IN spite of the long ride I had just taken, my splendid beast ran like the wind as I urged him onward. In a shorter time than I had dared hope I saw before me, as I ascended a small hill, those whom I pursued, and looking through the glass I made out that two men rode ahead, two behind leading the pack camels, while the prisoners were in the middle. Putting up my revolvers and knife and taking my gun in hand, I rode down upon the band. One of the advance riders chanced to look around and discovered me, and at the same moment I saw that they were armed with long Bedouin rifles, which were only dangerous at short range. The man who had espied me drew up and signaled me to approach; we were now possibly a hundred feet apart.

"Come you rather to me," I called. and to attain my end dismounted and took a few steps toward him. The unwritten rules of desert etiquette compelled him to do likewise, and I waited till he had come quite up with me. He looked at me searchingly, then extending his hand, said: "Sallam aaleïkum! be my friend!"

"Aaleïk sallem! I will be your friend when you are mine," I replied. "You stopped at my camping-place while I was trying my camel's speed in the desert, and I have ridden after you to tell you what I desire, and then to grant your wish."

He stared at me in amazement, then he said: "We have not been at any camp."

"Ah, but I know that you have! It was at the hidden spring, which we had uncovered for our refreshment. When I returned my servants had gone, and in their place was the grave of a stranger."

"Did you open it?" he demanded hastily.

"I was forced to open it to learn whether the dead man might perchance be one of my people. When I had seen his face I mounted my fleet camel and followed your trail, to tell you, as I have said, what I desire, and to grant you the wish of your heart."

"What is your desire?" asked the man.

"Give me back my servants."

His face did not change by so much as the quiver of an eyelash as he asked: "And what is the wish you will then grant me?"

"Then I will let you go your way unhindered."

"And if I do not do what you desire?"

"Then will I prevent you from carrying out your design."

"You are a madman! You are alone, and we are four, yet you speak as though you had a hundred men at your back. If you knew who we were you would crawl in the dust before us!"

"I will prove to you that I am equal to a hundred. If you resist me we will see who is mad and who is sane."

"You dare to threaten me?" he began to say, reaching for his pistol, but I had my revolver ready, and, pointing it at him, I thundered: "Hands off! If you move one of the weapons in your girdle you are a dead man!"

Withdrawing his hand, he said: "You fool! I have but to call my men, and you are lost."

"Try it!" I replied. "The first word you speak loud enough to be heard twenty feet from here will bring a bullet through your heart." "

That is downright treachery," said my friend, but in a lower voice.

"How do you make that out?"

"I came to you because you dismounted, and I could do no less than follow your example; that is the custom of the desert. We should be free to part as we came; neither has the right to detain the other, but you outrage this ancient law."

"Who dares say so? I spoke to you civilly, nor offered violence, but you threatened me, and when you talk of calling your men to attack me it is you who outrage the law of the desert, and I must protect myself."

"Then let me depart."

"First, I wish to speak with you."

"I will not listen." "

Then depart."

"And you will not shoot me when my back is turned toward you?"

"No, for I am a Christian, and not a murdering sneak. But I tell you that I will have my servants; you shall not leave this place till they are in my hands."

"At the first attempt at rescue we will kill you; do what you please."

"And you!" I retorted as he moved away. "But if you will not do as I desire peaceably your blood shall be upon your own head."

The man went back to his little band, and a chorus of scornful laughter arose as he spoke with them; evidently they held my threats for empty words.

I had no desire to shed their blood, though it would have been justifiable could I not have rescued the lieutenant and Ben Nil by other means. At best the camels must be sacrificed; but I could easily spare our own beasts, for the prisoners were bound on them, and Selim's was led by the halter.

The little band began to move, shaking their fists at me over their shoulders and laughing derisively. They were moving in the same order as before; the leader with whom I had spoken in advance. I aimed at his camel. A puff of smoke, and the animal fell dead, shot through the heart; a second shot brought down the camel of the rear rider. Loud cries and a volley of curses reached me, but as they were not dangerous I fired twice again, and stretched out the other two camels. There were left now but our own beasts and one belonging to the enemy, who had conceived respect for my accuracy of aim. "Don't move, or I'll shoot!" I shouted. Realizing that my little revolver was not to be trifled with, they obeyed.

"Throw away your guns; he who holds his shall be shot!" I cried.

This order too, was fulfilled, and the four men crawled crestfallen out from under the dead bodies of their camels. The living beasts, mad with fright, had rushed out of sight, bearing Ben Nil and the lieutenant further into the desert.

"Now," I said, coming up. "I hope I have taught you to respect both the courage and the mercy of a Christian. I might have killed you, but I have spared you and taken only the lives of your camels; even they have not been allowed to suffer. Nay, stay; this poor creature still lives; I will end his misery -- thus."

