, son of Teliso, of the Abatembu, under the chief, Umfanta," was
the unhesitating answer.

"And Kulondeka's horse? How didst thou come by it?" asked Mafutana.

"Who is Kulondeka?" said the prisoner, wonderingly.

"Answer questions, do not ask them," interposed Sikonile, furiously,
giving the prisoner a couple of vicious digs in the thigh with his
assegai.

"I found this horse down there," said the latter sullenly, "and it was
standing alone, so I took it. If it is a chief's horse--_au_! here it
is. I thought it was a white man's."

"Where were you going?" queried Mafutana.

But before any answer could be made, an interruption occurred. One of
the bystanders, who had been bending down closely scrutinising the
prisoner's face in the starlight, shot upward with a quick ejaculation.

"_Whau_!" he cried, bringing his hand to his mouth. "See, brothers.
Here is Pato, son of Teliso, of the Abatembu, under the chief, Umfanta.
Should it not rather be Mantisa, son of no Fengu dog in particular, a
spy of the _Amapolise_, under Bokelo? Do I not know him! _Hau_! He it
was who got me a long time in prison, for stealing a sheep which I never
stole. Ha! Welcome to thee, Mantisa. For thee we have a warm bed,
ah-ah--a bed of fire!"

The unfortunate detective, seeing himself unmasked, realised that the
only hope of escape for him was a swift death instead of a long and
lingering one by fiery torment. So, instead of answering, he only spat
contemptuously. A score of assegais were raised. But Sikonile flung
himself in the way.

"See you these?" he said. "Where is Kulondeka?"

"That I know not," came the sullen reply.

"Ha! The fire! The fire will make him speak!" cried several. "To the
fire then! To the Place of the Bones!"

And in a moment the wretched Fingo's arms were tightly bound behind him
with raw-hide, and he himself was hustled along, propelled by kicks and
blows and assegai prods, towards the place of his ghastly death.

But not until they had got some little way did it become known to the
whole party that the horse had disappeared. It had been left standing,
just as it had arisen from the ground, with the bridle still on its
neck. In the prevailing excitement no one had made it his business to
hold it. Now it was gone.

CHAPTER THIRTY.

THE "PLACE OF THE BONES."

Harley Greenoak for once in his life had committed an error of judgment.
He had quite reckoned on the possibility of being f