“This:  that if ever you come to be king of this people you will do away with the smelling out of wizards such as we saw last night; and that the killing of men without trial shall no longer take place in the land.”

Ignosi thought for a moment after I had translated this request, and then answered—­

“The ways of black people are not as the ways of white men, Incubu, nor do we value life so highly.  Yet I will promise.  If it be in my power to hold them back, the witch-finders shall hunt no more, nor shall any man die the death without trial or judgment.”

“That’s a bargain, then,” said Sir Henry; “and now let us get a little rest.”

Thoroughly wearied out, we were soon sound asleep, and slept till Ignosi woke us about eleven o’clock.  Then we rose, washed, and ate a hearty breakfast.  After that we went outside the hut and walked about, amusing ourselves with examining the structure of the Kukuana huts and observing the customs of the women.

“I hope that eclipse will come off,” said Sir Henry presently.

“If it does not it will soon be all up with us,” I answered mournfully; “for so sure as we are living men some of those chiefs will tell the whole story to the king, and then there will be another sort of eclipse, and one that we shall certainly not like.”

Returning to the hut we ate some dinner, and passed the rest of the day in receiving visits of ceremony and curiosity.  At length the sun set, and we enjoyed a couple of hours of such quiet as our melancholy forebodings would allow to us.  Finally, about half-past eight, a messenger came from Twala to bid us to the great annual “dance of girls” which was about to be celebrated.

Hastily we put on the chain shirts that the king had sent us, and taking our rifles and ammunition with us, so as to have them handy in case we had to fly, as suggested by Infadoos, we started boldly enough, though with inward fear and trembling.  The great space in front of the king’s kraal bore a very different appearance from that which it had presented on the previous evening.  In place of the grim ranks of serried warriors were company after company of Kukuana girls, not over-dressed, so far as clothing went, but each crowned with a wreath of flowers, and holding a palm leaf in one hand and a white arum lily in the other.  In the centre of the open moonlit space sat Twala the king, with old Gagool at his feet, attended by Infadoos, the boy Scragga, and twelve guards.  There were also present about a score of chiefs, amongst whom I recognised most of our friends of the night before.

Twala greeted us with much apparent cordiality, though I saw him fix his one eye viciously on Umbopa.