The Indianapolis journal., 1902-04-27

spite of the blessed saint and his formal
notice. a worse bit Of country can nowhere
be found on all the dreary outskirts of
Sahara.
All day long We journeyed through the
waterless plain. and at night we halted by
a desert well and prepared to bivouac un-
der the stars OF heaven. Our first task was
TO set up a tent for the chief Of the cara
van. with a pavilion alongside for the
Arabian slave girl whom he was solemnly
! escorting to the home of her new master.
a few of us were told off by the Sheikh to
do this honorable piece of work. among
whom / happened TO be included on the
recommendation Of the owner Of the cam
els.
Here you he cried to me with a rap of
his stick, what do you call yourself,
stranger from Algeria?"
"Abdulah- Observation-Disclosures, a NJ Mzabite
of Algiers.'' l answered gliby, as 1 fell into
the order he pointed with MS finger.
ooh, a Mzabiter" the man replied with
dark scowI well look out. abdunah, that
you take great care of the slave of the
Governor. Keep your eyes shut TO what you
needn't know, and don't go prying into
high matters that don't concern you
As he spoke-was it fancy?-I somehow
imagined that the slave girl, now seated on
the ground on bundle of rugs. glanced
over at me once more with strange and
frightened yet inquiring look, half curl
osity. half appealing terror.
One can judge so little from the eyes
alone. They need the aid of the other fea-
lures to exc out their meaning. With d
veiled woman you can guess nothing. Per-
han + oil
only Arabian slave girl.
We pitched the tent, and then prepared
our own quarters on the dreary desert. In
a few minutes more the baskets of dates
and of Arab bread were brought out and
| opened by the noisy crowd; the camels
were watered. from the we'll by the way
SIDE; the buzz of voices resounded through
the camp: and, forgetting all else but the
business of the moment 1 turned in silence
| to eat my own frugal supper of cheese and
konskons.
AS the night went on, they called me
once more-suspiciously, / fancied-into the
chiefs tent. The Sheikh himself. loling
back upon his square of Tlemcen carpet
on the bare ground. interrogated me at
some length upon my name and origin. "a
| NJ zabite,' he said, with curious look
| "Oho, Mzabite, Abdullah h ben-Abderr-
| haman, you light for that The Benz
| NJ zab are mostly much darker than you
| Son of the children of the broad oasis. let
me see your arm. / don't like the look of
a NJ zabite as light and as fairhaired as
the dogs of infidels. Especially on the road
| to Keronan."
Il lifted my robe and showed him my
arm. 1t was brown like my face. for 1 am
a dark Cornishman. He nodded and let me
go. 1T is WE'LL" he muttered 1.-The man is
| indeed one of the children of Mzab. Stay
here in my tent, though, 1 may want you
| tonight. These are days when it BELTS
all true Moslems to guard themselves care
fully from the wiles of the infdel."
/ retired to the corner and lay down.
| somewhat nervoUsy, where he pointed me
out place on the coarse blankets. My
heart began to 1utter little with the ex-
citement of danger. What small observ-
ance could L have overlooked, L wondered,
that had reused the suspicion of the cara
van and its leader against me? Had
failed in prayer, in washing, or in gesture?
| Did they guess already L was not really a
follower of the Prophet?
AS l lay and looked, | saw with perfect
certainty this time that the eyes of the
slave girl were still riveted in earnest en-
| treaty upon me. She followed my move
ments with deep attention; nay, more
even fancied once that she tried to speak
| to me with her parted lips alone through
/ the folds of her yaskmak. But if so, failed
| TO make out the words. And all Arab wom-
en- are such born intriguers.
Some minutes later the gong al the door
of the tent sounded. 1t was the signal for
| prayer. L rose at once and knocking my
| head thrice against the ground in the di-
rection of Mecca, Frustrated myself in the
fashion prescribed by Mohammedan ritual
| for the customary litany OF the third hour.
L don't know whether it was nervousness
or accident. or fate but in the furry of the
moment, in spite of all my careful rehear-
sal, l made one fatal mistake of detail,
| which the chief of the caravan would sure
| ly have noticed had he not been too alb
sorbed at the moment it occurred in his
own devotions. L glanced around me anx-
] iously to see if 1 was detected. No, not by
| the Sheikh; he. 1 felt sure had failed to
perceive it. But sharper eyes than his were
fixed close upon me still. a sudden start,
and glance that seemed not so much like
horror as surprise. showed me at once be-
girl had noted in a second my fatal omis-
sion.
Would she cry out aloud TO her leader
and keeper: This man is not Mussulman
at ALL" and destroy me? l turned and
trembled. 1t was an anxious moment. But
the slave girl never moved one muscle vis-
IDLY. L know not how. L vaguely felt
through veil and yaskmak that some
strange passion was sweeping through her
| soul at that terrible moment. 1 dropped my
eyes and mechanically continued my gab-
| bling prayer. When 1 looked up again she
| had drawn the veil inscrutably over her
head once more. and sat mute a statue
| in the corner opposite.
stop there and watch," the Sheikh mur-
INJURED suTenly. looking over at me again,
as he finished his prayer: and he sat down
himself in solemn silence on his dirty rug
| ~ -