SANA in breeches and short riding jacket, stood at the side of her restless steed when Carl arrived on horseback. It was an ideal day for an outing and spiritedly they trotted off to the desert.

Sana was radiantly happy at the prospect of enjoying the freedom of the desert with her lover. Too soon, far too soon, he would have to leave her and she was glad to have him alone for the day.

Her horse, the white Arab, was an exceptionally fine but nervous beast. Carl’s mount was a tame mare in comparison and Sana teased him, saying, “I bet that you cannot catch up with me.”

“All right. I’ll bet you a kiss,” Carl retorted.

“But if I win?”

“It will suit me.”

“But if I lose?”

“That will suit me also.”

“I must say, you are some sport, Carl. Don’t you want to hold the stakes too, so that you will surely be on the safe side?”

With that she chuckled to her horse and it leaped ahead with wide swinging strides, leaving Carl to follow suit. Try as he would, it was a useless task. He had to content himself with the dust clouds from the flying heels of the Arab, as it carried Sana far ahead over the burning sands.

A few miles of this and Sana slowed up a bit, so that Carl might catch up with her. With a smile she reminded him of his lost wager, which Carl promptly paid her with interest.

Proceeding again, they moved swiftly northward over the level plain. Here and there they came upon an isolated group of palm trees and small bushes, partly burned up by the hot rays of the desert sun. Otherwise, there was nothing but sand before them and a clear cloudless sky overhead. But the sand and the heat mattered not to the lovers, as riding side by side, they paved the road of their future with bricks of shining gold!

At last it was time for them to turn back. Sana knew of a shorter route home and suggested that they take it.

They trotted along for several hours, when Carl saw a dwelling in the distance. As they drew nearer they heard strains of music and Sana suggested going in and asking for refreshments.

At the gate a Berber woman asked them what they wanted. Sana told her, whereupon she led them into a dimly lighted room. They found places on the floor, apart from a group that sat near a small platform, at the side of which lounged a fierce looking fellow, playing a strange musical instrument.

Wine and cakes being served, they paused to watch a dancer who had stepped on the platform. The dancer, a girl of hardly sixteen, was very scantily clad and her dance consisted mainly of twistings of the body, accompanied with meaningful flashes of the eyes. At first she seemed rather timid, but at the shout “Cintani, put some life in it,” she distorted her body until there was no doubt as to the meaning of the emotions she was endeavoring to express—much to the delight of the Arabs in the room.

The one whose command she had so eagerly obeyed was, as Sana whispered to Carl, Amshied, a Berber chieftain, and the three husky females at his side were known to be his consorts.

After the dancer had gone, the musician placed a snake on the platform. He then commenced to charm it with the whistling of a fife, to which the snake responded readily, much to the surprise of Carl, who, not believing it would be noticed in the darkness, took Sana’s hand and pressing it to his lips, said, “That is more than a man can do to a woman.”

His act, however, was noticed by Amshied, who turning to his women said, in a low voice, “Watch that pair. One of them is a woman. If I am right, I know who she is and who wants her. At any rate they shall not leave. I’ll take care of the woman, and you three can share the man.”

Saying this, he arose from the floor and went into another room, where he knew de Rochelle was waiting. Motioning de Rochelle to the door, he nodded at Sana, asking, “Is that the one you spoke of this morning?”

“Yes. Can you manage to secure her?”

“Have I not managed many things? It shall be done. But first the gold.”

De Rochelle paid him his price and sat down to wait, believing that at last Sana was in his hands. Little knew he, however, of the plans lurking in Amshied’s skull.

When Amshied returned to his place, he spoke a few curt words to the women, who now stepped to the platform and performed amazing feats of strength, revealing the while their muscular limbs and bodies.

Sana was astounded and turned to Carl, saying, “They are regular amazons—desert amazons.”

This exhibition finished, Carl looked at his watch and seeing that it was quite late, helped Sana up from the floor and prepared to leave.

Seeing this, Amshied stepped forward, as if to escort them to the door.

Stepping on a small carpet, Sana and Carl felt the floor beneath them give way. Carl made a vain effort to throw Sana to safety, but failed when Amshied gave him a shove that sent man and woman headlong into the pit beneath. Their fall was broken by a heap of rugs beneath the trap, so that neither suffered any physical harm. The room in which they found themselves was in total darkness. Besides, it was filled with a suffocating smoke that crept into their lungs, burning and stifling them. In vain they sought means of escape, falling at last insensible to the ground.

