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The Shadow of Death.

175

taken leave in like fashion of the other two. "The sooner this is over the better."

He passed out of the hut with a firm step, looking without flinching on the cruel preparations without. Whatever sinkings of heart he might have felt when his doom was first made known to him, they had all vanished now. He was a noble English boy, reared in all manly ways, and instructed by a thousand brave examples. His life, if not faultless, had been pure; his conscience void of any deep offence; and for the rest he trusted in the God who had bade him trust in Him. The same heroism which the striplings of our race showed on the deck of the Birkenhead, and in the wild scenes of the Indian mutiny, which upbore young Herbert, the highborn and gently nurtured, in his dread ordeal among the Greek brigands, was now burning in Frank's bosom. Let them do what they would to him, he would endure it without flinching.

Lavie and the other two lads followed closely after him, and were placed by Omatoko on the right hand of the post, to which Wilmore was about to be fastened, at a distance of some twelve feet from it.

"Do not let us see his death," said Gilbert in a low tone; "it will be too dreadful!”

"No," said Lavie, "it will do none of us good, though I know he will meet it bravely. We will kneel down here, and pray in silence till each in his turn is summoned."

He knelt as he spoke, and the others followed his example.

"It is not good," exclaimed old Maroro, as he noticed

the action.

man's God.

"The white man is praying to the white He will be angry with us, for the white man has done no wrong."

He spoke loud enough to be heard even by the chief, who cast a wrathful look at him in reply. If his reputation for wisdom and goodness had not stood so high with his countrymen, his boldness might have entailed serious consequences upon him. As it was, he was listened to in angry and impatient silence.

Frank had now been led to his station, and Omatoko and Leshoo were busied in binding him. Three cinctures were passed round him, one securing the neck, a second the waist, and the third the legs, to the strong upright post. They had just completed their task, and were about to retire-Umboo had already fitted the arrow to the string, and was on the point of bending it—when a loud cry of mingled surprise and alarm was raised by the spectators nearest to the prisoner, and was presently echoed by nearly all present. Lavie and the two boys started up, looking hurriedly round them, half expecting to see a band of armed Englishmen, who had come up at that critical moment to their rescue. But the eyes of the Hottentots were not turned in the direction they had expected, but into the air a few feet above them. A small beetle, of the size, perhaps, of a child's little finger, was hovering over their heads, its green back and speckled belly glittering bright in the beams of the sun. All present held their breath, and watched its motions with anxiety and awe. It gyrated awhile immediately above the post, as though seeking for some spot on which to settle. Suddenly it folded its wings, and, shooting downwards,

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A Strange Deliverance.

177

alighted on Frank Wilmore's head. There was a second and still louder cry, rising, in the instance of the women, into a shriek of terror at this spectacle. "The god! the god!" they cried. "The white boy is the favourite of the god. He has come to save him. Cut the thongs, set him free! Pray him to forgive us, or we shall all die. He will send drought and murrain! He will kill our flocks and herds! He will strike us dead with his lightnings! Not one will escape!"

A dozen Hottentots rushed up with their knives, and severed the bonds which held the prisoner. Then lifting him on to their shoulders they bore him in triumph through the village, the women singing and dancing round him, until the hut of the chief was reached. There Frank was placed by his supporters in the seat of honour, while all present prostrated themselves at his feet, entreating mercy.

The lad was at first too much startled and bewildered to understand what had happened. He had closed his eyes, expecting every moment to feel the fatal point, and even when he heard the shouts of the bystanders, believed it had been raised only because the arrow was on its way. But Lavie, who knew enough of Hottentot superstitions to understand what had occurred, hurried up to him, and informing him in a few words what was the true explanation of this extraordinary change, desired him to take the beetle from his forehead, where it was still resting, and retain it in his grasp, but to be extremely careful not to hurt it.

"It is the mantes, Frank," he said, "about which I was telling Ernest the other day. They believe that it is

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