"The house of your father is not in the country of the Gallas," growled the warrior. "You are one of these who come to rob us of our sons and daughters."
"No," replied Fejjuan. "I am a Galla."
"If you were a Galla you would speak the language of the Gallas better. We understand you, but you do not speak as a Galla speaks."
"That is because I was stolen away when I was a child and have lived among the Bedauwy since, speaking only their tongue."
"What is your name?"
"The Bedauwy call me Fejjuan, but my Galla name was Ulala."
"Do you think he speaks the truth?" demanded one of the blacks of a companion. "When I was a child I had a brother whose name was Ulala."
"Where is he?" asked the other warrior.
"We do not know. Perhaps simba the lion devoured him. Perhaps the desert people took him. Who knows?"
"Perhaps he speaks the truth," said the second warrior. "Perhaps he is your brother. Ask him his father's name."