"Ah, you are jealous! A little forest bird is pecking, pecking at your heart. But listen; to-morrow it shall not be Kalamazoo, but Kaloomah once again."
Well, I dare say that love-making is very much the same all over the wide, wide world, and so we cannot even laugh at this cannibal if he did bend rapturously down and kiss the toe of Leeboo's sandal-shaped stirrup.
"And now, Kaloomah," she added, "I would gather some wild flowers, and listen for a little while to the soo-soo's song while you twine my wild flowers into a garland. My little handmaiden, Weenah, will assist you.
"But, Kaloomah!" she continued archly.
"Yes, my moon-dream."
"You must not make love to my maiden, else a little forest bird will peck poor Leeboo's heart to pieces and Leeboo die."
————
I hardly think it would be putting it one whit too strongly to say that the pale-face maiden queen had turned this savage's head.
They all returned together at last to the palace, and the queen with her little handmaiden retired to her chamber to dine.
As to Kaloomah, the spirit of pride had got into him, and this is really as difficult to get rid of as if one were possessed of an evil spirit. So the chief, decorated with the garland of wild flowers that Leeboo the queen had placed around his neck, could not resist the temptation to parade himself on the plateau before Kalamazoo's tent. He wished the prince to see him. And the prince did.