One should never show fear before savages. Duncan knew this, and walking boldly up to the huge travelling throne he saluted him in an off-hand way, and addressed him in English.
His majesty only shook his hideous head, but pointed with his spear towards his army.
Every one sprang up and stood erect, but silent as the grave.
"C'rambo!" said the king.
And C'rambo advanced smiling.
Very different was this tall, lithe, and supple-looking savage to any about him. His skin was yellow instead of black. His smile was a forbidding, sarcastic leer, and although our heroes knew nothing of African savages, any coasting sailor could have told them this man was a Somali.
In his right hand he carried three ugly spears, one of which was attached by a cord to his wrist, while on his left forearm was a small round shield--such as are worn by the tribes on the eastern coast north of the line.
This fellow first salaamed to the chief, addressing him in a harsh and guttural jangle of words. Then he turned haughtily towards our heroes.
"Who am you, and whe' you comes from?"
"First and foremost," replied Duncan, quite as haughtily, "who are you? Whose country are we in, and how far from the coast are we?"