breadth. But to what avail?

For the smooth surface of the lagoon was now rippling into long
furrow-like waves. Dark objects were gliding through the water with
noiseless rapidity, converging on the point where the human quarry had
now risen to breathe. More of the dreadful reptiles, with which the
lagoons were swarming, had found out there was prey, and were bearing
down to obtain their share. From his concealment, Laurence could see it
all--the glistening of the hideous snouts, the round woolly head and
staring, terror-stricken eyeballs of the miserable little victim. Then,
with a wild, piercing, soul-curdling shriek, the latter disappeared, and
there arose to the surface a boil of foam, bubbling upon the slimy water
in a bright red stain. Below, in the depths, the crocodiles were rending
asunder their unexpected prey.

"The moral of that episode," said the concealed spectator to himself, as
he turned away, "is that little boys should not play too near the bank.
No, there is yet another--the incredibly short space of time in which
the refined and civilized being can turn into a stony-hearted demon; and
the causes which accomplish such transmogrification are twain--the
parting with all his illusions, and the parting with all his cash."

These ruminations were cut short in a manner that was violent, not to
say alarming. Two spears whizzed past him with a vicious, angry hiss,
one burying itself deep in the stem of the tree-fern just behind him,
the other flying into empty space, but grazing his ear by very few
inches indeed. Then, in the wild, barking, hoarse-throated yell,
blood-curdling in its note of hate and fury, Laurence Stanninghame
realized that he was in a tight place--a very tight place.

CHAPTER XV.

AN AWAKENING.

Ten or a dozen tall savages were advancing through the somewhat sparse
scrub. Yielding to a first impulse of self-preservation, Laurence, quick
as thought, stepped behind the stem of the tree-fern. Then he peered
forth.

His first glance, keen and quick, took in every detail. His assailants
were fine warrior-like men, ferocious looking, in great crested headgear
of plumes. Their bodies were adorned with cow-hair circlets, but, save
for a short kilt of cat's-tails and hide, they were quite unclad. They
carried large shields of the Zulu pattern, and a sheaf of gleaming
spears--some light, others heavy and strong with the blade like a
cutlass.

Who, what could they be? he wondered. T