“Oh! Baas,” said Hans, who could understand English well enough although he seldom spoke it, “why are you always bothering me with such _praatjes_?”—(that is, chatter). “Whatever you do I will do, and I don’t care what you do, except for your own sake, Baas. If I am going to die, let me die; it doesn’t at all matter how, since I must go soon and make report to your reverend father, the Predikant. And now, Baas, I have been awake all night, for I heard those camels coming a long while before the two spook men appeared, and as I have never heard camels before, could not make out what they were, for they don’t walk like giraffes. So I am going to sleep, Baas, there in the sun. When you have settled things, you can wake me up and give me your orders,” and he suited the action to the word, for when I glanced at him again he was, or appeared to be, slumbering, just like a dog at its master’s feet. I looked at Ragnall in interrogation. “I am going on,” he said briefly. “Despite the denial of these men of any complicity in your wife’s fate?” I asked. “If their words are true, what have you to gain by this journey, Ragnall?” “An interesting experience while it lasts; that is all. Like Hans there, if what they say _is_ true, my future is a matter of complete indifference to me. But I do not believe a word of what they say. Something tells me that they know a great deal which they do not choose to repeat—about my wife I mean. That is why they are so anxious that I should not accompany you.” “You must judge for yourself,” I answered doubtfully, “and I hope to Heaven that you are judging right. Now, Savage, what have you decided? Remember before you reply that these uncanny fellows declare that if we four go, two of us will never return. It seems impossible that they can read the future, still, without doubt, they _are_ most uncanny.” “Sir,” said Savage, “I will take my chance. Before I left England his lordship made a provision for my old mother and my widowed sister and her children, and I have none other dependent upon me. Moreover, I won’t return alone with those Mazitu to become a barbarian, for how could I find my way back to the coast without anyone to guide me? So I’ll go on and leave the rest to God.” “Which is just what we have all got to do,” I remarked. “Well, as that is settled, let us send for Babemba and tell him.” This we did accordingly. The old fellow received the news with more resignation than I had anticipated. Fixing his one eye upon me, he said: