Even worse, in high priestly sacrilege, he encouraged Jerry to attack a megapode hen in the act of laying.  And, while Jerry slew it, knowing that the lust of killing, once started, would lead him to continue killing the silly birds, Agno left the laying-yard to hot-foot it through the mangrove swamp and present to Bashti an ecclesiastical quandary.  The taboo of the dog, as he expounded it, had prevented him from interfering with the taboo dog when it ate the taboo egg-layers.  Which taboo might be the greater was beyond him.  And Bashti, who had not tasted a megapode egg in half a year, and who was keen for the one recrudescent thrill of remote youth still left to him, led the way back across the mangrove swamp at so prodigious a pace as quite to wind his high priest who was many years younger than he.

And he arrived at the laying-yard and caught Jerry, red-pawed and red-mouthed, in the midst of his fourth kill of an egg-layer, the raw yellow yolk of the portion of one egg, plastered by Agno to represent many eggs, still about his eyes and above his eyes to the bulge of his forehead.  In vain Bashti looked about for one egg, the six months’ hunger stronger than ever upon him in the thick of the disaster.  And Jerry, under the consent and encouragement of Agno, wagged his tail to Bashti in a bid for recognition, of prowess, and laughed with his red-dripping jowls and yellow plastered eyes.

Bashti did not rage as he would have done had he been alone.  Before the eyes of his chief priest he disdained to lower himself to such commonness of humanity.  Thus it is always with those in the high places, ever temporising with their natural desires, ever masking their ordinariness under a show of disinterest.  So it was that Bashti displayed no vexation at the disappointment to his appetite.  Agno was a shade less controlled, for he could not quite chase away the eager light in his eyes.  Bashti glimpsed it and mistook it for simple curiosity of observation not guessing its real nature.  Which goes to show two things of those in the high place:  one, that they may fool those beneath them; the other, that they may be fooled by those beneath them.

Bashti regarded Jerry quizzically, as if the matter were a joke, and shot a careless side glance to note the disappointment in his priest’s eyes.  Ah, ha, thought Bashti; I have fooled him.

“Which is the high taboo?” Agno queried in the Somo tongue.

“As you should ask.  Of a surety, the megapode.”

“And the dog?” was Agno’s next query.

“Must pay for breaking the taboo.  It is a high taboo.  It is my taboo.  It was so placed by Somo, the ancient father and first ruler of all of us, and it has been ever since the taboo of the chiefs.  The dog must die.”

He paused and considered the matter, while Jerry returned to digging the sand where the scent was auspicious.  Agno made to stop him, but Bashti interposed.