That register is before me now as I write.

That, with a lock of my darling's hair which lies between its leaves, is my dearest possession.

There are all the names and marks as they were written many years ago beneath the shadow of the tree at Babyan Kraals in the wilderness, but alas! and alas! where are those who wrote them?
"My people," said Mr.Carson, when the signing was done, and we had kissed each other before them all--"My people, Macumazahn and the Star, my daughter, are now man and wife, to live in one kraal, to eat of one bowl, to share one fortune till they reach the grave.

Hear now, my people, you know this woman," and turning he pointed to Hendrika, who, unseen by us, had been led out of the prison hut.
"Yes, yes, we know her," said a little ring of headmen, who formed the primitive court of justice, and after the fashion of natives had squatted themselves in a circle on the ground in front of us.

"We know her, she is the white Babyan-woman, she is Hendrika, the body servant of the Star." "You know her," said Mr.Carson, "but you do not know her altogether.
Stand forward, Indaba-zimbi, and tell the people what came about last night in the hut of Macumazahn." Accordingly old Indaba-zimbi came forward, and, squatting down, told his moving tale with much descriptive force and many gestures, finishing up by producing the great knife from which his watchfulness had saved me.
Then I was called upon, and in a few brief words substantiated his story: indeed my face did that in the sight of all men.
Then Mr.Carson turned to Hendrika, who stood in sullen silence, her eyes fixed upon the ground, and asked her if she had anything to say.
She looked up boldly and answered-- "Macumazahn has robbed me of the love of my mistress.