Niger

rest when an old woman appeared, carrying a
wooden bowl. She informed Mungo that she had
brought a present from the bride. Somewhat
surprised, he sat up to see it. Thereat the old
woman discharged the contents of the bowl in his
face. It was urine.
For a moment it is probable that the Christian’s
temper almost gave way. But an equally sur¬
prising thing followed. The old woman gave him
to understand that no malice or mischief was
intended. This was c a nuptial benediction from
the bride’s own person’, and a mark of singular
favour. Wiping the filth from his face, Mungo sent
the lady his acknowledgments.
Still Fatima tarried in her southwards journey to
gaze upon that rare freak, a Christian. Mungo
stared at the evening beams crossing the floor of his
hut, day on day, and bringing the comparative peace
of night. The nights were tolerable compared
with the day.
Teasing the Christian had revived as a sport.
Ingeniously, Mungo hit on a method of diverting
his tormentors into educators. He pretended a
passionate desire to learn Arabic. Whenever a
particularly malevolent face appeared in the open¬
ing of his hut, Mungo would obsequiously beg
assistance in the formation of an aleph. The plan
worked excellently. Greasy tormentors turned to
sweating instructors, scrawling the looping Arab
symbols in the sand to help excavate the Christian
from the pits of his ignorance. So the days passed.
139