"O woman!"
The intruder had passed unnoticed, almost it seemed by magic, through the throng, and now he stood in the clear space of sacrifice. And there was not one in the throng who had not heard of him with his leopard skin and his belt of brass.
He was as black as the strange Ethiopians who came sometimes to the land with the Arabi traders, his muscular arms and legs were dull in their blackness.
There was a whisper of terror—"The Walker of the Night!—" and the people fell back ... a woman screamed and fell into a fit.
"O woman," said M'gani, "deliver to me these little children who have done no evil."
Open-mouthed the half-demented daughter of B'limi Saka stared at him.
He walked forward, lifted the children in his two arms and went slowly through the people, who parted in terror at his coming.
He turned at the top of the basin to speak.
"Do no wickedness," said he; then he gently stooped to put the children on the ground, for mouthing and bellowing senseless sounds Lamalana came furiously after him, her long, crooked knife in her hand. He thrust his hand into the leopard skin as for a weapon, but before he could withdraw it, a man of Lombobo, half in terror, fell upon and threw his arms about M'gani.