the old chief, who was seated on the ground among a small
group a little way off. Tongwana came forward, and saluted Thornhill,
and there was a lot of talk and banter.

"I have not seen thee since the day of the `king of serpents' my
father," the latter was saying.

"_Whau_! that was a great day, and a great snake," chuckled the old man.

"So that's the big chief?" commented Evelyn. "He doesn't look
particularly dignified."

"He's very old," explained Elvesdon. "But whatever he looks he's all
right. He and Zavula are the best men in authority we've got." Then
turning again to the old chief, "What has become of Zavula, my father?
Three times have I sent for him, and it is said that he is lying sick."

"I had not heard that, _Nkose_. But I am growing old. The young men
toss the news about from one to the other; but we old ones--_au_! It is
good night."

"It's rather a rum thing, Thornhill, but I'm not quite easy in my mind
about old Zavula. He came to the office to tell me a very queer story
the last time I saw him, and every time I ask after him they say he is
sick."

"H'm!" said Thornhill, drily.

"He's such a straight old chap too. Now I think we can shut up shop--
you ladies would like tea, I know, before the fun begins."

It was the middle of the afternoon, blue and cloudless. The camp was
pitched upon a slight eminence, the ground falling away, grassy and
open, on either side. Crowning another eminence less than a mile away
stood Tongwana's kraal--its numerous huts forming a circle after the
Zulu fashion, though not surrounded by a ring fence, and near it, along
a bushy ridge, stood several lesser kraals. In the clear stillness of
the air the voices of their denizens and the occasional barking of dogs
is distinctly borne hither.

"You'll see something now, Evelyn," said Edala. "A Kafir dance is no
end exciting. I always long to join in."

"How many will take part in it?"

"Oh I daresay Tongwana can turn us out a couple of hundred at a pinch,"
said Elvesdon. "Perhaps more."

Already dark forms converging in groups upon the chief's kraal seemed,
by their numbers, to give colour to the last statement.

"More, I hope," pronounced Edala.

The police escort, who, with Prior, were to convey back the proceeds of
the collecting, had saddled up and were all ready to march, when one
trooper stepped forward, and saluting Elvesdon begged to be allowed to
remain and witness the dancing. He was