may be trustful that I shall return. And, master, good-bye, I take leave of you; I start and go away."
And he said, "Well then, go." The gazelle ran out, and the poor man ran from inside and stood in the yard. And the gazelle ran faster and faster. And the poor man was struck with astonishment, and tears started from him. And that poor man made one cry—"Oh, my mother!" with his hands to his head. And he made a second cry—"Oh, my father!" And he made a third cry—"Oh! my gazelle, it has run away!"
The neighbours who were there came and groaned at him, and said, "You fool, you idiot, you dissipated fellow! you have staid on the dustheap many many days, you scratched like a hen till God gave you that eighth, and you could not buy muhogo and eat it, you bought a gazelle; then you have let it go; what are you crying about, as if you were crying for one lost for ever?"
And he held his peace, comforting himself. And the poor man arose and went away, and went there by his dustheap, and got some grains of mtama, and returned to his house; and it seemed desolate to him.
And when sunset was over his gazelle came. And the poor man was very glad. "God sets you up. Ah! you are come, father."
And it said, "Is not this the promise I gave you?" And it said, "I feel that for you the eighth you bought me with is a hundred thousand out of your goods. And I feel it a loss that you should take your hundred thousand, and go and give them to other people, if I run away from you. I went away into the forest, and if any one goes and snares me, or in like manner any one comes and shoots me with a gun, another man has got me. Well, then, whatever trouble takes me, why should I grieve you? I cannot. If I go and get myself something, in the evening let me come and sleep."
