One of the Tibboos of our caravan translated what the messenger said, and we all decided at once that we would not deliver up Ahmed to his enemies, and that if the Tibboos asked only for a rope’s end they should not have it. “Retrace thy steps,” said we to the envoy, “and tell thy master that we have nothing to do with him—that we have no one to give up. Go!” The messenger galloped swiftly away to report our answer, and the Sultan prepared to attack us. Then the Tibboos, who formed part of our caravan, separated from us, and, with the exception of Ahmed and his family, went off to some distance. Our party, counting Ahmed, only contained twenty-five individuals,[57] not counting the slaves, who were in great numbers. As we approached the well, the Tibboos advanced in a mass, all mounted two-and-two on about sixty or seventy camels. They rushed towards us, furiously casting their javelins. We, that is to say the five Arabs, waited for their approach, and fired a volley at them. Surprised, they turned back and fled like beaten wolves. We remained masters of the well, and encamped there. We drank, and allowed our camels to pasture on the wild herbage of the neighbourhood. We thought that these savage Tibboos, whom we had so easily put to flight, had returned to their dwelling-places, and we rested at our well for two whole days; but, on the third, we suddenly heard loud cries and frightful imprecations. We sent to see what was the matter, and saw four camels resting near a body of armed people. Near them was our guide Ahmed, who stood amidst his people and the Wadaïans of our caravan. With the armed strangers was an old man, who seemed to be their chief. He had a piece of carpet tissue rolled round his head, four or six fingers in breadth, and about a cubit long. This old man was crouching down, like a dog or a hyæna, on his heels. The chief of the Wadaïans said to him,— “Wherefore dost thou return? Thou hadst departed. What dost thou want? What dost thou expect?” “Know,” was the reply, “that I am the Sultan of these deserts; and that I have as many soldiers as you can count. What do I want? I come to advise you to deliver up Ahmed, if you wish to depart without blows or wounds. I know that you and I are not at war, but if you refuse my request there will be danger. That Ahmed slew my cousin, whom I loved as if he had been the son of my mother. It is my duty to avenge my cousin, and cleanse myself from the shame of leaving that murder unpunished.” “But,” said the Wadaïan chief, “art thou not afraid of being killed as thy cousin was killed?” “I have no fear. He who kills me will be killed in his turn. We never forget this duty—never abandon the vengeance of blood, though we should be hacked to pieces with a knife.”