Nickerson Haben was no longer a mystery to him.

He fastened up the paper to the red leg of the pigeon and flung it up into the hot air.

“‘Ware hawks, little friend of soldiers,” he said conventionally.

Linked very closely with the life and fate of Mr. Nickerson Haben, Under-Secretary of State (this he did not dream), was that of Agasaka, the Chimbiri woman. Mr. Haben was dressed by the best tailor in Savile Row; Agasaka wore no clothes at all except for the kilt of dried grass which hung from her beautiful waist.

A tall maiden, very slim of body and very grave of eyes, no lover for any man, having a great love for something more imponderable than man; terribly wise, too, in the ways of ghosts and devils; straight-backed, small-breasted, beloved of children, so strong in the arm and skilled in her strength that she could put a spear beyond the range of young men’s throw–this was Agasaka, the Chimbiri woman, daughter of N’kema–n’kimi, the dead woodman.

She was elderly for a virgin, being seventeen; had been wooed by men in their every mood; had kindness for all, generosity for none.

She lived with her brother, M’suru, the hunting man; and his women hated her, for she never spoke a lie and was frank to her elderly brother on the matter of their numerous lovers. They would have beaten her, but that they knew the strength of her throwing arm. Where hands did not dare, tongues were more reckless, but none of their mud stuck. Few men were so poor in mind that they would admit others had succeeded where they had failed.

She had lived for many years with her father in the deep of the forest in the abiding place of M’shima–M’shamba, the fearfully boisterous devil who tears up trees with each hand, whilst his mouth drips molten fire; and other mighty ones dwelt near by. N’guro, the headless dog, and Chikahika–m’bofunga, the eater of moons–indeed, all except the Fire Lizard, whose eyes talk death. And N’kema had taught her the mysteries of life and the beginning of life and the ground where life is sown. She knew men in their rawness and in their strength. N’kema taught her the way in which she might be more wonderful than any other woman; the magic handed down from mouth to mouth–the magic which was old when they laid the first deep stones of the Pyramids…

Men were afraid of her; even Oboro, the witch-doctor, avoided her.

For this was her strangest magic: that she had the power to bring before the eyes of men and women that which they desired least to see.

Once, a small chief stalked her by the river path where the grass is chin-high, having certain plans with her. And at the right and lonely moment he slipped from cover, dropping his spears in the grass, and caught her by the arms so that, strong as she was, she could not move.

“Agasaka,” he said, “I have a hut in this forest that has never heard a woman’s voice–“

He got so far and then, over her silken shoulder, he saw three black leopards walking flank by flank along the narrow path. Their heads hung low, their golden eyes shone hungrily.

In an instant he released her and fled to his spears.

When he turned again, leopards and woman were gone.

Aliki, the huntsman of her village, neither feared nor cared, for he was familiar with magics of all kinds and often walked in the woods communing with devils. One night he saw a vision in the fire, a great red lizard that blinked its heavy eyelids. Aliki looked round his family circle in a cold-blooded search for a victim. Calichi, the fire lizard, is the most benevolent of devils and will accept a deputy for the man or woman to whom, with its red and blinking eyes, it has given its warning of death.

This Aliki saw his three wives and his father and an uncle who had come many days’ journey on a hunting trip and none of these, save the youngest wife, was well enough favoured for the purpose. Calichi is a fastidious devil; nothing short of the best and the most beautiful will please him. Beyond the group sitting about the red fire and eating from the big pot that stood in the embers, were other groups. The village street of Chimbiri–Isisi runs from the forest to the river, a broad avenue fringed with huts; and before each hut burnt a fire, and about each fire squatted the men and women of the house.

Dark had come; above the tall gum trees the sky was encrusted with bright stars that winked and blinked as Calichi, but more rapidly.

Aliki saw the stars, and rubbed his palms in the dust for luck; and at that moment into his vision came the second wife of his neighbour, a tall woman of eighteen, a nymph carved in mahogany, straight and supple of back, naked to the waistline of her grass skirt. And Aliki knew that he had found a proper substitute and said her name under his breath as he caught the lizard’s eyes. Thereupon the beast faded and died away, and Aliki knew that the fire–god approved his choice.

Later that night, when Loka, the wife of M’suru the huntsman, went down to the river to draw water for the first wife’s needs, Aliki intercepted her.

“There is nobody so beautiful as you, Loka,” he said, “for you have the legs of a lion and the throat of a young deer.”

He enumerated other physical perfections, and Loka laughed and listened. She had quarrelled that day with the first wife of her husband, and M’suru had beaten her. She was terribly receptive to flattery and ripe for such adventure as women enjoy.

“Have you no wives, Aliki?” she asked, pleased. “Now I will give you Agasaka, the sister of my husband, who is very beautiful and has never touched the shoulder of a man.” This she said in spite, for she hated Agasaka, and it is a way of women to praise, to strangers, the qualities of the sisters they loathe.

“As to Agasaka–and wives”–he made a gesture of contempt–“there is no such wife as you, not even in the hut of the old king beyond the mountains, which are the end of the world,” said Aliki, and Loka laughed again.

“Now I know that you are mad, as M’suru says. Also that you see strange sights which are not there to see,” she said in her deep, sighing voice. “And not M’suru alone, but all men, say that you have the sickness mango.”

It was true that Aliki was sick and had shooting pains in his head. He saw other things than lizards.

“M’suru is an old man and a fool,” he said. “I have a ju-ju who gives me eyes to see wonders. Come with me into the forest, Loka, and I will tell you magic and give you love such as an old man cannot give.”

She put down her gourd, hiding it in a patch of elephant grass near the river’s edge, and walked behind him into the forest. There, eventually, he killed her. And he lit a fire and saw the lizard, who seemed satisfied. Aliki cashed himself in the river and went back to his hut and to sleep.

When he awoke in the morning he was sorry he had killed Loka, for of all the women in the world she had been most beautiful in his eyes. The village was half empty, for Loka’s gourd had been found and trackers had gone into the woods searching for her.