“Have you always lived, all these years, on human flesh?” asked Whitson.

“No, not always; but whenever we could obtain it we did so.  There is other food in these mountains—­honey, ants’ eggs, roots, and fruit; besides game, which is, however, not very easy to catch.  But we have often all had to go away and work when times have been bad.  Besides, I have a herd of cattle at a Basuto kraal, and I have been in the habit of taking some of these now and then, and exchanging them for corn, which the women then went to fetch.  But we have always tried to get people to eat, because we could enjoy no other kind of food.  Sometimes we got them easily; and when we were very fortunate we used to dry part of the meat by hanging it up and lighting a fire underneath, with green wood, so as to make plenty of smoke.”

“Have you killed many white people?” asked Whitson.

“Yes, a good number; but not, of course, as many as black.  Lately we have always tried to catch whites, because when you have eaten white flesh for some time, the flesh of a native no longer satisfies you.”

“Why not?”

“The flavour is not so strong.”

“Did you induce the other two policemen to come up by means of the story about Umhlonhlo?”

“Yes, they came up just as you did, and my sons caught them with the thongs.  Umhlonhlo has brought us plenty of food.”

“Were you able to take the cartridges out of their revolvers as you did out of mine?”

“No, I had no opportunity; but it was not necessary, because my sons were so expert at throwing the thongs that they could always catch people over the arms, and thus render them unable to shoot.”

“How did they manage to become so expert?”

“By continued practice.  I used to walk up the path over and over again, and let them throw the thong over me.  Then the woman was always there with the club, so that, if one of the thongs missed, she was ready to strike.  I, also, was usually ready to help, in case of necessity.”

“Why did you think it necessary to take the cartridges out of my revolver?”

“Because I feared you from the first, and were it not that he”—­baring his teeth and glancing at Langley, who shuddered—­“looked so nice, and that we wanted fresh meat so badly, I would not have risked bringing you.  But it would have been all right if I had only let your revolver alone.”

“You say Umhlonhlo has brought you plenty of food; did you ever get any one besides ourselves and the other two policemen to come up here by telling them that story?”

“Yes, two others—­one a man who was searching for gold on the Free State side of the mountains, and the other a trader whom I met at Maseru.  But these each came alone.”

“I see the buckle of a woman’s belt in there.  Whom did that belong to?  You surely never got a white woman up here?”