This was ordinary Kaffir brag, and it made me angry. But I thought it best to go cannily.

,if I am to be your slave,' I managed to say, 'it would be a pity to beat me so hard. You would get no more work out of me.'

'Mwanga grinned wickedly. 'You are my slave for a day and a night. After that we kill you - slowly. You will burn till your legs fall off and your knees are on the ground, and then you will be chopped small with knives.'

Thank God, my courage and common sense were coming back to me.

'What happens to me to-morrow,' I said, 'is the Inkulu's business, not yours. I am his prisoner. But if you lift your hand on me to-day so as to draw one drop of blood the Inkulu will make short work of you. The vow is upon you, and if you break it you know what happens.' And I repeated, in a fair imitation of the priest's voice, the terrible curse he had pronounced in the cave.

You should have seen the change in that cur's face. I had guessed he was a coward, as he was most certainly a bully, and now I knew it. He shivered, and drew his hand over his eyes.

'Nay, Baas,' he pleaded, 'it was but a joke. No harm shall come on you to-day. But tomorrow -' and his ugly face grew more cheerful.

'To-morrow we shall see what we shall see,' I said stoically, and a loud drum-beat sounded through the camp.

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