All through the day Oomah moved as in a trance. The enormity of the undertaking dazed him. Not that he feared the jungle or the hardships of long wandering, for to pursue and to slay the beasts of the wilderness was a part of his life. But, this was a mission of a different character. The very existence of the whole tribe depended on him; and more than that. If he failed, the whole earth, as he knew it, would be laid waste; Tumwah would never stop his fiery onslaught until the Black Phantom had been slain. Had not Choflo, who knew all things, said so? Still, he could not but feel that the sorcerer had been at least to some extent influenced by personal motives in interpreting the wishes of the Great Spirit. Did Choflo hope that the quarry would kill him, or at least elude him? In either event he would be out of the way. The whole thing seemed very mysterious but he had no alternative but to obey. Oomah was young, tall and strong. As he walked there was the rippling play of well-formed muscle under his brown skin. His black eyes, set at a slight angle somewhat like an Oriental's, glowed with the fire of determination from under the heavy shock of hair that covered his head. The women peeped out of the doorways as he passed, with looks akin to veneration. Liked by all, the sacred mission on which he was about to depart enhanced the esteem in which he had been held. And while their eyes were filled with admiration, their hearts were full of pity and sadness. For, with the coming of night Oomah would pass from among them like the fading of a shadow when the sun sets. Preparations were at once started for the parting feast. Hunters had gone in quest of game. The women ground yuca roots for fresh cassava bread. And the children, with tear-stained faces, gathered wood that had been stranded along the edge of the sandbar. But the youth wandered about listlessly, barely conscious of the activities that were going on all around him. Choflo had gone to the forest early in the forenoon. At mid-day he returned, carrying a bundle of slender stems in his hand. Looking neither to right nor to left, he entered his hut and drew a curtain woven of rushes across the doorway so that none might behold him plying his sacred calling.