and what looked like
four or five large spike-nails in the other. He stood for a moment
gloating over the agonised countenance of his victim, and then nodded
his head. At the signal his four assistants seized their prisoner, and,
despite his terrible struggles, rapidly placed him, head downwards, with
his back against the tree-stump, and his limbs extended as far as they
would go round it, when the fetish-man proceeded with cruel deliberation
to secure him in position by _nailing him there_, the spikes taken from
the fetish-house being used for the purpose.

The horns, drums, and harmonicon now broke forth afresh into a hideous
clamour, which, however, was powerless to drown the dismal shrieks of
the victim; and the fetish-man, arming himself with a large broad-bladed
and most murderous-looking knife, began to dance slowly, with most
extraordinary contortions of visage and body, round the idol. Gradually
his gyrations grew more rapid, his gestures more extravagant; the knife
was flourished in the air in an increasingly threatening manner, and at
length, as the weird dancer whirled rapidly round the tree-stump, the
weapon was at each revolution plunged ruthlessly into the writhing body
of the hapless victim, the utmost care being taken, I noticed, to avoid
any vital part. Finally, when the dancer had apparently danced himself
into a frenzy--when his gyrations had become so rapid that it almost
made me giddy to look at him, and when his contortions of body grew so
extravagant that it was difficult to say whether he was dancing on his
head or on his heels--there flashed a sudden lightning-like gleam of the
knife, and the head of the miserable victim fell to the ground, to be
snatched up instantly and, with still twitching features, nailed between
the feet of the body.

A loud murmur of applause from the spectators greeted this effort of the
fetish-man, in the midst of which he retired for a few minutes to the
interior of the fetish-house, probably to recruit his somewhat exhausted
energies.

CHAPTER TEN.

A FIENDISH CEREMONIAL.

"Now," said Smellie as he turned once more to me, "we shall probably be
again threatened on the reappearance of that bloodthirsty villain. But
whatever you do, Hawkesley, maintain a bold front; let him see no sign
or trace whatever of weakness or discomposure in you. The fellow's
thirst for blood is by this time fully aroused, and every succeeding
victim will be subjected to greate