let us hear what you have to say! But beware of lies, or Mpatanasi will have your head with that of the king!"
Bamuti stood up in the moonlight, threw back his head and stepped into the tent. He had traveled all night through the forest and his handsome thighs and chest glistened with perspiration. He was clothed in a turkey-red loincloth, and he wore on his shaven head a soft felt hat. His chest was tattooed, and his arms were encircled by rings of ivory, painted green and yellow and black. He held himself erect and looked straight into the impatient eyes of Mpatanasi.
"The queen's women are good to me, and love me. They often take me into their arms and fondle me and kiss me. They are very beautiful and at such times I am happy." He spoke simply, and never removed his eyes from the impatient face of Mpatanasi.
"Well?"
"The day before yesterday the queen called me to her. 'You are very good-looking,' she said. Then she ordered me to make up a pretty speech out of my head and recite it to her. The idea fascinated me and I sat down upon the floor and endeavored to think of something unusual to say to her. Then the king came in and found me there!"
"And of course you were punished!"
"I should have been, but, you see, I am very impulsive. The king seemed so utterly despicable. As you know, it is a really insignificant man, and ugly! He didn't even have the heart to be angry. And I pitied the queen. When a man does not even consider a woman worth fighting for! Well, I decided that the king was unworthy, and so I killed him. There was really very little choice in the matter. I pitied the queen, and when you catch the knife between the first and second ribs there is scarcely any pain. He died beautifully. I held the long knife in my hand and fingered the blade, which was as smooth and fine and valiant a blade as any king could have decently hoped for. It was a splendid look which came into the king's eyes when he died, and I think that he was grateful. You do not know what a dreadful burden a king must bear. But you will—you will! For three days now you have been king. Everyone knew it but you! But we did not dare to tell you. Mu-senyui pitied you. He came to me tonight with tears in his eyes. 'He must be told,' he said. He didn't have the heart to tell you himself, so he sent me."
Mpatanasi was silent, for he was an old man and slow-witted. And he did not at first comprehend the monstrous villainy of Mu-senyui.
When Mpatanasi understood, he went out into the clearing, and pounded with his bare fists upon his chest and arms. Then he sat down upon the ground, and tittered idiotically.
His daughter came lazily through the door and comforted him with sneers. She stood above him, poised on her beautiful toes, and wrapped herself nonchalantly in shadows. Then she darted away between the boles of trees that seemed to mock and leer and writhe upward with volatile contortions. The trunks appeared to trucidate each other, and dark, amorphous branches descended from above and swayed in the moonlight, and gradually assumed the appearance of arms and legs, the arms and legs of amazingly ancient men, and each arm and each leg seemed to terminate in a bulbous knot, and long streamers of reddish moss depended from them and flaffed in the wind. The spaces between the trees were tapestried with shadowy thickets, and at the base of the trees bluish fungi bloated in the moonlight and filled the air with a noisome stench. Here and there an orchid extended its lurid red lips and
