The villagers became afraid of traveling. If they had to go out, then they would not take any weapons with them, although that was risky as there were other dangers, such as wild animals, on the road.
One day, when Patih Senggilur and several other villagers were weaving mats out of strips of rattan by the side of the road, three men approached. With loud, rough voices, they challenged the villagers.
“We are the weapon traders! Who amongst you dares to fight us?”
Patih Senggilur remained calm. The villagers were silent too.
Angrily, the rogues repeated their challenge. “Hey! Who amongst you dares to fight us?”
The silence that greeted them made them even more furious. They had traveled far that morning and were very tired. Sweat poured down their faces.
Patih Senggilur calmly invited the men to sit down.
“Come, sit down. The sun is hot and you are exhausted. You have journeyed far today and you must be tired. I have some cucumbers and watermelons that will refresh you. When you have eaten your fill and you are refreshed, you may tell us why you have come here.”
There was no reply, and Patih Senggilur quietly returned to his work weaving the rattan mat while glancing cautiously from time to time at the rogues.
Hot, thirsty and hungry, the thieves were tempted by the cucumbers and watermelons offered to them. Hesitantly, they looked at each other. Patih Senggilur laughed to himself, then again offered the cucumbers and watermelons to them.
“Why do you hesitate? Come, eat! The cucumbers and watermelons will quench your thirst and satisfy your hunger. If you finish these, I will fetch more for you. I have many more inside. The cucumbers are from my own fields. Come, eat! Don’t be shy!”
Hearing this second offer, the thieves quickly rushed to grab the cucumbers and watermelons. They fought loudly with each other to see who could get the most and piled them up in front of themselves.
They took out their knives and daggers to slice the cucumbers, but were dismayed to find that their sharp knives and daggers could not cut through the cucumber skin. No matter how hard they tried, the cucumber skin would not peel off, nor could it be cut. They were so busy trying to cut the cucumbers that they were not aware that Patih Senggilur was casting glances at them.
He laughed silently, keeping his thoughts to himself, “Ha, ha, ha! Now you can see how it feels to be weak. I hope this is a good lesson for you. It seems that the power you show off to everyone else means nothing to me. You can’t even peel one ripe cucumber!”
Patih Senggilur pretended not to see the thieves as they struggled. They tried to chop and cut, and chop and cut, but the cucumbers remained whole. The sweat poured down their faces and bodies as they tried all of their weapons. Next they tried to cut up the watermelons but to no avail.
Finally, Patih Senggilur looked up.
“But why haven’t you eaten? I don’t have anything else to offer you. Please go ahead, eat them. Don’t be shy.”
The three thieves did not answer. They just looked at each other and then at Patih Senggilur. Patih Senggilur looked back at them.
“Alright, if you insist, I’ll cut them up for you.” He then took the small knife he used to shave the bamboo and rattan strips for making mats. He wiped it against the palm of his left hand three times, then began to cut up the cucumbers and watermelons. The knife moved easily and swiftly, like a hot knife through butter. In just a few seconds, the cucumbers and watermelons were cut into equal slices, placed on a plate, and presented to the amazed thieves.
“There, I have cut them up for you. Go ahead, eat them.”
The three thieves could do nothing except stare at each other and at the cucumbers and watermelons. They realized that they were in the presence of someone with great supernatural power, power far greater than theirs. They bowed their heads and without saying a word, turned and left the village. They learned humility in the presence of true strength.
The Woodcarver’s True Love
King Simbau, the king of the island of Simbau in the Sulawesi Sea, had a beautiful daughter. Her name was Sangiang Mapaele. The princess was not only beautiful, but she was also wise and kind.
Three princes from neighboring islands had proposed marriage to her. Many rich merchants also wished to marry the princess.
Her father, the king, was confused. Who should be his daughter’s husband? The king wanted to choose the best husband for his daughter. But how would he do this? He decided he would choose whoever loved the princess the most.
King Simbau then announced a contest. Whoever—nobleman or commoner—presented Princess Sangiang Mapaele with the most valuable gift as a sign of his love, would marry the princess. The announcement of the contest was spread far and wide throughout the island and the neighboring islands as well. Commoners did not dare to enter the contest. Who amongst them had anything of value for the king’s daughter? But Takatuliang, a poor woodsman, decided to try. For many years he had harbored a love for the princess deep in his heart. Now was his chance to express the love that had remained hidden for so long.
Takatuliang thought very long and hard. Finally, he went far into the forest. There, he chose a tree of the finest grain and cut it down. For days he labored without tiring, not even going home at night.
After several days, his elderly mother went in search of him in the forest. When she found him hunched over this work, she wiped the sweat from her son’s brow and asked, “Takatuliang, Takatuliang, what are you doing in this forest that is so important that you forgot to come home?”
Takatuliang answered, “I am working, Mother, for the king’s daughter.”
The next day, his mother returned to the forest and again asked, “Takatuliang, Takatuliang, what are you doing that is more important than returning home?”
Takatuliang answered, “I am working, Mother, to prove my love.”
His mother was shocked to hear this. Now she knew that he intended to propose marriage to the princess. Her heart ached.
“Takatuliang, oh Takatuliang, child of my heart! Come to your senses, my son. All you have is the skin on your bones!”
Takatuliang said, “That is why I am working. I am creating proof of my true love.”
The next day, his mother returned again. She watched her son as he bent over the piece of wood, shaping it carefully. His face was calm and focused on his work. Pearls of sweat formed on his forehead. Again, she spoke to him gently. “Takatuliang, you are breaking my heart. You are not in your right mind. Stop dreaming. You cannot win the princess. Your rank is so low, and hers is so high. Surely, you will be scorned.”
Takatuliang answered again, “Oh, Mother, suffering is only for those who do not exert any effort, for those who deny their God-given gifts. I have energy. I have talent. I have dreams.
And I have a love that can even change the fate of a man.”