xii THE RAID 119 



only by the low murmurous lap-lap of the lake, 

 now sinking to rest after a tumultuous and stormy 

 day. Inside the village huts, the native families 

 are contentedly sleeping, one of the members 

 waking now and then to replenish the family 

 fire, which is seldom allowed to die out, while all 

 are blissfully unconscious that danger is at hand, 

 or that the shadow of death, swift and brutal, 

 is drawing nearer and nearer such is, at times, 

 the sublime cruelty of Fate ! Outside, under cover 

 of impenetrable night, silent sinister shapes move 

 stealthily about and finally take up their positions 

 in ones or twos at the door of every hut these 

 are the raiders, prepared and eager for their foul 

 work. For a space, all is intensely still, and then, 

 in the vicinity of the headman's house, there 

 suddenly appears, in vivid contrast with the intense 

 darkness, a mysterious, glowing red spot, which 

 just as suddenly vanishes. A raider has carried 

 a smouldering stick from the last camp fire and 

 thrust it deep into the dry, inflammable thatch 

 of the roof. In a few moments, the smouldering- 

 grass is blown into little, licking flames which, 

 caught by a gusty breeze, leap into long, shooting 

 tongues of fire, which, hissing and crackling, illu- 

 minate the surrounding huts and forest in a 

 ghostly glare. The roar of the conflagration soon 

 wakens the occupants of the blazing hut, and 



