emptied, and a third or fourth jar brought out, he began to
unburthen his heart of its dark and dangerous secrets. He shed
tears--for the "man without at ear" dwells not in the woods of
Guayana: tears for those who had been treacherously slain long
years ago; for his father, who had been killed by Tripica, the
father of Managa, who was still above ground. But let him and
all his people beware of Runi. He had spilt their blood before,
he had fed the fox and vulture with their flesh, and would never
rest while Managa lived with his people at Uritay--the five hills
of Uritay, which were two days' journey from Parahuari. While
thus talking of his old enemy he lashed himself into a kind of
frenzy, smiting his chest and gnashing his teeth; and finally
seizing a spear, he buried its point deep into the clay floor,
only to wrench it out and strike it into the earth again and
again, to show how he would serve Managa, and any one of Managa's
people he might meet with--man, woman, or child. Then he
staggered out from the door to flourish his spear; and looking to
the north-west, he shouted aloud to Managa to come and slay his
people and burn down his house, as he had so often threatened to
do.

"Let him come! Let Managa come!" I cried, staggering out after
him. "I am your friend, your brother; I have no spear and no
arrows, but I have this--this!" And here I drew out and
flourished my revolver. "Where is Managa?" I continued. "Where
are the hills of Uritay?" He pointed to a star low down in the
south-west. "Then," I shouted, "let this bullet find Managa,
sitting by the fire among his people, and let him fall and pour
out his blood on the ground!" And with that I discharged my
pistol in the direction he had pointed to. A scream of terror