Not an hour later they came over the brow of a hill in that populous landscape and saw a man coming up towards them. Mr Shaw went forward and hailed him. The man stood and examined the castaways with careful astute eyes. His hair was black and long and straight and his skin was the colour of weathered oak. He wore a loincloth of antelope hide and he carried his few possessions in a bag formed from the skin of a small ape.
Goedendag, he said.
Goedendag, he said.
