The Dragon of the Ishtar Gate

XVI – The Land of the Eaters

South, south, south they wended. Three of the riding oxen died, but otherwise the company kept its health.

Myron found the Ptoemphani a trial. They were always shirking and quarreling, always finding a thousand excuses for putting off the start of the march in the morning and another thousand for ending it early in the afternoon. Then, having persuaded Bessas to let them stop before they dropped from exhaustion, as soon as the sun went down they began pounding a hollow log, clapping hands in rhythm, dancing, and singing at the tops of their lungs. This they would keep up for hours.

Myron, who liked a reasonable quiet in which to think and write, chafed with annoyance. But Bessas merely said:

"These oafs won't mind my whacking them now and then if I let them have their fun. You cannot run an expedition as if it were a lecture course." Then he went off to join the dance, whooping and capering with the best.

During this time, Myron moved like a man in a daze, for all he could think and talk about was his wonderful new theory of the shape of the earth. At last, during a noonday halt, Bessas said:

"O Myron, yours may indeed be the discovery of the age. But you are becoming as bad, in ever talking about your conceit, as you say I am about horses. Besides, it makes me dizzy to think of hanging head down from the bottom of the earth. So pray give that flapping tongue a rest. Set yourself, instead, to master the speech of the savages, in case some accident befall our sorcerous Syrian."

So Myron conversed with Merqetek, Ajang, and Yilthak, picking up smatterings of their languages and learning much about the men and beasts of this unknown land. For instance, he learnt to distinguish the two kinds of rhinoceros: the smaller and more dangerous kind, which browsed, and the larger, grazing kind, which merely blinked stupidly as the travelers passed.

"Have you ever heard of serpents big enough to swallow elephants, whereof they told us in Kush?" said Myron.

The interpreters laughed. "Nay," said Ajang. "In the Great Forest grow serpents big enough to engulf a man or a cow, but never big enough to swallow an elephant. You, master, have been swallowing lies."

"Then, save for venomous serpents, I do not see that the beasts of this land are greatly to be feared, for all their size and abundance, provided one exercises prudent caution and stays with one's comrades. I am more concerned with the men known as the Eaters, because I do not think I should enjoy being cut up and roasted by human beings any more than I should like being swallowed by a snake. It seems to me that we are headed towards the Eaters' country."

"Fear not," said Ajang. "We would not be eaten, either. Yonder"—he threw out an arm to westward—"lie the lands of the Eaters, many days' journey hence. Yonder"—he pointed southwest—"lies the Great Forest, where dwell little men no higher than your knee. Yonder"—he pointed south—"stand the Mountains of the Moon. Yonder"—he pointed southeast—"the River flows out of the lakes that lie at the foot of these mountains. And that way"—he jerked a thumb to the east—"dwell the Mattitae, with whom King Gau is at war. So, you see, you cannot really get lost. We can always find the River by marching eastward. Now, however, we shall march to the southeast, so that ..."

The Alab's voice died. On both sides of the safari stood a long line of spearmen, who had silently sprung from the shrubbery.

The march came to a stumbling halt. Some of the Ptoemphani dropped their loads and made as if to run. However, they found that they were surrounded by the newcomers. Moreover, Bessas, an arrow nocked, threatened to shoot the first man who ran.

The new Africans were men of ordinary stature, about that of Myron himself. They were of stocky, muscular build, very black, very flat of nose and full of lip. Unlike the naked tribes of the Astasobas, they wore kilts of goatskin or tree-bark cloth. They had the tails of cows and other beasts fastened to the backs of their skirts, and antelopes' horns affixed to their heads, which gave them a wild and fiendish look. They also bore well-made weapons of polished stone.

The thing that most struck Myron about these men was their discipline. In this respect they differed from the turbulent Anderae, the impulsive Alabi, and the unmannerly Ptoemphani. They stood like so many ebony statues until their officers told them to move.

A man wearing a mantle of black and white monkey fur stepped forward and spoke. Ajang presented Bessas to Ongosi, general of the great king, Ravonga son of Mbomu.

"Bessas!" said Myron. "In the name of Zeus, tell him you're a son of Xerxes!"

