THE FISHEERMAN WHO CAUGHT THE SUN—Hawaii—1920
Source: Through Fairy Halls of My Book House, edited by Olive Beaupré Miller.
Published by The Bookhouse for Children, Chicago—Toronto, 1920.
(added Sunday, May 7, 2006)

Far across the blue Pacific Ocean, on the mountainous little island of Hawaii, a Hawaiian mother sat before a tiny straw-thatched hut and told her little children stories. Before her the great round sun was sinking toward the ocean. Out on the water were big boys in their queer-shaped canoes; others were swimming about, and some were riding the waves, standing up straight and balancing in a wonderful fashion on narrow boards that were carried landwards, rocking and rolling on the curling crests of the waves.

The younger children were all at home and grouped about their mother. They had decked themselves out gaily with garlands of flowers and long strings of colored seeds as they dearly loved to do, and, while they watched the setting sun, their mother told them, in the soft, musical Hawaiian tongue, an old Hawaiian tale:

"Many, many years ago, the Sun used to burst forth from the ocean at dawn and race so swiftly across the sky, that he would fling himself over the top of the great fire mountain and sink down again into the ocean before half a day's work was done. Sunset followed so quickly on sunrise that men began to complain: 'Alas! The Sun, in his headlong haste, is cheating us of our due. We have not daylight enough to finish our hunting and fishing, to build our canoes, and gather our yams and bananas and cocoanuts. Night comes on and finds our work but half done.'

"Then there rose up a brave Fisherman and he said: 'I shall go to the Sun and teach him to make his journey as he should. He shall no more bolt across the sky at any pace he may choose.'

"The Fisherman's friends began to wail and bid him remember what it meant to face such a powerful foe as the Sun. But the Fisherman never once stopped plaiting long ropes to make a snare, and he said: 'I do not fear the Sun. In this snare I shall catch him.'

"So when the Sun had run his mad race for the day and left the world to night, the Fisherman got into his canoe and sailed out into the Eastern ocean. Far he sailed and farther through the shadows, down the silvery path that the moon lit up across the dark waste of the waters. Thus he came to the very edge of the earth, to the spot where the Sun would soon burst forth when he rose from under the ocean. And there he set his snare, gripping tight in his hands the ends of the rope from which he had made it.

"Soon the moon set and the world was wrapped in darkness. Then the Fisherman sat in his rocking canoe on the edge of the world and waited. At last the darkness faded into gray; bright jewels of light flashed now and again from the ocean. Purple and rose appeared in the sky and lo! a small rim of the sun peeped up to touch the white crests of the waves into fire and set all the ocean aflame.

"Still the Fisherman sat in his rocking canoe on the edge of the world and waited. In another moment a flood of gold streamed over the earth and the whole great Sun burst forth to begin his wild race across the sky. But ah! he had bolted straight into the snare and was tangled close in its meshes. Then the Fisherman rose in his canoe and pulled tight the ropes in his hand. The great Sun raged! He flared and flamed, but the Fisherman held on fast.

"'Sun,' he cried, undaunted, 'from this day forth, you shall travel at proper speed. You shall no more do as you please and race at your own headlong pace across the sky. You shall give man a day that is long enough so he may finish his hunting and fishing, build his canoes and gather his yams and bananas and cocoanuts.'

"The rage of the Sun grew scorching, withering, blasting. He struggled with all his might to be free. But the Fisherman braced his feet, balanced his rocking canoe on the waves, and held to the ropes with a grip that would never, never yield. At last the Sun saw he had met his master. Then he slowly softened his glare and stood still.

"'I promise,' he said, 'I will race no more at my own headlong pace, but will travel at proper speed, slowly, steadily, over the sky.'

"When he had promised thus, the Fisherman set him free, but he did not remove from him all of the ropes. Some he left fastened securely at the edge of the world in order to bind him to keep his promise.

"'You shall never again be free to have your own will,' he said.

"Then the Fisherman went back home and his people hailed him with music and singing, as one who had been their savior, for ever thereafter the Sun kept his word and the days were sufficiently long for all the work that had need to be done.

"But to this very day when the Sun rises or when he sets, you may still see the ropes hanging down. Look now, as he sinks toward the ocean! You say he is drawing water, but I tell you those brilliant rays that seem to anchor him to the sea, are in truth the meshes of that snare by which the Fisherman bound him."
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(This web page created 5/7/06)