sh that we shall eat?"

Thereon everybody in the circle answered in a deep measured tone, and
stretching out the right arm towards the fire as he spoke--

"_The flesh will come._"

"Is it a goat?" said the same man.

"_It is a goat without horns, and more than a goat, and we shall slay
it,_" they answered with one voice, and turning half round they one and
all grasped the handles of their spears with the right hand, and then
simultaneously let them go.

"Is it an ox?" said the man again.

"_It is an ox without horns, and more than an ox, and we shall slay
it,_" was the answer, and again the spears were grasped, and again let
go.

Then came a pause, and I noticed, with horror and a rising of the hair,
that the woman next to Mahomed began to fondle him, patting his cheeks
and calling him by names of endearment while her fierce eyes played up
and down his trembling form. I do not know why the sight frightened me
so, but it did frighten us all dreadfully, especially Leo. The caressing
was so snake-like, and so evidently a part of some ghastly formula that
had to be gone through.[*] I saw Mahomed turn white under his brown
skin, sickly white with fear.

[*] We afterwards learnt that its object was to pretend to
the victim that he was the object of love and admiration,
and so to sooth his injured feelings, and cause him to
expire in a happy and contented frame of mind.--L. H. H.

"Is the meat ready to be cooked?" asked the voice, more rapidly.

"_It is ready; it is ready._"

"Is the pot hot to cook it?" it continued, in a sort of scream that
echoed painfully down the great recesses of the cave.

"_It is hot; it is hot._"

"Great heavens!" roared Leo, "remember the writing, '_The people who
place pots upon the heads of strangers._'"

As he said the words, before we could stir, or even take the matter in,
two great ruffians jumped up, and, seizing the long pincers, thrust them
into the heart of the fire, and the woman who had been caressing Mahomed
suddenly produced a fibre noose from under her girdle or moocha, and,
slipping it over his shoulders, ran it tight, while the men next to him
seized him by the legs. The two men with the pincers gave a heave, and,
scattering the fire this way and that upon the rocky floor, lifted
from it a large earthenware pot, heated to a white heat. In an instant,
almost with a single movement, they had reached the spot where Mahomed
was struggling. He fought