ut allowed the martyrs to tumble into the ditch and
writhe there in agony for some time with the spears still sticking in
them. Happily, in the case of Rasalama, the thrusts were--either
intentionally or accidentally--more effective than usual. After a very
brief struggle, her happy soul was set free to be "for ever with the
Lord."

In that ditch her poor mangled body was left to be devoured by the wild
dogs that frequent all places in Madagascar where criminals suffer.
_See Note 2_.

"Oh, God!" exclaimed Mark, unable to repress a groan. "Let us quit this
accursed spot."

"Stay, sir, stay," whispered the sailor at his elbow, "you forget Mamba.
More are comin'."

More martyrs were indeed coming, as the singing of hymns proved.

Close on the heels of Rasalama, a band of nine other Christians were
carried to the place of execution, each with his feet and hands tied
together and slung on a pole, the ends of which were borne by two men.
Straw had been stuffed into their mouths to prevent praying or singing,
but several of them, managing to get rid of the straw, burst into the
triumphal songs which had attracted the attention of our seaman.

Arrived at the ditch, the victims were asked if they would give up
praying to Jesus. In every case the answer was a decided "No!" They
were then thrust into the ditch, forced down on their knees, and made to
bend forward. While this was being done, the shuddering friends of
Mamba perceived that he was not among the martyrs. One by one each
unfortunate was stabbed in the loins, close on either side of the
back-bone, but not one was terrified into recanting, although by so
doing he might have been restored at once to life and liberty. The
truth of that word, "As thy days thy strength shall be," was clearly and
wonderfully proved in the case of these sufferers. After all had
fallen, their heads were cut off and placed in a row on the edge of the
ditch. Five of the nine belonged to one family.

One man who had been reserved to the last, for some reason or other that
was net explained, was led to the brow of the precipice, and the same
question was put to him that had been put to his fellow-martyrs. From
the spot on which he stood he could look down into the awful gulf, a
sheer descent of sixty feet first to a place where a ledge projected,
and then, a further descent of still greater depth to the bottom, where
the ground was covered with rocks and debris from the cliffs.