we will surely come,” Mat Drus made answer, employing the cautious formula of his people.
"And forget not the girl Mînah," added the youth. But here a third voice broke into the conversation—a voice shrill and harsh and angry, which ran up the scale to a painful pitch, and broke queerly on the higher notes.
"Have you the heart, Kria? Have you the heart to bring this message to my man. We are both of age, you and I. We know and understand. May the Grandfather die by a spear cast from afar! May he die a violent death, stabbed, bowstrung and impaled crosswise! May he die vomiting blood, and you, too, Kria, who are but the hunting-dog of the Chief!"
"Peace! Peace!" cried Mat Drus in an agitated voice, turning upon his wife a face that betokened an agony of fear. "Hold your peace, woman without shame. And Kria, do you tell the Grandfather that we will surely comic, aye, and the girl Mînah also. according to his bidding; and heed not the words of this so foolish woman of mine."
"I care not to bandy words with a hug," said Kria. "But the Grandfather will be wroth when he learns of the ill things that your woman has spoken."
"They are without meaning—they are of no account—the words of a woman who is growing childish," protested Mat Drus. "Pay no heed to them, and I pray you, speak not to the Grandfather concerning them."
