"Great Spirit," said he, "you are very powerful, I know, for I have seen you do many wonderful things. Can you give Siswani new eyes and ears, new flesh in place of that which has disappeared? Can you extract the poison from his body, and make him whole again, even as he was when the dawn came into this morning's sky?"

"No," answered the professor, sorrowfully. "We can do many wonderful things, as you say, Lobelalatutu, but we cannot create a man anew. We can cure many diseases; we can heal many kinds of wounds; but our power as yet stops short of repairing such frightful injuries as those. The utmost that we can do is to ease Siswani of his pain so that he may die in peace."

"You cannot save his life?" demanded the chief; and there was a note of keen anguish and fierce sorrow in his accents as he asked the question.

"I do not say that," answered von Schalckenberg. "It may be possible.

But blind, deaf, dumb, as he is, what will life be worth to him, even if I can preserve it?"

"True, O Spirit," answered Lobelalatutu. "It would be worthless to him, nay, worse, it would be a torment to him; for memory would remain to him to remind him constantly of what he was, as compared with what he now is. And he could do nothing for himself; he would be dependent upon others for every morsel of food, every drop of water that went to sustain a worthless and miserable life. There is but one act of kindness that can now avail him, and I, Lobelalatutu, will do it for him, even as I would pray him to do the like for me, were I as he is!"

And ere von Schalckenberg could intervene, the savage, with a quick movement, raised the spear he held in his hand and, with unerring aim, drove it deep through the heart of his friend! Siswani's disfigured body responded to the stroke with a scarcely perceptible shudder; a faint sigh escaped the distorted lips; and the victim's sufferings were at an end.

"The _coup-de-grace_! the stroke of mercy; the act of a friend indeed,"

remarked von Schalckenberg, as he rose to his feet and turned to meet Sir Reginald, whose exclamation of horror was the first intimation of his contiguity to the other two. "Look at that poor mutilated and disfigured remnant of what, a few hours ago, was a man, in the prime of life, and in the full enjoyment of perfect health and strength; consider what the future must have been to such a man, so mutilated--even had it been possible to retain the life in him, which I gravely doubt--and then say whether this man, his friend, has not done the best that it was possible to do. Yet, would you, my friend, hampered with the sentimentality of your civilisation, have had the moral courage to do the like?"

"How long do you think he would have lived, but for that stroke of the spear?" asked Sir Reginald.

Von Schalckenberg shrugged his shoulders.

"Who can say?" he retorted. "Had he been left alone, he would perhaps have lingered in indescribable agony until sunset, when the poison in his system would have done its work, and he would have died. On the other hand, had I employed my utmost skill, and been free to give my undivided attention to him for, say, a month, I might, perhaps, have been so far successful as to have prolonged his life to the extent of two or three years; during which--deaf, dumb, blind, utterly helpless, and every movement a torture to him--he would have been dependent upon others for the necessities of life."

"Then," said Sir Reginald, "if I could know that the condition which you have described was the best that the future held in store for him, I would have put my sentimentality in my pocket and--"

"Quite so," a.s.sented the professor, with a nod; "and, in my opinion, your act would have been a meritorious one. Well, we were hours too late to be of any use to the poor fellow; but it may be that we shall still be in time to punish his murderer and the murderer of those fourteen unhappy white people who died to gratify the ferocious instincts of a savage despot. Let us be going. Come," he added, laying his hand upon Lobelalatutu's naked shoulder, "we shall need you while doing the work that lies before us. After we have finished you can send out men to do what is necessary here."

And, with a very grim expression of face, he turned and led the way to the _Flying Fish_.

Ten minutes later the ship came gently to earth in the Great Place before M'Bongwele's palace. The village appeared at first sight to be deserted, for not a soul was to be seen in any direction; but the low wail of an infant, suddenly breaking in upon the silence, and issuing from one of the huts, betrayed the fact that at least one small atom of humanity still lingered about the place; and where so small a baby was, the mother would probably be not far off.

The five white men--each with his rifle in his hand, as a safeguard against possible accident--stared about them in perplexity.

"What has happened, Lobelalatutu; what has become of your people?"

demanded the professor.

"They are hiding in their huts," answered the chief. "They remember what happened when the Four Spirits last visited us, and they are afraid!"

"So!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the professor. "Well, call to them, Lobelalatutu, and bid them come forth; we have somewhat to say to them."

The chief advanced to the gangway, where he could be clearly seen, and in a loud voice called upon every man to come forth into the open to listen to what the Four Spirits of the Winds had to say to them. And, in reply, first one, then another came creeping reluctantly out of the huts, until at length the Great Place was full of people, all standing with their eyes fixed upon the figures of the four well-remembered "spirits," and the fifth who now stood beside them. A low hum of subdued conversation arose from the densely ma.s.sed crowd, for a minute or two, but it presently subsided; and all waited breathlessly for the communication to which they had been summoned to listen.

