ead he had of
the doctor. Shouldering our arms, with our knapsacks on our backs, we
left the house, closing the door behind us, and marched boldly towards
the fetish house, a sort of temple situated near the residence of the
king. The number of people collected round it showed that something was
going forward. At the further end of the structure--a sort of temple
composed of rough timber with a thatched roof--was a hideous idol
standing in a shrine raised on an altar, for such it resembled, possibly
imitated from the Portuguese who once held sway in the land, and
established for a short period what they called Christianity, although
it was in reality an idolatrous system, scarcely superior in the effect
it produced on the moral and religious sentiments of the people to that
which it displaced. This Christianity, however, such as it was, had
long ago been overthrown, and only such slight traces as I now observed
remained. I may here remark, that wherever the Spaniards and Portuguese
have established their religion, the people have invariably sunk back
again into the barbarism and gross idolatry of their original state,
indeed, it might be safe to say that they were never really raised out
of idolatry. On getting nearer we saw that the king was standing in
front of the temple, with a drawn scimitar of enormous size in his hand.
We were hurrying forward, when the starling cry arose. "The queen is
dead, the queen is dead!"

The multitude immediately uttered the most piercing shrieks and
lamentations. Directly afterwards we caught sight of the hideous
doctor, or priest, urging on a party who were dragging forward a person
between them. We did not at first see the features of the latter, and
it was not until he had been hauled up on the platform, where the king
was standing, that we discovered him to be our friend Shimbo. His hands
were tied behind his back, so that he was unable to make any movement
with them. He cast an imploring look around him, for he knew but too
well why he was brought there.

Harry on seeing him shouted out to the king: "Let that man go, he is our
servant."

But the king, taking no notice of what was said, flourished his long
sword. The multitude shouted and howled, the weapon flashed in the
sunlight, and the next instant Shimbo fell, and his head rolled along
the floor of the temple. The maddened cries of the superstitious mob on
this grew louder, and many of the elders and chiefs of t