Mana
A Legend 
By John A. Broussard 
The Samoans and Tongans had done battle for many generations. Whenever their war canoes met on the open sea, the Samoans emerged victorious, but when the Samoan warriors landed on the Tongan beaches they were always driven off. It took only the presence of the Tongan chief with his mysterious power of repelling attacks and turning the invaders' spears back upon themselves, to send the Samoans scrambling back to their homeland, pursued by terror of the unknown. 
One day, the wife of a wise chief of the Samoans bore him a boy child whose birth cries kept the entire village awake that night. Luelu, as he was called, grew quickly. Before the sun had traveled its full course from its northernmost home to its southernmost one, Luelu had already begun to utter words. His mother smiled, and called him her little 'talker.' He talked, but he also listened. 
The elders marveled at how quickly the growing boy mastered the genealogies, the wisdom of the people, the legends of the Samoans. And his peers listened with rapt attention as he wove fantasies to amuse them during games of tilu, or while they rested on the sandy beach, tired from swimming the waters of the vast lagoon. 
As Luelu grew, his deeds rivaled his speech. In the games played by the young men, he soon became the invariable winner, whether in mock battles, spear throwing or vaulting. His father, the chief, could see that Luelu would be not only a great warrior but would, indeed, be a leader of the Samoan fighting men. The eyes of the young, unmarried women followed the handsome figure, and his persuasive words swayed the hearts of many of them. 
Yet most of Luelu's concerns were those of a warrior. Conscious of his growing strength, and impatient with the failure of the Samoan warriors to defeat the Tongans, Luelu one day proposed sending a massive fleet of war canoes to overwhelm the enemy. His father smiled at his impetuous son and said, "For countless generations we have tried the force of our spears against the Tongans. The results have been mounds of Samoan bodies. Only the discovery of their secret will bring success to the campaign you propose." 
"Surely father," Luelu replied, "there must be some way to discover the secret of the Tongan chief. If we go there in overwhelming force, perhaps we can unlock that secret." 
Luelu's father continued to smile at his handsome son. "How do we fell the giant koa when we wish to fashion it into a canoe? Do we go into the forest and hack away with our axes at the tree?" 
"No," the young man replied, "We carefully remove the bark at the base, allow the tree to die, and the wind topples it for us. By then it is properly seasoned and ready for the knives and chisels of the craftsmen." 
"How do we catch our fish when we hunger? Do we go out in the reefs and stab at the water with our spears?" 
"No, father. Only children would do such a thing. We weave nets and drop them in the quiet pools. Then we wait patiently for the schools to swim over the nets and into their meshes." 
"How do we hunt the birds who provide flesh for our meals and plumage for our cloaks? Do we climb the tall koas and walk the slim branches to grasp them?" 
"Never, father. That would be foolishness itself. Instead, we use the sticky sap of the breadfruit, and when the bird entraps itself we simply harvest our prey." 
"So now you see how futile it would be to flail helplessly at what we want when our goal is to be obtained by another, perhaps not so direct, but far smoother path." 
Leaving his father's presence, the son was wrapped in his own thoughts. Planning, patience and perseverance seemed to him to be the gist of his father's instructions. With that in mind he gathered his young warrior friends to discuss a new approach to mastery of the Tongan foe. Soon a scheme emerged. 
Several days later a small and lightning-swift racing canoe set out for Tonga. Approaching those islands, the warriors spotted the tall cliff near the village of the Tongan chief. At sight of it, they dropped the sail, waited for darkness, and then silently paddled toward a sandy beach. Carefully lowering himself into the shallow waters, Luelu bade farewell to his companions until the next dark moon, waded ashore, then slashed his chest and arms with his knife and flung the weapon out to sea. Eating a small portion of the gall-bladder of the oopuhue, he sat on the beach, waiting for the poison to take effect. 
It was shortly after dawn that playing children, as they ran the length of the beach, discovered the unconscious and wounded stranger. Elders from the nearby village answered their cries and the still figure was carried into one of the thatched huts. When Luelu drifted back to consciousness, he remembered to speak with halting and belabored words in order to disguise the tongue he knew the Tongans would recognize as that of their enemies. 
His rescuers were friendly but inquisitive. Luelu, recovering from his self-inflicted wounds and the effects of the poison, played on their curiosity. He told them a tale of a lost craft drifting for days, of a terrible storm swamping it and drowning the rest of the crew, of his long journey from a faraway western island and his last days guiding a crippled canoe with a splintered paddle, a broken mast and a shredded sail. His tale brought sympathetic sounds from his listeners. By the third day, the stories he wove brought suggestions that this spinner of wondrous tales be taken before their chief. 
