Where is
it, thief, where is it?"
"Worn out, my mother, worn out," he answered, trying to free himself.
"You forget, honourable mother, that I grow old and you should have been
dead years ago. How can you expect a blanket to last so long? Leave go
of my ear, beloved mother, and I will give you another. I have travelled
across the world to find you and I want to hear news of your husband."
"My husband, thief, which husband? Do you mean your father, the one with
the broken nose, who was sacrificed because you ran away with the white
man whom Bonsa loved? Well, you look out for him when you get into the
world of ghosts, for he said that he was going to wait for you there
with the biggest stick that he could find. Why I haven't thought of him
for years, but then I have had three other husbands since his time, bad
enough, but better than he was, so who would? And now Bonsa has got the
lot, and I have no children alive, and they say I am to be driven out of
the prison to starve next week as they won't feed me any longer, I who
can still work against any one of them, and--you've got my blanket, you
ugly old rascal," and collapsing beneath the weight of her recited woes,
the hag burst into a melancholy howl.
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