wly roasted to death with red-hot stones, or spread naked over a
nest of black ants; of settlers, surprised by the suddenness of the
outbreak, driven back to perish in the flaming ruins of their own
homesteads. And now he himself was in the power of these very fiends!
They were dragging him back to put him to some such end, to delight the
whole location with the spectacle of his lingering torments. Shuddering
with horror at the thought, the unfortunate fellow hardly noticed
whither he was being hurried. Then he was suddenly and roughly flung to
the ground, his legs tightly tied together at the ankles, by which he
was now seized, and unceremoniously dragged through what he guessed to
be the door of a hut.

Once within, a light was struck; the homely match of civilisation
flaring feebly, but just enough to render more fiend-like still the
fell, savage faces and forms decked with their wild war-trappings. This
the prisoner was able to make out for a moment, for the blanket which
covered his head and shoulders was removed. But only for a moment, for
an effectual gag was forced into his mouth, and then the suffocating,
nauseous covering was replaced. After a minute or two of muttered
conversation, his captors withdrew.

And now for the unfortunate Dick Selmes followed a night of
indescribable horror. To the certainty of being dragged forth at dawn
to a death of unimaginable agony was added the torments of the present--
the cramping pain of his bonds, the nauseous suffocation of the gag, and
the bites of innumerable small pests of no account whatever to the
savage, but calculated to drive a highly civilised and utterly helpless
white man to the verge of insanity. Rescue! Of that there was no hope.
The Police troop might hold its own on the defensive, but, after what
he had seen last night, he could not believe it would stand a chance
against these fierce warriors fighting on their own ground; besides, he
himself would be murdered the first thing. And then he remembered how
he of his own act had effectually cut off all trace as to his
whereabouts. Even Harley Greenoak would fail to fathom the mystery of
his disappearance--until too late. Again and again he bitterly cursed
his own rashness.

Then, as the remaining hours of the night wore on, merciful Nature came
to the relief of the sufferer, in that he sank into a state somewhat
between sleep and unconsciousness, which at length took shape in a
dream. The Polic