but
perseveringly ran her down. When he came within a few yards of her, the
poor creature sank with a low wail to the ground, and turning half
round, glanced at her pursuer with a timid, imploring, yet despairing
expression. Alas! despair mingled with it, because she knew too well
the terrible cruelty of savage men when their blood is up, and she knew
nothing yet of the hearts of Christians.

Peterkin, whose susceptible nature was ever easily touched, felt a
thrill of self-reproach as the thought suddenly occurred that, however
good his intentions might be, he was in reality running a helpless woman
down like a bloodhound. He stopped short instantly, and acting, as on
most occasions he did, impulsively, he threw his rifle away from him,
unclasped his belt, and throwing it, with his hunting-knife, also away,
sat down on the ground and held out both his hands.

There was something almost ludicrous in the act, but it had the effect
of, to some extent, relieving the poor woman's fears. Seeing this, as
we successively came up we all laid down our rifles, and stood before
the crouching creature with our empty hands extended towards her, to
show that we meant her no harm. Still, although she seemed less
terrified, she trembled violently, and panted from her recent exertion,
but never for a moment relaxed her hold of the dead child.

"Speak to her, Mak," said Jack, as the guide came up. "Tell her who and
what we are at once, to relieve her feelings; and let her know
especially that we are the bitter enemies of the villain who has done
this deed."

While Makarooroo explained, the woman's countenance seemed to brighten
up, and in a few minutes she began to tell with great volubility the
events of the attack. The trader, she said, had come suddenly on them
in the dead of night with a large band, and had at once routed the
warriors of the village, who were completely taken by surprise. A few
had escaped; but Mbango, with Okandaga and his household, had been taken
prisoners, and carried away with many others.

"How long is it since this happened?" inquired Jack.

"She say two days, massa. Den dey go off to 'tack King Jambai."

"Ah! then it is too late to save him," returned Jack, in a tone of
sadness.

Our hearts sank on learning this; but on questioning the woman further,
we found that the marauding party, deeming themselves too weak to attack
so large a village as that of King Jambai, had talked of turning aside