“I have been with the real Moors, my London _Caloró_. Who knows more of the real Moors than myself? About forty years ago I was with my _ro_ in Ceuta, for he was still a soldier of the king, and he said to me one day, ‘I am tired of this place, where there is no bread and less water; I will escape and turn _Corahanó_; this night I will kill my sergeant, and flee to the camp of the Moor.’ ‘Do so,’ said I, ‘my _chabó_, and as soon as may be I will follow you and become a _Corahaní_.’ That same night he killed his sergeant, who five years before had called him _Caló_ and cursed him; then running to the wall he dropped from it, and, amidst many shots, he escaped to the land of the _Corahai_. As for myself, I remained in the _presidio_ of Ceuta as a suttler, selling wine and _repañi_ to the soldiers. Two years passed by, and I neither saw nor heard from my _ro_. One day there came a strange man to my _cachimani_; he was dressed like a _Corahanó_, and yet he did not look like one; he looked more like a _callardó_, and yet he was not a _callardó_ either, though he was almost black; and as I looked upon him, I thought he looked something like the _Errate_; and he said to me, ‘_Zincali_; _chachipé_!’ and then he whispered to me in queer language, which I could scarcely understand, ‘Your _ro_ is waiting; come with me, my little sister, and I will take you unto him.’ ‘Where is he?’ said I, and he pointed to the west, to the land of the _Corahai_, and said, ‘He is yonder away; come with me, little sister, the _ro_ is waiting.’ For a moment I was afraid, but I bethought me of my husband, and I wished to be amongst the _Corahai_; so I took the little _parné_ I had, and, locking up the _cachimani_, went with the strange man. The sentinel challenged us at the gate, but I gave him _repañi_, and he let us pass; in a moment we were in the land of the _Corahai_. About a league from the town, beneath a hill, we found four people, men and women, all very black like the strange man, and we joined ourselves with them, and they all saluted me and called me little sister. That was all I understood of their discourse, which was very crabbed; and they took away my dress, and gave me other clothes, and I looked like a _Corahaní_, and away we marched for many days amidst deserts and small villages, and more than once it seemed to me that I was amongst the _Errate_, for their ways were the same. The men would _hokkawar_ with mules and asses, and the women told _baji_, {118} and after many days we came before a large town, and the black man said, ‘Go in there, little sister, and there you will find your _ro_;’ and I went to the gate, and an armed _Corahanó_ stood within the gate, and I looked in his face, and lo! it was my _ro_.