Immanâla lifted her flat grey head, and seemed to listen. "I hear the harps of Tishnar in the forest. The leaves of the branches of the trees of my master Nōōmanossi stir, and yet there moves no wind."
She fixed her colourless eyes on Nod, with her ears on her long, smooth forehead pricked forward. "What is the cunning Mulgar thinking beneath all he says? Like fine sand in water, I hear the rustling of his thoughts."
Nod took a long breath and shut his eyes. "I was thinking," he said, "what stupid fellows must be these dogs of yours, seeing that each and every one keeps whimpering, 'The head—the head for me!' But they must wait in patience yet a little longer, if even a knucklebone is to be a share. I will go forward and choose out all that I and the Mulla-mulgars, my brothers, want of the Oomgar's house-treasures before the Jaccatrays tear everything to pieces."
"Softly, now, softly," said Immanâla. "You think very little of me, Nizza-neela. Do you dream I came from far to protect you from my slaves, Roses and Jaccatray, and now am to get nothing for my pains? What of that stiff coat drenched with magic? That is mine. No, no, little greedy Mulgar; we share together, or I have all."
"Well, well," said Nod, as if unwilling, "you shall take part, mistress, though all that's there is truly Tishnar's. Follow quietly! I will see if my Zbaffle be still asleep."
Immanâla crouched snarling in the moonlight, and Nod ran swiftly to the hut. The moon streamed in on the sailor's upturned face, where, lying flat on his back, he snored and snored and snored. Then Nod very quietly took down from its wooden hook the sailor's great skin coat, his belt of Ephelanto-hide, his huge hair hat, all such as in his wanderings he had captured from black Kings and men of magic. He filled the pockets, he stuffed them with bullets and copper rings and stones and lumps of ice—everything heavy that he could find. At the rattling of the stones Battle rolled over, muttering hoarsely in his sleep. Nod stopped instantly and listened. No words he understood. Then once more he set to work, and soon had dragged the huge stiff coat and hat and belt one by one over the door-log into the snow.
"Hither, come hither! Hasten, mistress!" he called softly, capering round about them. "Here's a sight to cheer your royal heart! Here's riches! What have we here but the magic coat which the Oomgar stripped from the M'keeso of the old Lord Shillambansa, that feeds a hundred peacocks on his grave?"
Very, very heedfully Immanâla drew near on her belly in the snow. Cat-like, she smelt and capered.
"Have no fear, Beast of Shadows," called Nod softly; "the Oomgar sleeps like moss on the Tree of Everlasting."
Then all her vanity and greed welled up in the Beast of Shadows, for whosoever her dam may be, and all her lineage of solitude and strangeness, she has more greed than a wolf, more vanity than a vixen. She thrust her long lean head into the Cap.