While Golah's mind appeared to be stunned almost to unconsciousness by the refusal of Fatima to obey his orders, his other two wives were moving about, as if engaged in some domestic duty.

Presently the woman he had buried in the sand was seen going towards him with a calabash of water, followed by the other who carried a dish of sangleh.

One of the Arabs perceiving their intention, ran up, and, in an angry tone, commanded them to retire to their tents. The two women persisted in their design, and in order to prevent them, without using violence, the Arab offered to serve the food and drink himself.

This they permitted him to do; but when the water was offered to Golah it was again refused.

The black sheik would not receive either food or drink from the hand of a master.

The sangleh was then consumed by the Arab with a real or sham profession of gratitude; the water was poured into a bucket, and given to one of the camels; and the two calabashes were returned to the women.

Neither a keen longing for food, nor a burning thirst for water, could divert Golah's thoughts from the contemplation of something that was causing his soul extreme anguish.

His physical tortures seemed, for the time, extinguished by some deep mental agony.

Again the wives—the unloved ones—advanced towards him, bearing water and food; and again the Arab stepped forward to intercept them. The two women persisted in their design, and, while opposing the efforts of the Arab to turn them back, they called on the two youths, the relatives of the black sheik, as also on Fatima, to assist them.

Of the three persons thus appealed to, only Golah's son obeyed their summons; but his attempt to aid the women was immediately frustrated by the Arab, who claimed him as a slave, and who now commanded him to stand aside. His command having no effect, the Arab proceeded to use force. At the risk of his life the youth resisted. He dared to use violence against a master—a crime that on the desert demands the punishment of death.

Aroused from his painful reverie by the commotion going on around him, Golah, seeing the folly of the act, shouted to his son to be calm, and yield obedience; but the youth, not heeding the command of his father, continued his resistance. He was just on the point of being cut down, when the Krooman ran forward, and pronouncing in Arabic two words signifying "father and son," saved the youth's life. The Arab robber had sufficient respect for the relationship to stay his hand from committing murder; but to prevent any further trouble with the young fellow, he was seized by several others, fast bound, and flung to the ground by the side of his father.

The two women, still persisting in their design to relieve the wants of their unfortunate husband, were then knocked down, kicked, beaten, and finally dragged inside the tents.

This scene was witnessed by Fatima; who, instead of showing sympathy, appeared highly amused by it,—so much so as even to give way to laughter! Her unnatural behavior once more roused the indignation of her husband.

The wrong of being robbed—the humiliation of being bound—the knowledge that he himself, along with his children, would be sold into slavery—the torture of hunger and thirst—were sources of misery no longer heeded by him; all were forgotten in the contemplation of a far greater anguish.

Fatima, the favorite, the woman to whom his word should have been law,—the woman who had always pretended to think him something more than mortal,—now not only shunning but despising him in the midst of his misfortunes!

This knowledge did more towards subduing the giant than all his other sufferings combined.

"Old Golah looks very down in the mouth," remarked Terence to his companions. "If it was not for the beating he gave me yesterday, I could almost pity him. I made an oath, at the time he was thwacking me with the ramrod, that if my hands were ever again at liberty, I'd see if it was possible to kill him; but now that they are free, and his are bound, I've not the heart to touch him, bad as he is."

"That is right, Terry," said Bill; "it's only wimin an' bits o' boys as throws wather on a drowned rat,—not as I mane to say the owld rascal is past mischief yet. I believe he'll do some more afore the Devil takes 'im intirely; but I mane that Him as sits up aloft is able to do His own work without your helping Him."

"You speak truth, Bill," said Harry; "I don't think there is any necessity for seeking revenge of Golah for his cruel treatment of us; he is now as ill off as the rest of us."

"What is that you say?" inquired Colin. "Golah like one of us? Nothing of the kind. He has more pluck, endurance, obstinacy, and true manly spirit about him than there is in the four of us combined."

"Was his attempt to starve you dictated by a manly spirit?" asked Harry.

"Perhaps not, but it was the fault of the circumstances under which he has been educated. I don't think of that now; my admiration of the man is too strong. Look at his refusing that drink of water when it had been several times offered him!"

"There is something wonderful about him, certainly," assented Harry; "but I don't see anything in him to admire."

"No more do I," said Bill. "He might be as comfortable now as we are; and I say a man's a fool as won't be 'appy when he can."

"What you call his folly," rejoined Colin, "is but a noble pride that makes him superior to any of us. He has a spirit that will not submit to slavery, and we have not."

"That be truth," remarked the Krooman; "Golah nebbar be slave."

Colin was right. By accepting food and drink from his captors, the black sheik might have satisfied the demands of mere animal nature, but only at the sacrifice of all that was noble in his nature. His self-respect, along with the proud, unyielding spirit by which everything good and great is accomplished, would have been gone from him for ever.

Sailor Bill and his companions, the boy slaves, had been taught from childhood to yield to circumstances, and still retain some moral feeling; but Golah had not.

The only thing he could yield to adverse fate was his life.

At this moment the Krooman, by a gesture, called their attention towards the captive sheik, at the same time giving utterance to a sharp ejaculation.

"Look!" exclaimed he, "Golah no stay longer on de SaÄra. You him see soon die now—look at him!"

At the same instant Golah had risen to his feet, inviting his Arab master to a conference.

"There is but one God," said he, "Mahomet is his prophet; and I am his servant. I will never be a slave. Give me one wife, a camel, and my scimitar, and I will go. I have been robbed; but God is great, and it is his will, and my destiny."

Golah had at length yielded, though not because that he suffered for food and water; not that he feared slavery or death; not that his proud spirit had become weak or given way; but rather that it had grown stronger under the prompting of Revenge.

The Arab sheik conferred with his followers; and there arose a brief controversy among them.

The trouble they had with their gigantic captive, the difficulty they anticipated in disposing of him, and their belief that he was a good Mussulman, were arguments in favor of granting his request, and setting him at liberty.

It was therefore decided to let him go—on the condition of his taking his departure at once.

Golah consented; and they proceeded to untie his hands. While this was being done, the Krooman ran up to Colin's master, and cautioned him to protect his slave, until the sheik had departed.

This warning was unnecessary, for Golah had other and more serious thoughts to engage his mind than that of any animosity he might once have felt against the young Scotchman.

"I am free," said Golah, when his hands were untied. "We are equals, and Mussulmen. I claim your hospitality. Give me some food and drink."

He then stepped forward to the well, and quenched his thirst, after which some boiled camel meat was placed before him.

While he was appeasing an appetite that had been two days in gaining strength, Fatima, who had observed a strange expression in his eyes, appeared to be in great consternation. She had believed him doomed to a life of slavery, if not to death; and this belief had influenced her in her late actions.

Gliding up to the Arab sheik, she entreated to be separated from her husband; but the only answer she received was, that Golah should have either of the three wives he chose to take; that he (the sheik) and his companions were men of honor, who would not break the promise they had given.

A goat-skin of water, some barley meal, for making sangleh, and a few other necessary articles, were placed on a camel, which was delivered over to Golah.

The black sheik then addressed a few words in some African language to his son; and, calling Fatima to follow him, he started off across the desert.