astened home, and all the
villagers, old and young, hurried into the woods, by the pool, where
they found four lions, two elephants, and one of their own tribe lying
still and lifeless.

The words of the elephant have turned out to be true, for no man goes
now-a-days into the silent and deserted woods but he feels as though
something were haunting them, and thinks of goblinry, and starts at
every sound. Out of the shadows which shift with the sun, forms seem
crawling and phantoms appear to glide, and we are in a fever almost from
the horrible illusions of fancy. We breathe quickly and fear to speak,
for the smallest vibration in the silence would jar on our nerves. I
speak the truth, for when I am in the woods near the night, there swims
before my eyes a multitude of terrible things which I never see by the
light of day. The flash of a fire-fly is a ghost, the chant of a frog
becomes a frightful roar, the sudden piping of a bird signalises murder,
and I run. No, no; no woods for me when alone.

And Chakanja rose to his feet and went to his own quarters, solemnly
shaking his head. But we all smiled at Chakanja, and thought how
terribly frightened he would be if any one suddenly rose from behind a
dark bush and cried "Boo!" to him.

CHAPTER FIVE.

KING GUMBI AND HIS LOST DAUGHTER.

We were all gathered about the fire as usual, when Safeni, the sage
coxswain, exclaimed, "See here, boys; do you not think that for once in
a while it would be well to hear some legend connected with men and
women? I vote that one of you who have amused us with tales of lions
and leopards, should search his memory, and tell the company a brave
story about some son of Adam. Come, you Katembo, have the Manyema no
legends!"

"Well, yes, we have; but my ears have been so open heretofore that my
tongue has almost forgotten its uses, and I fear that after the smooth
and delightful tales of Kadu, you will not think me expert in speech.
However, and if you care to hear of it, I can give you the legend of
Gumbi, one of our kings in long-past days, and his daughter."

"Speak, speak, Katembo," cried the company; "let us hear a Manyema
legend to-night."

Katembo, after this general invitation, cleared his throat, brought the
soles of his feet nearer the fire, and amid respectful silence spoke as
follows:--

It was believed in the olden time that if a king's daughter had the
misfortune to be guilty of ten mistakes, she should suffer