He cast quick, fearful
glances about, and then, evidently assured that Naratu had noticed
nothing, he ordered the warrior who was still holding the infuriated
black woman from the white girl to take the latter back to her hut
and to remain there on guard over her.
First appropriating a gourd of beer for himself the warrior
motioned the girl to precede him, and thus guarded she returned to
her hut, the fellow squatting down just outside the doorway, where
he confined his attentions for some time to the gourd.
Bertha Kircher sat down at the far side of the hut awaiting she
knew not what impending fate. She could not sleep so filled was her
mind with wild schemes of escape though each new one must always be
discarded as impractical. Half an hour after the warrior had returned
her to her prison he rose and entered the hut, where he tried to
engage in conversation with her. Groping across the interior he
leaned his short spear against the wall and sat down beside her,
and as he talked he edged closer and closer until at last he could
reach out and touch her. Shrinking, she drew away.
"Do not touch me!" she cried. "I will tell Usanga if you do not
leave me alone, and you know what he will do to you."
The man only laughed drunkenly, and, reaching out his hand, grabbed
her arm and dragged her toward him. She fought and cried aloud for
Usanga and at the same instant the entrance to the hut was darkened
by the form of a man.
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