CHAPTER XVIII.
WHY OUR HEROES DESERT.
For some hours the caravan passed through a country which was parklike, but parched by the dry weather.
The ground was sandy, but firm, and interspersed with villages, all of which were surrounded with a strong fence of euphorbia.
The girls kept up an incessant discord on the cymbals and drums, and the men, sent by the chief of the Gondos, were so impressed with the importance of their mission that every hundred yards or so they would stop, congratulate each other, and make some wonderful salaams before they continued the journey.
At the end of the second day’s march, a tribe hostile to the Gondos was encountered.
Five or six hundred naked savages appeared, well armed with lances, having flint heads, bows and arrows, and a peculiar weapon shaped almost like a sledge hammer—one side of the flint head being sharpened to a fine point, while the other was a hammer.
One of their number stepped forward, and addressing Ibrahim asked:
“Who are you?”
“A traveler, wishing to cross the desert.”
“Do you want ivory?”