Forget them and give me food, White Man," she added in a piteous tone,
"give me food, for I starve."

"There is scant fare here," answered Leonard, "but you are welcome to
it. Follow me, mother," and he led the way across the donga to the cave,
the woman limping after him painfully.

There Otter gave her meat, and she ate as one eats who has gone hungry
for long, greedily and yet with effort. When she had finished she looked
at Leonard with her keen dark eyes and said:

"Say, White Lord, are you also a slave-trader?"

"No," he answered grimly, "I am a slave."

"Who is your master then--this Black One here?"

"Nay, he is but the slave of a slave. I have no master, mother; I have a
mistress, and she is named Fortune."

"The worst of mistresses," said the old woman, "or the best, for she
laughs ever behind her frown and mingles stripes with kisses."

"The stripes I know well, but not the kisses," answered Leonard
gloomily; then added in another tone, "What is your errand, mother? How
are you named, and what do you seek wandering alone in the mountains?"

"I am named Soa, and I seek succour for one whom I love and who is in
sore distress. Will my lord listen to my tale?"