"Where is the wonder, man, that you should drive my ship upon a sandbank! And who are these?" Bones pointed to six canoes, filled with men, approaching the _Zaire_. The man did not answer, but, taking the wood from Bones's hand, pulled a knife from his belt and whittled a shaving. "Here, lord," he said, "is my fine magic. With this wood I can do many miracles, such as making sick men strong and the strong weak." Bones heard the canoes bump against the side of the boat, but his mind was occupied with curiosity. "Thus do I make my magic, Tibbetti," droned Wafa. He held the knife by the haft in the right hand, and the chip of wood in his left. The point of the knife was towards the white man's heart. "Bones!" screamed the girl. Bones jumped aside and struck out as the man lunged. His nobbly fist caught Wafa under the jaw, and the man stumbled and fell. At the same instant there was a yell from the lower deck, the sound of scuffling, and a shot. Bones jumped for the girl, thrust her into the cabin, sliding the steel door behind him. His two revolvers hung at the head of his bunk, and he slipped them out, gave a glance to see whether they were loaded, and pushed the door. "Shut the door after me," he breathed. The bridge deck was deserted, and Bones raced down the ladder to the iron deck. Two Houssas and half a dozen natives lay dead or dying. The remainder of the soldiers were fighting desperately with whatever weapons they found to their hands--for, with characteristic carefulness, they had laid their rifles away in oil, lest the river air rust them--and, save for the sentry, who used a rifle common to all, they were unarmed. "O dogs!" roared Bones. The invaders turned and faced the long-barrelled Webleys, and the fight was finished. Later, Wafa came to the bridge with bright steel manacles on his wrist. His companions in the mad adventure sat on the iron deck below, roped leg to leg, and listened with philosophic calm as the Houssa sentry drew lurid pictures of the fate which awaited them. Bones sat in his deep chair, and the prisoner squatted before him. "You shall tell my lord Sandi why you did this wickedness," he said, "also, Wafa, what evil thought was in your mind." "Lord," said Wafa cheerfully, "what good comes to me if I speak?" Something about the man's demeanour struck Bones as strange, and he rose and went close to him. "I see," he said, with a tightened lip. "The palaver is finished." They led the man away, and the girl, who had been a spectator, asked anxiously: "What is wrong, Bones?" But the young man shook his head. "The breaking of all that Sanders has worked for," he said bitterly, and the very absence of levity in one whose heart was so young and gay struck a colder chill to the girl's heart than the yells of the warring N'gombi. For Sanders had a big place in Patricia Hamilton's life. In an hour the _Zaire_ was refloated, and was going at full speed down stream. * * * * *