Chapter Eight.

Chapter Eight.King Lobelalatutu.The one thing that, after the spreading, well-tilled fields surrounding every village, the great herds of cattle, and the general aspect of prosperity everywhere met with, most impressed the two travellers during their progress through the Makolo country, was the extraordinary courtesy and deference uniformly extended to them by the natives. These people were savages, pure and unadulterated, a fierce and warlike race, who had been obliged to fight for their very existence throughout countless ages, ignorant and superstitious to a degree, with all the virtues and most of the vices of the primeval savage, unspeakably cruel and relentless as enemies, absolutely fearless in battle, and, above all, intensely suspicious of strangers; yet, although white men were practically unknown to them as a people, they never annoyed the travellers by any display of undue curiosity, every man deferentially saluted them, and all were willing, even eager, to do them service.The character of the country, although it could not by any stretch of the imagination be described as mountainous, maintained its rugged character almost to the end of the journey, consisting of a constant succession of low hills, or ridges, mostly of granite formation, divided from each other by broad, fertile, well-watered valleys, dotted here and there with villages which, as the travellers advanced, gradually drew closer together and increased in importance.It was as the travellers surmounted a certain ridge, about an hour and a half before the time of their midday halt, that they caught their first glimpse of the sea since losing sight of it on their departure from Lourenço Marques. It stretched away to right and left and in front of them, a narrow, faint, grey streak, softly shimmering under the beams of the noontide sun; and between it and the observers lay a wide-stretching, level, grassy plain, in the midst of which appeared numberless irregularities that, viewed through their powerful glasses, assumed the aspect of architectural ruins of enormous massiveness and strength. But they were some ten miles distant, and through the highly rarefied atmosphere that intervened it was impossible to obtain any very clear conception of their character, except that they were undoubtedly of human origin and of quite unexpected extent. One thing, however, was certain, in the light of Menzies’ story, as recounted to them by his and their friend Mitchell, those enormous ruins could be none other than the remains of the ancient Ophir mentioned in Holy Writ; and the two friends sent up a shout of irrepressible exultation at the thought that they had advanced thus far upon their difficult journey without mishap of any kind. They were now all eagerness and impatience to reach those wonderful ruins; but the oxen were tired and hungry, having already been trekking for more than two hours; moreover, they took no interest in archaeology, and preferred an acre of rich grass to the finest ruins in the world, therefore it became imperative to outspan as soon as the wagon had plunged down into the plain far enough to reach the first watercourse. But Grosvenor and Maitland were not long in arriving at the decision to saddle up and ride forward as soon as they had partaken of a hasty tiffin.This resolution they duly carried into effect, observing the precaution to slip their loaded revolvers into their belts and to sling their loaded rifles and fully charged bandoliers over their shoulders, to guard against the possibility of accident, although they had thus far seen nothing to justify the slightest suspicion that either the king or his people meditated treachery. As they rode they had ample opportunity to observe—as indeed had been the case ever since they entered the Makolo country—the operation of the curious voice-telegraph system practised by the natives in their communications with each other, the high-pitched messages—doubtless reporting their progress-breaching their ears at frequent intervals.They advanced at an easy canter, heading straight for the ruins, for there was no semblance of a road, or even of a footpath, and scarcely any people were to be seen, except in and about the villages which they occasionally passed. But when they had arrived within about three miles of the ruins they observed, approaching them round the spur of a low hill, a troop of about fifty horsemen, which their field glasses enabled them to perceive were splendidly mounted, and garbed in the full panoply of war, consisting of shield, war axe, sheaf of broad-bladed spears, plumed head-dress, and—in the case of the leader—leopard-skin mantle, and necklace of leopards’ claws. It was a distinctly formidable cavalcade for two men only to meet, even although the latter were armed with weapons of such deadly precision as the rifle and revolver; and for a minute or two the travellers were just a little uncertain as to how to meet the situation. Finally they reined in and came to a halt, whereupon the leader of the troop threw up his right hand, as though giving an order, upon which his followers, who had been advancing at a gallop, reined their horses back upon their haunches, coming to an abrupt halt, while he,reducing his pace to a hand-gallop, continued his advance alone.“All right, old chap, come along,” exclaimed Grosvenor; “those fellows mean us no harm, I am sure. I expect it is a detachment sent out by the king to bid us welcome on our approach to his village.”“Very possibly,” assented Dick. “But, having halted, we must now remain where we are until that fellow approaches and delivers his message. To resume our journey at this moment would be tantamount to an admission of distrust on our part, which would never do. No, no; let the man come to us, not we go to him. Among savages, you know, first impressions count for a good deal, and it would never do to let those fellow think that we halted because we were nervous.”“No, of course; you are quite right, it would not,” agreed Grosvenor; and sitting straight up in their saddles, and assuming an air of absolute confidence which somewhat belied their inward feelings, they patiently awaited the arrival of the solitary horseman.In less than a minute he had arrived—a fine, stalwart man, of about middle age, clean-limbed, broad chested, upright as a dart, of dauntless aspect; his limbs and body showing many scars of battle. As he reached a point some ten feet from where the two white travellers awaited him he abruptly reined his horse to a standstill, and threw up his right hand in salute.“’Nkosi,” he cried, in a full, deep, resonant tone of voice, “Lobelalatutu, the King of the Makolo, salutes you by the mouth of me, ’Mpandula, and bids you welcome to his royal village. Behold a squadron of his royal guard, which he has dispatched, under my command, to conduct you in all honour to his presence. He awaits you now in his palace. Does it please my lords that the squadron, approach to give them the salute?”Now, this speech was only very imperfectly understood by those to whom it was addressed; a word or two here and there they comprehended because of their similarity to those in the language spoken by Mafuta; the name of the king also they recognised; and ’Mpandula’s gestures and the tones of his voice also told them a little. Thus in one way and another they contrived to gain a sort of hazy general notion of the gist of the chiefs speech. But how were they to reply to it, and what were they to say? So early a summons to the king’s presence was rather unexpected, and, in the absence of Mafuta, who was behind, with the wagon, would be rather embarrassing; for how were they to converse with the king without the assistance of an interpreter? There was but one thing to be done, and that was to reply to the best of their ability, which Dick undertook to do in the only native tongue with which he was familiar, explaining as well as he could the difficulty in which the pair found themselves.It was evident at once, by the puzzled expression on the chiefs face, that he understood Dick as little as Dick understood him; and for a moment there seemed to be the possibility of a deadlock. But suddenly ’Mpandula’s brow cleared, he turned on his horse and shouted a name, in response to which one of the guards drove his heels into his horse’s flanks, and dashed forward to his chiefs assistance. The latter appeared to explain the position in a few terse words, and when he had finished, the newcomer, at ’Mpandula’s dictation, repeated the message of the king, word for wood, in the language with which Dick was familiar.“What do you say, Phil,” questioned Dick, when the message was concluded; “shall we go? Or shall we excuse ourselves for the present, upon the plea that we would prefer to wait until the wagon comes up, in order that we may take with us the gifts that we have brought for His Majesty? I am not quite sure that I altogether like this escort business. It may be all right, of course. The king’s message sounds all right; but if the chap means treachery it will be exceedingly awkward for us, will it not?”“It certainly will,” agreed Grosvenor. “But,” he continued, “I fancy it is altogether too late to think of that now. When we determined to enter this country we tacitly decided to take all the risks of so doing; and in any case we cannot now escape, do what we will, therefore I think our best policy will be to take everything for granted, and go willingly with these fellows, since if we refused they have the power to compel us. What has so suddenly put the idea of treachery into your head?”“Upon my word I don’t know,” answered Dick. “Unless it is the sight of these armed men. But, as you say, it is too late to hesitate now, and, after all, their presence may merely signify the desire of the king to do us honour. Yes, I suppose we had better go.” And, turning to ’Mpandula, he said:“We are ready to go with you into the presence of the king, therefore let the squadron approach. But our followers are behind, with the wagon, and it is desirable that they should know what has become of us; therefore I pray you let a message be transmitted to them, informing them of our whereabouts, and also directing them where to outspan at their final halt.”“The will of my lords shall be done,” answered the chief, through the interpreter. And, raising his right hand, he shouted an order, whereupon the squadron of native cavalry, which had remained motionless as so many statues, at once awakened into life, and, starting forward at a gallop, advanced in as close formation and as perfect line as the finest civilised troops, halting a horse’s length in rear of their commander. Then, at a signal from the chief, every man tossed his right hand aloft in salute and thundered out the word’Nkosi! This salute Dick and Grosvenor acknowledged by placing their hands to their hat-brims, in military fashion, to the evident satisfaction of ’Mpandula and his followers; and then, as the two whites touched their horse’s flanks with the spur and moved forward at a canter, the escort formed up, completely encircling them; one man at the same moment detaching himself and galloping away in the direction of the wagon, in response to an order from his commander.Some twenty minutes later the party reached the outskirts of the ruined city, and found themselves confronted by enormous masses of masonry, consisting of walls, some of which still remained erect, although for the most part they had sunk into shapeless, overgrown masses of ruin, arches, columns, erect and prostrate, fragmentary pediments, shattered entablatures, dislodged capitals, crumbling pedestals, and mutilated statues of men and animals, all of colossal proportions; the buildings and portions of buildings all being of an immensely massive yet ornate and imposing style of architecture quite unknown to the travellers. Even the cursory glimpses which were all that Dick and Grosvenor were for the moment able to obtain, convinced them both that they were face to face with the remains of a city that must, thousands of years ago, have been of enormous extent and of almost unimaginable opulence and splendour.But they had little time, just then, in which to indulge their curiosity, for they almost immediately struck into a sort of bridle path that presently turned away from the ruins and led toward an extensive village, which now swept into view as they rounded the spur of a hill. The village consisted of some five hundred huts surrounding a central stockade, which enclosed a small group of buildings of considerably more pretentious character than the ordinary huts, and which Dick and Grosvenor at once conjectured must be the royal palace and its dependencies. This conjecture was confirmed upon their arrival at the village, for at the gateway of the stockade the cavalcade halted, and ’Mpandula, dismounting, requested his charges to do the same, intimating that he was about to conduct them forthwith into the presence of the king.Of course there was nothing to be done but to obey with a good grace, and the travellers, therefore, swung out of their saddles, and, handing over their horses to a couple of natives who stepped forward to take charge of them, followed their guide, or custodian, whichever he might happen to be, through the gateway, not without certain qualms of apprehension as to the wisdom of placing themselves thus unreservedly in the power of a savage king, who, if he should so choose, could send them to a death of unspeakable torment and horror, without the slightest fear of ever being brought to book. But now, more than ever, was it too late to hesitate; therefore resolutely stifling their apprehensions, and assuming a bearing of the most perfect confidence, they advanced toward a group of several persons whom they now saw arranged in front of the principal building within the enclosure.Unquestionably the most important personage in this group was a splendid figure of a savage, attired in a sort of petticoat of leopard-skin reaching to just above the knee, a mantle of lion-skin thrown over his shoulders, gold bangles on his arms and ankles, a beautifully worked coronet of gold adorned with crimson feathers of the flamingo, two necklaces—one composed of lions’ teeth and claws, and the other, and larger, of unpolished stones that seemed to emit a faint glint of ruddy fire—round his neck. He was armed with a sheaf of short, broad-bladed stabbing spears, and was seated on a sort of throne entirely covered with an immense kaross of lions’ skin. Behind him stood eight savages, as finely built men as himself, whose dress and adornments at once proclaimed them to be chiefs, and persons of very great importance in the Makolo nation. The individual upon the throne was of course none other than the king himself.Boldly advancing to within about ten paces of the seated monarch, Grosvenor and Dick halted, and, according to pre-arrangement, gave His Majesty a military salute. Then Dick, addressing the king in his best Kafir, remarked:“Hail! Lobelalatutu, King of the Makolo, we salute you.” Which the interpreter, who had followed them, promptly interpreted.