The latter were all dead, and of the former but one remained--the man with the bandaged head--and he was on the outskirts of the crowd, struggling, with staring eyeballs, to free himself from the grasp of two of the prisoners; and at length he tore himself away, leaving his tattered cloth in the hands of his assailants, and rushed off towards the entrance. But I was after him in an instant, and pursued him down the length of the gallery, slowly gaining on him. Near the foot of a rude ladder he paused and looked over his shoulder, and when he saw me, he uttered a loud shriek and turned to fly up the ladder; but, before he could escape, I struck him so fairly on the back of the neck that his half-severed head fell forward on to his breast as he dropped. I climbed the ladder and groped along the tunnel-like gallery at the top for some distance, but presently reflecting that the place was quite strange to me and that, having no light, I might fall into some shaft or well, or might walk right into the arms of my enemies, I turned back and felt my way cautiously towards the cavern. The flame was not yet extinct when I got back and let myself down the ladder, though the glow was growing much fainter, and by its light I could see that the slaughter was nearly at an end, for two men only remained standing. One of these was the Moshi, who strode about hither and thither shouting, swinging his hammer, and battering at every prostrate body that he trod upon. The other was one of the slaves who had possessed himself of a long knife and was now hovering round with a stealthy ferocity that was very horrible to look at. At the same moment the two men paused to listen, and each catching the sound of the other’s breathing, they rushed at one another, and while the one made a vicious thrust with his knife, the other aimed a blow with his hammer. The knife entered the Moshi’s arm above the elbow, but the next instant the hammer crashed against his assailant’s temple, felling him to the ground. The Moshi burst into a wild shout, and leaped about among the bodies flourishing his hammer; but presently he stopped and listened, and, as I remained stock-still and hardly breathing, the place, which but a minute ago rang with such a furious din, was as silent as the grave. Then a curious reaction set in in the mind of this fierce barbarian. The frenzy of bloodthirsty rage had time to cool, and the strange stillness evidently struck on him with a chill of fear, for he began to call out names--no doubt those of the slaves whose corpses lay around--and questions in the Ochwi language.