The old man bowed his head upon his breast, and two tears trickled slowly down his cheeks.
CHAPTER IV
PREMONITION OF DEATH.
Since the day when Mohammed had first conceived a dark foreboding of his mother's insidious disease, he had become more earnest and gloomy in his disposition. The other boys avoided meeting and coming into collision with him; they paid the well-earned tribute of fruits from their parents' gardens, and assumed an almost humble demeanor in his presence. He sometimes challenged them to race or wrestle with him, but only the strongest and most active would enter into such trials with him, and he always remained the victor. They were in the habit of turning down a side street when they saw him advancing toward them, and, when they observed him among the rocks with his little gun on his shoulder, they would hide themselves behind some rocky projection and remain concealed until he had passed. But Mohammed saw them. His eye would glitter when he passed their hiding-places, and a contemptuous smile play about his lips. "The hawks fear the eagle," he would murmur to himself, "but the eagle will some day pluck out their feathers and show them that he is master."
Striving to earn money to procure little luxuries for his mother, he would more rarely absent himself from home for longer periods than formerly. When the storm raged, and, the boldest fishermen feared to venture over to Imbro where their nets were laid, Mohammed would offer to go for them, provided they gave him double wages; and the fishermen, fearing that the wild waves might bear away their nets filled with the rare fish that only came up from the deep during the storm, would willingly accede to his demands. One day when the sea was roaring and foaming wildly, one of the fishermen stood upon the shore imploring Allah to save the nets he had taken to Imbro the day before, and which, assuredly filled with the rarest fish, bad perhaps already become a prey to the waves.
"Why not go after them?" said a mocking voice behind him. "Go over and get your nets."
The fisherman regarded the intrepid boy Mohammed, who now stood at his side, with severity. "No one would venture out in such a storm. Moreover, this is Thursday, the evil day on which the ghins, who draw men into the deep, are abroad. I must therefore lose my rich catch and the nets besides. Your old uncle, Toussoun Aga, will be well pleased, however, for it will take all I have to purchase new nets from him."
"My uncle can make no nets at present," said Mohammed. "He has been ill for weeks; I therefore advise you to save those you have, as you will find it impossible to procure as good ones from anybody else."
"A good piece of advice!" cried the fisherman, angrily. "But what am
I to do if the storm tears my nets away?"
"Try to save your nets," replied Mohammed, laughing. "What will you give me if I go over and get them and the catch of fish besides?"