" And I waved my left
hand toward the tiny figures of the hunters far to the north.
The fellow laughed. "Do it," he cried derisively, "and then it
may be that I shall believe the balance of your strange story."
"But I do not wish to kill any of them," I replied. "Why should
I?"
"Why not?" he insisted. "They would have killed you when they
had you prisoner. They would kill you now if they could get their
hands on you, and they would eat you into the bargain. But I know
why you do not try it--it is because you have spoken lies; your
weapon will not kill at a great distance. It is only a queerly
wrought club. For all I know, you are nothing more than a lowly
Bo-lu."
"Why should you wish me to kill your own people?" I asked.
"They are no longer my people," he replied proudly. "Last night,
in the very middle of the night, the call came to me. Like that
it came into my head"--and he struck his hands together smartly
once--"that I had risen. I have been waiting for it and expecting
it for a long time; today I am a Krolu. Today I go into the
coslupak" (unpeopled country, or literally, no man's land) "between
the Band-lu and the Kro-lu, and there I fashion my bow and my arrows
and my shield; there I hunt the red deer for the leathern jerkin
which is the badge of my new estate. When these things are done,
I can go to the chief of the Kro-lu, and he dare not refuse me.
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