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'What shall we do?' said the master; 'are the animals far off?'
'So far that you are not likely ever to see them again,' replied Mohammed. 'This is the fourth day since the robbers came down. How should you be able to overtake them?'
'Then go and herd the cows!' said the man.
'All right!' replied Mohammed, and for two days he went. But on the third day he drove the cows to his uncle, first cutting off their tails.
Only one cow he left behind him.
'Take these cows, dear uncle,' said he. 'I am going to teach that man a lesson.'
'Well, I suppose you know your own business best,' said the uncle. 'And certainly he almost worried me to death.'
So Mohammed returned to his master, carrying the cows' tails tied up in a bundle on his back. When he came to the sea-sh.o.r.e, he stuck all the tails in the sand, and went and buried the one cow, whose tail he had not cut off, up to her neck, leaving the tail projecting. After he had got everything ready, he began to shriek and scream as before, till his master and all the other servants came running to see what was the matter.
'What in the world has happened?' they cried.
'The sea has swallowed up the cows,' said Mohammed, 'and nothing remains but their tails. But if you are quick and pull hard, perhaps you may get them out again!'
The master ordered each man instantly to take hold of a tail, but at the first pull they nearly tumbled backwards, and the tails were left in their hands.
'Stop,' cried Mohammed, 'you are doing it all wrong. You have just pulled off their tails, and the cows have sunk to the bottom of the sea.'
'See if you can do it any better,' said they; and Mohammed ran to the cow which he had buried in the rough gra.s.s, and took hold of her tail and dragged the animal out at once.
'There! that is the way to do it!' said he, 'I told you you knew nothing about it!'
The men slunk away, much ashamed of themselves; but the master came up to Mohammed. 'Get you gone!' he said, 'there is nothing more for you to do! You have killed my mother, you have slain my children, you have stolen my sheep, you have drowned my cows; I have now no work to give you.'
'First give me the strip of your skin which belongs to me of right, as you have broken your contract!'
'That a judge shall decide,' said the master; 'we will go before him.'
'Yes, we will,' replied Mohammed. And they went before the judge.
'What is your case?' asked the judge of the master.
'My lord,' said the man, bowing low, 'my shepherd here has robbed me of everything. He has killed my children and my old mother; he has stolen my sheep, he has drowned my cows in the sea.'
The shepherd answered: 'He must pay me what he owes me, and then I will go.'
'Yes, that is the law,' said the judge.
'Very well,' returned the master, 'let him reckon up how long he has been in my service.'
'That won't do,' replied Mohammed, 'I want my strip of skin, as we agreed in the contract.'
Seeing there was no help for it, the master cut a bit of skin, and gave it to Mohammed, who went off at once to his uncle.
'Now we are rich, dear uncle,' cried he, 'we will sell our cows and sheep and go to a new country. This one is no longer the place for us.'
The sheep were soon sold, and the two comrades started on their travels.
That night they reached some Bedouin tents, where they had supper with the Arabs. Before they lay down to sleep, Mohammed called the owner of the tent aside. 'Your greyhound will eat my strip of leather,' he said to the Arab.
'No; do not fear.'
'But supposing he does?'
'Well, then, I will give him to you in exchange,' replied the Arab.
Mohammed waited till everyone was fast asleep, then he rose softly, and tearing the bit of skin in pieces, threw it down before the greyhound, setting up wild shrieks as he did so.
'Oh, master, said I not well that your dog would eat my thong?'
'Be quiet, don't make such a noise, and you shall have the dog.'
So Mohammed put a leash round his neck, and led him away.
In the evening they arrived at the tents of some more Bedouin, and asked for shelter. After supper Mohammed said to the owner of the tent, 'Your ram will kill my greyhound.'
'Oh, no, he won't.'
'And supposing he does?'
'Then you can take him in exchange.'
So in the night Mohammed killed the greyhound, and laid his body across the horns of the ram. Then he set up shrieks and yells, till he roused the Arab, who said 'Take the ram and go away.'
Mohammed did not need to be told twice, and at sunset he reached another Bedouin encampment. He was received kindly, as usual, and after supper he said to his host: 'Your daughter will kill my ram.'
'Be silent, she will do nothing of the sort; my daughter does not need to steal meat, she has some every day.'
'Very well, I will go to sleep; but if anything happens to my ram I will call out.'
'If my daughter touches anything belonging to my guest I will kill her,'
said the Arab, and went to his bed.
When everybody was asleep, Mohammed got up, killed the ram, and took out his liver, which he broiled on the fire. He placed a piece of it in the girl's hands, and laid some more on her night-dress while she slept and knew nothing about it. After this he began to cry out loudly.
'What is the matter? be silent at once!' called the Arab.
'How can I be silent, when my ram, which I loved like a child, has been slain by your daughter?'
'But my daughter is asleep,' said the Arab.
'Well, go and see if she has not some of the flesh about her.'
'If she has, you may take her in exchange for the ram;' and as they found the flesh exactly as Mohammed had foretold, the Arab gave his daughter a good beating, and then told her to get out of sight, for she was now the property of this stranger.
They wandered in the desert till, at nightfall, they came to a Bedouin encampment, where they were hospitably bidden to enter. Before lying down to sleep, Mohammed said to the owner of the tent: 'Your mare will kill my wife.'