The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1892-10-12

szzzzzzzSlKNT~ another and SpOk
together in low
tones.
II is the invincible Ei-Malel1, chieftair
of fierce mountain tribe, who venerat,
him as saint
Since he lost his eldest son, two year.
ago, El-Malek speaks but little aud ne.
yer smiles. His beard has become al
most white, but his arm has lost nothing
of its power; he handles his deadly lance
as il it were reed, and when he urges
his faithful horse Yessuf across the desert
terror follows as his shadow. YuSsuf,
like all the horses of the South, has a
strong back, slender legs, and large
hoofs; like the five favorite mares of the
prophet, he is descended from Solomon's
famous stables; his coat is snow white,
and his long, flowing tail is soft as silk
Yussuf understands and obeys his mas.
ter's lightest wish.
Erect in his saddle, El-Malek follows
with keen glance among the motley
crowd man IN gold embroidered bur-
moose, who has just come to Mirouan.
The tradesmen, also, point at this man
with their finger, but with scornful
air, as though indicating one stricken
with the plague.
This man is Hsssan Bey, the insolent
chief of the Ouled -Nayls, who, iealou,
Of his brother Ahmed, killed him with
arrows shot from afar; be boasts OF this
deed, and laughs when he sees the crowd
move away from him.
He had built upon the D'jelefa
plateau, in the centre of his tented
village, stone house, which was also a
fortress. For many years he had passed
his nights watching the Arab girls dance
to the sounds of the derboukas; but, one
evening, passing near the fountain, he
had stopped to look at the young girls
filling their copper urns. And now he
has come to Mirouan to buy bridal
ornaments, for Hassan Bey, chief of the
Ouled d-Nayls, is to marry the beautiful
Zuleika.
Zuleika is only weaver's daughter
but she is very beautiful. The poor
child wept, but she wept in vain, for the
weaver is a miser, and the chief of the
Ouled. Nayls is not the man to allow
himself to be thwarted in his wishes.
She must marry Hassan Bey, the fratri.
eide.
Who would prevent it, since God per-
mits itR
El-Malek had heard this story only an
hour before he reached Mirouan, and he
had said to HIMSELF "God will not per-
NIT it, for will prevent it,"
Irla haA
ledge of the fountain, but had not
thought of filling it. Her companions,
one after the other, had gone away, but
she still remained. 1t was the last time
that she would come to the fountain, for
tomorrow Hassan Bey would carry her
away to his battlemented house, which
was sombre as a tomb.
She lifted up her little bronzed hands
to heaven imploring that death might be
sent to her. But from the leaden sky no
consolation came. Instead, Hassan Bey
appeared, riding upon his flame colored
horse, and escorted by his warriors. He
knew that she was at the fountain, aud
wished to see her there where he had
met her for the first time. She was
compelled to hear his lying words. The
young girl turned her eyes away, aud,
as she began TO Gil her urn, her tears
mingled with the water.
"Zuleikal"
Who calls9 Certainly Hassan Bey
cannot have disguised his voice with
such grave and manly tone. Who is
this man, with the white beard, sitting
erect in his saddle, lance in hand, look
ing at her so compassionately?
"Zuleikaw he called once more,
pointing to Hassan Bey, who was ap-
preaching.
She looked up, and suddenly her eyes
flashed with new light, for she felt
that this man had been sent by God.
"Saye mel" she cried; "save mel"
El-Malek held out his hand and aided
the young girl to mount before him.
Gently holding her frail form, he muI-
INJURED: "Do not be afraid" Then, as
though calling upon a brother, El-Malek
said: "Yussuf" The noble animal
neighed, and started of like the wind.
After Yussuf rushed Hassan Boy, with
furious clamor, followed by his warriors.
Some of them made as if to draw their
bows. "No" cried Hassan Dey, "du
not shoot. l want them both alivel"
Urged on by gentle caresses, Ynssuf
flew faster and yet more fast. With
loud yells Hassan Bey spurred his horse
on, riding ahead of his escort. "They
shall not escape mel" he cries, trembling
with rage and anxiety.
"CouIage, Yussuf," murmurs Ell
Malek; ''you are called the wind of the
desert. Show that you deserve your
name, my beauty"
The day advances, the sky seems to
be on fire, but Hussuf does not falter.
SudCcated, at frs. by this furious flight,