that blood.
So they howled, and stamped, and clamoured, crying again and again that
these should be given over to them. Here was a curious contrast.
Little less than half of them had been quiet, civil, peaceable storeboys
or rickshaw drawers in the towns until a few months ago--some, even,
still wore the decorative horns affected by those pursuing the latter
useful calling--ready to greet their present prisoners with smiles and
civility; to exchange chaff with them, and to receive the reward of
their labours with whole-hearted geniality. Now, as by the wave of a
magic wand, they had reverted to their original barbarism. Every
vestige of civilised clothing had been discarded, and they now stood
forth, naked, bloodthirsty savages, rattling shields and assegais, and
thirsting for all the cruelty of barbarian vengeance.

Nteseni made a hardly perceptible sign. There was a sudden,
overwhelming rush forward. The young Police trooper was swept away from
the other two. There was a confusion of leaping, howling forms. It was
in vain that both Thornhill and Elvesdon strove to make themselves
heard. The tumult was too deafening. They were borne back, assegais
flashing zig-zag lightning before their eyes. They went through a
hundred deaths. But of their comrade in adversity they saw no more.

He the while, was dragged to the feet of the chief and barbarously
butchered. Then into his poor bleeding, mutilated body these fiends
drove their assegais, again and again, anointing themselves with the
blood, in some instances even licking it. And the roar of their
devilish blood-song reached these other two, sitting within the hut into
which they had been forced back, looking into each other's faces with
stony horror, with a glance that seemed to say: "What could we have
done?" And the answer could only be: "Nothing."

But their turn would come next. And there was no escape.

In gloomy horror thus they sat, listening to the dreadful clamour of
many voices outside like ravening beasts all howling for their blood.
For upwards of an hour this continued, and the strain became so great
that it was all they could do not to go forth, and say, "Here, work your
will." Then, suddenly, the hubbub ceased and an authoritative voice was
heard addressing the multitude. And then indeed did Thornhill, at any
rate, know the very depths of all hope abandoned, for the voice was that
of Manamandhla--of Manamandhla, for every reason under the