Forth he stepped; and took, and delayed the boy, by the hand; And vaunted the joys of meat and the ancient ways of the land: —“Our sires of old in Taiárapu, they that created the race, Ate ever with eager hand, nor regarded season or place, Ate in the boat at the oar, on the way afoot; and at night Arose in the midst of dreams to rummage the house for a bite. It is good for the youth in his turn to follow the way of the sire; And behold how fitting the time! for here do I cover my fire.” —“I see the fire for the cooking but never the meat to cook,” Said Támatéa.—“Tut!” said Rahéro. “Here in the brook And there in the tumbling sea, the fishes are thick as flies, Hungry like healthy men, and like pigs for savour and size: Crayfish crowding the river, sea-fish thronging the sea.” —“Well it may be,” says the other, “and yet be nothing to me. Fain would I eat, but alas! I have needful matter in hand, Since I carry my tribute of fish to the jealous king of the land.” Now at the word a light sprang in Rahéro’s eyes. “I will gain me a dinner,” thought he, “and lend the king a surprise.” And he took the lad by the arm, as they stood by the side of the track, And smiled, and rallied, and flattered, and pushed him forward and back. It was “You that sing like a bird, I never have heard you sing,” And “The lads when I was a lad were none so feared of a king. And of what account is an hour, when the heart is empty of guile? But come, and sit in the house and laugh with the women awhile; And I will but drop my hook, and behold! the dinner made.” So Támatéa the pliable hung up his fish in the shade On a tree by the side of the way; and Rahéro carried him in, Smiling as smiles the fowler when flutters the bird to the gin, And chose him a shining hook, {13} and viewed it with sedulous eye, And breathed and burnished it well on the brawn of his naked thigh, And set a mat for the gull, and bade him be merry and bide, Like a man concerned for his guest, and the fishing, and nothing beside. Now when Rahéro was forth, he paused and hearkened, and heard The gull jest in the house and the women laugh at his word; And stealthily crossed to the side of the way, to the shady place Where the basket hung on a mango; and craft transfigured his face. Deftly he opened the basket, and took of the fat of the fish, The cut of kings and chieftains, enough for a goodly dish. This he wrapped in a leaf, set on the fire to cook And buried; and next the marred remains of the tribute he took, And doubled and packed them well, and covered the basket close —“There is a buffet, my king,” quoth he, “and a nauseous dose!”— And hung the basket again in the shade, in a cloud of flies —“And there is a sauce to your dinner, king of the crafty eyes!”