to gain that which his soul desired. Then in the night a thought was born, and he lay waiting for the dawn to break that he might do what he had planned.
In the morning he arose, and called one of his wives, and bade her go with him to the gardens to weed the taro. This did she, and knew not what was in her husband's heart. But as she weeded, the man came to her, carrying ripe taro, which he bade her roast in the ashes of their fire. Now taro thus cooked is the food of those who mourn for the dead, and the woman wondered that her husband waited not to eat until the food was cooked in the pot at home. But she held her peace, and roasted the taro, as he desired. And when it was cooked, she lifted a piece from the fire that she might scrape off the ashes and charred rind. As she did thus a wagtail flew to the tree in the shade of which she sat, and lighted on a bough over her head. And he sang,—
"Takivim ke gibui!
Takivim ke gibui!"
("Scrape the food to be eaten with you!")
The woman hearkened to the song, and was much afraid, and cried to her husband, "Dost hear, lord? The bird is singing that I am to be eaten."
"Nay, woman," lied the man; "he doth but speak of the taro." And then, being hungry, he called, "Is the food ready for eating?"
"It is ready," answered his wife.
