The young warrior’s patu struck each man from the enemy tribe. One down... two down... three... down, until they all fell on him. But as he turned the chief of the other tribe rushed in and said “you will come with us and be our prisoner” just before he hit him with his patu. That was the last thing he heard and saw when he blacked out.
When he woke up he wondered where he was. There he lay on the dirty mucky ground with branches acting as bars blocking the entry to the pit. The bold warrior grabbed his patu and whacked the wood, again, again, again, until they broke like firewood getting chopped by a axe. He climbed and then ran out thirsty for water. He was going to get his revenge.
Later that night, he hid behind the Whare where the enemy tribes chief lay there asleep. He stared at him then as he lifted up his patu it became higher and higher until boosh. From that night on no one saw the chief alive again. The young Warrior sprinted back to his village and his tribe for his own safety. Everyone in the Good tribe celebrated and cheered.
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