“The water is deep; the distance is very far.” His tone had not changed. “You will give me the knife.”
“No.”
“This knife is for Chinaman. Very old, that knife.” His body rocked slowly back and forth. His voice rose in a sort of chant. “Very powerful, that knife. Not fight man, that knife. Fight demons. Very ’fraid demons. Wave that knife, ring that bell, demons gone. You have that bell. You also give bell, give banners.”
“We do not have the banners or the bell. But if we had, you should not have them.” Florence held her ground.
“You not speak truth. You have bell, have banners. You will give. The water is deep. The distance is far.
“Long time fight demons, that knife.” He was chanting again. “Far away, back very far in China, people all happy, all demons ’fraid, stay away. Priests of Buddha fight demons, that knife.
“White man take knife, take bell, take banners. Now demons come back. Make people sick, those demons. Many people die. No knife, no bell, no banners, can’t fight demons.
“Very dry, no rain. No millet, no rice. Demons make land dry. No knife, no bell, no banner. Can’t fight demons. I come for knife. He come. He come.” He nodded at his statue-like companions. “Come for knife, for bell, for banners. You give.”
“No.” The girl’s figure stiffened. “You will not get the knife. I do not have those others. You have them. You stole them. The chest was empty.
“All you have said is nonsense!” Her voice rose. “Demons do not make men die. If your people are sick they should go to the white doctor. He will cure them. All those things, the knife, the bell, the banners were sold for money, much money. That money would buy things for the white doctor. You have no right to them. You stole them. You have them all but the knife. You will not get the knife.”