Waniyanpi. There were about fifteen persons in the group, both men and women. I recognized Carrot and Cabbage.
'Turnip,' cried Radish, angrily, 'what are you doing, kneeling before a man? Get on your feet!'
'You do not yet have permission to rise,' I said.
'Yes, Master,' she said, happily.
'Get up!' said Radish.
'Apparently you did not hear,' I said. 'The slave has not yet recieved permission to rise.'
I folded my arms and regarded the insolent Radish.
Turnip, whose beauty could be conjecutred, even beneath the gray, rude garb of the Waniyanpi, lowered her head, humbly, her long, blond tresses hanging forward. She had once been the Lady Mira, of Venna, an agent of Kurii. Then she had fallen into the hands of red savages. She was now only a slave.
'Go away,' said Radish, angrily. 'There is no room here for you.'
'I would speak with a man,' I said. 'What man is in charge here?'
Radish reacte as though struck. 'I speak for all of us,' she said.
'Pumpkin,' I asked, 'is it you?' Are you leader here?'
'No, no,' said Pumpkin, quickly, looking down. 'There is no leader here. We are all Sames. We are all the same. There are no leaders. We are all the same. Peace, and light, and tranquillity, and contemtment and goodness, be unto you.'
'Sweetness be unto you,' said Carrot.
'Sweetness be unto you,' said Cabbage.
'You seem to me the natural leader here, Pumpkin,' I said.
'No,' he said, 'no, no.'
'You have surrendered your sovereignty?' I asked. 'This woman, then, is your leader?'
'There is no leader,' mumbled Pumpkin, not meeting my eyes. 'We are all Sames. We are all the same.'
'You, then,' I asked, viewing Radish, 'are the leader.'
'Perhaps,' she smiled.
'Radish is strong and forceful,' said Carrot.
'She is not the leader,' Cabbage assured me. 'It is only that we do whatever she says.'
'Is this true, Pumpkin?' I asked.
'We do whatever Radish tells u,' he said, again not meeting my eyes.
'We have a man here,' I said, indicating Hci, 'who is grievously, sorely, wounded. We need food and shelter.'
'Find it elsewhere,' said Radish.
'Pumpkin?' I asked.
He did not respond, but put down his head. This hurt me, for I had hoped that in Pumpkin, somewhere, perhaps deeply buried, was a man.
'Carrot?' I asked. 'Cabbage?'
'I am sorry,' said Carrot.
'It is not just you,' said Cabbage. 'Yesterday Radish even put two young people out of the compound, a young man and woman. She found them touching one another.'
'Terrible!' said one of the Waniyanpi women, though I do not think she believed it.
'Go away!' said Radish, pointing out over the prairie. 'Go!'
'No, Tatankasa, Mitakola,' said Cuwignaka, 'do not kill them!'
Radish drew back. My hand, in anger, had gone to the hilt of my sword.
'They banish even their own people,' said Cuwignaka.
'I am a woman,' said Radish, uncertainly.
'I thought you were a Same,' I said.
'Their blood is not worthy of your sword,' said Cuwignaka.
'Kill us if you wish,' said Pumpkin.
'We will not resist,' said Carrot.
'Resistance is violence, and violence is wrong,' said Cabbage.
'Aggresion must be met with love,' said Carrot.
'Conquerors have often found that a useful philosphy to encourage in subject peoples,' I said. I took my hand from the hilt of my sword.
'We need your aid,' I said to Radish.
'You may not have it,' she said, emboldened. 'Go away.'
I looked at the men. 'You are vile hypocries,' I said.
'No,' said Pumpkin, 'not really. It is only that we are Waniyanpi.'
'We do whatever Radish tells us,' said Carrot.
'Yes,' said Cabbage.
'You have surrendered your manhood,' I said. 'You are spineless weaklings.'
The men hung their heads.
'Let us go, Tatankasa,' said Cuwignaka, 'Mitakola.'
I looked at Pumpkin. He, of all of them, I had had hopes for.
'Pumpkin,' I said.
He lifted his head but then, again, put it down, not meeting my eyes.
'Come along, Mitakola,' said Cuwignaka.
'Get up, Turnip,' said Radish, angrily. 'You shame the Waniyanpi!'
'I have not yet been given permission to rise,' said Turnip.
'You are kneeling before a man!' screamed Radish. 'Get up!' I wondered what it was in Turnip's deferential attitude, in her postrue of submission, which so inflamed Radish.
'Yes,' said Turnip. 'I am kneeling before a man!'
'Get up!' screamed Radish.
Turnip turned to me, facing me. 'I kneel before you, Master,' she said. 'I incline my head to you, as a woman, and a slave.'
'Get up!' screamed Radish, beside herself with rage.
'I kiss and lick your feet, Master,' said Turnip.
There coursed through the women present, other than RAdish, a thrill of horor and pleasure. I heard several of them gasp.
Turnip knelt before me, the palms of her hands on the grass, her head down. I felt her lips and tongue, sweetly and softly, delicately, kissing and caressing my feet.
'You are cast out!' screamed Radish. 'You are out of the compound!'
Turnip paid Radish no attention. She lifted her head to me, and smiled.
'Take off the garb of Waniyanpi!' screamed Radish. 'You are not worthy of it!'
'You may rise,' I told Turnip.
Turnip rose to her feet and, over her head, drew off the dismal, gray dress he had worn.
Underneath the dress she was stark naked. She then stood before us, very straight and very beautiful. The women with the exception of Radish, looked upon her admiringly, thrilled that she was so beautiful. The men averted their eyes, frightened and shamed.
'Exercising the prerogative of any Kaiila warrior, over nay slave in a compound of the Kaiila,' said Cuwignaka, clearly and loudly, 'I now claim this woman as my personal slave.' He then regarded her. 'You are now my slave,' he said.
'Yes, Master,' she said. She knelt down swiftly and inclined her head to him. I was pleased to see that she did this quickly. She now understood that she was no longer a Waniyanpi slave but was under a man's discipline.
'And your use,' said Cuwignaka, pointing to me, 'is his.'
'Yes, Master,' she said, happily. As a slave myself, of course, I could own nothing, not even the collar I wore. On the other hand I could certainly have the use of a slave, who would then be to me as my own lsave, in
