Karenga, an African Sketch.

Te Aroha News, Volume VII, Issue 378, 19 June 1889, Page 3

Karenga, an African Sketch.

D was early morning in the tropics, not' quite 6, and consequently the sun was not yet risen on the earth. The Mundeli had, some timo before, tumbled himself yawning out of his mosquito-disturbed hammock. The stillness outside was gradually breaking into the stir of an awakening encampment. The garrison were lighting mien* nres, cooking their breakfasts and grumbling in a feeble kind of way attbe chill morning; air and the order of things in general. Suddonly above those accustomed, sounds pierced a shrill whistle from beyond the outer boma, which caused the chief to leap from his feet, oversetting his unlucky servitor head over heels in so doing. " It's the steamer ! Run, run, you idiot, and sec if they've got any mail 3 on board !" And having indued socks and shoes in a twinkling, he followed tho Uledi out of doors. The house he left was a rough log hut thatched with palm leaves, and surmounted by a flag-staff whence waved the dark blue banner with the golden star. Lukebu was one of the smallest and newest stations of the Elat Independent dv Cowjo, and all of it ab present visible, beside the house above mentioned, was a row of huts tor the garrison (consisting mostly of Cold Coast negroes, from Accra), a couple of store-tents and an unfinished stiucbure destined eventually to take their place, tho whole surrounded by a strong boma of stakes and thorny bushes, with a gate leading to the river. Outside this was the landing: place for steamers, where the chiet of the station intended constructing a jetty ; but the only approach as yet to a realization of this idea was the levelling of a portion of the steep bank of red clay. w The chief, whose name in private life was Raymond Oliphant, hurried across the enclosure, a tall, boyish-looking figure in white flannels and pith-helmet, and, in the gateway, nearly fell into tiie arms of thereturning Uledi. " Him no brink mail, sir ; him only Gazelle come back from Falls, sir. " '•'Bother you !" grumbled Oliphant, suppressing a strong desire to punch Uledi's head, and slackened his speed at once, looking at the poor little Gazelle, as she lay panting and puffing beside the prospective jetty, with a considerable abatement of interest, not to say disgust. " Bonyour,monclier !" shouted her captain, a burley Belgian, known in private life as "Jumbo," looking out from under the awning, and mopping his red countenance with a vast red • handkerchief. "En viola une belle !" " What's wrong?" nsked Oliphant, shortly. He was x-ather inclined to visit his disappointment about the mail on the head of poor Captain Duverrier. " Arabs, mon ami. Slave raiders from Nyangwe, some 200 strong — been firing at us' from both banks ; no one hurt, happily. Pretty goings on up river. Villages burnt to the ground ; there'll be scarcely a living soul left betM'een Falls and the Aruwimi. Had to steam all night to get away from them. We're out of wood ; I suppose you have some ?" "Certainly !'" Oliphant turned to give the necessary order?. " And we've no time to lose, so you'd better come on board as quick as you can." "What for?" asked the chief, with provoking coolness. " What for ? Why, man alive, I suppose you don't mean to stay here ?" " I've no orders to leave the station." The Captain shrugged his extensive shoulders. "As you please, my friend. If you like to wait three months or so, till you hear from Boma, I daresay Hassan Ben Ali. or whatever the gentleman'o name is, will have the politeness to wait likewise." " It's not likely they'd attack the station, and if they did, why, I'd back these fellows to hold it against them for a month. \\ hat sort of fighting can they do with those miserable duck-guns of thoirs, loaded with brass slugs ?" The Captain gave another slow Flemish shrug, as who should say, " He that will to Cupar, maun to Cupar,"' and repeated slowly, "As you will; it's no afiair of mine ;" and half an hour later, Oliphanb was watching the Gazelle as she steamed away down the river, in no deep depression of spirit. He was twenty-three, and new to the country ; fighting, to his mind, assumed tho aspect of "a jolly good lark," and if there was one man he would have pitched into with greater pleasure than another, that man was an Arab slavedriver. So, forgetting all about