Not knowing what to do, Alan stepped on to the dais, the painted man
scowling at him as he passed. Then he halted and said:
"How can I kiss your hand through this mask, Asika?"
"True," she answered, then considered a little and added, "White man,
you have brought back Little Bonsa, have you not, Little Bonsa who ran
away with you a great many years ago?"
"I have," he said, ignoring the rest of the question.
"Your messengers said that you required a present of gold in return for
Little Bonsa. I have sent you one, is it sufficient? If not, you can
have more."
"I cannot say, O Asika, I have not examined it. But I thank you for the
present and desire porters to enable me to carry it away."
"You desire porters," she repeated meditatively. "We will talk of that
when you have rested here a moon or two. Meanwhile, give me Little Bonsa
that she may be restored to her own place."
Alan opened the tin box and lifting out the fetish, gave it to the
priestess, who took it and with a serpentine movement of extraordinary
grace glided from her chair on to her knees, holding the mask above her
head in both hands, then thrice covered her face with it.
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