Chapter Nineteen.
Tribal War
Tribal armour.
Ramanmada was preparing for retaliation from Erangue. He knew that once he became aware of who had taken his daughter he would attack his village. So the men of the tribe began to prepare for war.
He watched his son become more distant and withdrawn. He needed him to help lead their men. But no matter how many times he tried to talk to him, Ioopu, no longer recognized him.
At the same time Erangue’s men were preparing to confront Ramanmada’s tribe. There had been many meetings between the different tribes and alliances were made with the two confronting tribes.
The women of the village wove thick woven body armours, which would cover all of a man’s body. They wove helmets; some had shells woven into them to make them stronger. The armour would help stop the clubs and knives from penetrating deep into the body.
The men set about making spears; some with long serrated sides made with the bones of sharks. The clubs had either sharp lime stone tips or thick shark teeth. They made axes with clamshell blades and spears made from the strong tomano branches.
Erangue’s armour was more elaborate than the other men. The helmet was larger, it was woven so as the top of his head was covered in a high oval cone. A finer weave was worn underneath, with flaps down around his neck to his shoulders. He also wore a shield that covered all of his back and straight up over his helmet. He stood out from the other men. The black feathers of the frigate bird sewn into his helmet indicated his position within the tribe; he was their chief.
The women of the village were afraid, but they wove the thick body armours.
The men were busy preparing for conflict and so they did not go out to the deep sea and fish to feed the tribes. It was the women and children that had to collect more coconuts and fish from the reef. The village had become ominous of the impending war.
Ekewane was unaware of what was happening when she was in her unconscious state. But when eventually she did wake up and understood what was happening, she cried; the blood of her people that she had seen was to come about – and it was because of her.
She tried to talk to her father, but his honour was at stake and she knew that he would not abandon his plans.
Then one morning the news had come. Ioopu was dead. Someone had entered his hut and killed him, all eyes were on Erangue, now Ramanmada was not only defending his tribe but it had become a ‘blood vengeance’ - there would be no peace from now on.
Erangue had the huts of his tribe that were scattered amongst the trees, torn down, and rebuilt close together in a circle. He then linked the coconut trees behind the huts with vines and branches; this he thought would help stop anyone creeping into the village at night.
And then the nights were filled with blood.
Enemy tribes creeping through the protection barriers would enter huts and kill indiscriminately; the sour toddy drink gave them courage and fuelled the men. The attackers often burnt the huts of their victims as they left the scene of devastation.
The bodies of the dead were quickly buried in front of the huts. A small rock would indicate the loss of a family member; now the rocks in front of the huts of the tribes around the island were numerous. The surviving members of the families lived in constant fear. It had become a guerrilla warfare; too afraid to go into the undergrowth and too afraid to sleep at night.
The men spoke about their attacks, or how they wanted to be buried. Some men preferred to be buried at sea, so their enemies could not cut up their bodies, whilst others wanted to be buried the more traditional way, near their families. If an enemy was killed the body would be thrown out at sea, or in a deep cave.
The island that had offered shelter to those lost at sea was now killing them one by one.
Ekewane no longer met her friends at their special peaceful place; the boys were either at war or preparing to fight.
Erangue forbade any of the villagers to leave the village at night; it had become too dangerous.
And still the war went on.
Ekewane and Eiru, together with the other women worried about the men that went out at night, and for all those that remained behind; death was always a constant fear.
And still the war went on.
The number of people still alive on the island was now dwindling; soon there would be no more, as the tribes were determined to kill! Each family member killed had to be vindicated; so the killing would never stop, until all were dead.
As the weeks and months went on Ekewane became more anxious for her people.
They had all belonged to one tribe in the beginning. They had all faced the perilous sea to get here; and now they were killing each other. They had forgotten why they initially started the war. She knew that the sour toddy annihilated the men’s sense of reasoning.
She prayed with her mother to the spirit world to stop the carnage, but the spirits of the island ignored them.
“Maybe they do not want us here, this is their island and they want us to destroy each other,” she often thought to herself.
One night she heard the men of her village talk about an attack on Ramanmada’s village, their allies would also be present, they would be in great numbers they reasoned.
