Waylaid and Captured 
The eyes of some of them were greyish and had 
the cold, merciless gleam of the steel in their 
hands. They stared up into my face and pressed 
closer and closer to me like beasts of prey ready 
to spring upon their victim. 
“Whence do you come?” demanded the 
leader. 
“From Ejahyay,” responded I. 
As quick as a flash, they sprang forward and 
attempted to unhorse me. But I touched my 
powerful horse with the spur and he broke loose 
from them with me still in the saddle. But they 
got my broad-brimmed grey felt hat, my um¬ 
brella, my lunch satchel, and also tore my coat 
skirt to tatters. The strong leather strap of the 
satchel broke before they got me out of the sad¬ 
dle. In their ferocity they jerked it too hard. 
Their leader was evidently a Yoruban and when 
he gave me a signal to surrender, I thought it 
was an invitation to flee and escape. I wheeled 
my horse and endeavored to do so, but they 
closed up in front and after a desperate struggle 
in which I came near being shot, I was unhorsed 
and thrown to the ground with great violence. 
But their leader pressed them back with his 
drawn cimeter and thus gave me an opportunity 
to spring to my feet. In the Yoruban language, 
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