WE had rowed up the river in this leisurely fashion for some six miles when we espied a landing place, called in that country a "mischrah," and, partly from curiosity and partly because it looked inviting, we rowed over to it and went ashore.

We found it in such excellent condition and so unmistakably in frequent use that I could not but wonder whether it had any connection with the slave-ships and caravans we were trying to track down. Great stakes driven into the ground closed the further end of the "mischrah." It looked decidedly like the entrance to a seribah, which is not only the headquarters of a slave-trader, but a depot for the reception of the wretched captives until they can be shipped to market.

"We can't get through there, Effendi," said Ben Nil.

"I have no idea of going into the seribah, if that is what this is," I replied, stooping as I spoke to examine the stakes. There was not a living thing in sight, although the moonlight was brilliant enough to have revealed a mouse.

As I bent forward to look at the lower part of the stakes Ben Nil uttered a shriek of horror. I started to rise, but a tremendous blow fell on my head, and I knew no more. When I regained consciousness I was bound hand and foot with ropes and lay in a pit beside Ben Nil, who was bound in the same manner.

As he saw me open my eyes he exclaimed:

"Allah be praised! I feared you were dead, Effendi."

My head was in agony, my eyes saw strange things dancing before them, and my ears buzzed like a swarm of bees; but I was not dead, as I assured him.

"Were you stunned, too ?" I asked.

"No."

"Then tell me what has happened, and why are we here in what I take for a pit in a seribah?"

"Alas! that is precisely what it is. Just as you said that you had no idea of going into the seribah, I looked up and saw a man standing over you with an oar raised to strike you, and four or five other stout fellows were coming up. I shouted to warn you, but too late; the blow fell, and you dropped without a sound. I fought with all my might, but it was no use, and we were both bound and brought here."

"The Reis Effendina will find us," I said.

"I hope so. I managed to kick our boat adrift, trusting he would find it. But suppose they kill us at once?"

"That is not impossible. We have escaped our enemies so often that they may prefer making sure of us. I wonder whose hands we are in this time? Hush! Some one is coming."

We heard steps, and the matting that served as a door was raised. Several men entered, led by Murad Nassyr and his sergeant, which is the nearest English equivalent to the office filled by the stout Turk's adjutant.

Murad Nassyr came up to me, stroked his beard contentedly and said: "Are you actually here? I trust you will make us a longer visit this time, or do you hope to disappear so mysteriously again?"

I made no reply and he turned to the sergeant, saying:

"This is the Christian dog of whom we have told you. He must die."

"I have no objection," replied the man; "but let us wait till daylight, so that we can see them suffer. We are out of

meat and must go fishing while it is moonlight and they bite best. These dogs are safe in this kennel. Would it not be well to start at once?"

"You are right; we will take two boats, for we need a big haul. Each boat can carry five men, and two will be enough to leave in the seribah."

"I don't agree with you," objected the sergeant. "There should be more here on guard. How do you know that these two came alone? The Reis Effendina's ship may be near."

"I will ask them, and woe to them if they answer falsely." Then turning to me, Murad Nassyr drew his knife and said: "Each time that you do not reply to my questions will cost you a finger. I am not joking. See! my knife is ready. Did you come here alone?"

"Ben Nil was my only companion," I said.

"Where is the Reis Effendina?"

I hesitated, as though reluctant to answer, and he bent over me, seized my left thumb, placed the edge of the knife against it, and said threateningly:

"Answer, or I cut! Where is he?"

"He is at Bahr el Oschebel looking for you," I said, reflecting that, though this was a lie, he might soon be undeceived.

"Why are you not with him?"

"He sent me to see if I could discover Ibn Asl's whereabouts."

"Good! I thought I could make you speak. One more question: How did you escape from me before?"

"Here goes for a fairy tale," I thought, for it would not have done to have betrayed his sister, and said aloud:

"I had two knives with me and you found only one. The other had fallen from my pocket where I could pick it up and cut my fastenings. Then we climbed down the anchor chain into the boat which lay astern."

"So that was the way?" nodded Murad Nassyr, well satisfied. "We will do better this time."

We were thoroughly searched and then our captors departed for their fishing.

All was still. The starlight shone down on us, but, except for companions in the pit, which were far from consoling ones, we thought that we had been left entirely alone. Indeed, no guard was necessary, for even had we been unbound there was no way of getting up from the pit, the ladder by which Murad Nassyr and the rest had descended having been drawn up after them.

It was not long, however, before we heard a voice demanding:

"Where are you, you curs? Have you sworn brotherhood with the scorpions and the rats?"

We did not answer. But another voice from the entrance of the seribah called out something in return. We knew, for Murad Nassyr had imprudently said so, that ten men were gone fishing; one was sitting by our prison and another was guarding the water gate. In a few moments our guard spoke again.

"Who comes there?" he asked.

We heard a voice reply, but we could not understand what was said.

"Who are you? I do not know you!", cried the guard. "Halt! or I'll -- oh, Allah! Allah!"

The last cry ended in a gasp. We heard a brief struggle and then a voice called: "Effendi, are you down there?"

