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The morning appointed for departure Soor Hadji Palloo came to my hut and presented his bill, with all the gravity of innocence, for supplying the pagazis with twenty-five doti each as their hire to Unyanyembe, begging immediate payment in money.
Small craft from the ports of Yemen, anxious to have an opportunity of purchasing before vessels from the gulf could arrive, hastened across, followed about a fortnight to three weeks later by their larger brethren from Muscat, Soor, and Ras el Khyma, and the valuably freighted Bagalas from Bahrein, Bussorah, and Graen.
Webb that he would procure from Tarya Topan the introductory letter so long delayed. It was the last card in my hand. On the third day the Arab returned, bringing with him not only the letter to Soor Hadji Palloo, but an abundance of good things from the ever-hospitable house of Mr. Webb.
The bales and the beads were duly carried to Soor Hadji Palloo's house, and the day passed with me in mentally congratulating myself upon my good fortune, in complimenting the young Hindi's talents for business, the greatness and influence of Tarya Topan, and the goodness of Mr. Webb in thus hastening my departure from Bagamoyo.
Twelve of their best men were victims of his well-wielded battle-axe, and of the twelve were the Norse barons Ogmund Kraekidantz, Thorlang Bosi, Paul Soor, Andrew Nicholson, and King Hakon's own nephew, Hakon of Steini, all of them most gallant and brave warriors. But not less enraged were the Scots on their side at the death of Sir Piers, whose body now became the centre point of battle.
I tell yer that man 'ad no 'eart for men or 'orses. An' you tork ababt bein' reel reg'mental, Mac! . . . 'e wos a reg'mental old soor if yer like! . . . Fit to drop we wos wot wos left o' us, an' th' bloody sun goin' down an' all. But no! 'e give us no rest burial fatigue right away. Free big trenches we buried aour pore fellers in I can see 'em now. . . ."
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