e white man is here. Now take thy other sons, and go and kill
him."

There was a touch of mockery in the tone. The words were, in fact, a
challenge. Sikonile leapt to his feet.

"That will I do!" he blared forth, gesticulating with anger, for he was
worked up to a blaze of revengeful exaltation. "That will I do!" And
tearing down a bundle of assegais which hung against the side of the
hut, he made for the door. But before he could gain it another voice
spoke.

"Pause, brother. I have a better plan than that."

The angry man paused.

"A better plan!" he sneered. "Plans--always plans! _Whau_! I like not
such. We have heard too much of plans lately. It is now time to act.
One act is worth ten times ten plans. Yet, what is thy `plan,'
Mafutana?"

"Hear it then, Sikonile. What sort of poor revenge would it be to kill
Kulondeka, to kill him at once so that he feels nothing, and to get
thyself and thy sons killed for violating the house of the son of the
Great Chief--for this is surely what would happen? Should we not rather
collect our sons together, and, stealing out from the kraals by twos and
threes, meet after dark, and take him when he leaves to-night to return
home? For he will leave to-night."

A murmur of applause met this proposal. The vengeful father was
impressed.

"Why, that is something of a plan," he said. "But what if it should
fail? Yet, it should not."

"It should not, for it will be easy," was the answer. "We can ambush
every way by which he will leave. Then, think what your revenge will
be. We will carry him to the `Place of the Bones,' and spend the night
burning him alive, even as we did the traitor Nemvu. _Whau_! what an
end for Kulondeka! A great, a noble end. You, Sikonile, in each of his
groans, as the fire eats into sinew and flesh and nerve, will hear the
glad laughter of Nzinto, whom he slew. Now, say. Is not my plan the
better? It will avoid trouble, for Matanzima, to whom all the fighters
look up, will never know. And, what a noble revenge it will afford
thee."

An emphatic hum of approval went up from the entire gathering. Mafutana
was a genius. And then all heads were grouped together in an eager,
under-toned discussion, and, seen through the thick, dim smoke-cloud,
the grim ferocious faces were as those of demons exulting over the
torment of a newly acquired soul.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Harley G