“I see you, white men,” answered the king, slightly raising his right hand in acknowledgement of the salute. “You are welcome to the country of the Makolo. When I was informed of your approach I gave certain orders to my people concerning your comfort and welfare. I trust that those orders have been obeyed to your satisfaction.”“Your words, O King! have been most implicitly obeyed, and we thank you for them, as also for the welcome that you have extended to us,” returned Dick. “The four Spirits of the Winds will be pleased to learn, when we return, that you have not forgotten the injunctions that they laid upon you.”“The four Spirits of the Winds!” ejaculated the king, in great surprise, not wholly untinged with trepidation—which emotions were even more strongly displayed by the chiefs who stood about him. “Know ye then those terrible beings?” (Note 1.)“Even so,” answered Dick composedly. “We know that they twice visited the Makolo country; and we also know,”—he added with emphasis—“what happened upon each of those occasions. We know what happened to M’Bongwele, the former king of the Makolo; and we know why Lobelalatutu was chosen king in his place.”“Wau!” murmured the assembled chiefs behind their hands, in awestricken tones; “it is wonderful!” while Lobelalatutu shifted uneasily in his seat as he gazed apprehensively in the faces of his two visitors. For nearly a minute he remained silent, apparently debating within himself some very puzzling question. Then he said:“I would that I knew, O white men, all the reasons that have led you to visit the Makolo country. They must be many and great to have induced you to cross the Great Water, and to take so long, so wearisome, and so dangerous a journey afterwards.”“Listen then, O King Lobelalatutu, and you shall be told,” answered Dick. “My friend here is a great hunter; he loves the excitement of the chase, even as do your own young men. But in our own country the people are so many that there is little room for game, which is consequently very scarce. Therefore my friend said: ‘Lo, I will go to Africa, where the people are few and game is abundant, and there will I hunt the lion, the leopard, the elephant, the rhinoceros, the buffalo, and all those other animals that afford good sport, and are not to be found in England; also I am desirous of seeing the wonderful ruins of that great and ancient city whereof the four Spirits of the Winds have spoken; therefore will I go to the Makolo country, wherein those ruins are to be found, and become the friend, if I may, of the king, and his people.’ And, as for me, I am a healer of all kinds of sickness; I am also a seeker of gold, and the stones that glitter. Therefore said my friend to me: ‘Come, let us go together, for the journey shall be to our mutual advantage; we will hunt together, and if sickness overtake me you shall be my healer, while such gold, or stones, or ivory as we may obtain shall be yours.’ Those, O Lobelalatutu! are our sole reasons for coming hither. Are they not good and sufficient?”“They may be sufficient in your own eyes; but as for me, I know not,” answered the king. “The thing that I would know is this: Come ye as friends, or as secret enemies, of me and my people?”“Have I not said?” returned Dick. “My friend would be the friend of you and your people; and his friends will also be my friends; his enemies my enemies. If ye should need such help as it is in our power to give, it shall be yours, freely; and all we ask in return is that we may be allowed to examine the ruins at our leisure, and to take away with us such gold or stones as we may find.”“It is well,” answered the king. “If that be all ye ask, it is granted. Ye may examine the ruins at your pleasure; ye may remain in my country as long as ye will, and no man shall molest you; and whatsoever ye may find that is valuable in your eyes, that shall ye take with you when ye leave my country. That is my word, the word of the king. Say now, is it good?”“It is very good, and the Spirits will be well pleased when they learn that you have granted our request,” answered Dick.The king gave vent to a sigh of evident relief; it was clear that he wished to stand well with these two friends of the great and terrible Spirits of the Winds, who by the potency of their magic had been able to punish his predecessor M’Bongwele for his evil-doing, and to place himself upon the vacant throne. Yet it was apparent that there was still something at the back of the king’s mind, something that he keenly desired yet hesitated to speak of. For two or three minutes he sat plunged in deep and painful meditation; then he looked up and said:“It is well; I am glad that ye have come hither, O white men! for when ye return to your own country ye will be able to tell the Spirits that I have faithfully obeyed all the injunctions that they laid upon me. Ha! There is one thing more that I would ask. Ye speak not the tongue of the Makolo, yet ye were able to communicate with my people as soon as ye entered my borders. By what means did ye so?”“Oh, quite easily!” answered Dick—who, being the better linguist of the two, naturally assumed the part of spokesman. “We have with us a man who speaks the Makolo tongue, and whose language we speak; therefore we communicate with your people through him.”“Good!” exclaimed the king, in accents of extraordinary satisfaction; “it is very good. Go now in peace, O white men! Ye are my friends, and no harm shall befall ye while ye stay in the country of the Makolo; I the king say it. And it may be, O healer of sicknesses! that I can help you in the matter of the shining stones that ye crave to possess. See ye these?” And he pointed to the necklace of ruddy, unpolished stones that he wore.Dick stepped forward to look closer at the stones, and finally took the loop of the necklace into his hands. At first sight the stones appeared to be no more than ordinary red pebbles, about the size of a plover’s egg, or perhaps a little larger, the only peculiarity being that they were exactly alike in colour, and that they all emitted a rich, ruddy light. For a minute or two Dick stood carefully examining the stones; and as he did so a faint, elusive memory came to him in connection with them. Then suddenly the memory became clear and, carefully suppressing his excitement, he turned to Grosvenor and said, in quite an ordinary tone of voice:“Just come and have a look at these stones, Phil, but be careful not to betray anything in the nature of astonishment or admiration. Do you remember reading that those four chaps in theFlying-Fishaccidentally stumbled upon, first, the king’s ruby necklace, and then, through it, a ruby mine? Well, this is undoubtedly the necklace; and our friend here seems to hint that he is willing to show us the spot where similar stones may be found.”“Looks like it, certainly,” answered Grosvenor in carefully modulated, matter-of-fact tones. “Jolly fine stones, aren’t they? If you can contrive to take home a sackful of those stones, old man, you need no longer fear money troubles, eh? What?”“A sackful!” ejaculated Dick, with a laugh. “A peck of them will completely satisfy me, my boy.” Then, turning to Lobelalatutu, who was keenly watching them both, he said:“These stones, O King! are very good and of some value in my country, though worthless here. Know you where they are to be found?”“I know,” answered the king; “and it may be that I will show you the place; I cannot yet say, but I will consider the matter. I have given instructions as to the place where your wagon shall outspan; it is near at hand, between the village and the ruins; and if ye need anything, send word by your servant to me, and I will see to it.”“We thank you, O Lobelalatutu!” answered Dick. “We go now; but to-morrow we will come again, bearing with us the gifts that we have brought for thee from England. Until then, farewell!”Shortly after nine o’clock that night, while the two friends, having dined, were sitting under the raised front flap of their tent, enjoying the wonderful view of the ruins, rising gaunt and black in the midst of the landscape, flooded by the rays of the newly risen moon, and chatting in desultory fashion over the events of the day, as Grosvenor pulled contemplatively at his well-charred brier pipe, Mafuta appeared before them and, giving the usual salute, said:“There is one from the village yonder who would speak with my lords, if they be willing.”“Who is it, Mafuta—a man, or a woman?” demanded Dick.“It is a man,’mlungu” answered Mafuta. Then, drawing still nearer, and lowering his voice almost to a whisper, he added: “He says he is named Lobelalatutu!”“The king!” exclaimed Dick, starting to his feet in amazement. “What the dickens is up now, I wonder? Is he armed, Mafuta?”“Nay, lord, he is weaponless,” answered Mafuta.“Bring him hither,” commanded Dick; “we will speak with him.”Saluting again, Mafuta disappeared, and presently returned escorting a tall savage, unarmed save for a light switch, such as every native habitually carries, in order to defend himself against the attacks of snakes. He wore thekeshla, or head ring, and was naked save for the usualmouchaor apron of deerskin. As he stepped within range of the rays of the lamp, which Dick had hastily lighted, his eyes rolled and gleamed with something of apprehension in their expression; but despite his change of garb the white men had no difficulty in recognising the king.“We see you, O Lobelalatutu!” said Dick, adopting the ordinary form of salutation among the natives, for there was an air of secrecy about this visit that seemed to suggest a desire on the part of the king that he should be regarded as to some extent incognito. “Enter, I pray you, and be seated,”—pointing to the chair which he had just vacated, and drawing forward his medicine chest as a seat for himself, thus placing the king between himself and Grosvenor.With a sigh, whether of weariness or of relief was not quite clear, the king sank into the chair indicated, and when Mafuta would have discreetly withdrawn, stopped him.“Is this the man through whom you have hitherto communicated with my people?” the king demanded, and Mafuta duly translated the question.Dick answered in the affirmative, adding: “Tell him, Mafuta, that we know you to be faithful, and are ready to trust you even with our lives.”This speech also Mafuta translated, with an air of mingled hauteur and humility which was amusing enough to Dick and Grosvenor.For answer the king stood up and, laying his hand upon Mafuta’s shoulder, looked piercingly into the man’s eyes for the space of a full minute or more. On his part, Mafuta returned the gaze as steadfastly as it was given; and it was an interesting sight to the onlookers to see those two savages, both of them splendid specimens of their respective races, endeavouring to read each other’s character. At length Lobelalatutu removed his hand from the other’s shoulder and said:“It is well! Tell your chiefs that I say you are a true man, and that I, too, am willing to put my life into your hands. Stay you here and interpret for me, for I have a matter of moment to discuss with the white men.”“Tell the king to say on,” commanded Dick, when this speech had been translated to them; and Lobelalatutu, turning to Dick, said:“I am in a great strait, O’mlungus, and know not what to do. I would that the four Spirits of the Winds, who made me king over the Makolo, were here, for I have faithfully obeyed their injunctions, and they would help me. But you are friends of the Spirits, and it may be that your wisdom will find a way for me. May I speak?”Note. The author is here referring to events which occurred in two of his previous books:The Log of the “Flying-Fish”, andWith Airship and Submarine(both published by Messrs Blackie and Son, Limited).

