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Farag's uncle was not to be turned. "He says," Farag interpreted, "that he desires, nothing better than that you should live on your lands in peace. He talks as though he believed himself to be Governor." "Well. We here are all witnesses to what he has said. Now go forward with the sport." Farag's uncle smoothed his garments. "How diversely hath Allah made His creatures!
"By Allah," he thundered, "if the afflicted of God come to any harm at your hands, I myself will shoot every hound and every puppy, and the Hunt shall ride no more. On your heads be it. Go in peace, and tell the others." "The Hunt shall ride no more," said Farag's uncle. "Then how can the land be governed?
"He may not have the Evil Eye," Farag's uncle grunted, "but his devil led him too certainly to question my land-title. Ask him whether he still doubts my land-title?" "Or mine, or mine?" cried the elders. "What odds? He is an afflicted of God," Farag called. "Remember the tale I told you." "Yes, but he is an Englishman, and doubtless of influence, or Our Excellency would not entertain him.
O sheikhs and men, have we ridden together and walked puppies together, and bought and sold barley for the horses that after these years we should run riot on the scent of a madman an afflicted of God?" "But the Hunt pays us to kill mad jackals," said Farag's uncle. "And he who questions my titles to my land " "Aahh! 'Ware riot!" The Governor's hunting-crop cracked like a three-pounder.
To cast doubt on the ownership of land means, in Ethiopia, the letting in of waters, and the getting out of troops. "Your titles are good," said the Governor. The Inspector confirmed with a nod. "Then what is the meaning of these writings which came from down the river where the Judges are?" Farag's uncle waved his copy. "By whose order are we ordered to slay you, O Excellency Our Governor?"
In each man's hand was a copy of the pamphlet; in each man's eye terror and uneasiness of the sort that Governors spend and are spent to clear away. Farag's uncle, now Sheikh of the village, spoke: "It is written in this book, Excellency, that the beatings whereby we hold our lands are all valueless.
"Your titles are in my hands they are good," said the Governor. "And he who wrote the writings is an afflicted of God?" said Farag's uncle. "The Inspector hath said it," cried the Governor. "Ye will see when the man comes.
"Ask him," said Farag's uncle, "what he knows about our land-titles. Ye young men are all alike." He waved a pamphlet. Mr. Groombride smiled to see how the seed sown in London had borne fruit by Gihon. Lo! All the seniors held copies of the pamphlet. "He knows less than a buffalo.
Melik-meid the Second strained her shoulder leaping my water-channel," a sheikh cried. "Melik-meid the First was lamed by the thorns on the day when Our Excellency fell thrice." "True true. The second Melik-meid's mate was Malvolio, the pied hound," said the Inspector. "I had two of the second Melik-meid's pups," said Farag's uncle. "They died of the madness in their ninth month."
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