aders who had set
up a store at Korti. A few of the bales were unpacked at the first
village at which they arrived; small presents were given as usual to the
chief man of the place, and a brisk trade at once commenced. As the
camels were fully loaded, Rupert wondered what the sheik would do with
the goods he obtained in exchange, which consisted chiefly of native
cottons and other articles considerably more bulky than those which he
gave for them; but he found that he had entered into an arrangement with
the head of the village by which the latter agreed to take charge of all
the merchandise until his return.

"It will be perfectly safe," the sheik said, "if I do not return for a
couple of years. If I never return it will be no great loss, since I
have purchased the goods with the monies I have received from you. If I
return this way my camels will be unloaded, and I shall pick up the
goods at the various villages through which I pass and bring them all
down here, and then sell them to some trader who has boats in which he
will take them down the river."

Rupert was now called upon to play his part in earnest. He and Ibrahim
were treated by the sheik when in the villages as two slaves, and while
he and his companions exhibited their goods and drove bargains with the
villagers, Rupert and Ibrahim unloaded the camels, drove them out to
pasture, and took them down to the river to drink, taking their meals as
they could apart from the rest. On these occasions the stores were
untouched, and Rupert and his companion made their meals on dry dates
and cakes of coarse flour baked in the ashes of their fire. Ibrahim was
fortunately a light-hearted fellow and made the best of matters, joking
at the idea of the Arabs feasting upon their stew of kid or mutton while
they had to content themselves with coarse fare.

Rupert cared nothing about the food one way or the other. He was now
really engaged in the search for Edgar. There was, moreover, the
excitement caused by the risk of discovery. When in the villages he
seldom opened his lips except to reply briefly to his companion's talk,
for a chance word might be overheard. When he spoke it was in a guttural
voice, as if he suffered from some affection of the tongue or
malformation of the mouth which prevented him speaking clearly; and
thus, had any villager overheard the conversation between him and
Ibrahim, his defective Arabic would pass unnoticed. Each day after
getting away from