The one thing that, after the spreading, well-tilled fields surrounding every village, the great herds of cattle, and the general aspect of prosperity everywhere met with, most impressed the two travellers during their progress through the Makolo country, was the extraordinary courtesy and deference uniformly extended to them by the natives. These people were savages, pure and unadulterated, a fierce and warlike race, who had been obliged to fight for their very existence throughout countless ages, ignorant and superstitious to a degree, with all the virtues and most of the vices of the primeval savage, unspeakably cruel and relentless as enemies, absolutely fearless in battle, and, above all, intensely suspicious of strangers; yet, although white men were practically unknown to them as a people, they never annoyed the travellers by any display of undue curiosity, every man deferentially saluted them, and all were willing, even eager, to do them service.

The character of the country, although it could not by any stretch of the imagination be described as mountainous, maintained its rugged character almost to the end of the journey, consisting of a constant succession of low hills, or ridges, mostly of granite formation, divided from each other by broad, fertile, well-watered valleys, dotted here and there with villages which, as the travellers advanced, gradually drew closer together and increased in importance.

It was as the travellers surmounted a certain ridge, about an hour and a half before the time of their midday halt, that they caught their first glimpse of the sea since losing sight of it on their departure from Lourenço Marques. It stretched away to right and left and in front of them, a narrow, faint, grey streak, softly shimmering under the beams of the noontide sun; and between it and the observers lay a wide-stretching, level, grassy plain, in the midst of which appeared numberless irregularities that, viewed through their powerful glasses, assumed the aspect of architectural ruins of enormous massiveness and strength. But they were some ten miles distant, and through the highly rarefied atmosphere that intervened it was impossible to obtain any very clear conception of their character, except that they were undoubtedly of human origin and of quite unexpected extent. One thing, however, was certain, in the light of Menzies’ story, as recounted to them by his and their friend Mitchell, those enormous ruins could be none other than the remains of the ancient Ophir mentioned in Holy Writ; and the two friends sent up a shout of irrepressible exultation at the thought that they had advanced thus far upon their difficult journey without mishap of any kind. They were now all eagerness and impatience to reach those wonderful ruins; but the oxen were tired and hungry, having already been trekking for more than two hours; moreover, they took no interest in archaeology, and preferred an acre of rich grass to the finest ruins in the world, therefore it became imperative to outspan as soon as the wagon had plunged down into the plain far enough to reach the first watercourse. But Grosvenor and Maitland were not long in arriving at the decision to saddle up and ride forward as soon as they had partaken of a hasty tiffin.

This resolution they duly carried into effect, observing the precaution to slip their loaded revolvers into their belts and to sling their loaded rifles and fully charged bandoliers over their shoulders, to guard against the possibility of accident, although they had thus far seen nothing to justify the slightest suspicion that either the king or his people meditated treachery. As they rode they had ample opportunity to observe—as indeed had been the case ever since they entered the Makolo country—the operation of the curious voice-telegraph system practised by the natives in their communications with each other, the high-pitched messages—doubtless reporting their progress-breaching their ears at frequent intervals.

They advanced at an easy canter, heading straight for the ruins, for there was no semblance of a road, or even of a footpath, and scarcely any people were to be seen, except in and about the villages which they occasionally passed. But when they had arrived within about three miles of the ruins they observed, approaching them round the spur of a low hill, a troop of about fifty horsemen, which their field glasses enabled them to perceive were splendidly mounted, and garbed in the full panoply of war, consisting of shield, war axe, sheaf of broad-bladed spears, plumed head-dress, and—in the case of the leader—leopard-skin mantle, and necklace of leopards’ claws. It was a distinctly formidable cavalcade for two men only to meet, even although the latter were armed with weapons of such deadly precision as the rifle and revolver; and for a minute or two the travellers were just a little uncertain as to how to meet the situation. Finally they reined in and came to a halt, whereupon the leader of the troop threw up his right hand, as though giving an order, upon which his followers, who had been advancing at a gallop, reined their horses back upon their haunches, coming to an abrupt halt, while he,reducing his pace to a hand-gallop, continued his advance alone.

“All right, old chap, come along,” exclaimed Grosvenor; “those fellows mean us no harm, I am sure. I expect it is a detachment sent out by the king to bid us welcome on our approach to his village.”

“Very possibly,” assented Dick. “But, having halted, we must now remain where we are until that fellow approaches and delivers his message. To resume our journey at this moment would be tantamount to an admission of distrust on our part, which would never do. No, no; let the man come to us, not we go to him. Among savages, you know, first impressions count for a good deal, and it would never do to let those fellow think that we halted because we were nervous.”

“No, of course; you are quite right, it would not,” agreed Grosvenor; and sitting straight up in their saddles, and assuming an air of absolute confidence which somewhat belied their inward feelings, they patiently awaited the arrival of the solitary horseman.

In less than a minute he had arrived—a fine, stalwart man, of about middle age, clean-limbed, broad chested, upright as a dart, of dauntless aspect; his limbs and body showing many scars of battle. As he reached a point some ten feet from where the two white travellers awaited him he abruptly reined his horse to a standstill, and threw up his right hand in salute.

“’Nkosi,” he cried, in a full, deep, resonant tone of voice, “Lobelalatutu, the King of the Makolo, salutes you by the mouth of me, ’Mpandula, and bids you welcome to his royal village. Behold a squadron of his royal guard, which he has dispatched, under my command, to conduct you in all honour to his presence. He awaits you now in his palace. Does it please my lords that the squadron, approach to give them the salute?”

Now, this speech was only very imperfectly understood by those to whom it was addressed; a word or two here and there they comprehended because of their similarity to those in the language spoken by Mafuta; the name of the king also they recognised; and ’Mpandula’s gestures and the tones of his voice also told them a little. Thus in one way and another they contrived to gain a sort of hazy general notion of the gist of the chiefs speech. But how were they to reply to it, and what were they to say? So early a summons to the king’s presence was rather unexpected, and, in the absence of Mafuta, who was behind, with the wagon, would be rather embarrassing; for how were they to converse with the king without the assistance of an interpreter? There was but one thing to be done, and that was to reply to the best of their ability, which Dick undertook to do in the only native tongue with which he was familiar, explaining as well as he could the difficulty in which the pair found themselves.

It was evident at once, by the puzzled expression on the chiefs face, that he understood Dick as little as Dick understood him; and for a moment there seemed to be the possibility of a deadlock. But suddenly ’Mpandula’s brow cleared, he turned on his horse and shouted a name, in response to which one of the guards drove his heels into his horse’s flanks, and dashed forward to his chiefs assistance. The latter appeared to explain the position in a few terse words, and when he had finished, the newcomer, at ’Mpandula’s dictation, repeated the message of the king, word for wood, in the language with which Dick was familiar.

“What do you say, Phil,” questioned Dick, when the message was concluded; “shall we go? Or shall we excuse ourselves for the present, upon the plea that we would prefer to wait until the wagon comes up, in order that we may take with us the gifts that we have brought for His Majesty? I am not quite sure that I altogether like this escort business. It may be all right, of course. The king’s message sounds all right; but if the chap means treachery it will be exceedingly awkward for us, will it not?”

“It certainly will,” agreed Grosvenor. “But,” he continued, “I fancy it is altogether too late to think of that now. When we determined to enter this country we tacitly decided to take all the risks of so doing; and in any case we cannot now escape, do what we will, therefore I think our best policy will be to take everything for granted, and go willingly with these fellows, since if we refused they have the power to compel us. What has so suddenly put the idea of treachery into your head?”

“Upon my word I don’t know,” answered Dick. “Unless it is the sight of these armed men. But, as you say, it is too late to hesitate now, and, after all, their presence may merely signify the desire of the king to do us honour. Yes, I suppose we had better go.” And, turning to ’Mpandula, he said:

“We are ready to go with you into the presence of the king, therefore let the squadron approach. But our followers are behind, with the wagon, and it is desirable that they should know what has become of us; therefore I pray you let a message be transmitted to them, informing them of our whereabouts, and also directing them where to outspan at their final halt.”

“The will of my lords shall be done,” answered the chief, through the interpreter. And, raising his right hand, he shouted an order, whereupon the squadron of native cavalry, which had remained motionless as so many statues, at once awakened into life, and, starting forward at a gallop, advanced in as close formation and as perfect line as the finest civilised troops, halting a horse’s length in rear of their commander. Then, at a signal from the chief, every man tossed his right hand aloft in salute and thundered out the word’Nkosi! This salute Dick and Grosvenor acknowledged by placing their hands to their hat-brims, in military fashion, to the evident satisfaction of ’Mpandula and his followers; and then, as the two whites touched their horse’s flanks with the spur and moved forward at a canter, the escort formed up, completely encircling them; one man at the same moment detaching himself and galloping away in the direction of the wagon, in response to an order from his commander.

Some twenty minutes later the party reached the outskirts of the ruined city, and found themselves confronted by enormous masses of masonry, consisting of walls, some of which still remained erect, although for the most part they had sunk into shapeless, overgrown masses of ruin, arches, columns, erect and prostrate, fragmentary pediments, shattered entablatures, dislodged capitals, crumbling pedestals, and mutilated statues of men and animals, all of colossal proportions; the buildings and portions of buildings all being of an immensely massive yet ornate and imposing style of architecture quite unknown to the travellers. Even the cursory glimpses which were all that Dick and Grosvenor were for the moment able to obtain, convinced them both that they were face to face with the remains of a city that must, thousands of years ago, have been of enormous extent and of almost unimaginable opulence and splendour.

But they had little time, just then, in which to indulge their curiosity, for they almost immediately struck into a sort of bridle path that presently turned away from the ruins and led toward an extensive village, which now swept into view as they rounded the spur of a hill. The village consisted of some five hundred huts surrounding a central stockade, which enclosed a small group of buildings of considerably more pretentious character than the ordinary huts, and which Dick and Grosvenor at once conjectured must be the royal palace and its dependencies. This conjecture was confirmed upon their arrival at the village, for at the gateway of the stockade the cavalcade halted, and ’Mpandula, dismounting, requested his charges to do the same, intimating that he was about to conduct them forthwith into the presence of the king.

Of course there was nothing to be done but to obey with a good grace, and the travellers, therefore, swung out of their saddles, and, handing over their horses to a couple of natives who stepped forward to take charge of them, followed their guide, or custodian, whichever he might happen to be, through the gateway, not without certain qualms of apprehension as to the wisdom of placing themselves thus unreservedly in the power of a savage king, who, if he should so choose, could send them to a death of unspeakable torment and horror, without the slightest fear of ever being brought to book. But now, more than ever, was it too late to hesitate; therefore resolutely stifling their apprehensions, and assuming a bearing of the most perfect confidence, they advanced toward a group of several persons whom they now saw arranged in front of the principal building within the enclosure.

Unquestionably the most important personage in this group was a splendid figure of a savage, attired in a sort of petticoat of leopard-skin reaching to just above the knee, a mantle of lion-skin thrown over his shoulders, gold bangles on his arms and ankles, a beautifully worked coronet of gold adorned with crimson feathers of the flamingo, two necklaces—one composed of lions’ teeth and claws, and the other, and larger, of unpolished stones that seemed to emit a faint glint of ruddy fire—round his neck. He was armed with a sheaf of short, broad-bladed stabbing spears, and was seated on a sort of throne entirely covered with an immense kaross of lions’ skin. Behind him stood eight savages, as finely built men as himself, whose dress and adornments at once proclaimed them to be chiefs, and persons of very great importance in the Makolo nation. The individual upon the throne was of course none other than the king himself.

