“The white juice is running out of the princess!” cried another, with an awed look.
“Is it rivers?” asked Odu, gazing at the little streams that flowed adown her hollow cheeks.
“Yes,” answered Mara, “—the most wonderful of all rivers.”
“I thought rivers was bigger, and rushed, like a lot of Little Ones, making loud noises!” he returned, looking at me, from whom alone he had heard of rivers.
“Look at the rivers of the sky!” said Mara. “See how they come down to wake up the waters under the earth! Soon will the rivers be flowing everywhere, merry and loud, like thousands and thousands of happy children. Oh, how glad they will make you, Little Ones! You have never seen any, and do not know how lovely is the water!”
“That will be the glad of the ground that the princess is grown good,” said Odu. “See the glad of the sky!”
“Are the rivers the glad of the princess?” asked Luva. “They are not her juice, for they are not red!”
“They are the juice inside the juice,” answered Mara.
Odu put one finger to his eye, looked at it, and shook his head.
“Princess will not bite now!” said Luva.