“Let me be your god of property.”
“No,” said Tui N’Kualita; “the tapa I got from the god Kadavu is good enough.”
“Well, then, let me be your god of navigation.”
“I’m a farmer. Breadfruit is enough for me.”
“Let me be your god of love, and you will enjoy all the women of Bega.”
“No, I’ve got enough women. I’m not a big chief. I’ll tell you: you be my gift to the orero.”
“Very well; and let me have another word. When you have a lot of ti at Sawau, we will go to cook it, and will appear safe and sound.”
Next morning Tui N’Kualita built a big oven. Tui Namoliwai appeared and signed to him to follow.
“Maybe you are fooling me, and will kill me,” said Tui N’Kualita.
“What? Am I going to give you death in exchange for my life? Come!”