“Yes, we know,” answered Dick. “We know that M’Bongwele was dethroned and banished by the four Spirits because of his barbarous and iniquitous rule, and that Seketulo was made king in his stead. We know also that, after a time, M’Bongwele secretly returned from exile, and, aided by certain powerful chiefs, slew Seketulo and reinstated himself as King of the Makolo. And, finally, we know that when the four Spirits revisited this country in their great glittering ship that flies through the air, they again deposed M’Bongwele and hanged him and his chief witch doctor from the bough of a tree, because, despite their previous warning, they persisted in their evil-doing. And in M’Bongwele’s place they made you, Lobelalatutu, King of the Makolo.”
“It is even so, O Healer!” assented the king. “The tale, as you tell it, is the truth; and now I know of a verity that, possessing this knowledge, you are like unto the Spirits themselves, to be trusted, even as they were; therefore will I, without fear, unfold to you the tale of my present trouble. It was the dissatisfaction of certain chiefs with Seketulo’s system of government, as prescribed to him by the four Spirits, that made M’Bongwele’s secret return and his resumption of the throne possible. Seketulo was instructed to govern the Makolo justly and humanely, to put a stop to the oppression of the people by the chiefs, and, above all, not to make war upon the neighbouring nations save in self-defence. It was this last restriction that occasioned the greatest discontent among certain of the chiefs; because, the Makolo being a powerful and warlike nation, we were generally victorious when we went to war, and the greater part of the spoils went to the chiefs, who thus increased their riches as often as we made raids upon our neighbours. But under Seketulo’s rule all this was altered, and we were obliged to be content with such wealth as we already possessed; hence the discontent and all that followed upon it. Now, since I became king, I have endeavoured to govern my people even as Seketulo did; and for a long time things have gone very well with us; the number of the Makolo, no longer kept down by war, has greatly increased, as also has our prosperity; for now that war is no longer part of its policy the nation has devoted itself to agriculture and the breeding of cattle, our herds have greatly multiplied, new villages have sprung up, fresh land has every year been brought under cultivation, and all have enough, and more than enough, to satisfy their wants. But of late I have suspected that, despite our steadily increasing prosperity, all is not well with us. I have detected signs of discontent not only among the chiefs, but among the people themselves; there have been murmurs that the long peace which we have enjoyed is converting the Makolo into a nation of women who will soon lose the capacity for fighting; our neighbours are growing insolent and aggressive; and—worst sign of all—those chiefs who most boldly support me in my determination to continue to rule in accordance with the tenets laid down by the four Spirits, are rapidly dying off, one after the other, by some mysterious disease.”
“Phew! I say, that looks very fishy, doesn’t it, Dick?” exclaimed Grosvenor, when the king had concluded his story. “Smacks of conspiracy and secret murder—eh, what?”
“Yes,” agreed Dick; “I must confess that it undoubtedly has a look of that kind of thing about it.” Then, turning to Lobelalatutu, he asked:
“How long is it since the chiefs who support you began to sicken and die; and how many have already passed along the Dark Path?”
“It is now nearly three moons since ’Mtatu, my most trustworthy chief, died; and since then five others have travelled along the same Dark Road,” answered the king. “And now a seventh, ’Nkuni, lies sick in his hut with the same symptoms as the others. Three nights and two days has he thus lain.”
“And how long does the sickness usually last?” asked Dick, his professional instincts being at once aroused.
“They usually die on the seventh day after the sickness declares itself,” answered the king.
“Good!” responded Dick. “Then your friend is in no immediate danger; and to-morrow, when we present ourselves before you with our gifts, I will see him, and it may be that I shall be able to save his life. Have you aught further to tell us?”
“No,” answered the king. “I have now told all. But I fear that all these things portend evil to me, and, perchance, the end of my reign and life. It is for this reason that I have visited you to-night in secret; for I hoped that if a conspiracy is growing up against me you might be able to name the conpirators to me. That is all the help I ask,” he finished grimly.