the mails, he whistled softly to himself, as he swung back slowly across the Place, while Uledi followed behind, with a lugubrious countenance, casting glances of indignant contempt ab the garrison, who were congregated, loudly chattering, under the shade of the great baobab in the centre. But he did not speak till they had reached the hut and Oliphant had ordered him w get breakfast, when he stood meditatively still in the doorway, and then remarked : "Bwana, him Accra man sabby Francess." u Well, you ass, and what of that ?" Uledi did not reply in words, but spread the palms of his hands outward, shrugged his shoulders, turned his head backward till he seemed in danger of breaking his [ neck, and finally showed all his teeth in a portentous £rin void of the slightest semblance of mirth. And having thus expressed his sense of the worthlessness of the Accra men in general, he turned away and began to make the tea. But when the Mundeli went out after breakfast to drill those Accras, they looked so smart and soldierly in their neat white uniforms, and showed themselves so quick and handy in learning the use of their newly acquired rifles, that his heart was filled with pride and pleasure, and utterly despised the warnings of Uledi, who was probably jealous. He could surely depend on these fellows in any emergency. After drill there was the erection of tho new store to be superintended (and a vast deal of superintendence those Ba-yanzi did require) ; and so the busy day wore on till noon, and the chief retired to his hut to sleep the siesta of the just. He was rudely awakened, however, before it. ,was half over. , ?< , . "Bwana, there's a man come from the Arabs to say that there's a runaway slave of theirs here, and they want her back.' Oliphant swung his feet out of the hammock with a huge yawn which merged into a groan. "There's no such thing here," said he testily ; and then, in an audible, English aside, "Don't I jolly well wish there were !" ** But, Bwana, there ia, Jusb before the men came they found a woman" hiding in one of the canoes." "By Jingo ! ' ejaculated Oliphant,' hurrying out of the hut, and striding up to the noisy group assembled under the baobab tree. The throng of Accra soldiers and Ba-yanzi' labourers parted asunder, and allowed him a- "full view of the centre of attraction. 1 ' ' • .' She was crouching on tho ground, this

miserable piece ,of contraband goods — a ( sickening spectacle enough. , The gaunt ( frame, covered only by a rag of dirty grassi cloth, showed the poor bones everywhere through the loose, wrinkled skin, gashed j and scarred by the slave-driver's whip and ( the thorny branches of the jungle. Her ] hair, onco elaborately dressed after the < fashion of the Bakutnu, was now a fright- , ful mass of dishevelled wool, matted with j dirt and bits of branches and from under it , glared two great, scared, restless eyes, like ] those of a hunted animal. , And beside her, shouting and gesticulat- j ing 1 , emphasizing his statements on Kar- ( enga's porson by occasional prods with the buttendof the 'courbash' heholdinhishand, was an ugly half-caste Arab in a dirty , dishdnsheli, while some' half dozen of his fol- ' lowers showed their teeth in ferocious ■ grins and snarls. " Stop that, you brute !" was Oliphanfc's salutation, accompanied by a well-delivered j "right-hander" that nearly upset the , Arab's equilibrium. He had just been in • time to see the whip-handle brought down with a sounding thwack on the poor wretch's shoulders. She was too cowed and ] spiritless to cry out much ; she only gave a ! little moan 'and rubbed her skinny knuckles into her eyes. But when she saw her tor- , mentor stagger back several paces, and finally bring up against one of his hench- 1 men, whom he immediately fell to abusing, ( she &at up and became perfectly rigid and ; open-mouthed with astonishment. "Here, UJedi," said the chief, whose Swahili was not sufficient for the angry, , harangue that followed : " ask the follow \ what he wants." The demand was interpreted. | " Tell him we'll do no such thing." The Accra men's countenance fell, and - Khamis looked vicious. \ " Toll him Englishmen don't make slaves, * and they don't allow others to make them, and he shan't have her. Why, we wouldn't treat a dog that way. It's — why, it's a , confounded shamo 1" , j "He says if Btt'ana no send back, Suley- 1 