There was a barely audible “Ah!” from the throats of the white men, who had held their breath in intense desire to catch Mustard’s answer. The anxiety of the white men was instantly relieved. They did not understand, but if that crowd of men, women, and children were scared and running away from something, that put a much better light upon the matter.
“To get away from—what?” Gaitskill snapped.
“Dunno, suh,” Mustard replied, scratching his head. “I’s done heerd tell dat she eats ’em alive.”
“Eats—what? who?”
“Dey calls her de canned bull,” Mustard informed him in uncertain tones.
“I presume he means cannibal,” Dr. Sentelle suggested with a loud chuckle.
“Yes, suh,” Mustard acquiesced. “Dat whut I jes’ said.”
“What do you know about a cannibal?” Gaitskill growled.
“Hopey, de woman whut cooks fer you, sont me word, an’ old Isaiah an’ Little Bit fotch me de pertick’lers,” Mustard told him. “Ole Isaiah tole me dat he done saw dat wild woman fight a bear an’ she kilt it dead. He specify dat she gib dat bear de all-under holt an’ de fust two bites!”
“Isaiah is an old liar,” Gaitskill said.