“Yes, I should.”
“Come, then;” and, giving me his hand, he led me, attended by an armed crowd, to every house, on the verandahs of which I deposited a packet of beads.
He was the chief, and was named Gidage. When going round he said—
“You are no longer Tamate, you are Gidage.”
“Right, my friend; you are no longer Gidage, you are Tamate.”
I gave him an extra present, and he gave me a return one, saying, “Gidage, we are friends; stay, and I, Tamate, will kill you a pig.”
“No, Tamate. Gidage must go; but hopes to re-return, and will then eat Tamate’s pig.”
“No, stay now; we are friends, and you must be fed!”
“No, I cannot stay; but when I return, then pig-eating”—not a very pleasant employment when, other things can be had.
Pigs are very valuable animals here, and much thought of, and only true friends can be regaled with them. The women nurse the pig. I have seen a woman suckling a child at one breast and a small pig at the other; that was at South Cape. I have seen it also at Hula and Aroma. Proceeding to the beach, we parted, old and well-known friends.