"Does the lady go with us, my father?" I asked of Billali, as he stood
superintending things in general.
He shrugged his shoulders as he answered--
"If she wills. In this country the women do what they please. We worship
them, and give them their way, because without them the world could not
go on; they are the source of life."
"Ah," I said, the matter never having struck me quite in that light
before.
"We worship them," he went on, "up to a point, till at last they get
unbearable, which," he added, "they do about every second generation."
"And then what do you do?" I asked, with curiosity.
"Then," he answered, with a faint smile, "we rise, and kill the old
ones as an example to the young ones, and to show them that we are the
strongest. My poor wife was killed in that way three years ago. It was
very sad, but to tell thee the truth, my son, life has been happier
since, for my age protects me from the young ones."
"In short," I replied, quoting the saying of a great man whose wisdom
has not yet lightened the darkness of the Amahagger, "thou hast found
thy position one of greater freedom and less responsibility.
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