d also
been destined to play a prominent part in that ceremony. At once he saw
that there was something wrong with the man. A curious change had come
over his emaciated face. It was working like that of a maniac. Foam
appeared upon his dyed lips, his haunted eyes rolled, his thin hands
gripped the side of the canoe and he began to sing, or rather howl like
a dog baying at the stars. Jeekie hit him on the head and bade him be
silent, but he took no notice, even when he hit him again more heavily.
Presently came the climax. The man sprang up in the canoe, causing it
to rock from side to side. He pointed to the full moon above and howled
more loudly than before; he pointed to something that he seemed to see
in the air near by and gibbered as though in terror. Then his eyes fixed
themselves upon the water at which he stared.

Harder and harder he stared, his head sinking lower every moment, till
at length without another sound, very quietly and unexpectedly he
went over the side of the boat. For a few seconds they saw his
bright-coloured garments sinking to the depths, then he vanished.

They waited a while, expecting that he would rise again. But he never
rose. A shot-weighted corpse could not have disappeared more finally and
completely. The thing was very awful, and for a while there was silence,
which as usual was broken by Jeekie.

"That gay dog gone," he said in a reflective voice. "All those old
ghosts come to fetch him at proper time. No good run away from ghosts;
they travel too quick; one jump, and pop up where you no expect. Well,
more place for Jeekie now," and he spread himself out comfortably in the
empty seat, adding, "like hello-swello's room much better than company,
he go in scent-bath every day and stink too much, all that water never
wash _him_ clean."

Thus died the Mungana, and such was the poor wretch's requiem. With
a shiver Alan reflected that had it not been for him and his insane
jealousy, he too might have been expected to go into that same
scent-bath and have his face painted like a chorus girl. Only would he
escape the spell that had destroyed his predecessor in the affections of
the priestess of the Bonsas? Or would some dim power such as had drawn
Mungana to the death drag him back to the arms of the Asika or to the
torture pit of "Great Swimming Head." He remembered his dream in the
Treasure Hall and shuddered at the very thought of it, for all he had
undergone and seen made him supersti