man bin Abed ome' fetch him." . c " Let him. Tell him the white men hay. plenty of guns. There, that's all about it , Tell him if he don't go at once he shall be j kicked out." } Whichmessage being faith fully delivered < by Uledi had the desired effect, and Khamis retired grumbling with his oatellites. , "What; are you fellows all standing, * staring for ? Go about your business ( Here, one of you — get this poor creature something to eat ; she's half-starved. Ulodi, can you make her understand ? Tell } her there's nothing to be frightened of ; , we won't let anyone hurt her." For she still crouched there, trembling and terrified, with' eyes nearly starting out of her ] head. Then he turned on his heel and walked thoughtfully away, presently disappearing j into the store-tent, where he proceeded to measure out, from the last-opened bale, some four yards or so of red and white | striped trade calico. , He had seen a good many nasfcy things < since he first set foot in Africa, but just . now he felt perfectly sick with a mixture of $ pity ana disgust — especially when he re- j membered a horrid, deep festering gash on j the upper arm, either done with a spear when she was first captured or a cut from a { " hippo-hide lash. Bah ! It does not do ] to think of such things in this beastly j climate. " I say, Uledi ! " Take this to her, and j tell her she can put it on if she wauts, and ] see that none of the other beggars grab it. \ And — I say, you can tell her to come here afterward, when she's rested and hud some- i thing to eat ; and she can get that arm of ] her's tied up if she likes." ( Which waa done. She did not, as Oliphant had pprhapaieared, " make a scene." She seemed more dazed and bewildered by j the kindness shown her than anything else. ' There was not much to be got out of her. \ She had been dragged from her village — ' three—four — she could not tell how many days' journey off. They had killed many J people there with guns and spears. Yes, she had children— three — and they had ' taken away the boys. She did not know what had become of them. She had the \ baby with her. and they got angry because ■ ib cried, and took it ; a\vay from her and threw it on the ground ; and .when she j screamed and wanted to stay by it they ] beat her — he might see — and dragged her away. ' And Oliphant turned aside his face and said, " Beasts !" and something else which ] the recording angel did not write down ' against him. "Tell her we — I mean, confound it all— if . one of 'em tries to lay a finger on her we'll blow him into little bits." And leaving ' this piece of consolation behind him he ; went to see to the defences which he considered so utterly unnecessary. Post midnight, perhaps apout 2 in the morning, he became conscious that some one was standing over' him, and heard a faint, far-off voice saying something to which he paid no attention, till it gradually dawned on him that the voice was close beside him and addressed to him. " Bvvana Bwana, wake up !"' "Well, what now?" Uledi was almost sobbing, "Oh, sir! sir! Arab coming, and — him Accra man all run away !' Oliphant was on his feet in an instant, six-shooter in hand. They ran out, paying no heed to a trembling, sobbing fierure that crouched beside the door, "crossed the place, saw the river gate standing wide open, and r ached it just in time to see a canoe c owded with black bodies and white uniforms push off from the landing-place. " Stand ! Halte-la ! Stop this instant L he thundered, and the crack of the pisto 1 rang out on the still night air. One or two° suppressed yells were heard, but the flying paddles slackened not for a moment, and the canoe shot across the moonlit surface into the black shadow of the nearest island. "Who's left here? Uledi, help me get out the mountain Krupp ! Here, you felows !' He was rushing toward the gun himself, when Uledi touched his arm and pointed eastward along the river. A huge black mass was seen moving slowly across a broad silvered reach, creeping nearer and nearer. " El Arab !" whispered Uledi. " What are we to do ?" Tha.t only flashed through Oliphant's mmd — he did not say it aloud. His next words were : " Come and bar the gate. Who's left beside yourself ?" "Only Marzouk and Ferajji— and Karenga." " Who's Karenga ?" " The slave woman that ran away. She called me, and told me they were going away in canoes." "Pity she couldn't have done it a little sooner !" "Bwana, they'd have killed you ! What could We do against so many?" " Well; well !" Marzouk and Ferajji had by this, time arrived on the scene, and the t gate, was effectually barricaded. , ' " Now we ought 'jo have the boats ready in case " ' , t ' * t , 1 "Bwana, there are none left: they have taken all!" "All?"' , ( , J i} , It was too true. Evonithe whale-boat' suually kept inside the stockade for safety' was gone. A further inspection revealed

