"'What is this?' she went on, drawing the withered baby-hand from the
pouch at her side.

"'Is it the hand of a babe? and how came that hand to be thus alone?
What cut it off from the babe? and where is the babe? Is it a hand? or
is it the vision of a hand that shall presently tear thy throat?

"'Where are thy soldiers, Wambe? Do they sleep and eat and go forth to
do thy bidding? or are they perchance dead and scattered like the winter
leaves?'

"He groaned and rolled his eyes while the fierce-faced woman went on.

"'Art thou still a chief, Wambe? or does another take thy place and
power, and say, Lord, what doest thou there? and what is that slave's
leglet upon thy knee?

"'Is it a dream, Wambe, great lord and chief? or'--and she lifted her
clenched hands and shook them in his face--'hath a woman's vengeance
found thee out and a woman's wit o'ermatched thy tyrannous strength? and
art thou about to slowly die in torments horrible to think on, oh, thou
accursed murderer of little children?'

"And with one wild scream she dashed the dead hand of the child straight
into his face, and then fell senseless on the floor. As for the demon
in the trap, he shrank back so far as its iron bounds would allow, his
yellow eyes starting out of his head with pain and terror, and then once
more began to yell.