" he said.

"Antonio," cried the chief, in a voice that brought the interpreter to
his side in a twinkling; "what name did the white man speak just now?"

"Azinte," said Harold, rising to a sitting posture.

Kambira sat down, drew up his knees to his chin, and clasped his hands
round them.

"Tell me all you know about Azinte," he said in a low, firm voice.

It was evident that the chief was endeavouring to restrain some powerful
feeling, for his face, black though it was, indicated a distinct degree
of pallor, and his lips were firmly compressed together. Harold
therefore, much surprised as well as interested, related the little he
knew about the poor girl,--his meeting with her in Yoosoof's hut;
Disco's kindness to her, and her subsequent departure with the Arab.

Kambira sat motionless until he had finished.

"Do you know where she is gone?" he inquired.

"No. I know not; but she was not in the boat with the other slaves when
we sailed, from which I think it likely that she remained upon the
coast.--But why do you ask, Kambira, why are you so anxious about her?"

"She is my wife," muttered the chief between his teeth; and, as he said
so, a frown that was absolutely diabolical settled down on his features.

For some minutes there was a dead silence, for both Harold and Disco
felt intuitively that to offer consolation or hope were out of the
question.

Presently Kambira raised his head, and a smile chased the frown away as
he said--"You have been kind to Azinte, will you be kind to her
husband?"

"We should be indeed unworthy the name of Englishmen if we said no to
that," replied Harold, glancing at Disco, who nodded approval.

"Good. Will you take me with you to the shores of the great salt lake?"
said Kambira, in a low, pathetic tone, "will you make me your servant,
your slave?"

"Most gladly will I take you with me as _a friend_," returned Harold.
"I need not ask why you wish to go," he added,--"you go to seek Azinte?"

"Yes," cried the chief, springing up wildly and drawing himself up to
his full height, "I go to seek Azinte. Ho! up men! up! Ye have feasted
enough and slept enough for one night. Who knows but the slavers may be
at our huts while we lie idly here? Up! Let us go!"

The ringing tones acted like a magic spell. Savage camps are soon
pitched and sooner raised. In a few minutes the obedient hunters had
bundled up all their possessions, and in less than a quarter of an hour
the