The next night the man said, “I do not wish to sleep here to-night. I will go to an adjacent village, and will be back in the morning.” “Well, go,” assented Ogwedembe, “but be sure to be back in the morning.” And the man said, “Yes.”
Scarcely had he left the town to go to the other village, when there came to Ogwedembe three people from a certain Orungu town carrying a message from their Orungu chief, thus: “The chief sent us, saying, ‘Please give up this man who came to you and who claimed your protection. Give up the man. You do not know his habits; they are the habits of a worm that in eating spoils only the best. He, with his sorcery, always aims at killing the greatest. If you do not give him up, there will be war; for our chief has had this same demand made on him from a third chief whose people this man has been killing, and our chief will have to make war with you.’”
Ogwedembe laughed. “You say ‘war’ to me? That is nothing to me. You cannot do it. War cannot touch me.”
When the message of the Orungu chief was being sent to Ogwedembe, some of the attendants on the delegation had awaited half-way on the route, and only the three had brought the message. Ogwedembe said to these three messengers, “Go and call your chief, and we will talk about it.”
The chief came. (All this while the man was away at the other village, not having kept his promise to return.)
Ogwedembe said to the Orungu chief, “It is impossible. The law is sacred. I will not give him up.” But in his heart he felt, “I am protecting a sorcerer who has tried to kill me; better I take the money for his extradition, and send him away.” He and the chief went on discussing. The point was made that the sorcerer having himself broken his obligation, by attempting to injure his adopted father, relieved that father of his Ukuku duty of protection.
Ogwedembe began to yield, and to name the number of slaves that should be given him as the price of giving up the man. The Orungu chief demurred to the price: “It is too much!” So Ogwedembe brought down the price to six slaves,—three slaves, and three bundles of goods equal to the price of three slaves. And it was so settled. Then the Orungu chief said, “I will go in haste to my town to get you the goods; but as to the three slaves, this man’s boy must be counted as one of them.”
There was a dispute over this, Ogwedembe claiming that the boy was not guilty of any crime, and that his right to protection still existed. The Orungu insisted that the boy, being a slave, must follow the fortunes of his master, must be extradited as one with him, and then would of their own will be released by them from the penalty of his master’s guilt. Ogwedembe consented. So the Orungu chief and his people went to get the goods, on the promise that Ogwedembe would have the man caught and ready to be delivered to them.
At once Ogwedembe sent word to the man to fulfil his promise of returning to the town, and told his sons to be ready early next day to have the man caught and tied, ready for delivery on arrival of the goods.
Next day Ogwedembe, seeing the man coming to him, came out of his house to meet him, and speaking ewiria (hidden meaning), called out to his people, “Sons, have you tied up the bundle of bush-deer meat?” “Oh yes, father, we’ll have it ready just now,” as they came running to him. Then they suddenly fell upon the man, dragged him inside the house, began to strip off his clothing, and tied him. He at once knew that there was no mercy, and he did not resist; but he said to his boy, “Call me Adova and her husband.”