It is not I who load the guns with bullets made of soft black-lead, as the _Effendi_ Robert-Houdin did long ago to the confusion of the Marabouts in Algeria.

No, let thy men load their own rifles.

But," and his voice grew mocking, "let their aim be good.
Death is nothing, O Bara Miyan, but clumsy shooting means much pain." His tone galled the aged Sheik, despite that impassive exterior.

Bara Miyan beckoned, and with a command brought six riflemen from their horses.
"Load well, and shoot me this Frank!" exclaimed the Olema.

A fire was burning in his eyes.
"_Aywa_!" (Even so!) replied one of the riflemen.