Mahmoud had not found the slave-dealing king in quite so good a temper
on this journey. The reason was not far to seek. A brother potentate,
who dwelt just beyond a range of mountains to the east of him, had by
some means or other possessed himself of two white slaves--Greeks they
were, and had been brought from very far north. This king was his
greatest enemy--near neighbours though they were--and many and deadly
were the combats that used to rage among the hills. In fact, their two
imperial highnesses lived in a state of continual warfare. Sentinels of
both parties were placed day and night on the highest mountains, to spy
out the actions of the opposite kingdoms. It was no unusual thing for
these sentinels to get to lighting on their own account, and when they
did they never failed to chew each other up, though not quite so much so
as the Kilkenny cats, of which, as you know, nothing was left but two
little morsels of fluff, one tooth and one toe-nail--but very nearly as
bad as that. The rival kings did not care a bit; they looked upon the
affair as a natural _denouement_, and set more sentinels, while the
vultures gobbled up whatsoever remained of the last.
But this rival king beyond the hills owned those white slaves, and the
king, who loved rum, was very jealous and greatly incensed in
consequence. Thrice he had made war upon him with a view of possessing
himself of the coveted Greeks, and thrice had he been hurled back with
infinite slaughter.
Then Mahmoud had come to him, and the king stated his case while he
drank some rum, and Mahmoud promised that next time he returned he would
bring him one or more white slaves, that would far outshine those
possessed by the king beyond the hills, whose name, by the way, was King
Kara-Kara.
But behold Mahmoud had returned, and no white slave with him! Harry, as
we know, having escaped.
No wonder, then, that King 'Ngaloo had raged and stormed. This he did
despite the fact that the Somalis were called to witness that it was no
fault of Mahmoud's, and that their prisoner had really and truly
escaped. King 'Ngaloo had serious thoughts of ordering the priest
Mahmoud to instant execution, but was so mollified at the sight of the
other gifts brought him that he forgave him.
These gifts were many and varied. Rum came first, then beads, blue,
crimson, white and black, and of various sizes, then jack-knives and
daggers, white-iron whistles, a drum of large dimensions, a concertina,
and a pair of brass lacquered tongs. These last two gifts were the best
fun of all, for King 'Ngaloo, squatting in the middle of his tent floor
with his wives all round him or near him, would sip rum and play the
concertina time about. His playing was peculiar. After he had finished
about half a bottle of the fire-water he began to feel his heart warm
enough to have some fun, on which he would jump up and with his brass
tongs seize one of his wives by the nose, drawing her round and round
the tent, she screaming with pain, he with laughter, till one would have
thought all bedlam was let loose.
Yes, the king was pacified, and Mahmoud was allowed to depart, with an
addition to his caravan of one hundred poor victims who were to be
dragged away into slavery.
He went away much sooner than he had intended had he been successful in
getting more slaves. And besides, the truth is, Mahmoud was a little
afraid that the king might take it into his head to pull him round the
tent with the tongs, and Mahmoud had a profound respect for his nose.