Through the ranks of the Kikuyu tribesmen behind and encircling them, and Frank could hear a of fear that grew in volume until the air was filled with cries of fright. The forming the inner ring of the circle shook with terror.  
So, too, did those tallest of the Kikuyus forming the chief’s own . As for Chief Ruku-Ru, over his face spread an .
 
But Frank’s programme was not yet complete. In the few minutes with Bob and Matse in their tent beyond the grass-thatched village huts, he had a second step which he assumed would their hold over the chief and assure the complete terrorization of the Kikuyus. Now he proceeded to put this into execution.
 
alone in the midst of the great circle Of blacks, facing the ashen chief, noting the spears of the bodyguard trembling like forest trees in a strong wind as the hands which held them shook with terror, he was filled with satisfaction. So far all had gone well. Now to strike the final blow.
 
“Quick, Wimba,” he cried to the prisoner, who alone of that alien multitude had any inkling as to the source of that mysterious voice from the sky, yet who was not to be free from the terror which gripped the other blacks. “Quick, Wimba. Translate for me.” And facing the chief, Frank cried:
 
“Oh, Chief Ruku-Ru, thou hast heard the response of our gods. To show you there is none within the council tree, who might have said these things, for it is thence came the voice, I ask that you order your warriors to discharge their arrows into the midst of the .”
 
Well Frank knew that in the great hollow on the back side the main trunk, so found the previous night, the loudspeaker and its connections would be safe from stray arrows. Furthermore, the loop aerial employed was securely amidst a thick bushy mass of leaves, and likewise would be safe from harm.
 
But Chief Ruku-Ru was past giving any orders. He attempted to speak, upon Wimba translating Frank’s words, but was unable to command his stricken tongue. Nor did the warriors of his bodyguard upon hearing Frank’s injunction show any to shoot into the top of the sacred tree. That they were terror-stricken was plain to be seen. And equally plain was their to antagonize any supernatural agency which Frank had .
 
This Frank had counted upon. Drawing his revolver, he levelled it at the treetops and himself announced that he would make the test. This Wimba translated. Again a murmur of swept through the encircling mass of natives.
 
Frank fired. Three shots he pumped into the treetop. Scarcely had the echo died away, and before Chief Ruku-Ru or anybody else, either, for that matter, could speak, than the voice from the air rang again in the Kikuyu tongue.
 
“I am a Spirit,” it cried. “Neither white man’s thunder nor Kikuyu arrows can avail against me. Obey, O Chief Ruku-Ru, or thy country shall be laid under my spell. Set Wimba free.”
 
Neither Frank nor Jack could understand what was said. But well they knew that Matse was merely uttering into the broadcasting phone in their tent, while Bob manipulated the motor, those statements which upon his signals Frank had arranged he should declaim. And that such was the case was apparent from the profound and effect upon the chief and his .
 
It was unnecessary for Wimba to translate the messages from the air for the boys’ benefit.
 
Chief Ruku-Ru managed upon the dying away of the mysterious voice to gain some control over himself. Not for nothing was he chief. His self-command was . The more so in view of the fact that he was as profoundly impressed and terror-stricken by these which Frank had as was the meanest of his followers.
 
He did not rise from his armchair throne, for the very good reason that he feared his knees would give way beneath him. But he did manage to speak.
 
Pointing to the two guards who clasped Wimba on either side, he ordered them to release their prisoner. To Frank and Jack, tense and anxious regarding the outcome of their experiment, his words were as so much Greek. But they were left in no doubt as to their meaning.
 
The guards at once the cords Wimba’s wrists together behind his back and unwound the heavier rope about his right ankle tying him to a stake in the ground. Likewise they released their grip on his arms. Then they bowed low to him.
 
A moment Wimba stood uncertain. He was dazed. He could hardly believe his good fortune. He gazed first at the chief, then at the encircling natives, half of whom were for flight, fearing a further by the white man’s god, and finally brought his eyes to bear upon Frank.
 
Then with an inarticulate cry of , he rushed across the intervening space, and threw himself on the ground. Tears streaming from his eyes, he clasped Frank’s feet and in broken sentences thanked him for his deliverance.
 
“Get up, Wimba,” commanded Frank. “Tell Chief Ruku-Ru that our Great Spirit is about to bless him for this deed.”
 
Once more Wimba faced the chief and in a voice trembling with feeling he repeated Frank’s words.
 
Then Frank the final step in his hastily-thought-out plan. Setting his fingers to his lips he whistled. But this time only twice. It was the agreed signal.
 
From the air boomed again the mysterious voice:
 
“O, Chief Ruku-Ru, thy name shall be great as an of justice. Thy tribe shall be fruitful, thy cattle fat, thy springs filled with sweet water. I have spoken.”
 
Silence.
 
“Let’s make our getaway now, Frank,” whispered Jack. “We’ve gotten out of this a whole lot better than we had any right to expect. Don’t fate too much.”
 
But filled with the confidence of success, Frank only smiled. He whispered to Wimba, and the latter addressing Chief Ruku-Ru announced that in honor of the occasion his white masters would that night bring music from the air, and that they invited the whole tribe to assemble after dusk before the council tree.
 
With this, leaving the chief and all the assemblage , the boys and Wimba departed. As they moved away, the Kikuyus opened a passage for them in haste. Now that the strain of the situation was over, both Frank and Jack were seized with an insane desire to laugh. But they managed to control their emotions, and to retain upon their faces a look of the most solemn gravity. Only when at length they had passed out of earshot of the multitude and had put the last of the grass-thatched huts behind them, did they give way to their feelings. Then they flung themselves into the long grass of the meadow separating the village from their encampment and rolling over and over they simply howled with laughter while Wimba watched them in the greatest .
 
“I’ll never forget that scene to my dying day,” laughed Jack, finally.
 
“Nor I,” said Frank, weak from laughter. “Come on. Let’s find Bob, and tell him how it worked out.”
 
Before he could strike away, however, Jack sobering turned to Wimba. Laying a hand on Frank’s shoulder, he said:
 
“Wimba, here is the fellow who saved your life. It was his idea. He’ll explain it all to you. It is to him you must give your thanks first, and then to your comrade Matse who helped.”
 
“Oh, come, Jack,” said Frank uncomfortably. But Wimba threw himself once more at Frank’s feet.
 
“My life belong you, baas,” he said in a choking voice.