place where
many canoes were tied up, perhaps fifty of them, some of which would
hold forty men."

"And how far was the town from this harbour?"

"Quite close, Macumazana."

Now Brother John asked a question.

"Did you hear anything about the land beyond the water by the cave?"

"Yes, Dogeetah. I heard then, or afterwards--for from time to time
rumours reach us concerning these Pongo--that it is an island where
grows the Holy Flower, of which you know, for when last you were here
you had one of its blooms. I heard, too, that this Holy Flower was
tended by a priestess named Mother of the Flower, and her servants, all
of whom were virgins."

"Who was the priestess?"

"I do not know, but I heave heard that she was one of those people
who, although their parents are black, are born white, and that if any
females among the Pongo are born white, or with pink eyes, or deaf and
dumb, they are set apart to be the servants of the priestess. But this
priestess must now be dead, seeing that when I was a boy she was already
old, very, very old, and the Pongo were much concerned because there was
no one of white skin who could be appointed to succeed her. Indeed she
_is_ dead, since many years ago there was a great feast in Pongo-land
and numbers of slaves were eaten, because the priests had found
a beautiful new princess who was white with yellow hair and had
finger-nails of the right shape."

Now I bethought me that this finding of the priestess named "Mother
of the Flower," who must be distinguished by certain personal
peculiarities, resembled not a little that of the finding of the Apis
bull-god, which also must have certain prescribed and holy markings,
by the old Egyptians, as narrated by Herodotus. However, I said nothing
about it at the time, because Brother John asked sharply:

"And is this priestess also dead?"

"I do not know, Dogeetah, but I think not. If she were dead I think that
we should have heard some rumour of the Feast of the eating of the dead
Mother."

"Eating the dead mother!" I exclaimed.

"Yes, Macumazana. It is the law among the Pongo that, for a certain
sacred reason, the body of the Mother of the Flower, when she dies, must
be partaken of by those who are privileged to the holy food."

"But the White Devil neither dies nor is eaten?" I said.

"No, as I have told you, he never dies. It is he who causes others to
die, as if you go to Pongo-land doubtless you will find out," Babemba
added g