march down the river, and all the women and
children in it, and that afterwards they will fight a great battle with
us. Therefore my people say that I must give you up, or that if I do not
they will elect another chief and do so themselves."

"Then you will give up a dead man, Fahni."

"Friend," said the old chief in a low voice, "the night is dark and the
forest not so far away. Moreover, I have set no guards on that side of
the river, and Jeekie here does not forget a road that he has travelled.
Lastly, I have heard it said that there are some other white people with
soldiers camped in the edge of the forest. Now, if you were not here in
the morning, how could I give you up?"

"I understand, Fahni. You have done your best for me, and now,
good-night. Jeekie and I are going to take a walk. Sometimes you will
think of the months we spent together in Bonsa-Town, will you not?"

"Yes, and of you also, white man, for so long as I shall live. Walk
fast and far, for the Asiki are clever at following a spoor. Good-night,
Friend, and to you, Jeekie the cunning, good-night also. I go to tell my
captains that I will surrender you at dawn," and without more words he
vanished out of their sight and out of their lives.

Meanwhile Jeekie, foreseeing the issue of this talk, was already engaged
in doing up their few belongings, including the gold rings, some food,
and a native cooking pot, in a bundle surrounded by a couple of bark
blankets.

"Come on, Major," he said, handing Alan one spear and taking another
himself. "Old cannibal quite right, very nice night for a walk. Come on,
Major, river shallow just here. I think this happen and try it before
dark. You just follow Jeekie, that all you got to do."

So leaving the fire burning in front of their bough shelter, they waded
the stream and started up the opposing slope, meeting no man. Dark as
it was, Jeekie seemed to have no difficulty in finding the way, for as
Fahni said, a native does not forget the path he has once travelled. All
night long they walked rapidly, and when dawn broke found themselves at
the edge of the forest.

"Jeekie," said Alan, "what did Fahni mean by that tale about white
people?"

"Don't know, Major, think perhaps he lie to let you down easy. My golly!
what that?"

As he spoke a distant echo reached their ears, the echo of a rifle shot.
"Think Fanny not lie after all," went on Jeekie; "that white man's gun,
sharp crack, smokeless powder, but wonde