sudden silence fell upon them, and many remembered important business awaiting them at home. Nevertheless the sons of many rich merchants, as well as money changers, backers, and other followers of the sport followed us through the gates. Under the archway we were all thoroughly searched by the guards, who made us remove our cloaks and then felt along all seams and hems; much cunning would have been necessary to smuggle in even the smallest knife.
On either side of the forecourt were the barracks and kitchens of the guard. A gateway in the inner wall led to a second courtyard, where our clothes were searched again. Before us rose a wall in which a fine wrought-iron gate allowed us a glimpse of a fountain and a number of evergreen trees. In our own court also there was a pool, and under a roof supported by most lovely columns stood the throne. The guard gathered about this and showed the spectators to their places.
The ring was not large, but was strewn with soft sand in which one sank to the ankles. Andy was amazed at this, having seen nothing like it before; here, he said, one could fall on one’s head without breaking one’s neck. But on the other hand it prevented quick moves and evasions. Brute strength counted for more than skill here; one could not even dash the adversary’s head against a stone, but had to vanquish him with one’s bare hands.
A large number of chamberlains, eunuchs, mamelukes, Negroes, and boys with painted faces gathered in the courtyard and took up their positions in front of those who had come in from the city. At the latticed window above the Sultan’s throne appeared a group of veiled women, who ordered the concealing slatted blinds to be removed, that they might have a better view and be themselves more visible to the spectators.
At last the gate in the third wall was opened, and Selim ben-Hafs, attended by the most distinguished members of his suite, staggered down the steps. His eyes were almost closed up by the quantities of opium he consumed, and his oiled face showed him to be in an evil humor.
The savage-looking wrestlers stepped at once into the arena, and dashed at one another till the sand flew; yet they were careful not to hurt one another, and their performance was largely make-believe. Selim ben-Hafs soon wearied of them and in a shrill, furious voice degraded them to hewers of wood, which seemed rather to please than to dismay these peaceable men.
Meanwhile I had been edging forward among the spectators, looking here and there as if in search of a better vantage point. I thus contrived to move about the courtyard and peep behind curtains, and no one stopped me, even when I entered the empty palace. I crept in and out of the cellars and even looked into the kitchens, where I was surprised by a cook who asked me in amazement what I wanted. I said, “I’m the brother of Antar, the famous wrestler, and a slave like yourself. Being very anxious on my brother’s account I find myself in need of the privy.”
The cook kindly showed me to the servants’ privy, which had brick supports for the feet and troughs which could be sluiced with water. Having relieved myself I conversed politely with the cook, and he invoked many blessings upon me, so that I gave him two square silver coins. He was delighted and showed me the great kitchen; he told me how many different dishes were prepared there daily for the Sultan, and how they were carried in and tasted three or four times before being set before him.
I asked him about the women of the harem, of whom Giulia had had so much to say after meeting them at the public bathhouse. The cook smiled slyly and replied, “Our ruler despises and neglects his wives, and therefore allows them a quite unseemly freedom. He delights more in boys. If you should happen to have another couple of silver coins on you I could show you a little secret which might amuse you, since you seem an inquisitive man.”
As I fumbled with my girdle I let fall a gold coin as if by accident, but did not stoop to pick it up. The cook was overjoyed, and said, “I see that you’ve had a good upbringing, slave though you are; and you’re a good Moslem too, for in the eyes of Allah avarice is the most detestable of sins.”
He picked up the coin, and having looked about him carefully, he led me up a narrow stair and along a passage that ended at an iron door.
“I’ve been told,” he said, “that this door is often used by those who for one reason or another do not wish to be seen at the golden gateway to the Court of Bliss. The door opens silently. If anyone comes out this way, all slaves and servants turn their backs. If anyone enters it, he blinds the eyes of the curious with a shower of gold and silver.”
At this point we heard a vigorous clanging of bells from the courtyard. The cook was eager to see the greatest match of the day, and I followed him into the open air. But, as in Sinan’s house, I had had the impression, throughout my rambles in this palace, of being watched. I felt that invisible eyes had followed my every step. Therefore I rejoined Abu el-Kasim and stayed beside him to watch the wrestling, as if I had had indeed no other object in my wanderings than to find the privy.
