he glanced round.
There lay the embers of the fire scattered about the clearing; there lay
the soldier's knapsack, and there, near it, with an ox hide thrown over
it, something which took, under its coverings, the shape of a human
form. There was no mistaking it.

The missionary's eyes filled with tears, and a convulsive sob heaved his
breast, as he looked on all that was left of the man who, in his dead
sleep, had trusted to his friend's vigilance.

The Amatongas seemed to have no time to lose, for hardly giving their
prisoner space to realise what was passing around, they hurried him
along through the bush, retracing their path until the whole group
reached the foot of the Baramuana hill, where the distribution of the
rifles had taken place the day before.

"My presentiment of evil did not deceive me," muttered Wyzinski; "fool,
triple fool as I was not to profit by it, and yonder," thought he, as
his eyes followed the course of the river, and the brick walls of the
fort met his gaze, just tipped by the first rays of the sun, "yonder lay
safety."

Grinning, laughing, and chattering, the circle of Amatonga braves drew
round him. Their prisoner was thrown to the ground and his feet bound
with the palmyra rope; the woman fiend, her passion lending her
strength, hauling at one end of the rough cord until it literally cut
into the flesh. A stake was driven into the ground at the foot of the
rock, and then the missionary knew his doom was, like Luji's, death by
fire. Next the whole band dispersed, going into the forest, and
returning by twos and threes, laden with brush as dry as tinder.
Quickly the semicircle of boughs and long grass grew round the stake,
while close to the prisoner's head sat the fiend-like woman, spitting
out her rage, heaping imprecations on his head, and occasionally
breaking out into a slow chant or death song.

The missionary's eyes were again closed; his lips were moving in prayer.
He was asking for strength to bear his fearful death, as a man should
whose negligence has brought evil not only on himself, but on others.
The belt of forest trees ran close to the spot where he lay, and while
he prayed a dark face put aside cautiously the clusters of convolvuli
which formed a flowery screen among the trees, as two black piercing
eyes gazed out from among the flowers, seemed to take note of the scene,
and then disappeared.

And now four of the Amatongas emerged from the bush, bearing the
name