o them and give them great gifts."

"Let it be as you say and let M'Rua eat a small piece of Kali and Kali
a small piece of M'Rua."

"Let it be so," repeated the warriors.

"Where is the fetish-man?" the king asked.

"Where is the fetish-man? Where is the fetish-man? Where is Kamba?"
numerous voices began to call.

Then something occurred which might change entirely the state of
affairs, embroil the friendly relations, and make the negroes enemies
of the newly arrived guests. From the hut standing apart and surrounded
by a separate stockade, there suddenly resounded an infernal din. It
was like the roar of a lion, like thunder, like the rumbling of a drum,
like the laughter of a hyena, the howling of a wolf, and like the
shrill creaking of rusty iron hinges. The King hearing these dreadful
sounds, began to trumpet, Saba barked, the donkey, on which Nasibu sat,
brayed. The warriors leaped as if scalded, and pulled the spears out of
the ground. Confusion ensued. Stas' ears were assailed by the uneasy
shouts of: "Our Mzimu! Our Mzimu!" The esteem and favor, with which
they looked at the arrivals, vanished in one moment. The eyes of the
savages began to cast suspicious and hostile glances. Threatening
murmurs began to rise among the crowd and the horrible noise in the
isolated hut increased more and more.

Kali was terrified and, approaching Stas quickly, said in a voice
broken with emotion:

"Master! the fetish-man has awakened the wicked Mzimu, who fears that
he will lose gifts and is roaring in a rage. Master, quiet the
fetish-man and the wicked Mzimu with great gifts, for otherwise these
men will turn against us."

"Quiet them?" Stas asked.

And suddenly he was possessed by anger at the perversity and greed of
the fetish-man; and the unexpected danger roused him to the bottom of
his soul. His swarthy face assumed the same expression which it had
when he shot Gebhr, Chamis, and the Bedouins. His eyes glittered
ominously; his lips were compressed and his cheeks paled.

"Ah! I'll quiet them!" he said.

And without any reflection he drove the elephant towards the hut.

Kali, not desiring to remain alone among the negroes, ran after him.
From the breasts of the savage warriors there came a shout--it was not
known whether of alarm or of rage, but, before they recovered their
wits, the stockade under the pressure of the elephant's head crashed
and tumbled; after that the clay walls of the hut crumbled and amid