So they separated, Fahni and his men slipping down to the road, which they did without being seen by anyone, while Alan, Jeekie and the Mungana bore away to the right towards the promontory.  The road was long and rough and, though by good fortune they met no one, since the few who dwelt in these wild parts had gone up to Bonsa Town to be present at the great feast, the sun was sinking before ever they reached the place.  Moreover, this promontory proved to be covered with dense thorn scrub, through which they must force a way in the gathering darkness, not without hurt and difficulty.  Still they accomplished it and at length, quite exhausted, crept to the very point, where they hid themselves between some stones at the water’s edge.

Here they waited for three long hours, but no boat came.

“All up a gum-tree now, Major,” said Jeekie.  “Old blackguard, Fanny, bolt and leave us here, and to-morrow morning Asika nobble us.  Better have gone down to bay, steal his boat and leave him behind, because Asika no want him.”

Alan made no answer.  He was too tired, and although he trusted Fahni, it seemed likely enough that Jeekie was right, or perhaps the cannibals had not been able to get the boat.  Well, he had done his best, and if Fate overtook them it was no fault of his.  He began to doze, for even their imminent peril could not keep his eyes open, then presently awoke with a start, for in his sleep he thought he heard the sounds of paddles beating the quiet water.  Yes, there dimly seen through the mist, was a canoe, and seated in the stern of it Fahni.  So that danger had gone by also.

He woke his companions, who slept at his side, and very silently they rose, stepping from rock to rock till they reached the canoe and entered it.  It was not a large craft, barely big enough to hold them all indeed, but they found room, and then at a sign from Fahni the oarsmen gave way so heartily that within half an hour they had lost sight of the accursed shores of Asiki-land, although presently its mountains showed up clearly beneath the moon.

Meanwhile Fahni had told his tale.  It appeared that when he reached the bay he found the Asiki headman who dwelt there, and those under him, in a state of considerable excitement.

Rumours had reached them that someone had escaped from Bonsa Town; they thought it was the Mungana.  Fahni asked who had brought the rumour, whereon the headman answered that it came “in a dream,” and would say no more.  Then he demanded the canoe which had been promised to him and his people, and the headman admitted that it was ready in accordance with orders received from the Asika, but demurred to letting him have it.  A long argument followed, in the midst of which Fahni and his men got into the canoe, the headman apparently not daring to use force to prevent him.  Just as they were pushing off a messenger arrived from Bonsa Town, reeling with exhaustion and his tongue hanging from his jaws, who