It was the humor of Calaman, sitting on his white mule, to play the part of host with all the courtesy of an Arab chief. Incidentally, it may be remarked that he was just about as sincere as the average Bedouin is under such circumstances.
“Welcome to Shangore!” he cried, as they passed under the heavy portcullis.
He led them straight to his own palace, and showed them their quarters, which were in a spacious wing separate from the remainder of the building. The white men and Jai Singh were bestowed here, in well-furnished rooms.
The four coolies were put in another part of the palace, at a considerable distance.
Servants waited on Nick and his friends with the punctilious politeness of the East. Better than anything else, they all enjoyed the comfort of a bath, for the first time for