Some minutes later, or so it seemed to him, Carl, who, although he had recovered his senses was unable to move, owing to the effects of the drugged smoke he had inhaled, saw a small door open, through which entered Amshied and the three women. The chieftain tossed Sana, who was still unconscious, over his shoulder, as if she were a mere bundle of rugs and carried her off, whither Carl knew not.

As for himself, he was left to the mercies of the three amazons. Chatting gaily among themselves, in a language unknown to Carl, they carried him upstairs to a small room. Here they threw him upon a rough couch like bed, fastening his legs and arms with shackles attached to the four legs.

Helpless, he lay there, thinking of what would happen to his beloved. What fate was in store for her? Desperately he struggled to free himself from his chains, but it was useless. He was as helpless as a pig trussed for the butcher’s knife.

To his disgust, his own position was brought clearly home to him, when the three women commenced pawing over his body, in the same way as one would examine an animal on the auction block. Resist he could not; he was forced to submit to their intimate inspection, which, he thanked his stars, did not last long. Satisfied as to his physical make-up, the women suddenly assumed various poses about his couch, vying with each other for Carl’s attention. Carl, however, rolled his head from side to side, closing his eyes to convey to them as clearly as he could his desire to have nothing to do with them.

Determined they were, however, to show their charms to their captive. One by one they came over to his corner, each trying harder than the other to arouse in him some indication of desire. Carl managed to keep his eyes tightly closed for a time, but his thoughts were too bewildered, his mind too much filled with Sana, to allow him to do so long. Opening his eyes, he saw one of the women still moving around before him. With a rage caused by disgust, Carl gave vent to a string of oaths. These had the desired effect. Perhaps the woman did not understand their meaning, but the meaning of his voice was clear. At any rate she decided not to make him any angrier and left through a small side door and bolted it.

He lay gazing around the room as best he could. Did that drapery in the far corner move? He watched closely. Yes, it was moving. What now? It was pushed aside, and through a small opening crept a figure. A woman, he perceived, but who? Coming into the light he recognized the dancer whom the Berber had called Cintani. Was he to go through another ordeal of the kind he had just been subjected to?

Maddened by his helplessness, he was about to scream out a curse, when the girl whispered, in poor French, “Keep quiet—I will help you.”

Tip-toe she crept towards him. To his relief, Carl saw that she had other intentions than to charm him. From her girdle he saw her take a key. With quick fingers the shackles were unlocked and Carl set up, free!

He could but look his thanks—he had no time for words, for again, with cautioning finger the slave-girl whispered, “The girl—the one you came with, come!”

Taking Carl’s arms she led him across the room, stopping before a great rug, suspended curtain-wise from the ceiling.

“In there,” she whispered, and was gone.

Carefully Carl moved the rug aside. It concealed a heavy wooden door. And on the other side!

Peering through a small hole in the door Carl saw Sana lying on a heap of cushions, while Amshied, back to Carl, knelt beside her, caressing and fondling her. Sana was still happily insensible to her predicament.

With an effort, Carl suppressed a cry. He felt for his revolver. He recalled, then, that the women had taken it away from him. He looked about the room. Not a thing that would serve as a weapon was to be had.

He tried the door. To his relief it was unlocked. Slowly he slid it open. A low growl, coming from somewhere at his side made him jump back in alarm. No, there was nothing in the room with him. Again a growl, accompanied with the sniffing of an animal. Desperate, Carl pulled the rug aside. To his horror he saw an iron-barred door, behind which, stretched full length on the floor, lay a huge Nubian lion—the black lion of the deserts—the king of the lion tribe. Should the lion roar or spring at the door, Carl realized with a flash, all was lost. Amshied would be aroused from his sensual desires, and all hope of rescue would disappear. To his amazement, the lion merely yawned and blinked his eyes. Often had he seen just such a scared human at the other side of his door. No need of hurrying, no need of wasting breath. Sooner or later the feast would be his!

The two doors were connected at the top by an iron rod, so fixed that when either door was slid open the other opened also. Carl saw at a glance that he could slide the one door and get into the other room before the lion had time to get out, for as soon as he was through he could close the door against the lion. But, he reasoned, suppose the lion did manage to squeeze through while he was getting into the other room. Then if there was no other available exit out of the other room, things would be worse than before. He would be trapped.

