best of his fighting men.
Is the king a fool that he would exchange the hundreds of the Igazipuza
spears for the lives of two miserable white dogs? No. Let Jandosi's
`tongue' go prate at Undini--if it can reach there. It is as likely to
be cut there as here."

"What, then, would you counsel, my brethren?" said Ingonyama, looking
round.

The _indunas_ shrugged their shoulders, and all glanced tentatively at
Vunawayo. He, evidently, was the Mephistopheles of the group.

"We think Vunawayo speaks clearly," said one of them at length. "This
white man and they that are with him should die."

"I have long thought so," said the chief, scowling ferociously at the
recollection of the indignity he had suffered the previous night, held
at the muzzle of the trader's pistol. "And now--the manner of it.
Shall they die by the bite of The Tooth?"

"That must depend," replied Vunawayo. "This white dog has teeth of his
own, and he will show them. They, too, can bite. He will die; but it
will be biting hard. He will not leave his waggons, and he is well
armed and brave. Now my counsel is this. He cannot always live without
sleep, no man can. Wherefore towards dawn, when sleep is heaviest, let
a company be told off to rush in upon and surprise him. They will be on
him before he can wake, and thus will take him alive."

"I doubt them finding any such easy capture," muttered the chief, with a
dissentient head-shake. "Is there no better plan?"

"Only this, father," said Vunawayo, with a grin of ferocious exultation.
"Have you not said that they who let the boy slip through them and
escape should supply meat for The Tooth? Now, therefore, let us spare
them their lives on condition that they find such meat for The Tooth
instead of themselves. Thus will they dare and do all to secure Jandosi
alive."

"So be it, then," said Ingonyama, after a moment's reflection. "This
night shall he be taken."

Meanwhile the object of these amiable intentions was meditating a bold
stroke. Seated at his waggons, carefully thinking out the situation, he
decided that once more a bold line might better serve his purpose; in
pursuance of which plan he hailed a boy who was passing.

The latter stopped, stared, hesitated; then reassured by a signal from
the _induna_ Sonkwana, he drew near wonderingly.

"I have a fancy to see my oxen here," said John Dawes. "What is your
name, boy?"

"Sicalu," was the rather sullen reply.

"Well, Si