them all, so we fixed our eyes upon
the _Isanusi_ nearest to us. When she came to within a few paces of the
warriors she halted and began to dance wildly, turning round and round
with an almost incredible rapidity, and shrieking out sentences such as
"I smell him, the evil-doer!" "He is near, he who poisoned his mother!"
"I hear the thoughts of him who thought evil of the king!"

Quicker and quicker she danced, till she lashed herself into such a
frenzy of excitement that the foam flew in specks from her gnashing
jaws, till her eyes seemed to start from her head, and her flesh to
quiver visibly. Suddenly she stopped dead and stiffened all over, like
a pointer dog when he scents game, and then with outstretched wand she
began to creep stealthily towards the soldiers before her. It seemed to
us that as she came their stoicism gave way, and that they shrank from
her. As for ourselves, we followed her movements with a horrible
fascination. Presently, still creeping and crouching like a dog, the
_Isanusi_ was before them. Then she halted and pointed, and again crept
on a pace or two.

Suddenly the end came. With a shriek she sprang in and touched a tall
warrior with her forked wand. Instantly two of his comrades, those
standing immediately next to him, seized the doomed man, each by one
arm, and advanced with him towards the king.

He did not resist, but we saw that he dragged his limbs as though they
were paralysed, and that his fingers, from which the spear had fallen,
were limp like those of a man newly dead.

As he came, two of the villainous executioners stepped forward to meet
him. Presently they met, and the executioners turned round, looking
towards the king as though for orders.

"_Kill!_" said the king.

"_Kill!_" squeaked Gagool.

"_Kill!_" re-echoed Scragga, with a hollow chuckle.

Almost before the words were uttered the horrible dead was done. One
man had driven his spear into the victim's heart, and to make assurance
double sure, the other had dashed out his brains with a great club.

"_One_," counted Twala the king, just like a black Madame Defarge, as
Good said, and the body was dragged a few paces away and stretched out.

Hardly was the thing done before another poor wretch was brought up,
like an ox to the slaughter. This time we could see, from the
leopard-skin cloak which he wore, that the man was a person of rank.
Again the awful syllables were spoken, and the victim fell dead.

"_Two_," co