rik.

Congo explained, that their captors belonged to a wandering tribe of
Zooloo Kaffirs, a warlike people, who had but little respect for white
men. They were of a race that demanded tribute of the Portuguese at the
north, and obtained it; and he was sure that they would never forgive
the insult of their chief being knocked down in the presence of his
subjects. That, alone, would lead to their being killed.

His explanation of the reason why they were not killed immediately
showed him to be so well acquainted with the manners and customs of the
people into whose hands they had fallen, that, after its relation,
Willem and Hendrik could no longer doubt the truth of his assertions.

He said that white men were never put to death within sight of the
kraal, lest the affair might be talked of by the women and children in
the presence of other white men who might pass through the country.
Although all might be well aware of their fate, but few would witness
their execution. They would be led away some night, two or three miles
from the village and then put to death. Their executioners would return
to the kraal with the story that they had been sent back to their own
country.

The chief, Congo believed, was not yet ready to witness their execution,
being too well pleased with his late acquired property to think of any
other business for the present.

Willem and Hendrik, after all that had been told them, were not prepared
to give up every hope. Some chance to escape might offer, though it
should be with bare life; for they could not expect to take with them
their horses and guns.

As evening came on, the watch over the prisoners seemed less strictly
kept than during the earlier hours of the day. But in vain they strove
to rend the thongs that bound them, or slip from their embrace. They
had been too securely tied, most likely by one whose experience, alas!
had been but too well perfected in the enslavement of his own unhappy
countrymen.

During the evening, an individual was observed approaching. Stepping up
to where Groot Willem was bound, he commenced an earnest scrutiny of his
features.

Willem fancied that the man had a familiar look, and, examining him
attentively, he recognised no less a personage than the banished Sindo,
the individual whom he had saved from the wrath of Macora. Here was a
sudden transition from despair to hope. Surely the would-be chief could
not be ungrateful! Perhaps he would in