In the entrance to the hut there stood a terrible figure. Hamilton, her hand flung before her mouth, screamed. In the figure’s right fist was a handful of sprigs, with red berries. The metal face, horned, feathered, painted, striped, with yellow and purple, regarded her. In the figure’s left hand was a yellow stick, surmounted by a skull. He was very tall, and naked, gaunt and bony, save for a cord and strip of cloth. Through the slits in the bronze face, of hammered metal, the eyes looked upon her, in fury. On the cheeks of the horned bronze, engraved in the metal, were mystic signs. The figure’s body, too, was covered with such signs, tokens heavy with magic, yellow and purple, tattooed into the skin in patient, agonizing rites, the results of deliberately inflicted wounds, kept open, methodically contaminated over a period of weeks with colored earths. About his neck was a string from which hung small bags of herbs; to the same string, pendant, some four inches in width, hung a round disk of hammered bronze; on this disk was the representation of a personage, one bearded and of dreadful mien, many times the size of life, sitting on a great seat, handing a stalk of barley to a tiny man, reaching upward to take it. At the cord at his waist, too, on strings of woven grass, hung the bones of two hands. These were painted yellow. He uttered a great cry of wrath. He lifted the yellow stick with the skull high in the hut. The men, miserable, moaning, unable to look up, fell back before him. He thrust the handful of sprigs, with red berries, at Hamilton, and shook it. She was crouching down. She shrank back, shuddering. The figure turned away from her and regarded the men. They cringed before him, shrinking small. None met his eyes. Hamilton, the attention of the figure no longer focused on her, on her hands and knees, crawled to the side of the hut, and knelt there, leaning sick, frightened, against the mud and poles. The gaunt figure in the bronzed mask turned on the men, berating them. They looked down. The voice of the man in the bronzed mask was mighty in its denunciation, in its indignation, its outrage, in its condemnation. Suddenly the leader of the men in the hut, furtively looking up, blurted out words, and pointed at Hamilton. She looked up to see him pointing at her. The other men, supporting their leader, blurted their assent to whatever he had said. Hamilton, who did not even understand the language of the Dirt People, shook her bead, negatively. “No,” she said in English, and in the language of the Men. “No, No!” The tall, gaunt figure turned on her and looked down upon her. She shrank back against the mud and poles. “No,” she said. “No!” The impassive mask, the eyes cold behind it, looked down upon her. “No,” whispered Hamilton, and then looked down. The tall figure turned away from her. He said something, decisive, to the men in the hut, and then left the structure. None of the men left the hut. The men looked to one another. They seemed more confident now. And; too, they looked upon her, angrily. She looked down, and away. After a short time the tall, gaunt figure returned. No longer did he carry the handful of sprigs or the stick, surmounted with a skull. He carried, this time, a wizard stick, yellow, wrapped with cord, with feathers dangling from it. The men formed a circle in the hut, one point on the circumference of which was occupied by Hamilton, now ordered to stand, while, within the circle, stood the tall, gaunt figure. He began to chant, a monotonous, repetitive chant, which was taken up by the men. Sometimes he closed his eyes; he began to turn and sway; the men, too, in their bodies, reflected the rhythm of the chant; then, within the circle, the gaunt figure, swaying, chanting, began to watch the stick which he held in his hand; so, too, did the men; Hamilton, too, in spite of herself, watched the stick. Then, to her horror, the stick, though it was moved by the tall, gaunt figure, seemed to hesitate and lift itself; obviously he controlled the stick, but, in the manner in which his attention was focused on it, and that of the men, there was almost an illusion that the stick, like a snake, moved of its own accord; the gaunt man, and the others, chanting, watched the stick; it lifted its tufted, feathered end, as though quizzically, and, as though it might have had eyes, or nostrils with which to smell, it seemed to peer at them, or to take their scent; it quivered, alert; it regarded the men, turning slowly about the circle; sometimes it lingered on one; meanwhile the chant continued, sometimes growing more intense, more frenzied, louder, sometimes less intense, more subdued, softer. The stick prowled the circle, like an animal, trying to smell out. something; the men, chanting, watched it with apprehension; Hamilton was terrified; twice the stick prowled the circle; twice it passed her; the second time it lingered longer; as the stick neared her the chant became more intense, louder; “No!” she said; then the stick passed her again, and she almost fainted, fearing only that it would, in its circle, return again, pausing before her, marking her out. The stick paused then before the leader of the men in the hut; he could not chant; sweat broke out on his forehead; he was terrified; then, as his knees almost buckled, the stick, as though it had not yet found what it wanted, left him, continuing its circuit; as the stick approached Hamilton this time, the chanting became ever more frenzied, louder; it rang in the hut; “No!” she cried; the stick paused before her, quivering; “No!” she cried; then it passed her, but only a yard or so; the chanting had become less, more subdued; the stick turned back, to again look upon her; “No!” she wept. “No!” The stick stopped before her, quivering. “No!” she cried. The chanting was now wild, insistent, powerful, overwhelming, irresistible. No longer did the stick quiver. Hamilton looked upon it with horror. It pointed to her.
The tall, gaunt man cried out a single word; the chant stopped; the stick was again only a stick.
Two men seized Hamilton by the arms and, as she wept, head down, dragged her from the hut.
They thrust her into her kennel, with the ewes, the straw and Ugly Girl, and locked her within.
The next morning Hamilton was not permitted to leave the kennel with Ugly Girl for work. She was kept locked within. Throughout the morning, crouching inside, through a crack at the door, she looked out, into the compound. At noon the women came for her; the men were not with them; even the young, dark-haired girl, the beauty of the village, was with them; the younger women, under the direction of the older women, dour, and in cold fury, bound Hamilton’s wrists, crossed, above her head to a post; then the women of the village, with bundles of switches, lashed her; then they loosened her from the post and knelt her down; they then shaved her head with a bronze knife; the older women then fitted her with the wooden device, thrusting it deep in her and thonging it tightly in place, tying the knots behind the small of her back; when it was fixed in place one of the older women pointed to it and then, lifting a handful of switches, threatened her; Hamilton was not, under threat of punishment, to remove the device; it was hers to wear; she was then clothed in a long, straight dress of wool; it was sleeveless, but came to her ankles; she was then sent to the fields, under supervision, to dig in the sun; the dress was hers when out of the kennel; she would not wear it within the kennel, lest it be soiled; that evening, as a matter of precaution, on the decision of the older women, one of the wooden devices was also fastened within Ugly Girl; one of the men had been observed looking upon her; Ugly Girl, too, was fitted with one of the long, woolen garments, for use out of the kennel; her head was not shaved, however, nor was she beaten; Ugly Girl did not care for the long garment; it discomfited her muchly, more so than it did Hamilton; Ugly Girl had worn hitherto next to her skin only the soft freedoms of tanned hides and furs; the inhibiting, scratchy, hobbling skirt of the Dirt People, thought fit to conceal the bodies of females, their shames, disgusted her. Hamilton looked at her bloodied, cut head in a bowl of water, and wept; how ugly she was; one of the older women then poked her; that she be up and about her work, that she take her digging stick and go to the fields; the young, saucy girl with her flow of dark hair, waited to conduct her; Hamilton followed her guide to the fields; she walked with difficulty in the long, tight dress, with small steps, her body sore about the wooden device within her; the men did not look at her as she walked among them; once she passed the tall, gaunt man, now without the bronzed, horned mask; she did not lift her eyes to him; shamed, carrying her digging stick, she went to the fields.