Von Schalckenberg permitted the silence to last long enough to become almost oppressive; then he advanced to the gangway and, waving his hand, demanded--

"Children of the Makolo, how many of your number are absent?"

For a full minute dead silence followed upon this question; then a man, whose dress and weapons proclaimed him a chief, strode forward and replied--

"We are all present, O most potent Spirit, save fifty of the king's guards, who went forth this morning to execute the king's sentence upon Siswani."

"Say you so?" retorted the professor. "Where, then, is M'Bongwele? How is it that I do not see him?"

"_Au_!" exclaimed the chief, "the king abides in his palace. He comes not forth at the bidding of strangers."

"Does he not?" retorted von Schalckenberg. "Yet shall he come forth at my bidding. Go, now, Lobelalatutu; descend the ladder to your people; take as many men as may be needful, and bring forth M'Bongwele, that we, the Four Spirits, may judge him, and punish him for his crimes. Go, and fear not,"--for Lobelalatutu rather hung back, as though somewhat uncertain in regard to the matter of his safety--"you are under our protection; and the man who foolishly dares to raise hand against you incurs our displeasure, and will instantly fall dead!"

Thus a.s.sured, Lobelalatutu hesitated no longer, but, calling to certain friends of his to support him, boldly descended the ladder--which Mildmay took the precaution to draw up instantly--and, accompanied by some eight or ten other chiefs, proceeded to push his way through the throng toward the king's palace, while a confused hum and murmur of excited conversation arose from the crowd.

Suddenly, the chief who had replied to von Schalckenberg's questions, sprang forward, and raising his right hand, with a sheaf of spears in its grasp, above his head, shouted--

"Warriors of the Makolo, what is this? Why stand ye, silent, before these strangers, as cattle stand before a hungry lion? Who are they, that they dare come hither to dictate to us and our king? Once before have they been here, and--"

As though unexpectedly pushed by some one behind, he suddenly fell forward on his face, dead! while von Schalckenberg composedly lowered his rifle from his shoulder.

"It had to be done," he explained to his companions, meanwhile keeping his gaze steadily fixed upon the crowd of savages beneath him. "In another second or two those fellows down there would have been divided into two parties, and we should have had a pitched battle raging at our feet, with a loss of hundreds of lives. Evidently, the fellow was one of the king's friends, and can, therefore, very well be spared."

"Quite right, Professor," answered Lethbridge. "You forestalled me by a second or two only. If you had not fired, I should have done so, for I saw that the fellow meant mischief."

As the chief fell p.r.o.ne before them, the excited crowd of savages became suddenly silent and rigid. Then von Schalckenberg waved his hand toward the motionless figure, and said in solemn and impressive tones--

"So perish those who presume to dispute the will of the Four Spirits!

Let no one touch him, but let him lie there as a warning to other rebellious natures--if such, perchance, should be among you."

At this moment, Lobelalatutu and his band reappeared, with M'Bongwele in their midst. The king's heavy features wore a sullen, savage expression as he was led forward through the narrow lane that the a.s.sembled warriors opened out for his pa.s.sage; and he threw upward a single glance of mingled fear and defiance at the little group of white men as he advanced. As he reached the open s.p.a.ce that intervened between the ship and the thickly ma.s.sed crowd of his people, and came to a halt, he looked quickly about him, and suddenly demanded, in a loud, harsh tone of voice--

"Where is Malatambu? Let him stand forth!"

"Behold, he lies there, dead, slain by the mighty magic of the Great Spirits!" answered a chief, pointing to the prostrate body of the man who had fallen before the professor's rifle.

The king threw a single keen glance at the dead man, grunted inarticulately, and was silent.

"Listen, M'Bongwele!" said von Schalckenberg. "How is it that, having banished you for your former evil deeds, we find you here again upon our return?"

"I was unhappy away from my people, and therefore I returned," answered the king, sullenly.

"And, having returned, your first act was to slay Seketulo. Is it not so?" demanded the professor.

"Why should I not slay him?" retorted M'Bongwele. "The Makolo need not two kings; and Seketulo knew not how to govern them."

"Therefore you slew him?" persisted the professor.

"Therefore I slew him," a.s.sented M'Bongwele.

"Also you slew twelve white men and two white women who were found in distress by your people, although you knew that such acts were displeasing to us, and that we had forbidden them," a.s.serted the professor.

"Nay," said M'Bongwele; "I slew but the twelve white men. Of the two women, the elder slew the younger, and then slew herself. But what matters it how they died? Am not I the king; and may I not do as I will in mine own country?"

"And how died the white men?" demanded von Schalckenberg.

"Some died on ants' nests; some were crucified; some were--nay, how can I say? It is long ago, and I have forgotten," answered the king, sullenly.