r Natal natives, with their strong admixture
of Zulu blood, sat together in gloomy silence. Every one of them,
however, had a short stabbing assegai concealed beneath his blanket,
ready to sell his life as dearly as possible, and these preparations
they hardly took the trouble to dissemble from the chief's councillor,
Sonkwana, who still remained at the waggons, squatting on the ground
tranquilly taking snuff from time to time, a very model of taciturnity.

Thus the day wore on, and still no sign of the returning pursuit. With
great good luck Gerard would have reached the king's kraal by that time
to-morrow. Then from speculating as to how his brave young companion
had fared, Dawes's mind went back to the scene of the previous night.
His shaft had told. The threat to appeal to Cetywayo had not been
without its effect upon Ingonyama, and that effect a considerable one.
Still, with morning no message of emancipation had come from the chief,
and Dawes did not think it advisable once more to trust himself within
the kraal; and not being the man to ask another to go where he preferred
not to venture himself, he refrained from sending one of his servants
upon this errand. Still he was very uneasy.

Still more uneasy would he have been, could he have overheard the
conference then proceeding in the chief's hut. Seated around in a half
circle, Ingonyama, Vunawayo, and some three or four councillors were
engaged in earnest discussion, the subject nothing less than the
advisability of putting him and his to the assegai forthwith. The chief
could hardly contain his chagrin and impatience.

"If they return and fail to kill or bring back the boy," he was saying,
"six of their leaders shall die. The Tooth shall bite them. They
deserve that for allowing him to slip through them."

"We have kept this white man and his Kafula dogs too long," said
Vunawayo, darkly. "Why not begin with him, now, this very day?"

"Ha! He is no fool, this Jandosi," said Ingonyama, with a ferocious
scowl. "What if his dog already barks in the ear of the king?"

"Even then, is not the bark of one dog, less than that of two--of
several?" urged Vunawayo. "The king might not listen to one where he
might to many. Besides, he has less and less reason to love the
English; who, men whisper, are trying to pick a quarrel with him about
one thing after another. Such is not the time for whispering into his
ear tales against his own chiefs--against the