So the Tovutovu chiefs took the young men up the river to the great vesi-tree, and lit a fire about it to burn up the sap, and cut it down with their adzes. Then they lopped off the branches, and cut a hole in the butt of the tree, and took vines as thick as a man’s thigh and passed them through the hole, and dragged the tree inch by inch on rollers till they got it into the river. And they made rafts of bamboo, and bound them to the sides of the tree to make it lighter. And when night came on they camped on the river-bank, where they could hear the water swishing past the tree. And they sent a messenger to Rara, saying, “The tree is fallen!” This was for a sign to them to make ready for the feast, according to custom. And the messenger returned and said, “Drag the post to Vatuloaloa, where the river widens, and no farther; there we will make a feast, and bring the post to Rara on the morrow.”
So they toiled all the next day, dragging the post down the river, for there had been no rain, and the water was very shallow. And when they drew near Vatuloaloa they put on leaf girdles and blue conch-shells and chanted—
“E-mbia wanga é-mbi,
E-dua thombo, ié!”
and each time they cried ié! they hauled on the vine-rope with all their strength, and the great tree moved on a step. And now they had come to a place where the river was hemmed in with high cliffs, and the bed was obstructed by great boulders that had fallen from above. They could see the black rocks of Vatuloaloa below them. And there was a shout from the cliffs above, and when they looked up they saw the men of Rara standing on the edge, but instead of food-baskets they had spears and war-fans in their hands, and their faces were painted. And there came a shout from the cliff toward Tovutovu, and they looked and saw the men of Valekau standing prepared for battle. And one said, “What does Valekau here prepared for battle? Surely this is treachery!” So they threw down the Vine-rope and shouted, “How is it?” And the men of Valekau answered, “You shall be repaid to-day!” And they threw great stones down on them as they stood waist-deep in the angry water, and the men of Tovutovu fled, some up-stream and some down, splashing the water high above them; but when they reached the low bank there were armed men guarding them. Thus were they like a wild boar at bay encircled by barking dogs. And in their madness they took stones from the river-bed, and ran at the men of Valekau; but many were slain, and those who escaped lay all day in the thick rushes, and saw a great smoke rising from the plain where Tovutovu was, and knew that the doom of their wives and children was accomplished. And when night was come they crept from their hiding-places, and fled into the forest until the remnant of them was gathered together there. Thus was Tovutovu wiped out, and Rara and Valekau divided the spoil.
And the remnant of them went up the river to Uthadamu, and dwelt there many months. But their hearts yearned after their own land. So when the yams were ripe they sent an embassy to Rara saying, “We are few in number and in pitiable plight. We pray you, let us return again to our own earth and the foundations of our ancestors, that we may breathe again.” And the messenger returned, and said, “They accepted the whales’ teeth and said, ‘It is well. Return.’” So they went back, and built houses on their old foundations, and sent to Rara saying, “Appoint a day when we shall bring you offerings of atonement.”
And the elders of Rara spoke to the chiefs of Valekau, “Are we not weary of war? Our young men thirst only for battle, and neglect the food-plantations, so there is scarcity. It was not so when we were young. Now therefore let us lay war aside, and make peace.”
So they appointed a day when they should all meet together and take counsel. And on the appointed day the men of Tovutovu brought whales’ teeth and rolls of bark-cloth, and presented them to the chiefs of Rara and Valekau as an offering of atonement. And Dongai said, “We are met to-day to make peace, for we are all weary of war. Many brave warriors are dead, and the land is empty. As for us of Rara, the war did not come from us. We only repaid that which was done to us. To what end has it been, this fighting between brothers?”
Then Bonawai of Valekau spoke. “It is true, O chiefs of Rara, that the war has been an evil one, for all our fortresses have been burned, and the land is empty. But neither did the war begin with us. True it is that the tree grows from the root, but there would be no root unless a seed had first been sown. Chiefly do I blame you, chiefs of Rara, for you were the cause of these wars. Have you forgotten that stick with which fish are taken—a magic contrivance of the foreigners—by which a man could stand and take fish until his arms fell to his sides from weariness? This we sent to beg of you, and you churlishly refused.”
The men of Rara bowed their heads, and picked at the ground. Then Dongai spoke: “O chiefs of Valekau, it is true that ye sent to beg this stick, but we hungered for fish, and—how could we give it, not having yet seen its magic?—and—and——”