LEBAI MALANG

On the bank of a river in Central Sumatra there once lived a man, called Lebai, who made his living by teaching people to read the Koran. His house stood in a village which lay between two densely populated villages, the one north and the other south of the river.

It happened that one day two rich families in the two villages were giving a big party at the very same hour of the same day. Both families had invited prominent as well as poor people and Lebai got two invitations, as he was a religious teacher, in those days higly respected in the village.

On the morning of the feast Lebai dressed himself in his best and made for his boat, but before reaching it, a greedy thought struck his mind. He could not decide which village to visit fisrt.

"Upstream," he thought, "is closed by; the food is well cooked, and quite to my taste, but they have slaughtered only one water-buffalo. People there don't know me very well and they won't therefore pay much respect to me." According to the custom of the village inhabitants, respect was shown by offering a person the prepared head of a water-buffalo.

"On the contrary the village down stream knows me very well; however, it is farther off. Te family has slaughtered two buffaloes; it's likely I'll get two heads after the meal but they cannot cook very well." This he knew by experience, because he had once dined up stream asa well as downstream?

In the end he decided to row first to be nearby village up-stream. There were many boats on the river, bound north with people in colourful dresses and in high spirits, gaily singing and waving to each other, shouting loudly any time their boats of the river and was only halfway to the village upstream, he changed his mind. He thought: "It is a pity that they are giving a big feast on the same day. Why should I go first upstream? There will only be one buffalo head. Why should I not go downstream first? there will be two of them." He knew the family downstream better than the family down-stream were giving money gifts and other presents as well. Lebai lingered no longer, turned his boat and paddled downstream. When he was almost within reach of the village downstream, he passed people in boats rowing upstream.

"Where are you rowing to? We are all making for the north," they shouted to Lebai.
"They are right," Lebai thought. "Why should I go to the south when they are serving only skinny animals? The dishes are not well cooked and I can't eat to my heart's content." Then he swiftly made for the north.

But arriving upstream, he saw people leaving the feasts is over. The prayer has been finished." Poor Lebai! Gone was the head of the buffalo. There was for him nothing else to do but to race southwards, if he wanted to get the two heads and the other presents, in spite of the food not being cooked tastefully.

The day was far advanced and it was very hot. Lebai perspired and became very weary, but never mind; try he would. He did not lose all hope and rowed vigorously to the south as he had to reach the house quickly; besides, he had become very hungry. Alas! On treaching the house, he also saw people leaving the place and making for their boats. Here too the feast was over. Lebai could have cried in disappointment. Everything was finished, the heads as well as the presents and the money gifts he had frantically hoped for. Poor, poor Lebai! Gone was all he had desired!

He felt weak and with slow strokes of his oars he managed to reach his house. There awaited him a small bit of cold rice wrapped in pieces of banana leaves. Then he thought: "I'd rather go fishing; perhaps I can sell the fish, for eating with the rice, was usually kept, his fishing rod an his dog. If he was not able to catch some fish, he would go hunting for a deer with the dog.

Reaching a good spot for fishing, he fastened his boat, threw his line into the water and waited. After a while he could not endure his hunger any longer, as his stomach was aching. He opened his packed of rice and tapped the box on the side of the boat to get the fish out of it, but unluckily the boat suddenly tolled and the fish flew right into the water. Lebai jumped into the river in trying to catch it. His fingers fumbled for the fish but in vain! When came out of the water and tried to get into his boat, he discovered that the dog had eaten up the rice. Unfortunate Lebai! The day had not brought luck for him. People had been enjoying delicious food and a pleasant day but for Lebai the day had ended in great disappiontment. In his great sorrow he realised that he sholud not have asked for too much.

People in both villages heard obout his adeventures and after thet time he had the name Lebai Malang, meaning unlucky religious teacher. Even today the name Lebai Malang is applied to anybody who is in the same plight as Lebai Malang, meaning a person whose weakness of character lies his unability to decide.

The Legend of Toar and Limimuut

There was once a big rock in the middle of the ocean. It was so big that it rose above the surface of the water. Furthermore, it was not an ordinary rock. When the sun shone on it, it perpired and out of this perspiration was born a pretty little girl called Limimuut. The story does not tell in what way she grew up, but certainly she was a wonder-child, living in wonderful circumstances and in a time rich in wonders. The story only tells us that, when she was grown up, she felt very lonely.

