"But, lord," persisted the man, "they are of the Ochori and with them goes Bosambo, very terrible in his war dress; and the Ochori have reddened their shields."
"Which way did he come?" asked Tobolaka, impressed in spite of himself.
"Lord," said the man, "they came from below to above."
"And what of my canoe?" asked Tobolaka.
"That we have not seen," replied the man.
"Go and watch."
Tobolaka was not as perturbed as his councillors, for he had never looked upon reddened shields or their consequences. He waited for half an hour, and then the news came that the canoe was rounding the point, but no woman was there.
Half mad with rage and chagrin, Tobolaka struck down the man who brought the intelligence. He was at the beach to meet the crestfallen headman, and heard his story in silence.
"Take this man," said Tobolaka, "and all the men who were with him, and bind them with ropes. By Death! we will have a feast and a dance and some blood!"
That night the war drums of the Isisi beat from one end of the land to the other, and canoes filled with armed men shot out of little creeks and paddled to the city.