Bessas scowled at the lie but let himself he presented as a son of the Great King, on his way to pay his respects to King Ravonga.

"That is good," said Ongosi. "You shall come with us to our city of Ravonga. Our king, the stamp of whose foot causes mountains to crumble, will be pleased to see such outlandish creatures as yourselves."

The general smiled, showing a set of teeth filed to points. He barked an order, and the spearmen closed up around the travelers.

As he resumed his march, Myron cast a glance at Ajang. The Alabi interpreter's eyes bulged, his mouth hung slack, and he shambled along with drooping shoulders. The man looked terrified.

"What is the matter?" said Myron.

Ajang stuttered: "The-these are the Akulangba—the Eaters!"

"Oh!" Myron whistled. "I thought they dwelt several days' march to the west?"

"So did I!" wailed Ajang. "I do not understand how they come to dwell in this land. I know nothing!" The Alab began to blubber, as if he had lost whatever sense he possessed.

The country blazed with an intense, aggressive greenness. Huge trees were laden with flowers of flame red and flowers of gold. The sun beat down fiercely from high overhead, although the air was mild and springlike.

The city of Ravonga spread out over several low hills near a sluggish river. It was not a city in the sense in which Myron would have used the word. Rather, it was a royal stronghold surrounded by the scattered huts and garden patches of several thousand of King Ravonga's subjects. Myron was struck by the neatness and good order of these huts.

The king's compound stood on the largest of the hills, surrounded by a wooden stockade. Myron's eyes widened as they approached the stockade. Among the Astasobas, he had become used to seeing a few poles topped by skulls at the entrances to villages. King Ravonga, however, used these ominous objects as an artistic motif. Every alternate stake of the stockade bore a skull. There must have been over a thousand of them, all grinning outwards.

Ongosi pointed to a row of empty huts, explaining that these were for the use of the party. Ajang interpreted:

"He says: Get ready to visit the king. A man will come for you when the king is ready."

A guard of spearmen were posted around the huts. Myron and Bessas took one of the huts and spent a lively time chasing out the resident snakes, lizards, scorpions, centipedes, spiders, and huge red crickets, while listening to the horrified laments of the rest of the company. Their comrades' courage had vanished utterly on learning that they had fallen into the hands of the dreaded Eaters.

"We are lost!" wailed Zayd. "My lads fear not to face death, so that they have a good chance of decent burial. But they cannot bear the hideous fate that now confronts us!"

Bessas grunted. "What recks it whether you are eaten by worms or by other men? You're dead either way. The Derbikkai of Hyrkania get rid of their old people thus, and it always seemed sound sense to me."

Kothar, equally agitated, protested: "My lords, to scoffing skeptics like you—if you will pardon the expression—the fate of your bodies may seem of small moment. But to pious persons like myself and the shaykh, such a fate were worse than death. We know that our souls would be condemned to wander, homeless and comfortless, for aye, perchance to be enslaved by some wicked witch and forced to commit nameless abominations at his behest."

"Rubbish! Anyway, nobody has eaten us yet. We have escaped from worse coils, and we shall get out of this one whole. You shall see."

When the others had gone, Bessas and Myron clad themselves in their only remaining presentable tunics and got out gifts for King Ravonga. Bessas muttered:

"Would that I truly felt as confident as I sounded just now!"

"They haven't asked for tribute yet," said Myron.

"True, but it may be that Ravonga plans to devour us and possess himself of all we have. So why should he ask, when he knows he can take?"

When a page boy in a bark-cloth garment arrived, Bessas, Myron, Kothar, and Zayd set forth with Merqetek and Ajang. With a sinking sensation, Myron ducked through the low portal in the skull-decked stockade. They proceeded along an avenue lined with the huts of officials and nobles, whose women sat in front of the huts, pounding meal in wooden mortars with wooden pestles.

Screams came from ahead, where a man was lashed to a post. A small crowd had gathered to watch two other men mutilate the bound man, cutting him to pieces a little at a time. But when the travelers appeared, the crowd left the execution to gape at the strangers instead.

"Why is this man being tortured?" asked Myron. The page replied:

"He was convicted of adultery."

