n his chair, snatched up the pencil and staring hard at
them, began to sketch faces on the open page of the book.

At the sight the warriors ceased their shuffling dance, were arrested with
the spears in their hands in as many poses. Bakahenzie's scream was
stoppered as if by a hand upon his mouth. In the silence their heavy
breathing rivalled the twitter and hum of the forest. Birnier sketched
furiously, glaring portentously from the group to the paper. Bakahenzie
took a step forward, a nervous step, and yelled, "Kill!" but his voice
released those of the warriors. In one loud shout they cried:

"He bewitches us! He bewitches us!"

As Birnier bent his head to make another magic mark upon the magic book he
heard the rush of feet.

"They have fled!" squealed Mungongo, still clutching Bakuma.

Birnier sighed and dropped his pencil as he glanced up. Bakahenzie and the
warriors had disappeared, but by the fire squatted Marufa unconcernedly
scratching his skinny ribs.

CHAPTER 16

Changed was the City of the Snake, the place of kings. Upon the site where
had been the hive of huts wrapped in the green arms of the banana
plantation, laboured under the incandescent sun gangs of prisoners under
armed guards upon the building of larger huts laid out in streets, broad
and geometrical, lined with correct ditches for drainage. Around the
outskirts here and there remained charred posts.

Upon the hill of MKoffo was a palisade enclosing the barracks of two
companies of the askaris and two guns. No brown cones peeped like
candle-snuffers above the sea of green fronds upon the hills of the tombs
of kings, but from the sacred hill of Kawa Kendi commanding the approach
to the valley rose, black against the sky, the triangle of the roof frame
of a large bungalow; around the crown of the hill was a stout palisade
through which grinned in the sun the muzzles of a Nordenfeldt and a
pom-pom; and outside upon a levee strutted rigidly four sentries night and
day, a perpetual reminder to the passer-by below of efficient vigilance.

Within was a methodical formation of round huts dominated by a square one;
at the far end, and in solitary grandeur beneath the Imperial flag upon a
roughly-hewn flag-pole, was a green marquee tent, the temporary quarters
of the Kommandant.

Under the tent verandah at the rear where were his private quarters sat zu
Pfeiffer with a towel tucked around his neck upon whi