"Well!" said Leo, "it is a blessing to find anybody to carry us after having to carry ourselves so long."'
Leo always takes a cheerful view of things.
There being no help for it, after seeing the others into theirs I tumbled into my own litter, and very comfortable I found it.It appeared to be manufactured of cloth woven from grass fibre, which stretched and yielded to every motion after the body, and, being bound top and bottom to the bearing pole, gave a grateful support to the head and neck.
Scarcely had I settled myself when, accompanying their steps with a monotonous song, the bearers started at a swinging trot.For half an hour or so I lay still, reflecting on the very remarkable experiences that we were going through, and wondering if any of my eminently respectable fossil friends down at Cambridge would believe me if I were to be miraculously set at the familiar dinner-table for the purpose of relating them.I don't want to convey any disrespectful notion or slight when I call those good and learned men fossils, but my experience is that people are apt to fossilize even at a university if they follow the same paths too persistently.I was getting fossilized myself, but of late my stock of ideas has been very much enlarged.Well, I lay and reflected, and wondered what on earth would be the end of it all, till at last l ceased to wonder, and went to sleep.
I suppose I must have slept for seven or eight hours, getting the first real rest that I had had since the night before the loss of the dhow, for when I woke the sun was high in the heavens.We were still journeying on at a pace of about four miles an hour.Peeping out through the mistlike curtains of the litter, which were ingeniously fixed to the bearing pole, Iperceived to my infinite relief that we had passed out of the region of eternal swamp, and were now travelling over swelling grassy plains towards a cup-shaped hill.Whether or not it was the same hill that we had seen from the canal I do not know, and have never since been able to discover, for, as we afterwards found out, these people will give little information upon such points.Next I glanced at the men who were bearing me.They were of a magnificent build, few of them being under six feet in height, and yellowish in color.Generally their appearance had a good deal in common with that of the East African Somali, only their hair was not frizzed up, and hung in thick black locks upon their shoulders.Their features were aquiline, and in many cases exceedingly handsome, the teeth being especially regular and beautiful.But notwithstanding their beauty, it struck me that, on the whole, I had never seen a more evil looking set of faces.There was an aspect of cold and sullen cruelty stamped upon them that revolted me, and which in some cases was almost uncanny in its intensity.
Another thing which struck me about them was that they never seemed to smile.Sometimes they sang the monotonous song of which I have spoken, but when they were not singing they remained almost perfectly silent, and the light of a laugh never came to brighten their sombre and evil countenances.Of what race could these people be? Their language was a bastard Arabic, and yet they were not Arabs; I was quite sure of that.For one thing they were too dark, or, rather, yellow.I could not say why, but I know that their appearance filled me with a sick fear of which I felt ashamed.While I was still wondering another litter came up alongside of mine.In itfor the curtains were drawnsat an old man, clothed in a whitish robe, made apparently from coarse linen, that hung loosely about him, who, I at once jumped to the conclusion, was the shadowy figure who had stood on the bank and been addressed as "Father."He was a wonderful-looking old man, with a snowy beard, so long that the ends of it hung over the sides of the litter, and he had a hooked nose, above which flashed out a pair of eyes as keen as a snake's, while his whole countenance was instinct with a look of wise and sardonic humor impossible to describe on paper.
"Art thou awake, stranger?" he said, in a deep and low voice.
"Surely, my father," I answered, courteously, feeling certain that I should do well to conciliate this ancient Mammon of Unrighteousness.
He stroked his beautiful white beard, and smiled faintly.
"From whatever country thou camest," he said, "and, by the way, it must be from one where somewhat of our language is known, they teach their children courtesy there, my stranger son.And now, wherefore comest thou unto this land, which scarce an alien foot has pressed from the time that man knoweth? Art thou and those with thee weary of life?""'We came to find new things," I answered boldly."We are tired of the old things; we have come up out of the sea to know that which is unknown.We are of a brave race who fear not death, my very much respected fatherthat is, if we can get a little fresh information before we die.""Humph!" said the old gentleman, "that may be true; it is rash to contradict, otherwise I should say that thou wast lying, my son.However, I dare say that _i_She-who-must-be-obeyed _i_ will meet thy wishes in the matter.""Who is ' _i_ She-who-must-be-obeyed _i_ '?" I asked, curiously.
The old man glanced at the bearers, and then answered, with a little smile that somehow sent my blood to my heart"Surely, my stranger son, thou wilt learn soon enough, if it be her pleasure to see thee at all in the flesh.""In the flesh?" I answered."What may my father wish to convey?"But the old man only laughed a dreadful laugh, and made no reply.
"What is the name of my father's people?" I asked.
"The name of my people is Amahagger" (the People of the Rocks).
"And, if.a son might ask, what is the name of my father?""My name is Billali."
"And whither go we, my father?"
