vil Spirits the power of benefiting or afflicting others;
and those who are presumed to be in possession of these powers are held
in as great--practically in greater--reverence than the Spirits
themselves."

"These persons are, of course, impostors."

"In the main, yes. But there are some who are half impostors and half
fanatics--really thinking they possess some of the gifts attributed to
them, though how much, they themselves hardly know. This is the common
case with false prophets. Their heaviest punishment ever is, that they
partially credit their own lie."

"And this chief, Chuma, supposes you to be one of these prophets?"

"He does, and nothing I can say will disabuse his mind of the idea. It
is not uncommon with these pretenders, to appear to deny the possession
of supernatural powers, until they have obtained their price from the
chiefs! Chuma will not be persuaded that my disclaimers have no deeper
meaning than this. And I have given up the point in despair."

"Are there any of these pretended prophets among the tribe?"

"There is one--a man named Maomo. He was once in great favour with
Chuma; but a long drought, some two years ago, which he failed to
relieve, forfeited his prestige in the chief's eyes. He has been
labouring for a long time past to regain his power; and he regards me, I
know, with especial dislike, because he views me as the chief obstacle
to the attainment of his wishes."

"He is not likely, I suppose, to succeed in his design. The chief seems
to regard you with the deepest awe, if not affection."

"Ernest," said the missionary, "that is all delusive. His awe of me is
founded on an unreal basis, which _will_ some day, and _may_ any day,
crumble into nothing. And the moment Chuma ceases to fear me, his hate
will burst out in all its deadly fury. Maomo has already (as I know
quite well) so far worked upon the chief's prejudices, that he views me
as an enemy, though one whom it is not safe to attack. He has persuaded
him that the Spirits are angry at my attempts to draw away his people
from their ancient belief, and the consequence, he has assured him, will
be some heavy visitation of disease, or famine, or drought. Chuma has,
in consequence, positively forbidden me to attempt to make any converts,
or even offer prayers to our God, under penalty of his heaviest
displeasure. This very day he has told me so."

"And you, sir?" asked Ernest, anxiously.

"I, Ernest," answered