[grisbi-user-french] Unzumi. Wutzchen snuffled in his

[Cossette]

Groesie Fisch_, Sarki Kazunzumi, with half the folk from town," he said.
"Stay here, woman. I will out and talk with them." The Sarki sat astride
his white pony, staring as Aaron approached him. Behind their chief, on
lesser beasts, sat Kazunzumi's retainers, each with a bundle in his
arms. "Welcome, O Sarki!" Aaron said, raising his fist. Kazunzumi did
not return the Amishman's salute. "I return your gifts, Lightless One,"
he announced. "They are tainted with your blasphemy." He nodded, and his
servants dismounted to stack at the side of the road Aaron's guest-gifts
of months before. The bale of tobacco was set down, the bolt of scarlet
silk, the chains of candy, the silver-filigreed saddle. "Now that I owe
you naught, Bearded One, we have no further business with one another."
He reined his horse around. "I go in sadness, Haruna," he said. "What
did I do, Kazunzumi?" Aaron asked. "What am I to make of your
displeasure?" "You have failed us, who was my friend," the Sarki said.
"You will leave this place, taking your woman and your beasts and your
sharp-shod horses." "Sir, where am I to go?" "Whence came you, Haruna?"
the Sarki asked. "Return to your own black-garbed folk, and injure the
Mother no longer with your lack of understanding." "Sarki Kazunzumi, I
know not how I erred," Stoltzfoos said. 
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