"Sink me in the Vourukasha Sea!" said Bessas. "We seem to have fallen among strait-laced folk. Zayd, warn your lads not to try to borrow any more women."

"I don't like this place," said Myron as they marched on up the hill.

At last they came to the square in front of the palace. This structure was, like King Gau's palace, a glorified thatched hut. But it was larger and grander; its woodwork was painted blood red.

"You stand here," said the page.

Spearmen stood around the square in rigid rows. A stool in front of the principal entrance served as a throne. Around the throne, a score of Akulangba squatted in long tree-bark robes. Other members of the court huddled in front of the lines of spearmen. A swarm of pages stood around, and to one side squatted a group of drummers.

Myron stood for, he thought, at least half an hour, shifting from foot to foot and ignoring the stares of several hundred pairs of eyes. At last a page stepped out of the palace, crying:

"Bwana mkubwa anaja! Nyamazani! Chini!"

All the Akulangba in the square threw themselves prone. So did Ajang and Merqetek. Myron, Kothar, and Zayd might have done likewise, but Bessas held out a hand.

"I have my own thoughts on this," he said. "Do not prostrate yourselves unless I tell you to."

King Ravonga, followed by another horde of attendants, walked out of his palace. He walked with a peculiar strut, swinging each leg stiffly out sidewise in a semicircle before setting it down before him. He halted in front of his stool and stared across the open space at the four whites. Bessas and his companions bowed low.

Ravonga was taller than most of his people and powerful, with a long face and large luminous eyes. He looked not over thirty.

At last the long silence broke; one of the minor notables sneezed. Instantly the king turned his head and spoke:

"Kumwua!"

Several spearmen pounced upon the offender and dragged him off. The drums struck up a rhythmic roar, almost drowning the cries of the doomed man. A brawny man, with a large hardwood club over his shoulder, strolled after the struggling group as they disappeared around the end of a fence that extended out from one wing of the palace. The victim's cries were cut off sharply; the drumming ceased.

The king resumed staring at his visitors. He spoke again: "Kwa nini hapana chini?"

"He says," muttered Ajang, lifting his face from the dirt, "why have you not prostrated yourselves?"

"Tell him," said Bessas, "that it were unseemly for the son and ambassador of the Great King to grovel before any other mortal, even a ruler. Natheless, I present my earnest respects."

More translation; then: "Who is this Great King? Is he the king of Kush?"

"Nay." Bessas tried to tell about the Persian Empire, though Myron feared that much of the explanation was not getting through.

"The king says: Have you brought him gifts?"

"Aye." Bessas nudged Merqetek with his foot. The Dankala jumped up, picked up the assortment of gifts, and followed the Bactrian as he strode forward. Bessas handed Ravonga a fistful of beads, some copper ornaments, and another Kushite sword.

When he examined the last gift, Ravonga broke into a broad smile, which showed his pointed teeth. He swished the blade through the air and asked:

"Naweza kata shingo?"

"The king would know if he can cut off a head with it," said Ajang.

"Aye, he can," said Bessas.

"Mzuri," said the king, and pointed to one of the older pages. The youth was dragged forward, screeching. He was forced down so that his neck lay across the king's stool. A spearman squatted in front of the stool, gripped the wool of the lad's head, and held him securely in place.

The king took his stance, swung the blade with both hands, and brought it down. The guard holding the youth's hair sat down as the head came off. Blood sprayed over him. Myron shut his eyes in horror.

The king spoke rapidly. Ajang said: "He says these are good gifts. He says your king must be almost as powerful as he himself is. He will see you again tomorrow."

The king turned and strolled back into his palace with that strange waddling gait.

Back in the huts, Myron drew a long breath. "Ye gods, Bessas, it's merely our good fortune that he did not test that sword on our necks instead of on one of his own people, after you stood up to him!"

"On the contrary, if we had groveled before him, he would have thought he might with impunity use us as he does his own folk. You have to take a firm stand with these barbarians." Bessas shrugged. "Of course, I might be wrong."

"You'd be wrong once only, old boy. In Hera's name, let's get away from this god-detested place! Xerxes may not be any god among men, but at least he does not kill people just for fun!"

