"Oh, what fearful darkness broods over this land!" thought Walter, "when the very children are trained to delight in deeds of rapine and blood;" and he sighed.
"Why do you sigh?" said Sultána, more gently, laying her little hand upon Walter's. "My father would not cut off your head. You saved his little Eagle. I like you—I thank you!" and soft moisture rose in her large blue eyes as she uttered the words.
"Sultána, you have not thanked Him who sent me to save you," said Walter, gently caressing the small, sun-burnt hand.
"Who sent you?" exclaimed Sultána, glancing suspiciously around.
"The great God,—He whom you call Allah."
"Did He send you,—did He speak to you? when? how?" exclaimed Sultána, in great surprise, withdrawing her hand as she spoke.
"I did not hear His voice with my mortal ears; and yet, Sultána, I feel sure, quite sure, that He sent me here to save you. I came into this jungle thinking to be quite alone, that I might talk with God."
"How can you talk with Allah?" cried Sultána, the mystery exciting her curiosity, almost her fear.
"I tell him all my troubles," replied Walter; "I have had many troubles of late, and I thank Allah for helping me through them. I shall thank Him to-night for saving you from the cheetah."
"And does Allah answer?" inquired Sultána, her large eyes fixed inquiringly on the speaker.