the Arabs to some extent, but have
preserved in a marvellous way their individuality as a race.
They have the narrow eyes and the thick nose base of the pure
Oriental; also much of his cunning. One of their special
weaknesses seems to be the invention of the most hideous forms
of torture, which they apply remorselessly to their enemies."

"Pleasant sort of people," Quest muttered.

"We escaped with our lives," the Professor explained earnestly, "from
these people, only on account of an incident which you will find in this
next paragraph:--"

"_Wednesday_. This has been a wonderful day for as, chiefly
owing to what I must place on record as an act of great bravery
by Craig, my servant. Early this morning, a man-eating lion
found his way into the encampment. The Mongars behaved like
arrant cowards. They fled right and left, leaving the Chief's
little daughter, Feerda, at the brute's mercy. Craig, who is by
no means an adept in the use of firearms, chased the animal as
he was making off with the child, and, more by good luck than
anything else, managed to wound it mortally. He brought the
child back to the encampment just as the Chief and the warriors
of the tribe returned from a hunting expedition. Our position
here is now absolutely secure. We are treated like gods, and,
appreciating my weakness for all matters of science, the Chief
has to-day explained to me many of the secret mysteries of the
tribe. Amongst other things, he has shown me a wonderful secret
poison, known only to this tribe, which they call Veedemzoo. It
brings almost instant death, and is exceedingly difficult to
trace. The addition of sugar causes a curious condensation and
resolves it almost to a white paste. The only antidote is a
substance which they use here freely, and which is exactly
equivalent to our camphor."

The Professor closed his book. Quest promptly rang the bell.

"Some sugar," he ordered, turning to the steward.

They waited in absolute silence. The suggestion which the Professor's
disclosure had brought to them was stupefying, even Quest's fingers, as a
moment or two later he rubbed two knobs of sugar together so that the
particles should fall into the tubes of bouillon, shook. The result was
magical. The bouillon turned to a strange shade of grey and began slowly
to thicken.

"It is the Mongar poison!" the Professor cried,