did because he wished to cut his message more deeply into the tablets of
my mind.

Umslopogaas listened to every syllable with a curious intentness, and
then asked me to repeat it all again, which I did.

"Lousta! Monazi!" he said slowly. "Well, you heard those names to-day,
did you not, White Man? And you heard certain things from the lips
of this Monazi who was angry, that give colour to that talk of the
Opener-of-Roads. It seems to me," he added, glancing about him and
speaking in a low voice, "that what I suspected is true and that without
doubt I am betrayed."

"I do not understand," I replied indifferently. "All this talk is dark
to me, as is the message of the Opener-of-Roads, or rather its meaning.
By whom and about what are you betrayed?"

"Let that snake sleep. Do not kick it with your foot. Suffice it you to
know that my head hangs upon this matter; that I am a rat in a forked
stick, and if the stick is pressed on by a heavy hand, then where is the
rat?"

"Where all rats go, I suppose, that is, unless they are wise rats that
bite the hand which holds the stick before it is pressed down."

"What is the rest of this story of yours, Macumazahn, which was told
before the Opener-of-Roads gave you that message? Does it please you to
repeat it to me that I may judge of it with my ears?"

"Certainly," I answered, "on one condition, that what the ears hear, the