re the boys had been left for the lion, halfway between
village and hut, the tribe was halted. Mbopo arranged the men and women
in a wide semicircle, evidently following the orders of Critch. The
"drum corps" was then brought to the front, the greater part of the
torches were extinguished, and Critch, Mbopo and the bearers of the
relics moved forward. Burt saw his chum stop at a point distant about a
hundred feet from the hut and directly in front of the gateway.

After a slight delay, a fire was lit here. This presently blazed up,
Critch wishing to wait until plenty of light was cast upon the sacred
objects and the gateway of the ivory zareba. At a signal from Mbopo the
tom-toms began a steady, regular beat and the pigmies broke into a low
chant that swelled at intervals until the echoes came back faintly from
the forest. Burt watched the scene through his loophole in silent
fascination. He had no fears as to its outcome, for the dwarfs were
plainly under the dominance of Critch.

Now the fire blazed up higher and higher. Burt saw his chum, whose
flaming hair glowed out in the ruddy light, suddenly raise his hand. The
drums and chanting stopped abruptly, and the dead silence that ensued
sent a quiver through the boy behind the ivory stockade. Critch bent
over, opened the skin bundle, and exposed the mummy to view. At this,
one prolonged groan went up from the audience and the crowd went down on
their faces, even Mbopo falling prostrate.

Moving a step forward, Critch faced the sacred hut and began to speak.
His voice came faintly at first, but as he gained confidence it rang
louder. The words came plainly to Burt. Critch first delivered all the
French he could think of, then broke into Antony's oration, which he had
learned at school the year before. Perhaps fearing that Mbopo might
comprehend too much of this, Critch switched off abruptly and delivered
a complete conjugation of the Latin verb "habeo," speaking slowly and
distinctly in as deep a voice as he could assume.

Burt was doubled up in silent laughter, and he saw his chum pause at
times as though struggling to repress his feelings also. But his face
was away from the pigmies, and his voice remained firm enough. Burt
could well imagine the effect produced by all this mummery upon the
ignorant and highly superstitious pigmies, ridiculous as it might appear
to him.

Finally Critch ran out of words, it seemed, for he stopped suddenly. The
firelight gleamed on