the fact that the store- tent had been broken open and a large part of its contents ab- j stracted. There was no time to be angry, with ! that black shadow still creeping nearer. A ' careful reconnoitering through the loop- ! holes revealed it still holding on its way. ( The gun was got into position beside the ( gate, all the available fire-arms loaded, and, then came the suspense of waiting. The strained earsof thelistening four soon caught the muffled plash of paddles alongside the ! gateway. Then there was a long pause, ■ and then a shuffling and scrambling, ( and the sound of many bare feet on the clay. Oliphant stood, rifle in hand, at one j of the loop-holes, Uledi beside him similarly ' armed. Marzouk, who had some skill in ' gunnery, was attending to the mountain Krupp. "Fire!" said Oliphant, and the riiies ; cracked. There was a howl and' a scatter- ' ing rush outside, which showed that the ] shots had told, and, after a while, answering shots began to find their way through the boma to right and left, which, though 1 praiseworthy in intention, lamentably fell short in effect. When this had gone on for J some little time, something like a shooting ' star came sailing through the air— an arrow wrapped round with blazing oiled palmfibre. It fell dangerously near one of the j hut's ; but before it could catch, or any of ; them could reach it, something dark had i sprung out of the shadow and probably tvoddon it out, for the light disappeared. ' "Who's that?" asked Oliphant, a little ' startled. He had looked around just in . time to see this. J 11 Him K».renga Bwana," replied the sententious Uledi. "Karenga? Oh, I'd forgotten her! ' Poor old girl ! Well, we must stop that game of theirs. Marzouk, you might fire ! now." ' Bang went the gun, with what result could not be known, as in the chorus of 1 yells and howls which followed fright could i not well be distinguished from injury. It was probable that the artillery was too near 1 them to do any harm, buttherewas a general scamper down the bank and shrill cries of ( 41 Oh, my mother !my mother !" " Oh, my ( friends and relations !" mingled with asse- ? verations that the place was garrisoned by , Sheitans, whom no man could face and live. J "They've had enough," laughed Oliphanb "] gleefully, forgetting for the moment the desertion of his men and, all prospective !j troubles and difficulties in the flush of vie- J tory. Uledi looked grave, in spite of the sounds which assured him that the enemy : were again on the river and paddling away 1 " Him go, 'Bwana, but him come back." " Well, he can have a second edition if he j likes." Uledi scarcely understood this, but he j guessed Oliphant's meaning from his look J and tone, and proceeded darkly to hint * that he was well acquainted with the ' character of Suleyman bin Abed, who, as x he phrased it, was" nob afraid of anything, and had a heart no bigger than the end ' of Bwana's little finger. Beside, he had at least two hundred men armed with | guns, and when he found out— as he was ' sure to do before long, that they were only four !— * 1 " We'll beat them off before that. There . are about twenty charges of powder for the Krupp left in that keg, and there's more in the store. And the cartridges " " Bwana," said Uledi in a low voice, pointing to the kegs lying glistening in the moonlight on the top of a packing-case, those are all we could find." Oliphant whistled. Just then AJarzouk, rose from his knees, in which posture he had been carefully examining the gun, and came toward him with clasped hands and a dejected countenance. " Bwana !" he said, appealingly. Marzouk was a good fellow and true, but he had little English, and of that little trouble of mind had bereft him. "Bwana, the gun is dead !" "What do you mean ?" asked Oliphant, somewhat sharply, in Swahili. Poor Marzouk fairly dropped on his knees. " Bwana, I didn't