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 in a narrow valley by the seashore, and in the next hour following a zigzag path on the side of some precipitous mountain.

In such places the kafila would have to proceed in single file, while the Moors would be constantly cautioning the slaves against falling from the backs of their animals.

While stopping for an hour at noon for the horses to rest, the Krooman turned over a flat stone, and underneath it found a large scorpion.

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

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

When he had secured about a dozen within the 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 sight 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 which 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.

When one of the reptiles would succeed 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 reptile receiving it would die immediately after.

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 latter regarded as an act of wanton cruelty, he answered that it was the duty of every man to kill scorpions.

In the afternoon they reached a place called the Jew's 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 sea, 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 passed this way before, and 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 weather. He also told them that the name of "Jew's Leap" was given to the precipice, from a party of Jews having once been forced over it.

It was in the night-time. They had met a numerous party of Moors coming in the opposite direction. Neither party could turn back, a contest 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 "Jew's Leap," which it still bears.

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

After shouting at the top of his voice, and hearing no reply, he led the way, bidding his followers to trust more to their animals than to themselves.

As the white slaves entered on the pass, two Moors were left behind to follow them, and when all had proceeded a short distance along the ledge, the horse ridden by Harry Blount became frightened. It was a young animal, and having been reared on the plains of the desert, was unused to mountain-road.

While the other horses were walking along very cautiously, Harry's steed suddenly stopped, and refused to go any farther.

In such a place a rider has good cause to be alarmed at any eccentricity of behavior in the animal he bestrides, and Harry was just preparing to dismount, when the animal commenced making a retrograde movement, as if determined to turn about.

Harry was behind his companions, and closely followed by one of the Moors. The latter becoming alarmed for his own safety, struck the young Englishman's horse a blow with his musket to make it move forward.

The next instant the hind legs of the refractory animal were over the edge of the precipice, and its body, with the weight of its rider clinging to his neck, was about evenly balanced as on the brink. The horse made a violent struggle to avoid going over, with its nose and fore feet laid close along the path, and vainly striving to regain the position from which it had so imprudently parted.

At this moment its rider determined to make a desperate exertion for his life.

Seizing the horse by the ears, and drawing himself up, he placed one foot on the brink of the precipice, and then sprang clear over the horse's head, just as the animal relinquished its hold! In another instant the unfortunate quadruped was precipitated into the sea, its body striking the water with a dull plunge, as if the life had already gone out of it.

The remainder of the ledge was traversed without any difficulty; and after all had got safely over, Harry's companions were loud in congratulating him upon his narrow escape.

The youth remained silent.

His soul was too full of gratitude to God to give any heed to the words of man.