No, there was nothing to be done; if the Major wished to start, the Major must start, and he, Jeekie, must pay the price.

Well, he deserved it, who had been fool enough to listen to the secret promptings of Little Bonsa and conduct him to Asiki-land.
Thus he passed several hours, for the most part in melancholy speculations as to the exact fashion of his end, until at length weariness overcame him also and, shutting his eyes, Jeekie began to doze.

Suddenly he grew aware of the presence of some other person in the room, but thinking that it was only the Asika prowling about in her uncanny fashion, or perhaps her spirit, for how her body entered the place he could not guess, he did not stir, but lay breathing heavily and watching out of the corner of his eye.
Presently a figure emerged from the shadows into the faint light thrown by the single lamp that burned above, and though it was wrapped in a dark cloak, Jeekie knew at once that it was not the Asika.

Very stealthily the figure crept towards him, as a leopard might creep, and bent down to examine him.

The movement caused the cloak to slip a little, and for an instant Jeekie caught sight of the wasted, half-crazed face of the Mungana, and of a long, curved knife that glittered in his hand.