“Yes; and come to judgment.”

“And will those whose bodies have been left to waste and to wither on the desert plains and scattered to the winds again arise?” asked the king, with a kind of triumph, as though this time he had fixed the missionary.

“Yes!” answered he, with emphasis; “not one will be left behind.”

After looking at his visitor for a few moments, Makaba turned to his people, saying in a stentorian voice:  “Hark, ye wise men, whoever is among you, the wisest of past generations, did ever your ears hear such strange and unheard-of news?”

Receiving an answer in the negative, he laid his hand upon Moffat’s breast and said, “Father, I love you much.  Your visit and your presence have made my heart as white as milk.  The words of your mouth are sweet as honey, but the words of a resurrection are too great to be heard.  I do not wish to hear again about the dead rising!  The dead cannot arise!  The dead must not arise!”

“Why,” inquired the missionary, “can so great a man refuse knowledge and turn away from wisdom?  Tell me, my friend, why I must not add to words and speak of a resurrection?”

Raising and uncovering his arm which had been strong in battle, and shaking his hand as if quivering a spear, he replied, “I have slain my thousands, and shall they arise!”

“Never before,” adds Mr. Moffat in his Missionary Labours, “had the light of Divine revelation dawned upon his savage mind, and of course his conscience had never accused him, no, not for one of the thousands of deeds of rapine and murder which had marked his course through a long career.”

Starting homewards, the Griqua hunting party, for some altogether unexplained reason, announced their intention of returning with the missionary instead of remaining behind to hunt; a most providential circumstance, which in all probability saved the lives of Moffat and his followers and many more besides.

A few hours after leaving Makaba, messengers met the returning company from Tauane, the chief of the Barolongs, asking the help of the missionary party as he was about to be attacked by the Mantatees.  On reaching Pitsana they found that such was the case.  The attack was made and repelled by the Griquas, about twenty in number, mounted and armed with guns; and thus the town was saved, the flight of its inhabitants into the Kalahari desert, there to perish of hunger and thirst, prevented, and the safety of Robert Moffat and his companions secured.

The time during which Moffat had been absent from Lattakoo, had been a most anxious one for his wife and those who remained at the station.  A band of marauders had gathered in the Long Mountains, about forty miles to the westward, and after attacking some villages on the Kuruman, had threatened an attack on the Batlaping and the mission premises.  The dreaded Mantatees were also reported to be in the neighbourhood.  One night when Mary Moffat was alone with her little ones and the two Bushmen children, Mr. Hamilton and the assistants being away at the new station, a loud rap came at the door, and inquiring who was there, Mothibi himself replied.  He brought word that the Mantatees were approaching.