"We must find out some things first. Ajang! Merqetek! Yilthak!" When the Africans came into the, hut, he commanded them: "Make friends with these spearmen who guard us, and learn what you can of King Ravonga and his ways. Whence came he? How long has the city been here? ..."

As the sun sank over the lush green landscape, a group of Akulangba came down the hill to the huts occupied by the travelers. They bore a trussed pig, a bunch of bananas, several gourds of banana wine, and a large wooden bowl full of millet porridge.

"Ajang! Merqetek!" shouted Bessas. When the interpreters came running, they translated:

"King Ravonga sends this food to his Mend, King Bessas, in return for the gifts he has received."

"So now I'm a king?" murmured Bessas.

"King Ravonga will speak with King Bessas on the morrow. Tomorrow, also, there shall be a feast in honor of Mboli. The Great King has declared this feast in gratitude to the god for sending him such an interesting friend."

"Tell King Ravonga we thank him and look forward to another meeting with him. Now then, my lads, tell me what you have learnt."

Ajang spoke: "We found two spearmen who were glad to talk. Know that the city of Ravonga has been here but nine years. The story of its founding is this: The main body of the Akulangba live, as we told you, several days' march to the west. Ten years ago, King Mbomu, who ruled that nation, died, leaving seventy-five sons; for, of course, King Mbomu had many wives.

"Now the eldest of these sons, Ngura, at once caused all his seventy-four brothers to be seized. And he held a great celebration at which these brothers were all burnt alive; all but one: Ravonga, who escaped the night before the burning by slaying the men set to guard him.

"For several moons, Ravonga lived as an outlaw. He thought to gather enough followers to overthrow his brother; but Ngura proved too strong and crafty for that. However, as the Akulangba found Ngura a hard and cruel ruler, many stole away to join Ravonga."

Myron said: "If Ngura be any cruder than Ravonga, he must be a monster indeed."

Ajang continued: "At length Ravonga's band reached such size that it could no longer support itself by raiding and robbery. So, following the advice of a wizard, he marched his followers, together with the women they had stolen, three days' march to the east. Here they found a small settlement of the Mbabantu, of whom they ate the men and children and took the women. Since then other fugitives from the tyranny of Ngura have come here, so that now Ravonga commands the strongest tribe for many days' march in any direction."

"What think these folk of Ravonga?"

"They worship him. They say he is the greatest king among the Akulangba for ten generations, since the divine Basenga, who was the son of the god Mboli."

"Why does he waddle?" Bessas imitated Ravonga's strut.

"He mimics the walk of the lion, to show his people that he has a lion's might and ferocity."

Myron turned to see another procession emerging from the royal stockade. Men walked in pairs, each pair carrying a corpse by wrists and ankles. They bore the man who had been haggled to death for adultery, and the youth whom the king had beheaded, and four others; two men and two women. These last four had all had their skulls bashed in.

"What happens yonder?" said Myron.

"Those," said Ajang, "are the people who have today displeased King Ravonga. Their bodies are thrown into the river for the crocodiles to eat. When the great king has time, he causes felons to be bound and thrown into the river alive. Then he and his court walk downstream, following the victims, until they reach the place where the crocodiles seize them and twist off their limbs by rolling over and over in the water."

"You are right, O Myron," said Bessas. "I am hardly a simpering milksop, but this place is too violent for me. If the gods will, we shall march on the morrow."

Before dawn, Myron awoke from a dream of earthquakes to find Ajang shaking him.

"Great chiefs!" cried Merqetek, waking Bessas. "The Ptoemphani are gone!"

Bessas leaped up with a roar. "Gone? What mean you, man?"

"They stole away during the night. All, even Yilthak, have vanished."

Myron yawned and rubbed his eyes. "No doubt they heard about the forthcoming feast. Knowing their hosts, they foresaw that they might be served up as the main course, so they decamped. Perhaps they were wiser than we."

"Know you what they did?" said Ajang. "They saved up their pombé, drinking none themselves, and plied the sentries with it until these oafs all went to sleep."

