The captain told the man at the bow to look after the gapu all night, and to put them directly in the water if they began to turn white (2). In the morning the captain asked if the gapu were all right, and, on receiving a satisfactory reply, the canoes put off, leaving some boys to look after the turtle.
The men went to the same fishing-ground, and again had good luck. On returning to Matu, they cut up the inferior turtle for supper, leaving the best to take back to Badu. Again the captain enjoined the man in the bow to look after the gapu, and he kept awake all night, mindful of his duty. The following morning they sailed to the same spot and caught a number of turtle, one canoe securing one of the turtle-shell variety. The fishers returned to Matu and put their captures on the sand-beach, all the fine ones being placed on their backs in a row with the turtle-shell turtle at one end; they then stuck a flag (dadu) (3), which they made, at each extremity of the row.
The Dorgai came and looked, and exclaimed, “By golly, no gammon, those men got plenty turtle!” That night the captain repeated his orders to the man at the bow concerning the gapu.
Next day they went to the same rocks, lowered their sails, and caught many turtle. Meanwhile, the boys left behind at Matu took a swim in the sea; by-and-bye their eyes were sore, and they returned to the shore and slept all in a row—the small boys in the middle and one big boy at each end. The Dorgai then came with a large basket on her back hanging from her forehead (4) and a small one on the top of it; on reaching the sleeping boys, she smothered them all with the mat which covered them, with the exception of the two big boys at the ends of the row. The latter watched the operations of the Dorgai, who took the small boys from beneath the mat and threw the bodies behind her, then replacing the basket-strings round her forehead (for during her murderous work she had relieved herself of the baskets), she put the boys in the basket and
