The robbers paused, surprised at the determination to oppose himself against such palpable odds; but, in order to prove how the hero had miscalculated his chances, one of the men discharged an arrow, and transfixed his sword-arm, pinning it to the tree. The traveller immediately snapped off the shaft, and raised his arm to strike, but it fell powerless beside him. He was instantly overpowered and disarmed; but upon examining the contents of his load, great was the disappointment of the bandits. They scattered its contents upon the ground, deriding the stranger’s risk of his life for property so valueless. “Well,” said the robber who had already spoken, “as he keeps no purse, we must make one out of him. His limbs are of the right mould, and your purchasers of slaves will give something for a sturdy labourer. We’ll bid you good-bye when we can provide you a master who knows how to pay for being furnished with a brawny pair of shoulders, that he may lay his own load upon, without carrying them under his own head. Come along; you shall rest quietly till that awkward puncture in your arm is healed, and then you shall be shown the way to the next hamlet.” The stranger’s arms were bound with his turban, and he was forced to proceed between two of the bandits. They entered the thicket, and after a walk of about five minutes, stood before several rude huts, formed in one of the closest recesses of the forest. These hovels were constructed from various growths of the jungle, a small square spot having been cleared in front, where the outlaws smoked, cooked their curries, and held their councils. Each hut accommodated a family, for all the men were married. As there was no spare dwelling for the stranger, one was immediately constructed by a couple of the robbers, and completed in about two hours. It consisted of a few slight bamboos, driven into the ground at intervals of a foot, under the foilage of a low tree, which formed the roof. These bamboos were crossed with smaller canes, and the interstices filled with broad leaves and dried grass: the turf being cleared from within, the habitation was complete. On the third day after his capture, the traveller was commanded to prepare for a change of condition. His wound was doing well, but the arm continued useless. His hands had not been released from the bandage by which they were confined when he was made captive. He was brought out into the area before the huts. “Now,” said the principal bandit, addressing him, “what say you to a change of life, in the mode at least? We are robbers; our business requires quick heads and stout hearts. You are a brave son of a good mother: what say you to a union of interests with those who, as you see, know how to live, and when provisions get scarce, are not over nice in appropriating them without purchase?” “I fear,” replied the prisoner, “that I have too quick a conscience for a robber. You had better not trust me: I should betray you.”