Once upon a time, in a prosperous kingdom in South Kalimantan, there ruled a king named Sang Hiyang. He was known for his great appetite, particularly his love for fish intestines. No meal felt complete without them, and he demanded that the palace chef serve him a generous portion every day. If the dish was not prepared to his liking or the portion was too small, the king would fly into a terrible rage.
Fortunately, the chef had little trouble fulfilling the king’s request. A great river flowed near the palace, teeming with fish. Whenever she needed fresh ingredients, she simply sent the royal soldiers to catch more fish from its waters.
But one fateful day, trouble arose. The soldiers returned with only a handful of fish, their expressions uneasy. They explained that the fishing season had turned unfavorable, and the once-abundant river now yielded far fewer catches.
The chef’s heart pounded with worry. She knew how furious the king would be if his favorite dish was not prepared in its usual portion. With trembling hands, she quickly set to work, cutting and cleaning the fish that had been brought to her. Her mind raced with thoughts of the punishment she might face.
So preoccupied was she with fear that her grip slipped. In a moment of distraction, she lost control of the slippery fish intestines, and before she could react, they tumbled into the river. The current was swift and merciless—within seconds, the precious intestines were swept away, disappearing into the depths of the water.
The chef gasped in horror. The king’s favorite delicacy was gone, and there was no way to retrieve it. What would she do now?
The chef was utterly shocked. Her hands trembled as she sat down, overwhelmed by the disaster that had just unfolded. How could she possibly face the king without his beloved fish intestines? Desperate and afraid, she confided in her husband, explaining the situation in a panicked whisper.
Her husband, a resourceful man, pondered for a moment before an idea struck him. Without hesitation, he went outside and began digging into the soft earth. Carefully, he collected a large handful of plump, wriggling worms and brought them to his wife.
"Here," he said, placing them in front of her. "These worms look just like fish intestines. Cook them the same way, and the king won’t be able to tell the difference."
The chef recoiled at the thought. "I can't do that!" she protested, shaking her head. "It’s not right to deceive the king."
But her husband insisted. "If he doesn’t notice, then what harm is there? You’ll save yourself from his wrath, and he’ll still get the dish he loves."
Reluctantly, the chef gave in. She took a deep breath and forced herself to clean and cook the worms just as she would have prepared the fish intestines. When the dish was ready, she carefully plated it and presented it to the king, her heart pounding with anxiety.
King Sang Hiyang, completely unaware of the substitution, took his first bite. Instantly, his eyes lit up with delight. "This is incredible!" he exclaimed, savoring the rich, savory flavor. "The fish intestines taste even better than before!"
The chef stood frozen, forcing a nervous smile as the king devoured his meal. When he was finished, he called her forward. "From now on, you must always prepare my fish intestines exactly like this. I want this dish in large portions every day!"
The chef’s heart sank. What had started as a desperate solution had now turned into an even bigger problem. She knew the truth would eventually come out, and she couldn't bear the weight of her deception.
Gathering her courage, she knelt before the king and confessed everything. "Your Majesty, forgive me. I did not cook fish intestines today. What you just ate were worms."
Silence fell over the room. The chef braced herself for the king’s fury, expecting him to explode in rage. But instead of anger, King Sang Hiyang burst into laughter.
"Is that so?" he chuckled, rubbing his belly. "Well, whatever they are, they were delicious! From now on, I want worms instead of fish intestines. Make sure they’re served in large portions!"
The chef sighed in relief, though she still found the whole situation unbelievable. And so, from that day forward, King Sang Hiyang’s favorite dish was no longer fish intestines—but worms, cooked to perfection by his loyal palace chef.
Every day, the soldiers dug through the soil in search of worms. They overturned patches of earth, scouring every corner of the land to fulfill the king’s insatiable demand. At first, the worms were plentiful, and the soldiers had no trouble gathering them. But as time passed, the numbers began to dwindle. The once-thriving worm colonies were now nearly wiped out.
Deep beneath the earth, in the heart of the soil, the King of Worms grew restless. He watched with sorrow as his people vanished, taken away to satisfy the endless hunger of King Sang Hiyang. His sorrow soon turned to anger. "This cannot continue," he declared. "We must protect our kind!"
