But they are bad gods, Daoud.
I am sad when the bad gods go.
They must go, Daoud. See, there is no one watching. Take them now.
Even so, great master.
[He takes up the largest of the gods with rust.]
Come, Aho-oomlah, thou shalt not drink Nideesh.
Was Nideesh to have been sacrificed?
He was to have been drunk by Aho-oomlah.
Nideesh. Who is he?
He is my son.
[Exit with Aho-oomlah. John Beal almost gasps.]
Archie Beal [who has been looking round the tent]
What has he been saying?
They’re—they’re a strange people. I can’t make them out.
Is that the heap that oughtn’t to be worshipped?
Well, do you know, I’m going to chuck this hat there. It doesn’t seem to me somehow to be any more right here than those idols would be at home. Odd isn’t it? Here goes.
[He throws hat on right heap of idols. John Beal does not smile.]
Why, what’s the matter?
I don’t like to see a decent Christian hat among these filthy idols. They’ve all got rust on their mouths. I don’t like to see it, Archie; it’s sort of like what they call an omen. I don’t like it.
Do they keep malaria here?
I don’t think so. Why?
Then what’s the matter, Johnny? Your nerves are bad.
You don’t know these people, and I’ve brought you out here. I feel kind of responsible. If Hussein’s lot turn nasty you don’t know what he’d do, with all those idols and all.
He’ll give ’em a drink, you mean.