“But what are you going to do with him?” asked Katalambula.
“It is for the King to command,” said Ferodia, in an insinuating tone.
“Well, I will give him to Kalulu; but I thought there were three of them; or were there four?”
“Only three white,” said Ferodia; “one died on the road, a little fellow, and the tallest ran away, about five days from here.”
“Why did he run away?” asked the King.
“Because he was a fool, and the son of a fool,” responded Ferodia. “I never saw such a stubborn ass; his mouth was full of words, but his back had no work in it; therefore he preferred to die in the woods, as he cannot live. Yet had he spirit enough for two warriors, and he would have made a fine slave by-and-bye.”
“Who art thou speaking of, Ferodia?” asked young Kalulu.
“Now, hold thy tongue, boy, and do not thou interfere with the affairs of men; but rather see how good Ferodia, thy uncle, is to thee; he has given thee that white slave for a playmate. Take him, cut loose his bonds, and teach him to be a warrior.”
“Nay, let Ferodia answer me,” persisted Kalulu, “and I will then see about the white slave. Who is he that has run away?”
“If thou must know,” said Ferodia, looking on Kalulu kindly, “’twas a young Arab slave, about thy age, who ran away. He was the son of a chief, and I half suspect he was driven to run away by Tifum’s unkindness.”