ran for their spears, and surrounded the garden. The Wallaby lifted up his head and seeing nought but enemies round about him, tarried not but leaped mightily and escaped. The Turtle could not jump, as he well knew, so he crawled with haste into a yam patch and hid himself under the leaves.
But the birds knew he was still there, and they hunted for him diligently and at last found him and dragged him forth. The Turtle feared greatly, and cried, "Take not vengeance on me, for truly the Wallaby bade me come hither and with his feet he broke the stalks, while I only ate of the fruit." The birds cared little for his words, and tied him to a pole and thus carried him to Binama's house, where they laid him upon a shelf till the morrow.
The next day Binama called his servants together and all went to dig food to make a feast when they should slay the Turtle. None were in the house but the children whom Binama had set to guard the captive. Then the Turtle made his voice soft, and called the children unto him. "Loosen my bonds. O children," quoth he, "that we may play together." Now the children knew not what was in the Turtle's mind, and they did as he bade them. He crawled down from the shelf, and stretched himself, for he was stiff and sore. Then he said to the children, "Where are your ornaments? Leave the poor ones in the basket, and bring forth only the good ones, that I may see them."
The children ran to the place where Binama kept
