“Be on thy guard! O, Chief. The brawler hath a flint knife hidden in his girdle. He will attempt to slay thee. Be careful! Be calm!”
Go-Whizz had now quieted down a little; but, with a voice of thunder, he began his tirade. He pictured the long years of peace and happiness on their island, the blessings they had enjoyed under the long and glorious line of rulers of which Ztwish-Ztwish was the worthy descendant. He thundered out defiance against all the enemies of the Wind Eaters and as softly as possible roared his own praises telling of the many deeds of valor he had performed in Ztwish-Ztwish’s service and ended by declaring himself ready and willing to die for his beloved chief.
When Go-Whizz had spoken, the chief bowed his head for a few moments in silence and then made answer: “Thou hast spoken truly and wisely, O Go-Whizz! Thou art brave. Thou hast the right to demand favor at my hands! Speak, Go-Whizz, what may Ztwish-Ztwish do for thee?”
At these words of Ztwish-Ztwish, all the former fury of Go-Whizz broke forth once more. Pounding his chest and striding up and down the audience chamber, he roared out:
“That thou givest into my hands this very hour, the ‘Solid Demon,’ the dreaded ‘Man-Lump,’ the monster ‘Thick-All-Through’ who hath brought all this death and ruin into our peaceful land!”
Chief Ztwish-Ztwish was silent for a few moments.
Need I tell you that my very heart listened for the reply?
I could hear nothing but the deep, coarse, grating sound of Go-Whizz’s breath as I leaned forward to catch the first word which should fall from the chief’s lips.
It seemed a lifetime. At length Ztwish-Ztwish spoke:
“My brother, thou art inflamed with the deep draughts of the fierce and raging north wind! Thou art beside thyself. Thou seest not clearly! I must not adjudge death except when the decree will rest on the laws of our fathers. True, the ‘Little Man-Thick-All-Through’ hath been the cause of great misfortune to our people, but the innocent cause. He hath not striven or desired to harm us. He is a lover of peace, a friend of his kind. My followers were warned of the danger of the crimson tongues. The ‘Man Lump’ did not seek their death. And full well too, thou knowest that the laws of our fathers bid us to hold the lives of our guests as sacred as the texture of our skin. Go thy way, therefore, Go-Whizz, I cannot doom the ‘Man Lump’ to death.