Well," I replied, "you are the rain-maker; why don't you give your
people rain?" "Give my people rain!" said Katchiba.
"I give them rain if
they don't give me goats? You don't know my people. If I am fool enough
to give them rain before they give me the goats, they would let me
starve! No, no! let them wait. If they don't bring me supplies of corn,
goats, fowls, yams, merissa, and all that I require, not one drop of
rain shall ever fall again in Obbo! Impudent brutes are my people! Do
yon know, they have positively threatened to kill me unless I bring the
rain?
They shan't have a drop. I will wither the crops and bring a plague upon
their flocks. I'll teach these rascals to insult me!"
With all this bluster, I saw that old Katchiba was in a great dilemma,
and that he would give anything for a shower, but that lie did not know
how to get out of the scrape. It was a common freak of the tribes to
sacrifice the rain-maker should he be unsuccessful. He suddenly altered
his tone, and asked, "Have you any rain in your country?" I replied that
we had, every now and then. "How do you bring it? Are you a rain-maker?"
I told him that no one believed in rain- makers in our country, but that
we understood how to bottle lightning (meaning electricity). "I don't
keep mine in bottles, but I have a houseful of thunder and lightning,"
he most coolly replied; "but if you can bottle lightning, you must
understand rain-making.
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