and saw that what he led at the end of the tether was not a goat but a heavy log of
wood."
"Do you think a thief can do that kind of thing single-handed?" asked Nwankwo.
"No," said Obierika. "They use medicine."
When they had cut the goats' throats and collected the blood in a bowl, they held
them over an open fire to burn off the hair, and the smell of burning hair blended with
the smell of cooking. Then they washed them and cut them up for the women who
prepared the soup.
All this anthill activity was going smoothly when a sudden interruption came. It
was a cry in the distance: oji odu aru ijiji-o-o! (The one that uses its tail to drive flies
away!). Every woman immediately abandoned whatever she was doing and rushed out
in the direction of the cry.
"We cannot all rush out like that, leaving what we are cooking to burn in the
fire," shouted Chielo, the priestess. "Three or four of us should stay behind."
"It is true," said another woman. "We will allow three or four women to stay
behind."
Five women stayed behind to look after the cooking-pots, and all the rest rushed
away to see the cow that had been let loose. When they saw it they drove it back to its
owner, who at once paid the heavy fine which the village imposed on anyone whose
cow was let loose on his neighbors' crops. When the women had exacted the penalty
they checked among themselves to see if any woman had failed to come out when the
cry had been raised.
"Where is Mgbogo?" asked one of them.
"She is ill in bed," said Mgbogo's next-door neighbour. "She has iba."
"The only other person is Udenkwo," said another woman, "and her child is not
twenty-eight days yet."