During the long, dry days the people had acquired the habit of chewing betel, to reduce the thirst in their parched mouths. Now they went home and quickly returned with all the betel they possessed, though knowing they would have to go without it for many days. Having taken the offerings of the people, the Moon collected all the mist banks in the night sky and built a huge wall, so high that all the cheerful stars could hide behind it. Then, the Moon put the betel in her mouth and began chewing it, spitting frequently and scattering the blood-red juice all over the sky, while her mouth and chin became red. When she was ready to disappear, the whole horizon looked as red as if an ocean of blood had flowed past. Just then the suns rose, first the father and after him his eight sons. Surprised to see the redness of the sky, Father Sun addressed the Moon.

"It seems that a massacre has taken place here. How many were killed?"

"A massacre indeed," grinned the Moon, letting the red juice run freely from her mouth as if remembering an exceptional enjoyment. "I ate all my children, the stars."

"You ate your children? I noticed there were no stars. How did they taste?"

"Wonderful, delicious," grinned the Moon, leaking more juice. "Why don't you follow my example? Yours are much bigger."

Murderous hunger raged in the old Sun's mind. He opened his fiery mouth and devoured his sons, one after the other.

Since that day there has been only one Sun, enlarged and intensified by the strength of his sons. Burning with rage, regret, and greed, he still scorches the earth but alone. The next night the stars came out again, and soon the Sun discovered that the Moon had lied and tempted him to eat his children.

So it is, the Batak people say, that the sun chases the moon and the moon travels away from the sun, appearing a little more distant from the sun every evening. But in the end the sun overtakes it and reduces it. Then the moon hides for a few nights, during which the people pray to the gods: "Please do not let the sun win. We cannot live without the moon. Do not permit the sun to devour the moon as well!"

Fortunately the moon always reappears, thin but growing.

In the Batak lands there is a great lake. Grayness spreads with the quickly multiplying clouds, and the foamy rush of the waterfalls is joined by the ugly spatter of the froth-topped waves, which are whipped by the wind. On such days the Lake of the Gods demands sacrifices.

Many centuries ago there was no lake there, just a broad, fertile plain, neatly divided into well-kept rice fields. Through this lovely scenery there flowed a great river. One day, in that remote century, a young man was fishing in the river. As the hours went by without even one bite, he was beginning to wonder if the fish had been bewitched.

Suddenly, as he was becoming sleepy, the line almost jerked him out of his boat. At once he awoke and began hauling in his catch. The boat swayed as he pulled the fish on board. It was almost as heavy as he was. Triumphant, he rowed home, lifted the fish out of the boat, and put it on the floor of his shed. Then he went to his kitchen for a little rice, as he had taken no food that day.

As soon as he had finished he went back to admire his catch. The fish was gone. Dazed in the darkness, the young man slowly realized that someone was in the corner. He went closer, and to his surprise, he saw a woman, trying to cover her shapely body with her long, flowing hair.

Terrified, the young man made for the door, but before he reached it, the young woman began to speak. "Help me! Bring me a sarong and a kain (bodice) so that I can dress myself properly and go out. Have you no pity?"

The man ran from his hut. His mother had died recently, and in her chest he found the clothes she had once worn. He took out the best sarong he could find and a bodice. Then he went back to his shed. The young woman was still there. She took the clothes from him, dressed quickly, and tied her hair up in a knot. The man watched in silence. When she was ready he led her to his hut. There they sat down and, without being asked, the woman began telling him her strange story.