orefoot. The chiropodists
opened their eyes. Everybody in Algeria had heard of the stallion
Sunlight, an animal whom money could not buy, and who was said to wear
shoes of gold set with precious stones.

"A corn on a horse's hoof is not the same thing as a corn on a man's
foot," said Ducardanoy.

"But we can cure it, nevertheless," said Bouchardy.

"Do not interfere, Bouchardy. You know nothing of surgery of the feet,"
said Ducardanoy, scornfully. "I shall require more pay for curing a corn
on a horse's hoof than I would in the case of a man."

"The Sheik will fill your mouth with gold," said the messenger.

The Sheik's camp was pitched in the open desert, and the men of science
vainly looked about in every direction for the far-famed hill against
whose western face lay an immense heap of sand that hummed and sung
whenever its surface was disturbed and sent sliding downward. The Sheik
was himself troubled with a bad foot, due to his imprudently wearing a
pair of razor-toed patent-leather shoes presented to him by the General
commanding the department, and Ducardanoy was asked to relieve him
before examining the golden-shod horse.

"Where is the Mountain of Singing Sands?" asked Ducardanoy, as he
finished tying the last bandage on the Sheik's foot.

"We do not always camp in one place, you know," said the Sheik; "but you
will see it shortly."

"How so?" asked Ducardanoy, in surprise. "It is not visible on the
horizon, and must be a day's journey. How shall I see it shortly?"

"You will see it as the Evil One flies through the air with your soul on
the way to the abode of the lost. Mustapha, bring out Sunlight and his
consort, and make ready to drag these infidels asunder."

The chiropodists turned pale as this command was given, and the horses
were brought forth, one a dapple gray with gold shoes, the other a
dapple gray with silver shoes, and they had not yet uttered a word when
the Sheik's retainers advanced to bind them.

"Stop!" cried Ducardanoy. "Why are we to be killed? What is our crime?"

"Do you not remember the time when by your devilish arts you frightened
some true believers at the Roman tower and took their property? The
Sheik of that tribe was my nephew, and even if he were no kin of mine,
you infidel dogs should die for robbing true believers."

"When death is a punishment," said Bouchardy, "it is where the man
desires to live and cannot, for if he desires to die, death can be no
punishment.