tening, were inclined to believe they had
brought more. However, after some further roundabout talk, mostly of an
apologetic nature--for savages never appreciate a direct coming to the
point--he made them an offer, and one, even under the circumstances, and
from their point of custom, of exceptional liberality.

But it was not appreciated, let alone jumped at. "The sense of the
meeting"--to use a civilised and newspaper phrase--was nasty. The
chief, who in actual fact cared no more for the lives that had been
taken than had they been those of so many jackals, save that they
represented a substantial addition to his own wealth under the current
negotiations, held forth in unctuous strain upon the value of life, and
the grief of the dead ones' relatives, and so forth, his words being
emphasised by deep-toned exclamations from the _amapakati_, which were
echoed almost in a shout by the surrounding crowd. Thus encouraged, he
concluded by demanding a payment which would have crippled the
Mattersons--well-to-do as they were--seriously for many years.

"This is too much," came the reply, clear and decided, and in the tone
of a man who knew he was being grossly imposed upon. "I have other
children besides this one who is now in the hands of the law. I cannot
rob them, and I will not. Now take this or leave it, for it is all I
will give." And he doubled his original offer.

The jeering hoot that arose among the bystanders died away to silence,
for the chief and the _amapakati_ were consulting. It was a strange
scene, this question of barter over human lives--a strange scene, and a
weird one. Some hours had already been spent in the negotiations, and
now the sky had become partly overcast, and in the background a great
curtain of opaque inky cloud had arisen, against whose blackness jets of
lightning were luridly playing, and ever and anon a heavy booming roll.
Then in the silence a curious deep drumming sound was heard. All eyes
were turned upward, as overhead flapped several large birds, and in the
ungainly black shapes and long sabre-like beaks we recognised the
_brom-vogel_, or large hornbill of South Africa, which, by the way,
plays its part in native superstitions. On flapped the birds, slowly
winging their way right over the kraal, their deep, heavy note mingling
with the approaching thunder roll. Yes. It was a strange picture--the
unearthly, boding stillness, the livid cloud lit up by lightning gleams,
the