“Who bade you strike the servant of my guest, O Mungana?  Let him come also that he may stand behind us and interpret.”

Her wretched husband, who knew that this public slight was put upon him purposely, but did not dare to protest against it, bowed his head.  Then all three of them climbed to the dais, the priests and the musicians remaining below.

“Welcome, Vernoon,” said the Asika through the lips of the mask, which to Alan, notwithstanding the dreadful cruelty of its expression, looked less hateful than the lovely, tigerish face it hid.  “Welcome and be seated here on my left hand, since on my right you may not sit—­as yet.”

He bowed and took the chair to which she pointed, while her husband placed himself in the other chair upon her right, and Jeekie stood behind, his great shape towering above them all.

“This is a festival of my people, Vernoon,” she went on, “such a festival as has not been seen for years, celebrated because Little Bonsa has come back to them.”

“What is to happen?” he asked uneasily.  “I have told you, Lady, that blood is orunda to me.  I must not witness it.”

“I know, be not afraid,” she answered.  “Sacrifice there must be, since it is the custom and we may not defraud the gods, but you shall not see the deed.  Judge from this, Vernoon, how greatly I desire to please you.”

Now Alan, looking about him, saw that immediately beneath the dais and between them and the edge of the water, were gathered his cannibal friends, the Ogula, and Fahni their chief who had rowed him to Asiki-land, and with them the messengers whom they had sent on ahead.  Also he saw that their arms were tied behind them and that they were guarded by men dressed like devils and armed with spears.

“Ask Fahni why he and his people are bound, Jeekie,” said Alan, “and why have they not returned to their own country.”

Jeekie obeyed, putting the question in the Ogula language, whereon the poor men turned and began to implore Alan to save their lives, Fahni adding that he had been told they were to be killed that night.

“Why are these men to be slain?” asked Alan of the Asika.

“Because I have learned that they attacked you in their own country, Vernoon,” she answered, “and would have killed you had it not been for Little Bonsa.  It is therefore right that they should die as an offering to you.”

“I refuse the offering since afterwards they dealt well with me.  Set them free and let them return to their own land, Asika.”

“That cannot be,” she replied coldly.  “Here they are and here they remain.  Still, their lives are yours to take or to spare, so keep them as your servants if you will,” and bending down she issued a command which was instantly obeyed, for the men dressed like devils cut the bonds of the Ogula and brought them round to the back of the dais, where they stood blessing Alan loudly in their own tongue.