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about a fire. As she approached she saw the villagers and their guests squatting
in a large circle about the blaze before which a half-dozen naked warriors leaped
and bent and stamped in some grotesque dance. Pots of food and gourds of drink
were being passed about among the audience. Dirty hands were plunged into the
food pots and the captured portions devoured so greedily that one might have
thought the entire community had been upon the point of starvation. The gourds
they held to their lips until the beer ran down their chins and the vessels were
wrested from them by greedy neighbors. The drink had now begun to take
noticeable effect upon most of them, with the result that they were beginning to
give themselves up to utter and licentious abandon.
As the girl came nearer, keeping in the shadow of the huts, looking for Naratu she
was suddenly discovered by one upon the edge of the crowd--a huge woman, who
rose, shrieking, and came toward her. From her aspect the white girl thought that
the woman meant literally to tear her to pieces. So utterly wanton and uncalled-
for was the attack that it found the girl entirely unprepared, and what would have
happened had not a warrior interfered may only be guessed. And then Usanga,
noting the interruption, came lurching forward to question her.
"What do you want," he cried, "food and drink? Come with me!" and he threw an
arm about her and dragged her toward the circle.
"No!" she cried, "I want Naratu. Where is Naratu?"
This seemed to sober the black for a moment as though he had temporarily
forgotten his better half. He cast quick, fearful glances about, and then, evidently
assured that Naratu had noticed nothing, he ordered the warrior who was still
holding the infuriated black woman from the white girl to take the latter back to
her hut and to remain there on guard over her.
First appropriating a gourd of beer for himself the warrior motioned the girl to
precede him, and thus guarded she returned to her hut, the fellow squatting
down just outside the doorway, where he confined his attentions for some time to
the gourd.
Bertha Kircher sat down at the far side of the hut awaiting she knew not what
impending fate. She could not sleep so filled was her mind with wild schemes of
escape though each new one must always be discarded as impractical. Half an
hour after the warrior had returned her to her prison he rose and entered the
hut, where he tried to engage in conversation with her. Groping across the
interior he leaned his short spear against the wall and sat down beside her, and
as he talked he edged closer and closer until at last he could reach out and touch
her. Shrinking, she drew away.
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