"What is the matter?" shouted the newcomer in the deep tones that
the girl recognized as belonging to the black sergeant. He had
come, but would she be any better off? She knew that she would not
unless she could play upon Usanga's fear of his woman.
When Usanga found what had happened he kicked the warrior out of
the hut and bade him begone, and when the fellow had disappeared,
muttering and grumbling, the sergeant approached the white girl. He
was very drunk, so drunk that several times she succeeded in eluding
him and twice she pushed him so violently away that he stumbled
and fell.
Finally he became enraged and rushing upon her, seized her in his
long, apelike arms. Striking at his face with clenched fists she
tried to protect herself and drive him away. She threatened him
with the wrath of Naratu, and at that he changed his tactics and
began to plead, and as he argued with her, promising her safety
and eventual freedom, the warrior he had kicked out of the hut made
his staggering way to the hut occupied by Naratu.
Usanga finding that pleas and promises were as unavailing as
threats, at last lost both his patience and his head, seizing the
girl roughly, and simultaneously there burst into the hut a raging
demon of jealousy. Naratu had come. Kicking, scratching, striking,
biting, she routed the terrified Usanga in short order, and
so obsessed was she by her desire to inflict punishment upon her
unfaithful lord and master that she quite forgot the object of his
infatuation.
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