Boldly advancing to within about ten paces of the seated monarch, Grosvenor and Dick halted, and, according to pre-arrangement, gave His Majesty a military salute. Then Dick, addressing the king in his best Kafir, remarked:

“Hail! Lobelalatutu, King of the Makolo, we salute you.” Which the interpreter, who had followed them, promptly interpreted.

“I see you, white men,” answered the king, slightly raising his right hand in acknowledgement of the salute. “You are welcome to the country of the Makolo. When I was informed of your approach I gave certain orders to my people concerning your comfort and welfare. I trust that those orders have been obeyed to your satisfaction.”

“Your words, O King! have been most implicitly obeyed, and we thank you for them, as also for the welcome that you have extended to us,” returned Dick. “The four Spirits of the Winds will be pleased to learn, when we return, that you have not forgotten the injunctions that they laid upon you.”

“The four Spirits of the Winds!” ejaculated the king, in great surprise, not wholly untinged with trepidation—which emotions were even more strongly displayed by the chiefs who stood about him. “Know ye then those terrible beings?” (Note 1.)

“Even so,” answered Dick composedly. “We know that they twice visited the Makolo country; and we also know,”—he added with emphasis—“what happened upon each of those occasions. We know what happened to M’Bongwele, the former king of the Makolo; and we know why Lobelalatutu was chosen king in his place.”

“Wau!” murmured the assembled chiefs behind their hands, in awestricken tones; “it is wonderful!” while Lobelalatutu shifted uneasily in his seat as he gazed apprehensively in the faces of his two visitors. For nearly a minute he remained silent, apparently debating within himself some very puzzling question. Then he said:

“I would that I knew, O white men, all the reasons that have led you to visit the Makolo country. They must be many and great to have induced you to cross the Great Water, and to take so long, so wearisome, and so dangerous a journey afterwards.”

“Listen then, O King Lobelalatutu, and you shall be told,” answered Dick. “My friend here is a great hunter; he loves the excitement of the chase, even as do your own young men. But in our own country the people are so many that there is little room for game, which is consequently very scarce. Therefore my friend said: ‘Lo, I will go to Africa, where the people are few and game is abundant, and there will I hunt the lion, the leopard, the elephant, the rhinoceros, the buffalo, and all those other animals that afford good sport, and are not to be found in England; also I am desirous of seeing the wonderful ruins of that great and ancient city whereof the four Spirits of the Winds have spoken; therefore will I go to the Makolo country, wherein those ruins are to be found, and become the friend, if I may, of the king, and his people.’ And, as for me, I am a healer of all kinds of sickness; I am also a seeker of gold, and the stones that glitter. Therefore said my friend to me: ‘Come, let us go together, for the journey shall be to our mutual advantage; we will hunt together, and if sickness overtake me you shall be my healer, while such gold, or stones, or ivory as we may obtain shall be yours.’ Those, O Lobelalatutu! are our sole reasons for coming hither. Are they not good and sufficient?”

“They may be sufficient in your own eyes; but as for me, I know not,” answered the king. “The thing that I would know is this: Come ye as friends, or as secret enemies, of me and my people?”

“Have I not said?” returned Dick. “My friend would be the friend of you and your people; and his friends will also be my friends; his enemies my enemies. If ye should need such help as it is in our power to give, it shall be yours, freely; and all we ask in return is that we may be allowed to examine the ruins at our leisure, and to take away with us such gold or stones as we may find.”

“It is well,” answered the king. “If that be all ye ask, it is granted. Ye may examine the ruins at your pleasure; ye may remain in my country as long as ye will, and no man shall molest you; and whatsoever ye may find that is valuable in your eyes, that shall ye take with you when ye leave my country. That is my word, the word of the king. Say now, is it good?”

“It is very good, and the Spirits will be well pleased when they learn that you have granted our request,” answered Dick.

The king gave vent to a sigh of evident relief; it was clear that he wished to stand well with these two friends of the great and terrible Spirits of the Winds, who by the potency of their magic had been able to punish his predecessor M’Bongwele for his evil-doing, and to place himself upon the vacant throne. Yet it was apparent that there was still something at the back of the king’s mind, something that he keenly desired yet hesitated to speak of. For two or three minutes he sat plunged in deep and painful meditation; then he looked up and said:

“It is well; I am glad that ye have come hither, O white men! for when ye return to your own country ye will be able to tell the Spirits that I have faithfully obeyed all the injunctions that they laid upon me. Ha! There is one thing more that I would ask. Ye speak not the tongue of the Makolo, yet ye were able to communicate with my people as soon as ye entered my borders. By what means did ye so?”

“Oh, quite easily!” answered Dick—who, being the better linguist of the two, naturally assumed the part of spokesman. “We have with us a man who speaks the Makolo tongue, and whose language we speak; therefore we communicate with your people through him.”

“Good!” exclaimed the king, in accents of extraordinary satisfaction; “it is very good. Go now in peace, O white men! Ye are my friends, and no harm shall befall ye while ye stay in the country of the Makolo; I the king say it. And it may be, O healer of sicknesses! that I can help you in the matter of the shining stones that ye crave to possess. See ye these?” And he pointed to the necklace of ruddy, unpolished stones that he wore.

Dick stepped forward to look closer at the stones, and finally took the loop of the necklace into his hands. At first sight the stones appeared to be no more than ordinary red pebbles, about the size of a plover’s egg, or perhaps a little larger, the only peculiarity being that they were exactly alike in colour, and that they all emitted a rich, ruddy light. For a minute or two Dick stood carefully examining the stones; and as he did so a faint, elusive memory came to him in connection with them. Then suddenly the memory became clear and, carefully suppressing his excitement, he turned to Grosvenor and said, in quite an ordinary tone of voice:

“Just come and have a look at these stones, Phil, but be careful not to betray anything in the nature of astonishment or admiration. Do you remember reading that those four chaps in theFlying-Fishaccidentally stumbled upon, first, the king’s ruby necklace, and then, through it, a ruby mine? Well, this is undoubtedly the necklace; and our friend here seems to hint that he is willing to show us the spot where similar stones may be found.”

“Looks like it, certainly,” answered Grosvenor in carefully modulated, matter-of-fact tones. “Jolly fine stones, aren’t they? If you can contrive to take home a sackful of those stones, old man, you need no longer fear money troubles, eh? What?”

“A sackful!” ejaculated Dick, with a laugh. “A peck of them will completely satisfy me, my boy.” Then, turning to Lobelalatutu, who was keenly watching them both, he said:

“These stones, O King! are very good and of some value in my country, though worthless here. Know you where they are to be found?”

“I know,” answered the king; “and it may be that I will show you the place; I cannot yet say, but I will consider the matter. I have given instructions as to the place where your wagon shall outspan; it is near at hand, between the village and the ruins; and if ye need anything, send word by your servant to me, and I will see to it.”

“We thank you, O Lobelalatutu!” answered Dick. “We go now; but to-morrow we will come again, bearing with us the gifts that we have brought for thee from England. Until then, farewell!”

Shortly after nine o’clock that night, while the two friends, having dined, were sitting under the raised front flap of their tent, enjoying the wonderful view of the ruins, rising gaunt and black in the midst of the landscape, flooded by the rays of the newly risen moon, and chatting in desultory fashion over the events of the day, as Grosvenor pulled contemplatively at his well-charred brier pipe, Mafuta appeared before them and, giving the usual salute, said:

“There is one from the village yonder who would speak with my lords, if they be willing.”

“Who is it, Mafuta—a man, or a woman?” demanded Dick.

“It is a man,’mlungu” answered Mafuta. Then, drawing still nearer, and lowering his voice almost to a whisper, he added: “He says he is named Lobelalatutu!”

“The king!” exclaimed Dick, starting to his feet in amazement. “What the dickens is up now, I wonder? Is he armed, Mafuta?”

“Nay, lord, he is weaponless,” answered Mafuta.

“Bring him hither,” commanded Dick; “we will speak with him.”

Saluting again, Mafuta disappeared, and presently returned escorting a tall savage, unarmed save for a light switch, such as every native habitually carries, in order to defend himself against the attacks of snakes. He wore thekeshla, or head ring, and was naked save for the usualmouchaor apron of deerskin. As he stepped within range of the rays of the lamp, which Dick had hastily lighted, his eyes rolled and gleamed with something of apprehension in their expression; but despite his change of garb the white men had no difficulty in recognising the king.

“We see you, O Lobelalatutu!” said Dick, adopting the ordinary form of salutation among the natives, for there was an air of secrecy about this visit that seemed to suggest a desire on the part of the king that he should be regarded as to some extent incognito. “Enter, I pray you, and be seated,”—pointing to the chair which he had just vacated, and drawing forward his medicine chest as a seat for himself, thus placing the king between himself and Grosvenor.

With a sigh, whether of weariness or of relief was not quite clear, the king sank into the chair indicated, and when Mafuta would have discreetly withdrawn, stopped him.

“Is this the man through whom you have hitherto communicated with my people?” the king demanded, and Mafuta duly translated the question.

Dick answered in the affirmative, adding: “Tell him, Mafuta, that we know you to be faithful, and are ready to trust you even with our lives.”

This speech also Mafuta translated, with an air of mingled hauteur and humility which was amusing enough to Dick and Grosvenor.

For answer the king stood up and, laying his hand upon Mafuta’s shoulder, looked piercingly into the man’s eyes for the space of a full minute or more. On his part, Mafuta returned the gaze as steadfastly as it was given; and it was an interesting sight to the onlookers to see those two savages, both of them splendid specimens of their respective races, endeavouring to read each other’s character. At length Lobelalatutu removed his hand from the other’s shoulder and said:

“It is well! Tell your chiefs that I say you are a true man, and that I, too, am willing to put my life into your hands. Stay you here and interpret for me, for I have a matter of moment to discuss with the white men.”

“Tell the king to say on,” commanded Dick, when this speech had been translated to them; and Lobelalatutu, turning to Dick, said:

“I am in a great strait, O’mlungus, and know not what to do. I would that the four Spirits of the Winds, who made me king over the Makolo, were here, for I have faithfully obeyed their injunctions, and they would help me. But you are friends of the Spirits, and it may be that your wisdom will find a way for me. May I speak?”

Note. The author is here referring to events which occurred in two of his previous books:The Log of the “Flying-Fish”, andWith Airship and Submarine(both published by Messrs Blackie and Son, Limited).

