They rolled off: they rose up, one behind the other the
length of the street, and the fear on their faces was as leaves
whitening to a breeze. The Hajji stood in the gate guarding his
skirts from defilement. The Hajji said: 'I am here once again.
Give me six and yoke up.' They zealously then pushed to us with
poles six, and yoked them with a heavy tree. The Hajji then said:
"Fetch fire from the morning hearth, and come to windward.' The
wind is strong on those headlands at sunrise, so when each had
emptied his crock of fire in front of that which was before him,
the broadside of the town roared into flame, and all went. The
Hajji then said: 'At the end of a time there will come here the
white man ye once chased for sport. He will demand labour to
plant such and such stuff. Ye are that labour, and your spawn
after you.' They said, lifting their heads a very little from the
edge of the ashes: ' We are that labour, and our spawn after us.'
The Hajji said: 'What is also my name?' They said: 'Thy name is
also The Merciful' The Hajji said: 'Praise then my mercy'; and
while they did this, the Hajji walked away, I following.
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