Well, more place for Jeekie now," and he spread himself out comfortably in the empty seat, adding, "like hello-swello's room much better than company, he go in scent-bath every day and stink too much, all that water never wash _him_ clean." Thus died the Mungana, and such was the poor wretch's requiem.

With a shiver Alan reflected that had it not been for him and his insane jealousy, he too might have been expected to go into that same scent-bath and have his face painted like a chorus girl.

Only would he escape the spell that had destroyed his predecessor in the affections of the priestess of the Bonsas?
Or would some dim power such as had drawn Mungana to the death drag him back to the arms of the Asika or to the torture pit of "Great Swimming Head." He remembered his dream in the Treasure Hall and shuddered at the very thought of it, for all he had undergone and seen made him superstitious; then bade the men paddle faster, ever faster.
All that night they rowed on, taking turns to rest, except Alan and Jeekie, who slept a good deal and as a consequence awoke at dawn much refreshed.

When the sun rose they found themselves across the lagoon, over thirty miles from the borders of Asiki-land, almost at the spot where the river up which they had travelled some months before, flowed out of the lake.

Whether by chance or skill Fahni had steered a wonderfully straight course.