own mouth condemns thee!" the Governor cried. "No man
lawfully entitled to his land would wait one hour before entering upon
it. Stand aside!" The man, fell back, and the village jeered him.

The second claimant stooped quickly beneath the lifted hunting-crop. The
village rejoiced.

"Oh, Such an one; Son of such an one," said the Governor, prompted by
the Sheikh, "learn, from the day when I send the order, to block up all
the holes where Abu Hussein may hide on--thy--land!"

The light flicks ended. The man stood up triumphant. By that accolade
had the Supreme Government acknowledged his title before all men.

While the village praised the perspicacity of the Governor, a naked,
pock-marked child strode forward to the earth, and stood on one leg,
unconcerned as a young stork.

"Hal" he said, hands behind his back. "This should be blocked up with
bundles of dhurra stalks--or, better, bundles of thorns."

"Better thorns," said the Governor. "Thick ends innermost."

The child nodded gravely and squatted on the sand.

"An evil day for thee, Abu Hussein," he shrilled into the mouth of the
earth. "A day of obstacles to thy flagitious returns in the morning."

"Who is it?" the Governor asked the Sheikh. "It thinks."

"Farag the Fatherless. His people were slain in the days of the
Oppression. The man to whom Our Excellency has awarded the land is, as
it were, his maternal uncle."

"Will it come with me and feed the big dogs?" said the Governor.

The other peering children drew back. "Run!" they cried. "Our Excellency
will feed Farag to the big dogs."

"I will come," said Farag. "And I will never go." He threw his arm round
Royal's neck, and the wise beast licked his face.

"Binjamin, by Jove!" the Inspector cried.

"No!" said the Governor. "I believe he has the makings of a James Pigg!"

Farag waved his hand to his uncle, and led Royal on to the barge. The
rest of the pack followed.

* * * * *

Gihon, that had seen many sports, learned to know the Hunt barge well.
He met her rounding his bends on grey December dawns to music wild and
lamentable as the almost forgotten throb of Dervish drums, when, high
above Royal's tenor bell, sharper even than lying Beagle-boy's falsetto
break, Farag chanted deathless war against Abu Hussein and all his seed.
At sunrise the river would shoulder her carefully into her place, and
listen to the rush and scutter of the pack fleeing up the gang-plank,
a