er, and on
the road she told him all she intended to do and say in disposing of her
produce in exchange for other articles which she needed in her home.
Her dog listened with sympathy, and then, in his own manner, he conveyed
to her how great was his attachment to her, and how there never was such
a friend as he could be; and he begged her that, if at any time she was
in distress, she would tell him, and that he would serve her with all
his might. "Only," he said, "were it not that I am afraid of the
effects of being too clever, I could have served you oftener and much
more than I have done."
"What do you mean?" said Kitinda.
"Well, you know, among the Basoko, it is supposed, if one is too clever,
or too lucky, or too rich, that it has come about through dealings in
witchcraft, and people are burned in consequence. I do not like the
idea of being burned--and therefore I have refrained often from
assisting you because I feared you could not contain your surprise, and
would chat about it to the villagers. Then some day, after some really
remarkable act of cleverness of mine, people would say, `Ha! this is not
a dog. No dog could have done that! He must be a demon--or a witch in
a dog's hide!' and of course they would take me and burn me."
"Why, how very unkind of you to think such things of me! When have I
chatted about you? Indeed I have too many things to do, my housework,
my planting and marketing so occupy me, that I could not find time to
gossip about my dog."
"Well, it is already notorious that I am clever, and I often tremble
when strangers look at and admire me for fear some muddle-headed fellow
will fancy that he sees something else in me more than unusual
intelligence. What would they say, however, if they really knew how
very sagacious I am? The reputation that I possess has only come
through your affection for me, but I assure you that I dread this excess
of affection lest it should end fatally for you and for me."
"But are you so much cleverer than you have already shown yourself? If
I promise that I will never speak of you to any person again, will you
help me more than you have done, if I am in distress?"
"You are a woman, and you could not prevent yourself talking if you
tried ever so hard."
"Now, look you here, my dog. I vow to you that no matter what you do
that is strange, I wish I may die, and that the first animal I meet may
kill me if I speak a word. You shall see now that
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