"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.
At this instant a noise was heard from the hut in the rear of the rows of natives drawn up in front, and the line opened in the middle, when a tall grey-bearded Arab, with a long camel-hair burnoose over his shoulders, and a polished wooden spear in his hand, stepped forward a few paces.
The professor immediately addressed him with the ordinary Eastern salutation, of which the chief took but little notice, making a remark which the professor understood to mean that our presence was not welcome. Unwilling to leave matters in this unsatisfactory position, the professor harangued the chief in Arabic, uttering the most friendly sentiments, and expressing a desire to purchase dates or any commodities that his highness the sheik might have to dispose of.