do it! I don't know how it happened. Come and look at it ! It will break if it is fired again !" Oliphant went over and investigated matters as well as he could by the moonlight and the help of a match or two. There was an undoubted crack, and it was evident that another shot, or at most two, would fulfil Marzouk's prophecy. He remained looking at it in gloomy silence, while Marzouk stood at " attention " before him, with the air of a man who is going to be hanged and knows that he deßerves it. He looked so miserable that Oliphant was quite touched, and roused himself up to administer consolation. " There, there, nobody blames you for it. It's a flawi n the iron — it wasn't your fault. Welt, it can't be helped. If Suleyman comes again, we'll fire her off and send the pieces flying at him. And what's to be done now ?" They were unanimous in declaring that Bwana must go and gee some sleep while he could ; they would watch and call him when there was need. He looked from one to another of their honest black faces, and an unwonted seriousness came over him. He had always been good to his men, very good, as hot-tempered young Englishmen go ; and yet now he felt a vague remorseful suspicion that he had never rated these brave hearts at their true value. " We may beat them off before the cartridges are done," he said. "If not, there's nothing for.it but to take to the bush. We might reach Itembo, get a canoe there, and so go dpwn to Bangala. But we can't leave the powder and guns for Suleyman. Put the big powder keg and all the petroleum casks ready in the store tent, and anything else that will burn. And get together all the rifles you can find — all except your own —we must dig a hole and bury them." They were moving away to execute his orders when he stopped them. I doubt whether he was animated by that sense of the fitness of things which prompted the harangues ascribed to all ancient and modern commanders just before a battle ; but he felt yaguely that he wanted to say something more. "I say, you know," he began, "if you like to get away into the bush while there's time, I don't want to ask you. to stay here with me." Not a word was said by either of the three. Marzouk and Uledi stared him in the iace, the one sad, the' other indignant. Ferajji stood with folded arms gazing on the ground. " Well !" It was Uledi who answered, with flashing eyes : " Bwana, you tink we all same Accra man !" - , , " No, I don't." And he soothed their wounded feelings by shaking ,hands with them all round, "which rather surprised and, as evidently pleased ,them, and rio more was said on tho subject. , , , , Suleyman's men came' back reinforced before the night was out. The gun burst, as Marzouk had predicted! and hurled a great mass of 'metal' over the gateway, but without hurting anyone inside the boma. The flint-lock muskets kept up an incessant crackling; and thick and fast came the fiery arrows^whizzirig'throu'gh the air. Already three or four black figures had appeared above the gate, and fallen back with a yell at the crack of Oliphant's rifle ; and now,

when they seemed to have fallen back a little, and. there was a lull in "the' firing, the chief turned and laid his hand on Uledi's shoulder, asking him in a whißper -whethor he had any cartridges. Uleili shook his head sadly. The others, however, had about a dozen left between them. " Don't use them now,' said Oliphant : " it's no good. They are coming up to. fire the gate and the boma. I saw them bringing' burning brauds. Ferajji, you qo 1 quietly and undo the little back gateway. Marzouk and Uledi, take your guns and come with me." They went to his own hut, where a few provisions had been roughly made up into bundles in ,the interval of wailing for the attack. Marzouk and Uledi each seized a load, and were going to take a third between them to deliver it to Ferajji, when a shadow darkened the moonlit doorway. It was Karenga. She said something in a soft low voice to the naen. " What is it?" asked Oliphanb. " Him say him come carry pack, all same pagazi." "Let her, then. Poor soul, we can't leave her here. Wow, you fellows, go on, hima hima ; you understand ? I am going ' to tire the powder magazine. If I can, I'll t follow you and catch you up before you pet far. If 1 don't come, you must get on as fast you can to the river and get a canoe. Do you understand ?" They did