to make preparations for carrying out the
dread sentence of death.

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.

JUST IN TIME.

It was soon known to the captives, what mode of death was to be adopted
for them. The gestures of the chief made it manifest, that he was about
to make trial of his new weapon,--Willem's roer.

One reason why his prisoners had been spared so long may have been for
the purpose of learning how to use the weapon with effect, on an
occasion so important as the execution of two white men.

The rheims that bound Hendrik's wrists had been tied much tighter than
was necessary. The green hide had shrunk in the burning sun to which
the prisoners had been exposed during the day. In consequence, his
hands were lacerated and swollen, and he was suffering more torture than
either of the others.

This was not all the agony he was enduring. The fate Congo at first
only conjectured had now assumed a horrible certainty. Death seemed
inevitable; and Hendrik's active mind, susceptible of strong emotions,
became painfully anxious at the approach of death. He feared it. Nor
did that fear arise from an ignoble cause. It was simply the love of
life, and the desire to cling to it.

He who loves not life is unworthy of its blessings; for those who hold
them cheap, and would part with them willingly, have either not the
sense to appreciate, or are so evil as only to know life's bitterness.

Hendrik had a strong desire to live,--to enjoy future days;--and, as he
looked upon the preparations being made to deprive him of it, he felt an
unutterable anguish. Of all his regrets at parting with the world,
there was one supreme,--one thought that was uppermost. That thought
was given to Wilhelmina Van Wyk. He should never see her again! His
love of her was stronger than his love of life.

"Willem," he exclaimed, "must this be? Shall we die here? I will
not,--I cannot!"

As he spoke, the whole strength of his soul and body was concentrated
into one effort for regaining his liberty. He struggled to release his
wrists from the rheims. The effort was not without a result. It sent
the drops of blood dripping from the ends of his fingers.

Groot Willem was not unmoved in these dire moments. He too had his
unwillingness to die,--his chapter of regrets. One, that he should
never again see his relatives; another, that the object for which he had
undertaken the expedition could never be accomplished.

The faithful Kaffir w