tailed in the morning.

"Now ye have heard, chiefs," said Infadoos, when he had done, "what say
ye: will ye stand by this man and help him to his father's throne, or
will ye not? The land cries out against Twala, and the blood of the
people flows like the waters in spring. Ye have seen to-night. Two
other chiefs there were with whom I had it in my mind to speak, and
where are they now? The hyaenas howl over their corpses. Soon shall ye
be as they are if ye strike not. Choose then, my brothers."

The eldest of the six men, a short, thick-set warrior, with white hair,
stepped forward a pace and answered--

"Thy words are true, Infadoos; the land cries out. My own brother is
among those who died to-night; but this is a great matter, and the
thing is hard to believe. How know we that if we lift our spears it may
not be for a thief and a liar? It is a great matter, I say, of which
none can see the end. For of this be sure, blood will flow in rivers
before the deed is done; many will still cleave to the king, for men
worship the sun that still shines bright in the heavens, rather than
that which has not risen. These white men from the Stars, their magic
is great, and Ignosi is under the cover of their wing. If he be indeed
the rightful king, let them give us a sign, and let the people have a
sign, that all may see. So shall men cleave to us, knowing of a truth
that the white man's magic is with them."

"Ye have the sign of the snake," I answered.

"My lord, it is not enough. The snake may have been placed there since
the man's childhood. Show us a sign, and it will suffice. But we will
not move without a sign."

The others gave a decided assent, and I turned in perplexity to Sir
Henry and Good, and explained the situation.

"I think that I have it," said Good exultingly; "ask them to give us a
moment to think."

I did so, and the chiefs withdrew. So soon as they had gone Good went
to the little box where he kept his medicines, unlocked it, and took
out a note-book, in the fly-leaves of which was an almanack. "Now look
here, you fellows, isn't to-morrow the 4th of June?" he said.

We had kept a careful note of the days, so were able to answer that it
was.

"Very good; then here we have it--'4 June, total eclipse of the moon
commences at 8.15 Greenwich time, visible in Teneriffe--_South Africa_,
&c.' There's a sign for you. Tell them we will darken the moon
to-morrow night."

The idea was a splendid one; indeed, t