Whitson then told Langley to follow him, and the two walked down the foot-path toward where they had left Ghamba.  Him they found lying motionless in the position in which he had been left about an hour previously.  They removed the sack and the gag and untied his feet, first taking the precaution to fasten the belt by one end to his bound hands, Whitson holding the other.  They then signed to him to proceed toward the cave, and this he silently did, without making any resistance.  He looked calmly at the three dead bodies, but said not a word.  Langley held him, while Whitson again tied his feet together with the belt, and then they placed him with his back against a rock, facing the fire, which was still blazing brightly.  His lips were drawn back in a ghastly, mirthless, grin, and the tusks were revealed from point to insertion.

Langley questioned Ghamba, but he would not speak.  After several attempts to force him to answer had been vainly made, Whitson said: 

“Now tell him that if he speaks and tells the whole truth he will only be shot, but if he does not speak he will be burned alive.”

This was interpreted, but the threat had no apparent effect.  So Whitson seized Ghamba and dragged him to the fire, where he flung him down on the very edge of the glowing embers.

“Now,” said Whitson, holding him down with his foot, so that he got severely scorched, “for the last time, will you speak?”

“Take me away from the fire, and I will speak,” said Ghamba, in English.

So they lifted him, and set him again with his back to the rock.

“Now,” said Whitson, “go ahead, and no nonsense!”

“If I tell the whole truth,” said Ghamba, still speaking English, and with a fair accent, “will you swear not to burn me, but to shoot me, so that I shall die at once?”

“I will,” said Whitson.

“You too must swear,” said Ghamba, looking at Langley.

“Yes, I swear.”

“Very well,” said Ghamba, “I will tell you everything, but you must both remember what you have sworn to.”

“Yes, all right,” said Whitson.  Ghamba then looked at Langley, who repeated the words.

“I will tell you,” said Ghamba, “all I can remember, and you can ask questions, which I shall answer truly.  You have heard of Umdava, who used to eat men in Natal long ago, after the wars of Tshaka—­well, he was my uncle.  After Umdava had been killed and his people scattered, my father, with a few followers, came to live among these mountains.  But we found that after having eaten human flesh we could enjoy no other food, so we caught people and ate them.  These two men lying dead are my sons, and that woman is my daughter.  My four wives were here to-night.  They are very old women.  Have you not seen them?” he asked, looking at Whitson.

“They are in there; I shot them,” said Whitson, pointing to the cave.

“I had other children,” continued Ghamba, quite unmoved, “but we ate them when food was scarce.”