"Quite so," assented the professor, with a nod; "and, in my opinion, your act would have been a meritorious one. Well, we were hours too late to be of any use to the poor fellow; but it may be that we shall still be in time to punish his murderer and the murderer of those fourteen unhappy white people who died to gratify the ferocious instincts of a savage despot. Let us be going. Come," he added, laying his hand upon Lobelalatutu's naked shoulder, "we shall need you while doing the work that lies before us. After we have finished you can send out men to do what is necessary here." And, with a very grim expression of face, he turned and led the way to the _Flying Fish_. Ten minutes later the ship came gently to earth in the Great Place before M'Bongwele's palace. The village appeared at first sight to be deserted, for not a soul was to be seen in any direction; but the low wail of an infant, suddenly breaking in upon the silence, and issuing from one of the huts, betrayed the fact that at least one small atom of humanity still lingered about the place; and where so small a baby was, the mother would probably be not far off. The five white men--each with his rifle in his hand, as a safeguard against possible accident--stared about them in perplexity. "What has happened, Lobelalatutu; what has become of your people?" demanded the professor. "They are hiding in their huts," answered the chief. "They remember what happened when the Four Spirits last visited us, and they are afraid!" "So!" ejaculated the professor. "Well, call to them, Lobelalatutu, and bid them come forth; we have somewhat to say to them." The chief advanced to the gangway, where he could be clearly seen, and in a loud voice called upon every man to come forth into the open to listen to what the Four Spirits of the Winds had to say to them. And, in reply, first one, then another came creeping reluctantly out of the huts, until at length the Great Place was full of people, all standing with their eyes fixed upon the figures of the four well-remembered "spirits," and the fifth who now stood beside them. A low hum of subdued conversation arose from the densely massed crowd, for a minute or two, but it presently subsided; and all waited breathlessly for the communication to which they had been summoned to listen. Von Schalckenberg permitted the silence to last long enough to become almost oppressive; then he advanced to the gangway and, waving his hand, demanded-- "Children of the Makolo, how many of your number are absent?" For a full minute dead silence followed upon this question; then a man, whose dress and weapons proclaimed him a chief, strode forward and replied-- "We are all present, O most potent Spirit, save fifty of the king's guards, who went forth this morning to execute the king's sentence upon Siswani." "Say you so?" retorted the professor. "Where, then, is M'Bongwele? How is it that I do not see him?"