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During our march that day, Kona, the headman of the Dagombas, on account of three men behind me having fallen in the fight, occupied a place immediately at my rear, and thus I was enabled to hold conversation with him. "It was a near thing, that fight last night," he exclaimed in the language that Omar had taught me. "But our arrows wrought surer execution than the Arab bullets.
The Dagombas alone comprised Omar's body-guard, and I found on my return to the palace that they had exchanged their scanty clothes of native bark-cloth for the rich bright-coloured silk uniforms of those who had acted in a similar capacity to the Naya.
Fiendish yells and shouts sounded on every side as they hacked at each other with their long curved knives, each fearing to step aside lest he should be swallowed by the sand. Once or twice, as the chill night wind parted the smoke, I saw Omar and our Dagombas struggling bravely against fearful odds.
Kona, who followed us, listened with strained ears, and our Dagombas were one and all laughing and keeping up a Babel-like chatter that showed the intense excitement caused among them by the sight of the mysterious capital of the Great White Queen.
As result of this, although we made a spirited stand, once again we were compelled to fall back in confusion, leaving many dead and dying upon the stones. Suddenly I heard Kona's well-known voice behind me uttering the fierce war yell of the Dagombas, and next instant we found to our satisfaction that a great body of his dark oily-faced warriors had come to our relief.
Their aim was so true and their bullets so deadly, that very soon fully a dozen of our brave escort had sunk wounded, disappearing in the terrible sea of sand. Suddenly a noise sounded about me like the swish of the sea, startling me for a second, but instantly I saw what had caused it. The Dagombas had let loose a flight of poisoned arrows upon our opponents.
While watching the flames leaping up consuming the wrecked remains of the royal seat of the powerful Arab ruler, a woman's scream, louder than the rest, caused me to look suddenly round at the latest victim of the Dagombas' thirst for vengeance, and I beheld in the clutches of half-a-dozen savages, a young woman, dragged as the others had been by her fair, unbound hair towards the spot where each had, in turn, been murdered.
Almost at the same moment as I sprang down I heard behind me fiendish yells and the clambering of many feet. In an instant I recognised it as the savage war cry of the Dagombas, and next second a hundred half-naked blacks, looking veritable fiends in the red glare, swept down headlong to the spot where I stood and, headed by Kona brandishing his spear, dashed straight upon the defenders.
"Look out, Kona!" cried Omar, his quick eyes discerning the man's cloak in the darkness ere I noticed his presence. Next second, however, the head-man of the Dagombas and the stranger were locked in deadly embrace, notwithstanding that the man who had approached cried aloud to us for mercy.
Then, loud fierce yells rose from the Dagombas and with one accord we struggled to our feet. Each with his hand upon the shoulder of his companion in front we moved cautiously forward, shooting now and then as we went. But the reply to our fire was now spasmodic, and we were convinced that only a few of the Arabs survived.
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