The bushman's keen ears warned him, and he sprang to his feet, bow and arrow in hand, the arrow fixed in the notch and the bow bending as he sprang.

The man he let drive at dodged the arrow, and before he could shoot another his enemies were upon him.

He was rolled over and over and dragged to his feet, disarmed and helpless.
"Why, he's an ancient Babylonian!" Joan cried, regarding him.

"He's an Assyrian, a Phoenician! Look at that straight nose, that narrow face, those high cheek-bones--and that slanting, oval forehead, and the beard, and the eyes, too." "And the snaky locks," Sheldon laughed.
The bushman was in mortal fear, led by all his training to expect nothing less than death; yet he did not cower away from them.

Instead, he returned their looks with lean self-sufficiency, and finally centred his gaze upon Joan, the first white woman he had ever seen.
"My word, bush fella _kai-kai_ along that fella boy," Binu Charley remarked.
So stolid was his manner of utterance that Joan turned carelessly to see what had attracted his attention, and found herself face to face with Gogoomy.