But I could distinguish nothing more, and in a few moments the two men hurriedly snapped fingers, and the mysterious stranger disappeared noiselessly into the dark silent bush. When the loud blasts from the ivory-horn, with its hideous ornamentation of human teeth, proclaimed the advent of another day I took Omar aside and told him of what I had witnessed and overheard. After I had described the stranger he said: "I know not who he may be. It is evident, however, we are travelling in the opposite direction to Mo, therefore we will go no further. I will command Kouaga to return to Tomboura, cross the river, and press forward over the hills of Dabagakha to the Black Volta." "And if he refuses?" "Then we will go alone." An hour later, when we had eaten our plantains and the usual babel was proceeding which was always precursory of a start being made, my companion strode up to Kouaga with a look of fierce determination upon his face, saying: "Give ear to my words. I am Omar, son of the Naya, the Great White Queen, before whose wrath all nations tremble." "Speak. I listen," answered the giant negro, with a look of surprise upon his ugly countenance. "I will go no further along this path. You, the head-man and the carriers shall return with me to the bank of the Comoe, otherwise my mother shall punish you for disobeying my orders. All who dare go forward from this moment shall be sacrificed at the yam feast and the dogs shall eat their entrails. These are my words." "Then whither would you go from Tomboura?" asked Kouaga, apparently astonished at Omar's sudden decision. "I will only approach Mo by the Great Salt Road." "It is impossible. There is fighting in the hills, for the Karaboro and the Dagari are at war." "And what matters, pray, since they are both our allies?" Omar asked. For a moment the negro was nonplussed, but with a broad grin showing his even row of teeth, he said: "The bird goes not into the serpent's lair, neither does the son of the Queen enter the country of her enemies." "I have already given tongue to my decision," my friend replied. "Advance, and each of your heads shall fall beneath the keen _doka_ of Gankoma, the executioner." Kouaga, hearing these words, set his teeth fiercely, and glancing at us with his fiery eyes, the whites of which were bloodshot, retorted: "Recede, and we will carry you forward, bound as a slave." "This is a threat!" cried Omar, drawing himself up to his full height and stretching forth his arm. "You, whom my mother raised from a palace-slave, thus threaten me! Let it be thus, but I warn you that if you ever set foot across the borders of Mo, your head shall be set upon the palace wall as a warning to disobedient slaves." Then, turning to me, and waving back the crowd of carriers who had collected and stood open-mouthed around us, he said, "Come, Scars, we will return. I have thrice traversed the path from Tomboura to the Great Salt Road, and can follow it without a guide."