violently, and gazed despairingly on the serpent. It was then that the serpent-god crawled to the far end of the big cavern, and, raising his head till it touched the crystals of the sparkling roof, said, “Wathi, wathi!” and lo, the serpent was no longer a serpent, but stood there before Kasawayo—a handsome god!
Kasawayo said:
“Though you are now turned into a handsome god, still I do not like you. You do not look as beautiful as the Fijian youth, Kora.”
On hearing this, the god got into a terrible rage. Then, quickly cooling down, he said:
“If you will only love me, I will let you walk through the forest by night in your own shape, for, though you are beautiful, you are not as lovely as you were when you had a woman’s form in Mbau. Now will you love me?”
For a moment Kasawayo sat couched in the moonshine, thinking over what the god Buli-buli had said. Then she looked up into his glistening serpent-like eyes, and said:
“I am in your power, so I will do my best to please and love you.”
Immediately the god heard Kasawayo say this, he 184said in a terrible voice that echoed through the hollow cavern:
“Wathi! wathi!”
Before the echoes had faded away Kasawayo stood shining in the moonshine. She was once more transformed back into a beautiful goddess.
Being a heathen serpent-god, and having none of the passions of the mortals, Buli-buli simply gazed upon Kasawayo, and said:
“Now that I have made you a goddess again, you must sit here in this cavern and sing to me all through the day and all through the night.”
And so for many days and nights Kasawayo sang and sang till her throat was tired. At length her heart began to long for the voice of Kora, and her eyes for one sight of his beauty.
One evening, as the sun was setting, she said to the god Buli-buli, who was at that moment dozing by the cavern’s door:
“Oh, I am so tired of singing away in this cave; though I love you, Buli-buli, still I feel that I would like to go out into the forest by night alone.”
For a moment the god looked at Kasawayo, growled, and then said:
“If you go out into the forest alone, I shall be turned into a serpent again till you come back; and, were you to be unfaithful to me by allowing the lips of a mortal to touch your own, I should be doomed to remain ever in the shape of a serpent.”
Saying this, the god looked fiercely at Kasawayo, as though he would read her soul.
Kasawayo, being a true Fijian goddess-woman, put her most innocent look into her bright eyes.
Then the god continued:
“Now, will you promise me that, if I let you go out 185into the forest alone, you will be faithful and return again?”
“Oh yes, I promise faithfully that I will be true to you and return to the cave again.” Saying this, Kasawayo’s heart beat violently with joy at the thought that she might meet the handsome Kora once more.
Buli-buli looked up into her face for a long while, then said:
“The sun has dipped his head into the moani aili (ocean); the stars are marching across the plains of shadowland; go, Kasawayo, into the forest alone!”
Kasawayo jumped to her feet, delight shining in her dark eyes. As she passed out of the cavern, she looked over her shoulder to bid farewell to the god, but she only saw a huge serpent crawling on its spotted belly across the floor of the cave.
Directly she arrived outside the cavern she ran away at full speed into the moonlit forest. She was indeed beautiful to look upon. Her hair hung in thick, curling tresses down to her smooth brown back, and often got entangled in her soft feet as she ran. A girdle of sweet-scented flowers swathed her loins. As she ran along, the forest winds put out their spirit fingers, lifted her masses of hair tenderly, and looked at her beautiful form; and the moo-moo flowers scented her body as she brushed past. Coming to the hollows, where grew the taro and the fruits of the mortals, she turned aside and went inland. For she heard the laughter of the little mortal children in the villages and the sounds of drums beating. Her heart fluttered as she heard those mortal noises, and knew that the forest high chiefs were worshipping their Meke idols beneath the big crimson blossoms of the ndrala-trees.
“Tani! Vanaka! O Le saka!” were the words that came to her ears like echoes of some far-away memory.
186A great longing came to her soul. She felt that she would love to go into the village that was just by and look upon the faces of the mortals. But she stifled the feeling, for had she not promised the god Buli-buli to keep away from them?
She had not gone far down the little track that led away from the native village, when she came to a moonlit space that was just by a forest lagoon. She knew not why it was, but her heart beat rapidly as she crept nearer and nearer. And no wonder, for there, sitting on a mossy stump of a dead breadfruit tree, with head bowed with grief, was Kora.
Lifting the big palm-leaves that brushed against her face, Kasawayo gazed on the weeping youth with loving eyes. Then in her sweetest accents she commenced to sing this song:
“Oh, love of my life, like unto the stars
And the winds and the waving trees,
And the singing pines by the coral bars,
Loud with the voices of roaming seas,
You are to me, you are to me!”
Kora slowly raised his head. For a moment he gazed like one who still thought that he dreamed. The O Le maun oa (nightingale) ceased to sing in the backa trees just overhead, so delicious was the warm-throated melody that Kasawayo sang. Then Kora started up to his feet. He realized that some beautiful goddess was singing to him. He knew well that no one but his lost Kasawayo would have so beautiful a voice.
Still the goddess sang on. And as she sang she thought of the serpent-god who had, for her sake, been transformed into a serpent so that she might go into the forest alone.
She longed to rush forth from the bamboos and reveal 187herself to Kora. But how could she do so when she had promised the serpent-god to be faithful to him? So she still remained hidden, and sang on.
Kora listened to her voice with delight. Then he cried out:
“Kasawayo! I know ’tis you who sing; come forth and let me see you.”
On hearing the voice of the youth calling her, so strong was her love that she almost rushed forward. For a moment she controlled the awful impulse, and started to sing once more, and these were the words of her song:
“Oh, Kora, my beloved, your eyes are like the moo-moo flowers;
Your form is as straight as a young coco-palm.
So my heart, my heart is on fire with thoughts of love;
Yet I dare not reveal the beauty of my face to you;
For, oh, listen to me! I have made a vow to the serpent-god;
And I must not reveal my beautiful face to............