l.

"Allah bless you, master. We are weary and glad to approach our
journey's end," replied the head of the caravan.

"Have you seen the wild boar in your last day's journey?"

"We have, my master, in great numbers, not far from here."

"Good ones?"

"As large as an ass, my master."

"In which direction?"

The Moor responded by raising his hand and solemnly pointing to the
south-east.

After riding in the direction given for an hour or more, the party
halted on the crest of a hill, scanning the desert for game, and
discovered two sickly looking little pigs running across the valley
below.

"Those are not the ones the Moor saw?" said Paul.

"Oh yes, they are. It's a wonder he imagined them so small as an ass,
for it is their national characteristic to exaggerate."

There was rather meager sport in running down and spearing the skinny
little wild pigs, but after it was done the party returned to the city,
as the experienced hunters knew there would be no use looking further
that day.

One place in the queer old Moorish city which Paul never tired of
visiting, was the market. There the Moorish women with covered
faces, squatted on the ground displaying their little bowls of beans,
peas, etc., for sale. The tired camels from the desert were laying with
their noses buried in the sand, taking much needed rest, while their
owners stood about and bartered the goods of which they were possessed.
Once, while walking around the market place with Colonel Mathews, Paul
saw a man seated cross-legged on the ground in the midst of a
circle of merchants, who were deeply interested in the discourse and
gestures of the central figure.

"I'll wager something that I can guess what that fellow is, though I do
not understand Arabic," remarked Paul to the Colonel.

"Well, what is he?" asked the Colonel.

"An auctioneer," triumphantly asserted Boyton.

"Wrong. He is a professional story-teller. He is as imaginative as
Scheherazade and the merchants here are so busy that they always have
time and inclination to listen to his long fairy tales."

After each story the listeners dropped a small coin, valued at one-
twentieth of a cent, into the story-teller's hat.

Another thing that amused Paul was the indiscriminate use the guides
made of the stout sticks they carried, whacking the natives who got
in their way in the narrow streets as mercilessly as they did the asses
they drove.

The women were all hea