Round and behind there were a number of silent councillors.

At some signal or on reaching a given spot, all the soldiers, including old Babemba, fell upon their hands and knees and began to crawl.

They wanted us to do the same, but here I drew the line, feeling that if once we crawled we must always crawl.
So at my word we advanced upright, but with slow steps, in the midst of all this wriggling humanity and at length found ourselves in the august presence of Bausi, "the Beautiful Black One," King of the Mazitu..