She knows that I bled, and that the parrot bit me.

If she blabs, as women will do, mischief may come of it.

I am a great god, a very great god--keen, bloodthirsty, cruel.

And I like that woman.

But it would be wiser and safer, perhaps, after all, to forego my affection and to make a great feast of her." And Ula, looking back with a smile and a nod, and holding up her own bitten and bleeding hand with a farewell shake, as if to remind her divine husband of her promise to show it to Fire and Water, murmured low to herself as she went, "He is a very great god; a very great god, no doubt; but I hate him, I hate him! He would eat me to-morrow if I didn't coax him and wheedle him and keep him in a good temper.