The Kaffir, who had pursued the ape, had halted, and was staring fixedly in the direction of the wood. "There's the solution of the mystery," returned the missionary, calmly, continuing his work as though nothing had happened, while one by one in Indian file, some fifty men, fully armed, and evidently belonging to a tribe not yet met with, stepped out of the wood and advanced towards the little camp. Halting about thirty paces distant, the party squatted on the ground, holding their long assegais in their hands, and having their shields in readiness apparently for attack. "Do you observe," remarked the missionary, raising his head from his work, "those men have none of the length of limb of the Zulu race, but are, on the contrary, small of stature and villainously ugly? There is the chief advancing towards us." "Well, he is certainly a curious object," replied the soldier, leaning on his rifle. "I never saw a man with so low a forehead, so prominent cheek-bones, or so flat a nose. For all covering a piece of hide round the loins, and what on earth has he on his face? They look like button mushrooms growing out of the flesh. Pah! it's enough to make one sick." Low of stature, very black, and having the peculiarities named by Hughes, the chief's natural ugliness was greatly heightened by a row of gold buttons, let into the flesh, from the point of the nose to the roots of the hair. With a firm step and upright bearing, this hideous object advanced into the camp. Masheesh joined the group, and while the dusky braves, with their assegais and shields, remained calmly looking on, a long parley took place before the tent. The chief of this man's tribe had his kraal near Manica, and was a dependant of the great Machin himself, a rival of Mozelkatse. To him the Arab, Achmet Ben Arif, had sent a runner, telling of what bad passed at Sofala, and also of the travellers' objects in thus seeking the interior. The chief invited the whole party to his kraal at Busi, and under the circumstances, with fifty lance-heads glittering in the sunshine, to enforce the proffered hospitality, it was difficult to say No. "The direction, too," said the missionary, "is exactly that we wish to take; and if even we could help ourselves, which we can't, it will be better to go." "Then we must leave the mysterious slabs on the top of yonder mountain, with their tales untold." "Our first object," replied the missionary, "is to discover the ruined cities of Zulu land; we can return any time to Gorongoza; and who so likely to aid our search as this chief of Manica." "If he is anything like his envoy, I don't care much to see him, for a more villainous lot I never met."