and of yelling savages
around them, the captives were driven up the centre of the Amatonga
village.

The change in their situation had indeed been a sudden and dangerous
one. Relying on the promise of the chief, all anxiety had been
dismissed from their minds, and the future had seemed bright and fair
before them. A few minutes later, they found themselves bound
prisoners, and on their way to the hut of the dead man.

They reached the entrance, where on the threshold sat the wife of the
dead chief, rocking herself to and fro, and uttering a succession of
wailing cries. Suddenly starting up as the captives approached, she
spoke quickly to the braves around her, gesticulating and screaming.

She was urging her people to sacrifice the murderers of her husband, as
an expiatory offering on the chief's grave. This much the missionary
could understand, as he bent his calm, clear eye on the excited
countenance of the frantic woman. The quiet glance seemed only to
enrage her more, as shaking her long skinny fingers in his face, she
turned and dashed into the death-chamber.

Jostled violently along, the two prisoners found themselves standing in
the hut close together.

"We are lost, Hughes," said the missionary, in low, hoarse tones.

"The chief may save us," replied his comrade. "There is yet hope."

Inside the women were chaunting, in loud drawling tone, the good
qualities of the deceased, telling of his virtues in peace, his wisdom
in the council, and his great deeds of war. The body itself lay
stretched at full length in one corner, lying on some panther skins.

"There is hope there," whispered the missionary. "Look at the dead
man's face, the pinched-up features, that small dark stream flowing from
the lips, the tongue hard, black, and dry, hanging from the mouth, and
the limbs drawn up with cramp. He has been poisoned."

"By whom?" asked Hughes, as the two stood, their hands bound behind
them, gazing on the sickening spectacle.

"By Umhleswa. It was his interest to do this, and if so, he is watching
the result."

A rush of people into the hut now separated the two, while outside the
shouting of the men, the jabbering of the baboon, and from time to time
a yell from Luji, who was evidently the most suspected, was heard.

The two white captives, separated from each other, were now forced into
a sitting position, one on each side of the corpse, while the women,
ever chaunting the praises of Sgalam, pro