IN DISGUISE
For the moment it looked as though the expedition upon which Jim and his friend had set out was doomed to early disaster, for there was no denying the fact that they had unwittingly aroused the anger of the natives. And yet, what could they do? Passing through the bazaar in their search for information, an evil chance had brought them into contact with this gathering, and they had found themselves compelled to accept the unwelcome invitation to join the circle which sat about the brazier. And now, at the very beginning, indeed, within less than a minute they were engaged in an altercation with them. Deeply did Jim regret the fact that he could not speak the language, for had he been able to do so, there would have been no need for silence, and no need to ruffle the feelings of the gathering.
It was a dilemma, and, puzzle his brains as he might, he could not come to any solution that would help him. Instead, therefore, he sat there stolidly, his eyes now fixed upon the brazier, and then turning for the space of a second to the man who confronted him.
"Insolent! How dare you to insult us so?" shouted the native, thrusting his hand into the folds of his waistcloth, to withdraw it a moment later clasping the handle of a dagger. "Dog!" he continued, springing forward. "Speak, or I will bury this blade in your flesh."
Meanwhile the other natives who formed the gathering had sprung to their feet, and crowded about the two young Englishmen with threatening gestures.
