Presently the traveller saw about forty Arabs leave the grove and go far
away. But Suleiman came not. So the minister went into the grove to
search for him, and there he found---not Suleiman--but his dead body!

There it lay on the ground, covered with blood. The minister gazed upon
the dark countenance once so joyful, and he thought it looked as if the
poor Arab had died in great agony. It was frightful to observe the number
of his wounds. Three balls had been shot into his body by the gun which
went off three times. Three great cuts had been made in his head; his
neck was almost cut off from his head, and his hand from his arm! How
suddenly was the proud Arab laid low in the dust! All his delights were
perished forever. Suleiman had been promised a new dress of gay colors at
the end of the journey; but he would never more gird a shawl round his
active frame, or fold a turban round his swarthy brow. The Arabs wrapped
their beloved master in a loose garment, and placing him on his beautiful
camel, they went in deep grief to a hill at a little distance. There they
buried him. They dug no grave; but they made a square tomb of large loose
stones, and laid the dead body in the midst, and then covered it with
more stones. There Suleiman sleeps in the desert. But the day shall come
when "the earth shall disclose her blood, and shall no more cover her
slain:" and then shall the blood of Suleiman and his slain body be
uncovered, and his murderer brought to judgment.[3]

[3] Extracted chiefly from "The Pastor's Memorial," by the Rev.
G. Fisk. Published by R. Carter & Brothers.