One day, when she was standing on top of the rock, she gazed with eyes full of wonder at the vast ocean and the big, undulating waves. As she stood there, she suddenly caught sight of a crow, holding in its beak a dry branch and continuolusly circling the spot where the girl stood. Limumuut became curious abd wondered where the bird had come from and where it had found the branch. Suddenly the bird spoke to her: "I have carried it from the Taoere area," great was the girls" surpeise on finding that the bird could read her thought and could speak her language. Then she asked:"I am anxious to go to that land. Will you take me there?"

The bird agreed to do so, and away they flew to reach taoere, for Limimuut herself could fly too.

On arriving there, they found a small piece of land, no larger than a sieve, just emerging above the surface of the sea, one of the many island in the watery vastness. The crow stopped flying and said: "We are at our destination. This is the land where I found the branch; it bears the name of Taoere." Then he flew away, leaving Limimuut once again alone.

"Alone!" she whispered to herself. Again alone, and all around is water.

Then an idea struck her. As if directed by an invisible hand, she took a small amount of soil, just as much as she could hold in her hand. She flew to the barren rock from which she had come and scattered the soil on the rock. A strange thing happened. This small amount of soil grew out into a big land. On the ninth day it stopped growing, for the work was complete.

As Limimuut looked around, she realised that the ground was barren. She flew again to Taore and took another handful of soil. On returning home, she again scaterres the soil on the barren ground. Something green began to emerge from the land, and this became the vegetation that we have on our earth today. But Limimuut was not yet satisfied. She made a mountain in the southern part of the land. When this had risen high enough, she climbed till she reached the top. There another strange thing occurred; she became pregnant while she was standing there looking towards the west. A few months later, a child was born to her, a healthy son to whom she gave the name Toar.

Years went by and Toar grew up into a handsome young man. The mother thought that the time had come for him to choose a wife. But where could he find a woman to marry? Again the mother had an idea.

"Son," she said to him, "roam the world until you find a wife."

The son obeyed his mother's instruction and set off for the other part of the ocean. He travelled a long distance but still could find no one fit to be his wife. Then he return home, telling his mother that he had not been succsessful in finding a woman he could marry.

"Well," replied his mother. "Cut a piece of cane as long as I am myself, then go to the right. I myself shall go to the left. If on your way you encounter a woman carriying a piece of cane longer than yours, take her as your wife."

Toar once again obeyed, and so they parted. The son went to the right and the mother to the left, roving the earth which in those days was not as big as nowadays.

In the end, as Toar went on his way, he saw a woman approaching him. He put out his stick and measured the cane she was carrying. Seeing that hers was longer than his, he asumed that she was the woman he had been looking for all the time. He made her his wife and took her home. Little did he suspect that it was his own mother he had married. He thought only about the message concerning the length of the stick. In actual fact the cane had grown and had become longer and so had deceived him when he chose the woman to be his wife.

They returned to the mountain built by Limimuut. There they lived happily together, Limimuut bearing him children three times, but every time there were nine in number. These children lived peacefully with each other, sharing together all that their parents possessed, and this group of people became the ancestors of the people of Minahasa today.

Sangkuriang

In the time when West Java was still thickly covered with woods and undergroeth and wonders existed, there riegned a king, named Raden Sungging Pebangkara. He was a good ruler and to convince himself of thewelfare of his subjects, he used to visit them. But the thing he liked most was hunting in the forest.

It happened that in one og the forests the king often visited there lived a she-pig, actually a cursewd godness. One day, as it was very warm, she saw a coconut-shell. Filled with water. Glad to have found something and expecting it to be coconut-milk, she drank it at a draught, having no suspicious whatsoever that it was the king�s urine, left there the day before when hunting. The consequence was very strange. She became pregnant. In a few months she gave birth to a very pretty girl. When the king was once hunting again in the forest, he saw the girl and, attracted by her beauty, he took her to his palace, called her Dayang Sumbi and treated her as his own daughter.

Time passed and Dayang Sumbi grew up inti a fine young girl. She was fond of weaving and thus passed her time. One bright morning, as she was absorbed in weaving, her weaving-spool got loose suddenly. Before she could prevent it, it flew out of the window to the field below. It was out of her reach, as her room was about three storeys high. Furthermore she was very tired and had no wis to descend the stairs to fetch the spool. Quite at least, she mumbled: "Whoever is willing to help me pick up the spool, I'll take him as my husband. "These words were overhead by a dog, called Tumang, who happened to come along. He immadiately pickied up the spool and brought it to Dayang Sumbi. Tumang was in fact a cursed god too, like the she-pig. Seeing the dog with the spool in his mouth, Dayang Sumbi fainted. The gods had decided for her to undergo the same fate as her mother, the she-pig. She too became pregnant and a short time afterwards she gave birth to a healthy strong son, whom she called Sangkuriang.

