says."

"He won't be the last!" snapped zu Pfeiffer with a twitch of the left
sentry moustache. "Saunders, possibly. If so he should be here shortly to
report. Well?"

"The King and the few men left with him are in hiding, Excellence, in
dense forest. They are demoralized and quarrel among themselves. Many are
coming to surrender, for they say that you, Excellence, have eaten their
god."

"Ach!" said zu Pfeiffer with satisfaction. "What did I tell you,
sergeant?"

"Your Excellence was correct in every respect."

"Um! Pity I can't spare a company. That would settle them before they have
a chance to reorganize. Ach, but they haven't the sense, the animals, to
do that.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} Parade, sergeant."

Schultz saluted.

"Ready, Excellence."

Zu Pfeiffer rose, took up his gold-mounted sjambok, and the two walked
around the big marquee to the front where between the orderly lines of
huts those askaris not on duty were drawn up for inspection. The sergeant
barked. Bayonets flashed as they presented arms. Another bark and they
ported arms. Zu Pfeiffer walked down the line inspecting buttons, bolts,
and rifles as meticulously as he had lighted his cigar. The fifteenth
barrel he thrust away petulantly and flicked the askari's face with his
sjambok. The muscles of the man's face twitched as the blow came and the
eyes bulged, but he did not flinch.

"Twenty-five, sergeant!"

"Excellence!"

Zu Pfeiffer passed on. When the inspection was finished he stood rigidly
smoking, coldly watching Schultz dismiss the men. Then he stalked down the
hill with Schultz slightly in the rear, followed by a big black Munyamwezi
sergeant-major, towards the opposite hill, of MKoffo. But at the bottom of
where there were some half-constructed huts he paused.

"The women, sergeant?"

"The large hut, Excellence. Two hundred as ordered."

"No women of chiefs?"

"No, Excellence. Those attending on the hostages are housed apart."

Zu Pfeiffer strode towards the hut indicated which stood near to the edge
of a rased banana plantation. Two sentries without the fence presented
arms stiffly and remained immobile. Within the compound were some sixty or
more young girls, mostly having the black complexion of the slave type.
The chattering and giggling ceased as the tall form of the dreaded
Eyes-in-the-hands stood in the gate. A slight smile flirted his lips.

From the deep violet of the hut interior darted a young girl into the
sunli