For another hour we rode onward through a great grove of date palms, until at last we plunged into a dense tropical forest, along what appeared to be a secret, unfrequented path. Presently, however, my guide suggested that we should rest until sunrise, and, dismounting, we unsaddled our horses, and, throwing ourselves down with our heads upon our saddle-bags, slept soundly.
It was bright daylight when, on opening my eyes, I made an amazing discovery. The sex of my companion had changed! My guide to whom I owed my freedom was not a youth, as I had believed, but a young and pretty Arab woman, whose bright-hued silk garments had been concealed by a man’s burnouse, while on her head she had worn the fez and haick instead of the dainty embroidered cap and sequins which she had now resumed.
“Thou art astonished at my transformation,” she laughed roguishly, standing before me with her pretty face unveiled. “Man’s attire doth not suit me in the light of day.”
“Why hast thou practised such deception upon me?” I asked, amazed.
“Because it was necessary. It was arranged that I should merely hold the horses in readiness, but when thou alone escaped, it became imperative that I should act as thy servant and guide.”
“I owe thee a great debt indeed,” I said. “Tell me thy name.”
“My name and tribe are of no consequence,” she answered. “An explanation will be given thee some day; at present I am bound to secrecy.”
“Even though thou art of the sect of the Aïssáwà and of the tribe of the Ennitra—eh?” I asked.
“How didst thou know?” she asked, startled. But I refused to satisfy her curiosity, although, truth to tell, I had noticed neatly tattooed upon her forehead a serpent, the symbol of the more fanatical of the followers of Sidi ben Aïssa, and upon her wrist was a curiously-wrought Kabyle bracelet of white metal, similar in form to one Zoraida had worn. The presence of this woman so far south puzzled me greatly, and I sat silent and thoughtful while she produced from her saddle-bag some dates, with a little skinful of water in which úzak seeds had been dipped, and which I found a cooling and refreshing drink.
When we had eaten, she twisted her haick around her head, leaving just a slit for her eyes, then she sprang lightly into her saddle and we moved on again. Our way lay through a great thicket, where the mimosas and abísga attained such an exuberance as I had never before seen in the Sahara, and being closely interwoven by “gráffeni,” or climbing plants, were almost impenetrable.