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our dead leave us none knoweth whither they go, nor by much searching hath any man found the way to Ioloa, the land of the dead, save one, and of him will I tell thee.

This man lived in the hills where riseth the Uruam, the river which flows into the sea between Wamira and Divari. It came to pass that the man's wife died, and he mourned for her many days. But when it was time for the death feast to be made for her, he went forth with his dog to hunt for a cuscus that it might be eaten at the feast. (This tale doth my father tell, and I who have heard it tell it now to thee.)

Now a cuscus sleeps all day, but in the softness of the evening it comes forth to seek its food. Therefore, it was at this time that the man set out to hunt. In a little he had found one, which he killed, and having no one with him who might carry it, he hung it upon a tree and went on. Once more he found one, which also he killed and hung on a tree. Then he saw a third, and the dog ran after it to catch it. But the cuscus ran also, and went down a hole in the earth. Now it went to its home in Ioloa, for it belonged to the Dead.