That night I beheld such a shower of falling stars that for a moment the dark sky seemed strewn with sparks. The man at the steering oar murmured Arabic words, and when I asked him what they meant he answered, “I trust in God and not the devil stoned.” He explained that Allah used the lower stars to throw at the devil, and so it was a good omen that Allah should be doing this as we neared the isle of Jerba.
The explanation seemed to me childish, but I said nothing-only sighed and thought of the slavery awaiting me.
Next day we entered Jerba harbor. Torgut appeared on deck to lead the prayers and the whole crew donned their finest clothes. They avoided blue, I soon learned, because it was the Christian color, and also yellow, which was the color of the Jews. Both Andy and I were given a clean strip of stuff to bind in a turban round our heads. As I could do no more for my own adornment, I washed the dog, despite vigorous opposition, and combed his curly coat with my fingers.
The low, sandy isle beneath a burning sun presented no very cheering prospect. As we drew level with the beacon at the mouth of the harbor, Torgut ordered a shot to be fired from his light harquebus only, to show that this time his spoils were little to boast of. I saw the low cupola and white minaret of the mosque, a swarm of mud huts and, on a green mound, the walled residence of Sinan the Jew. But the governor did not ride down in state to meet us, as no doubt he would have ridden if we had arrived firing a salute of cannon and flying the flags of victory. Only a gang of ragamuffins had collected on the beach, and the harbor felt like a glowing oven as we entered it from the cool sea.
Despite our fine clothes and flashing weapons we looked a pitiful little group as we set off along the dusty bridle track to Sinan’s kasbah. At our head walked the Negro with the scimitar, carrying on his back the sack full of Christian heads. After him, their hands bound behind them, came the four seamen who had been found suitable for the galleys. Andy and I walked with a chain about our necks although we had accepted the one God and therefore ought not to have been bound. In happy ignorance of our slavery and the Law of the Prophet my dog followed close at heel sniffing avidly at all the new smells, which were indeed plentiful in this squalid haunt. Next came the galley slaves carrying the plunder, which had been divided up into many bundles and boxes to make it seem more than it was. Lastly followed Captain Torgut and his men, who strove to utter cries of triumph. The townspeople hurried after us too, politely screaming out their blessings in the name of Allah. Only the merchants, gathered in front of their booths, pointed contemptuously at us with their thumbs. Giulia had been arrayed in her best clothes and now rode heavily veiled upon a donkey immediately behind Torgut, attended by four men armed with scimitars.
The gates of the kasbah were opened wide, and on either side of them we saw sun-dried human heads, impaled on hooks fixed to the wall. In the middle of the great courtyard was a basin of hewn stone surrounded by grass. Prisoners and slaves who lay dozing in the shade sat up and gazed at us dully. Torgut, having sent his men in with the booty, left them to wait by the well. Andy and I were also left alone and Giulia dismounted from her donkey to join us. To show compassion in the name of Allah, Torgut’s men loosed the seamen’s bonds and let them drink from the fountain. I drank, too, for a beautifully wrought copper cup was chained to the rim, and I marveled at the excellence of the water, having yet to learn that by the commandment of the Koran there must always and in every place be fresh water available to the thirsty.
Sinan the Jew was in no hurry to see us, and Torgut’s men squatted patiently down upon the ground to wait. Andy was astonished, and remarked, “The customs of sea warfare are evidently different from those on land, for if these lads had been Germans or Spaniards they’d have had a good fire going by now and a roast and casks of ale, and the wine jar would be passing from hand to hand; there’d be swearing and brawling and dicing, with the camp drabs busy in the shade of the wall. We’ve come a long way from Christendom.”
While Andy was yet speaking, Captain Torgut’s savage Negro stepped up to him, bringing an Italian as interpreter, who said, “Mus- suf the Negro is angry because you treacherously seized him from behind and threw him into the sea. He could not be revenged at that time, since the Law of the Prophet forbids dispute among the faithful in time of battle. But now he would measure his strength with you.”
Andy could hardly believe his ears.
“Dares that poor wretch really challenge me? Tell him I’m too strong to fight with him, and let him go in peace.”
The Negro jumped up and down, rolled his eyes, and insulted Andy, beating himself on the chest and tensing his muscles. Andy, to give friendly warning of his own strength, rose from the millstone he had been sitting on, bent down to grasp it and lifted it smoothly above his head. Not content with this he put his left hand behind him and held the huge stone on his right hand alone. When Torgut’s men saw this, many of them rose and gathered about him, until he let the stone fall to the ground with a mighty thud.
The Negro in his turn bent down and with enormous effort raised the stone in his arms; but twist and struggle as he might he could not lift it above his head. His legs began to tremble; he dropped the stone and if Andy had not skipped aside his toes would have been crushed. He admonished the Negro mildly, but the man rolled his eyes worse than ever, and the Italian said, “Be on your guard, for Mussuf threatens to throw you over the wall. But if you’ll try an honest fall with him he’ll not be too rough with you.”
Andy put both hands to his head.
“One of us three is mad. But I’ve warned the fellow; now he shall get what he asks for.”
He took off the garment that he had been given to protect his back from the sun, and stepped up to the Negro. After that all I could see was a whirling tangle of arms and legs, until suddenly Andy flew into the air, to land on his back with such a crash that he lay there astounded and unable to believe his senses. The Negro burst into joyous laughter, so that his teeth gleamed white in his black face, but it was clear that he bore Andy no ill will.
Seeing him lie there motionless I hurried over to him, but he thrust me aside, sat up and asked where he was and what had happened. I fancied that he was play-acting and that he had let the Negro win, to flatter him. But Andy felt his limbs and back and said, “There must have been some mistake, and I can’t for the life of me make out how I come to be sitting on the ground while that black fellow’s on his legs, sniggering.”
He got to his feet again, flushing darkly, and hurled himself with a roar at his adversary, so that for a while nothing was to be heard but the fearsome cracking of bones and sinews. Then as if by magic Andy was lifted once more into the air, and the Negro tossed him backward over his shoulder, without even turning to see what became of him. The sight so horrified me that from force of habit I crossed myself. Andy staggered up on trembling legs and said, “Turn away your head, Michael; don’t look at me. I don’t understand what’s happening to me, unless I’ve fallen foul of Satan himself. But the third time’s lucky, and I’ll get a grip of this oily devil somehow, if I have to break his bones to do it.”
Once more he made a violent rush, the dust swirling about his feet. But the Negro handled him seemingly without effort, and at length grasping him by wrist and leg he began whirling him madly round and round. Then he let go, so that Andy thudded to the ground and rolled some distance in a cloud of dust. When I reached him I saw that his shoulders had been cut by the stones and that blood was pouring from his nose.
“Easy, Michael, easy,” he panted, with a face like thunder. “I tackled him carelessly, and he got the better of me by some trick.”