nd observed
that these mountains were no longer visible. Where they had been was
nothing but a line of black and heavy cloud. After looking for a while
he returned and addressing the envoys, said quite casually:

"If you will be advised by me, friends, you will ride hard for the
river. There is such rain upon the mountains as I have never seen
before, and you will be fortunate if you cross it before the flood comes
down, the greatest flood that has happened in our day."

This intelligence seemed to disturb the messengers, for they too stepped
out of the shed and stared at the mountains, muttering to each other
something that I could not understand. Then they returned and with a
fine appearance of indifference demanded an immediate answer to their
challenge.

"Can you not guess it?" answered Harut. Then changing his tone he drew
himself to his full height and thundered out at them: "Get you back
to your evil spirit of a god that hides in the shape of a beast of the
forest and to his slave who calls himself a king, and say to them: 'Thus
speaks the Child to his rebellious servants, the Black Kendah dogs: Swim
my river when you can, which will not be yet, and come up against me
when you will; for whenever you come I shall be ready for you. You are
already dead, O Jana. You are already dead, O Simba the slave. You are
scattered and lost, O dogs of the Black Kendah, and the home of such
of you as remain shall be far away in a barren land, where you must dig
deep for water and live upon the wild game because there little corn
will grow.' Now begone, and swiftly, lest you stop here for ever."

So they turned and went, leaving me full of admiration for the
histrionic powers of Harut.

I must add, however, that being without doubt a keen observer of the
weather conditions of the neighbourhood, he was quite right about
the rain upon the mountains, which by the way never extended to the
territory of the People of the Child. As we heard afterwards, the flood
came down just as the envoys reached the river; indeed, one of them was
drowned in attempting its crossing, and for fourteen days after this it
remained impassable to an army.

That very evening we began our preparations to meet an attack which was
now inevitable. Putting aside the supposed rival powers of the tribal
divinities worshipped under the names of the Child and Jana, which,
while they added a kind of Homeric interest to the contest, could, we
felt, scarcely