hem to rescue the dead Dakoon from murderers and infidels; and
a wave of dark bodies moved forward, but suddenly cowered before the
malicious stillness of the hillsmen and the British, and the wave
retreated.

Cumner's Son had recognised the voice, and his eye followed its
direction with a perfect certainty. Even as he saw the figure of Boonda
Broke disguised as a native soldier the half-breed's arm was raised, and
a kris flew from his hands, aimed at the heart of Pango Dooni. But as
the kris flew the youth spurred his horse out of the ranks and down upon
the murderer, who sprang back into the Bazaar. The lad fearlessly rode
straight into the Bazaar, and galloped down upon the fugitive, who
suddenly swung round to meet him with naked kris; but, as he did so,
a dog ran across his path, tripped him up, and he half fell. Before he
could recover himself a pistol was at his head. "March!" said the lad;
and even as ten men of the artillery rode through the crowd to rescue
their Colonel's son, he marched the murderer on. But a sudden frenzy
possessed Boonda Broke. He turned like lightning on the lad, and raised
his kris to throw; but a bullet was quicker, and he leaped into the air
and fell dead without a cry, the kris dropping from his hand.

As Cumner's Son came forth into the path the hills men and artillery
cheered him, the native troops took it up, and it was answered by the
people in all the thoroughfare.

Pango Dooni had also seen the kris thrown at himself, but he could not
escape it, though he half swung round. It struck him in the shoulder,
and quivered where it struck, but he drew it out and threw it down. A
hillsman bound up the wound, and he rode on to the Tomb.

The Dakoon was placed in his gorgeous house of death, and every man
cried: "Sleep, lord of the earth!" Then Cumner stood up in his saddle,
and cried aloud:

"To-morrow, when the sun stands over the gold dome of the Palace, ye
shall come to hear your Dakoon speak in the hall of the Heavenly Hours."

No man knew from Cumner's speech who was to be Dakoon, yet every man in
Mandakan said in the quiet of his home that night:

"To-morrow Pango Dooni will be Dakoon. We will be as the stubble of the
field before him. But Pango Dooni is a strong man."

VII. THE RED PLAGUE

"He promised he'd bring me a basket of posies,
A garland of lilies, a garland of roses,
A little straw hat to set off the blue ribbons
That tie u