Sangkuriang became a handsome young man, as time went by. Like his grandfather, he was fond of hunting in in the forest and Tumang was his faithful friend when roaming the woods. He loved this creature very much, having no idea at all that it was his own father. One day while hunting, they came across a fat pig. Sangkuriang strung his bow and zzzzzzzzzz! The arrow hissed towards the she-pig, and hit but did not kill her. Wounded, she vanished into the undergrowth.

"Come on, Tumang, run after her!" Sangkuriang shouted, eager to taste the pork. Tumang, however, did not move. Whatever Sangkuriang said ti urge Tumang to pursue the pig, it left him anmoved. Sangkuriang lost his self control. In his anger he killed Tumang, cut up his flesh inti pieces and took it home to his mother. She prepared a tasty dish of it and after the meal she asked:

"Sangkuriang, what kind of flesh is this? It is very delicious!"
"This is Tumang's, mother," Sangkuriang responded. "I killed him, as he did not obey my command to pursue a fat pig."

For one moment Dayang Sumbi was speechless. Then in rage she took a spool and flung it at him. It struck his forehead and blood dropped out of the wound. This left later on a scar on the spot. Then Dayang Sumbi sent him away.

Deeply grieved, Sangkuriang left and wandered through the woods. He walked for years. Finally he returned to his native place, but did not recognise it any longer. There he stood, looking around him, all alone, musing about the past. At the end of a vast rice-field, whish strecthed in front of him, he noticed a house on stilts. Looking closely, he saw a young girl sitting at her weaving-loom. He approached her and, charmed by her beauty, he immadiately proposed to her, unaware thet she was his own mother. The girl looked at him and, noticing his good looks, she promised to marry him. For sometime they loved each other tenderly, making plans for their wedding day, but one day she discovered the scar on his forehead.

"That wound!" she whispered, and at that moment she realised that he was no other than her own son who had come back to his village. After being left by Sangkuriang, Dayang Sumbi had been given by the gods eternal beauty, which was why she looked so young and Sangkuriang did not recognised her as his mother. She made efforts to make him impossible and withdrew her promise to marry him. But Sangkuriang refused to accept the truth and was determined to get his own way. Dayang Sumbi was very sad, as she was ashamed to reveal her secret.

"What is to be done?" she pondered. She had an idea and said to him: "All right then, you shall marry me only on condition that you fulfill a wish af mine. Dam up the Citarum River and build a big vessel. Which we shall use after being married. But you have only one night to complete the work. Only at daybreak did he approach the end, in spite of his magic power and his prayers to the gods for help. Noticing this, Dayang Sumbi got alarmed and hit upon another plan to prevent the marriage. She strected the red woven veil which covered her head over the eastern side of the plan. Through her magic powers, red light spread over the labdscape, giving the impression that the sun was rising, which meant that time was up for Sangkuriang. He was astonished.

"In vain!" he shouted in despair and at the same time filled with rage, he kicked the vessel. Which was almost finished, upside-down. Then he made for the south, for the Indian Ocean. He had not gone very far when the water of the lake rose and overflowed its banks, dragging everything in its way. Sangkuriang himself had no away. Some time later the lake dried up. The mountain of Tangkuban Prahu on the northern side of Bandung is thought to be the overtuned vessel of Sangkuriang. In time it becae covered with trees and the lake became the present fertile rice-fields in the Bandung area, yielding every year great benefits for the people around.

HOW THE PARAKEET KING REGAINED HIS FREEDOM

A parakeet king and his subject once had their nests in a tall tree in one of Aceh's forests. They were always up early in the morning, usually before sun-rise, to make ready for the flight to farr-off places in search of food. Late in the evening they returned home, then stayed in their nests to rest till the next morning. This happened day after day, for such was their life.

But once bright morning they discovered to their consternation that there was no possibility of them leaving their nests. Their wings and bodies were glued together. "Why?" they wondered, but they did not get any answer.

"What can we do?" they asked each other in panic. Only the parakeet king was calm. He said: "I think somebody has come by day to snare us. A human being must have done this to catch us. You know we can speak; we can imitate human speech and therefore everybody wants us in his house. This person can sell us for a lot of money or he can also prepare delicious food og us for his family."

"All right then, but how can we escape?" asked one bird.

"Don't worry," the king answered. "I have an idea. This morning someone will surely come to find out whether he was successful in snaring us. When he arrives here, don't move; lie as if dead. He will certainly think we are dead and then he will throw us to the ground. When you are on the ground, keep still and count to ninety nine. This will mean that all of us have fallen; then fly away together. Understand?" they nodded.

