Presently, turning to Bo Muzem, he asked, "Did your partners offer you a share of the money they received for the slaves?"

"Yes," answered the merchant, "but I would not accept it."

"Have you, or your partners, received from the man who claims three of the slaves, twelve horses and thirty dollars?"

After some hesitation, Bo Muzem answered in the negative.

"The slaves belong to the Moor, Rais Mourad, who has paid the money for them," said the governor, "and they shall not be taken from him here.

Depart from my presence, all of you."

All retired; and, as they did so, the grazier was heard to mutter some words about there being no justice for poor Arabs in Morocco.

Rais Mourad gave orders to his followers to prepare for the road; and just as they were ready to start, he requested Bo Muzem to accompany him outside the walls of the city.

The merchant consented, on condition that his friend Mahommed the grazier should go along with him. A peculiar smile overspread the features of Rais Mourad as he granted this request.

The Arab grazier, anxious to have another opportunity of wrangling over his claim, accompanied his deluded companion outside the city gates.

"My good friend," said Rais Mourad, patronisingly speaking to Bo Muzem, "you have been deceived. Had you taken these Christians to Swearah, as you promised to do, you would have been paid for them all that you could reasonably have asked. I live in Swearah, and was obliged to make a long journey to the south upon urgent business. Fortunately, on my return, I met with your partners, and bought their slaves from them.

The profit I shall make on them will more than repay me all the expenses of my journey. The man Mahommed, whom you call your friend, has bought two other Christians. He has sold them to the English consul. Having made two hundred piastres by that transaction, he was anxious to trade you out of these others, and make a few hundred more. He was deceiving you for the purpose of obtaining your property at a cheap rate. There is but one G.o.d, Mahomet is his Prophet, and you, Bo Muzem, are a fool!"

Bo Muzem required no further evidence in confirmation of the truth of this statement. He could not doubt that the Moor was an intelligent man, who knew what he was about when buying the slaves. The grazier had certainly purchased the two slaves spoken of; had acknowledged having carried them to Swearah, and was now anxious to obtain the other three.

All was now clear to Bo Muzem; and for a moment he stood mute and motionless under a sense of shame at his own stupidity.

This feeling was succeeded by one of wild rage against the man who had so craftily outwitted him.

Drawing his scimitar, he rushed towards the grazier; who, having been attentive to all that had been said, was not wholly unprepared for the attack.

The Arabs generally never acquire much skill in the use of the scimitar; and an affair between them with this weapon is soon decided.

The combat between the merchant and his antagonist was not an exception to other affrays of the kind. It was a desperate struggle for life or death, witnessed by the white slaves, who felt no sympathy for either of the combatants.

A Mussulman in a quarrel generally places more dependence on the justice of his cause than on his strength or skill; and when such is not the case, much of his natural prowess is lost to him.

Confident in the rect.i.tude of his indignation, Bo Muzem, with his Mahommedan ideas of fatalism, was certain that the hour had not yet arrived for him to die; nor was he mistaken.

His impetuous onset could not be resisted by a man unfortified with the belief that he had acted justly; and Mahommed the grazier was soon struck to the ground, and left rolling in the dust in the agonies of death.

"There's one less av 'em, anyhow!" exclaimed Sailor Bill, as he saw Jim's master cease to exist. "I wish he had brought brother Jim and Master Terence here afore he died. I wonder what he has done wi' 'em?"

"We should learn, if possible," answered Harry, "and before we get any farther away from them. Suppose we speak to the Moor about them? He may be able to get possession of them for us."

At Harry's request, the Krooman proceeded to make the desired communication; but was prevented by Rias Mourad, who peremptorily ordered the slaves into their places, for the purpose of continuing the journey which the tragic incident had interrupted.

After cautioning Bo Muzem to beware of the followers of Mahommed, who now lay dead at his feet, the Moor, placing himself at the head of his kafila, moved off in the direction of Mogador.

CHAPTER EIGHTY ONE.

THE JEWS' LEAP.

The road followed by Rais Mourad on the day after leaving Santa Cruz was through a country of very uneven surface.

Part of the time the kafila would be traversing a narrow valley by the seash.o.r.e, and in the next hour following a zigzag path up the side of some precipitous mountain.

In such places the animals would have to proceed in single file, while the Moor kept constantly cautioning his slaves against falling from the backs of their horses.

While stopping for an hour at noon for the animals to be rested, the Krooman turned over a flat stone, and underneath it discovered a large scorpion.

After making a hole in the sand about six inches deep, and five or six in diameter, he "chucked" the reptile into it.

He then went in search of a few more scorpions to keep the prisoner company. Under nearly every stone turned over, one or more of these reptiles were found; all of which the Krooman cast into the hole where he had placed the first.

When he had secured about a dozen within the walls of a prison from which they could not escape, he began teasing them with a stick.

Enraged at this treatment, the reptiles commenced a mortal combat among themselves, a spectacle which was witnessed by the white slaves with about the same interest as that between the two Arabs in the morning.

In other words, they did not care who got the worst of it.

A battle between two scorpions would commence with much active skirmishing on both sides, each seeking to fasten its claws on the other.

Whenever one of the reptiles succeeded in getting a fair grip, its adversary would exhibit every disposition to surrender, apparently begging for its life. But all to no purpose, as no quarter would be given.

The champion would inflict the fatal sting; and the unfortunate individual receiving it would expire upon the instant.

After all the scorpions had been killed, except one, the Krooman himself finished the survivor with a blow of his stick.

When rebuked by Harry, for what the young Englishman regarded as an act of wanton cruelty, he answered that "it was the duty of every man to kill scorpions."

In the afternoon the kafila reached a place called the Jews' Leap. It was a narrow path along the side of a mountain, the base of which was washed by the sea.

The path was about half a mile long and not more than four or five feet broad. The right-hand side was bounded by a wall of rocks, in some places perpendicular and rising to a height of several hundred feet.

On the left-hand side was the Atlantic Ocean, about four hundred feet below the level of the path.

There was no hope for any one who should fall from this path--no hope but heaven.

Not a bush, tree, or any obstacle was seen to offer the slightest resistance to the downward course of a falling body.

The Krooman had travelled this track before, and therefore knew it. He informed his companions that no one ever ventured on the path in wet weather; that it was at all times considered dangerous; but that as it saved a tiresome journey of seven miles around the mountain, it was generally taken in dry seasons. He further told them that the name of the "Jews' Leap", was given to the precipice from a number of Jews having once been forced over it.

It was in the night-time. They had met a numerous body of Moors coming in the opposite direction. Neither party could turn back; a conflict arose, and several on both sides were hurled over the precipice into the sea.

On this occasion as many Moors as Jews had been thrown from the path; but it had pleased the former to give the spot the name of the "Jews'

Leap", which it still retains.

Before venturing upon this dangerous road, Rais Mourad was careful to ascertain that no one was coming from the opposite direction.