"Well, that spills the perfume into the soup!" snarled Bessas. "That means that when we leave here—"

"If we do," murmured Myron.

"—we shall have to carry such gear as we can take on our own backs. That leaves—let me see—eleven of us, counting the women and these black lads. We can carry no gifts to barbarian princes and only enough food for a few days. Nor do I think that old Zayd can endure this pace much longer."

A royal page put his head in at the door of the hut and spoke. Ajang said: "It is time to go to the king, my masters."

The sun was rising redly over the broken landscape of savanna patched with jungle, when King Ravonga issued from his palace. Again, Ravonga's subjects threw themselves flat in the dirt, while Bessas and his people bowed.

"The king asks if you have more presents for him."

Bessas produced more beads and bangles.

"The king knows that you have two women. The king wishes them as gifts, also."

Bessas and Myron exchanged glances. Bessas said: "Tell the king that these women are not in condition to give to such a great man as he. We must clean and deck them first." He added in an undertone to Myron: "This means we clear out as soon as we can."

"The king understands. He has also learnt that your porters all fled during the night."

"That is true."

"Then, says the king, since you will not be able to carry with you the other gifts you have brought, you might as well give them to him now."

"Tell His Majesty that we will do our best; but that some of these things we must keep to enable us to travel."

"Then, says the king, you must give him those oxen you brought with you, as otherwise there may not be enough meat to go round at the feast tonight."

"I gladly give the king these oxen. Now may I ask the king some questions?"

Bessas asked about the sirrush and was assured that no such creature dwelt near Ravogna. About the elephant-eating serpents he received the same reply. The king had heard of the demon-haunted stone castle on the edge of a lake at the foot of the Mountains of the Moon but could not add to what the explorers already knew.

"The king would like to show you his palace and grounds. Will you come with him?"

King Ravonga waddled back into the thatched palace. The explorers trailed after him, amid a buzz of translation: "... Here is the king's private retiring room ... Here is the shrine to Mboli, where he leads his wives and children in prayer ..."

They rambled into the women's section of the palace. A young woman, naked and apparently a little drunk, approached the king, giggling foolishly, The king barked for his executioner, who rushed up, threw a cord about the woman's neck, and dragged her off, wailing piteously.

Unmoved, King Ravonga continued his tour. He led his visitors out the rear entrance of the palace. Here a large area was devoted to many purposes connected with the palace. There were huts for the royal servants, the execution ground, the king's private vegetable garden, a playground for the royal children, and a huge pit with a low fence around it.

"What is this?" said Bessas. Myron, looking over the fence, felt another prickle of horror.

In the steaming sunlight lay seven human beings. All were alive, all were naked, and all had had one or both legs broken. Four were Negroes, three men and a woman, much like the Akulangba in physical type.

The remaining three were small men, about four feet in height and of a slightly lighter brown than the Akulangba. Myron thought that they were the ugliest little men he had seen, with their potbellies and scrawny limbs. Their wide mouths, receding chins, and button noses gave them a simian look. Seven pairs of eyelids rose and seven pairs of eyes looked dully up at the spectators.

"What are those people doing there?" inquired Bessas.

"The king says they are some foreigners whom his men have lately captured. They are being saved for tonight's feast."

Myron felt a surge of excitement. "Tell the king that I have heard of the Pygmies from afar, although I had expected them to be even smaller. The greatest poet of my people mentions them!"

"Oh?" said the king. "Does this poet mention me?"

"No."

The king frowned ominously. "Then he cannot be much of a poet."

Myron hastily said: "Tell His Majesty that this poet lived long ago, before our time."

"The king understands. He also says he fears the older two of the Tikki-Tikki are too scrawny and tough. The one with the gray hair is a chief, but that will make him no more toothsome." King Ravonga laughed heartily at his own humor.

Myron could not resist saying: "If the king executes so many of his subjects, why must he hunt abroad for human flesh?"

Bessas scowled a warning, but too late. When the question had been translated, King Ravonga's eyes widened with horror.

"The king says: Are you suggesting that we eat our fellow tribesmen? That were a bad thing to dot Do you eat your fellow tribesmen at home?"

