In the middle of the night Father MacDonagh was dragged out of his hut by a furious mob of aborigines. Before he was even fully awake, he found himself tied to a stubby tree atop a pile of kindling. "Stop!" he shrieked at the aborigine leader, who was approaching with a flaming torch. "I'm your friend. Why are you doing this to me!?!" An evil leer on his face, the chief explained that a woman in their village had given birth to a mulatto child. "Since no other white man lives within ten day's walk, you must be the father. And you must die." Sweating profusely and thinking fast, Father MacDonagh beckoned the aborigine over with a wave of his head. "Do you remember the black lamb born to my flock of ewes last spring?" The chief nodded and the priest continued sagely, "Well, there aren't any black rams in this territory, are there?" The chief extinguished his torch, looked around carefully and said in a whisper, "OK, I keep your secret and you keep mine."