"Is that all?" asked the chief, quietly, and his eyes ran keenly over the faces of the other warriors. "I will consider, for it is well that we should have no differences."
"Hark to the wisdom!" shouted the warriors.
"We must stand together," continued Muata, "or we fall. And I am glad of this thing; it has shown our weakness." He stood a moment, then, with a sudden glance back at his young men, he bounded forward, and with one stroke of his terrible knife struck the leader of the band to the ground. "Hold!" he roared, as the young men, with a terrific shout, sprang forward. "Let a man move but a hand, and he is dead."
There was one breathless moment, during which men stood with upraised spears, their eyes glaring, their breasts heaving, and their breath coming in quick gasps. A woman laughed and the tension slackened.
"Back—back!" and before the fierce word of command the young warriors drew off.
"One is enough," growled Muata, transformed, terrible in his fury, and glaring at the small band who stood around the fallen body. "If I thought that ye were in the counsels of this dog who lies there, not one of ye would be spared. It was in his heart to betray us to Hassan."
"We knew it not, great black one," muttered the men, humbly.
"If I thought ye knew," growled the chief, with a terrible look, "there would be an end to you. See that ye carry yourselves well."
The three travellers had stood fast during this scene, and now
Muata, having wiped the blood from his knife, turned to them.
"It is the law," he said, as if in explanation. "Haw! when I descended into the valley, in the night, I heard evil words spoken round the fire. It was time to act, and as it was seen by your medicine, the law was done."