Отрывок из книги
Charles Beadle
Published by Good Press, 2020
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As the purple shadows elongated, came a procession from the hill, led by the tall chief, Basafingu. Advancing to within three feet of the while man, he squatted down. His followers plated before him two elephant tusks of great weight and good condition. According to the etiquette of a great chief the little doctor pretended not to notice their presence. For some minutes he continued to smoke his cigar, interested in the swelling of the sun as it sank within the humid atmosphere above the trees.
As silently and abstractedly sat Basafingu and his ebon retainers. From another green tent, the replica of the doctor's, emerged Ali in the green turban and a green gown and, stalking with much dignity, sank upon a stool beside the doctor without as much as a twitch of the eyelid to acknowledge the presence of the young chief. In impressed silence the audience of warriors and boys and children watched the statuesque poses of the actors. At last Ali gravely permitted his eyes to rest upon Basafingu and, turning very slowly, observed quietly:
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