ound the ankles, the trunks were dragged away
to the village.

To the latter now they invited Laurence. To hesitate might be an act of
weakness sufficient to cause his slaughter. To acquiesce, on the other
hand, was it not an act of unexampled foolhardiness thus to place
himself more absolutely within the power of these savage cannibals? His
policy of boldness had availed so far; it would not do to break down at
the last moment. So he accepted without a shade of hesitation.

"How is your tribe named?" he asked, as they proceeded along.

"Wajalu," replied the man who had done chief spokesman, rather a
good-looking native, with almost a Zulu cast of countenance.

"And the head man of yonder village, who is he?"

"I am he. I--Mgara," was the reply, with a satisfied smile.

"And those we have slain, they seemed fine fighters. Of what race were
they?"

"Ba-gcatya."

Laurence looked grave, but said nothing. Strange rumours, mysterious and
vague, had reached him already--rumours relating to an immensely
powerful tribe inhabiting the dark and unexplored country away to the
north, whose raids were extending more and more, whose wrath fell alike
upon all--upon Arab slave-hunter and the prey sought by the latter--a
Zulu-speaking tribe said to have taken its origin in some hardly
recorded exodus in the days of Tshaka--Zulu alike in its habits and
customs, and in the despotism of its ruler. This nation was known as the
Abagcatya or Ba-gcatya, "The People of the Spider." Hazon, too, believed
in its existence, and Hazon was a first-class authority on such
subjects. And now the warriors who had attacked him, and upon whom the
tables were so strangely turned, were Zulu in aspect, and bore Zulu
shields. The thing began to look serious. What if that handful of
warriors was the outpost of a huge _impi_? Would not the vengeance of
the latter be fearful and complete?

And, indeed, time was when Laurence Stanninghame's blood would have
boiled with rage and disgust at the indignities offered to the remains
of these noble-looking warriors. The trunks dragged along by the heels
seemed nothing now but a bleeding mass. The heads, too, stuck upon spear
points, were borne aloft above the rabble. To them were all sorts of
mockeries addressed.

Now, however, it was different. The hardening process had been, if
anything, all too complete. A man had his hands full even if occupied
solely in taking care of himself--this had become the sum tot