rt and a deliciously cool breeze followed the parching heat of the
day.

At the same time the old Gorol Chief, Wabiti, was squatting
cross-legged in the rude shelter where the ex-queen Vanga had taken
refuge. Both of the former rulers had repeated their grievances and
grumbled about the changes in the tribe until they were in a mood of
revolt.

"If only I had my warriors again!" muttered Vanga.

"And if I could lead my brave Gorols, as I did when I was younger,
things would be different!"

"Tahara brought us woe!"

"He destroyed the Great Gorol!"

"Now he sets me to spinning and weaving! Is that fit work for a queen?"

"And he has made Kulki leader in my place," growled Wabiti. "Only a
few Gorols obey my orders, and they are the weaklings of the tribe."

"We have come upon evil days, O Wabiti."

"Evil days, O Vanga. I do not hold with these new weapons like bows
and arrows."

"Nor I. When Cimbula was my chief adviser, all was happy in the land."

"Would that Cimbula were here," grunted Wabiti.

Suddenly as if he had been waiting to be called, the witch-doctor
leaped from the shadowy forest and capered in a wild dance before them.

Cimbula was arrayed once more in the brightly-colored head-dress of
feathers and tufts of fur on his elbows, knees and ankles. His lean
old body was streaked and daubed with paint and around his eyes, one
blind and one sound, were painted scarlet rings that gave him a
horrible appearance.

In one hand he brandished a long stone knife, in the other he held the
painted gourd filled with pebbles, which he rattled menacingly.

"Who calls Cimbula?" he shouted hoarsely. "Lo, as I was floating in
the skies, I heard my name spoken and I come!"

Again he leaped high and the gourd sounded like a nest of angry
rattlesnakes as he shook it.

Vanga and Wabiti shrank back in superstitious dread, while the old
queen's maidens gave shrill and penetrating screeches of terror.

"Cimbula! Have mercy!" they screamed, and Wabiti's followers among the
Gorols came running and stopped suddenly, held back by fear, crying
hoarsely, "Cimbula! Cimbula, do not destroy us!" Vanga spoke her mind.

"We called the mighty Cimbula because strange enemies have driven us
from our caves."

"Show me the enemies," bellowed Cimbula. "I will slay them all."

His one eye glared hatred and defiance and his flint blade swished
through the air.

"Tahara could not save us," said Vanga. "Since he came