strewn with innumerable stars. Everything was silent about that town,
save that now and again a dog barked or a fretful child wailed within
a hut, or the sentries as they passed saluted each other in the name of
the king.

Among all those hundreds of huts, to Owen it seemed that his attention
was directed to one which stood apart surrounded with a fence. Now the
interior of the hut opened itself to him. It was not lighted, yet with
his spirit sense he could see its every detail: the polished floor, the
skin rugs, the beer gourds, the shields and spears, the roof-tree of red
wood, and the dried lizard hanging from the thatch, a charm to ward off
evil. In this hut, seated face to face halfway between the centre-post
and the door-hole, were two men. The darkness was deep about them, and
they whispered to each other through it; but in his dream this was no
bar to Owen's sight. He could discern their faces clearly.

One of them was that of a man of about thirty-five years of age. In
stature he was almost a giant. He wore a kaross of leopard skins, and on
his wrists and ankles were rings of ivory, the royal ornaments. His face
was fierce and powerful; his eyes, which were set far apart, rolled
so much that at times they seemed all white; and his fingers played
nervously with the handle of a spear that he carried in his right hand.
His companion was of a different stamp; a person of more than fifty
years, he was tall and spare in figure, with delicately shaped hands
and feet. His hair and little beard were tinged with grey, his face was
strikingly handsome, nervous and expressive, and his forehead both broad
and high. But more remarkable still were his eyes, which shone with a
piercing brightness, almost grey in colour, steady as the flame of a
well-trimmed lamp, and so cold that they might have been precious stones
set in the head of a statue.