western edge of the mountains, bringing with them the chill of the cold stone sky. Ras, his parents, andthe animals huddled around the central brick fireplace. They coughed when the wind blew down the chimney and spread the smoke through the hut. Yusufu hacked and swore; he spat in the fire, and the odor of burning saliva mingled with that of the smoke.
Ras was not as cold as the two old ones, since he had been used to sleeping outdoors even in winter with little covering. But he was shaking inwardly; the ice of the unknown and the threatening future was a lump in his belly.
"Where do the knives come from?" he said suddenly.
Yusufu growled and said, "We have told that tale a thousand of a thousand times, O witless."
"A thousand of a thousand lies," Ras said. He looked through the smoke at the old man's reddened and weeping eyes. "If the Devil is the Father of Lies, you are the Devil."
"And you are an impertinent, ungrateful, son. If you were not such an elephant, and I so enfeebled by my years and by the sickness brought about by worrying over you, I would thrash you until you howled louder than the storm."
The wind increased until it was a shrilling. Thunder boomed as if great pieces of the cliffs were falling off. Lightning smashed deafeningly nearby, and the smoky air was whitened. All three jumped.
Ras said with unconcealed sarcasm, "O mother, tell me again the story of how Igziyabher hurls knives to the earth, and every knife is a lightning stroke."
Mariyam looked up at him through the smoke with misery on her face. "O son, it is true. Would I, your mother, lie to you? When it storms, it is because Igziyabher is wrathful. Herages because His creations have been sinful, and He wishes to frighten them back into a state of grace. And sometimes He kills the especially sinful as an example to the others.
"You, my son, and it grieves me to say it, have been lying with the black women of the Wantso. Igziyabher does not like this."
Ras, panting with repressed rage, stood up, looked around, and then kicked the door with the flat of his foot so hard that the bamboo bar securing it broke. The door banged open outward. The wind and rain rushed in. Lightning exploded and whitened the air. Yusufu and Mariyam yelled in terror.
"I haven't been evil!" Ras shouted. "What have I done that nobody else does? Why should I suffer when Yusufu and the Wantso men and every male beast in the world have a female? Why?"
He shook his fist at the howling blackness outside. Mariyam screamed and ran to him and wrapped her tiny arms around his thigh.
"Igziyabher is saving a white woman for you! He wants you to take to wife a woman of your own kind. That is why He forbids you to whore around with those blacks!"
"And how do you know that Igziyabher has a white woman for me?" he bellowed. "Does He whisper His secrets to you?"
Mariyam, her brown, eaglish face upturned, clung fiercely to his leg.
"Trust me, my son! I know!"
"How do you know? When have you talked to Him?"
Tears ran down her cheeks, and she said, "Believe me, my son, I know!"
"Let loose of me, mother! I am going out there where Hecan see me, and I will dare Him to strike me! I haven't been evil! He is evil, because He wants to kill me for doing what He made me do."
Mariyam shrieked, released her hold, stepped back, and held her ears.
"I won't listen to such talk! He will kill you!"
Yusufu took a long drink from a goatskin bag. He wiped his lips and growled, "Let the simpleton go out and get struck down, Mariyam. It won't be your fault."
He took another drink of the wine, wiped his lips with the back of his hand, belched, and said, "It won't be Igziyabher's doing, either, if Ras gets killed. It'll be nothing but an accident caused by his foolishness."
"Shut your mouth, you...!" Mariyam yelled, but Ras did not hear the rest. He ran out into the rain and wind. He ran and ran toward the hills, slipping many times on the wet grass or mud and almost falling. By the frequent
Ras was not as cold as the two old ones, since he had been used to sleeping outdoors even in winter with little covering. But he was shaking inwardly; the ice of the unknown and the threatening future was a lump in his belly.
"Where do the knives come from?" he said suddenly.
Yusufu growled and said, "We have told that tale a thousand of a thousand times, O witless."
"A thousand of a thousand lies," Ras said. He looked through the smoke at the old man's reddened and weeping eyes. "If the Devil is the Father of Lies, you are the Devil."
"And you are an impertinent, ungrateful, son. If you were not such an elephant, and I so enfeebled by my years and by the sickness brought about by worrying over you, I would thrash you until you howled louder than the storm."
The wind increased until it was a shrilling. Thunder boomed as if great pieces of the cliffs were falling off. Lightning smashed deafeningly nearby, and the smoky air was whitened. All three jumped.
Ras said with unconcealed sarcasm, "O mother, tell me again the story of how Igziyabher hurls knives to the earth, and every knife is a lightning stroke."
Mariyam looked up at him through the smoke with misery on her face. "O son, it is true. Would I, your mother, lie to you? When it storms, it is because Igziyabher is wrathful. Herages because His creations have been sinful, and He wishes to frighten them back into a state of grace. And sometimes He kills the especially sinful as an example to the others.
"You, my son, and it grieves me to say it, have been lying with the black women of the Wantso. Igziyabher does not like this."
Ras, panting with repressed rage, stood up, looked around, and then kicked the door with the flat of his foot so hard that the bamboo bar securing it broke. The door banged open outward. The wind and rain rushed in. Lightning exploded and whitened the air. Yusufu and Mariyam yelled in terror.
"I haven't been evil!" Ras shouted. "What have I done that nobody else does? Why should I suffer when Yusufu and the Wantso men and every male beast in the world have a female? Why?"
He shook his fist at the howling blackness outside. Mariyam screamed and ran to him and wrapped her tiny arms around his thigh.
"Igziyabher is saving a white woman for you! He wants you to take to wife a woman of your own kind. That is why He forbids you to whore around with those blacks!"
"And how do you know that Igziyabher has a white woman for me?" he bellowed. "Does He whisper His secrets to you?"
Mariyam, her brown, eaglish face upturned, clung fiercely to his leg.
"Trust me, my son! I know!"
"How do you know? When have you talked to Him?"
Tears ran down her cheeks, and she said, "Believe me, my son, I know!"
"Let loose of me, mother! I am going out there where Hecan see me, and I will dare Him to strike me! I haven't been evil! He is evil, because He wants to kill me for doing what He made me do."
Mariyam shrieked, released her hold, stepped back, and held her ears.
"I won't listen to such talk! He will kill you!"
Yusufu took a long drink from a goatskin bag. He wiped his lips and growled, "Let the simpleton go out and get struck down, Mariyam. It won't be your fault."
He took another drink of the wine, wiped his lips with the back of his hand, belched, and said, "It won't be Igziyabher's doing, either, if Ras gets killed. It'll be nothing but an accident caused by his foolishness."
"Shut your mouth, you...!" Mariyam yelled, but Ras did not hear the rest. He ran out into the rain and wind. He ran and ran toward the hills, slipping many times on the wet grass or mud and almost falling. By the frequent
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