was so snake-like, and so evidently a part of some ghastly formula that
had to be gone through.[*] I saw Mahomed turn white under his brown
skin, sickly white with fear.

[*] We afterwards learnt that its object was to pretend to
the victim that he was the object of love and admiration,
and so to sooth his injured feelings, and cause him to
expire in a happy and contented frame of mind.--L. H. H.

"Is the meat ready to be cooked?" asked the voice, more rapidly.

"_It is ready; it is ready._"

"Is the pot hot to cook it?" it continued, in a sort of scream that
echoed painfully down the great recesses of the cave.

"_It is hot; it is hot._"

"Great heavens!" roared Leo, "remember the writing, '_The people who
place pots upon the heads of strangers._'"

As he said the words, before we could stir, or even take the matter in,
two great ruffians jumped up, and, seizing the long pincers, thrust them
into the heart of the fire, and the woman who had been caressing Mahomed
suddenly produced a fibre noose from under her girdle or moocha, and,
slipping it over his shoulders, ran it tight, while the men next to him
seized him by the legs. The two men with the pincers gave a heave, and,
scattering the fire this way and that upon the rocky floor, lifted
from it a large earthenware pot, heated to a white heat. In an instant,
almost with a single movement, they had reached the spot where Mahomed