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 mist-like curtains of the litter, which were ingeniously fixed to
the bearing pole, I perceived 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
colour. Generally their appearance had a good deal in common with that
of the East African Somali, only their hair was not frizzed up, but 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 that 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 it--for the curtains were drawn--sat 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 that 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