"That will I never do," said the Mouse. "I go now to the sugarcane patch, and will eat my fill there."
And thus did he. The Butterfly, left alone, searched until he found bananas which were ripe, and ate. But while he ate, he heard a cry from afar, "Kaidara kiki!"
"Surely that is the voice of my friend," said he in his heart, and, tarrying not, he left his meal to seek for the Mouse, whose voice had called him.
Now this is what had befallen the Mouse. He had found a large patch of sugarcane, and had begun to bite the tough stalks and to suck out the sweet juice. So was his heart gladdened, but at last he bit through a stalk of heavy cane, which fell on him and crushed him. It was his death-cry his friend had heard. The Butterfly found the Mouse lying dead on the ground, and could now only make him ready for burial. This he did by plucking a taro leaf, and wrapping his friend in it. Then he set forth for the burial ground, bearing the Mouse.
He soon reached the gardens where the birds grew their food. Some small Finches were turning over the ground, and looked up as the Butterfly drew near. "What hast thou there?" said they.
"Nought for which ye would care," said the Butterfly, and he passed on. But he had not gone far ere he reached the place where the Wagtails were digging. Then did they ask the same question, and the Butterfly gave the same answer, and went on.
