Of course his mother had to tell him, once again, “My son, this is not the noondah, eater of the people.”
After a good deal of argument, in which his mother’s persuasion, as usual, was of no avail, he went off again, going farther than ever, when he caught a giraffe; and when he had killed it he said: “Well, this time I’ve been successful. This must be the noondah.” So he dragged it home, singing,
“Oh, mother, I have killed
The noondah, eater of the people.”
Again his mother had to assure him, “My son, this is not the noondah, eater of the people.” She then pointed out to him that his brothers were not running about hunting for the noondah, but staying at home attending to their own business. But, remarking that all brothers were not alike, he expressed his determination to stick to his task until it came to a successful termination, and went off again, a still greater distance than before.
While going through the wilderness he espied a rhinoceros asleep under a tree, and turning to his attendants he exclaimed, “At last I see the noondah.”
“Where, master?” they all cried, eagerly.
“There, under the tree.”
“Oh-h! What shall we do?” they asked.
And he answered: “First of all, let us eat our fill, then we will attack it. We have found it in a good place, though if it kills us, we can’t help it.”