Donaldson spoke in Arabic, not knowing the Tamaheq tongue. "Aselamu, Aleikum, El Hassan. I come to obey your wishes."
A sigh had gone through the Tuareg. "Aiiiii." Wallahi, even the djinn obeyed El Hassan!
With dignity, Homer Crawford said, "Keif halak, all in my house is yours."
Rex Donaldson inclined his small bent body again, in respect.
Crawford said in English, "Let's not carry this too far. Come on into the tent."
Ignoring the Tuareg, who still gaped but held their distance, the four English-speaking Negroes headed for the larger of the two tents that had been set up for El Hassan.
As they passed Guémama who stood slightly aside from the other Tuareg with his uncle Melchizedek, the Amenokal, Crawford nodded and said, speaking to them both. "A messenger from my people to the south. Continue with your newly arrived warriors, O Guémama."
Cliff Jackson had picked up the folded heliohopper and was now carrying it easily.
Guémama looked at the device and blinked.
Crawford refrained from laughing at his commander of irregulars. "It is not a kambu device. My people deal not in magic. It is but one of the many of the things the new ways bring. One day, Guémama," Homer's face remained expressionless, "perhaps you will fly thus."