Summoning his loyal worm warriors, he commanded them to take action. "Go to the palace," he ordered, his voice echoing through the tunnels. "Make King Sang Hiyang pay for his greed!"
That night, as the moon hung high in the sky, an eerie silence fell over the kingdom. Then, from the ground, thousands of worms emerged, slithering toward the grand palace. Their numbers were vast, their movements swift yet silent.
The moment they reached the throne room, they surrounded King Sang Hiyang.
To the king’s horror, he could see them—an endless swarm of wriggling, creeping worms, their tiny bodies glistening under the dim torchlight. They climbed the steps toward him, their movements slow but relentless. Their eyes—dark and unblinking—stared into his soul.
But strangely, no one else could see them.
The guards, the advisors, the palace servants—they all stood still, watching their king with bewilderment. To them, he was reacting to something invisible, his face twisted in fear.
"The worms! The worms are coming for me!" King Sang Hiyang shrieked, stumbling back. His breathing was ragged, his body drenched in sweat.
"Your Majesty, are you feeling unwell?" one of his advisors asked, stepping forward cautiously.
But the king did not answer. Instead, he bolted from the palace, his royal robes billowing as he ran into the night. The worms followed, unseen by all but him.
He ran through the kingdom, past the market, past the river, past the villages—his terrified cries echoing through the land. But no matter how far he went, the worms were always behind him, creeping closer with every step.
Finally, exhausted and desperate, he stumbled upon a massive tree with sprawling branches and thick roots. With no other options, he scrambled up the trunk, climbing as high as he could. Below, the worms gathered, circling the tree like an army laying siege. They did not climb, they did not speak. They only waited.
Days passed. The sun rose and set, but the worms did not leave. Neither did the king.
Hungry, weak, and driven to madness, King Sang Hiyang sat on a branch, staring at the endless swarm below. His once-mighty reign had crumbled, his power reduced to nothing.
"I cannot escape," he whispered to himself. "I cannot rule. I cannot live like this."
Despair filled his heart. He tore a strip of cloth from his royal robes, fashioning it into a rope. With trembling hands, he tied it around a sturdy branch. His mind was made up.
By morning, the people of the kingdom discovered the shocking sight—King Sang Hiyang hanging lifeless from the great tree. Gasps and cries filled the air as they pointed at the tragic scene.
"Sang Hiyang tergantung! Sang Hiyang tergantung!" they murmured among themselves, their voices heavy with sorrow.
Over time, the place where the king met his fate became known as Sang Hiyang Tergantung—"Sang Hiyang is hung." As years passed and tongues reshaped the words, the name evolved, eventually becoming Siang Gantung, a region in Sungai Selatan, South Kalimantan.
And so, the tale of King Sang Hiyang and the wrath of the worms lived on, a warning against greed and the unseen forces of nature that balance the world.
Moral Messages
The story of The Greedy King and the Wrath of the Earth: The Legend of Siang Gantung carries several moral messages:
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Greed Leads to One’s Downfall – King Sang Hiyang’s excessive desire for his favorite food, even to the point of deception and overexploitation, ultimately led to his tragic fate. This teaches that unchecked greed can bring destruction.
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Respect for Nature and Balance – The story shows the consequences of overharvesting worms. When humans disrupt nature's balance, nature retaliates. It reminds us to use resources wisely and sustainably.
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Honesty is the Best Policy – The chef initially deceived the king, but in the end, she confessed the truth. While honesty may be difficult, it is always better than living in fear of being exposed.
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Actions Have Consequences – The king’s selfish actions angered the worm kingdom, leading to his downfall. This teaches that every action, especially those driven by greed, has consequences, whether seen or unseen.
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Power Does Not Guarantee Safety – Despite being a king, Sang Hiyang was powerless against nature’s revenge. This reminds us that power and status cannot protect us from the consequences of our misdeeds.
The story serves as both a cautionary tale and a legend explaining the origins of Siang Gantung in South Kalimantan.
