“‘With them,’ he said, ‘comes a man who can speak to Frenchman, Arab, Berber, Tuareg, all the peoples of the desert, in his own tongue, a man who speaks many Negro dialects, too. He is the leader. There are two minor chieftains and a guard of two score men armed with short swords, lances and Arab rifles. The rifles have very long barrels and much silver work on the stocks. They are worth a great deal of money. “‘On the outskirts of Gao this party encamps, while a picked force of ten warriors accompanies the three leaders into the slave bazaars. As you know, we dealers traffic in all sorts of human cattle. We have Negroes from many different tribes, captured in battle and sold us by the victors. Arabs, Tuaregs, Berbers, also come to us from those who have captured them in the fight. Even white men, Frenchmen and Spaniards, captured in Morocco and Algiers and Tripoli by fierce tribesmen, like the Riff tribes who are forever fighting the Spaniards in the Atlas mountains, reach us for sale into slavery—’” “Oh, come, now, Ali,” interrupted Mr. Hampton, good-naturedly, “that’s a bit too thick.” Ali shrugged. “Many things go on in Africa which the whites cannot stop,” he said, simply. “It is true, this I tell you.” “But white men,” protested Mr. Hampton. “What think you, then, becomes of the men taken prisoner from the French and Spanish and Italian foreign legions when detachments are trapped in the desert?” asked Ali. “They are not butchered. No, they are too valuable. Some desert sheik or the kaid of some desert city buys them for slaves.” “All right,” said Mr. Hampton. “Go on.” He was quite convinced, yet he knew enough of the mystery of this vast land to many parts of which white men never even had penetrated to this day, to realize what Ali described was not impossible. “‘Then,’ said this slave trader,” continued Ali, “‘these strangers select the very strongest and youngest of the men, be they white, black or brown. Unless a man is of exceptional strength he is not chosen. Sometimes they select only two or three, sometimes a dozen. “‘Only once have I been at Gao when these strangers appeared. Much had I heard about them. My curiosity was excited. That time I had among my slaves a very strong man, a man of the Kongs. He was a full six feet tall, beautifully proportioned, with a fine intelligent head and a brown body like mahogany. He was only twenty-one. “‘The leader of the strangers came to me and pointed out this man. He spoke in Arabic. He wanted to know the Kong’s antecedents, and I said he had been taken in battle only after he had slain five Bakus, being finally entrapped in a net thrown over his head and arms.