“Huh!” replied Keejeepaa, lightly; “for a fly to die in honey is not bad for the fly, and doesn’t injure the honey.”
“It may be all very well for you to be easy about it,” persisted the old person; “but if people with swords and shields did not escape, how can a little thing like you avoid danger? I must again beg of you to go back to the place you came from. Your safety seems of more interest to me than it is to you.”
“Well, you see, I can’t go back just now; and besides, I want to find out more about this place. Who owns it?”
“Ah, grandson, in this house are enormous wealth, numbers of people, hundreds of horses, and the owner is Neeo′ka Mkoo′, the wonderfully big snake. He owns this whole town, also.”
“Oho! Is that so?” said Keejeepaa. “Look here, old lady; can’t you put me on to some plan of getting near this big snake, that I may kill him?”
“Mercy!” cried the old woman, in affright; “don’t talk like that. You’ve put my life in danger already, for I’m sure Neeoka Mkoo can hear what is said in this house, wherever he is. You see I’m a poor old woman, and I have been placed here, with those pots and pans, to cook for him. Well, when the big snake is coming, the wind begins to blow and the dust flies as it would do in a great storm. Then, when he arrives in the courtyard, he eats until he is full, and after that, goes inside there to drink water. When he has finished, he goes away again. This occurs every other day, just when the sun is overhead. I may add that Neeoka Mkoo has seven heads. Now, then, do you think yourself a match for him?”
“Look here, mother,” said the gazelle, “don’t you worry about me. Has this big snake a sword?”
“He has. This is it,” said she, taking from its peg a very keen and beautiful blade, and handing it to him; “but what’s the use in bothering about it? We are dead already.”
“We shall see about that,” said Keejeepaa.
Just at that moment the wind began to blow, and the dust to fly, as if a great storm were approaching.