So saying, I held my revolver to the head of a camel that was moving feebly and put him out of pain. "You shall

give up your weapons," I continued, "lest you may do further harm with them. Hold up your hands while I disarm you -- quick!"

In sullen silence they obeyed me, all but their leader. Grinding his teeth, he snarled: "Now, by the Prophet, this is too much!" and reached for his knife.

I saw the movement and sent a bullet through his hand. "Hands off!" I said. With a muttered curse he obeyed me, and with my left hand I stripped him of his weapons. "Now we are ready to say farewell," I remarked. "The task is well done. Go your ways, as I will go mine, for I have rescued them whom I came to seek. When next you meet a Christian do not molest his servants, nor treat him with disrespect. Farewell."

I went over to where I had left my good camel kneeling, waiting me patiently, though his quick breathing and distended nostrils showed the fear he felt at the sight of his slain brethren. Mounting, I rode away towards the left, where the frightened camels that bore my comrades had disappeared, and the last I saw of my vanquished foes they were standing where I had conquered them, staring after me motionless, in silent hate. We were destined to meet again.

The trail led directly into the desert, though not far into it. After five minutes' riding I saw the captives in the distance, with the two pack camels lying close to theirs. When the lieutenant and Ben Nil saw me coming their joy was great. The former called to me as soon as he could make himself heard: "Allah be praised, at last you come! We have suffered more in the moments which have passed since you first appeared on the scene than in all the rest of the time since we were captured. We didn't know whether you had been victorious or had been killed, or

whether we should be found, or were doomed to perish miserably, bound on our camels here in the desert."

"You see that I am the victor," I said, dismounting and going over to cut the bonds which held the camels together, as well as those by which my comrades were tied on their backs. "We will return to the battle-field, for I hope to find booty left by these scamps in the packs of the dead camels."

We did return forthwith, nor was I disappointed in my expectations. The packs held nothing that we cared for, but they did hold a great deal that the "Asaker" would find useful, and we loaded it on our camels, to be divided among the soldiers when we came up with them.

We sat down to wait for Selim, and I listened to the lieutenant's account of the arrival of the unexpected enemy at the spring and their capture, which had come about much as I thought.

"And now I know what and who they are," I said when the story was finished. "Their knowledge of the hidden spring betrays them. They are the slave-dealers whom we are seeking."

"Impossible, Effendi!" cried the lieutenant. "They had no slaves with them, and we know that the caravan we are seeking has a great number of female slaves."

"These five men were but the vanguard; they were a sort of quartermasters, looking after the water and whatever was required for the caravan's well-being."

"If that were so we made a great mistake in letting them escape. You should have held them and questioned them; what a help that would have been to us!"

"Help? I don't think so. If I had questioned them they would not have told me the truth, and it is better to have no information than to have false information. As it is,

we will follow them, and I will creep up to them when they are encamped for the night, listen to what they say, and, if I am not mistaken, find out all that we want to know."

"But, Effendi, they must be deaf and blind not to discover you," cried Ben Nil.

"I'll see to that. I know how to creep up and spy upon people, yet remain invisible and inaudible myself. And we can start after our acquaintances in a few moments, for I see some one coming, who can be no other than our heroic Selim."

Sure enough, on the western edge of the horizon appeared a white point, which steadily drew nearer, and we saw that it was a foot traveler, running so fast that his white burnoose streamed behind him like a banner in the wind. It was Selim, and when he came up with us he was almost maudlin in his joy at having lived through his unseen dangers and found us once more.

We immediately set forth. Our foes had taken a northeasterly direction, and, that they might not suspect us of following them, we rode more easterly, being sure that we could strike across after it was dark and overtake them. It was the hour of the "Asr," the afternoon prayer, when we came to the spot where our old "Onbaschi" waited us with his "Asaker." We told them our adventures and divided up the booty, of which I retained only a map, a fact which won for me still greater loyalty from the "Asaker," of whom I had already no reason to complain on that score.

We rested for a little while, and an hour after "Asr" set forth once more. Knowing that the slave-dealers' camp must be near Bir Murat, because there was no other place near at hand where there was water, we went directly there. A little after sundown we came to a deep ravine; which

suited our purpose so perfectly that I ordered a halt here for the night. We made our men and beasts as comfortable as circumstances allowed, and I sat down to wait for utter darkness, in which to carry out my plan of spying upon the enemy's camp, a plan from which the lieutenant vainly tried to dissuade me. My faithful Ben Nil begged me to take him with me, but I refused, not only because I would not take him into danger needlessly, but because the enterprise would be a much greater risk to me than if I were alone. Darkness closed in around us, and when it could grow no deeper I set out. I crept out through the ravine and over the sand, keeping close under the shadow of the rocks wherever this was possible, and soon I saw the light of a campfire glimmering ahead of me. I went toward it; a tent had been pitched, and a watcher was patrolling outside. Watching my chance when this guard had passed around to the other side, I slipped behind the tent, and just as I did so I heard a voice call out: "Heda, guard! where is your leader?"

