reely; their thick lips began to grin and their hands were
involuntarily stretched out towards the charming phenomenon.

"Oh! Yancig! Yancig! Yancig!"

Nevertheless, Stas, who was watching everything with the closest
possible attention, observed that one of the negroes, wearing a pointed
cap of rats' skin, slunk away from the ranks immediately after Kali's
last words and, crawling like a snake in the grass, turned to an
isolated hut standing apart, beyond the enclosure, but surrounded
likewise by a high stockade bound by climbing plants.

In the meantime the "Good Mzimu," though greatly embarrassed by the
role of a divinity, at Stas' request stretched out her little hand and
began to greet the negroes. The black warriors watched with joy in
their eyes each movement of that little hand, firmly believing it
possessed powerful "charms," which would protect them and secure them
against a multitude of disasters. Some, striking their breasts and
hips, said: "Oh, mother, now it will be well--for us and our cows."
M'Rua, now entirely emboldened, drew near the elephant and prostrated
himself once more before the "Good Mzimu" and after that, bowing to
Stas, spoke in the following manner:

"Would the great master, who leads the white divinity on the elephant,
be pleased to eat a small piece of M'Rua, and would he consent that
M'Rua should eat a small piece of him, in order that they should become
brothers, among whom there is no falsehood and treachery?"

Kali at once translated these words, but perceiving from Stas'
countenance that he did not have the slightest desire to eat a small
piece of M'Rua, turned to the old negro and said:

"Oh, M'Rua! Do you really think that the white master, whom the
elephant fears, who holds thunderbolts in his hands, who kills lions,
to whom the 'wobo' wags its tail, who lets loose fiery snakes and
crushes rocks, could form a blood brotherhood with a mere king?
Reflect, oh, M'Rua, whether the Great Spirit would not punish you for
your audacity, and whether it is not enough of glory for you if you eat
a small piece of Kali, the son of Fumba, the ruler of the Wahimas, and
if Kali, the son of Fumba, eats a small piece of you?"

"Are you not a slave?" M'Rua asked.

"The great master did not seize Kali, neither did he buy him; he only
saved his life; therefore Kali is conducting the 'Good Mzimu' and the
master to the country of the Wahimas in order that the Wahimas and
Fumba should pay honors t