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Updated: September 6, 2025
Bashti regarded Jerry quizzically, as if the matter were a joke, and shot a careless side glance to note the disappointment in his priest's eyes. Ah, ha, thought Bashti; I have fooled him. "Which is the high taboo?" Agno queried in the Somo tongue. "As you should ask. Of a surety, the megapode." "And the dog?" was Agno's next query. "Must pay for breaking the taboo. It is a high taboo.
Pangasinán Province. Agno River. Reception by the people. Every year Mr. Worcester makes a formal tour of inspection through the Mountain Province to note the progress of the trails and roads, to listen to complaints, to hear reports, devise ways and means of betterment and in general to see how the hillmen are getting on. The trip is long and hard, nor is it altogether free from danger.
Little as they believed in their trickery, he told them, he believed less. He knew taboo, and the truth behind taboo. He explained his personal taboos, and how they came to be. Never must he eat clam-meat, he told Agno. It was so selected by himself because he did not like clam-meat.
"But of life of man and life of woman," Agno qualified. "I know the law," Bashti held steadily on. "Somo made the law. Never has it been said that animal life may not buy animal life." "It has never been practised," was the devil devil doctor's fling. "And for reason enough," the old chief retorted. "Never before has a man been fool enough to give a pig for a dog.
He came as near to being spoiled as is possible for a dog. Himself taboo, he quickly learned to lord it over the Somo folk and to have his way and will in all matters. No one dared to dispute with him with stick or stone. Agno hated him he knew that; but also he gleaned the knowledge that Agno feared him and would not dare to hurt him.
And, since the taboo was essentially religious, to Agno was deputed the ecclesiastical task of guarding and cherishing and caring for the royal laying-yard. But Agno was no longer young. The acid bite of belly desire had long since deserted him, and he, too, ate from a sense of duty, all meat tasting alike to him. Megapode eggs only stung his taste alive and stimulated the flow of his juices.
Bashti demanded directly of Agno. "Me kai-kai along him," came the answer. "Him fat fella dog. Him good fella dog kai-kai." Into Bashti's alert old brain flashed an idea that had been long maturing. "Him good fella dog too much," he announced. "Better you eat 'm bush fella dog," he advised, pointing at wild-dog. Agno shook his head. "Bush fella dog no good kai-kai."
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