Alan Jones 
insignificant or unattractive individuals can in 
reality be powerful spirits; their secret is that 
hey are capable of assuming the identity of 
supremely attractive and desirable human be- 
ings. 
The advantage of height is another. very 
widespread motif in New Guinea myths and 
folktales. In many tales, the hero himself de- 
fends his position atop a tall tree or mountain 
ar on a raised platform (sometimes there is a 
series of platforms and the hero leaps from one 
to the other). However, in other tales the hero’s 
antagonist takes refuge at the top of a mountain 
or tree. The antagonist may be some great 
predatory bird or a kind of mountain dwelling 
cannibal ogre or monster. Typically, a battle 
rages up and down the trunk of the tree or on 
the slopes of the mountain. Usually many at- 
tempts are made to dislodge the character that 
anjoys the advantage of height, and many as- 
piring heroes fail in their ambitious upward as- 
saults before some unlikely hero (or pair of 
heroes) appears on the scene to carry the day. 
The combat itself often involves blow and 
counterblow before the ascendant is laid low - 
is brought down to earth where he dies. In the 
Kuni tale reported here, the moon takes the 
place of the cannibal ogre in such tales. In Ap- 
pendix 2, I summarise a tale collected in an 
East Mekeo village in the 1980s, in which Foi 
or Eagle — he is what the Mekeo call a ‘raw- 
eater’ — is besieged in his tree-top ‘fortress’ by 
a succession of familiar birds. They are at- 
tempting to pay back Foi for eating Foe’s 
(Egret’s) mother. A number of birds fly up but 
cannot reach Eagle in his eyrie. However, fi- 
nally, two unlikely heroes — Dove and Gnat — 
succeed. They bring Eagle down to the ground 
where he is killed. 
L0.Many of the stories that were traditionally told 
in New Guinea and in wider Melanesia can be 
:egarded as allegories of the successful or un- 
successful usurpation of power, its abrogation 
from an established power-holder, and the use 
of that power for the benefit of the community 
or (as in the tale of Kolukolu and the moon) its 
wilful misuse. Tales of an ogre killing child 
which Chakravarti (1974) has shown are 
widespread across.the New Guinea area, are 
narrative representations of the usurpation of 
power by a wronged or impatient heir, typical- 
ly in Melanesian contexts the son of a heredi- 
tary chief. Typically in these tales, a pregnant 
woman is abandoned by those who could be 
axpected to care for her, her husband or her 
) 
brothers. There is often no apparent husband, 
Ihe begetter of her child. She bears a son who 
grows rapidly in strength and skill, and who 
benefits from his mother’s secret knowledge. 
The youth kills an ogre or monster, often a can- 
nibal giant, allowing villagers who had fled 
irom this menace to return to their homes. The 
youth is hailed as a hero, often receives a 
woman or women in marriage, and is often 
made a chief. This narrative trope refers to a 
!ype of socio-political process that Wagner 
(1986) has called “preemptive successorship” — 
ıhe pre-emptive assumption, real or ceremoni- 
al, of rank and position by a legitimate 
claimant. In the New Ireland society described 
by Wagner, “pre-emption” is thoroughly dra- 
matized, i.e. ritualised. However, another type 
of story tells of an illegitimate usurper whose 
misuse of power endangers the community, Or 
indeed (as in the present story) the entire earth. 
Etiology, Obviation and Renewal 
Etiological “explanations,” like those contained in 
many myths and folktales, begin with a wilful 
questioning of everyday reality, especially aspects 
of the natural world that stand out as arbitrary or 
unexpected. The tale of Kolukolu and the moon 
accounts for the generally flightless behaviour of 
‘he bird called Kolukolu and its propensity to take 
light when trodden on by hunters during the 
aight, as if wounded or hurt. This “explanation” 15 
given in the last lines of the recorded story, where 
it is revealed as the story’s ultimate point. It de- 
pends crucially on the initial questioning of why 
some particular phenomenon was ‘just so” — a 
questioning that can seem artfully contrived. 
However, the more general aspect of the world 
ihat is implicitly queried or questioned by the 
present story’s premise, and subsequently “eX- 
olained” by the unfolding events, is the fact that 
‘he light from the moon does not warm us — as 
does the light of the sun. The question of the 
sarth’s diurnal cycle is at the centre of a class of 
sastern Indonesian folktales (Schapper 2016; 
Forth 1992). In the eastern Indonesian tales, tWO 
birds engage in an oratorical competition that de- 
termines the present order of the world, including 
‘he “law” that night and day, moon and sun, must 
alternate within a twenty-four hour cycle (Forth 
1992). For the Kuni, the question appears to be - 
Why does the moon not ‘burn’ like the sun? 
Keen observation and interrogation of the natu- 
ral world results in the identification of phenome- 
Anthropos 114.2019