Ekewane saw Emarr and his tribe present, she no longer recognised him. He was now a leader, one of the men that commanded respect.
“He has changed, he is no longer the same shy Emarr. I do not know him anymore,” she whispered to herself, and as she whispered these words Emarr lifted his gaze to her as if she had called him. He looked at her sadly and then returned his attention to the other men.
Months had passed since the four friends had sat in their quiet peaceful spot watching the waves.
“Emarr and Bagonoun are my friends, what will become us all? Will we all be killed?”
Ekewane felt angry! She had never been this angry in her life.
“Foolish men!” She yelled. Only the wind and the spirits heard her.
As soon as her words came out, the screaming from the mountain spirit shrieked out as if to confirm the plan that had begun a few nights before, and was now taking form. She knew that she would probably be killed, but if her life could save her family, Emarr, Eiru and Bagonoun and her people, then she was willing to sacrifice herself.
“It is my fault that the war began and now I must try to end it!” she said to herself.
But her words were braver than she felt. “What can I do? I am only a girl.” Her eyes burnt, but the tears this time would not come. For the first time in her life she felt defeated, “If I am not killed first, I will have to watch our people die one by one,” she lowered her head and began to chant a sad and mournful note, it was not one of her mother’s chants, but come from deep inside her. It was a chant of loss and despair.
Ekewane looked around confused. She was still very small and sitting around a fire with other members of her tribe. Emarr and Anweb, her childhood friends, were sitting by her side. She looked over and saw her mother holding her dead baby brother Debao!
“Where am I?”
She was sitting on soft warm sand. She recognised the feel of the sand so different from the limestone reef, “this is my island! I am home!” she said out aloud.
“I have been dreaming about the new island. There was so much pain and suffering there. Angry spirits lived on that island.” For a moment she felt relief flood over her; it was just a dream!
She looked more carefully. There was something strange about the scene. “Where is the other Emarr, and Bagonoun? Did I dream of them too?”
Ekewane looked at the tribe sitting there around the fire listening, so she listened to see why they were all so enthralled.
An old woman sat near the fire at the centre of the circle. Her voice like a whisper, but everyone could hear her. The old woman Wahema was the storyteller of her tribe. Ekewane remembered her, the children looked forward to the nights when Wahema woul
d tell of their beginnings, their legends and myths, and also of their heroes. Ekewane sat there and listened attentively, the legend was about a woman named Rahene, she was the chief.
Rahene had lived a long time ago, in a time when there were many killings with the neighbouring tribes. And it was Rahene’s brave sacrifice that stopped the killings, she had stood in front of the two fighting tribes and lifted her hands in the air and called upon the spirits of their ancestors to stop the senseless killings. Someone had thrown a spear and killed her. Rahene was also a great sorceress, she could contact the spirit world, and so the spirits would now vindicate her death; the tribes were terrified, there was no protection for anyone against the fury of the spirit world, they had seen it before. The sea had rose up like mountains and flooded many of the villages, then there were many years when no rain had come and they went hungry, and there were years when the fish had disappeared. So the tribes put down their weapons and went back to their villagers and prayed forgiveness to the spirits.
Ekewane woke up startled; confused again she was back on the dark island. The spirits had taken her back to when she was on their island and she understood why. It would be difficult and dangerous but she could not bear to see any more of her people die. Death no longer frightened her, she knew that she would join the spirit world- she had been there many times and this thought gave her the courage she would need.
The next morning with the excuse to look for octopus holes she kept walking further along the reef. Nobody took any notice of her and she kept pretending to fish, and all along moved further away from her village. She soon came to Emarr’s village and was afraid that he would be there, but even in this village the people were too preoccupied to notice her.
As soon as she left Emarr’s village she headed through the thick forest towards the mountain. She no longer felt afraid but determined to carry out her plan.
All day she walked. The mountain no longer seemed threatening compared to the hatred killings of the islanders, so she continued. As she walked she chanted her prayers to the spirit world to give her courage.
She remembered Emarr and Bagonoun that night they had rescued her, there had to be a cave with water somewhere. She could not remember where because she had been unconscious for most of the way. She felt thirsty and tired but kept walking determinedly.
