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The oasis, now reeking of desolation far more than did the upper country when Tumwah descended upon it, had been deprived of its attractiveness and Warruk lost no time in leaving it. He followed the little watercourse straight to the marsh. And there new experiences awaited him. The borders of the reed-dotted water were flecked with white. That much he saw from a distance.
And this was on the very night following the gathering of the Indians when Choflo, headman, had announced that the wrath of Tumwah, God of Drought, was about to descend upon the land. The crocodile had been slain by the hunters and its skin removed with much ceremony. The head, with its leering expression and long rows of peg-like teeth was raised on a pole in the center of the encampment.
It was several hours before the terrified Indians dared leave the security of their shelters and then only at the imperious summons of Choflo's voice. Three fires were hastily kindled and between them the council sat feeling sure that neither beast nor demon would dare brave the blazing barrier. "Again our offering has been spurned by Tumwah," Choflo moaned, "and now I know the reason why.
The terrible god has sent a Black Phantom from the lower world to haunt us and to render our lives more miserable. Dark and filled with forebodings is the season that has descended upon us." His hearers rocked to and fro and smote their breasts in unison with the sorcerer. "We must bring a greater sacrifice. Twenty turtles must be offered to Tumwah.
There were the teeth of crocodiles, pebbles worn round and smooth in the riverbed and a tuft of snowy feathers taken from the shoulders of a luckless egret. Finally he arose and raising his hands commanded all to be silent. "Tumwah has not been pleased with our offering. He is more angry than before," he announced in a sepulchral voice. "My magic tells me so.
"Speak, Agoo, are these tidings true?" Oomah asked. "There is even more. Scarcely had Choflo died than a blanket of dark clouds rolled across the heavens and rain fell throughout the night. Tumwah had been appeased. We are saved. The earth is saved. And you, Oomah, shall be rewarded and honored above all men." The Patocos stood about in a spell-bound group.
He wore an anklet of dried seeds that rattled above his right foot; as he stepped over the sand in rhythm with the music of a wind instrument made of a long-necked calabash, and the thrumming of a snake-skin drum played by two assistants, he called upon Tumwah to look down upon them and to pity their unhappy plight.
It roars at night so that the sound of its voice may be heard a distance of a full day's travel and it slays on sight but does not devour the men it kills." The hearers drew closer together. They were too interested for speech. "It is said that the terrible monster is a phantom, sent by Tumwah, God of Drought to punish us for our evil deeds. It takes the form of the tiger but of a black color.
But, there was that insistent urge that bade him advance. And, too, Tumwah was stretching his devastating hand toward the lower country. The animals that had found a temporary refuge in the oasis were moving onward also, for the water in the pools was vanishing and the vegetation began to droop. Day by day the sun's rays grew more intense until it seemed they must set the world afire.
"If this youth speaks truly, why has not the rain fallen here?" one asked. "Our yuca fields are parched and the animals of the forest are disappearing. Soon we will die of starvation." "I have spoken the truth," Agoo persisted. Then, pointing to the sky with both hands, he begged "Tumwah, send the rain-clouds here too. They do not believe that the Black Phantom has been slain.
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