inch thick. All along the outside wall, under the eaves, hung a
row of gruesome ornaments, heads of the boar and deer and other
wild animals killed in the chase, and here and there mingled with
them the skulls of Chinamen. The house held one large room, and,
as it was a cold evening, a fire burned at either end of it. At
one end the men stood chatting, at the other the women squatted.
The visitors were invited to sit by the men's fire. There were
several beds along the wall, two of which were offered to the
strangers. But they were not prepared to remain for the night,
and had decided to start back before the shadows fell.

The whole village came to the chief's house and crowded round the
newcomers, men first, women and children on the outskirts, and
dogs still farther back. Several men came forward and claimed
Mackay as a friend. They touched their own breasts and then his,
in salutation, grinning in a most friendly manner. The young
missionary was at first puzzled, then smiled delightedly. They
were some of the poor fellows to whom he had given quinine the
evening before in the valley.

This greeting seemed to encourage the others. They became more
friendly and suddenly one man who had been circling round the
visitors touched the back of Mackay's head and exclaimed, "They
do not wear the cue! They are our kinsmen." From that moment they
were treated with far greater kindness, and on several other
visits that Mackay made to the head-hunters, they always spoke
with interest of him as kinsman.

But all danger was not over. The savages were still suspicious,
and at any moment the newcomers might excite them. So they