The conversation between Jeekie and the natives proceeded, their heads were close together; it grew animated.  They seemed to be coming to some decision.  Presently one of them ran and cut the lashings of the man who had been bound to the tree, and he staggered towards them and joined in the talk, pointing to his wounds.  Then the two fellows who had been engaged in flogging him, accompanied by eight companions of the same type—­they appeared to be soldiers, for they carried guns—­swaggered towards the group who were being addressed by Jeekie, of whom Alan counted twenty-three.  As they approached Jeekie made some suggestion which, after one hesitating moment, the others seemed to accept, for they nodded their heads and separated out a little.

Jeekie stepped forward and asked a question of the guards, to which they replied with a derisive shout.  Then without a word of warning he lifted Aylward’s express rifle which he carried, and fired first one barrel and then the other, shooting the two leading soldiers dead.  Their companions halted amazed, but before they could lift their guns, Jeekie and those with him rushed at them and began stabbing them with spears and striking them with sticks.  In three minutes it was over without another shot being fired.  Most of them were despatched, and the others, throwing down their guns, had fled wounded into the forest.

Now, shouting in jubilation, some of the men began to drag away the dead bodies, while others collected the rifles and the remainder, headed by Jeekie, advanced towards Alan and Aylward, waving their red spears.  Alan stood staring, for he did not in the least understand the meaning of what had happened, but Aylward, who had turned very pale, addressed Jeekie, saying: 

“I suppose that you have come to murder me also, you black villain.”

“No, no, my Lord,” answered Jeekie politely, “not at present.  Also that wrong word, execute, not murder, just what you do to some of these poor devils,” and he pointed to the mob of porters.  “Besides, mustn’t kill holy white man, poor black chap don’t matter, plenty more where he come from.  Think we all go see Miss Barbara now.  You come too, my Lord Bart., but p’raps best tie your hands behind you first; if you want scratch head, I do it for you.  That only fair, you scratch mine this morning.”

Then at a word from Jeekie some of the natives sprang on Aylward and tied his hands behind his back.

“Is Miss Barbara alive?” said Alan to Jeekie in an agonized whisper, at the same time nodding towards the grave that was so ominously short.

“Hope so, think so, these cards say so, but God He know alone,” answered Jeekie.  “Go and look, that best way to find out.”

So they advanced into the camp through a narrow gateway made of a V-shaped piece of wood, to where the two tents were placed in its inner division.  Of these tents, the first, was open, whereas the second was closed.  As the open tent was obviously empty, they went to the second, whereof Jeekie began to loosen the lashings of the flap.  It was a long business, for they seemed to have been carefully knotted inside; indeed at last, growing impatient, Jeekie cut the cord, using the curved knife with which the Mungana had tried to kill Alan.