The superstitious still have half an idea that Mafuie is down below Samoa somewhere; and that the earth has a long handle there, like a walking-stick, which Mafuie gives a shake now and then. It was common for them to say, when they felt the shock of an earthquake, "Thanks to Ti'iti'i, that Mafuie has only one arm: if he had two, what a shake he would give!"

The natives of Savage Island, 300 miles to the south of Samoa, have a somewhat similar tale about the origin of fire. Instead of Talanga and Ti'iti'i, they give the names of Maui, the father, and Maui, the son. Instead of going through a rock, their entrance was down through a reed bush. And, instead of a stipulation for the fire, they say that the youth Maui, like another Prometheus, stole it, ran up the passage, and before his father could catch him, he had set the bush in flames in all directions. The father tried to put it out, but in vain; and they further add, that ever since the exploit of young Maui, they have had fire and cooked food in Savage Island.

2. The Samoans have their stories of a golden age of intelligence long long ago, when all things material had the power of speech. They not only spoke, but they had evil natures as well, and quarrelled with each other and fought, very much like the races of mankind. We have already referred to the early battles of cosmogony, and to the wars of the rocks and fires and earth and stones. It was the same with the flora and fauna. Or to give it in their own words: "The small stones fought with the grass, the stones were beaten and the grass conquered. The short grass fought with the strong weedy grass, the short grass was beaten and the strong grass conquered. The strong grass fought with the long grass of the bush, the strong grass was beaten and the bush grass conquered. The bush grass fought with the trees, the grass was beaten and the trees conquered. The trees fought with the creepers, the trees were beaten and the creepers conquered—and then began the wars of men." Pity but the wars of men had been as bloodless as those which preceded them!

The principle seems to be that whenever one thing prevails to excess above another thing, or is in any way superior, be it rock, stone, earth, grass, or tree, we are sure to find some tradition of its battle and victory. The old poetic Samoan forefathers who framed these fabulous fights added a deal of circumstance and minuteness to their tales, and all was seriously believed by some of their more prosaic posterity.

3. A story is told of a battle between two trees—a Fijian Banian tree and the Samoan tree called Tatangia (acacia laurifolia). A report reached Samoa that the trees of Fiji had fought with the Banian tree, and that it had beaten them all. On this the Tatangia and another tree went off from Samoa in two canoes to fight the Fijian champion. They reached Fiji, went on shore, and there stood the Banian tree. "Where is the tree," they inquired, "which has conquered all the trees?" "I am the tree," said the Banian. Then said the Tatangia, "I have come to fight with you." "Very good, let us fight" replied the Banian. They fought. A branch of the Banian tree fell, but Tatangia sprung aside and escaped. Another fell—ditto, ditto—the Tatangia. Then the trunk fell. Tatangia again darted aside and escaped unhurt. On this the Banian tree "buried its eyes in the earth," and owned itself conquered. As many of the towns and districts are spoken of figuratively by the names of trees noted for strength or beauty, the inference as to the real actors in these tree fights is obvious. The present generation, however, will hardly admit that they may describe the wars of men.

The following is a specimen story of a piscatorial fight:—A shark which had its habitat in a cave on the south side of Savaii mustered all the fish in the neighbourhood to go and fight with the great red fish of Manu'a. The Manu'a fish with their red leader met them in the ocean between Tutuila and Manu'a. They fought. The Savaii fish were beaten, and fled pursued by their conquerors. Most of them took refuge under stones and rocks and escaped, but their leader, the shark, fled to his own cave. He was pursued, however, and killed by the red fish of Manu'a. I tell them that the shark, red fish, etc., must have been mere figurative names for chiefs and districts, and the finny troops under them were doubtless living men, but in all these stories the Samoans are rigid literalists, and believe in the very words of the tradition. And yet at the present day they have towns and districts bearing figurative names, distinct from the real names, such as the sword fish, the stinging ray, the dog, the wild boar, the Tongan cock, the frigate bird, etc. And if such creatures had been known of old in Samoa, they would no doubt have had their bear, their lion, and their eagle, and stories too of their battles.

4. We have also accounts of battles fought by the birds on the one side and the fish on the other. The fish and the birds were in the habit of paying friendly visits to each other. The inanga, or small fry of a fresh-water fish, were offended at not being hospitably received on shore by the birds; on the other hand, the birds despised the inanga for being so small. They fought, and the fishes conquered, and it ended in the fish becoming birds and the birds fishes; and hence they say the back-bone of the inanga projects so much. But after that there was another battle, in which the fish were beaten and the birds conquered; and ever since the birds have had their wings, and their supremacy, and the right of going to the sea, or the river, as they please, to pick up the fish which come within their reach.

A battle also between the owl and the serpent is noteworthy. It runs as follows:—There were ten brothers, whose names were Sefulu, Iva, Valu, Fitu, Ono, Lima, Fa, Tolu, Lua, and Tasi, and so named from the ten numerals, which in those days began with Sefulu as 1, and ended with Tasi as 10. These ten brothers went to the forest to cut wood for a large canoe. They came upon an owl and a serpent fighting. Sefulu was walking first, and to him the owl called out; "Sefulu, you come and kill my enemy here, the serpent, and if you do, you shall have a right to the Ifilele and Maota timber trees" [Afzelia bijuga, and Dysoxylon Sp.]

"No, let us pass on," said Sefulu, "there are plenty of other trees which will answer our purpose." Then the owl turned to Iva and all the others on to Lua, and implored help in killing the serpent, but each in turn answered as did Sefulu. Tasi, however, replied to the entreaty of the owl, and said, "Yes, I will," and grasping his felling axe, struck out at the serpent and killed it. "Well done, Tasi!" said the owl, "and to keep in remembrance for all time to come your bravery, and respect for me, you shall stand foremost in everything that is numbered. Sefulu who has been first shall now be last, and you who have been last shall always be first." And so it has continued to the present day—the first, Tasi, and the tenth, Sefulu.

5. The appearance or forms of things, as in this latter instance perhaps, have also suggested some other fabulous stories. They say that the rat had wings formerly, and that the large bat or flying fox at that time had no wings. One day the bat said to the rat: "Let me try on your wings for a little, that I may see how I like flying." The rat lent the bat his wings, off flew the bat with the wings, and never came back to return them. And hence the proverb applied to a person who borrows and does not return: "Like the bat with the rat."