CHAPTER V.
The howls became a roar, blind passion was changed into purposeful fury.
Who were these white men to march so boldly into the presence of the King without even the formality of sending an envoy ahead?
For the King of Bekwando, drunk or sober, was a stickler for etiquette.

It pleased him to keep white men waiting.

For days sometimes a visitor was kept waiting his pleasure, not altogether certain either as to his ultimate fate, for there were ugly stories as to those who had journeyed to Bekwando and never been seen or heard of since.

Those were the sort of visitors with whom his ebon Majesty loved to dally until they became pale with fright or furious with anger and impatience; but men like this white captain, who had brought him no presents, who came in overwhelming force and demanded a passage through his country as a matter of right were his special detestation.

On his arrival he had simply marched into the place at the head of his columns of Hausas without ceremony, almost as a master, into the very presence of the King.