ld the latter of the interesting
character of the white slaves, as he called the three Arab boys, and how
he had found them shamming death, he commanded him to bring them before
him and Olimali that they might be amused.

Tifum hastened out obedient to his chief's mandates, and, arriving
before the prisoners, searched for the Arab boys, who had already
forgotten their misery in a deep sleep. Finding that they were in a too
uninteresting condition to amuse his master, he had several gourds full
of water brought to him, which he threw over them to cause them to cast
off the disposition to sleep. This being done, he led them to the
presence of his chief.

Ferodia was holding forth to Olimali upon the prospects of the great
riches they should share with each other on the morrow when the young
prisoners were ushered before him. By the dim light which the torches
gave out, they appeared much more pallid and strange in a land where
white people had never been seen; indeed, one might say they were rather
alarming; and it is no wonder that Ferodia started as the three were
pushed towards him.

But, quickly recovering himself, as he remembered who they were, he
burst out into a laugh, saying, "Ah, I remember, these are the Arab
youths thou didst speak to me of, Tifum. This pombe, Olimali, is
strong. I think it has made me light-headed,"--speaking these words
aside to the Mrori chief.

Then attentively fixing his gaze upon the prisoners, and looking them
all over, he said, half to himself, "What strange people these Arabs
are--all white! Their hides are as white almost as the yolk of eggs but
how came the tallest one, I wonder, to have so many wounds?"

"Tifum," said Ferodia, aloud, "what ails this tallest lad? These wounds
are not the wounds of arrows."

Tifum, bending his back almost double, said, "My chief, this boy is as
stubborn as an ass. When I remembered the cruelties the people of this
boy have practised upon those of our colour, my blood boiled within me,
and when I told him to arise and be bound like the other prisoners, he
spat in my face, and I flogged him."

"Pah, pah, Tifum! he but acted as the Watuta boys would have done; but
lay not thine hand on him again. I take him for my slave. The boy is
half dead already. Here," said he, addressing Selim, "drink this,"
handing him a good ladleful of sparkling pombe; "it will put life in thy
dull veins."

Selim shook his head and curled his lips in scorn,