I had heard that voice before, but where?

As I was considering this the flap of the tent was lifted. I could see that a figure approached it. Some one within cried: "Abd Asl! All things are possible to Allah, but who could have dreamed of seeing you here?" and as the light fell on his face I saw that it was the "holy fakir" who enticed me and Selim to our probable death in the tomb outside Siout, and from which I had rescued Ben Nil none too soon! It nearly gave me convulsions to keep myself from leaping out and settling with the old wretch then and there, but I had to set my teeth and keep still, which I did with bad grace.

"El Ukkazi!" replied the old humbug. "I have come to seek you to warn you of a man who has joined the Reis

Effendina to injure your and my son's business. He is a Christian from a land far beyond in the West, and he is to try to capture the slave-dealers."

"I know of him," replied the other. "He is somewhere about this accursed business now, and he has with him a lieutenant of the Reis, and a follower of his own, called Ben Nil."

"Ben Nil, Ben Nil!" shrieked the fakir. "I knew one by that name, but he is dead."

"Yes, I know; you trapped him in a tomb, and you thought he had starved to death, hut this unbeliever set him free and has him with him now."

"That -- is -- not -- possible!" stammered the fakir.

"It is absolutely true. Hark; some one comes!"

I, too, heard steps; once more the tent door was raised and I saw the leader of the four men whom I had encountered in the desert.

"Welcome, Malef," cried El Ukkazi. "Tell us what hath befallen thee."

Abd Asl, the father of our commander?" exclaimed Malef. "Allah shed grace and happiness before thy feet. Much has befallen me, El Ukkazi; sit down with me and I will tell thee all." With these words my friend sat himself between the other two and told them, not without many angry interruptions, the story of his adventures and misadventures.

"And so the dog is already upon us!" exclaimed El Ukkazi when he had finished. "Abd Asl, what is it you advice that we do?"

"I know not yet your business, nor your destination," replied the fakir.

"We are in charge of a caravan of slave-women of the Fessarah, whom your renowned son Ibn Asl has captured.

He is the greatest of slave-dealers, worthy to call you father."

"The greatest," assented the fakir laconically. "How long were you to remain here, and whither were you to go hence?"

"We were to leave here in the dawn, going southward first, and then toward the northeast in the direction of Wadi el Berd, where we were to join Ibn Asl; we should get there by to-morrow night. There is water there, but hidden from those who do not know the place. There were three gaziah trees growing there, and years ago one of our men, seeing them, concluded there was a spring near by, which he sought and found. The trees still stand, though in our many visits to the place our camels have gnawed off their bark, and they are dry and dead. We have covered the spring with a rock, so that a stranger would never discover it."

"It is my advice that you carry out your plan and go your way early, for this accursed giaour may discover your whereabouts if you delay," said Abd Asl.

"And we will act upon it, O father of the father of slave dealing," responded the leader of the band. I had heard enough, all and more than I needed to know, and the last words had been of the utmost importance, giving me an exact description of the place where this section of the slave-dealers was to join their leader. Carefully, and as slowly as I had approached, I began my retreat to my own camp.

I found my comrades waiting my return in sleepless anxiety. I told them all that I had heard, and ordered an immediate start for Wadi el Berd; it was of the utmost importance that we should be on the ground first, and the "Onbaschi" felt confident that he could take us by a sure

and a quicker route than the usual one followed by caravans.

We traveled all night, and early in the forenoon we espied the three dead gaziah trees which marked the spring. So truly had El Ukkazi boasted of their skill in concealing the spring that we could not find it, even with his description of the place, and had to turn to the camels for help. They were not long in deciding the exact spot where the water lay, and after we had dug away the sand we came to the stone that covered it, and disclosed the spring in the place the wise beasts had indicated.

The next step was to find a place in which our company could be hidden, and I found it in the ravine, made, apparently, by the bed of a stream long dry. Then we posted watchers on the height and waited.

It may have been ten o'clock when the "Onbaschi," who was on guard, summoned me to his side. The moon had risen, and by its light we saw a moving line of shadow across the white sands; it was the caravan! Nearer it came and nearer. Presently we heard something like the twittering of swallows, broken by heavier notes, and knew it was the voices of the women captives and the drivers of the camels. At last the caravan came into the valley, and turned directly toward the spring. I saw from my hiding place the white burnooses of the drivers and the light coverings of the invisible women, and I heard the deep voice of the leader of the caravan say: "Halt! Thanks be to Allah and the Prophet, for we have come safely to the waters of refreshment."

Contents

Introduction