"You see," exclaimed Zveri, "just a band of savages armed with clubs. We could take the city without the loss of a man."
"What did they look like?" demanded Kitembo. "Describe them to me," and when Romero had done so, with careful attention to details, Kitembo shook his head. "It is as I thought," he said. "They are not men; they are demons."
"Men or demons, we are going back there and take their city," said Zveri angrily. "We must have the gold of Opar."
"You may go, white man," returned Kitembo, "but you will go alone. I know my men, and I tell you that they will not follow you there. Lead us against white men, or brown men, or black men, and we will follow you. But we will not follow you against demons and ghosts."
"And you, Abu Batn?" demanded Zveri.
"I have talked with my men on the return from the city, and they tell me that they will not go back there. They will not fight the jân and ghrôl. They heard the voice of the jin warning them away, and they are afraid."
Zveri stormed and threatened and cajoled, but all to no effect. Neither the Aarab sheykh nor the African chief could be moved.
"There is still a way," said Romero.
"And what is that?" asked Zveri.
"When the gringo comes and the Philippine, there will be six of us who are neither Aarabs nor Africans. We six can take Opar." Paul Ivitch made a wry face, and Zveri cleared his throat.