“But when he got near, he started back. ‘Alla! what eyes! Fire comes out of them.’ And he, too, turned away.
“Then a third man went. ‘He is very small,’ he said; ‘I can easily put him in my awa-skin.’ He stooped and took the little Sun under his arms.
“‘Ohé! ohé! ohé!’ he cried, dropping the baby on to the red sand. ‘What is this for toverij! It is like fire under his arms. He burns me when I take him up.’
“The others all came round to see. They didn’t come too near, my baasjes, because they were frightened, but they wanted to see the strange brown baby that could talk, and that burned like a fire.
“All on a sudden he stretched himself; he turned his head and put up his little arms. Bright sparks flew from his eyes, and yellow light streamed from under his arms, and—hierr, skierr—the Men of the Early Race fell over each other as they ran through the milk-bushes back to the road. My! but they were frightened!
“The women were sitting there with their babies on their backs, waiting for their husbands.
“‘Come along! Hurry! hurry! See that you get away from here,’ said the men, without stopping.
“The women began to run, too.
“‘What was it? What did you find?’
“‘A terrible something,’ said the men, still running. ‘It pretends to be a baby, but we know it is a mensevreter. There it lies in the sand, begging one of us to pick it up and put it in his awa-skin, but as soon as we go near, it tries to burn us; and if we don’t make haste and get away from here, it will certainly catch us.’