Umslopogaas heard, and of a sudden reared himself up before the maid, and he was great and wild to look on, and the she-wolf’s fangs shone upon his brow.
“The ghost-wolves are at hand, damsel,” he said. “They are ever at hand for those who need them.”
Now the maid saw him and screamed faintly, then grew silent, wondering at the greatness and the fierce eyes of the man who spoke to her.
“Who are you?” she asked. “I fear you not, whoever you are.”
“There you are wrong, damsel, for all men fear me, and they have cause to fear. I am one of the Wolf-Brethren, whose names have been told of; I am a wizard of the Ghost Mountain. Take heed, now, lest I kill you. It will be of little avail to call upon your people, for my feet are fleeter than theirs.”
“I have no wish to call upon my people, Wolf-Man,” she answered. “And for the rest, I am too young to kill.”
“That is so, maiden,” answered Umslopogaas, looking at her beauty. “What were the words upon your lips as to Jikiza and a certain Masilo? Were they not fierce words, such as my heart likes well?”
“It seems that you heard them,” answered the girl. “What need to waste breath in speaking them again?”
“No need, maiden. Now tell me your story; perhaps I may find a way to help you.”
“There is little to tell,” she answered. “It is a small tale and a common. My name is Zinita, and Jikiza the Unconquered is my step-father. He married my mother, who is dead, but none of his blood is in me. Now he would give me in marriage to a certain Masilo, a fat man and an old, whom I hate, because Masilo offers many cattle for me.”