With a gesture, he indicated the black mountain.

"They are afraid. All the Tuareg of Ahaggar are afraid of the Mountain
of the Evil Spirits. You saw how they were up and off at the very
mention of its name."

"It is to the Mountain of the Evil Spirits that you are taking us?"
queried Morhange.

"Yes," replied the Targa, "that is where the inscriptions are that I
told you about."

"You did not mention that detail to us."

"Why should I? The Tuareg are afraid of the _ilhinen,_ spirits with
horns and tails, covered with hair, who make the cattle sicken and die
and cast spells over men. But I know well that the Christians are not
afraid and even laugh at the fears of the Tuareg."

"And you?" I asked. "You are a Targa and you are not afraid of the
_ilhinen_?"

Eg-Anteouen showed a little red leather bag hung about his neck on a
chain of white seeds.

"I have my amulet," he replied gravely, "blessed by the venerable
Sidi-Moussa himself. And then I am with you. You saved my life. You
have desired to see the inscriptions. The will of Allah be done!"

As he finished speaking, he squatted on his heels, drew out his long