the child's neck and returned to
Hamid. I found him, with two spears in his hand, waiting for me.
He gave me one, and forth we set.

"The Berbalangs' village stands on a sort of table-land in the hills
which rise all the way to Mount Tebulian, near the centre of the island.
After the first two miles I found myself in strange country, and Hamid
kept silence and signed to me to do the same. In this way we sweated up
the slopes until, a little after noon, we reached a pass, and saw the
roofs of the village over the edge of a broad step, as it were, half a
mile above us. Here we sat down, and Hamid, drawing a couple of limes
from his pocket, explained that I must on no account taste any food the
Berbalangs set before us unless I first sprinkled it with lime juice.
It might look like curried fish, but would, as likely as not, be human
flesh disguised, the taste of which would destroy my soul and convert me
into a Berbalang; a touch of the lime juice would turn such food back to
its proper shape and show me what I was being asked to eat.

"We now moved forward again, very cautiously, and soon came to the
village. The houses, perhaps a dozen in all, were scandalously dirty,
otherwise pretty much like those in Hamid's own village. But not a
living creature could be seen. Hamid, I could tell, was puzzled, and
even a bit frightened. He put a good face on it, all the same, and
began to walk from house to house, keeping his spear handy as he peered
in at the doors. Still not a soul could we find, barring an old goat
tethered and a few roaming fowls. The stink of the place sickened us,
and I wanted to run, though we came across no actual horrors. In one
room we found a pan of rice lately boiled and still smoking, and
sprinkled it with lime juice. It remained good rice. Out into the
street we went, and Hamid, growing bolder, raised a loud halloo.
The noise of it sent the fowls scudding, and the hills around took it up
and echoed it.

"He looked at me. 'They must be out on the hunt,' said he.

"'Good Lord!' I gasped. 'And the child at home--without the pearl!'
I turned and plunged for it down the slope like a madman.

"What to do I had no idea; but I hadn't a doubt that the Berbalangs were
after Aoodya or the child, or both, and I headed for home with the wind
singing by my ears. At the foot of the pass I looked back. Hamid was
following, skipping from one lava stone to another at a pace that did
credit to his old