, the whole assembly having gathered
round the prize tent. Lamont had drawn a revolver.

"Move not, save to hand me that cap," he said.

For a moment the savage hesitated. But the ring of steel pointing
straight at his chest, perhaps the awful and fell look on this man's
face, from which every drop of blood had vanished, and whose eyes were
glittering like those of a wild beast, decided him. His hand came
slowly down from his head, and the red cap was in Lamont's left hand.

Yes, it was a tense moment, and in the excitement of it Lamont had all
he could do to keep his nerves steady. With a mind characteristically
attuned to trifles at such a moment he found his attention partly shared
by such. Apart from the crowd a very pretty girl was rating a man, in
voluble English with a foreign accent, apparently for having paid too
much attention elsewhere during the day. He heard Jim Steele snarling
and cursing in the bar tent, and idly wondered if his language would
reach ears for which it was not fit. He felt an interest in Orwell's
dog, running about in search of its master--in short, a dozen other
trivialities raced through his brain. Then a loud cheer broke the
spell. The first prize had been distributed.

"This is not the unarmed gathering you would think, Qubani," he said,
speaking in quick low tones. "Each man--and there are nearly two
hundred of them--has his weapons all ready, and would have them in his
hand in far less time than it would take you to run--say from here to
Ehlatini."

"_Whou_!" ejaculated the witch-doctor, bringing his hand to his mouth.

"Moreover, all round Gandela there is laid that which would blow a whole
impi into the air did such walk over it. The whites know where it is,
but it would be very dangerous for strangers."

"Ha!"

Another cheer went up, as another prize was given away. Incidentally
Lamont thought how fortunate he had been in not winning the tent-pegging
competition, for he could not have received his prize by deputy, and it
was still important to keep a close watch on Qubani.

"And now, O great _isanusi_," he went on, "what would be thy fate did
those here know what my _muti_ has told me? No quick and easy death, I
fear."

A troubled and anxious look came into the old man's face.

"You are my father, Lamonti, but your talk is dark--very dark. _Ou_!
Yet though I understand it not, I will do all you wish."

"That will be wise. Now we will look at them receiv