Nor did the witch-physicianess say anything; she only fixed her beadyeyes upon his face. Hadden returned the compliment, staring at herwith all his might, till suddenly he became aware that he wasvanquished in this curious duel. His mind grew confused, and to hisfancy it seemed that the woman before him had shifted shape into thelikeness of colossal and horrid spider sitting at the mouth of hertrap, and that these bones were the relics of her victims.

"Why do you not speak, White Man?" she exclaimed at last in a sluggish clearvoice. "Well, there is no need, since I can read your thoughts. Youare thinking that I who am called the Bee should be better named theSpider. Have no fear; I did not kill these men. What would it profitme when the dead are so many? I suck the souls of men, not theirbodies, White Man. It is their living hearts I love to look on, fortherein I read much and thereby I grow wise. Now what would you of theBee, White Man, the Bee that labours in this Garden of Death, and--what brings /you/ here, son of Zomba? Why are you not with the Umcityunow that they physician themselves for the great war--the last war--thewar of the black and the black--or if you have no stomach forfighting, why are you not at the side of Nanea the tall, Nanea thefair?"