I brought home the bird, and made broth of it. Friday was much
struck to see me eat salt with it, and made a wry face; but I, in
my turn, took some that had no salt with it, and I made a wry
face at that. The next day I gave him a piece of kid's flesh,
which I had hung by a string in front of the fire to roast. My
plan was to put two poles, one on each side of the fire, and a
stick, on the top of them to hold the string. When my slave came
to taste the flesh, he took the best means to let me know how
good he thought it.

The next day I set him to beat out and sift some corn. I let him
see me make the bread, and he soon did all the work. I felt quite
a love for his true, warm heart, and he soon learnt to talk to
me. One day I said, "Do the men of your tribe win in fight?" He
told me, with a smile, that they did. "Well, then," said I, "How
came they to let their foes take you?"

"They run one, two, three, and make go in the boat that time."

"Well, and what do the men do with those they take?"

"Eat them all up."

This was not good news for me, but I went on, and said, "Where do
they take them?"

"Go to next place where they think."

"Do they come here?"