First there was shrill delight from Ayisha and a chorus of approval from her four men at the prospect of changing to reasonably decent mounts.

Then a tumult of indignation from the wool-merchant's crowd--blunt refusal by them to consent to any change at all--threats--abuse--arguments--the roaring of camels who object on principle to everything, whatever it is, even to a chance to rest, because it hurts their backs to stand still loaded and over it all presently Grim's voice issuing orders in a tone he had when things go wrong.
Strange that they don't choose leaders more often for their voices! It's the most obvious thing in the world that a man with a silver tongue, as they call it, can swing and sway any crowd.
If that man knows his own mind and has a plan worth spending effort on he can trumpet cohesion out of tumult and win against men with twenty times his brains.

I don't doubt Peter the Hermit had a voice like a bellbuoy in a tide-rip.

Grim pitched his above the babel so that every word fell sharp, clear, and manly.

They began to obey him there and then.
But he could not attend to everything at once, and while he oversaw the changing of pack-saddles, and gave orders to the policemen to ride back on the camels behind Rafiki's men and see them safely into the city, that black-faced fellow on the Bishareen edged away, and in a moment was off at full gallop headed southwards.