Shadrach had declared it was necessary to do, in order that the Abati
watchmen on the distant mountains might see and report the signal,
although in the light of subsequent events I am by no means certain that
this warning was not meant for other eyes as well. Then, as arranged, we
started out, leaving them burning in a great sheet of flame behind
us, and all that night marched by the shine of the stars along some
broken-down and undoubtedly ancient road.

At the first sign of dawn we left this road and camped amid the
overgrown ruins of a deserted town that had been built almost beneath
the precipitous cliffs of Mur, fortunately without having met any one or
being challenged. I took the first watch, while the others turned in to
sleep after we had all breakfasted off cold meats, for here we dared not
light a fire. As the sun grew high, dispelling the mists, I saw that we
were entering upon a thickly-populated country which was no stranger to
civilization of a sort. Below us, not more than fifteen or sixteen miles
away, and clearly visible through my field-glasses, lay the great town
of Harmac, which, during my previous visit to this land, I had never
seen, as I passed it in the night.

It was a city of the West Central African type, with open market-places
and wide streets, containing thousands of white, flat-roofed houses, the
most important of which were surrounded by gardens. Round it ran a high
and thick wall, built, apparently, of sun-burnt brick, and in front of
the gateways, of which I could see two, stood square towers whence these
might be protected. All about this city the flat and fertile land was
under cultivation, for the season being that of early spring, already
the maize and other crops showed green upon the ground.

Beyond this belt of plough-lands, with the aid of the field-glasses, I