Then another day the Tuglay spoke to all the buso, “It is now my turn:  let me try whether I can cut your necks.”

After this speech, Tuglay stood up and took from his mouth the chewed betel-nut that is called isse, and made a motion as if he would rub the isse on the great Buso’s throat.  When the Buso saw the isse, he thought it was a sharp knife, and he was frightened.  All the lesser buso began to weep, fearing that their chief would be killed; for the isse appeared to all of them as a keen-bladed knife.  The tears of all the buso ran down like blood; they wept streams and streams of tears that all flowed together, forming a deep lake, red in color.

Then Tuglay rubbed the chewed betel on the great Buso’s throat.  One pass only he made with the isse, and the Buso’s head was severed from his body.  Both head and body of the mighty Buso rolled down into the great lake of tears, and were devoured by the crocodiles.

Now, the Tuglay was dressed like a poor man,—­in bark (bunut [70]) garments.  But as soon as he had slain the Buso, he struck a blow at his own legs, and the bark trousers fell off.  Then he stamped on the ground, and struck his body, and immediately his jacket and kerchief of bark fell off from him.  There he stood, no longer the poor Tuglay, but a Malaki T’oluk Waig, [71] with a gleaming kampilan in his hand.

Then he was ready to fight all the other buso.  First he held the kampilan in his left hand, and eight million buso fell down dead.  Then he held the kampilan in his right hand, and eight million more buso fell down dead.  After that, the Malaki went over to the house of Buso’s daughter, who had but one eye, and that in the middle of her forehead.  She shrieked with fear when she saw the Malaki coming; and he struck her with his kampilan, so that she too, the woman-buso, fell down dead.

After these exploits, the Malaki T’oluk Waig went on his way.  He climbed over the mountains of benati, [72] whose trees men go far to seek, and then he reached the mountains of barayung and balati wood.  From these peaks, exultant over his foes, he gave a good war-cry that re-echoed through the mountains, and went up to the ears of the gods.  Panguli’li and Salamia’wan [73] heard it from their home in the Shrine of the Sky (Tambara ka Langit), and they said, “Who chants the song of war (ig-sungal)?  Without doubt, it is the Malak T’oluk Waig, for none of all the other malaki could shout just like that.”

His duty performed, the Malaki left the ranges of balati and barayung, walked down toward the sea, and wandered along the coast until he neared a great gathering of people who had met for barter.  It was market-day, and all sorts of things were brought for trade.  Then the Malaki T’oluk Waig struck his legs and his chest, before the people caught sight of him; and immediately he was clothed in his old bark trousers and jacket and kerchief, just like a poor man.  Then he approached the crowd, and saw the people sitting on the ground in little groups, talking, and offering their things for sale.