And, parenthetically, from that moment _Bibi-ya-chui_--the Leopard Woman--
was the name by which she was known among the children of the sun.

She did not greet him in any way, but turned her head to address commands.

"Bring a chair for the _bwana_; bring cigarettes; bring _balauri--
lime juice_----"

Kingozi found himself established comfortably.

She moved her whole body slightly sidewise, the better to face him. The
soft silk fell in new lines about her, defining new curves. Her red lips
smiled softly, and her eyes were dark and inscrutable.

"I was what you call horrid to-day," she said. "It was not me: it was the
frightenedness from the rhinoceros. I was very much frightened, so I had
the porters beaten. That was horrid, was it not? Do you understand it? I
suppose not. Men have no nerves, like women. They are brave always. I have
not said what I feel. I have heard of you--the most wonderful shot in
Central Africa. I believe it--now."

Kingozi's eyes were lingering on her silk-clad form, the peep of ankles
below her robe. She observed him with slanted eyes, and a little breath of
satisfaction raised her bosom. Abruptly he spoke.

"Aren't you afraid of fever mosquitoes in that rig?" said he.

Her body stirred convulsively, and her finely pencilled eyebrows, with
their perpetual air of surprise, moved with impatience; but her voice
answered him equably: