affectation of royal state he stored up for
future use.

"Greeting, Jandosi," said Ingonyama, graciously, for by this time the
native corruption of the trader's name had leaked out through his
servants, and by it he was now known to all. "Where is your brother?"
meaning Gerard.

"Where?" repeated Dawes, taming to look round, as it were with
indifferent surprise. "He should be here, though. He most have
returned to the waggons for something. Still, he should be here."

It happened that just at that moment the chant of the dancing song had
sunk rather low. Borne upon the still night air, faint and distant,
there floated to the ears of those who were not taking part in the
revelry, a long-drawn roar.

"_Igazi--pu_--_za_."

"_Hau_!" exclaimed Ingonyama, with a start, listening intently.

Again from the far hillside came the wild slogan. And now the _indunas_
echoed the astonishment of their chief. The guard on the ridge was
aroused.

All manner of expressions flitted across Ingonyama's face--rage,
mortification, intense puzzlement. The cry should have rung out loud
and clear, considering the short distance which lay between the kraal
and the ridge, whereas it sounded miles and miles away. The real fact,
however, being that the first alarm was completely drowned by the noise
and uproar of the war-dance, and the song in honour of the chief, and by
this time the guards were far enough away in pursuit of Gerard. John
Dawes felt every nerve thrill within him. The critical moment had
arrived.

"Thou liest, Jandosi," said Ingonyama, and a look of stern and deadly
meaning came over his features, grim and ferocious, scowling beneath the
great jaws of the lion. "Thou liest, Jandosi. Thy brother has fled;
_attempted_ to flee, rather," he added significantly; "for no man ever
quitted the kraal of the Igazipuza without bidding farewell to its
chief."

"Am I responsible for what he has done?" answered Dawes, coolly. "He is
young, remember, and young blood is restless blood. Perchance he was
tired of sitting still for ever."

"Am I a child--are these children, Jandosi, that you fill up our ears
with such tales as this?" said the chief sternly. "Where is your
brother?"

"Am I an owl--am I a bat, Ingonyama, that you would strain my eyes into
seeing through the dark? If, as you say, my brother has fled, how then
can I tell where he is at this moment? Rather should the question come
from me to yourself, whom