It was late in the day, the green of the undergrowth became cooler and darker when she saw hidden behind two large boulders an entrance to a cave.
“The spirits are with me!” She said thinking she had found the same cave.
She hurried towards the opening, and then stopped and listened, afraid that maybe others were waiting inside, and would kill her before she could complete her plan, she knew she would not be able to defend herself against any man. So she listened for a while, it was silent so slowly stepped in.
She was not sure if it was the same cave and cautiously walked into the opening. With a sinking feeling knew that it was different. The cave had a large entrance but then opened into two connecting tunnels. The limestone walls were encrusted with the bones of many fish and animals and she shuddered.
“What will I do?” she asked herself out loud.
She was afraid but knew that she would die soon anyway, so if the spirit world wanted to take her now, they would. So courageously went into the tunnel to the left. It was dark, a dim streak of light filtered through the main cave to the floor of the tunnel, so she followed the faint stream of light on the ground. Her eyes become accustomed to the dim light and she could see the sides of the tunnel. On the sides of the walls there were the exposed roots of trees, and coming down from the ceiling, were thin pointed rocks covered in a leathery dark green substance. The tunnel was not very long and it lead to a small chamber, in the centre was a small pond. Ekewane knelt down and drank thirstily.
Once she had drunk her fill, she ran back to the entrance of the tunnel to the main chamber. The hot air hit her with a whoosh! She remained stunned for a moment; it was cool in the cave. But she did not want to sleep there, so walked a little way ahead and found some branches where she sat down to rest.
“Emarr,” she sighed, “if only he and Bagonoun were here with me,” but then shrugged, she knew they would never have allowed her to carry out her plan.
After a short while she got up, she could not afford to sleep. There was a full moon that night as she stumbled through the undergrowth. She could see the silver rays coming down thought the breaks of the trees. She was no longer convinced she was heading in the right direction and could not go any further, her body ached and she was exhausted, so lay down to have a rest again, but quickly fell into a deep sleep.
A scream awoke her and she sat up startled. “The mountain spirits have awoken me, I must continue,” she said out aloud.
The sun had started coming up over the horizon. The golden rays could be seen streaming though the overhanging branches.
Further along Ekewane could smell the smoke of the night campfires, they were not that far away; and she knew that she had arrived at Ramanmada’s village!
As soon as she came closer and could hear the soft sound of water, she began to crawl until she came in sight of the huts, there she would wait.
The morning went very slowly as the people of the village continued their daily tasks, some of the men walked around the outer edge keeping an eye open for attackers. They did not see the small girl lying there under the cover of branches.
And Ekewane waited.
The sun was straight overhead and still there were no signs of her father, but she did not move. “He will come,” she kept saying to herself.
When sthe un had started to set and the strange light of the tropical twilight bathed the village, she heard a scream – a warning and knew that her tribe was there.
It was going to be a full-on battle face -to -face, Erangue wanted to destroy all of Ramanmada’s village, he had lost too many of his people to keep going with small skirmishes, now his attack would end with the death of one or both of the two chiefs.
The two tribes and their allies stood face-to-face ready for the order or any sudden movement before their killing frenzy would begin. Ekewane looked at the two opposing teams and ran out screaming.
“STOP! STOP!” Everyone looked at the girl bewildered.
Emarr recognised Ekewane and moved towards her, Erangue stopped him.
Ramanmada was about to throw a spear at the stupid girl, but stopped. The other members of the warring tribes also stood deadly silent, confused.
Ekewane closed her eyes listening to the frantic beating of her heart, expecting to take her last breath, the spear that would kill her, but there was only silence and so slowly peeked between her eyelids. The men stood there watching her. She felt the perspiration run down her body, she opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Then she remembered, the blood, all that blood that was always in front of her eyes when she closed them at night; the blood that ran in streams in her dreams - the blood of her people.
The anger within her started bubbling to the surface, she could not stop it, nor control it. She felt her body tremble out of control, and then lost all awareness of whom she was.
A strange eerie silence covered the village, the only sound to be heard was the screaming spirit mountain, but it too stopped.