"No. We do not eat men."

"The king says: King Bessas has told him what mighty warriors his Persians are, and what great wars they wage. If the dead are not eaten, then what is done with them?"

"Nought," said Bessas, "unless the victorious general can take the time to bury his fallen."

"The king says that you must indeed be a wicked folk, to wage war without a good reason!"

Bessas looked at Myron. "Do you know, old man, I never thought of it that way before? Tell the king he may well be right."

King Ravonga led them around to the front of the palace. "The king asks: Is the palace of your father, the Persian king, any larger or grander than mine?"

Bessas' face showed an inner struggle. Racial pride and his Bactrian bias towards truthfulness struggled with prudence. At last Myron spoke:

"Tell the king that it is hard to judge the relative sizes of two such buildings unless one can place them side by side. We invite him to come to Persepolis and compare palaces with his own eyes."

"The king says he would like to do that, though many hostile nations imperil the way. After the feast, when the sun has set, he asks that King Bessas join him in the palace to drink pombé. He may bring one interpreter."

The king swaggered off.

The travelers dined well, though some had been fearful lest they eat human flesh unawares. Myron snorted.

"I'll wager this is nothing but good old beef—and from one of our own oxen, at that. Besides, what if you did swallow a mouthful of man? The man is dead, so it cannot matter to him."

"You are a desperate rogue, O Myron," said Zayd, pulling his long gray beard with his bony hand. "We cannot all face these horrors so cold-bloodedly as you do."

Myron hid a smile. "Bessas, why did you give up the oxen so easily? They'd have been useful—"

"Because they are all down with this sickness they call nagana and so will soon be dead anyway." Bessas rose, wiping his mouth. "Now I must go to drink pombé with our kindly king."

"Don't forget what happened with General Pu—"

"Yes, teacher. Belike Kothar knows a spell against drunkenness; eh, sir wizard? If so, start mumbling!"

Bessas departed. Within and without the royal stockade, the Akulangba capered in endless dances to the tune of drums and reed flutes. The flutes played the same simple phrase over and over, while the drums emitted complex and ever-shifting rhythms.

Myron paced nervously. He cursed King Ravonga, who had not invited him to this evening's drinking bout so that he could keep an eye on Bessas. He cursed Bessas, who would probably try to drink down his host and end up in a snoring stupor. He cursed himself for getting into such a fix, and he cursed Phyllis for making him feel guilty about exposing her to such perils. Would it not be a fine irony, he thought, if the man who had made the greatest discovery of the age were chopped up and broiled to sate the hunger of savages?

Hours later, heavy breathing sounded outside. Bessas loomed in the doorway. The Bactrian stooped to enter, holding a large object cradled in his arm with his cloak wrapped around it. He spoke with quiet intensity:

"Merqetek, Ajang, stand in the doorway to block it! Look what I have!"

He unwrapped the object, which gave a groan. It was the oldest of the three Pygmies whom they had seen in the pit that morning.

"Divinity!" breathed Myron. "How did you ever get him?"

"I slipped out the back door of the palace whilst all the Akulangba were drunken, broke down the fence, and clambered down into the pit. They had taken all of those we saw but two Pygmies. I couldn't take both, so I chose the one most likely to be of use to us: the chief."

"What of the king?"

"Snoring soundly. He tried to drink me down. You need not look at me in that disapproving way. I chewed a fistful of kahawa berries, so it would take more than this wishy-washy banana juice to fuddle me. But I'm so full of pombe' that I splash inside as I walk.

"Now, barken! We leave tonight. Most of the Akulangba have fallen asleep, and our guards will do the same. I have seen to it that they, too, got a ration of pombé. We shan't be able to carry much, as we may be pursued. Let each of you go over his gear and take what is most essential; all weapons, for instance, but no tents, beads, or extra garments. Do not try to carry more than half a talent.

"Meanwhile, I shall set this little fellow's leg; I know enough field surgery for that. Fetch me some walking sticks to make a splint and straps to tie it fast with."