understand, but they assumed a stolid expression and did not move. Marzouk threw down his burden. " Oh, Bwana, you must not ! Let me do it. What should, we do if you were killed ? We are all dead men without you !' " Don't be a fool. There's no time to lose. Go on and do as I say !" But Marzouk was down on the ground clasping Oliphant's knees, like the ioolish black heathen ho was. " Oh, JBwana,.Bwana,! let me do it ! You were not angry with me when I killed the gun, do not be angry now !" "There, there, stop talking, and don't make an ass of yourself ! You may if you like. You know how to light the fuse ; take care how you do it, and come after us as quickly as you can. Now, Uledi, take my gun, will you ?" And in three minutes more they had rejoined Ferajji outside the postern gate and were stealing silently in Indian file along the narrow tortuous path that led through the jungle to the nearest village of the Bakomela. Uledi, who was carrying Oliphant's gun in addition to his load, would, in the natural course of things, have marched next after his leader, but the place had been tacitly usurped by Karenga, who followed him like a dog, watching every movement of his with keen wide eyes. She was a tall and originally a well-made woman, and, though it seemed wonderful that starvation and ill-usage had left her any strength at all, she was, after a good meal and a few hours' rest, stepping along under her load as actively as any ot them. But then, poor thing, she had been trained to carry loads, more or less, all her life. They had not gone very far before a crash like a sharp sudden clap of thunder shook the ground under their feet, though the jungle was too thick for them to see the pillar of flame that rushed up into the sky, to the momentary discomfiture of the Arabs, who were pouring in like salamanders over the battered-down gate and blazing boma. Poor Karenga vshrieked and flung herself down, with her hands over her eyes, to shut out she knew not what fearful sight. Oliphant halted to wait for Marzouk, but there was no sign of him. * 4 Him come another way through bush,' suggested Uledi. They waited a few minutes longer, but he did not appeal 1 , and Oliphant, knowing there was no time to lose, for day was already dawning, reluctantly gave the word to march on, hoping to meet him later. But Marzouk never followed them. He had, indeed, made no mistake about the fuse, and had timed the explosion with scientific precision, but the Arabs were close at his heels by the time he got outside the boma ; and, rather than betray the way by which Bwana was retreating, he turned and faced them, shot down two of them with his remaining cartridges and then fought on with his clubbed rifle till they overpowered him by number?, and he fell. And meanwhile the four who were left toiled on. Don't ask me to describe the day that followed such a dawn. It was the end of the rainy season, and the best parts of the track were knee-deep in black, sticky mud, while in other places there were ttreams to be forded or flooded tracks only to be crossed by springing from root to root of the trees. The villages they reached were mostly deserted for fear of the Arabs, and the provisions they had wifch them were soon exhausted ; but in spifce of hunger, cold and weariness, Oliphant struggled on. They now chiefly depended for their food on Ferajji, the taciturn, who was a good shot ana a cunning hunter, and though he had no ammunition loft, had provided himself with a native spear. With this, and by setting snares for bird*, he contrived to get meat enough to keep them alive. " It might have boon the sixth day of their wanderings in those awful woods — Olipbant say& he had quite lost count of the time. He was dragging himself along in stolid endurance, feeling that on the whole, it would be much pleasanter to lie down and die on bho spot, only it wouldn't do. Why it wouldn't do he did not in the least at that moment know or care ; he was only conscious, in a dull, dogged sort of way, that he must go on. Close behind him as usual, was Karenga, and behind her marched Uledi, carrying his own gun and Oliphant's. The path was, if anything, more difficult than ever, and Uledi gradually lagged a little behind. And just here it was that suddenly tteh c deep boom of the war-drums and clash of the war-bells was heard at a distance, and nearer by an answering yell