e done so, for I
saw that the fellow meant mischief."

As the chief fell prone before them, the excited crowd of savages became
suddenly silent and rigid. Then von Schalckenberg waved his hand toward
the motionless figure, and said in solemn and impressive tones--

"So perish those who presume to dispute the will of the Four Spirits!
Let no one touch him, but let him lie there as a warning to other
rebellious natures--if such, perchance, should be among you."

At this moment, Lobelalatutu and his band reappeared, with M'Bongwele in
their midst. The king's heavy features wore a sullen, savage expression
as he was led forward through the narrow lane that the assembled
warriors opened out for his passage; and he threw upward a single glance
of mingled fear and defiance at the little group of white men as he
advanced. As he reached the open space that intervened between the ship
and the thickly massed crowd of his people, and came to a halt, he
looked quickly about him, and suddenly demanded, in a loud, harsh tone
of voice--

"Where is Malatambu? Let him stand forth!"

"Behold, he lies there, dead, slain by the mighty magic of the Great
Spirits!" answered a chief, pointing to the prostrate body of the man
who had fallen before the professor's rifle.

The king threw a single keen glance at the dead man, grunted
inarticulately, and was silent.

"Listen, M'Bongwele!" said von Schalckenberg. "How is it that, having
banished you for your former evil deeds, we find you here again upon our
return?"

"I was unhappy away from my people, and therefore I returned," answered
the king, sullenly.

"And, having returned, your first act was to slay Seketulo. Is it not
so?" demanded the professor.

"Why should I not slay him?" retorted M'Bongwele. "The Makolo need not
two kings; and Seketulo knew not how to govern them."

"Therefore you slew him?" persisted the professor.

"Therefore I slew him," assented M'Bongwele.

"Also you slew twelve white men and two white women who were found in
distress by your people, although you knew that such acts were
displeasing to us, and that we had forbidden them," asserted the
professor.

"Nay," said M'Bongwele; "I slew but the twelve white men. Of the two
women, the elder slew the younger, and then slew herself. But what
matters it how they died? Am not I the king; and may I not do as I will
in mine own country?"

"And how died the white men?" demanded von Schalckenberg.