"I am very young," he repeated; "and to-day there come many from outlying villages seeking redress against their enemies."
"Very good," said Sanders. "To-day I will sit at the king's right hand and learn of his wisdom."
The boy stood on one leg in his embarrassment, and eyed Sanders askance.
There is a hillock behind the town. A worn path leads up to it, and a-top is a thatched hut without sides. From this hillock you see the broad river with its sandy shoals, where the crocodiles sleep with open mouth; you see the rising ground toward Akasava, hills that rise one on top of the other, covered with a tangle of vivid green. In this house sits the king in judgment, beckoning the litigants forward. Sato-Koto was wont to stand by the king, bartering justice.
To-day Sato-Koto was preparing to depart and Sanders sat by the king's side.
There were indeed many litigants.
There was a man who had bought a wife, giving no less than a thousand rods and two bags of salt for her. He had lived for three months with her, when she departed from his house.
"Because," said the man philosophically, "she had a lover. Therefore, Mighty Sun of Wisdom, I desire the return of my rods and my salt."
"What say you?" said Sanders.
The king wriggled uncomfortably.