ing for me; and when next I behold the
face of the king it will be to hear my death-sentence--unless,
perchance, the Great Spirits should, of their mercy, see fit to preserve
my life."
"Fear not, Lobelalatutu," answered the professor. "You have done well
to come out and tell us these things, and no harm shall befall you.
Abide you here with us until we have dealt with M'Bongwele and his
witch-doctors. You will then have naught to fear. One thing more.
Tell me, now, have any white men visited this country since we were last
here?"
"Truly have they, to their great misfortune," answered Lobelalatutu.
"It is now some eight moons since that a party of twelve men and two
white women were found by certain of our people encamped yonder on the
shore, after a great storm. How they came thither none can say; but it
is believed that they must have arrived in a great floating house, the
remains of which were seen at some distance from the beach, lying in the
great water which dashed over it furiously.
"The fourteen white people, who were like unto yourselves, O Great
Spirit, but were dressed in clothing that appeared to have shrunk and
become stained through long soaking in the great water that is salt,
were by M'Bongwele's order brought to his village, where he questioned
them. But they spoke a tongue that none could understand; they were,
therefore, taken out and tormented, some in one way, and some in
another."
"So!" ejaculated von Schalckenberg, through his set teeth. "There are
times when I am almost inclined to regret that I am not myself a savage,
and capable of adopting savage methods in dealing with such monsters!"
This exclamation he made aloud to his companions in English, as a
preliminary to the translation of Lobelalatutu's story.
"By George! Professor, I sympathise with you in that remark of yours
about being a savage, and being capable of adopting savage methods when
it comes to punishing such a fellow as this M'Bongwele," exclaimed
Lethbridge, when von Schalckenberg had come to an end. "Mere hanging
seems absolutely inadequate; yet what can we do? Our sense of abstract
justice may be so keen that, for the moment, we are in full sympathy
with the old Mosaic law of `an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth,'
but which of us could deliberately set to work to serve the savage as he
has served others? We simply could not do it; and I suppose it is this
revolt of our souls against the idea of cruel
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