“Death,” said the circle of indunas, pointing their thumbs downwards, and all the multitude beyond echoed the word “Death.”

“Death,” repeated the head induna, adding, “If you save her, my father, we will slay her with our own hands.  She is a Babyan-woman, a devil-woman; ah, yes, we have heard of such before; let her be slain before she works more evil.”

Then it was that Stella stepped forward and begged for Hendrika’s life in moving terms.  She pleaded the savagery of the woman’s nature, her long service, and the affection that she had always shown towards herself.  She said that I, whose life had been attempted, forgave her, and she, my wife, who had nearly been left a widow before she was made a bride, forgave her; let them forgive her also, let her be sent away, not slain, let not her marriage day be stained with blood.

Now her father listened readily enough, for he had no intention of killing Hendrika—­indeed, he had already promised not to do so.  But the people were in a different humour, they looked upon Hendrika as a devil, and would have torn her to pieces there and then, could they have had their way.  Nor were matters mended by Indaba-zimbi, who had already gained a great reputation for wisdom and magic in the place.  Suddenly the old man rose and made quite an impassioned speech, urging them to kill Hendrika at once or mischief would come of it.

At last matters got very bad, for two of the Indunas came forward to drag her off to execution, and it was not until Stella burst into tears that the sight of her grief, backed by Mr. Carson’s orders and my own remonstrances, carried the day.

All this while Hendrika had been standing quite unmoved.  At last the tumult ceased, and the leading induna called to her to go, promising that if ever she showed her face near the kraals again she should be stabbed like a jackal.  Then Hendrika spoke to Stella in a low voice and in English—­

“Better let them kill me, mistress, better for all.  Without you to love I shall go mad and become a babyan again.”

Stella did not answer, and they loosed her.  She stepped forward and looked at the natives with a stare of hate.  Then she turned and walked past me, and as she passed whispered a native phrase in my ear, that, being literally translated, means, “Till another moon,” but which has the same significance as the French “au revoir.”

It frightened me, for I knew she meant that she had not done with me, and saw that our mercy was misplaced.  Seeing my face change she ran swiftly from me, and as she passed Indaba-zimbi, with a sudden movement snatched her great knife from his hand.  When she had gone about twenty paces she halted, looked long and earnestly on Stella, gave one loud cry of anguish, and fled.  A few minutes later we saw her far away, bounding up the face of an almost perpendicular cliff—­a cliff that nobody except herself and the baboons could possibly climb.