Although the Millanows do not preserve the heads of their enemies, a young warrior will occasionally bear home such a trophy with the same sort of pleasure with which a young fox hunter takes home his first brush. On this occasion, a juvenile aspirant to love and glory, who had accompanied the expedition and wished to display a prize he had won, was met on landing by the women, who had already spied the relic from their elevated platform on the bank. They descended to meet it with a stick in each hand, and began to play on the unfortunate head, as if it had been a tomtom. After this performance, each in turn rushed into the river, as if to cleanse herself from the pollution. Although these gentle creatures did not strike with any violence, it was as much as the young hero could do to prevent his trophy from being pommeled into a jelly.1

1Keppel, H.n/an/an/an/an/a, , 171.