roceeded from a very tall man, taller even than Kumbelwa, who
stood forth a little from the rest. He was a magnificent savage as he
stood there, clad in his war costume, his head thrown haughtily back,
his hand resting on his great shield. But the glance wherewith he
favoured them was one of supercilious command, almost of hostility.
Both Haviland and Oakley felt an instinctive dislike and distrust for
the man as they returned his glance.

"Who is the warrior I see before me?" asked Haviland, courteously,
realising that this man was chief in command of the _impi_.

"I am Dumaliso," was the reply. "You must go with us."

And somehow both our friends realised that their troubles were by no
means over.

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

WERE THEY PRISONERS?

The first elation of their most timely rescue cooled, Haviland and
Oakley realised that they had no very bright outlook before them, under
the changed condition of things. Instead of their return to
civilisation and the outside world after their long exile--a return,
too, bearing with them the results of a highly successful enterprise,
and which every day had been bringing nearer and nearer--here they were
virtually captives once more, in process of being marched back further
and further from the goal to which they had looked; back, indeed, into
unknown wilds, and at the mercy of a barbarian despot whose raids and
massacres had set up a reputation for cruelty which surpassed that of
Mushad himself.

The conditions of the march, too, were exhausting even to themselves.
Twenty-five, even thirty miles a day, were as nothing to these sinewy
savages. They did not, however, take a straight line, but diverged
considerably every now and then to fall upon some unhappy village.
Contrary, however, to custom, they perpetrated no massacres on these
occasions. What they did do was to show off Mushad and his principal
followers, with slave-yokes on their necks, and under every possible
circumstance of ignominy, in order that all might see that the terrible
and redoubted slaver chief was a mere dog beside the power of the Great
King. This revolted the two Englishmen, and however little reason they
had to commiserate their late enemies, at any rate these were brave men,
and they had expected that a brave race like the Inswani would have
recognised this. At last they said as much.

It happened that Dumaliso had compelled several of the meanest of the
villagers to lash Mushad.