And braving the arrows of the Bushmen—poisoned with the n’gwa juice—they flew down to the poor half-crazed man in the cauldron.
At the sight of the winged boys, the blacks fled in terror, their woolly hair uncurling, and their eyes starting from their eye-sockets.
“Um gullaber n’ging boo!” they yelled, which means “The Evil Ones have come!” Then rushing madly away, they left their dinner to cook itself.
Tibbs and Kiddiwee were delighted at the success of their surprise visit, and ran to the cauldron to help the poor man out, but when they beheld his face they drew back with a cry.
“It’s the Clerk of the Weather!” gasped Tibbs.
“So it is!” sneered the spiteful Clerk. “Have you found your precious December day yet?”
“No,” growled Tibbs, still too amazed to know what to do.
“And I don’t think you will!” yelled the Clerk of the Weather. Then, leaning suddenly forward, he grasped hold of the two boys and pulled them into the cauldron, jumping out himself as he did so; then, flying up into the coil of smoke from the fire, disappeared.
“It was just a beastly trick!” cried Tibbs, scrambling as best he could from the hot cauldron, and helping Kiddiwee out after him. “I’d like to punch that fellow into fits!”
But he had no time to think of revenge, for the Bushmen grew bold at seeing the winged boys in the cauldron, and now ran towards them threateningly.