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"Scarsmere," repeated the man from the unknown region. "Scarsmere. And is he your friend?" "Yea, my best friend." "If thou art actually Omar then his friend will assuredly find welcome in Mo," the man said with courtesy. "But answer the questions I put to thee. Canst thou tell me anything regarding myself?" "Well, I think I can," answered my friend with a laugh.
True, they have been abstracted in a manner almost miraculous for ingenuity and rapidity, but from this moment I will not rest until they are recovered. And you, Scarsmere, as Keeper of the Treasure-house, shall assist me." "I am ready," I answered, excited at the prospect of this new task before us. "We will spare no effort to seek the thief and recover the Treasure of the Sanoms.
"These men of the Dagomba, Kona, their head man, and Scarsmere, my friend from the land of the white men, have given me aid, and if thou accordest them no welcome, then I, Omar, in the name of my ancestors, the Nabas and the Nayas, will give them greeting, and provide them with befitting entertainment while they are within our walls." His words caused instant consternation.
"Therefore act always with caution, and take heed never to be entrapped by her paid assassins." "Don't fear, Scarsmere," he laughed. "I'm safe enough, and I do not anticipate that anybody will try and take my life. If they do they'll find I can shoot straighter than they imagined." "But they might shoot first," I suggested with a smile. "I don't intend to give them a chance," he replied.
I owe everything to thee, and to the stout heart of our companion Scarsmere." "No, old fellow," I protested. "It is your own dogged courage that has pulled us through so far, not mine. Up to the present all has gone well with us except the deplorable loss of some of our dark companions, therefore let us retain our light hearts and meet all obstacles with smiles."
Strange, too, that I, Richard Scarsmere, who, when at school hated geography as bitterly as I did algebraic problems, should even now, while just out of my teens, be thus enabled to write down this record of a perilous journey through a land known only by name to geographers, a vast region wherein no stranger had ever before set foot.
"Why speak so despondently?" I inquired, surprised. "As Naba of Mo all things are possible." "Alas! not everything," he said, with an air of melancholy. "Well, tell me," I urged. "Why are you so downcast?" "I I have lost Liola," he answered hoarsely. "Truth to tell, Scarsmere, I loved Goliba's daughter." "She is absolutely beautiful," I admitted.
Then, having first mumbled something over his amulets, he quickly stirred the heap of sand with his finger, saying: "As these grains of sand cannot be divided, so cannot the bonds of friendship uniting Omar, Prince of Mo, with Scarsmere and Kouaga, be rent asunder. Omar has spoken."
Since I, your Naba, left Mo by the Way of the Thousand Steps, and entered the land of the white men, Scarsmere hath been my friend and companion, therefore all shall treat him with due respect, for although he cometh from the wonderful land afar he shall be Governor of this our city and Keeper of our Treasure-house.
She is a ruler above all rulers; before her armed men monarchs bow the knee, at her frown nations tremble. In order to bring the palaver she would make with her son I have journeyed for three moons by land and sea to reach him and deliver the royal staff in secret. I have done my duty. It is for Omar to obey. Kouaga has spoken." "Let me briefly explain, Scarsmere," my friend interrupted.
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