I am a stranger here and you are a great man; yet, Hokosa, which of us is the safest this night ?" "Your meaning ?" said Hokosa sharply.
"O man!" answered Owen, "when in a certain hour you crept up the valley yonder, and climbing the Tree of Death gathered its poison, went I not with you?
When, before that hour, you sat in yonder hut bargaining with the Prince Hafela--the death of a king for the price of a girl--was I not with you?
Nay, threaten me not--in your own words I say it--'lay down that assegai, or by my spirit your body shall be thrown to the kites, as that of one who would murder the king'-- and the king's guest!" "White Man," whispered Hokosa throwing down the spear, "how can these things be?
I was alone in the hut with the prince, I was alone beneath the Tree of Doom, and you, as I know well, were beyond the river.

Your spies must be good, White Man." "My spirit is my only spy, Hokosa.

My spirit watched you, and from your own lips he learned the secret of the bane and of the antidote.

Hafela mixed the poison as you taught him; I gave the remedy, and saved the king alive." Now the knees of Hokosa grew weak beneath him, and he leaned against the fence of the kraal for support.
"I have skill in the art," he said hoarsely; "but, Messenger, your magic is more than mine, and my life is forfeit to you.

To-morrow morning, you will tell the king all, and to-morrow night I shall hang upon the dreadful Tree.