town murdering
every one they encountered. In a few moments our own door was battered
down by the barbarians, and Jen-ken, torch in hand, made his
appearance, claiming us as prisoners.

Of course, we submitted without resistance, for although fully armed,
the odds were so great in those ante-revolver days, that we would have
been overwhelmed by a single wave of the infuriated crowd. The
barbarian chief instantly selected our house for his headquarters, and
despatched his followers to complete their task. Prisoner after
prisoner was thrust in. At times the heavy mash of a war club and the
cry of strangling women, gave notice that the work of death was not
yet ended. But the night of horror wore away. The gray dawn crept
through our hovel's bars, and all was still save the groans of wounded
captives, and the wailing of women and children.

By degrees, the warriors dropped in around their chieftain. A
_palaver-house_, immediately in front of my quarters, was the general
rendezvous; and scarcely a _bushman_ appeared without the body of
some maimed and bleeding victim. The mangled but living captives were
tumbled on a heap in the centre, and soon, every avenue to the square
was crowded with exulting savages. Rum was brought forth in abundance
for the chiefs. Presently, slowly approaching from a distance, I
heard the drums, horns, and war-bells; and, in less than fifteen
minutes, a procession of women, whose naked limbs were smeared with
chalk and ochre, poured into the palaver-house to join the beastly
rites. Each of these devils was armed with a knife, and bore in her
hand some cannibal trophy. Jen-ken's wife, a corpulent wench of
forty-five,--dragged along the ground, by a single limb, the slimy
corpse of an infant ripped alive from its mother's womb. As her eyes
met those of her husband the two fiends yelled forth a shout of
mutual joy, while the lifeless babe was tossed in the air and caught
as it descended on the point of a spear. Then came the _refreshment_,
in the shape of rum, powder, and blood, which was quaffed by the
brutes till they reeled off, with linked hands, in a wild dance
around the pile of victims. As the women leaped and sang, the men
applauded and encouraged. Soon, the ring was broken, and, with a
yell, each female leaped on the body of a wounded prisoner and
commenced the final sacrifice with the mockery of lascivious
embraces!

In my wanderings in African forests I have often seen the tiger pounce