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This acquisition to the larder had to be applauded perforce, in spite of its being shot sitting, and on some one else's acres. As luck would have it, S`lam's great bullet, about the size commonly used for big game, had gone through its head: he naïvely explained the advantages of shooting birds through the head. But I think he was a fair shot. Most Riffis are.
With thoughts centred on his recent discovery, our hero made his way to the spot where the camels of his detachment were picketed, and there went mechanically through the work of cleaning up the lines, and the still more unsavoury task of attending to "Lam's" toilet. Should he speak to Valentine, or not? That was the question which occupied his mind.
Thence with Doling to Mother Lam's, who told me how this day Scott was made Intelligencer, and that the rest of the members that were objected against last night were to be heard this day se'nnight. In 1661 he was sent to the Tower, on suspicion of treasonable designs. His intellects appear to have failed afterwards, and he died 1677.
So S`lam set out with our cavalcade, and we proposed to keep him while we were at Tangier, take him by boat to Mogador, and after our march was over return him to Tetuan. But, while "man proposes " I was sorry for Tahara. She was left behind with her old enemy S`lam's mother. He left the mother money, but Tahara not one flus.
When the accounts were all settled up, S`lam would swing out of the room with a "Bon soir tout-le-monde," unless he stayed to give R. a lesson in Arabic, which he could write as well as read an unusual thing, and marking him for a scholar in his country. Blood-feuds among the Riff tribe are common enough. S`lam's father was shot when S`lam was a boy. As soon as he grew up, S`lam shot the man.
In his bachelor days S`lam's earnings had gone to the old woman. Now they were spent on his wife and himself. Therefore Maman saw nothing that was good in Tahara, and would have given much, no doubt, to see the last of her. Meanwhile, the city gate drew near. Tahara was moving along firmly with her hand in mine. The gate was still open! that was a relief.
But the way seemed lengthy; I knew that S`lam would be there long before we could arrive: through the city there are at least three intricate ways by which the house is reached, and my heart sank as I reflected that there was every chance of Miss Z and S`lam's taking another way than our own, and thus missing us. Meanwhile, it was growing darker every moment.
You'se dun me good, honey lam's, an' de Lawd bress you bofe. I'se tote de basket a heap pearter fer dis yere talk. I feels a monst'us sight betteh. Wish I could see you, honey, lookin' as plump as Missy Ella. Dat do me mos' as much good as feelin' 'ligious." Mara worried Mrs. Hunter over her pretence of making a dinner, and then gladly sought the solitude of her own room.
If it was water, why did S`lam keep it wrapped up, and why did Tahara think it was poison? It was half empty. If Tahara had ever seen it full, somebody must have drunk a dose. Of course S`lam's old master had not left a bottle of prussic acid about, and then not missed it.
His name was S`lam Ben Haddon Riffi of Bekiona, son of Haddon and of Fettouch Ben Haddon of Bekiona. S`lam's wife was Tahara. He had served for a year in the French army in Algeria, in the 2nd Regiment of Tirailleurs Algériens; and having picked up a little French, we learnt, with a few Arabic words, to understand each other. He and Tahara spoke Shillah to each other.
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