“How if we take you, O Macumazana?”

“How if I kill you both, O Harut and Marut?  Fools, here are many brave men at my command, and if you or any with you want fighting it shall be given you in plenty.  Hans, bid the Mazitu stand to their arms and summon Igeza and Bena.”

“Stay, Lord,” said Harut, “and put down that weapon,” for once more I had produced the pistol.  “We would not begin our fellowship by shedding blood, though we are safer from you than you think.  Your companions shall accompany you to the land of the Kendah, but let them know that they do so at their own risk.  Learn that it is revealed to us that if they go in there some of them will pass out again as spirits but not as men.”

“Do you mean that you will murder them?”

“No.  We mean that yonder are some stronger than us or any men, who will take their lives in sacrifice.  Not yours, Macumazana, for that, it is decreed, is safe, but those of two of the others, which two we do not know.”

“Indeed, Harut and Marut, and how am I to be sure that any of us are safe, or that you do not but trick us to your country, there to kill us with treachery and steal our goods?”

“Because we swear it by the oath that may not be broken; we swear it by the Heavenly Child,” both of them exclaimed solemnly, speaking with one voice and bowing till their foreheads almost touched the ground.

I shrugged my shoulders and laughed a little.

“You do not believe us,” went on Harut, “who have not heard what happens to those who break this oath.  Come now and see something.  Within five paces of your hut is a tall ant-heap upon which doubtless you have been accustomed to stand and overlook the desert.” (This was true, but how did they guess it, I wondered.) “Go climb that ant-heap once more.”

Perhaps it was rash, but my curiosity led me to accept this invitation.  Out I went, followed by Hans with a loaded double-barrelled rifle, and scrambled up the ant-heap which, as it was twenty feet high and there were no trees just here, commanded a very fine view of the desert beyond.

“Look to the north,” said Harut from its foot.

I looked, and there in the bright moonlight five or six hundred yards away, ranged rank by rank upon a slope of sand and along the crest of the ridge beyond, I saw quite two hundred kneeling camels, and by each camel a tall, white-robed figure who held in his hand a long lance to the shaft of which, not far beneath the blade, was attached a little flag.  For a while I stared to make sure that I was not the victim of an illusion or a mirage.  Then when I had satisfied myself that these were indeed men and camels I descended from the ant-heap.

“You will admit, Macumazana,” said Harut politely, “that if we had meant you any ill, with such a force it would have been easy for us to take a sleeping camp at night.  But these men come here to be your escort, not to kill or enslave you or yours.  And, Macumazana, we have sworn to you the oath that may not be broken.  Now we go to our people.  In the morning, after you have eaten, we will return again unarmed and alone.”