It was the third morning after his arrival, when he was now able to stand and walk, that he was helped on the short journey to a neighboring village and into the presence of the Tongan chief. It was in that presence that the way to uncover the secret occurred to him. It was a way he had never dreamt would be there, but he knew it would be a smooth path he would surely tread successfully. 
Tupala had just come of age. Soon the slender, lovely woman, who had so recently been a girl, would marry. The chief of the Tongans was proud of this daughter, almost as proud as he was of Tupou, his only son. Allowing the stranger to stand in the presence of the royal family, the old chief, now blind and almost deaf, urged him to repeat his story and to speak it loudly. 
Luelu remembered his father's questions and the lessons he had learned from his own replies. As he recited his false tale in careful but hesitant words, he never once rested his eyes on Tupala, recalling that the path to his goal might best be an indirect one. Now he embroidered on his story. He made himself the eldest son of a chief from that distant land, his crew had been his attendants, his quest a search for the loveliest woman to be found in the wide ocean, a woman who would become his bride and return with him to rule over an island rich with fruit and fish. Already he had visited many islands in his unsuccessful search, only to have it cut short by the gods of the storm, of the sea, and of the wind. 
The chief was pleased at what he heard and called for the evening meal to be served. Tupala retreated with the other women as the servants entered with mounds of food piled on ti leaves. The chief invited the stranger to sit with him and his son and to partake of the rich meal, urging Luelu all the while to tell him about his homeland, about the long voyage and the storm that had interrupted his quest. 
Perhaps it was the fermented drink from the awa, or perhaps it was merely the knowledge that here he was sitting only an arm's length from the mystery he had set out to solve, which loosened his tongue. Whatever the cause, Luelu began speaking fluently and carelessly. Tupou, the tall, powerful son of the chief wondered about this stranger, and the more the stranger spoke, the more Tupou's eyes narrowed in suspicion. The chief, wrapped in the infirmities of his age, sensed nothing amiss. Instead, he enjoyed to the utmost the deft depiction of stars he had never seen, of customs he had never encountered and of places he had never heard of. 
When the sun neared the end of its swift glide into the western ocean, the old chief invited Luelu to stay that night and sleep in the men's house and to return the next morning to finish his tale. That was when Luelu noticed something strange. As the old man struggled to his feet, he tottered and almost fell. Yet no one came to his aid. Even his son stood quietly by. Only the use of his rod of state as a cane rescued him from the fall. Luelu not only took note, he also wondered. 
The following day's audience included the women, Tupala among them. Again, Luelu took no notice of the chief's daughter as his story grew and grew, borrowing on the legends of his people, filling in the gaps with his fertile imagination. While he spoke, his eye fell on a barely nubile girl, a maidservant of the family, one with an open face whose features were now clearly showing her fascination with this strange and handsome storyteller. 
When the chief, his son, and several of the male elders gathered for the midday meal, Luelu took the opportunity to inquire about the maidservant. The chief smiled at the question. "O'onane is a breadfruit tree ready for its first harvest. I can see no reason why you should not laugh with her. Your long journey without a woman should make you an eager harvester. I will see that the word of your interest reaches the women's house." 
Luelu smiled to himself as he saw yet another step in his scheme successfully mastered, but this time he was fully aware of Tupou's stormy face which had darkened ominously on hearing Luelu speak of O'onane. Late that night, O'onane slipped out of the women's house. The sliver of a moon and the bright morning star was enough to show the smile on her face and her pleasure at finding Luelu waiting for her. 
The days went by, and Luelu taught the young men of the island some of the craft of Samoa, new lashings for the outriggers, a different weave for the pandanus fronds to shed the tropical rains, and strange and humorous variants on their common legends. The nights went by filled with O'onane under the palms along the beach, beneath a waxing moon shining down on their lovemaking. 
When they were not laughing together, Luelu regaled his adoring partner with stories from his mythical homeland, but he also prompted her to tell him more about herself, about the royal family and about the aura surrounding the old chief. Reluctant at first to speak of that aura, O'onane slowly painted a picture even more strange than what Luelu had anticipated. 
"He possesses mana," O'onane whispered into Luelu's attentive ear. "Not only will it turn the club or spear of anyone wishing him harm, it can also strike out against those who may touch him or even reach toward him." 
"Where did he get this mana? Where will it go when he dies? Can no one touch him without being harmed? What of..." 
O'onane laughed softly as she put her hand to his lips to silence him. "Enough, enough," she said. "I know so little about it, I cannot even answer the questions you ask and certainly not all the others yet to burst from you. Only the chief could answer your questions, or perhaps Tupou. The stories in the village are that the chief will soon be passing the mana to him along with the feathered rod of state. That is all I know." 