Dawn saw twelve figures hurrying across the meadows and through the groves of the land to the south of Ravonga. Small antelope bounded out of their way; large ones raised their heads to gaze in wonder. Grotesque wart hogs trotted off, their tails held stiffly erect. A lion trailed the company for a while but slunk away when Bessas roared at it and waved a spear.

All the company bore packs on their backs. Besides his pack, Bessas carried the Pygmy chieftain on his shoulders. The little man's broken leg was swollen and discolored under the crude splint. Nevertheless, though the jarring must have greatly pained him, he gave no sign of his feelings save an occasional grunt.

When the Pygmy learnt that he was not to be eaten, he became talkative. Besides his tribal tongue, he also spoke Mbabantu, the common speech of this region, so that Ajang and Merqetek could translate.

The Pygmy was Dzaka, chief of the eastern Tikki-Tikki. Ajang explained:

"He says: My band set up a hunting camp at a safe distance, they thought, from Ravonga. We went there because the Akulangba are unskillful hunters, and game is therefore plentiful in their land. But a war party of Akulangba found our camp and rushed us. I and two others tried to fight whilst the rest of the band fled into the bush, but the big men threw a net over us and caught us as if we had been so many bush pigs. They also caught one child, which they butchered and ate on the spot.

"Then they trussed us and carried us back to Ravonga, arriving two days ago. They broke one leg of each of us and threw us into that pit. Now, I am happy not to be eaten. But, if you do not mean to eat me, why then did you take me from the Akulangba?"

"Tell him a man cannot have too many friends in this wild country," said Bessas. "So we thought that if we res-cued him, he might do us some good. We need guidance to the place we are going, and belike he can persuade his fellow tribesmen to help us."

"He says he will surely do that. But he knows not whither the rest of his band have gone, and you will need help ere he can find them. For the Akulangba will pursue you with dogs, and he cannot talk to his people because the Akulangba would hear the sound."

"What means he, talk to his people?"

"With a drum."

Bessas and Myron questioned Dzaka about his band and his way of life. They were purely hunters, although they sometimes traded meat to the Mbabantu for vegetable foods and implements.

About the habits of animals, they discovered, Dzaka was a mine of sober, factual information. There were no sirrushes and no elephant-eating serpents, he assured them, at least within twenty or thirty leagues of where they were. He had roamed this entire country and knew it as well as he knew the palm of his hand.

And speaking of animals, said Dzaka, they had better make a detour to the left.

"Why?" said Bessas.

"Mbogo."

Myron peered through the long grass but could not see any buffalo. Then, as the marchers wound their way in the direction that Dzaka showed them, there was a huge black bull, standing with its muzzle up and staring at them from a hundred paces off. As the party drew away, the bull resumed its grazing.

"You see," Dzaka explained, "a single buffalo is more dangerous than a herd and should therefore be given ample room."

"Why is that?" asked Bessas.

"Because," replied the Pygmy, "if you run at a herd, shouting and waving your arms, they will nearly always run away. In a herd there is sure to be at least one cowardly animal, and when it runs the others run, too. But a single buffalo may not be a coward, and it can kill you if you annoy it."

Bessas asked: "What would you deem the most dangerous beast in this land?"

Dzaka thought awhile, then chuckled. "Guess," he said.

"The lion?"

"Nay."

"The elephant?"

"Nay ..."

When he had run through all the larger African animals that he knew of, Bessas gave up. "Well, what is it, then? Some monster that we have not yet met?"

"It is the nyuki."

"The what?"

Dzaka indicated a creature the length of a finger joint. "Bz-z-z-z! Bz-z-z-z!" he said, moving his index finger in circles. Then he touched himself and cried: "Eh! Eh!"

"I think he means a bee or wasp," said Myron.

"Bees?" said Bessas. "Aye, it might be. With all the other beasts, one can fight, bluff, run, hide, or climb, but none of these acts avails against a swarm of angry bees. Mithra grant that we stumble not upon such! Now tell me, Master Dzaka, where the Astasobas—the River as these folk call it—comes from."

When this had been translated, Dzaka said: Yes, the Astasobas did indeed flow out of a great lake, the Lutta Nzigé, or Shining Slayer of Locusts. Many other streams flowed into this lake and others in the region, so no man could say just where the Astasobas started, as the water from all these streams mingled into one.

