A FUGITIVE 277 said, bring home the master of the house; he is sorely wounded.’

There was a loud cry, and the door opened and a woman ran out.

“ ‘ Do not touch him,’ Abdullah exclaimed. ‘ We will get him down from the horse, but first bring out an angareb. We will lower him down on to that.’

The woman went in and returned with an angareb. It was the usual Soudan bed, of wooden framework, with a hide lashed across it. I directed them how to lift one end against the horse so that Saleh could slide down on to it.

‘ Wife,’ the Arab said when this was done, by the will of Allah, who sent this stranger to my aid, I have returned alive. His name is Mudil. I cannot tell you now what he has done for me. This house is his. He is more than guest, he is master. He has promised to remain with me till I die or am given back to life again. Do as he bids you in all things.’

“ Abdullah would have assisted to carry the bed in, but I told him that it might hurt' his arm, and I and the woman could do it. ‘You had better go off at once to your own people, Abdullah. There must be many here who understand the treatment of wounds; you had better get one at once to attend to your arm.”

“ ‘ I will come again this evening,’ the man replied. ‘ I consider that I also owe my life to you; and when you have stayed a while here you must come to me. My wives and children will desire to thank you when I tell them how you brought me in here.’

“ ‘ Is there any place where I can put my horse ? ’ I asked.

“‘Yes,’ the woman replied; ‘take it to that door in the wall. I will go and unfasten it.’ “ There was a shed in the garden. Into this I put my horse, and then entered the house.

“ Most of the Arab women know something of the dressing of wounds. Saleh’s wife sent out a slave to buy various