"Muata turned on his heel straightway. He sought the trail of the
man-thieves. It was plain and level. It led through the forest, and
by night his jackal led him on the scent. By day he followed; by
night and day Muata went on the track to the river. At the river he
heard news. They had gone on the river towards the setting sun.

"Muata took a canoe from the river people, and with his jackal he
followed, while the sun rose and set many times, and he came to the
father of rivers.

"The waters were wide, and his canoe was like a leaf carried here
and there. His heart was sad, but the spirit of his mother
prevailed. He followed, and a man came to him saying that the yellow
men were near at hand, and sick of the sickness that shakes. Muata
gathered together his strength and pushed on. Ohe! and he fell into
the hands of his enemies like a child. He went among them sleeping,
and when he awoke his hands and limbs were bound.

"And the enemy mocked him, saying, 'Is this Muata?' saying, 'even
the ant will make him cry aloud;' and they smeared fat on him. They
shook the ants over him, and they bit deep. They reviled him, they
spat on him, as day by day he followed in the canoe tied to their
greater canoe. They made plans about him to kill him, but the chief
man said even a dog had his price. So they forebore to slay Muata,
but they carried him down the father of waters to where there was a
still greater canoe with wings. They put a gag into his mouth to
still his voice, but in the night the jackal bit through the rope,
and Muata was alone on the waters.