"I see," said Myron. "We dispute over the question of where some river rises. But the question really means nothing, because a river rises in as many places as it has tributaries."

"Well, we can truthfully say we have been to the head-waters of the Nile," said Bessas, "even if we do not trace every tributary back to its source. Master Dzaka, have you heard of the stone castle of King Takarta?"

Yes, said Dzaka; he knew of the castle and its guardian demon. But the Tikki-Tikki had not looked into the matter, because they had no reason to- think they could slay the demon or, even if they could, that it would prove edible.

Bessas said: "A practical-minded race—Myron, my jravashi tells me we are followed. Now, I could run five leagues with this little fellow on my shoulders and not tire. But the shaykh and the girls are near exhaustion. So what in the seven Babylonian hells shall we do?"

"Keep on walking, I suppose," said Myron. "They haven't caught us yet. In fact, we don't even know that they are pursuing us."

"Let us hope—" began Bessas, but then Dzaka spoke:

"I hear the barking of dogs behind us."

Nobody else could hear the sound. They straggled on for another hour. Then Bessas said:

"I hear it, too. You were too quick with your hopes, O Myron."

Myron asked: "Could it be a pack of these piebald wild dogs that we have seen pursuing antelope?"

"Nay," said Dzaka. "Wild dogs do not bark like that."

When they climbed a rise, Bessas sent Merqetek up a tree to spy. The Dankala stood in a crotch, shading his eyes against the sun. At last he called down: "I see them, far away. There are at least a hundred, with dogs ... Now they are out of sight again."

"Come down," said Bessas. The Bactrian stamped and swore in a fury of frustration. "May worms eat their guts! May the Corpse Fiend gnaw their bones! May they all be kinless! If there were a few more of us, or less of them, or if we had horses, I would chance a fight. Or, in a barren mountainous land, like Gandara, it were easy to find some rocky point that a handful could hold against a multitude struggling up from below. In thick jungle, such as I have seen in Hind, one can ofttimes give the pursuer the slip, as by walking in a stream bed. But here ..." He helplessly waved towards the gently rolling, parklike landscape. "One can neither fight, nor hide, nor fly. By myself I could outrun them, but of this company only Ajang could keep up with me, and I cannot abandon my comrades."

"Would to Zeus that we had the Tower of the Snail here," said Myron. "That was an excellent fortress. How about Takarta's castle? How far is the Locust Killer?"

"Nine days' march," said Dzaka. Myron grunted.

"Could we climb trees?" asked Kothar.

"Certes," said Bessas, "until they shot us out of the branches or burnt the trees down. Keep marching!"

Another hour passed. Now all could hear the barking.

"Ere long," said Bessas grimly, "they will sight us. O Shaykh, shall we slay the women rather than let them fall into these devils' hands?"

"These women," said Salimat, "will die fighting beside their men, if you will give us weapons to fight with."

"You shall have your chance," said Bessas.

"If we could find a dense thicket," panted Shaykh Zayd, "we could creep in, and then they could come at us only a few at a time."

"They'd set the thicket afire," said Myron.

"But the plants hereabouts are wet from last night's rain. Perchance the trees would not burn."

"Could we hold them off by archery?" said Myron. "We outrange them, because I doubt if these unfeathered African arrows are accurate."

"We haven't enough arrows left," growled Bessas. "Keep marching!"

The barking came louder.

Dzaka said: "There is a stream in these parts. I had thought to see it long since."

"Couldn't we walk along the stream bed to throw the dogs off the scent?" said Myron.

"If they were not so close upon us, belike," said Bessas. "As it is, they would espy us at our wading."

As they topped the next rise, a chorus of yells, tiny with distance, broke out behind them. Myron looked back. Atop the last rise, two or three furlongs back, swarmed a mass of human figures, looking like small black ants at the distance.

"Well," said Bessas, "that does it. They have seen us. Now we must run, casting about for some defensible place. A clump of large trees, if their trunks be close enough together, were better than this open greensward. Yâ ahî!"

Off went the Bactrian at a trot, with Dzaka bouncing on his shoulders.