ating the morrow's betrothal of his only daughter to
Bu-lot, son of Mo-sar, the chief, whose great-grandfather had been king
of Pal-ul-don and who thought that he should be king, and Mo-sar was
drunk and so was Bu-lot, his son. For that matter nearly all of the
warriors, including the king himself, were drunk. In the heart of
Ko-tan was no love either for Mo-sar, or Bu-lot, nor did either of
these love the king. Ko-tan was giving his daughter to Bu-lot in the
hope that the alliance would prevent Mo-sar from insisting upon his
claims to the throne, for, next to Ja-don, Mo-sar was the most powerful
of the chiefs and while Ko-tan looked with fear upon Ja-don, too, he
had no fear that the old Lion-man would attempt to seize the throne,
though which way he would throw his influence and his warriors in the
event that Mo-sar declare war upon Ko-tan, the king could not guess.

Primitive people who are also warlike are seldom inclined toward either
tact or diplomacy even when sober; but drunk they know not the words,
if aroused. It was really Bu-lot who started it.

"This," he said, "I drink to O-lo-a," and he emptied his tankard at a
single gulp. "And this," seizing a full one from a neighbor, "to her
son and mine who will bring back the throne of Pal-ul-don to its
rightful owners!"

"The king is not yet dead!" cried Ko-tan, rising to his feet; "nor is
Bu-lot yet married to his daughter--and there is yet time to save
Pal-ul-don from the spawn of the rabbit breed."

The king's angry tone and his insulting reference to Bu-lot's
well-known cowardice brought a sudden, sobering silence upon the
roistering company. Every eye turned upon Bu-lot and Mo-sar, who sat
together directly opposite the king. The first was very drunk though
suddenly he seemed quite sober. He was so drunk that for an instant he
forgot to be a coward, since his reasoning powers were so effectually
paralyzed by the fumes of liquor that he could not intelligently weigh
the consequences of his acts. It is reasonably conceivable that a drunk
and angry rabbit might commit a rash deed. Upon no other hypothesis is
the thing that Bu-lot now did explicable. He rose suddenly from the
seat to which he had sunk after delivering his toast and seizing the
knife from the sheath of the warrior upon his right hurled it with
terrific force at Ko-tan. Skilled in the art of throwing both their
knives and their clubs are the warriors of Pal-ul-don and at this short
distance and