Chapter Nine.The Chief Witch Doctor’s Plot.“Speak freely and without fear, O Lobelalatutu!” answered Dick. “Tell us your trouble; and it may be that we shall, as you say, be able to point the way to deliverance.”“Then—but first let the light be extinguished,” said the king, pointing to the hurricane lamp suspended from the pole of the tent. “It may be that some of my people, standing yonder in the shadow, hoping to behold some wonder, may see me with you, and, though they might not recognise me, disguised as I am, I would rather that no man should know that you have been secretly visited this night.”“Right!” answered Dick in English. “I see your point, old chap, and out goes the ‘glim’.” And so saying he took down the lamp, opened, and extinguished it.“It is well,” approved the king, with a sigh of relief. “Now can I talk without fear of discovery.” He paused for a moment, considering how he should begin, then said: “As we talked to-day, O Healer of Sicknesses!”—the native word for this expression (soon abbreviated to “Healer”) forthwith became Dick’s name among the Makolo from that moment—“you said that you knew what happened to M’Bongwele, the king who ruled before me, and also how I came to be made king in his stead. Know you also the story of Seketulo, whom the Four Spirits made king in M’Bongwele’s stead when they first came among the Makolo?”“Yes, we know,” answered Dick. “We know that M’Bongwele was dethroned and banished by the four Spirits because of his barbarous and iniquitous rule, and that Seketulo was made king in his stead. We know also that, after a time, M’Bongwele secretly returned from exile, and, aided by certain powerful chiefs, slew Seketulo and reinstated himself as King of the Makolo. And, finally, we know that when the four Spirits revisited this country in their great glittering ship that flies through the air, they again deposed M’Bongwele and hanged him and his chief witch doctor from the bough of a tree, because, despite their previous warning, they persisted in their evil-doing. And in M’Bongwele’s place they made you, Lobelalatutu, King of the Makolo.”“It is even so, O Healer!” assented the king. “The tale, as you tell it, is the truth; and now I know of a verity that, possessing this knowledge, you are like unto the Spirits themselves, to be trusted, even as they were; therefore will I, without fear, unfold to you the tale of my present trouble. It was the dissatisfaction of certain chiefs with Seketulo’s system of government, as prescribed to him by the four Spirits, that made M’Bongwele’s secret return and his resumption of the throne possible. Seketulo was instructed to govern the Makolo justly and humanely, to put a stop to the oppression of the people by the chiefs, and, above all, not to make war upon the neighbouring nations save in self-defence. It was this last restriction that occasioned the greatest discontent among certain of the chiefs; because, the Makolo being a powerful and warlike nation, we were generally victorious when we went to war, and the greater part of the spoils went to the chiefs, who thus increased their riches as often as we made raids upon our neighbours. But under Seketulo’s rule all this was altered, and we were obliged to be content with such wealth as we already possessed; hence the discontent and all that followed upon it. Now, since I became king, I have endeavoured to govern my people even as Seketulo did; and for a long time things have gone very well with us; the number of the Makolo, no longer kept down by war, has greatly increased, as also has our prosperity; for now that war is no longer part of its policy the nation has devoted itself to agriculture and the breeding of cattle, our herds have greatly multiplied, new villages have sprung up, fresh land has every year been brought under cultivation, and all have enough, and more than enough, to satisfy their wants. But of late I have suspected that, despite our steadily increasing prosperity, all is not well with us. I have detected signs of discontent not only among the chiefs, but among the people themselves; there have been murmurs that the long peace which we have enjoyed is converting the Makolo into a nation of women who will soon lose the capacity for fighting; our neighbours are growing insolent and aggressive; and—worst sign of all—those chiefs who most boldly support me in my determination to continue to rule in accordance with the tenets laid down by the four Spirits, are rapidly dying off, one after the other, by some mysterious disease.”“Phew! I say, that looks very fishy, doesn’t it, Dick?” exclaimed Grosvenor, when the king had concluded his story. “Smacks of conspiracy and secret murder—eh, what?”“Yes,” agreed Dick; “I must confess that it undoubtedly has a look of that kind of thing about it.” Then, turning to Lobelalatutu, he asked:“How long is it since the chiefs who support you began to sicken and die; and how many have already passed along the Dark Path?”“It is now nearly three moons since ’Mtatu, my most trustworthy chief, died; and since then five others have travelled along the same Dark Road,” answered the king. “And now a seventh, ’Nkuni, lies sick in his hut with the same symptoms as the others. Three nights and two days has he thus lain.”“And how long does the sickness usually last?” asked Dick, his professional instincts being at once aroused.“They usually die on the seventh day after the sickness declares itself,” answered the king.“Good!” responded Dick. “Then your friend is in no immediate danger; and to-morrow, when we present ourselves before you with our gifts, I will see him, and it may be that I shall be able to save his life. Have you aught further to tell us?”“No,” answered the king. “I have now told all. But I fear that all these things portend evil to me, and, perchance, the end of my reign and life. It is for this reason that I have visited you to-night in secret; for I hoped that if a conspiracy is growing up against me you might be able to name the conpirators to me. That is all the help I ask,” he finished grimly.“Yes,” answered Dick; “I have no doubt that if we could ascertain the identity of the conspirators—if any—you could be safely trusted to do the rest. Well, we will see what can be done to help you. Must you really go? Well, good night! Take care of yourself; or, in other words,hamba gahli.”As the tall, dark figure of Lobelalatutu strode away down the slight slope, upon the summit of which the tent was pitched, and melted into the shadows, Grosvenor turned to his companion, who had now re-seated himself, and said:“It seems to me, friend Dick, that we have arrived upon the scene at the psychological moment—eh, what? If our friend Lobelalatutu’s suspicions have any better foundation than his own imagination, it strikes me that we are on the eve of exciting times. What say you?”“I say yes to that, most emphatically,” responded Dick. “For, don’t make any mistake, Phil, the king’s imagination is not running away with him; the death of six chiefs in quick succession, followed by the serious illness of a seventh, is something more than mere coincidence; it means conspiracy, followed by ghastly, blood-curdling tragedy—unless we can contrive by some means to discover the identity of the conspirators in time. As for those unfortunate chiefs, I have not the slightest doubt that they have been removed by poison—some secret and comparatively slow but deadly poison, and I intend to make it my first business to discover what that poison is, and its antidote—if I can. The chances are, however, that I shall fail, for almost all the savage peoples possess a great deal more knowledge of drugs, and especially of poisons, than we civilised folk are aware of, or are inclined to credit them with; and if poison is really being employed, it will almost certainly be something of which I have no knowledge. Still, we shall see. And you may be sure that I shall use my very best efforts to succeed, and also to discover the details of the conspiracy which Lobelalatutu suspects; for, should it succeed, we shall find ourselves in an exceedingly awkward predicament.”“Why—how do you mean?” demanded Grosvenor.“How do I mean?” repeated Dick. “Why, in a few words, I mean this, that so long as Lobelalatutu lives and continues to govern this people we are reasonably safe. But if he should happen to be deposed, and murdered, the new king will most probably sacrifice us both to his fetish as a sort of thank-offering for his success. Twig?”“Of course I do,” answered Grosvenor. “I had never thought of that; but it seems likely enough, now that you come to mention it. It appears to me that our first business must be to straighten out matters, for our own sakes as well as for that of Lobelalatutu. Poor chap! Here is he, a despot, with absolute power over the life of every one of his subjects; you would naturally suppose that such a man would have nothing to fear, wouldn’t you? Yet, like other monarchs, he seems liable at any moment to become the victim of secret intrigue, and lose his crown and his life together. I thought the poor chap looked worried when we called upon him to-day. The Bard was right—‘Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown’, be the head that of a civilised monarch or a savage.”“True for you, my boy,” answered Dick. “But are you not beginning to feel tired? Because, if you are, pray don’t stand on ceremony, but turn in as soon as you like. As for me, I think I will sit up a bit longer and see if I cannot think this matter out and find a streak of daylight somewhere.”“Which, I suppose, is a hint that you don’t need my company any longer,” retorted Grosvenor. “All right, old chap, pray don’t apologise. I know I’m a bit of a duffer in such matters as this, so I’ll leave you to thresh it out alone, and turn in for a good night’s sleep—eh, what?”Left to himself, Dick Maitland sat far into the night, considering the situation unfolded to him by the king; and at length an inspiration came to him, by following which he thought it possible that he might be able to clear up the mystery connected with the deaths of Lobelalatutu’s most trusted chiefs, and perhaps discover whether or not there really existed a conspiracy to overthrow that monarch and restore the barbarous practices that had made the rule of the last king literally a reign of terror. Then he turned into his hammock and slept soundly until Mafuta aroused him at sunrise with the early cup of chocolate which was the invariable prelude to the business of the day.The first thing after breakfast the two friends walked to the wagon, which was outspanned close at hand, and opened the boxes and bales which contained the various articles which they had brought with them to serve as presents and media of barter, and from the contents of these they selected a liberal assortment of gifts for the king, his wives, and the most important chiefs in His Majesty’s immediate entourage. These they handed over to the care of Mafuta, Jantje, and ’Nkuku the voorlouper; then, directing the trio to follow them, Dick and Grosvenor mounted their horses and rode at a foot-pace to the king’s village.The distribution of the gifts proved to be a somewhat lengthy function, for the articles presented included a considerable number of mechanical toys, the working of each of which had to be carefully explained to the recipient; but at length it came to an end, to the apparent satisfaction of everybody concerned, and then Dick said to the king:“Your Majesty is aware that I am a healer of sickness; is there any member of your family, or anyone in whom you are interested, lying sick at the present moment? Because, if so, I shall be very glad to do what I can to restore the patient to health.”The king looked doubtfully at Dick for a moment or two, as though not quite comprehending the drift of the question; then something in the expression of Maitland’s face led to his understanding, and he replied:“There is no one of my household at present sick, O Healer! but one of my chiefs—a man named ’Nkuni, who is my friend, lies nigh unto death; and if you can heal him I shall be grateful to you, for he is very dear to me. His sickness is the same as that which has already sent six other chiefs along the Dark Path; and it is of so strange and deadly a nature that Sekosini, the head witch doctor, can find no cure for it.”As the king thus spoke Dick was keenly watching the faces of the various persons present, and he noted with something of a thrill that four or five of the chiefs seemed to exchange stealthy glances of meaning with each other, and also, despite their assumption of indifference, to exhibit signs of inward perturbation. But it was no part of his policy to show that he had observed these things; he therefore responded to the king:“Ah, it may be that the sickness from which ’Nkuni is suffering is a sickness new to this country; and if it should prove to be so it is not surprising that Sekosini is unable to conquer it. It may be, however, that it is akin to some of the diseases with which I am acquainted, and in that case I can save the chief’s life. We will go to his hut and see him even now, if the king will direct someone to conduct us thither.”Lobelalatutu at once turned to one of the chiefs present, and said:“Ingona, you are ’Nkuni’s friend; take these white men to his hut, that the Healer may see him, and perchance restore to him his health and strength.”Two minutes later Dick stood in the hut of ’Nkuni, and saw, lying stretched upon the pallet before him, a man somewhat past the prime of life who, when in health, must have been a very fine specimen of manhood. Now, however, he was thin and wasted, his skin was cold yet dry, his pulse was exceedingly feeble and erratic, and he was in a terribly exhausted condition, having suffered a severe paroxysm of abdominal pain shortly after swallowing a draught of milk which had been administered to him by Sekosini’s order. This last fact, together with several other details respecting the progress of the disease, were communicated by the man’s chief wife, who appeared to be greatly concerned about him, as was naturally to be expected.