All the soil here, where it was not solid rock, had been swept with branches. There was the pattern in the dust, even if stray leaves and twigs scattered about had not gone towards showing that, beyond a doubt. The object was manifest--to efface all traces of a struggle. Heavens! my brain seemed to be turning to mud with the drear despair of each fresh discovery. The witch doctor's promise to show the old man the mystery of the waterhole came back to my mind. I put together the words of _sibongo_ to the snake I had heard him chanting. Ukozi had been preparing a way towards a sacrifice to his demon. He had accustomed the great python to seizing its victim as he brought it--and he had always brought it, so small, so insufficient, in the shape of the kid we had seen him give it, as to excite the appetite of the monster rather than to gratify it. He had been practising on Major Sewin's curiosity, so that when the time should be ripe he would bring him to the edge of the pool, where all unsuspecting he would be seized by the monster and never be seen or heard of again. And now, and now--this unspeakably horrible and revolting fate, instead of overtaking the old man, had overtaken Aida, my love, the sun and Paradise of my life, instead. She had been substituted for him, as the easier, possibly the more acceptable victim. But, Ukozi! Whatever might happen to me I would capture and revenge myself upon him in a manner which should out-do the vengeance of the most vindictive and cruel of his own countrymen. I would spend days and nights gloating over his agony, and afterwards it should be talked about with fear and shuddering among the whole population of the border--ay, and beyond it I would do it; how I knew not, but, I would do it. All hell was seething in my brain just then--all hell, as I thought of my love, in her daintiness and grace; the very embodiment of a refinement and an elevating influence that was almost--no, entirely--divine, sacrificed horribly to the revolting superstitions of these savages, whom I had hitherto regarded as equalling in manly virtues those who could boast of centuries of so-called civilisation at their backs. And yet--revenge--could it bring back to me my love--my sweet lost love? CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN. THE DIVE OF THE WATER RAT. We stood there--we four--gazing into each other's livid faces. Then the Major broke down. Sinking to the ground he covered his face with his hands and sobbed. I broke fiercely away. I could not stand for a moment doing nothing, so I set to work to go right round the pool and see if I could find any further trace. But the search was a vain one. "The next thing is, what are we going to do?" said Falkner when we had rejoined them. "We don't propose to spend the rest of the day staring at each other like stuck pigs, I take it?" "We ought to drag the hole," I said, "but we haven't got the necessary appliances, nor even a draw net. Can any of you think of some expedient?"