The fire-god, now in a miserable plight, was allowed to breathe awhile. Māni said: “Only on one condition will I spare you--tell me the secret of fire. Where is it hidden? How is it produced?” Manike gladly promised to tell him all he knew, and led him inside his wonderful dwelling. In one corner there was a quantity of fine cocoanut-fibre; in another, bundles of fire-yielding sticks--the “_au_,” the “oronga,” the “_tauinu_,” and particularly the “_aoa_,” or banyan tree. These sticks were all dry and ready for use. In the middle of the room were two smaller sticks by themselves. One of these the fire-god gave to Māni, desiring him to hold it firmly, while he himself plied the other most vigorously, uttering as he did it the following song: THE FIRE-GOD’S SONG. Grant, oh, grant me thy hidden fire, Thou banyan tree! Perform an incantation; Utter a prayer to (the spirit of) The banyan tree! Kindle a fire for Manike Of the dust of the banyan tree! By the time this song was completed Māni, to his great joy, perceived a faint smoke arising out of the fine dust produced by the friction of one stick upon another. As they persevered in their work the smoke increased, and, favored with the fire-god’s breath, a slight flame arose, when the fine cocoanut fibre was called into requisition, to catch and increase the flame. Manike now called to his aid the different bundles of sticks, and speedily got up a blazing fire, to the astonishment and great delight of Māni. The grand secret of fire was thus secured. But the victor resolved to be revenged for his trouble and his tossing in the air, by setting fire to his fallen adversary’s abode. In a short time all nether-world was in flames, which consumed the fire-god and all he possessed. Even the rocks cracked and split with the heat; hence the ancient saying in that land, “The rocks of Orovaru (in the shades) are burning.” Ere leaving the land of ghosts, Māni carefully picked up the two fire-sticks, once the property of Manike, and hastened to the bread-fruit tree, where the red pigeon, “Fearless,” quietly awaited his return. His first care was to restore the tail of the bird, so as to avoid the anger of Tane. There was no time to be lost, for the flames were rapidly spreading. He re-entered the pigeon, which carried his fire-sticks one in each claw, and flew to the lower entrance of the chasm. Once more pronouncing the words he learnt from Buataranga, the rocks parted, and he safely got back to this upper world. Through the good offices of his mother, the pigeon met with no opposition from the fierce guardians of the road to the shades. On again entering into light the red pigeon took a long sweep, alighting, eventually, in a lovely, secluded valley, which was thenceforth named Rupe-tau, or _the pigeon’s resting-place_. Māni now resumed his original human form, and hastened to carry back the pet bird to his friend, Tane.