As we neared them some handled their spears and some their matchlocks, and I thought that the critical moment had come when we should have to fight for our lives.
"Halt," said Rivers to our party. "Form double line," and the twelve of us drew ourselves up.
"Now, professor, you speak Arabic, don't you? Try them with a little soft sawder first, will you. We don't want to fight unless we're obliged. There isn't much to be gained by it."
The professor immediately stepped three paces in front, and calling out, "Salaam, Aleikum," addressed a sentence in Arabic to the group.
The only answer to this was a wild yell and a chatter of gibberish.
"What was it you said?" asked Rivers.
"We are friends, and want to see the chief," answered the professor. "But I can't understand a word of their talk. I fancy these people of the Seger region have a distinct dialect of their own."
"Try 'em in English," said Thompson. "Where's your chief, you silly beggars, you?"
The only response to this was another wild yell and another shower of gibberish, accompanied by a flourish of the spears.