Presently the herbs began to smoulder, and the smoke of them rose up in a thin, straight stream, that, striking upon the face of the Bee, clung about her head enveloping it as though with a strange blue veil.  Then of a sudden she stretched out her hands, and let fall the two locks of hair upon the burning herbs, where they writhed themselves to ashes like things alive.  Next she opened her mouth, and began to draw the fumes of the hair and herbs into her lungs in great gulps; while the snake, feeling the influence of the medicine, hissed and, uncoiling itself from about her neck, crept upwards and took refuge among the black saccaboola feathers of her head-dress.

Soon the vapours began to do their work; she swayed to and fro muttering, then sank back against the hut, upon the straw of which her head rested.  Now the Bee’s face was turned upwards towards the light, and it was ghastly to behold, for it had become blue in colour, and the open eyes were sunken like the eyes of one dead, whilst above her forehead the red snake wavered and hissed, reminding Hadden of the Uraeus crest on the brow of statues of Egyptian kings.  For ten seconds or more she remained thus, then she spoke in a hollow and unnatural voice:—­

“O Black Heart and body that is white and beautiful, I look into your heart, and it is black as blood, and it shall be black with blood.  Beautiful white body with black heart, you shall find your game and hunt it, and it shall lead you into the House of the Homeless, into the Home of the Dead, and it shall be shaped as a bull, it shall be shaped as a tiger, it shall be shaped as a woman whom kings and waters cannot harm.  Beautiful white body and black heart, you shall be paid your wages, money for money, and blow for blow.  Think of my word when the spotted cat purrs above your breast; think of it when the battle roars about you; think of it when you grasp your great reward, and for the last time stand face to face with the ghost of the dead in the Home of the Dead.

“O White Heart and black body, I look into your heart and it is white as milk, and the milk of innocence shall save it.  Fool, why do you strike that blow?  Let him be who is loved of the tiger, and whose love is as the love of a tiger.  Ah! what face is that in the battle?  Follow it, follow it, O swift of foot; but follow warily, for the tongue that has lied will never plead for mercy, and the hand that can betray is strong in war.  White Heart, what is death?  In death life lives, and among the dead you shall find the life you lost, for there awaits you she whom kings and waters cannot harm.”

As the Bee spoke, by degrees her voice sank lower and lower till it was almost inaudible.  Then it ceased altogether and she seemed to pass from trance to sleep.  Hadden, who had been listening to her with an amused and cynical smile, now laughed aloud.

“Why do you laugh, White Man?” asked Nahoon angrily.

“I laugh at my own folly in wasting time listening to the nonsense of that lying fraud.”