So I just folded my arms and, looking up at him, said-- "Why, Black Man ?" "Because your face is white," he roared.
"No," I answered, "because your heart is black and your eyes are so full of blood that you do not know Macumazahn when you see him." "Wow!" said one, "it is Watcher-by-Night whom our fathers knew before us.

Leave him alone." "No," shouted the great fellow, "I will send him to watch where it is always night, I who keep a club for white rats," and he brandished his stick over me.
Now my temper rose.

Watching my opportunity, I stretched out my right foot and hooked him round the ankle, at the same time striking up with all my force.

My fist caught him beneath the chin and over he went backwards sprawling on the ground.
"Son of a dog!" I said, "if a single stick touches me, at least you shall go first," and whipping out my revolver, I pointed it at him.
He lay quiet enough, but how the matter would have ended I do not know, for passion was running high, had not Goza at this moment risen with a bleeding nose and called out-- "O Fools, would you kill the king's guest to whom the king himself has given safe-conduct.

Surely you are pots full of beer, not men." "Why not ?" answered one.