to wear upon my hand, so that
the snake about my neck may be less lonely there."

"Then I am afraid you will have to wait till I am dead," said Hadden.

"Yes, yes," she answered in a pleased voice, "it is a good word. I will
wait till you are dead and then I will take the ring, and none can say
that I have stolen it, for Nahoon there will bear me witness that you
gave me permission to do so."

For the first time Hadden started, since there was something about
the Bee's tone that jarred upon him. Had she addressed him in her
professional manner, he would have thought nothing of it; but in her
cupidity she had become natural, and it was evident that she spoke from
conviction, believing her own words.

She saw him start, and instantly changed her note.

"Let the white lord forgive the jest of a poor old witch-doctoress," she
said in a whining voice. "I have so much to do with Death that his name
leaps to my lips," and she glanced first at the circle of skulls about
her, then towards the waterfall that fed the gloomy pool upon whose
banks her hut was placed.

"Look," she said simply.

Following the line of her outstretched hand Hadden's eyes fell upon two
withered mimosa trees which grew over the fall almost at right angles to
its rocky edge. These trees were joined together by a rude platform made
of logs of wood lashed down with _riems_ of hide. Upon this platform
stood three figures; notwithstanding the distance and the spray of the
fall, he could see that they were those of two men and a girl, for their
shapes stood out distinctly against the fiery red of the sunset sky.
One instant there were three, the next there were two--for the girl had
gone, and something dark rushing down the face of the fall, struck the
surface of the pool with a heavy thud, while a faint and piteous cry
broke upon his ear.

"What is the meaning of that?" he asked, horrified and amazed.

"Nothing," answered the Bee with a laugh. "Do you not know, then, that
this is the place where faithless women, or girls who have loved without
the leave of the king, are brought to meet their death, and with them
their accomplices. Oh! they die here thus each day, and I watch them
die and keep the count of the number of them," and drawing a tally-stick
from the thatch of the hut, she took a knife and added a notch to
the many that appeared upon it, looking at Nahoon the while with a
half-questioning, half-warning gaze.

"Yes, yes, it is a place of