"Yes," I replied. "Who are you ?"

"I am the pilot, Abu en Nil, for whom you obtained mercy from the Reis Effendina when he seized the slave-ship which I was piloting. I have sought the service of the Reis, and he has sent me with one of his men to look for you and my grandson. Is he with you?"

"Yes. Don't waste a moment, but lower the ladder and come down and free us," I cried.

He obeyed, and, sobbing with joy at seeing Ben Nil and me once more, freed us from our bonds, and we mounted the ladder, rejoicing and puzzled at this unexpected meeting.

"You must wonder how I discovered you," said the old man. "I saw your boat overturned in the reeds not far from the 'mischrah' and I made my way --"

"Yes," I interrupted, "but don't stop to explain now. We are not safe yet."

We got the guard, who had been stunned by a blow from the "Asaker" who accompanied Abu en Nil, down the ladder to take our place in the pit, and we went off to find the arms, if any were about, which we so sorely needed. We not only discovered our own, which had been taken from us, but those of the men who were peacefully fishing, ignorant of the sudden turn of the tables.

We stationed ourselves behind trees at the entrance of the "mischrah" to wait their return. We were four to ten, but we were armed with guns, while they had but their knives, and could only enter two at a time, and stooping at that so carefully had they placed the stakes which made the seribah inaccessible.

We saw in the moonlight that the fish were biting briskly, and it was not long before the boat that held Murad Nassyr turned to come inshore.

As she glided into the entrance of the "mischrah" the Turk stepped first over her bow. I was ready for him. As he stooped to pass between the stakes I sprang on him, surprising him so completely that he was overpowered almost without resistance. While Ben Nil brought the ropes to bind him his grandfather and the "Asaker" covered the other four with their guns, and when Murad Nassyr was made fast we served his followers impartially in like manner, and

had them all stowed away in the pit before the second boat came in.

There was no trouble in handling the second lot as we had the first; indeed, they had heard such accounts of my deeds of daring that the sight of me, combined with the loss of their master, unnerved them completely.

"Mercy, Effendi, mercy!" wailed Murad Nassyr as I brought the last of his followers into the pit, he having by this time regained his senses.

"Dare not to speak of mercy," I said. "You would have shown me none. A life for a life and blood for blood! You shall be treated as you would have treated me."

"But I would have pardoned you!"

"Pardoned! What had you to pardon? You have returned my goodness to you with evil and shall be repaid in kind. To-morrow's sun rises on your last day."

"Don't say that. You are a Christian," he wailed.

"A dog of a Christian, so you called me. You can't expect pity from a dog! Dogs fight their foes and rend and tear the weaker. You appeal to my religion for your own ends; but you insult it when you have me in your power. Your hour has come!"

"Effendi, think of my sister! What will become of her if I am dead?"

"She will be better off than if you lived, for I cannot imagine a worse fate than you designed for her, to be Ibn Asl's wife and slave. Be silent; I am going now to find her before the emir comes, who will save me the trouble of hanging you."

I walked away, leaving him to the pleasures of imagination, while I visited his sister. But first I sent Abu en Nil down the river to meet the emir and bring him to me. The other two guarded the prisoners.

I entered the apartments which Murad :Nassyr had set

apart for his sister and her servants, although Mohammedan law forbids a man's presence in such apartments. It seemed to me the double excuse of my being an unbeliever and the stress circumstances warranted the intrusion. Kumra -- whose Turkish name means in English "turtle dove" -- seemed to think so too, for she not only received me without protest, but unveiled. She had heard of what was going forward and was greatly excited. She really was beautiful, and I marveled that the rotund Murad Nassyr should have so fair a sister, as I had before wondered that he should have one so kind-hearted.

"What have you done with my brother?" she demanded, ignoring all ceremony or salutation.

"I have captured him, bound him and put him in the pit, where he will sleep securely the rest of the night," I said.

"My brother in the oschura ed oschaza? Such a man as he! Such a renowned and mighty lord!" she cried in dismay.

"Am I an ordinary man?" I asked, feeling that I must assert myself.

"No, Effendi; were you but a true believer, you would seem to me a greater man than even my brother."

"Yet he threw me into that pit! If it was fit for me, it is surely fit for him. I have obeyed the law of God and man, which he has transgressed."

"Is slave-dealing really a crime?"

"There can be none greater."

"I did not know that. I thought the white race had a right to capture and sell the Negroes. Can my brother be punished?"

"He not only can be, but must be."

"Allah, Allah! Not with death? I know you are a friend of the Reis Effendina. Is that dreadful man here also? Tell me the truth --does he kill slave-dealers?"

"He comes in the morning. It is true that he punishes that crime with death."

"You must save my brother, Effendi! Do you hear; you must save him. I have saved you." She rose, lifting her hands to me imploringly.

"Yes, you saved me from imprisonment and death," I said gently. "I am not ungrateful. I came here to tell you that I would do my best for your brother."

"Then all will be well," she sighed, as satisfied as if Murad Nassyr himself was with her. "I know you can save him, and now I will make you coffee."

