herself upon him, striking him with her small fists. But both her wrists were caught. She struggled, squirming, held, pitting her woman’s strength against his. I feared for her. Did she not know the danger in which she stood? What if the master found her behavior displeasing? He held her until she stopped struggling, knowing herself helpless. He then released her, and indicated that she should precede him to the shore. But she disobeyed. She spun about, suddenly, to plunge away, into the river, to swim, but her pursuer was too close to her. He seized her by an ankle, and drew her to him, and then seized her hair and forced her head under the water. Her small hands were helpless on his wrist. I feared he would drown her. Then, after a time, he pulled her head up, out of the water, and she looked at him, turning her head as she could, sputtering, coughing, water in her eyes, his hand tight in her hair, gasping for breath. “No!” she begged, as her head was again forced under the water. Again, I feared she would be drowned. The next time he drew her head up, free of the water, he released her hair. They stood in the water, she half bent over, looking at one another. He then gestured toward the shore, as he had before, and this time she, head down, frightened, obedient, waded to the shore. Shortly thereafter, approaching from the east, I saw Hiza, the upper part of her body wrapped in a slave net, stumbling toward the camp. Behind her there were two men, one of whom was prodding her to greater haste with the butt of a hunting spear. Mila, Tula, and I had been, I am sure, in the first moment or two, as startled, and frightened as the mistresses, the woman’s cries, the men like rapid shadows amongst the trees, moving toward us. Two of us had screamed. I fear I was one of these. The other may have been unable to make a sound. We had spun about, to our right, confused, in alarm, trying to discern what was occurring, our burdens tumbled away. Surely it was natural for us, then, desperate and frightened, in our consternation, to wish to withdraw from what it might be, not clearly understood, so menacing, that was rushing upon us, but we were in our neck rope. Tula tried to dart away, but was held to us. Mila and I were jerked from our feet, and Tula, too, fell. We were tangled with one another. I feared I might be choked. Tula sprang to her feet. Mila and I, too, leaped to our feet. All of us were looking about, wildly. The rope was on our neck. How could we run? Which direction might we run? Where could we run? Confused, frightened, looking about, we knew not what to do. Our first impulse had been to run, but we had impeded our own efforts. Did we think we could slip the neck loops? But how foolish it would have been, too, to try to flee. Did we not know what we were, that we were kajirae, only kajirae, roped domestic animals? But when things occur suddenly one has no time to reflect. I doubt that any animal would have behaved much differently from how we did. But then, almost immediately, Tula, wild-eyed, looking about, a rope burn on her neck, turned to us. “We are fools,” she said, falling to her knees. “Kneel!” she hissed. We then knelt, as befitted what we were. “It is not Panther Women,” said Mila, observing the pandemonium in the camp about us. “It is men!” “Yes, men, men!” said Tula. “They will know what to do with us!” “We must obey with perfection,” said Mila. “They will have it so,” said Tula, joyfully. I was frightened, seeing strange men in the camp. Yet I knew that as slaves we belonged to men; it was men who were our appropriate masters.
Tuza, weaponless, had been put to her belly in the center of the camp. Soon, in virtue of the keys surrendered by Tuza, Darla, now relieved of her impediments, and her ankles freed of the ankle shackling, lay beside her. Then Emerald, at a gesture from her captor, put herself in place, prone, beside Tuza and Darla. Hiza next, now freed of the capture netting, was flung to the ground, belly down, to Emerald’s left. All were women, disarmed,