ing men love not white people just now. It would be
better, indeed, if such were to leave the country. It is no longer the
healthy season for white people here."

Which apparently commonplace remark conveyed to these experienced
listeners, three distinct meanings--first, that their position was
exceedingly dangerous; secondly, that Lo Bengula was aware that even his
authority might be insufficient to protect them from the fanatical hate
of his warriors, but did not choose to say so in so many words; and
lastly, the tone in which it was uttered conveyed a royal command. But
to the recipients of the latter, it was exceedingly distasteful. An
order of a more startling nature was, however, to follow.

"You, Isipau," addressing Blachland. "Turn your waggon wheels homeward,
before the going down of the sun."

"Isipau," signifying "mushroom," was Blachland's native name, and as
such he had been known among the natives on his first arrival in the
country, years before, owing to his inordinate partiality for that
delectable vegetable wherever it could be obtained.

"When white people come into my country I welcome them as my friends,"
went on the King. "When I give them leave to hunt and to trade, it is
well. It is not well when they seek to look into things for which I
have given them no permission. Now I have given an order, and I give
not my orders twice. Fare ye well. _Hambani-gahle_."

And without another word, Lo Bengula rose from his seat, and stalked
within the stockade.

Blachland was the first to speak. "Damn!" he ejaculated.

"Be careful, man, for Heaven's sake," warned Sybrandt. "If they got
wind you were cursing the King, then--good-night!" Then, turning to the
old induna, who had quelled the outcry against them, "Who has poisoned
the heart of the Great Great One against us, Faku? Have we not always
been his friends, and even now we have done no wrong."

The old induna shrugged his shoulders, as he answered--

"Who am I that I should pry into the King's mind, Klistiaan? But his
`word' has been spoken in no uncertain voice," he added significantly.

This there was no denying, and they took their leave. As they passed
out of the kraal, the lines of warriors glowered at them like wolves,
for though the conversation had been inaudible to them, they divined
that these whites had incurred the King's displeasure.

"You've got us into a pretty kettle of fish, Blachland," said Young,
rather curtly