The man said: “Make some more milk, my bird.”
The bird did so. The man sent his wife for a milk basket. When she brought it, the bird filled it with milk.
The man was very much pleased. He said: “This pretty bird of mine is better than a cow.”
He took it home and put it in a jar. After that he used to rise even in the night and tell the bird to make milk for him. Only he and his wife drank of it. The children continued to drink of the milk of the tree. The names of the children were Gingci, the first-born son; Lonci, his brother; and Dumangashe, his sister. That man then got very fat indeed, so that his skin became shining. [[33]]
The girl said to her brother Gingci: “Why does father get fat and we remain so thin?”
He replied: “I do not know. Perhaps he eats in the night.”
They made a plan to watch. They saw him rise in the middle of the night. He went to the big jar and took an eating mat off it. He said: “Make milk, my bird.” He drank much. Again he said: “Make milk, my bird,” and again he drank till he was very full. Then he lay down and went to sleep.
The next day the woman went to work in her garden, and the man went to visit his friend. The children remained at home, but not in the house. Their father fastened the door of the house, and told them not to enter it on any account till his return.
Gingci said: “To-day we will drink of the milk that makes father fat and shining; we will not drink of the milk of the euphorbia to-day.”
The girl said: “As for me, I also say let us drink of father’s milk to-day.”