“Where is the vessel from which the milk was drunk?” demanded Dick, when the woman had told all that she had to tell.A calabash bowl capable of containing about a quart was produced for his inspection, and he saw with satisfaction that it had not yet been washed. The film of milk still clinging to its interior showed that it had been about half full when offered to the patient, and about a teaspoonful of milk still remained in the bowl. Of this vessel Dick instantly took possession, handing it over to Grosvenor, with instructions not to spill a single drop of its contents on any account. Then he asked if any medicine had been administered in the milk, and was answered in the affirmative, a very small calabash bottle being shown which had contained the drug. Of this also Dick took possession. Next, having brought his medicine chest with him, in accordance with the plans which he had made overnight, the young doctor administered a powerful emetic, then he locked the chest, slipped the key into his pocket, and, leaving the chest in the hut to obviate the inconvenience of carrying it to and fro, he gave certain instructions to the chief’s wife, and then requested Ingona to conduct him to the hut of Sekosini, the chief witch doctor.This request appeared to fill Ingona with alarm, which he made no attempt to conceal. He informed Dick that Sekosini was a very great man indeed, second in power and influence only to Lobelalatutu himself; that it was not his custom to receive visitors unless permission had first been asked, the request being invariably accompanied by a present; that evil invariably befell those who were foolhardy enough to offend him; and that if he—Ingona—might presume to advise, he would strongly recommend the white man not to go near him, as Sekosini had always manifested a peculiarly strong aversion to strangers, and especially to white men since the two visits of the Spirits of the Winds to the Makolo country.All this, however, only tended to strengthen certain suspicions which Dick had already formed; but he did not express them to Ingona; he blandly explained to that chief that, having been requested by the king to use his best endeavours to cure ’Nkuni, he wished to see Sekosini and consult with him, in order that he might learn as many particulars as possible respecting the ailment from which ’Nkuni was suffering. This explanation appeared at least partially to satisfy Ingona, who made no further attempt to dissuade Dick from his purpose, but, on the contrary, offered to go forward and prepare Sekosini for the proposed visit. To this proposal, since it could scarcely interfere with his plans, Dick cheerfully assented, whereupon Ingona, pointing out the witch doctor’s hut, which stood a good quarter of a mile apart from all others, hastened toward it at the long, swinging trot which enables the South African savage to get over the ground so quickly and which he can maintain for such an incredible length of time.Dick, meanwhile, accompanied only by Mafuta to act as interpreter, sauntered slowly on his way, for the double purpose of arranging mentally the plan of his impending interview with Sekosini, and giving Ingona time to say whatever he might wish to say to the witch doctor.It was about a quarter of an hour later that, as Dick and his henchman approached the witch doctor’s hut, Ingona emerged from it with the gratifying intimation that he had succeeded in inducing Sekosini graciously to accord the white man an audience. Whereupon the white man, having suitably expressed the satisfaction which was his at so great an honour, stooped and passed into the hut, preceded by Ingona and followed by Mafuta, whose original wholesome fear of wizards had by this time become completely swamped by his belief in the power of his master to circumvent the most powerful wizard that ever lived.The hut of Sekosini afforded no indication of the importance of its owner, for it was of the same size as, and in all other respects similar to, the other huts of the ordinary natives, that is, as regarded its external appearance. Inside, however, there was a very marked difference; for whereas the ordinary native is content to sleep on the bare floor, Sekosini was satisfied with nothing less than a bed, consisting of a quadrangular framework of hardwood supported, at the height of a foot above the floor, by four stout posts driven firmly into the ground, the skeleton framework being strapped across and lengthways by a great number of tightly strained raw-hide thongs upon which were piled several very valuable karosses, or skin rugs. Also the interior of the hut was thickly hung with bunches of dried herbs and other objects, the precise nature of which Dick was at first unable to determine in the comparative obscurity of the interior, passing at once, as he did, from the blazing sunshine of the open direct into an interior which was unilluminated save by such light as penetrated through the low, narrow entrance.For a full minute he stood, mute and motionless, waiting for his eyes to accustom themselves to the change; then the various objects of the interiorgradually began to reveal themselves to him with increasing distinctness, and he found himself face to face with a thin, wizened, shrunken creature of apparently incredible age, without a particle of hair on head or face, but with a pair of eyes that glowed like carbuncles within their cavernous sockets. He was seated cross-legged upon the floor, was absolutely naked, save for a necklace of snake skin, and was toying with an enormous greenmamba—one of the most deadly of South African snakes—that lay coiled between his legs with its cruel, vindictive eyes fixed immovably upon the visitor. Beside Sekosini stood Ingona, apparently impassive, but his quick, irregular breathing betrayed the fact that he was labouring under a considerable amount of excitement. As for the witch doctor, his face wore a smile of concentrated malice, as though he anticipated something in the nature of a conflict with this audacious whitemfanaand was already exulting in the prospect of a quick and overwhelming victory.Suddenly he fixed his eyes intently upon Dick’s, and said, in soft, sibilant tones:“Well,’mlungu, what want ye with Sekosini?”It was the moment and the opportunity for which Dick had been waiting. Gazing intently into the eyes of the savage, in the peculiar manner that he had learned from Humphreys, the young doctor suddenly concentrated his will upon the effort to bring his foe—for as such he intuitively recognised Sekosini—under subjugation. For a moment the strangely contrasted pair gazed at each other, and then some strange sensation experienced by the witch doctor seemed to warn him of what was happening. But it was too late; Dick had caught him unawares, and so absolutely instantaneous was the hypnotic method which Humphreys had taught his pupil that before Sekosini could offer any effective resistance his will had completely succumbed to Dick’s, and he was in the latter’s power. In response to Dick’s unspoken thought he said:“Ask what you will, and I will answer.”“You hear?” demanded Dick, turning his gaze for a moment upon Ingona.“I hear,” answered Ingona, unsuspectingly meeting Dick’s gaze as he replied, and in that moment he, too, was brought under the young doctor’s influence. For a few seconds longer Dick kept his unwinking gaze steadfastly fixed upon the chief, mentally commanding him to forget everything that he might see and hear during the interview; and then he again turned his attention to the witch doctor. He recalled to mind a declaration of Humphreys’ upon which the latter had laid great stress: “The spoken word, where you can use it, is always more potent than the unspoken, but whether it is understood or not is really a minor matter; it is the emphasis, the insistence which is conveyed by speech, added to the will power employed, that renders the operator absolutely irresistible.” As it was of the utmost importance that Sekosini should remain completely under his influence until the whole affair was brought to an end, he now once more sent his compelling gaze into the unblinking eyes of the ancient savage, and finally said to him, in English:“Henceforth, until I release you, your will is mine; you will think and act only as I direct. You understand?”“I understand, and will obey,” answered Sekosini.“Good!” returned Dick. “Now I command you to tell me the absolute truth. Know you anything relative to the sickness from which the chief ’Nkuni is suffering, or the sickness from which ’Mtatu and the other five chiefs died?”“Yes,” answered Sekosini—and the answer in nowise surprised Dick; “I know all. ’Nkuni is slowly dying of poison administered by me, the same poison that sent ’Mtatu and the other five chiefs along the Dark Path. The destruction of these men is preliminary to the destruction of the king, of whose method of government I and others disapprove. I might have destroyed Lobelalatutu alone; but if the chiefs whom I have destroyed had been allowed to live it would assuredly have led to trouble, therefore have I destroyed them first. When ’Nkuni dies the chiefs who think as I do will be strong enough to act without fear of opposition, and we shall be able to destroy Lobelalatutu and restore the system which prevailed when M’Bongwele reigned, the system by which the chiefs and the witch doctors were able to acquire much wealth instead of living, as we do now, in comparative poverty.”“Then,” demanded Dick, “do I understand that under Lobelalatutu’s rule you have not a sufficiency to meet all your wants?”“I have a sufficiency, yes,” answered Sekosini; “but I would have much more than that. I would have wealth, great wealth, and, above all, power, the power that the witch doctors wielded in M’Bongwele’s time. True, I have much power even now; but it is as nothing to the power that was wielded by Mtusa, the chief witch doctor whom the accursed Spirits of the Winds sent along the Dark Path with M’Bongwele, the king.”“I see,” said Dick meditatively. “And are there any others concerned with you in this precious scheme of yours to remove Lobelalatutu?”“Yes,” answered Sekosini, “there are Ingona, Lambati, Mapela, Moroosi, Amakosa, N’Ampata, and Sekukuni, all chiefs.”“Quite a formidable little crowd,” mused Dick, as he drew forth his pocket book to make a few notes. “Just repeat those names again—slowly, if you please,” he commanded.Sekosini did so, and Dick noted down the names very carefully, so that there should be no mistake, for some of the native names are quite embarrassingly similar in sound.“Now,” resumed Dick, when he had done this, “to return to ’Nkuni. What is the poison that you have been administering to him?”“It is a decoction of the leaves of the plant that hangs immediately over your head,” answered Sekosini.Dick reached up and touched a thick branch depending from the roof of the hut. “This?” he asked.Sekosini assented, and Dick took down the branch and examined it. It seemed quite an ordinary shrub to all appearance. He handed it over to Mafuta for safekeeping.“Next question,” said Dick. “Is there an antidote to this particular poison?”“Oh yes!” answered the witch doctor cheerfully; “I never use a poison that has no antidote, because it is sometimes desirable to alter one’s plans at the last moment.”“Quite so,” assented Dick; “and I am going to alter your plans with regard to ’Nkuni straight away. Where is your antidote, and how is it prepared?”“It is contained in those roots,” answered Sekosini, pointing to a bundle of bulb-like objects also suspended from the roof. “The method of preparation is simple. A root is taken, cleaned from the adhering soil, and boiled in water until it is soft enough to crush between the fingers. Then the liquid is allowed to cool and strained through cloth. This liquid is of a dark colour, almost black. To administer it, add enough water to stain it very pale yellow, and let the patient drink as he will; the more he drinks the quicker will be his cure.”“Excellent! I shall easily remember that,” murmured Dick. Then, addressing the witch doctor, he said:“That is all I want to know at present. Now, remain here until I summon you to the presence of the king. Mafuta, take these roots, and we will be going.”Two hours later he had prepared a sufficient quantity of the antidote to fill an eight-ounce medicine bottle; and as the stuff was exceedingly strong, he believed that this ought to be nearly, or quite, sufficient to effect a complete cure. Armed with this, he made his way to ’Nkuni’s hut, and was gratified to find that the emetic had been productive of very satisfactory results, the pain being greatly eased, while the temperature of the body had become almost normal. He now administered a good stiff dose of the antidote, and left the bottle containing it in charge of the patient’s wife, giving her the most minute instructions respecting its administration. This done, he proceeded to the enclosed part of the village containing the king’s house and its dependencies, and informed the sentries at the gate of the palisade that he desired to report personally to the king the state of the chief ’Nkuni, from whose hut he had just come. The sentries had already received orders to admit the white men whenever they should present themselves, and in a few minutes Dick found himself standing in the presence of Lobelalatutu.