“Ai! Ai ! Ai ! Our people are dying. We will no longer exist as a people. The spirits of your ancestors have asked you to stop! They will not forgive you if you do not listen to them. The blood vengeances will destroy you all!” Ekewane’s voice was strange; it did not sound like her young voice but that of a very old woman. Ekewane had been in a trance and once the final words were uttered, she dropped to the ground.
It was Emarr who threw down his spear first, and then Erangue, Ramanmada and the other men also laid down their weapons. their ancestors had spoken and they did not dare question the power of the spirits.
Erangue then walked towards his daughter and picked her up sti
ll unconscious. He then returned to where his tribe was standing, with his free hand picked up his weapons, turned around and walked away.
No one spoke.
Ekewane woke up hearing the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. Her father was carrying her.
Emarr and Bagonoun walked on either side of the bewildered girl and smiled at her. Every now and again her body trembled as they slowly walked home together.
Peace had come to the island again. The war had ended just as swiftly it had begun. The islanders went again about their daily lives. The dead whose bodies were buried in front of the huts had now become part of the spirit world and would be called upon to protect those that had survived. The villagers offered them food and coconuts as were the customs of their people since time began. Their ancestors were the guardians of the house and family, and once again they had saved them.
Ekewane, Eiru, Bagonoun and Emarr sat silently in the place that had been abandoned for many months. Nobody spoke, each contented to be there with each other. Emarr held Ekewane’s hand and she again felt safe.
Erangue and Emanear were watching the four friends sitting together quietly.
“The spirits on the island have changed our children. One day our children will not be bound by our traditions. The time of asking the spirits of our ancestors to help us will end. When we are gone, our future children will not remember us. Our children will be lost without the spirits of our ancestors. There will come a time when they will seek other Gods because they will be confused and afraid. Our people will have to face many difficulties in the times to come and they will be lost.”
Emanear looked up at her husband and he saw the tears running down her face. He laid his arm across her shoulders and they slowly walked back to their hut. He did not question Emanear. She had great magic within her, so he knew she was right and had foreseen the future of their people.
The old woman sat there silently, her eyes transfixed on the fire as if in a trance. All around her was silence. The group of people sitting around the fire knew that the story of their people for tonight, had ended, and soon the old woman would slowly get up and walk back to her hut. The story of their tribe would continue again another night. The children looked forward to this storytelling and the adults, although they had heard the stories before, would never be tired of hearing them. No one moved as they waited for the old woman.
Then she whispered: “The story of our people has been told and must remain told.” Then stood up unsteadily, and staggered towards her hut.
Island Village
Tribal Clans and Classes
Ramaoide (elite members of the tribe)
Eilu Clan
Great Head Chief Ekriaro - (grandfather - remained on island home)
First settlers on Volcanic Island
Erangue (father) Emenear (mother)
Ekewane (girl 12) Enara (boy 8 ) Equi (4) Daboi (baby boy-deceased)
Gaida (uncle)….. Erianga (aunt)
Eiru (girl 12 cousin)
Enename (middle class )
Iwa Clan
Ramanmada (father) Enemame (mother)
Ioopu (boy 16 ) Emet (girl 14 )
Gope (boy 16 Ioopu’s friend) Iudi (girl 14 Emet’s cousin and friend)
Sitio (lower class members of the tribe -slave like position)
Kalab Clan
Roqua (father) Gorube (mother)
Emmar (boy 16)
Strangers from another island
Bagonoun (boy 16 – Emmar’s friend from another island)
Synopsis
Ekewane is a young girl on the brink of womanhood. For thousands of years her ancestors had lived on an island in the Pacific. However, due to years of drought many tribal members were forced to migrate in search of a new land in which to settle.
Ekewane is faced with fears of not only surviving on an unknown island, but her own feelings as she becomes a woman. On her quest she discovers powers within her that she has inherited from her ancestors. Ekewane forms a friendship with three other young people who are also faced with a fight for survival.
The story looks at the dangers and fears faced by islanders in their wooden canoes, as they travelled the vast unpredictable Pacific Ocean in search of new islands to settle. They take with them a culture embedded in magical beliefs, sorcery and mystical beings as they face unknown dangers with only their courage, and the belief in their gods and ancestors whom they pray to help them survive.
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