It was that night, while he felt the sleep breath of O'onane on his chest, that Luelu saw most clearly the next rung on the ladder and the size of the step he would have to take to attain it. The following day he took that step, when the young men had gathered and had begun playing the sports that young men play. Luelu challenged one of the Tongan males to a contest of uma, an arm wrestling duel. Luelu had long practiced it with the strongest of his own warriors and had become the unchallenged champion of the sport. 
The Tongan knelt on the ground, planted the elbow of his right arm firmly in front of him and opened his hand. Luelu knelt opposite him, and they joined hands. One of the other men counted and, at the third beat, Luelu easily pushed his opponent's hand flat to the ground. Then others challenged him, and Luelu dealt with them just as swiftly. 
Finally, the tallest of the Tongans knelt opposite him, grinned and extended his open palm. Luelu met the challenge, gradually forcing the giant Tongan's hand flat to the sandy ground. The men surrounding the pair cheered. Then someone said, 'There is only one uma wrestler left. Others immediately shouted, "Tupou! Tupou!" and the tall son of the chief stepped through the crowd. 
Without a word, Tupou knelt, firmly planted his elbow in the ground and stretched his palm out to meet Luelu's. The count began. At the third beat the muscles of the two contestants rippled in the noon sun. Sweat stood out on their foreheads. The veins bulged on their hands and arms. Slowly, ever so slowly, Luelu forced Tupou's forearm back and back. Then, suddenly, with a supreme effort, Tupou recovered. Tupou's arm followed through the full arc and slammed Luelu's to the ground. 
The onlookers shook the palm trees with their cheers. They praised both contestants. Soon afterwards the crowd had turned to playing the game of maika with circular stones. While the others were engrossed in their game, Tupou called Luelu aside. "I know you allowed me to win," he said, "so that I would not be shamed before my people. Now I owe you a favor. I do not know who you really are, stranger, but once I have repaid my debt, beware! I know you harbor only ill will for me and my people." 
"You are mistaken," Luelu replied. "I bear neither you nor your people any ill will. Nor did I allow you to win, but I will accept your favor. I ask only that you relieve me of a burden." 
"What burden?" 
"Why, O'onane, of course. You mean you did not know? All she does is speak of Tupou. It is Tupou this and Tupou that. She is enamored of you, but cannot admit it even to herself. Talk to her, and you will see that I speak truly." 
Tupou's face took on the look of a storm cloud. "You know I cannot do that. During the day, my rank would never allow me to speak to her. At night, I cannot enter the women's house. Only if she comes to me willingly can I know that what you tell me is true." 
"Surely you must have some way of getting a message to her. Could not your sister be your messenger?" 
The darkness slipped from Tupou's face. "Of course. Tupala will do that for me." 
"You must be cautious. O'onane does not know her own heart. Tell your sister to warn O'onane that your father, the Chief, has selected her as bride to the greatest of his warriors and that she must no longer slip out of the woman's house at night. Now, if you will have your sister meet me tonight, I will tell her how to persuade O'onane to read the true message of her heart." 
Tupou's frank and open face glowed. "If you can give Tupala the words to persuade O'onane to come willingly to me, then you will be able to ask your own price as reward." 
That evening, even before the last pink of twilight had disappeared, Luelu waited nervously in the shade of an enormous kukui near the women's house. It wasn't until the eastern horizon began to silver with the light of the rising full moon that a tall, slender figure emerged. 
"I come at my brother's behest," Tupala said, looking at the face now fully illuminated in the moonlight. 
The two walked toward the beach as Luelu called upon all his gifts of speech to entrance the lovely Tupala. His words were convincing because he himself was convinced. Soon, they were laughing together. Still, Luelu never lost sight of his true quest. 
Amidst the whispers of lovers he discovered that the old chief was indeed ready to pass along the power of his office to Tupou. That the date was set for the very last crescent of the moon, the time would be in the early evening after the last pink shade of twilight had faded, the dark moon had set, and when the evening star first appeared above the low hill behind the village. The place would be the chief's stone shelter, with no one else present but father and son. 
Luelu's mind raced. Tupou was becoming impatient, reminding Luelu of his promise. The stories Luelu fended him off with had to be carefully fashioned. And there were other plans to be made, and more to be learned in order to carry out those plans. His words to Tupala became sweeter and more seductive than ever. Intoxicated with the sounds of the husky voice, she knew only that she wanted to be this handsome, loving stranger's bride, to go with him and to share in the love and homage of his people. 
