“Sir, he makes you many compliments.  He says that he has heard what a great man who are from his friend, Delgado, also that you and Mr. Somers are English, a nation which he adores.”

“Does he?” I exclaimed.  “I should never have thought it from his looks.  Thank him for his kind remarks and tell him that we are going to land here and march up country to shoot.”

Sammy obeyed, and the conversation went on somewhat as follows: 

“With all humility I (i.e.  Hassan) request you not to land.  This country is not a fit place for such noble gentlemen.  There is nothing to eat and no head of game has been seen for years.  The people in the interior are savages of the worst sort, whom hunger has driven to take to cannibalism.  I would not have your blood upon my head.  I beg of you, therefore, to go on in this ship to Delagoa Bay, where you will find a good hotel, or to any other place you may select.”

A.Q.:  “Might I ask you, noble sir, what is your position at Kilwa, that you consider yourself responsible for our safety?”

H.:  “Honoured English lord, I am a trader here of Portuguese nationality, but born of an Arab mother of high birth and brought up among that people.  I have gardens on the mainland, tended by my native servants who are as children to me, where I grow palms and cassava and ground nuts and plantains and many other kinds of produce.  All the tribes in this district look upon me as their chief and venerated father.”

A.Q.:  “Then, noble Hassan, you will be able to pass us through them, seeing that we are peaceful hunters who wish to harm no one.”

(A long consultation between Hassan and Delgado, during which I ordered Mavovo to bring his Zulus on deck with their guns.)

H.:  “Honoured English lord, I cannot allow you to land.”

A.Q.:  “Noble son of the Prophet, I intend to land with my friend, my followers, my donkeys and my goods early to-morrow morning.  If I can do so with your leave I shall be glad.  If not——­” and I glanced at the fierce group of hunters behind me.

H.:  “Honoured English lord, I shall be grieved to use force, but let me tell you that in my peaceful village ashore I have at least a hundred men armed with rifles, whereas here I see under twenty.”

A.Q., after reflection and a few words with Stephen Somers:  “Can you tell me, noble sir, if from your peaceful village you have yet sighted the English man-of-war, Crocodile; I mean the steamer that is engaged in watching for the dhows of wicked slavers?  A letter from her captain informed me that he would be in these waters by yesterday.  Perhaps, however, he has been delayed for a day or two.”

If I had exploded a bomb at the feet of the excellent Hassan its effect could scarcely have been more remarkable than that of this question.  He turned—­not pale, but a horrible yellow, and exclaimed: 

“English man-of-war! Crocodile!  I thought she had gone to Aden to refit and would not be back at Zanzibar for four months.”