caption: |
Chapter Twenty-one. Head-Hunting Rites |
caption: |
woken by Shankok and Wakching friends; splitting up heads |
text: |
In my sleep I hear voices in front of my door and, dragging myself out of bed and stepping into the open, I find myself in the midst of my Wakching friends. Shankok is the first to greet me, and there is Dzeamang and many others whose faces I know, but whose names I cannot for the moment remember. |
text: |
"We have spent the whole night on the way, Sahib; we heard yesterday evening that you were coming, and we set out immediately with torches. We were not even afraid of the tigers in the Dikhu valley." |
text: |
"But in any case I would have brought you the heads. . . ." |
text: |
"No, Sahib, that is not the same thing; we ourselves must bring in the heads, as if we were coming from a real raid." |
text: |
"I see; but shall we divide up the heads here?" |
text: |
"Yes, yes, Sahib. . . I want a bit. . . and I -- you promised me a piece. . . and me too!" |
text: |
"Sahib, don't give everything to the Wakching people; we are from Namsang and we also want a piece." |
text: |
"We are from Wanching -- Sahib, Sahib -- a piece for Wanching." There is a turmoil of voices, shouting against each other, for boys have come from all the neighbouring villages. |
text: |
"Now peace! Don't shout all together, and let's sit down and divide up the heads." |
text: |
I take the heavy dao Chingmak gave me in Chingmei, and set (166) to work. Never had I thought it could be so difficult to hack up a skull. |