“Go away, Kora; Kasawayo is my guest. To-night she goes back again to shadowland, so I have little time with her.”
“Ho! ho!” said Kora; “so you want her all for yourself, do you?”
Saying this, Kora stared defiantly at the serpent.
Without any more ado, the serpent seized hold of the frightened Kasawayo and started off into the deeper shadows of the forest.
In a moment Kora sprang forward, saying:
“You shall not take her away from me; well enough I can see that she loves me, and not you!”
Then Kora lifted his big war-club and made a desperate attack on the serpent. In a moment the serpent had lifted its hideous head and chanted forth, “Wathi, wathi, noko-buli!” As the sad Kora heard those words, he realized that the serpent was a heathen god. He knew well enough that he had no power to thwart the serpent’s wishes and so save Kasawayo.
As the serpent once more seized hold of the goddess, she looked over her shoulder and gazed into the eyes of Kora as much as to say, “O beautiful Kora, I love you. Yet must I go away into the forest with this terrible serpent-god.”
Kora hung his head for shame to think that a serpent had more power than he had.
When the god came to his dwelling-cave, which was by the sea, he pulled Kasawayo hurriedly into the dark beyond the big doorway. This great cave was lit up by a dim light that was emitted from the eyes of the serpent. Dragging Kasawayo over to the far corner he placed the trembling goddess on a large lump of red coral that was carved into a chair. As she sat there, couched in the moonlight that crept through the doorway, she trembled violently, and gazed despairingly on the serpent. It was then that the serpent-god crawled to the far end of the big cavern, and, raising his head till it touched the crystals of the sparkling roof, said, “Wathi, wathi!” and lo, the serpent was no longer a serpent, but stood there before Kasawayo—a handsome god!