A Story of the Orphan Girl

(Subanon)

There was once an orphan girl. One day, she was surprised at noontime with a great drowsiness.
She wondered at this sleepiness, but not being able to resist it, she folded up her sewing and, stretching
herself out on a mat, feel asleep. As she slept she dreamed. A beautiful woman came to her and said,
“Formerly, the place where you live was full of people, instead of uninhabited save by you, as at present.
But one day, the Manamat came and devoured them all, save you, and they are coming again to get you.
So on the third day front now, leave this place lest you be devoured also.

On awakening, the orphan girl wondered at the dream, but did no act upon it. “After all,” she said,
“it was only a dream,” So she remained where she was. At dawn of the third day a huge spider
approached her and said: “I understand that you were warned in a dream to leave this place. Why you
have not done so?” The orphan girl replied, “There are two reasons why I have not left this place; first,
because her warning was merely a dream, and second, because where my father and mother have died it
is fitting that I should die also.” But the spider reproved her and told her to leave at once, “for,” he said,
“the manamat are at this moment on the way hither to devour you.”

So the orphan girl went into her room and put on her best clothes, and weeping at the
remembrances of her father and mother she went down the notched log to join the great spider. The
spider and she went on till they came to a well. They had no sooner reached the well than they heard a
great noise of people in the house they had just left.
“I shall remain here,” said the spider, “while you had better flee this way pointing out a direction to
the orphan girl. So she fled up the path he had pointed out, for she was now filled with terror. She had
scarcely disappeared when three persons came running up the well. They wore black breeches that
reached only to the knees, and black jackets, while on their heads they wore black kerchiefs.
Their chins were bearded and their eyes were red. “What are you seeking?” asked the spider, “You are in
haste.” We are seeking the orphan girl,” replied one of the three, “but why do you ask? You must have
seen her.”
“We smell her recent present here; “but where she went or we kill you. “Then the spider pointing
one of his crooked legs, said, “She went this way.” Now the spider wished to give the orphan girl a start
over the manamat, so he did not straighten out his leg when he pointed, thus the manamat were led
astray.
Soon they came running back, saying, “We can not see the tracks; we have also lot her scent. Tell
us the truth.” So the spider held out a second crooked as before. The manamat dashed off again, but
soon came back with the same complaint. After the fourth false start one of the manamat lifted up his stick
to kill the spider. So the spider straightened out his last remaining legs and showed the right direction.
Then the manamat rushed off again, and this time they could follow the scent and the footprints. Finally
they caught sight of the orphan girl who had reached the ridge of a mountain; but she looking back also
caught a glimpse of the manamat and when they reached the top of the ridge, she was in the valley on the
other side.
Finally, in the middle of the afternoon of the second day, she saw a little hut. In front of the hut was
a young man, a servant who was cooking rice. She was so exhausted that she staggered and fell on the
floor and fell asleep without saying a word.
Meantime, the youth saw a multitude approaching, three persons being in front of the rest. He also noted
one person of gigantic size. This was Gunluh, chief of all the manamata. Now it happened that the hut was
a hunting lodge of the widow’s son.
His serving man told him what he had seen and seized a spear. The widow’s son took no weapon, but
came out with bare hands. On one of the manamat arriving at the hut, the widow’s son asked what was
wanted.

“We are pursuing the orphan girl in order to eat her,” he replied “but since we have to encounter
you two men, so much the better we shall now have three persons to devour instead of one.
“One of the manta tired to seized the widow’s son by the waist, but receiving a great blow from his arm
went a head over heels into the air, ‘stuck a stone on falling to the ground and so was killed. Another tried
to seize him by the leg but receiving a powerful kick was likewise killed.
So the fight went on between the serving man and the widow’s son on one side and the manamat
on the other, until all the latter were killed, save the chief, the Gunluh, whose name was Makayaga.
This giant raised his club, the thick head of which was as large as calabash, to bring it down on the head
of the widow’s son; the latter dodging the blow, seized the giant, and pulling down a rattan together with
some of the several leaves and branches of the tree around which it clung, tied him hand and foot with
thorns and all.
Then Makayaga gave himself up as conquered and begged for his life. He offered to give
independence and acknowledge the widow’s son as his lord; to give up the custom of devouring human
being and to assist the widow’s son at any time he should be called upon. In addition, he offered his
conqueror a great pearl.

He offered to take the widow’s son to the cave where he and his manta dwelt and to turn over
everything to him. The widow’s son released him and gave his permission to return to his own place.
Then the widow’s son turned to the girl and asked whence she came and who her people were. The girl
told all she knew, and he asked her to follow him to the home of his mother, seeing that the girl was
orphan and her people had been devoured by the manamat.
So the girl lived for a time with his mother. The widow’s son was not of chieftainly descent, but his
head and heart were so good that the chief of the settlement had taken him into the government and the
older men never held a bitchar without the widow’s son sitting at their side.
Now the sultan of a neighboring region heard of the orphan girl, for she was very beautiful, with
straight eyebrows, and very skillful in all womanly arts, such as weaving. So he sent a representative to
the chief to ask her hand for his son. The chief receive the sultan’s representative to the chief to ask her
hand for his son.
The chief receive the sultan’s representative well, but said that although he was chief he had to
consult the widow’s son. So he sent a message to the latter on the subject. But the widow’s son refused to
let the girl go, saying that she might have relatives somewhere, and in that case it wouldn’t be right to
marry her off without consulting them.

When the messenger brought back this word to the sultan he was very angry, and sent a man to
bring the widow’s son by force, but on looking on him the man was afraid and came back without him.
“Coward!” exclaimed the sultan, and sent another man. But he back too returned without the widow’s son.
Meanwhile, the booming of a great gong came from the river’s mouth. The sultan himself had arrived and
a shareef from Mecca with him to witness the marriage. The sharer remained in his boat while the sultan
went to the chief’s house.
He had invited the shareef to the wedding, for being a sultan he did not think of even the possibility
to the girl being refused. When he heard of the state of things, he was angry, and sent men to bring the
widow’s son into his presence
The man wished to tie the widow’s son’s hands and feet and bring him by force, but the latter said,
“Leave me free and I will follow you of my own accord,” The sultan’s messenger said, “I am afraid you will
run away into the forest.”
Then the widow’s son was angry. “Never from my childhood up have I ever run away form anyone,”
he said. So the sultan’s messenger, fearing further trouble, left him free, and the widow’s son followed of
his own accord. When he had come into the presence of the sultan the latter like his fine, manly looks.
He wished to treat him kindly, but when the sultan began to talk of the marriage and asked the widow’s
son what he had to say, the latter said, “My mouth does not say a different thing each time. What I had to
say before, I say again.
The girl may have some relatives somewhere and I can not give her in marriage without consulting
them, although I recognize you as sultan. “Then the sultan was very angry and ordered him seized by one
of his men.
But on trying to seize the widow’s son his hand would not go around the latter’s wrists, nor his arms
around his waist. Then the sultan was furious. He ordered the widow’s son killed.
A man tired to bring down his kris, but it refused to descent. The widow’s son did nothing. The sultan
finally crying out that all his men were cowards, dew his own kris, saying “So you are greater than I, are
you?”
But on bringing down his own kris flew over the widow’s son’s head. A second attempt resulted the
same way.

Finally, the sultan in despair sent for the shareef. The sharer came, bringing with him his book.
Looking into the book he said it was not right to kill the widow’s son and that in case the sultan insisted on
killing him, he the shareef, would return to