“Speak freely and without fear, O Lobelalatutu!” answered Dick. “Tell us your trouble; and it may be that we shall, as you say, be able to point the way to deliverance.”

“Then—but first let the light be extinguished,” said the king, pointing to the hurricane lamp suspended from the pole of the tent. “It may be that some of my people, standing yonder in the shadow, hoping to behold some wonder, may see me with you, and, though they might not recognise me, disguised as I am, I would rather that no man should know that you have been secretly visited this night.”

“Right!” answered Dick in English. “I see your point, old chap, and out goes the ‘glim’.” And so saying he took down the lamp, opened, and extinguished it.

“It is well,” approved the king, with a sigh of relief. “Now can I talk without fear of discovery.” He paused for a moment, considering how he should begin, then said: “As we talked to-day, O Healer of Sicknesses!”—the native word for this expression (soon abbreviated to “Healer”) forthwith became Dick’s name among the Makolo from that moment—“you said that you knew what happened to M’Bongwele, the king who ruled before me, and also how I came to be made king in his stead. Know you also the story of Seketulo, whom the Four Spirits made king in M’Bongwele’s stead when they first came among the Makolo?”

“Yes, we know,” answered Dick. “We know that M’Bongwele was dethroned and banished by the four Spirits because of his barbarous and iniquitous rule, and that Seketulo was made king in his stead. We know also that, after a time, M’Bongwele secretly returned from exile, and, aided by certain powerful chiefs, slew Seketulo and reinstated himself as King of the Makolo. And, finally, we know that when the four Spirits revisited this country in their great glittering ship that flies through the air, they again deposed M’Bongwele and hanged him and his chief witch doctor from the bough of a tree, because, despite their previous warning, they persisted in their evil-doing. And in M’Bongwele’s place they made you, Lobelalatutu, King of the Makolo.”

“It is even so, O Healer!” assented the king. “The tale, as you tell it, is the truth; and now I know of a verity that, possessing this knowledge, you are like unto the Spirits themselves, to be trusted, even as they were; therefore will I, without fear, unfold to you the tale of my present trouble. It was the dissatisfaction of certain chiefs with Seketulo’s system of government, as prescribed to him by the four Spirits, that made M’Bongwele’s secret return and his resumption of the throne possible. Seketulo was instructed to govern the Makolo justly and humanely, to put a stop to the oppression of the people by the chiefs, and, above all, not to make war upon the neighbouring nations save in self-defence. It was this last restriction that occasioned the greatest discontent among certain of the chiefs; because, the Makolo being a powerful and warlike nation, we were generally victorious when we went to war, and the greater part of the spoils went to the chiefs, who thus increased their riches as often as we made raids upon our neighbours. But under Seketulo’s rule all this was altered, and we were obliged to be content with such wealth as we already possessed; hence the discontent and all that followed upon it. Now, since I became king, I have endeavoured to govern my people even as Seketulo did; and for a long time things have gone very well with us; the number of the Makolo, no longer kept down by war, has greatly increased, as also has our prosperity; for now that war is no longer part of its policy the nation has devoted itself to agriculture and the breeding of cattle, our herds have greatly multiplied, new villages have sprung up, fresh land has every year been brought under cultivation, and all have enough, and more than enough, to satisfy their wants. But of late I have suspected that, despite our steadily increasing prosperity, all is not well with us. I have detected signs of discontent not only among the chiefs, but among the people themselves; there have been murmurs that the long peace which we have enjoyed is converting the Makolo into a nation of women who will soon lose the capacity for fighting; our neighbours are growing insolent and aggressive; and—worst sign of all—those chiefs who most boldly support me in my determination to continue to rule in accordance with the tenets laid down by the four Spirits, are rapidly dying off, one after the other, by some mysterious disease.”

“Phew! I say, that looks very fishy, doesn’t it, Dick?” exclaimed Grosvenor, when the king had concluded his story. “Smacks of conspiracy and secret murder—eh, what?”

“Yes,” agreed Dick; “I must confess that it undoubtedly has a look of that kind of thing about it.” Then, turning to Lobelalatutu, he asked:

“How long is it since the chiefs who support you began to sicken and die; and how many have already passed along the Dark Path?”

“It is now nearly three moons since ’Mtatu, my most trustworthy chief, died; and since then five others have travelled along the same Dark Road,” answered the king. “And now a seventh, ’Nkuni, lies sick in his hut with the same symptoms as the others. Three nights and two days has he thus lain.”

“And how long does the sickness usually last?” asked Dick, his professional instincts being at once aroused.

“They usually die on the seventh day after the sickness declares itself,” answered the king.

“Good!” responded Dick. “Then your friend is in no immediate danger; and to-morrow, when we present ourselves before you with our gifts, I will see him, and it may be that I shall be able to save his life. Have you aught further to tell us?”

“No,” answered the king. “I have now told all. But I fear that all these things portend evil to me, and, perchance, the end of my reign and life. It is for this reason that I have visited you to-night in secret; for I hoped that if a conspiracy is growing up against me you might be able to name the conpirators to me. That is all the help I ask,” he finished grimly.

“Yes,” answered Dick; “I have no doubt that if we could ascertain the identity of the conspirators—if any—you could be safely trusted to do the rest. Well, we will see what can be done to help you. Must you really go? Well, good night! Take care of yourself; or, in other words,hamba gahli.”

As the tall, dark figure of Lobelalatutu strode away down the slight slope, upon the summit of which the tent was pitched, and melted into the shadows, Grosvenor turned to his companion, who had now re-seated himself, and said:

“It seems to me, friend Dick, that we have arrived upon the scene at the psychological moment—eh, what? If our friend Lobelalatutu’s suspicions have any better foundation than his own imagination, it strikes me that we are on the eve of exciting times. What say you?”

“I say yes to that, most emphatically,” responded Dick. “For, don’t make any mistake, Phil, the king’s imagination is not running away with him; the death of six chiefs in quick succession, followed by the serious illness of a seventh, is something more than mere coincidence; it means conspiracy, followed by ghastly, blood-curdling tragedy—unless we can contrive by some means to discover the identity of the conspirators in time. As for those unfortunate chiefs, I have not the slightest doubt that they have been removed by poison—some secret and comparatively slow but deadly poison, and I intend to make it my first business to discover what that poison is, and its antidote—if I can. The chances are, however, that I shall fail, for almost all the savage peoples possess a great deal more knowledge of drugs, and especially of poisons, than we civilised folk are aware of, or are inclined to credit them with; and if poison is really being employed, it will almost certainly be something of which I have no knowledge. Still, we shall see. And you may be sure that I shall use my very best efforts to succeed, and also to discover the details of the conspiracy which Lobelalatutu suspects; for, should it succeed, we shall find ourselves in an exceedingly awkward predicament.”

“Why—how do you mean?” demanded Grosvenor.

“How do I mean?” repeated Dick. “Why, in a few words, I mean this, that so long as Lobelalatutu lives and continues to govern this people we are reasonably safe. But if he should happen to be deposed, and murdered, the new king will most probably sacrifice us both to his fetish as a sort of thank-offering for his success. Twig?”

“Of course I do,” answered Grosvenor. “I had never thought of that; but it seems likely enough, now that you come to mention it. It appears to me that our first business must be to straighten out matters, for our own sakes as well as for that of Lobelalatutu. Poor chap! Here is he, a despot, with absolute power over the life of every one of his subjects; you would naturally suppose that such a man would have nothing to fear, wouldn’t you? Yet, like other monarchs, he seems liable at any moment to become the victim of secret intrigue, and lose his crown and his life together. I thought the poor chap looked worried when we called upon him to-day. The Bard was right—‘Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown’, be the head that of a civilised monarch or a savage.”

“True for you, my boy,” answered Dick. “But are you not beginning to feel tired? Because, if you are, pray don’t stand on ceremony, but turn in as soon as you like. As for me, I think I will sit up a bit longer and see if I cannot think this matter out and find a streak of daylight somewhere.”

“Which, I suppose, is a hint that you don’t need my company any longer,” retorted Grosvenor. “All right, old chap, pray don’t apologise. I know I’m a bit of a duffer in such matters as this, so I’ll leave you to thresh it out alone, and turn in for a good night’s sleep—eh, what?”

Left to himself, Dick Maitland sat far into the night, considering the situation unfolded to him by the king; and at length an inspiration came to him, by following which he thought it possible that he might be able to clear up the mystery connected with the deaths of Lobelalatutu’s most trusted chiefs, and perhaps discover whether or not there really existed a conspiracy to overthrow that monarch and restore the barbarous practices that had made the rule of the last king literally a reign of terror. Then he turned into his hammock and slept soundly until Mafuta aroused him at sunrise with the early cup of chocolate which was the invariable prelude to the business of the day.

The first thing after breakfast the two friends walked to the wagon, which was outspanned close at hand, and opened the boxes and bales which contained the various articles which they had brought with them to serve as presents and media of barter, and from the contents of these they selected a liberal assortment of gifts for the king, his wives, and the most important chiefs in His Majesty’s immediate entourage. These they handed over to the care of Mafuta, Jantje, and ’Nkuku the voorlouper; then, directing the trio to follow them, Dick and Grosvenor mounted their horses and rode at a foot-pace to the king’s village.

The distribution of the gifts proved to be a somewhat lengthy function, for the articles presented included a considerable number of mechanical toys, the working of each of which had to be carefully explained to the recipient; but at length it came to an end, to the apparent satisfaction of everybody concerned, and then Dick said to the king:

“Your Majesty is aware that I am a healer of sickness; is there any member of your family, or anyone in whom you are interested, lying sick at the present moment? Because, if so, I shall be very glad to do what I can to restore the patient to health.”

The king looked doubtfully at Dick for a moment or two, as though not quite comprehending the drift of the question; then something in the expression of Maitland’s face led to his understanding, and he replied:

“There is no one of my household at present sick, O Healer! but one of my chiefs—a man named ’Nkuni, who is my friend, lies nigh unto death; and if you can heal him I shall be grateful to you, for he is very dear to me. His sickness is the same as that which has already sent six other chiefs along the Dark Path; and it is of so strange and deadly a nature that Sekosini, the head witch doctor, can find no cure for it.”

As the king thus spoke Dick was keenly watching the faces of the various persons present, and he noted with something of a thrill that four or five of the chiefs seemed to exchange stealthy glances of meaning with each other, and also, despite their assumption of indifference, to exhibit signs of inward perturbation. But it was no part of his policy to show that he had observed these things; he therefore responded to the king:

“Ah, it may be that the sickness from which ’Nkuni is suffering is a sickness new to this country; and if it should prove to be so it is not surprising that Sekosini is unable to conquer it. It may be, however, that it is akin to some of the diseases with which I am acquainted, and in that case I can save the chief’s life. We will go to his hut and see him even now, if the king will direct someone to conduct us thither.”

Lobelalatutu at once turned to one of the chiefs present, and said:

“Ingona, you are ’Nkuni’s friend; take these white men to his hut, that the Healer may see him, and perchance restore to him his health and strength.”

Two minutes later Dick stood in the hut of ’Nkuni, and saw, lying stretched upon the pallet before him, a man somewhat past the prime of life who, when in health, must have been a very fine specimen of manhood. Now, however, he was thin and wasted, his skin was cold yet dry, his pulse was exceedingly feeble and erratic, and he was in a terribly exhausted condition, having suffered a severe paroxysm of abdominal pain shortly after swallowing a draught of milk which had been administered to him by Sekosini’s order. This last fact, together with several other details respecting the progress of the disease, were communicated by the man’s chief wife, who appeared to be greatly concerned about him, as was naturally to be expected.

