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orces of these extremes of weather would be far too great for the human frame。
And so nature was not interfered with in the middle of the rainy season。 Sometimes it poured down in such thick sheets of water that earth and sky seemed merged in one gray wetness。 It was then uncertain whether the low rumbling of Amadiora's thunder came from above or below。 At such times； in each of the countless thatched huts of Umuofia； children sat around their mother's cooking fire telling stories； or with their father in his obi warming themselves from a log fire； roasting and eating maize。 It was a brief resting period between the exacting and arduous planting season and the equally exacting but light…hearted month of harvests。
Ikemefuna had begun to feel like a member of Okonkwo's family。 He still thought about his mother and his three…year…old sister； and he had moments of sadness and depression But he and Nwoye had bee so deeply attached to each other that such moments became less frequent and less poignant。 Ikemefuna had an endless stock of folk tales。 Even those which Nwoye knew already were told with a new freshness and the local flavor of a different clan。 Nwoye remembered this period very vividly till the end of his life。 He even remembered how he had laughed when Ikemefuna told him that the proper name for a corn cob with only a few scattered grains was eze…agadi…nwayi； or the teeth of an old woman。 Nwoye's mind had gone immediately to Nwayieke； who lived near the udala tree。 She had about three teeth and was always smoking her pipe。
Gradually the rains became lighter and less frequent； and earth and sky once again became separate。 The rain fell in thin； slanting showers through sunshine and quiet breeze。 Children no longer stayed indoors but ran about singing：
〃The rain is falling； the sun is shining； Alone Nnadi is cooking and eating。〃
Nwoye always wondered who Nnadi was and why he should live all by himself； cooking and eating。 In the end he decided that Nnadi must live in that land of Ikemefuna's favorite story where the ant holds his court in splendor and the sands dance forever。
CHAPTER FIVE
The Feast of the New Yam was approaching and Umuofia was in a festival mood。 It was an occasion for giving thanks to Ani； the earth goddess and the source of all fertility。 Ani played a greater part in the life of the people than any other diety。 She was the ultimate judge of morality and conduct。 And what was more； she was in close munion with the departed fathers of the clan whose bodies had been mitted to earth。
The Feast of the New Yam was held every year before the harvest began； to honor the earth goddess and the ancestral spirits of the clan。 New yams could not be eaten until some had first been offered to these powers。 Men and women； young and old； looked forward to the New Yam Festival because it began the season of plenty—the new year。 On the last night before the festival； yams of the old year were all disposed of by those who still had them。 The new year must begin with tasty； fresh yams and not the shriveled and fibrous crop of the previous year。 All cooking pots； calabashes and wooden bowls were thoroughly washed； especially the wooden mortar in which yam was pounded。 Yam foo…foo and vegetable soup was the chief food in the celebration。 So much of it was cooked that； no matter how heavily the family ate or how many friends and relatives they invited from neighboring villages； there was always a large quantity of food left over at the end of the day。 The story was always told of a wealthy man who set before his guests a mound of foo…foo so high that those who sat on one side could not see what was happening on the other； and it was not until late in the evening that one of them saw for the first time his in…law who had arrived during the course of the meal and had fallen to on the opposite side。 It was only then that they exchanged greetings and shook hands over what was left of the food。
The New Yam Festival was thus an occasion for joy throughout Umuofia。 And every man whose arm was strong； as the Ibo people say； was expected to invite large numbers of guests from far and wide。 Okonkwo always asked his wives' relations； and since he now had three wives his guests would make a fairly big crowd。
But somehow Okonkwo could never bee as enthusiastic over feasts as most people。 He was a good eater and he could drink one or two fairly big gourds of palm…wine。 But he was always unfortable sitting around for days waiting for a feast or getting over it。 He would be very much happier working on his farm。
The festival was now only three days away。 Okonkwo's wives had scrubbed the walls and the huts with red earth until they reflected light。 They had then drawn patterns on them in white； yellow and dark green。 They then set about painting themselves with cam wood and drawing beautiful black patterns on their stomachs and on their backs。 The children were also decorated； especially their hair； which was shaved in beautiful patterns。 The three women talked excitedly about the relations who had been invited； and the children reveled in the thought of being spoiled by these visitors from the motherland。 Ikemefuna was equally excited。 The New Yam Festival seemed to him to be a much bigger event here than in his own village； a place which was already being remote and vague in his imagination。
And then the storm burst。 Okonkwo； who had been walking about aimlessly in his pound in suppressed anger； suddenly found an outlet。
〃Who killed this banana tree？〃 he asked。
A hush fell on the pound immediately。
〃Who killed this tree？ Or are you all deaf and dumb？〃
As a matter of fact the tree was very much alive。 Okonkwo's second wife had merely cut a few leaves off it to wrap some food； and she said so。 Without further argument Okonkwo gave her a sound beating and left her and her only daughter weeping。 Neither of the other wives dared to interfere beyond an occasional and tentative； 〃It is enough； Okonkwo；〃 pleaded from a reasonable distance。
His anger thus satisfied； Okonkwo decided to go out hunting。 He had an old rusty gun made by a clever blacksmith who had e to live in Umuofta long ago。 But although Okonkwo was a great man whose prowess was universally acknowledged； he was not a hunter。 In fact he had not killed a rat with his gun。 And so when he called Ikemefuna to fetch his gun； the wife who had just been beaten murmured something about guns that never shot。 Unfortunately for her Okonkwo heard it and ran madly into his room for the loaded gun； ran out again and aimed at her as she clambered over the dwarf wall of the barn。 He pressed the trigger and there was a loud report acpanied by the wail of his wives and children。 He threw down the gun and jumped into the barn and there lay the woman； very much shaken and frightened but quite unhurt。 He heaved a heavy sigh and went away with the gun。
In spite of this incident the New Yam Festival was celebrated with great joy in Okonkwo's household。 Early that morning as he offered a sacrifice of new yam and palm oil to his ancestors he asked them to protect him； his children and their mothers in the new year。
As the