AT THE FATAL MOMENT
WITH great ceremony Umkomasi made obeisance to the amulet, his
example being followed by each of the subordinate chieftains in
turn. Then, while every warrior in the amphitheatre knelt and
touched the ground with his forehead, Umkomasi paid reverence to the
gigantic golden idol.
The amulet, the mystic symbol of the Makoh'lenga, had been found in
the profane possession of strangers. It had been recovered, and
atonement had to be made to the Golden Lion, in order to quell its
wrath. More than that, the two white men from whom it had been
recovered had to pay the penalty for their transgressions--and the
penalty was death by being torn by the descending paw of the huge
metallic beast.
All this was explained by Umkomasi to the two bound captives. They
did not understand what he said, and Umkomasi knew that they didn't.
It was part of the ritual, and had to be carried out; but both Colin
and Tiny realised that they were in imminent peril of death in a
most cruel and prolonged form.
Colin remembered the words of his cabin-mate in the Cape-bound
liner; how he deprecated any suggestion on the lad's part to probe
the secret of the mysterious Makoh'lenga.
Sinclair had wanted to, it was true, but the present trouble was not
of his seeking. If he had blundered into the Makoh'lenga country in
spite of warnings, it was his look-out. But he had not; the
Makoh'lenga had captured Tiny and him while they were engaged in a
shooting expedition some miles from the boundaries of the
Makoh'lenga territory.
Again, if Van der Wyck spoke the truth, how came it that he ventured
his life amongst these disciples of refined cruelty, and contrived
to escape unharmed? Had he really assisted the Chief Umkomasi and
been given the amulet as a mark of gratitude? Or had the Afrikander
stolen the mysterious symbol?
That was likely. It rather coincided with the supposition that Van
der Wyck was a desperate adventurer who made his living by robbery.
But, on the other hand, how could he penetrate into the
closely-guarded fastnesses of Makoh'lenga and get away with the
amulet unless with the consent of the guardians of the precious
bauble?
All these thoughts ran through Colin's mind as he gazed at the
grotesque, ungainly lump of gold fashioned after the king of beasts.
His first thoughts of terror had passed. His senses were numbed to
the horrors of his surroundings. He found himself hoping that when
the supreme moment came the end would be sharp, and that he would
meet it with the fortitude of his race.
Presently Colin noticed a certain liveliness on the part of Umkomasi
and his supporters. They were keenly regarding a circular patch of
moonlight that fell upon the floor of the cave, within a foot or so
of the base of the sacrificial altar.
The beam streamed through a small aperture in the roof of the cave,
and its significance in connection with the hideous rites was plain.
In a few minutes--in a quarter of an hour at the most--that patch of
moonlight would fall upon the golden idol.
That would be the signal for the terrible paw to fall, to crush
beneath its weight the victims of the idol's vengeance.
It was not on the occasion of every full moon that these conditions
occurred, otherwise Colin and his chum would have been haled to
their deaths twenty-eight days previously. But that did not alter
the fact that the most unpleasant time had arrived when the earth's
satellite followed an orbit that took it immediately in line with
the axis of the shaft through the roof of the sacrificial cave.
Then Colin found himself wondering what would happen if an eclipse
darkened the moon. He had heard of an opportune eclipse proving a
means of salvation to travellers in peril of their lives at the
hands of savages.
But it was a forlorn hope. There was not so much as a partial
darkening of the moon. Even if there were it would take at least a
couple of hours to effect total obscuration, and by that time....
Umkomasi gave an order. From a recess in the cave half-a-dozen men
bounded forward with ropes in their hands.
Throwing the coil over their shoulders, the six stalwart natives
heaved and strained at the sacrificial stone, dragging it from under
the idol. The paw of the golden lion was now motionless, poised in
the air ready to descend upon the stone when it was replaced with
its living victim.
These preparations made, the six men look inquiringly at Umkomasi.
The Chief gave no sign. He was carefully observing the slow progress
of that patch of silvery light across the floor of the cave.
Suddenly Desmond fell with a dull thud. He had fainted under the
excessive strain of the last few minutes. Colin could render him no
assistance. His arms, being bound, prevented him, while, in point of
fact, he was beginning to feel faint and dizzy himself.
"Perhaps it's as well," he soliloquised. "Tiny won't feel anything
while he's like that. Wish I were in his state, too."
Desmond's collapse had no effect upon the natives. They looked on
impassively, waiting for a sign from their Chief. The disc of the
moon was lapping the shoulder of the idol.
A word of command, and the double line of torch-bearers held the
torches behind them, throwing the centre of the cave into deep
shadows. The six attendants stiffened themselves like beasts of prey
about to spring upon their victims.
Before Umkomasi could utter the fatal orders there was a commotion
in the armed ranks drawn up in the arena. Angrily the Chief looked
in that direction to find the reason for the unwonted noise.
Colin turned and looked also. He could hardly believe the evidence
of his eyes, for limping between the columns of warriors was a tall,
bearded white man with a canvas haversack on his shoulder, calling
peremptorily upon the name of Umkomasi.
With an effort Sinclair moistened his dry lips and raised his voice,
shouting in a cracked high-pitched tone that he hardly recognised as
his own:
"Van der Wyck!"
"Right-o, sonny," replied the Afrikander, briskly. "You'll be all
right; leave it to me."
Umkomasi was on the horns of a dilemma. If he did not give the fatal
order almost at once the sacrifice would be too late. He also seemed
anxious to order Van der Wyck to be removed, yet he obviously feared
the white man.
Van der Wyck forestalled the Chief. In a voice of thunder he bade
the six assistants to make themselves scarce. They obeyed with
considerable alacrity.
Then deliberately walking up to where Colin stood, the Afrikander
cut the rope that bound him.
"See to your friend," he said, handing Sinclair the knife. "You'll
be all right, I'll promise you. Don't move until I tell you. I've a
few words to say to these gentlemen, particularly to my
acquaintance, Umkomasi."