ter number of the Dogon will be." He
grumbled sourly, "I'll roast those blokes with a half dozen bits of
magic and send them all back to Sangha. It'll be donkey's years before
they ever show face around here again." He left them.

Homer Crawford looked after him. "Good man," he said.

Abe had about caught his breath. "What gives now, man?" he said. "I
ought to get back to Jake. He's all alone up near the mosque."

"It's about time all of us got over there," Crawford said. He looked at
Isobel as they walked. "How does it feel being a sort of reverse agent
provocateur?"

Her forehead was wrinkled, characteristically. "I suppose it has to be
done, but frankly, I'm not too sure just what we are doing. Here we go
about pushing these supposed teachings of El Hassan and when we're taken
up by the people and they actually attempt to accomplish what we taught
them, we draw in on the reins."

"Man, you're right," Abe said unhappily. He looked at his chief. "What'd
you say, Homer?"

"Of course she's right," Crawford growled. "It's just premature, is all.
There's no program, no plan of action. If there was one, this thing here
in Mopti might be the spark that united all North Africa. As it is, we
have to put the damper on it until there is a definite program." He
added sourly, "I'm just wondering if the Reunited Nations is the
organization that can come up with one. And, if it isn't, where is there
one?"

The mosque loomed up before them. The square before it was jam packed
with milling Africans.

"Great guns," Isobel snorted, "there're more people here than the whole
population of Mopti. Where'd they all come from?"

"They've been filtering in from the country," Crawford said.

"Well, we'll filter 'em back," Abe promised.

* * * * *

They spotted a ruckus and could see Elmer Allen in the middle of it, his
quarterstaff flailing.

"On the double," Homer bit out, and he and Abe broke into a trot for the
point of conflict. The idea was to get this sort of thing over as
quickly as possible before it had a chance to spread.

They arrived too late. Elmer was leaning on his staff, as though needing
it for support, and explaining mildly to two men who evidently were
friends of a third who was stretched out on the ground, dead to the
world and with a nasty lump on his shaven head.

Homer came up and said to Elmer, in Songhai, "What has transpired, O
Holy One?" He made a sign of obeisance to