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Updated: September 6, 2025
It is my taboo. It was so placed by Somo, the ancient father and first ruler of all of us, and it has been ever since the taboo of the chiefs. The dog must die." He paused and considered the matter, while Jerry returned to digging the sand where the scent was auspicious. Agno made to stop him, but Bashti interposed. "Let be," he said. "Let the dog convict himself before my eyes."
The unbending of Agno, thus to lead him, was a surprise and a delight to Jerry, who, without reasoning about it, in a vague way felt the preliminary sensations that possibly Agno, in a small way, might prove the master which his dog's soul continually sought.
But Agno was a chill-blooded philosopher and bided his time, being different from Jerry in that he possessed human prevision and could adjust his actions to remote ends. From the edge of the lagoon, into the waters of which, remembering the crocodile taboo he had learned on Meringe, he never ventured, Jerry ranged to the outlying bush villages of Bashti's domain. All made way for him.
Yet, had he not done this, Jerry, who ate his food and who was growing accustomed to changing his masters, would have accepted Nalasu for master. Further, it was fairly definite in Jerry's mind, after the devil devil doctor's tying him and flinging him amongst the other helpless dogs on the killing-ground, that all mastership of Agno had ceased.
The matter was at a deadlock when Bashti chanced upon the scene and stood listening. "Take the dog, Nalasu," he said finally. "It is a good pig, and I shall myself eat it." "But he has broken the taboo, your great taboo of the laying-yard, and must go to the eating," Agno interposed quickly. Too quickly, Bashti thought, while a vague suspicion arose in his mind of he knew not what.
The eleven-years' maid might have placed a bid for Jerry's affection, had she not been deterred at the start by Agno, who reprimanded her sternly for presuming to touch or fondle a dog of such high taboo.
"The taboo must be paid in blood and cooking," Agno continued. "Very well," said Bashti. "I shall eat the small pig. Let its throat be cut and its body know the fire." "I but speak the law of the taboo. Life must pay for the breaking." "There is another law," Bashti grinned. "Long has it been since ever Somo built these walls that life may buy life."
At the first stream pouring down between the low hills of the rising land, he paused and put Jerry down to drink. And Jerry knew only the delight of the wet coolness on his tongue, all about his mouth, and down his throat. Nevertheless, in his subconsciousness was being planted the impression that, kinder than Lamai, than Agno, than Bashti, this was the kindest black he had encountered in Somo.
As you all know, by the looking, never have I sprouted one fin out of my backbone. Nalasu, take the dog. Aga, carry the pig to my house. I shall eat it to-day. Agno, let the killing of the dogs begin so that the canoe-men shall eat at due time." Then, as he turned to go, he lapsed into beche-de-mer English and flung sternly over his shoulder, "My word, you make 'm me cross along you."
For that matter, Agno had never tried to win him. Nor, in his cold-blooded way, had he ever betrayed his hatred of Jerry. Not even the several old women, the two acolytes, and the fly-flapping maid in Agno's house dreamed that the devil devil doctor hated Jerry. Nor did Jerry dream it. To him Agno was a neutral sort of person, a person who did not count.
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