One of them, some time ago, had been to the coast, and knew Rua; his joy
at now seeing him in here was great. A shot had been fired at a cockatoo
before they heard the shouting, and they were much afraid. When all
seemed satisfied, and the crust of the news broken, I proposed a start,
so up bundles, and away we went. When having gone about two miles, there
was a halt in an open space, and we were given to understand we must camp
there. I could not agree to it, "We must go on to the village." "No,
you must stay here."
"We cannot; we must go on."
"If you go on you will be devoured by the _boroma badababa_ (great pig)."
I insisted upon going on; they called to those in the village, and on
being answered we again went on for about half a mile, when every bundle
was put down and a halt called, and again we had to listen to the
unintelligible story of the wild animal or animals that would destroy us.
We sat down and tried to get them to see as we did, that a house was
necessary for our comfort.
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