Meanwhile the boats had gathered together at a distance, and
we could see that the occupants, who were evidently much frightened,
were consulting what to do. Without giving them time for further
consideration, which we thought might result unfavourably to
ourselves, we instantly took our paddles and advanced towards
them, Good standing in the bow and taking off his cocked hat
politely in every direction, his amiable features suffused by
a bland but intelligent smile. Most of the craft retreated as
we advanced, but a few held their ground, while the big row-boat
came on to meet us. Presently we were alongside, and I could
see that our appearance -- and especially Good's and Umslopogaas's
-- filled the venerable-looking commander with astonishment,
not unmixed with awe. He was dressed after the same fashion
as the man we first met, except that his shirt was not made of
brown cloth, but of pure white linen hemmed with purple. The
kilt, however, was identical, and so were the thick rings of
gold around the arm and beneath the left knee. The rowers wore
only a kilt, their bodies being naked to the waist. Good took
off his hat to the old gentleman with an extra flourish, and
inquired after his health in the purest English, to which he
replied by laying the first two fingers of his right hand horizontally
across his lips and holding them there for a moment, which we
took as his method of salutation.
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