The lion roared, and the hyena howled unheeded, for they fled from
man, more cruel and relentless, when in pursuit of blood, than the savage
beasts of the desert.
At sunrise they paused to refresh themselves beside a scanty well,
surrounded by a few palm-trees. One of the young Arabs climbed a tree, and
looked in every direction, but not a horseman was to be seen.
"We have outstripped pursuit," said the Bedouins; "whither shall we conduct
thee? Where is thy home and the land of thy people?"
"Home have I none!" replied Abderahman, mournfully, "nor family, nor
kindred! My native land is to me a land of destruction, and my people seek
my life!"
The hearts of the youthful Bedouins were touched with compassion at these
words, and they marveled that one so young and gentle should have suffered
such great sorrow and persecution.
Abderahman sat by the well and mused for a time. At length, breaking
silence, "In the midst of Mauritania," said he, "dwells the tribe of
Zeneta. My mother was of that tribe; and perhaps when her son presents
himself, a persecuted wanderer, at their door, they will not turn him from
the threshold.
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