"Thank you, beautiful Kumra. Make a great pot full, please. My two comrades would be grateful for your goodness, and your favorite Fatma can take the coffee to them."

She cheerfully set about her task, and I took my departure, wondering. What a true Oriental! Not for long could her native indolence of mind be shaken, and, on the mere assurance of my attempting to save her brother, she dismissed all anxiety and brewed her coffee with tranquil mind.

I lay smoking my pipe when the Reis Effendina arrived in the early morning.

"Ha!" he shouted as he approached. "There sits the conqueror of the world, smoking the pipe of victory. Imprisonment does not seem to harm you."

"It was so brief," I answered, holding out my hand to help him land and saluting him at the same time.

"So I have learned from Abu en Nil; but I want the story from you. Come, sit down by me and tell me what you have done."

I obeyed him, and, when I had ended, told him of my promise to Kumra to beg her brother's life. "I am sure," I said, "that this plump Turk will readily promise to forsake his evil ways. Nature never intended him for a villain; he

has not the brains nor courage. I ask you, emir, pardon him for the sake of his sister's goodness to me, under the condition that he swears to have no more dealings of any sort with Ibn Asl and gives us all the information he possesses as to his whereabouts and movements."

The Reis Effendina shook his head. "I can hardly refuse you the means of paying such a debt, but I am reluctant to let even the most insignificant of this gang escape. I will give this Turk into your hands, however. Get this vow from him and let him go, if you must."

I lost no time in acting upon this permission. When Murad Nassyr came up out of the pit on my summoning him his face was ghastly, and it seemed as if great folds had been made in his fat cheeks during the night.

"Murad Nassyr," I began, "you deserve no mercy at my hands but for your sister's sake I will spare you. The emir has given me full power over you. If you will solemnly swear to renounce Ibn Asl and all slave-dealing forevermore I will set you free."

"Is that all you ask -- nothing harder than that?" cried the abject creature, falling on his knees from gratitude and weakness. "I will gladly do that. I have long seen that this man was my evil genius and regretted bitterly the peaceful days and honest life in Kahireh from which he lured me."

"And you must give us all the information that you possess which will lead to his capture," I reminded him.

"I have sworn never to reveal what I know of him," stammered Murad Nassyr.

"It is a sin to keep such an oath. What is he, one man and a villain, beside the countless souls he is enslaving and murdering?"

"I will obey you. I see that I have done wrong. I am sorry, and I will return to Kahireh and resume my business there."

"Swear, then, to renounce Ibn Asl, to tell us truthfully all you know of him, and that you will forsake slave-dealing, in any form, forever."

He rose tremblingly, raised his hands to heaven and said: "I swear it by Allah, by the Prophet and the beard of the Prophet, and by the salvation of my ancestors and all my descendants. Never will I deal in slaves nor with slave traders again. And may heaven bless you, Effendi, that you have spared me who have so grievously wronged you," he added, turning to me and lifting the hem of my robe to his lips with a gratitude that was unmistakably sincere.

"Come to the Reis Effendina; you must fulfil your promise and give him your information as to Ibn Asl's where abouts." He followed me without a word, though I could see that he was trembling at what he was about to do as well as at facing the emir.

The Reis Effendina scowled at him as we approached. "Your pardon is this Effendi's doing, not my will," he said. "I have decided to take you with us to assure myself of your fidelity. We must leave the ship behind, as we are to proceed by land, so I will send your sister with her attendants back by 'Esch Schadin.' You will now tell me all you know about Ibn Asl."

Murad Nassyr obeyed. At first he spoke so low that we could hardly understand him. But at last, plucking up a little courage, he gave us information which proved to be of the utmost importance.

Just as he was ending we saw a queer procession approaching. First came Kumra, veiled, and bearing a steaming water pot in her hands. Behind her was Fatma, carrying ground coffee; then two other servants, with cups and spoons, and lastly black girls, with pipes and tobacco. I almost laughed aloud, but the emir frowned forbiddingly and said:

"What are you doing here? Your place is in the harem, not in the councils of men."

But the procession kept on and stopped before him.

"Our place is indeed here, O most high lawgiver," said Kumra. "We bring you refreshment after your journey, coffee, fresh and warm, and tobacco, a marvel of fragrance, precious as the odors of paradise. Drink, smoke and give my brother his freedom, for which I will bless you and shed upon you --"

She got no further; her little arms had been too heavily burdened, her tender hands were burned with the hot metal. The steaming pot swayed from side to side, her body bent to balance it, but too late! As she spoke the catastrophe came. The great water-pot toppled over, emptying all its boiling contents into the Reis Effendina's lap! I thought she would have fainted from fright; not at all! Instead she gathered the pot into her short arms and said:

"Patience, O emir, and I will boil more water!"

There was no hope of regaining the former solemnity of tone nor severity of manner toward the brother of this lovely but phlegmatic being. The Reis took my arm, and we went to breakfast, Murad Nassyr joining us. His little sister, true to her promise, brought us more coffee, which this time we used internally and found it better than an external application.

Contents

Introduction