[The Yellow God by H. Rider Haggard]@TWC D-Link book
The Yellow God

CHAPTER XIII
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THE FEAST OF LITTLE BONSA It was the night of full moon and of the great feast of the return of Little Bonsa.

Alan sat in his chamber waiting to be summoned to take part in this ceremony and listening the while to that _Wow! Wow! Wow!_ of the death drums, whereof Jeekie had once spoken in England, which could be clearly heard even above the perpetual boom of the cataract tumbling down its cliff behind the town.

By now he had recovered from the fatigue of his journey and his health was good, but the same could not be said of his spirits, for never in his life had he felt more downhearted, not even when he was sickening for blackwater fever, or lay in bondage in the City, expecting every morning to wake up and find his reputation blasted.

He was a prisoner in this dreadful, gloomy place where he must live like a second Man in the Iron Mask, without recreation or exercise other than he could find in the walled garden where grew the black cedar trees, and, so far as he could see, a prisoner without hope of escape.
Moreover, he could no longer disguise from himself the truth; Jeekie was right.

The Asika had fallen in love with him, or at any rate made up her mind that he should be her next husband.


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