As the men talked the two women were busy within their apartment at their housewifely duties. In a great brazen jidda Hirfa was placing mutton to be boiled for the next meal while Ateja fashioned sandals from an old bag of camel leather impregnated with the juice of the dates that it had borne upon many a rahla, and meanwhile they missed naught of the conversation that passed in the mukaad.
“We have come a long way without mishap from our own beled,” Ibn Jad was remarking, “and the way has been longer because I wished not to pass through el-Habash lest we be set upon or followed by the people of that country. Now may we turn north again and enter el-Habash close to the spot where the magician foretold we should find the treasure city of Nimmr.”
“And thinkest thou to find this fabled city easily, once we are within the boundaries of el-Habash?” asked Tollog, his brother.
“Wellah, yes. It is known to the people of this far south Habash. Fejjuan, himself an Habashy, though he has never been there, heard of it as a boy. We shall take prisoners among them and, by the grace of Ullah, we shall find the means to loose their tongues and have the truth from them.”
“By Ullah, I hope it does not prove like the treasure that lies upon the great rock el-Howwara in the plain of Medain Salih,” said Zeyd. “An afreet guards it where it lays sealed in a stone tower and they say that should it be removed disaster would befall mankind; for men would turn upon their friends, and even upon their brothers, the sons of their fathers and mothers, and the kings of the world would give battle, one against another.”
“Yea,” testified Tollog, “I had it from one of the fendy Hazim that a wise Moghreby came by there in his travels and consulting the cabalistic signs in his book of magic discovered that indeed the treasure lay there.”
“But none dared take it up,” said Zeyd.
“Billah!” exclaimed Ibn Jad. “There be no afreet guarding the treasures of Nimmr. Naught but flesh and blood Habash that may be laid low with ball and powder. The treasure is ours for the taking.”
“Ullah grant that it may be as easily found as the treasure of Geryeh,” said Zeyd, “which lays a journey north of Tebuk in the ancient ruins of a walled city. There, each Friday, the pieces of money roll out of the ground and run about over the desert until sunset.”
“Once we are come to Nimmr there will be no difficulty finding the treasure,” Ibn Jad assured them. “The difficulty will lie in getting out of el-Habash with the treasure and the woman; and if she is as beautiful as the sahar said, the men of Nimmr may protect her even more savagely than they would the treasure.”
“Often do magicians lie,” said Tollog.
“Who comes?” exclaimed Ibn Jad, looking toward the jungle that hemmed the menzil upon all sides.
“Billah! it is Fahd and Motlog returning from the hunt,” said Tollog. “Ullah grant that they bring ivory and meat.”
“They return too soon,” said Zeyd.
“But they do not come empty handed,” and Ibn Jad pointed toward the naked giant that accompanied the returning hunters.
The group surrounding Tarzan approached the sheik’s beyt and halted.
Wrapped in his soiled calico thob, his head kerchief drawn across the lower part of his face, Ibn Jad exposed but two villainous eyes to the intent scrutiny of the ape-man which simultaneously included the pockmarked, shifty-eyed visage of Tollog, the sheik’s brother, and the not ill-favored countenance of the youthful Zeyd.
“Who is sheykh here?” demanded Tarzan in tones of authority that belied the camel leather thongs about his wrists.
Ibn Jad permitted his thorrib to fall from before his face. “Wellah, I am sheykh,” he said, “and by what name art thou known, Nasrany?”
“They call me Tarzan of the Apes, Muslim.”
“Tarzan of the Apes,” mused Ibn Jad. “I have heard the name.”
“Doubtless. It is not unknown to Arab slave raiders. Why, then, came you to my country, knowing I do not permit my people to be taken into slavery?”
“We do not come for slaves,” Ibn Jad assured him. “We do but trade in peace for ivory.”
“Thou liest in thy beard, Muslim,” returned Tarzan, quietly. “I recognize both Manyuema and Galla slaves in thy menzil, and I know that they are not here of their own choosing. Then, too, was I not present when your henchmen fired a shot at el-fil? Is that peaceful trading for ivory? No! it is poaching, and that Tarzan of the Apes does not permit in his country. You are raiders and poachers.”
“By Ullah! we are honest men,” cried Ibn Jad. “Fahd and Motlog did but hunt for meat. If they shot el-fil it must be that they mistook him for another beast.”
“Enough!” cried Tarzan. “Remove the thongs that bind me and prepare to return north from whence thou came. Thou shalt have an escort and bearers to the Sudan. These will I arrange for.”
“We have come a long way and wish only to trade in peace,” insisted Ibn Jad. “We shall pay our bearers for their labor and take no slaves, nor shall we again fire upon el-fil. Let us go our way and when we return we will pay you well for permission to pass through your country.”
Tarzan shook his head. “No! you shall go at once. Come, cut these bonds!”
Ibn Jad’s eyes narrowed. “We have offered thee peace and profits, Nasrany,” he said, “but if thou wouldst have war let it be war. Thou art in our power and remember that dead enemies are harmless. Think it over.” And to Fahd: “Take him away and bind his feet.”
“Be careful, Muslim,” warned Tarzan, “the arms of the ape-man are long—they may reach out even in death and their fingers encircle your throat.”
“Thou shalt have until dark to decide, Nasrany, and thou mayest know that
