What were they?  He had seen fungus glow like that in the forest, but never so many together.  And then he strained his ears to gather from any sound an inkling of their nature, but, beyond the bellowings and the sullen roar, he could hear nothing.  How long could he stand the suspense?  Already he felt a strong impulse to jump up, to shout, to break up that fixed regard, to come to the death-grapple, if need be, rather than sit there in doubt.  The minutes slipped by slowly; each slowly spun its time out, as if every minute were an hour, each hour a week, and the moisture gathered on his brow, when at last the tension was broken.

“Sisters, I smell smoke!”

“Thank God,” was the man’s thought, “they are living.”  The suspense fell from him.  He pulled himself together, and was ready for anything.

“Smoke!” The voice reached him in sharp shrill accents that pierced the continual growling of the waters.  “Who is here?”

“Ngonyama!” was the reply uttered by several.

“He is terrible, sisters.  Hear the thunder of his voice.  Let us fly, lest he tear us.”  And the speaker laughed.

“That is not his voice!  He is afraid; he crouches like the panther in the trap, trembling.  His strength has gone from him.”

“I heard a lion was in the plains, and the cows ran together in a cluster, for they were afraid.”

A shrill laughter was the response, but the dull lights remained where they were, and again there was a long spell of silence, as far as the voices were concerned.  Then the lights went out.  The Hunter stooped forward, listening, but he could hear no footfall.  He put the gun down, and grasped the knife in his right hand, for he could use it with better effect in a sudden assault.

“I smell meat!”

The voice came now from another quarter, and then the lights shone out one after another.

“What meat is this, sister?”

“Indhlovu.”

“Wow!  There are fat pickings on the bones of the great one; but he is powerful.  I hear his trumpeting.”

“Haw! it is the voice of the unseen, mother.  Indhlovu has fallen into the pit that was set for him.  His power has gone.”

Again the voices ceased, again the strange lights were dimmed; but the Hunter was ready, for he knew now they were quartering the cave in search of him.  He had no fear, only a feeling of intense disgust, coupled with a determination to scare the lives out of these ghouls, if they ventured on an attack.  By-and-by he beard faint rustlings, and then breathings; but it was impossible to see, and he sat perfectly still.  Then the voices broke out again at another point.

“He is here, my sisters.”

“Wow!  We are hungry; let us eat.  We are thirsty; let us drink.”

“Sisters, terrible is the power in the arm of Indhlovu.  He strikes, and lo! as a falling tree sweeps a passage through the forest, so would he sweep us away.  Let him weaken; let hunger fasten on his vitals, and fear trouble his brain.”