Andy and the Sultan’s black master wrestler had now stepped into the ring. Amid the ringing of bells they greeted Sultan Selim ben-Hafs, who responded merely with a gesture of impatience, as a sign that the fight might begin. At the same instant the black charged at Andy with lowered head, snatching up a handful of sand as he ran and throwing it in Andy’s face to blind him. But Andy turned aside in time and shut his eyes, their two powerful bodies collided, and each got a sturdy grasp of the other. The black man had a body like a hundred-year oak, and his limbs were as knotted as its branches; it was a magnificent sight to see these two herculean men squeezing one another, each striving to break the other’s hold.
In honest wrestling Andy was clearly the better man, and when his black adversary saw that he lacked the strength to overcome him fairly, he sank his teeth into Andy’s shoulder. He had aimed at his car, but Andy was too quick for him, and now panted wrathfully.
“A man must follow the customs of the country”-and in his turn Andy bit deep into the Negro’s shoulder, so that the fellow howled and Selim ben-Hafs burst out laughing.
Andy was already forcing the black to his knees, but the oily body slipped from his grasp and the next moment the Negro drove his head violently against Andy’s chest, which resounded like a drum. Undeterred, Andy stooped like lightning and seized the fellow’s ankles, threw him down and began whirling him round at such speed that the onlookers cried out aghast, and Selim ben-Hafs recoiled and clutched his head with both hands. But Andy did no more than hurl his opponent headlong onto the sand. Unhurt, the man leaped to his feet and charged again.
The struggle continued, with Andy holding his own, and the backers, forgetful of the Sultan’s presence, shouted and raised their bids. But Selim ben-Hafs scowled and showered insults upon his champion. From now on the rabble knew that this man’s life was at stake. Once more he gained firm hold of Andy, twisted and turned and tried with all his might to get his thumb into his eyes or kick him in the groin. He would not give in though Andy threw him several times so that by rights he should have confessed himself beaten. But each time he rose, and with foaming lips and bloodshot eyes dashed in mad fury at Andy, to kill him at the first opportunity. At last he got a thumb into Andy’s eye, and it was Andy’s turn to yell with pain. But at that moment came a snap as the champion’s arm was broken, and in a flash Andy was pressing the man’s face into the sand.
He thought the sport was at an end, but Selim ben-Hafs had wearied of his own wrestler, who had shamed him before all the people, and he signed to Andy to continue. Andy rose bewildered, not understanding what he meant, and at once the Negro, careless of his agony, threw his sound arm round Andy’s legs and brought him to the ground; then knelt upon his tenderest parts and tried to get his teeth into his throat. Nothing was left for Andy to do but lock the fellow’s arms and break his neck. Selim ben-Hafs burst into noisy laughter and applause.
A bundle containing money was now given to Andy; Selim ben- Hafs also bestowed a purse upon him and Abu el-Kasim received a kaftan of honor, in recognition of the great pleasure the contest had afforded the Sultan. But the body of the champion Selim ordered to be taken away and thrown into the sewers, since in his opinion the fellow deserved no better burial. When the spectators began to leave we were detained by the Sultan’s servants, and we wondered uneasily what more he required of us.
Abu el-Kasim was first brought before him, to kneel and kiss the ground before the throne.
“What is the price of your slave?” asked Selim ben-Hafs.
Abu would not have been Abu if he had not instantly burst into tears and vowed that he was a poor man, and so on incessantly, until
Selim ben-Hafs raised his hands and commanded him in the name of Allah to cut short his lamentations.
“What is the price of your slave?” he repeated, signing meanwhile to one of his attendants, who in a significant manner began fingering a supple cane.
Abu el-Kasim broke from the grasp of the two men who held him, carefully removed the kaftan of honor that the Sultan had presented to him, and then rent his garments, calling Allah to witness that never in Algiers or indeed
