Something rough, twisted, and snakelike appeared in the opening. It did
not move. Nothing moved. He put out his hand--it was a branch.

He gave the branch a delicate jiggle; it felt solid. The yamam'ba, he
guessed, must have tired and sat down to rest against a tree. Very
cautiously he lifted himself by the branch, trying to move neither the
lid nor the tub which must still be resting on the monster's head.

He heard a faint snore. Top or forward mouth, he wondered. He pulled
himself to his feet, trying not to breathe and at last stood with his
head out of the tub. The branch was thick, and the next branch, right
above, looked dependable. Healthy wood; he appreciated that. Then came
a few feet of bark--that would be hard climbing--but above that, four
or five branches, almost a ladder. Further, it was too dark to see.

He tensed, took a deep breath, then gave a push and sent the heavy lid
crashing down on the sleeping yamam'ba. Up she leaped, and the tub
went flying, but Goro was already climbing from branch to branch. In a
nearby tree some monkeys woke up and watched Goro's footwork with shame
and envy.

From the ground the yamam'ba stared up at him. It was a rare chance to
see just what a yamam'ba really wore for a face, and he decided it was
not very attractive.

Down below, the monster was letting down her horrible hair in a
businesslike manner.

"Dinner will be early," she said with a ghastly, girlish laugh. "I was
getting quite hungry."

She started up the tree, the top mouth opening and closing. There were
teeth in it.

"We yamam'ba are very good with trees," she said, climbing steadily.
"Don't climb any higher. It will only make you tired and sweaty and
bitter to the taste. Say prayers instead and become calm and delicious."

"I hope I burn your tongue if you have one in there," said Goro, a

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