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There was once a man who owned a rich swampy rice field. Every year
he used to sacrifice a pig to the boundary _bonga_ before harvest;
but nevertheless the _bonga_ always reaped part of the crop. One year
when the rice was ripening the man used to go and look at it every
day. One evening after dusk as he was sitting quietly at the edge of
the field he overheard the _bonga_ and his wife talking. The _bonga_
said that he was going to pay a visit to some friends but his wife
begged him not to go because the rice was ripe and the farmer would
be cutting it almost at once. However the _bonga_ would not listen
to her advice and set off on his journey.

The farmer saw that there was no time to be lost and the very next
day he sacrificed the usual pig and reaped the whole of the crop. That
evening when work was over he stayed and listened to hear whether the
_bonga_ had come back, but all was quiet. The next day he threshed
the paddy and instead of twenty bushels as usual he found that he had
got sixty bushels of rice, That evening he again went to the field
and this time he found that the _bonga_ had returned and was having
a fine scolding from his wife, because he had let the farmer reap the
whole crop. "Take your silly pig and your silly plate of flour from the
sacrifice," screamed the _bonga's_ wife, throwing them at her spouse,
"that is all you have got; this is all because you would go away when
I told you not to do it; how could I reap the crop with the children
to look after? If you had stayed we might have got five _bandis_
of rice from that field."