"He is my tried and faithful servant, Ndabezita," pleaded Haviland. "He is not the enemy of this people--indeed, very much the reverse, for who delivered him--delivered all of us--out of the hand of Mushad?" "Ha! Mushad!" exclaimed the King, whom an idea seemed to strike-- perhaps also a little impressed by the absolute fearlessness evinced by Haviland, and which decided him to spare Somala for the present. "Bring forward Mushad and his other dogs." A ferocious murmur of delight hummed through the whole assembly. The hated slavers were about to suffer. Many willing hands dragged them forward into the presence of the King. His iron frame wasted with exhaustion and ill-treatment, Mushad's spirit was still unbent. He met the fierce scowl of the despot with a scowl every whit as savage and defiant. "Ho! Mushad!" cried the King, mockingly. "But a short while since thou didst swear to seize me and make a slave of me. How now? I think thou didst swear thine oath upside down." "God is God, and Mohammed is the Prophet of God. He shall turn the foul unbeliever into worse than a dog. It matters not who is his instrument in doing so," answered the Arab, defiantly. "_Whau_!" cried the King. "If Mohammed comes near the land of Inswani he shall taste what you are about to taste. But you--you have made slaves of certain of my people. Slaves of the people of Inswani! Hear you it, my children?" Even our two friends, tried, intrepid adventurers as they were, could not help a sense of heart-failing as they heard the terrific roar of hate and vengeance which was hurled from every throat as these words of the King fell upon their ears: "Warriors of Inswani, slaves beneath the lash of this Arab dog!" Well, he was at their mercy at last. "Let him taste the lash!" they roared. The King nodded to the executioners. Mushad was seized and the clothing rent from his back, revealing the weals of former scourgings. But no cry for mercy escaped him as the cruel whips of raw-hide fell upon his emaciated form, striping it until the blood spurted. The two white men felt perfectly sick, but to display signs of any such weakness would be as impolitic as any display of weakness in the presence of these fierce and truculent savages. Even the effort made to remind themselves of Mushad's own barbarities was not sufficient to reconcile them to the horrid sight. But with every cruel whistling blow, the Inswani roared with delight. "Hold!" cried the King at last. "He has had enough. Take him away and give him plenty of food. He must be made quite strong for what he has to undergo. We have only begun upon thee as yet, Mushad. And now, bring forward yon other dogs, and let them taste of what they have dared to inflict upon my children--the warriors of the Inswani. For them, too, it is only a foretaste of what is to come."