"You are a great man," bleated the king, "and some day you shall build your hut in the shadow of my palace."
"On that day," said the chief, with splendid resignation, "I shall die of joy."
When the moon had waxed and waned and come again, a pencilled silver hoop of light in the eastern sky, the Isisi warriors gathered with spear and broad-bladed sword, with ingola on their bodies, and clay in their hair.
They danced a great dance by the light of a huge fire, and all the women stood round, clapping their hands rhythmically.
In the midst of this there arrived a messenger in a canoe, who prostrated himself before the king, saying:
"Master, one day's march from here is Sandi; he has with him five score of soldiers and the brass gun which says: 'Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!'"
A silence reigned in court circles, which was broken by the voice of the Akasava chief.
"I think I will go home," he said. "I have a feeling of sickness; also, it is the season when my goats have their young."
"Do not be afraid," said Sato-Koto brutally. "The king's shadow is over you, and he is so mighty that the earth shakes at his tread, and the waters of the big river part at his footfall; also, the white men fear him."
"Nevertheless," said the chief, with some agitation, "I must go, for my youngest son is sickening with fever, and calls all the time for me."