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CHAPTER 50
Bozo found a stone from the fallen building and relaxed his weight. He tucked his sword under his armpit and with his free hands took out his snuff-box from his pouch. He taped the coverlid and scooped a large portion into his nostrils with his index finger. The electrifying rush that went from his brain to all parts of his body made him shiver as he groaned with pleasure. The people of Umunta have become his favorite. They were skilled in grinding the tobacco smoothly and the lack of adulteration made him fond of their product. Unlike his previous sellers who often mix the tobacco with colorants and other useless leaves, this was the best anyone could ever ask for.
Sneezing twice, he wiped the tears before dropping his finger into the snuff box again, ready to begin the process all over.
Before him, sizzle and frizzles of burning buildings and roofs sang the melody of his conquest. Smokes rose in all directions, raining
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