The king was right. A few hoursa later, the bird saw a boy approaching their tree. He looked upwards and saw the birds lying in their nests.

"How lucky I am!" he whispered in joy. "All of them are still in their nests! Hmmmm, I'll get plenty of money. I can buy fine clothes and something for my parents." It was this boy, called Meuseukin, who had put lime in in the nests to catch the bird. Full of expectation, he climbed up the tree but great was his disappointment on discovering that all the creatures were dead.

"Unlucky me!" he cried. Annoyed at the sad discovery, he flung all of them one by one to the ground. The parakeet king's nest was on the highest branch of the tree and therefore the king was the last to be thrown to the ground. But just as the boy was about to throw the bird down, his knife fell out of his pocket. The sound of its fall caused the birds on the ground to think that their number was complete, and therefore they all flew away at the same moment. The birds, as well as Meuseukin, were surpeised, the birds on discovering that their king was not in their group and Meuseukin of finding that the birds had played a trick upon him.

"How stupid I am!" he grumbled. "But never mind, another time I'll be lucky. "While he was standing under the tree he noticed a bird fly down and touch the lower branch of nearby tree. The bird could not fly away as on his wings and legs there was still lime, which held him fast to the branch. Time after time he attempted to get loose, but in vain.

"Well!" Meuseukin thought, "it is the parakeet king! How beautiful he looks!"meuseukin stealthily approached the bird an in one moment he got hold of his legs. Although the parakeet struggled to get free, he could not, for the grasp of the body's hand was too firm for the little bird.

"Poor me!" lamented the unlucky creature. "This boy will prepare a delicious meal of me for his family."

Meuseukin took the bird home. But on the way the bird suddenly spoke to him: "Please don't kill me. I'll bring you much wealth and happiness."

"Can I trust you?"
"You'll see; just let me live," the parakeet king ansewered.
On arriving home Meuseukin put the bird in a beautiful yellow cage and hung it on ther front veranda of his house. There every morning he sang his lovely songs to the great enjoyment of all around. His subject too had heard him and they flew to the house, sitting on the ridge of the roof. Soon the beauty and the melodious voice of the small ceature become known all trough the land. People came from every corner of the country to see and hear the bird sing, bringing eith them nice food, money and fine clothes for Meuseukin. Soon Meuseukin become a wealthy man and did not regret having trusted the bird.

The fame of the bird also reached the king's ears. He too wanted to see the bird and hear him sing. Therefore a messenger was sent from the court to Meuseukin with instruction to tell him to come to the palace of the king, bringing the bird with him. This was a great day FOR Meuseukin. He put on his best clohtes and made for the palace, carrying the bird in a beautiful, brand-new cage. On his arrival at the palace gate, a courtier met him and took hin into the presence of the king. The latter was already sitting with other guests in the big hall where the bird was to sing.

Up and down, loud and soft, sounded the melodious voice, as clear as a bell, tat came from the bird's throath. The king abd the audience were very pleased.

"No instrument whatsoever could surppass that heavenly voice," they said.

After the performance Meuseukin was asked to sell the bird to the king. As he himself was eager to keep the bird, he hesitated but the bird whispered to him:"Don't be afraid; please sell me to the king. You wont't regret it; it will be to your advantage." Up to that moment the bird had not disappointed him, so why not trust him this time? Therefore Meuseukin presented the parakeet to the king. In return he received a great amount of money, besides valuable presents. From that time on, Meuseukin was the whealthiest man in the village.

At the royal court the parakeet king lived a truly kingly life. His cage was made of gold and his food was very delicious. Nevertheless, a gold cage was no match for a life of freedom in the woods. He pined for his subjects. Flying together with them in the air to far-off places was the life he desired; this would make him happier than being kept and fed in a gold cage. To get this freedom he had to find a trick. He would sham death and this he did one bright morning. He lay at the bottom of his cage, making no movement what-soever. The keeper thought he was dead. Hearing about the death of the beloved bird, the king was filled with sadness. He stood near the cage with tears running down his cheeks.

"Dear bird, I'll never hear your voice again," he whispered. Then he ordered a stately burial for the bird in the palace garden, which was full of beautiful flowers. However, when the bird was laid on the ground while the grave was being dug, all of a sudden he spread his wings and flew high into the sky, out of reach of all those present.

"Free!" shouted the parakeet king in joy, as he looked for his subjects in order to live happily ever after.