Luelu gave her his unqualified promise, and also appeared to devote himself to fulfilling her brother's fondest dream. The scheme unfolded, and Luelu gave Tupala her instructions. O'onane would be told to go to the high cliff and wait there for Tupou early on the night of the ceremony. Luelu would himself guide Tupou to the spot, and afterwards would return to meet Tupala at the beach near their trysting place. 
On that day, Luelu took Tupou aside and told him that O'onane would meet him, that the spot had been chosen. Tupou was unable to suppress his excitement, asking only what he could do in return for his benefactor. Luelu at first seemed unwilling to make a request, but finally said, "There is one small favor I would ask of you. Could I for one night only wear the whale-tooth ornament?" As he spoke, he pointed to the royal emblem hanging at Tupou's neck. 
With a smile, Tupou removed from his own neck the pig gut strung through the giant tooth and hung the badge of royalty about Luelu's neck. That night, as the skies darkened, Luelu waited along the path leading to the cliff. The first to come by was the impatient Tupou, striding swiftly along the trail. Moments later O'onane, staring disconsolately at her reluctant feet, followed the same path. 
Luelu stepped out of the surrounding brush. Even in the swiftly darkening night, the radiance of recognition shone in the young girl's face. Luelu assured her that he had pined for her, that only the mad infatuation Tupala had showered on him, with all the threats of her royal position behind it, had kept Luelu from invading the women's house and spiriting O'onane away. 
Shocked though she was at the mere mention of such a terrible sacrilege, O'onane was too overwhelmed by the return of her handsome and loving Luelu to do anything but acquiesce to his wishes, and he made one known immediately. Would she, for him, keep Tupou on the cliff's summit until the morning light? "Tomorrow," he continued, "I will ask the chief for a canoe and a crew of his warriors to take you and me back to my land. Now I truly know I have reached the end of my quest." 
As he watched O'onane's small form disappear into the dimness along the path, Luelu knew he had only one more rung to climb on the tall ladder. Quickly he turned and raced to the chief's stone shelter, arriving just as the evening star broke over the crest of the hill. 
"Is that you, my son?" A feeble voice in the darkness, broken only by the light of a single string of burning candle-nuts, greeted him as he stepped through the door. 
Careful to speak in a low voice, Luelu answered, "Yes, father." 
"Come closer. My feeble eyes can only deceive me. My ears no longer can be trusted. Only my fingers still maintain some of the wisdom of their youth. Let me touch you." The gnarled old hands moved up the muscular chest and found the whale-tooth ornament. "It is indeed you, Tupou. Tonight you become the chief of the Tongan people." 
Luelu listened well as he rehearsed and rehearsed the phrases pouring from the withered lips of the old chieftain, committing every word and nuance to memory. There followed the list of duties he would now assume, the demeanor he must cultivate to command the loyalty of his people, and finally the intricacies of this force he now possessed which would make him a person apart. 
The ceremony over, the old chief handed him the rod of state, saying, "Go now to the men's house. Awaken them, and warn them you now carry the sacred force that has guarded us since the ancients came to this island. Know now that no longer may anyone touch you with impunity. Go! Go!" 
Luelu could hardly believe the night had passed so quickly. The first pale color of the morning was showing when he emerged from the stone hut. Racing to the beach he found the patient Tupala still waiting, and far out at sea he could make out the Samoan canoe, the equally patient crew waiting for a signal from shore. 
"Come, Tupala, he said. My warriors are coming to get me. If you wish to return to my country with me, you must come now." Bewildered by this sudden turn of events, torn between her love of her own people and her love for this stranger who promised so much and promised it so sweetly, Tupala took a last look back at the village of her childhood, then followed the beckoning form into the waves. 
Both were powerful swimmers, and the racing canoe, with its crew throwing their weight behind the paddles and the sail catching the first feeble onshore breezes of the morning, moved swiftly toward them. Behind at the beach, however, Tongan warriors were racing even more swiftly to man their own sea craft. The couple reached their goal when it was but a long spear-throw away from the war canoes. 
As the two clambered aboard, the giant Tongan who had challenged Luelu in the game of uma stood in the prow of his canoe and hurled his spear with enormous force. It arced through the air toward the fugitives, turned full circle before reaching its target and returned, burying itself in his chest. Tupala's eyes went from the toppling figure in the war canoe to the handsome form of Luelu taunting his pursuers, who had now stopped paddling as they sought to retrieve the body of their fallen comrade. 
The wind rose. The racing canoe tacked against it, rounding the high point of the land. The passengers turned to look at a small figure standing at the edge above them. Shading his eyes, Luelu recognized the form of O'onane. For a moment it hesitated, then it plunged down the face of the cliff into the rocks and breakers. 
© 2002 John A. Broussard