But Aponibolinayen could not eat the liver any more than she could the fruit or the fish eggs; and when Aponitolau heard the dogs barking, he knew that she had thrown it away. Then he grew suspicious and, changing himself into a centipede,[32] hid in a crack in the floor. And when his wife again wished for some of the oranges, he overheard her.
“Why did you not tell me the truth, Aponibolinayen?” he asked.
“Because,” she replied, “no one Who has gone to Adasen has ever come back, and I did not want you to risk your life.”
Nevertheless Aponitolau determined to go for the oranges, and he commanded his wife to bring him rice straw. After he had burned it he put the ashes in the water with which he washed his hair.[33] Then she brought cocoanut oil and rubbed his hair, and fetched a dark clout, a fancy belt, and a head-band, and she baked cakes for him to take on the journey. Aponitolau cut a vine[34] which he planted by the stove,[35] and told his wife that if the leaves wilted she would know that he was dead. Then he took his spear and head-ax[36] and started on the long journey.
When Aponitolau arrived at the well of a giantess, all the betel-nut trees bowed. Then the giantess shouted and all the world trembled. “How strange,” thought Aponitolau, “that all the world shakes when that woman shouts.” But he continued on his way without stopping.
As he passed the place of the old woman, Alokotan, she sent out her little dog and it bit his leg.
“Do not proceed,” said the old woman, “for ill luck awaits you. If you go on, you will never return to your home.”
Sugar cane press
