the field, he saw the were-wolf make up to his wife, so out he rushed
and struck at him with a stick. Quick as thought, the were-wolf turned
himself into a leaf, but the man was as nimble, for he caught up the
leaf, thrust it into the joint of bamboo, in which he kept his tobacco,
and bunged it up tight. Then he walked back with his wife to the
village, carrying the bamboo with the werewolf in it. When they came to
the village, the human body of the were-wolf was still on the roof,
working away with the rest. The man put the bamboo in a fire. At that
the human were-wolf looked down from the roof and said, "Don't do that."
The man drew the bamboo from the fire, but a moment afterwards he put it
in the fire again, and again the human were-wolf on the roof looked down
and cried, "Don't do that." But this time the man kept the bamboo in the
fire, and when it blazed up, down fell the human were-wolf from the roof
as dead as a stone.[764] Again, the following story went round among the
Toradjas not so very many years ago. The thing happened at Soemara, on
the Gulf of Tomori. It was evening and some men sat chatting with a
certain Hadji Mohammad. When it had grown dark, one of the men went out
of the house for something or other. A little while afterwards one of
the company thought he saw a stag's antlers standing out sharp and clear
against the bright evening sky. So Hadji Mohammad raised his gun and
fired. A minute or two afterwards back comes the man who had gone out,
and says he to Hadji Mohammad, "You shot at me and hit me. You must pay
me a fine." They searched him but found no wound on him anywhere. Then
they knew that he was a were-wolf who had turned himself into a stag and
had healed the bullet-wound by licking it. However, the bullet had found
its billet, for two days afterwards he was a dead man.[765]

[Were-wolves in the Egyptian Sudan.]

In Sennar, a province of the Egyptian Sudan, the Hammeg and Fungi enjoy
the reputation of being powerful magicians who can turn themselves into
hyaenas and in that guise scour the country at night, howling and
gorging themselves. But by day they are men again. It is very dangerous
to shoot at such human hyaenas by night. On the Jebel Bela mountain a
soldier once shot at a hyaena and hit it, but it dragged itself off,
bleeding, in the darkness and escaped. Next morning he followed up the
trail of blood and it led him straight to the hut of a man who was
everywhere known for a wiza