glittered in his hand. Paralyzed with fear, he lay quite still, knowing
that should he show the slightest sign of consciousness that knife would
pierce his heart.

The Mungana watched him a while, then satisfied that he slept,
turned round and, bending himself almost double, glided with infinite
precautions towards Alan's bed, which stood some twelve or fourteen
feet away. Silently as a snake that uncoils itself, Jeekie slipped from
between his blankets and crept after him, his naked feet making no noise
upon the mat-strewn floor. So intent was the Mungana upon the deed which
he had come to do that he never looked back, and thus it happened that
the two of them reached the bed one immediately behind the other.

Alan was lying on his back with his throat exposed, a very easy victim.
For a moment the Mungana stared. Then he erected himself like a snake
about to strike, and lifted the great curved knife, taking aim at Alan's
naked breast. Jeekie erected himself also, and even as the knife began
to fall, with one hand he caught the arm that drove it and with the
other the murderer's throat. The Mungana fought like a wild-cat, but
Jeekie was too strong for him. His fingers held the man's windpipe like
a vise. He choked and weakened; the knife fell from his hand. He sank to
the ground and lay there helpless, whereon Jeekie knelt upon his chest
and, possessing himself of the knife, held it within an inch of his
heart.

It was at this juncture that Alan woke up and asked sleepily what was
the matter.

"Nothing, Major," answered Jeekie in low and cheerful tones. "Snake
just going to bite you and I catch him, that all," and he gave an extra