The Chisera
That you were the man most deserving their favor, and that all the medicine I had learned until then was merely that I might persuade them for your sake.
Simwa
(Sitting up.) Chisera, when you go up to the Friend of the Soul of Man, you cannot be always asking for the tribespeople. Do you not sometimes ask for yourself?
The Chisera
What should I ask for when I have your love?
Simwa
For friends, perhaps, who are to be rewarded, or those who have done you injuries? (Watching her.)
The Chisera
(Laughing.) Once, Simwa, before I was sure of you, I made a singing medicine to draw you from the camp. And you came, Arrow-Maker of Sagharawite, you came. (Laying her hands on his bosom.) Did you not feel me draw you?