an open space to a kind of door in the tall reed fence, passing which I
set eyes for the first time upon the famous old witch-doctor of whom so
many tales were told.

Certainly he was a curious sight in those strange surroundings, for they
were very strange, and I think their complete simplicity added to the
effect. In front of us was a kind of courtyard with a black floor made
of polished ant-heap earth and cow-dung, two-thirds of which at least
was practically roofed in by the huge over-hanging mass of rock whereof
I have spoken, its arch bending above at a height of not less than sixty
or seventy feet from the ground. Into this great, precipice-backed
cavity poured the fierce light of the setting sun, turning it and all
within it, even the large straw hut in the background, to the deep hue
of blood. Seeing the wonderful effect of the sunset in that dark and
forbidding place, it occurred to me at once that the old wizard must
have chosen this moment to receive us because of its impressiveness.

Then I forgot these scenic accessories in the sight of the man himself.
There he sat on a stool in front of his hut, quite unattended, and
wearing only a cloak of leopard skins open in front, for he was
unadorned with the usual hideous trappings of a witch-doctor, such as
snake-skins, human bones, bladders full of unholy compounds, and so
forth.

What a man he was, if indeed he could be called quite human. His
stature, though stout, was only that of a child; his head was enormous,
and from it plaited white hair fell down on to his shoulders. His eyes
were deep and sunken, his face was broad and very stern. Except for
this snow-white hair, however, he did not look ancient, for his flesh
was firm and plump, and the skin on his cheeks and neck unwrinkled,