Narrative of Shipwreck and Salvage. “The canoe sails fast; the wind rises; big waves come; the wind booms, du-du-du-du …. The sails flutter; the *lamina* (outrigger) rises high! All the *usagelu* crouch on the *lamina*. I speak magic to calm the wind. The big spell of the Sim-sim. They know all about *yavata* (North-Westerley Monsoon wind). They live in the eye of the *yavata*. The wind abates not, not a little bit. It booms, it gains strength, it booms loud du-du-du-du-du. All the *usagelu* are afraid. The *mulukwausi* scream, u-ú, u-ú, u-ú, u; their voices are heard in the wind. With the wind they scream and come flying. The *veva* (sheet rope) is torn from the hands of the *tokabinaveva*. The sail flutters freely in the wind; it is torn away. It flies far into the sea; it falls on the waters. The waves break over the canoe. I stand up. I take the *binabina* stones; I recite the *kayga’u* over them, the *giyotanawa*, the spell of the Underneath. The short spell, the very strong spell. I throw the stones into the deep. They weigh down the sharks, the *vineylida*; they close the Gaping Depth. The fish cannot see us. I stand up, I take my lime pot; I break it. The lime I throw into the wind. It wraps us up in mist. Such a mist that no one can see us. The *mulukwausi* lose sight of us. We hear them shout near by. They shout u-û, u-û, u-û, u. The sharks, the *bonubonu*, the *soka* do not see us; the water is turbid. The canoe is swamped, the water is in it. It drifts heavily, the waves break over us. We break the *vatotuwa*, (the sticks joining the float to the platform). The *lamina* (outrigger float) is severed; we jump from the *waga*; we catch hold of the *lamina*. On the *lamina* we drift. I utter the great *Kaytaria* spell; the big fish *iraviyaka* comes. It lifts us. It takes the *lamina* on its back, and carries us. We drift, we drift, we drift.” “We approach a shore; the *iraviyaka* brings us there, the *iraviyaka* puts us on the shallows. I take a stout pole, I lift it off; I speak a spell. The *iraviyaka* turns back to the deep sea.” “We are all on the *dayaga* (fringing reef). We stand inwater. The water is cold, we all shiver with cold. We do not go ashore. We are afraid of the *mulukwausi*. They follow us ashore. They wait for us ashore. I take a *dakuna* (piece of coral stone), I say a spell over it. I throw the stone on the beach; it makes a big thud; good; the *mulukwausi* are not there. We go ashore. Another time, I throw a stone, we hear nothing: *mulukwausi* are on the beach; they catch it; we hear nothing. We remain on the *dayaga*. I take some *leyya* (ginger). I spit it at the beach. I throw another stone. The *mulukwausi* do not see it. It falls down; we hear it. We go ashore; we sit on the sand in a row. We sit in one row, one man near another, as on the *lamina* (in the same order as they drifted on the *lamina*). I make a charm over the comb; all the *usagelu* comb their hair; they tease their hair a long time. They are very cold; we do not make the fire. First, I put order on the beach; I take the piece of *leyya*, I spit it over the beach. One time, when the *leyya* is finished, I take some *kasita* leaves (the beach is always full of these). I put them on the shore, I put a stone on them, uttering a spell—afterwards, we make fire. All sit round and warm themselves at the fire.” “At day time, we don’t go to the village; the *mulukwausi* would follow us. After dark, we go. Like on the *lamina*, we march in the same order, one after the other. I go last; I chant a spell over a *libu* plant. I efface our traces. I put the *libu* on our track; I put the weeds together. I make the path confused. I say a charm to the spider, that he might make a cobweb. I say a charm to the bush-hen, that she might turn up the soil.” “We go to the village. We enter the village, we pass the main place. No one sees us; we are in mist, we are invisible. We enter the house of my *veyola* (maternal kinsman), he medicates some *leyya*; he spits (magically) on all of us. The *mulukwausi* smell us; they smell the salt water on our skins. They come to the house, the house trembles. A big wind shakes the house, we hear big thuds against the house. The owner of the house medicates the *leyya* and spits over us; they cannot see us. A big fire is made in the house; plenty of smoke fills the house. The *leyya* and the smoke blind their eyes. Five days we sit in smoke, our skin smells of smoke; our hair smells of smoke; the *mulukwausi* cannot smell us. Then I medicate some water and coco-nut, the *usagelu* wash and annoint themselves. They leave the house, they sit on the *kaukweda* (spot before the house). The owner of the house chases them away. ‘Go, go to your wife;’ we all go, we return to our houses.”
I have given here a reconstruction of a