"Let it be so," repeated the warriors.
"Where is the fetish-man?" the king asked.
"Where is the fetish-man? Where is the fetish-man? Where is Kamba?" numerous voices began to call.
Then something occurred which might change entirely the state of affairs, embroil the friendly relations, and make the negroes enemies of the newly arrived guests. From the hut standing apart and surrounded by a separate stockade, there suddenly resounded an infernal din. It was like the roar of a lion, like thunder, like the rumbling of a drum, like the laughter of a hyena, the howling of a wolf, and like the shrill creaking of rusty iron hinges. The King hearing these dreadful sounds, began to trumpet, Saba barked, the donkey, on which Nasibu sat, brayed. The warriors leaped as if scalded, and pulled the spears out of the ground. Confusion ensued. Stas' ears were assailed by the uneasy shouts of: "Our Mzimu! Our Mzimu!" The esteem and favor, with which they looked at the arrivals, vanished in one moment. The eyes of the savages began to cast suspicious and hostile glances. Threatening murmurs began to rise among the crowd and the horrible noise in the isolated hut increased more and more.
Kali was terrified and, approaching Stas quickly, said in a voice broken with emotion:
"Master! the fetish-man has awakened the wicked Mzimu, who fears that he will lose gifts and is roaring in a rage. Master, quiet the fetish-man and the wicked Mzimu with great gifts, for otherwise these men will turn against us."
"Quiet them?" Stas asked.
And suddenly he was possessed by anger at the perversity and greed of the fetish-man; and the unexpected danger roused him to the bottom of his soul. His swarthy
