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
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