Instead of sitting around the fire, as the others all seem to be doing, Roth and Toth sit one on each side of Cheif Gobba's (as they started calling it) hole. Idly, they toss pebbles, stones, and branches into the deep pit, chuckling at the occassional bellow of anger from below.
Toth turns to Roth. "Had shoulda come 'long. He would have some right words to say 'bout this."
Roth grins. "Ya, like 'Cheif Gobba down a hole, hit it high, an hit it low. Cheif Gobba hollr' an shout all you wan' but never come out."
Toth, stunned, "Tha' was buetaful, Boma." He turns to the rest of the campers. "Hey! You fella's hear dat? My Boma's a pote! Ana'one else gots words to add ta the pome?"