aid of his sergeant, was drawing up an
official report, and making general examination. It was clear that the
whole family had been set upon and treacherously massacred.

And those who looked upon these pitiful remains--a black lust of
vengeance was set up in their hearts which was destined to burn there
for many a long day. Woe to the savage who should meet these men in
battle, or who, vanquished, should expect mercy. Such mercy they might
expect as they had shown; and what that mercy was let the mutilated
remains of father, mother, and little children treacherously slaughtered
beneath their own roof-tree speak for themselves. "Remember the
Hollingworths," would henceforth be a sufficient rallying cry to those
who had stood here, when the savage foe should stand before them.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

IN SAVAGE WILDS.

In the morning, peace, tranquillity, security; in the evening, violence,
bloodshed, death--such is the sort of contrast that life seems to enjoy
affording, especially life in a barbarous land--and however it may
appeal to those at a distance from its tragedy, to a refined English
girl, brought up amid the comforts of an advanced civilisation, unused,
alike, to scenes of violence or to the endurance of hardships, the
matter is different. Which may be taken to mean that the position in
which Nidia Commerell now found herself was simply appalling.

She was alone--alone in a strange wild land--surrounded by beings who
were devils in human shape; at their mercy, in fact; and, we repeat,
what that "mercy" would be likely to mean, let those fearful remains
within the ill-fated dwelling testify. Whither could she turn--whither
fly?

Night was falling fast. Where would she find shelter, let alone food?
Not at the price of her life would she enter that awful room again. She
dared not. She felt that her reason would go. That sight repeated
would turn her into a maniac, and indeed that this had not already
happened was due to the saving diversion effected by the finding of poor
little Jimmie, and his partial revival. Action. This alone had saved
her.

She could not remain where she was. The murderers might return. Little
Jimmie's last words came back to her--"Down below the river-bank. They
won't look for you there." Yes; she would go.

But the dead boy? She could not leave him thus, in the open. Two huts
which did duty for outhouses stood at the back of the house. One of
these was locked.