"This looks promising," said Royce. "We'll make a spurt, John."
Another half-hour brought them to cultivated fields. Crossing these, they found themselves faced by a mud wall, fourteen or fifteen feet high, pierced by a single gate. This was closed.
"It's a town, after all," said Royce; "not a village. So much the better, if the people are friendly. Give them a call, John."
JOHN ADDRESSES THE SENTRY
The Hausa let out his long yodelling cry. A head was seen peering over the top of the wall. John lifted both hands, and spread them, palms open, as a sign of friendliness; then began an address in the native tongue, somewhat as follows:
"Ho, you admirable watchman of a noble chief! Tell your kind and worthy lord that a stranger from the lands of the Great White King seeks to look upon his face, and have a friendly talk with him. My lord and master is a very great man, with horses and cattle in number as the grains in a cornfield, and it is a great honour that he does to your chief. Open, then, your gate, and let this great lord enter; and, as he passes, let your people fall to the ground, and throw earth upon their bodies, as befits folk who are but as worms in his sight."
Unconscious of the extravagant claims made on his behalf, Royce leant on his rifle, waiting. The head disappeared. Some minutes elapsed; then the watchman came back to his perch, and a long conversation ensued between him and the Hausa, who grew more and more excited, and raised his voice until it became almost a yell.
"What is it all about?" asked Royce, beginning to suspect that his man was growing impolite.