of ya-ha-lia-ha-ha, and out of the ghastly blackness of that deadly forest burst half-a-dozen naked warriors, with leopard-skin shields and broadbladed spears. Then, in one swift flash of freakish memory, Oliphant seemed to be back in " Meads " at Winchester, himself a little chap, cheering away with all his might because they had won the match* against Eton . . . and the white rose-bush growing over the porch of the Kectory at home " . . and various other things, all jumbled as in a kaleidoscope . . • and all in a second or two, while he was getting his back against a tree, and snatching the six-shooter from his belt. " Uledi '. Uledi ! Nju hapa ! Come up, quick !" He fired ; the foremost savage dropped with a yell. He aimed a second time, and pressed the trigger with all his: might ; the weapon would not go off. He tried again, it was no use ; there was another man not a dozen feet away, with a light assegai poised to throw. OHphant, in a sort cf desperation, lifted the revolver in 'both hands and dashed it in his face. He dropped the assegai and ran back. Oliphant sprang forward, picked it up, and with . a desperate energy of fighting blood once up, attacked a third enemy with it. At this same time he saw on his left % fourth bearing down on him with a huge broadbladed spear that would have sliced a man in two at a bingle blow. He but in his preoccupation with the adversary before him, his mind, as it were, failed to grasp this i other danger. In another^ moment it would

have been too late; but just in that one undecided. moment a dark jigure sprang., between them, sprang like a wildcat at the. tall warrior's throat, seized him round the \ neck, and hung clinging there till he reeled under her weight", dropping his spear, gasping, choking, trying in vain to shake her off, for all the life and strength of her body seemed to have gone into, those bony bands. Oliphant, hard pressed by the three yet unwounded ones, makes a drive with his spear, it breaks off short in his hand after transfixing one. Well, as well first as last) ! " Bwana ! Bwana ! Here is your gun '." and Uledi thrusts it loaded into his hands, and lays about him with the butt end of his own.. One or two shots scatter those still able to fly. Three are left on the ground, two dead —the other ? Uledi coolly delivers a smashing blow on his head and frees Karenga's arms from his grasp. She tries to rise, but sinks down again, all huddled up on the oozy ground. , " Poor soul 1" says Oliphant softly to himself ; ** Ido believe 'she saved my life !" He goes and bends over her and speaks kindly to her — not that he thinks she can understand. He has a mother and sisters at home, this young Viking, and can reverenco the womanhood in this poor caricature ot humanity, as some might think her, ugly and debased as she is, Therefore' he has always been gentle to her — doubly so now that she has saved him at the cost of her own life, too ; for as soon as he looks he sees that the spear-stroke that met that mad spring of hers has done its work. She lifted her glaring eyes to him. "I am dead. Tell the white chief he is good, he has a heart." "Poor thing, poor thing ?" She saw he was speaking words of pity, and she caughb his hands in her feeble grasp, add laid her cheek against it. " What does she say, Uledi V •' She wants to know if she will go to the white man's land now ?" "Tell her, Uledi," he said, choking down something like a sob, " fcell her she is going to God, and He loves us all, loves white and black alike, and no one will be cruel to her any more." I do not know whether Uledi interpreted faithfully, or whether she understood. Her eyes still rested on his face, with a wistful, loving look like that of a dog ; she smiled a little, and stretched out her feet and was gone. Oliphant touk up the poor body— he could not bear to leave it there in the track— and laid it, with Uledi's help, in a deep cavity among the roots of a tree — that, was better than no grave at all. And then they looked at each other with sad, hopeless eyes, and went on together through that horrible wilderness. For the reader's satisfaction I may add that Oliphant reached Bangala in safety, along with Uledi and Ferajji, and that all three are at the present day alive and well, and distinguishing themselves in the service of the Mat Independant die Congo. — A. Werner, in Longman's Magazine.