gifts, equally precious, and that, if the king continues to regard me
with favour, and grants me a certain request which I think of
preferring, a generous share of these gifts shall find their way to the
hut of Machenga."

For an instant my visitor leaned forward, his gleaming eyes fixed
avariciously upon the little pile of trumpery spread out temptingly upon
the lid of the chest, and, as he did so, the upper folds of his kaross
slipped apart, and I caught a momentary glimpse of a most extraordinary
countenance. It was that of an old man, so old that the head was quite
bald and the wrinkled face entirely devoid of hair; but the deeply
sunken eyes glowed like those of a leopard in the dark, the forehead was
broad and high, the nose thin and crooked like the beak of an eagle, the
mouth a mere straight slit, and the thin lips were drawn back in a sort
of incipient snarl. But it was the expression of the face that
particularly arrested my attention, for never before had I beheld a
human countenance on which unimaginable cruelty and boundless rapacity
were so clearly and strongly written. This was no common, ordinary
individual, I at once told myself: there could be but one man in all
Gwanda with such a countenance as that, and I instantly guessed the
truth, that my visitor was none other than Machenga himself.

For a moment or two the talon-like right hand of the man hovered
greedily over the little display; then it flashed back and was lost in
the folds of the kaross, which were quickly drawn round the head again,
all but concealing it from view. The man stepped back a pace and drew
himself up haughtily, and, with a gesture of contempt, pointed to the
gifts.

"Au!" he exclaimed. "Think ye that Machenga craves such baubles as
those? They are well enough for children and fools, but Machenga
accepts only gifts of real value."

"Such, for instance, as--" I suggested.

"One of the magic fire tubes with which you caused a flying pigeon to
fall dead at the king's feet to-day," answered my visitor.

"Nay," said I, "that may not be. It would be no kindness on my part to
give Machenga a fire tube, for he would not know how to use it--"

"But you could teach him," hastily interposed the stranger.

"Nay," answered I, "not so, for it is a thing of magic; and the magic of
the white man is unlike that of the black man, nor can the black man
learn it. Were Machenga to take one of my fire tubes in his hand, one
of two th