the parentsof his prospective woman has been refused, thus plunging him into despair, untilwith roars of laughter, he is informed that it has been accepted. This type ofthing, incidentally, does not count, culturally, as a violation of truthtelling, a practice which the red savages take with great seriousness. Gambling,too, is of interest to the savages. Common games are lots, dice and stoneguessing. Betting, too, may take place in connection with such things as thefall of arrows, and the appearance and movements of animals, particularly birds.
Kaiila races, perhaps needless to say, are very popular. An entire village islikely to turn out to watch such a race. What was going on, further, could notbe clearly understood unless it is understood that the Dust Legs knew andrespected, and liked, Grunt. Such a game they would not have played with astranger. Theoretically, one supposes, a high bid might be made on what layconcealed beneath the hide and then the hide, the bid accepted, might bewithdrawn to reveal a wench as ugly as a tharlarion, but the Dust Legs knew, inthe practical context, that Grunt would not do this to them. They understood, inthe context, that he would be sure to put something not only good, but verygood, beneath that hide. Similarly, since bids are almost always lower on anunseen commodity, he would be, in effect, making them a gift. The Dust Legrefused, with great drama, to go higher than two hides for what lay beneath thehide. Grunt, he made it clear, must now either accept or reject that offer. Itwas, of course, accepted, and Grunt, with some flair, threw off the hide.
Margaret, suddenly exposed, cried out with fear. She blinked against the lightand made herself, lying on her side, as small as possible. Curled naked on thegrass, revealed, terrified, owned, she was exquisite. The two friends of theDust Leg shouted out with pleasure and, striking him about the shoulders andback, congratulated him on his good fortune. Margaret cringed at their feet. TheDust Leg, more than pleased, tried to get Grunt to accept at least one extrahide for the girl, but this, of course, Grunt magnanimously refused to do. Abargain struck was, after all, a bargain to be adhered to. He was, after all,was he not, a merchant? Margaret was jerked to her knees and the Dust Leg tiedhis beaded collar on her throat. He then bound her small wrists tightly beforeher body with a long thong and, pulling her to her feet, led her away, by thefree end of the thong, followed by his friends, to his kaiila.
'They are very pleased,' I said to Grunt.
'I think so,' he said.
We watched the Dust Legs mounting up now, most of them, both men and women,preparing to take their leave. Ulla and Lenna were now on their feet, theirhands still tied behind their backs, their neck thongs tied to the high,decorative pommels of their masters' saddles. Their masters regarded them. Theythen slapped the girls' naked flanks with possessive pleasure, as though theymight have been kaiila. They then climbed to theft saddles, leaving the girlsafoot, naked, neck-thonged, near theft stirrups. The girls looked up at theirmasters with fear and then, as the kaiila moved, hurried along beside the loftyanimals, the grass to their thighs. I had little doubt but what they would soonbe taught their duties, both those outside the lodge and those within it. I thensaw Margaret, looking wildly over her shoulder, being drawn along, by the thongon her wrists, at the side of her own master's beast. She, too, would doubtlesssoon receive instruction on the modalities of pleasure and service to be exactedby a red master of a female slave, and one who was merely white.
We watched the Dust Legs moving away, across the grasses.
'It was a good trading,' I said.
'I think so,' said Grunt. 'We were all, I think, well satisfied.'
'Do you think the two fellows with Ulla and Lenna are sufficiently pleased?' Iasked. 'You did, it seems, maneuver them to some extent.'
'I do not think they minded being maneuvered,' he said. 'Did you not see howthey struck the girls on their flanks, so possessively, so pride fully, sogood-naturedly? They are more than enough pleased to have such girls on theirtethers, to lead them home, to add them in with their kaiila and other stock.'
'You are right,' I said.
'Take this one to the stream,' he said, indicating the dark-haired girl we hadacquired for the three hatchets, she lying on the grass near us, 'and see thatshe has a bath.'
'I will,' I said. 'What are you going to do?'
'We will make camp here,' he said.
'Here?' I asked.
'There is water nearby,' he said, 'and wood.'
'You are going to stay for a time at the trading point?' I asked. This puzzledme. This was the last trading point in the territory of the Dust Legs. It didnot seem to me likely that more Dust Legs were to be expected, certainly not forsome time. I myself was anxious to move eastward.
'For tonight,' he said.
'We could make five pasangs before dark,' I said.
'We will camp here tonight,' he said.
'Very well,' I said.
He went over to the girl lying in the grass. 'Womnaka, Amomona,' he said.
'Womnaka, Wicincala.'
'Ho, Itancanka. Ho, Wicayuhe,' she said.
'She speaks Dust Leg,' he said. 'She then will also be conversant with Kaiila.
These are two closely related languages, or, better, two dialects of a singlelanguage. Fleer is also related to them, but more remotely.'
'She responded to your commands earlier,' I said. 'She must know Gorean, too.'
'Do you speak Gorean?' he asked. She might, after all, know only certaincommands, much as might a sleen.
'Yes, Master,' she said.
'I shall attend to the camp,' said Grunt, looking about. 'See that she has abath at the stream.'
'All right,' I said.
'Do not hurry with her,' he said. 'There is no hurry in returning.'
'All right,' I said. Grunt was looking about, scanning the surroundinggrasslands. Then he went to the coffle, where Ginger was waiting. He would freecertain of the girls and set them about their duties. We would make camp, itseemed, early this day.
I looked down at the girl at my feet. She looked up at me. I kicked her. Shewinced. 'On your hands and knees,' I said.
'Yes, Master,' she said.
I indicated to her the direction of the stream.
'Yes, Master,' she said.
She would crawl to it. She was a slave.
'You whipped me well,' she smiled, kneeling in the shallow stream, pouring wateron her body.
'You whip well,' I commended her.
'Thank you, Master,' she said.
The sexually responsive woman whips well. This is probably a function of thehigh degree of her skin sensitivity and the depth and vulnerability of herfeelings, tier sensitivity and responsiveness make her peculiarly helpless underthe lash. She who writhes best under the lash, so say the Goreans, writhes bestin the furs.
'The water,' I said, 'has wrought quite a transformation in you.' She was now,substantially, cleaned. Most of the dust and blood, the grime, the dirt andsweat, had been washed away. Her dark hair, wet now, seemed very dark, veryshiny. She knelt in the water, removing tangles and snarls from her hair.
'No longer, at least,' she said, 'Am I womnaka.'
'What is that?' I asked.
'Master does not speak Dust Leg or Kaiila?' she asked.
'No,' I said.
'It is something which exudes much odor,' she laughed.
'What did Grunt, who is your master, the fellow in the broad-brimmed hat, callyou? I asked.
'Wicincala',' she said, 'which means 'Girl', and 'Amomona', which means 'Baby' or 'Doll'.'
'I see,' I said. I myself prefer the application of such expressions not toslaves, but to pretentious free women, to remind them that they, in spite oftheir freedom, are only women. They are useful, by the way, in making a freewoman uneasy, their use suggesting to her that perhaps the male is consideringshortly enslaving
