e spot where they had
dwelt in utter solitude and peace for so many years; where one of them,
indeed, had been born and grown up to womanhood. However, I kept on
talking to distract their thoughts, and at last we were off.

I arranged that, although it was heavy for them, the two ladies, whose
white robes were covered with curious cloaks made of soft prepared bark,
should carry the plant as far as the canoe, thinking it was better that
the Holy Flower should appear to depart in charge of its consecrated
guardians. I went ahead with the rifle, then came the stretcher and the
flower, while Brother John and Stephen, carrying the paddles, brought up
the rear. We reached the canoe without accident, and to our great relief
found Mavovo and Hans awaiting us. I learned, however, that it was
fortunate they had slept in the boat, since during the night the albino
women arrived with the evident object of possessing themselves of it,
and only ran away when they saw that it was guarded. As we were making
ready the canoe those unhappy slaves appeared in a body and throwing
themselves upon their faces with piteous words, or those of them who
could not speak, by signs, implored the Mother not to desert them, till
both she and Hope began to cry. But there was no help for it, so we
pushed off as quickly as we could, leaving the albinos weeping and
wailing upon the bank.

I confess that I, too, felt compunction at abandoning them thus, but
what could we do? I only trust that no harm came to them, but of course
we never heard anything as to their fate.

On the further side of the lake we hid away the canoe in the bushes
where we had found it, and began our march. Stephen and Mavovo, being
the two strongest among us, now carried the plant, and although Stephen
never murmured at its weight, how the Zulu did swear after the first few
hours! I could fill a page with his objurgations at what he considered
an act of insanity, and if I had space, should like to do so, for really
some of them were most amusing. Had it not been for his friendship for
Stephen I think that he would have thrown it down.

We crossed the Garden of the god, where Mrs. Eversley told me the Kalubi
must scatter the sacred seed twice a year, thus confirming the story
that we had heard. It seems that it was then, as he made his long
journey through the forest, that the treacherous and horrid brute which
we had killed, would attack the priest of whom it had grown weary. But