"--see," he finished, at the bottom of the tub. He was still wondering how he had gotten down there when the lid came down, bang, and it grew very dark. He felt the tub sail up, come to rest on something and begin to move forward with an up and down rocking movement. It did not take Goro long, in his bucket-shaped night, to realize that the yamam'ba, having no further reason to pretend a feminine weakness she probably despised anyway, had placed the tub on her head and was on her way home. To the mountain. "Excuse me," he called out. "Where are we going?" "To dinner," came his former wife's voice through the wood. It grated unpleasantly. He decided to ask no more questions. Deep into the woods went the yamam'ba, cutting through thicket and underbrush, the tub jouncing easily on her head, up and up into the mountains. Tireless on her long, rangy legs, she travelled along dead, forgotten roads lined with gnarled ugly trees. Goro heard their branches, bump-crack-bump, against his self-made prison. A thin edge of lesser darkness began to show at the top. He hoped it was the first time the lid had slipped on a tub made by Goro; this sort of thing could ruin years of reputation. But it might mean a way out of the tub. The opening grew wider. Looking up, he was able to see a few stars. Did he imagine it, or was the tub slowing down? He hoped he was not going to be eaten immediately. The tub stopped and settled. 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.