It had occurred to us that kidnapping would be less easy there, as we could make some sort of a fight at the head of the stairway, or, if the worst came to the worst, dive from the parapet and break our necks.

We kept watch turn and turn about.

During my watch about midnight I heard a noise going on in the hut behind us; scuffling and a stifled cry which turned my blood cold.
About an hour later a fire was lighted in the centre of the market-place where the sheep had been sacrificed, and by the flare of it I could see people moving.

But what they did I could not see, which was perhaps as well.
Next morning only one of the camelmen was left.

This remaining man was now almost crazy with fear, and could give no clear account of what had happened to his companion.
The poor fellow implored us to take him away to our house, as he feared to be left alone with "the black devils." We tried to do so, but armed guards appeared mysteriously and thrust him back into his own hut.
This day was an exact repetition of the others.