k a long pull at the water bottle,
muttered: "I hear. Good. I will tell Hassim," and tightening the rag
round his loins, prepared to go. "Give me time to swim ashore," he said,
"and when the boat starts, put another light beside the one that burns
now like a star above your vessel. We shall see and understand. And
don't send the boat till there is less lightning: a boat is bigger than
a man in the water. Tell the rowers to pull for the palm-grove and cease
when an oar, thrust down with a strong arm, touches the bottom. Very
soon they will hear our hail; but if no one comes they must go away
before daylight. A chief may prefer death to life, and we who are left
are all of true heart. Do you understand, O big man?"

"The chap has plenty of sense," muttered Lingard to himself, and when
they stood side by side on the deck, he said: "But there may be enemies
on the beach, O Jaffir, and they also may shout to deceive my men. So
let your hail be Lightning! Will you remember?"

For a time Jaffir seemed to be choking.

"Lit-ing! Is that right? I say--is that right, O strong man?" Next
moment he appeared upright and shadowy on the rail.

"Yes. That's right. Go now," said Lingard, and Jaffir leaped off,
becoming invisible long before he struck the water. Then there was a
splash; after a while a spluttering voice cried faintly, "Lit-ing! Ah,
ha!" and suddenly the next thunder-squall burst upon the coast. In the
crashing flares of light Lingard had again and again the quick vision of
a white beach, the inclined palm-trees of the grove, the stockade by
the sea, the forest far away: a vast landscape mysterious and
still--Hassim's native country sleeping unmoved under the wrath and fire
of Heaven.

IV

A Traveller visiting Wajo to-day may, if he deserves the confidence of
the common people, hear the traditional account of the last civil war,
together with the legend of a chief and his sister, whose mother had
been a great princess suspected of sorcery and on her death-bed had
communicated to these two the secrets of the art of magic. The chief's
sister especially, "with the aspect of a child and the fearlessness of a
great fighter," became skilled in casting spells. They were defeated by
the son of their uncle, because--will explain the narrator simply--"The
courage of us Wajo people is so great that magic can do nothing against
it. I fought in that war. We had them with their backs to the sea."
And then he will go on to rel