garden, Alan's ears were greeted by a sound of shrill quarrelling.
Looking up he saw an extraordinary sight. A tall, gaunt, withered female
who might have been of any age between sixty and a hundred, had got
Jeekie's ear in one hand, and with the other was slapping him in the
face while she exclaimed:

"O thief, whom by the curse of Bonsa I brought into the world, what
have you done with my blanket? Was it not enough that you, my only
son, should leave me to earn my own living? Must you also take my best
blanket with you, for which reason I have been cold ever since. Where is
it, thief, where is it?"

"Worn out, my mother, worn out," he answered, trying to free himself.
"You forget, honourable mother, that I grow old and you should have been
dead years ago. How can you expect a blanket to last so long? Leave go
of my ear, beloved mother, and I will give you another. I have travelled
across the world to find you and I want to hear news of your husband."

"My husband, thief, which husband? Do you mean your father, the one with
the broken nose, who was sacrificed because you ran away with the white
man whom Bonsa loved? Well, you look out for him when you get into the
world of ghosts, for he said that he was going to wait for you there
with the biggest stick that he could find. Why I haven't thought of him
for years, but then I have had three other husbands since his time, bad
enough, but better than he was, so who would? And now Bonsa has got the
lot, and I have no children alive, and they say I am to be driven out of
the prison to starve next week as they won't feed me any longer, I who
can still work against any one of them, and--you've got my blanket, you
ugly old rascal," and collapsing beneath the weight of her recited woes,
the hag burst into a melancholy howl.

"Peace, my mother," said Jeekie, patting her on the head. "Do what I
tell you and you shall have more blankets than you can wear and, as you
are still so handsome, another husband too if you like, and a garden and
slaves to work for you and plenty to eat."

"How shall I get all these things, my son?" asked the old woman, looking
up. "Will you take me to your home and support me, or will that white
lord marry me? They told me that the Asika had named him as the Mungana,
and she is very jealous, the most jealous Asika that I have ever known."

"No, mother, he would like to, but he dare not, and I cannot support you
as I should wish, as here I have no hous