“Where is the vessel from which the milk was drunk?” demanded Dick, when the woman had told all that she had to tell.

A calabash bowl capable of containing about a quart was produced for his inspection, and he saw with satisfaction that it had not yet been washed. The film of milk still clinging to its interior showed that it had been about half full when offered to the patient, and about a teaspoonful of milk still remained in the bowl. Of this vessel Dick instantly took possession, handing it over to Grosvenor, with instructions not to spill a single drop of its contents on any account. Then he asked if any medicine had been administered in the milk, and was answered in the affirmative, a very small calabash bottle being shown which had contained the drug. Of this also Dick took possession. Next, having brought his medicine chest with him, in accordance with the plans which he had made overnight, the young doctor administered a powerful emetic, then he locked the chest, slipped the key into his pocket, and, leaving the chest in the hut to obviate the inconvenience of carrying it to and fro, he gave certain instructions to the chief’s wife, and then requested Ingona to conduct him to the hut of Sekosini, the chief witch doctor.

This request appeared to fill Ingona with alarm, which he made no attempt to conceal. He informed Dick that Sekosini was a very great man indeed, second in power and influence only to Lobelalatutu himself; that it was not his custom to receive visitors unless permission had first been asked, the request being invariably accompanied by a present; that evil invariably befell those who were foolhardy enough to offend him; and that if he—Ingona—might presume to advise, he would strongly recommend the white man not to go near him, as Sekosini had always manifested a peculiarly strong aversion to strangers, and especially to white men since the two visits of the Spirits of the Winds to the Makolo country.

All this, however, only tended to strengthen certain suspicions which Dick had already formed; but he did not express them to Ingona; he blandly explained to that chief that, having been requested by the king to use his best endeavours to cure ’Nkuni, he wished to see Sekosini and consult with him, in order that he might learn as many particulars as possible respecting the ailment from which ’Nkuni was suffering. This explanation appeared at least partially to satisfy Ingona, who made no further attempt to dissuade Dick from his purpose, but, on the contrary, offered to go forward and prepare Sekosini for the proposed visit. To this proposal, since it could scarcely interfere with his plans, Dick cheerfully assented, whereupon Ingona, pointing out the witch doctor’s hut, which stood a good quarter of a mile apart from all others, hastened toward it at the long, swinging trot which enables the South African savage to get over the ground so quickly and which he can maintain for such an incredible length of time.

Dick, meanwhile, accompanied only by Mafuta to act as interpreter, sauntered slowly on his way, for the double purpose of arranging mentally the plan of his impending interview with Sekosini, and giving Ingona time to say whatever he might wish to say to the witch doctor.

It was about a quarter of an hour later that, as Dick and his henchman approached the witch doctor’s hut, Ingona emerged from it with the gratifying intimation that he had succeeded in inducing Sekosini graciously to accord the white man an audience. Whereupon the white man, having suitably expressed the satisfaction which was his at so great an honour, stooped and passed into the hut, preceded by Ingona and followed by Mafuta, whose original wholesome fear of wizards had by this time become completely swamped by his belief in the power of his master to circumvent the most powerful wizard that ever lived.

The hut of Sekosini afforded no indication of the importance of its owner, for it was of the same size as, and in all other respects similar to, the other huts of the ordinary natives, that is, as regarded its external appearance. Inside, however, there was a very marked difference; for whereas the ordinary native is content to sleep on the bare floor, Sekosini was satisfied with nothing less than a bed, consisting of a quadrangular framework of hardwood supported, at the height of a foot above the floor, by four stout posts driven firmly into the ground, the skeleton framework being strapped across and lengthways by a great number of tightly strained raw-hide thongs upon which were piled several very valuable karosses, or skin rugs. Also the interior of the hut was thickly hung with bunches of dried herbs and other objects, the precise nature of which Dick was at first unable to determine in the comparative obscurity of the interior, passing at once, as he did, from the blazing sunshine of the open direct into an interior which was unilluminated save by such light as penetrated through the low, narrow entrance.

For a full minute he stood, mute and motionless, waiting for his eyes to accustom themselves to the change; then the various objects of the interiorgradually began to reveal themselves to him with increasing distinctness, and he found himself face to face with a thin, wizened, shrunken creature of apparently incredible age, without a particle of hair on head or face, but with a pair of eyes that glowed like carbuncles within their cavernous sockets. He was seated cross-legged upon the floor, was absolutely naked, save for a necklace of snake skin, and was toying with an enormous greenmamba—one of the most deadly of South African snakes—that lay coiled between his legs with its cruel, vindictive eyes fixed immovably upon the visitor. Beside Sekosini stood Ingona, apparently impassive, but his quick, irregular breathing betrayed the fact that he was labouring under a considerable amount of excitement. As for the witch doctor, his face wore a smile of concentrated malice, as though he anticipated something in the nature of a conflict with this audacious whitemfanaand was already exulting in the prospect of a quick and overwhelming victory.

Suddenly he fixed his eyes intently upon Dick’s, and said, in soft, sibilant tones:

“Well,’mlungu, what want ye with Sekosini?”

It was the moment and the opportunity for which Dick had been waiting. Gazing intently into the eyes of the savage, in the peculiar manner that he had learned from Humphreys, the young doctor suddenly concentrated his will upon the effort to bring his foe—for as such he intuitively recognised Sekosini—under subjugation. For a moment the strangely contrasted pair gazed at each other, and then some strange sensation experienced by the witch doctor seemed to warn him of what was happening. But it was too late; Dick had caught him unawares, and so absolutely instantaneous was the hypnotic method which Humphreys had taught his pupil that before Sekosini could offer any effective resistance his will had completely succumbed to Dick’s, and he was in the latter’s power. In response to Dick’s unspoken thought he said:

“Ask what you will, and I will answer.”

“You hear?” demanded Dick, turning his gaze for a moment upon Ingona.

“I hear,” answered Ingona, unsuspectingly meeting Dick’s gaze as he replied, and in that moment he, too, was brought under the young doctor’s influence. For a few seconds longer Dick kept his unwinking gaze steadfastly fixed upon the chief, mentally commanding him to forget everything that he might see and hear during the interview; and then he again turned his attention to the witch doctor. He recalled to mind a declaration of Humphreys’ upon which the latter had laid great stress: “The spoken word, where you can use it, is always more potent than the unspoken, but whether it is understood or not is really a minor matter; it is the emphasis, the insistence which is conveyed by speech, added to the will power employed, that renders the operator absolutely irresistible.” As it was of the utmost importance that Sekosini should remain completely under his influence until the whole affair was brought to an end, he now once more sent his compelling gaze into the unblinking eyes of the ancient savage, and finally said to him, in English:

“Henceforth, until I release you, your will is mine; you will think and act only as I direct. You understand?”

“I understand, and will obey,” answered Sekosini.

“Good!” returned Dick. “Now I command you to tell me the absolute truth. Know you anything relative to the sickness from which the chief ’Nkuni is suffering, or the sickness from which ’Mtatu and the other five chiefs died?”

“Yes,” answered Sekosini—and the answer in nowise surprised Dick; “I know all. ’Nkuni is slowly dying of poison administered by me, the same poison that sent ’Mtatu and the other five chiefs along the Dark Path. The destruction of these men is preliminary to the destruction of the king, of whose method of government I and others disapprove. I might have destroyed Lobelalatutu alone; but if the chiefs whom I have destroyed had been allowed to live it would assuredly have led to trouble, therefore have I destroyed them first. When ’Nkuni dies the chiefs who think as I do will be strong enough to act without fear of opposition, and we shall be able to destroy Lobelalatutu and restore the system which prevailed when M’Bongwele reigned, the system by which the chiefs and the witch doctors were able to acquire much wealth instead of living, as we do now, in comparative poverty.”

“Then,” demanded Dick, “do I understand that under Lobelalatutu’s rule you have not a sufficiency to meet all your wants?”

“I have a sufficiency, yes,” answered Sekosini; “but I would have much more than that. I would have wealth, great wealth, and, above all, power, the power that the witch doctors wielded in M’Bongwele’s time. True, I have much power even now; but it is as nothing to the power that was wielded by Mtusa, the chief witch doctor whom the accursed Spirits of the Winds sent along the Dark Path with M’Bongwele, the king.”

“I see,” said Dick meditatively. “And are there any others concerned with you in this precious scheme of yours to remove Lobelalatutu?”

“Yes,” answered Sekosini, “there are Ingona, Lambati, Mapela, Moroosi, Amakosa, N’Ampata, and Sekukuni, all chiefs.”

“Quite a formidable little crowd,” mused Dick, as he drew forth his pocket book to make a few notes. “Just repeat those names again—slowly, if you please,” he commanded.

Sekosini did so, and Dick noted down the names very carefully, so that there should be no mistake, for some of the native names are quite embarrassingly similar in sound.

“Now,” resumed Dick, when he had done this, “to return to ’Nkuni. What is the poison that you have been administering to him?”

“It is a decoction of the leaves of the plant that hangs immediately over your head,” answered Sekosini.

Dick reached up and touched a thick branch depending from the roof of the hut. “This?” he asked.

Sekosini assented, and Dick took down the branch and examined it. It seemed quite an ordinary shrub to all appearance. He handed it over to Mafuta for safekeeping.

“Next question,” said Dick. “Is there an antidote to this particular poison?”

“Oh yes!” answered the witch doctor cheerfully; “I never use a poison that has no antidote, because it is sometimes desirable to alter one’s plans at the last moment.”

“Quite so,” assented Dick; “and I am going to alter your plans with regard to ’Nkuni straight away. Where is your antidote, and how is it prepared?”

“It is contained in those roots,” answered Sekosini, pointing to a bundle of bulb-like objects also suspended from the roof. “The method of preparation is simple. A root is taken, cleaned from the adhering soil, and boiled in water until it is soft enough to crush between the fingers. Then the liquid is allowed to cool and strained through cloth. This liquid is of a dark colour, almost black. To administer it, add enough water to stain it very pale yellow, and let the patient drink as he will; the more he drinks the quicker will be his cure.”

“Excellent! I shall easily remember that,” murmured Dick. Then, addressing the witch doctor, he said:

“That is all I want to know at present. Now, remain here until I summon you to the presence of the king. Mafuta, take these roots, and we will be going.”

Two hours later he had prepared a sufficient quantity of the antidote to fill an eight-ounce medicine bottle; and as the stuff was exceedingly strong, he believed that this ought to be nearly, or quite, sufficient to effect a complete cure. Armed with this, he made his way to ’Nkuni’s hut, and was gratified to find that the emetic had been productive of very satisfactory results, the pain being greatly eased, while the temperature of the body had become almost normal. He now administered a good stiff dose of the antidote, and left the bottle containing it in charge of the patient’s wife, giving her the most minute instructions respecting its administration. This done, he proceeded to the enclosed part of the village containing the king’s house and its dependencies, and informed the sentries at the gate of the palisade that he desired to report personally to the king the state of the chief ’Nkuni, from whose hut he had just come. The sentries had already received orders to admit the white men whenever they should present themselves, and in a few minutes Dick found himself standing in the presence of Lobelalatutu.

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