The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1909-04-15
|ZALA| |.
By THE, COUNTESS OF
CROMARTIE. l.

They had met on long Phoenician
slaveship. lie was a swarthy young
Scythian with a thin, keen face, an
aquilne nose and black hawks eyes.
She was a little fair Greek, with dark
fringed blue eyes, and a pretty soft
way of smiling that she still had even
now, in the midst of fear and haunting
memories of a happy home. The fact
of their both being highly born may
have drawn them together For Gala,
the Scythian, was princes son, and
had known happy life, till one day,
after hunting, he awoke from a heavy
sleep among the sand dunes to find
the kidnapers' ropes about his neck
and ankles. He had fought like young
tiger, but it had been no use, and
now-his slim highbred beauty and his
courage and strength would doubtless
fetch high price. Just now he spent
most of his time in chains for he still
had fits of violence. Lying on the
deck one sunset, his black curly head
against the mast, his eyes gazing sui
lenly at nothingness, he caught sight
of the girl Zoe. One of the other
slave women, a foul-tongued young
fury, was hooking her for a soft
hearted little fool that did not know
what fate had in store for her. Zala
knew well why the other girls hated
Zoe. The Phoencian trader spared
her few of the hardships that would
fall to the ordinary slaves share. be-
cause he knew well enough if he did
not he might lose what promised to be
the best of his female merchandise.
For the little Greeks steady bravery
and endurance covered a frailty of
body and nerves that Zala, born horse.
man as he was, recognized at once.
"A touch of the whip and she'll die"
he thought, as he watched the girl face
the woman's gibas. The cool bravery
of her race was in her eyes. but the
lovely, slender lines of her little figure
were drawn tense, and the pulse in the
white throat beat like a hammer, and
as the woman tainted on roughly, tell
ing OF Tara's slave market, and other
things, Zoe seemed to be bracing her
self against physical blows, as she
leaned against the side of the pitch
/, ing galley Gala rose with a growl,
to stagger against the mast, for he had
forgotten that his ankles were roped.
The woman shrank away, for she got
as good as she gave from the Scyth-
ian's sharp tongue. In that day men
often knew many languages. Zala
had been a fighter and, young as he
| was, had been in many strange camps,
| so he was able to speak to Zoe, who,
as soon as her enemy had departed,
collapsed into a frightened, trembling
| child. From that hour they were
| friends. She would bring him her share
Of food and drink, for Gala, being re-
bellious, was often half-starved. Some.
| times he would eat wolfshly, for he
was no saint to deny himself. But
| then he would look at the sweet deli
cate face, and demand half angrily,
Hast thou eaten?' and she would lie
to him and say, Yes, Gala, yes"
1t was on one of these occasions that
he caught her TO him tiercely and put
his lips to hers. 1t was enough to him
| that she returned his kisses before he
felt the slave merchants whip across
his shoulders. That also was enough
for his passionate nature, and fierce
unsubdued pride. He gripped the girl
to him tigerishly, and she chung to
him though she was bruised and hurt
in his savage embrace. They tore hel
away from him at last and Zala was
tied up and thrashed, then flung un
der the deck to mediate upon his
sins, faint and sick, but absolutely un
subdued. Two nights afterward there
was a heavy storm, the slaves were
driven below, and discipline was some
what relaxed by imminent danger.