The superstitious still have half an idea that Mafuie is down below Samoa somewhere; and that the earth has a long handle there, like a walking-stick, which Mafuie gives a shake now and then. It was common for them to say, when they felt the shock of an earthquake, "Thanks to Ti'iti'i, that Mafuie has only one arm: if he had two, what a shake he would give!" The natives of Savage Island, 300 miles to the south of Samoa, have a somewhat similar tale about the origin of fire. Instead of Talanga and Ti'iti'i, they give the names of Maui, the father, and Maui, the son. Instead of going through a rock, their entrance was down through a reed bush. And, instead of a _stipulation_ for the fire, they say that the youth Maui, like another Prometheus, _stole_ it, ran up the passage, and before his father could catch him, he had set the bush in flames in all directions. The father tried to put it out, but in vain; and they further add, that ever since the exploit of young Maui, they have had _fire_ and cooked food in Savage Island. 2. The Samoans have their stories of _a golden age_ of intelligence long long ago, when _all_ things material had the power of speech. They not only spoke, but they had evil natures as well, and quarrelled with each other and fought, very much like the races of mankind. We have already referred to the early battles of cosmogony, and to the wars of the rocks and fires and earth and stones. It was the same with the flora and fauna. Or to give it in their own words: "The small stones fought with the grass, the stones were beaten and the grass conquered. The short grass fought with the strong weedy grass, the short grass was beaten and the strong grass conquered. The strong grass fought with the long grass of the bush, the strong grass was beaten and the bush grass conquered. The bush grass fought with the trees, the grass was beaten and the trees conquered. The trees fought with the creepers, the trees were beaten and the creepers conquered--and then began the wars of men." Pity but the wars of _men_ had been as bloodless as those which preceded them! The principle seems to be that whenever one thing prevails to excess above another thing, or is in any way superior, be it rock, stone, earth, grass, or tree, we are sure to find some tradition of its battle and victory. The old poetic Samoan forefathers who framed these fabulous fights added a deal of circumstance and minuteness to their tales, and all was seriously believed by some of their more prosaic posterity.