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He then in eloquent tones related to them what he called the real story, to which I listened in amazed wonder. "Many moons ago," he began, "we were dying of hunger! One day the Sun, our god, changed into a man, and he walked down that road." 'All your people are dying of hunger, said god. 'Yes, they are, the chief replied. 'Will you die instead of all the people? Nandeyara said.
As the Caingwas are sun-worshippers, I was surprised to see this, but Rocanandivia, with grave demeanor, told me that when Nandeyara departed from them he left behind him his representative.
My address was somewhat similar to the following: "Many moons ago, Nandeyara, looking down from his abode, saw that all the men and women and children in the world were bad; that is, they had done wrong things, such as . . . Now God has a Son, and to Him He said, Look down and see. All are doing wicked things! He looked and saw.
The priest heard of my decision with unfeigned joy, but the king and queen were sorrowful. While saddling our horses in the grey dawn, the wily priest came to me with a bundle, and, quietly drawing me aside, said that Nandeyara was inside, and in exchange for the bright rug I could take him away.
To my care on that occasion the reader is indebted for some of the illustrations in this volume. Nandeyara got another wash, but he had been wet before, and never complained! On the farther side of the river was a deserted house, and we could distinctly trace the heavy footprints of a tapir leading up the path and through the open doorway. We entered with caution. Was the beast in then? No.
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