A "Lost Race" tale, set in Africa.
now that during two years our friendship has been firmly established I trust nothing will ever occur to interrupt it."
"I take no heed of your enemies, Omar," I said. "You have proved yourself genuine, and the question of colour, race, or creed has nothing to do with it."
"Perhaps creed has," he exclaimed rather sadly. "But I make no pretence of being what I am not. Your religion interests me, although, as you know, I have never been taught the belief you have. My gods are in the air, in the trees, in the sky. I believe what I have been taught; I pray in silence and the great god Zomara hears me even though I am separated from my race by yonder great ocean. Yet I sometimes think I cannot act as you white people do, that, after all, what my enemies say is true. I am still what you term a savage, although wearing the clothes of your civilization."
"Though a man be a pagan he may still be a friend," I said.
"Yes, I am at least your friend," he said. "My only regret is that your uncle
A long, meandering tale in which...nothing happens. Save yourself the time and don't even start reading this one. It's a total waste of time.