so deep that the
breathing of the sleeping men could be distinctly heard outside. He
spoke at last, but slowly--

"It may not be; send Umhleswa arms for his tribe; make him powerful
enough not to heed the anger of the chief of Manica, and the fallen huts
are the white men's. Do they know that death has been pronounced
against them, and do they know the kind of death they must meet?"

"It matters not what," replied the missionary; "we have faced it too
often to fear it in any form."

"Death!" hissed out the savage, his eyes gleaming, and his white teeth
shown in the half light, "by fire,--slow, but sure death. Will the
white chiefs promise?"

"We promise," replied the missionary.

"Will they pay a ransom?" continued the savage.

"We have nothing to give; but we will return with presents."

The chief pointed to the rifles and pistols.

"Umhleswa would gladly have these, and when the white men return with
more, he will take them also."

"They shall be yours, chief, when we cross the frontier, not before."

"Will the God of the white man send rain when his children ask for it?"
he inquired.

"If in his great power and infinite knowledge he thinks it is
necessary," replied the missionary, a little jesuitically.

"Then," continued Umhleswa, "it is agreed. The white men promise not to
hanker after the fallen houses, but to cross the frontier near the
Zambesi, to give each a rifle, also that when they return they will
bring a rich present for Umhleswa, giving him the means to resist the
chief of Manica, and to laugh at his anger."

"It is agreed," replied the missionary.

"The white man speaking our language answers for his brother?" asked the
savage.

"He shall answer for himself," replied the missionary.

Turning to the soldier, Wyzinski explained the terms of the bargain,
pointing out that they were completely in the chief's power, and that he
himself was fully determined to organise a party, and return to the
ruins, in which case the protection of the savage would be valuable.

At the other end of the hut a violent discussion was going on between
the Matabele brave and the Amatonga warrior, the former declaring that
the white men must be brought back to Mozelkatse's country, the other
remaining quite unmoved.

Hughes at once saw the truth of Wyzinski's explanation, and though he
did not like to part with an old friend, made up his mind to do so, the
more readily because he saw that Umhleswa could