What could he do? Once more his gaze roamed about the room. His eyes rested on the couch. Yes, that might answer. His fears for Sana gave him speed. It was but the work of a moment to get that couch and prop it upright against the door of the den. Fortunately for Carl the workmanship of the door was none too good. Near the floor the masonry had fallen away, exposing the bars of the framework. Unmindful of the sniffing lion, Carl forced the chains nearest the door through the bars, secured the chains and brought them through to his side of the cage. The suddenness of his movements took the lion unawares, and it made no move at Carl, but drew slightly back in fright. The locks were snapped and Carl stood up to contemplate his work. It might do? But he had his doubts. What would happen when he opened the door to get at Amshied?

As he pondered for a moment, a cry came to his ears. Sana had awakened from her stupor to find the grinning face of Amshied close to hers.

With a smothered cry, Carl slid the door aside sufficiently to squeeze through and sprang into the room.

The lust-ridden Berber had partly torn Sana’s clothing from her, and was forcing his attentions upon her. The girl, horrified with fear, tried to free herself from his grip.

But a whirlwind was upon him. He had no time to get to his feet nor make any attempt to defend himself. With a fierce lunge Carl literally threw himself upon Amshied, forcing him to the floor.

Although taken by surprise as he was, Amshied was no weakling. Carl soon found this out when with a violent twist of his body Amshied rolled over and clutched at Carl’s throat. With a trick learned at school Carl broke the hold, but Amshied was endowed with brute strength and he seized Carl around the body with both arms. Together they rolled across the floor, bringing up with a thud against the door.

They lay in deathlike embrace for a moment, panting from their exertions. Carl realized that Amshied was more than his match so far as mere strength was concerned. To overcome his antagonist he would have to resort to trickery. Heaving a deep sigh, as if utterly exhausted and unable to continue, he let his body relax. To his delight, Amshied was fooled completely. Believing Carl to be done for, he released his hold for a moment. Brief though this respite was, it was sufficient for Carl. Feeling the arms loosen ever so slightly, he suddenly twisted around, and with a quick movement of his knees had lifted Amshied, throwing him heavily on his side. At the same time Carl pinned his opponent with a neck lock, and rolling him over, placed his knee in the small of Amshied’s back and pressed.

Amshied struggled fiercely to free himself from the encircling arm that was slowly choking him to death. His efforts, however, were useless. Carl hung on with a desperate strength.

Slowly the other weakened, his breathing became more and more strained under the pressure on his throat and back. At last his body relaxed. Apparently he was unconscious. But Carl took no chances. Still retaining his grip, he rose to his feet. Then with a mighty heave he threw the senseless man to the further end of the small room, where he fell in a huddled heap to the floor. Carl noted, then, that Amshied’s head was grotesquely twisted to one side. He would bother them no more!

Carl rushed to Sana, who had watched the struggle with bated breath. He sought to take her in his arms to carry her to freedom. But freedom was not to be theirs so soon. The three amazons were upon them. With wild shrieks they attacked Carl, who, not caring whether they were women or not, let them have the full force of his blows. Sana was at his side, with scratching nails and kicking feet. Another, too, came to their aid. Cintani coming through the door, saw the struggle and with eager fists did her best to help.

The amazons soon had enough of fighting and with wild cries ran from the room, followed by Carl, Sana in his arms. His thoughts, now, were only to get away from that devilish place. Cintani, running at his side, grasped his arm and led him through a door out into the open. Smoke was pouring from the house. Someone had set it afire.

Their horses were still tied to a palm, nearby. Sana asked to be set down, and doing so, Carl did not notice the half-naked savage who crept up behind him, felling him senseless to the ground with a blow of a club.

Before Sana or the slave-girl could make any attempt to escape the savage, now joined by three others, was upon them. Struggle as they would they were helpless in the hands of these men. Sana had often heard stories of the cavemen who were said to live in the hills of the desert. Could it be possible that these four savages were such? Nothing seemed to fit them better than that name.

If they were men they surely did not look the part. They resembled monkeys more than anything else. Squat, long armed and covered with hair, they looked like giant denizens of a tropical forest. Their protruding jaws displayed tusk-like teeth, while their receding foreheads ran back to red wool-like hair that covered their heads, shoulders and upper back.

Uttering growls, that sounded as unhuman as they looked, the larger of the four men, evidently the leader, took Sana up in his arms and started off. One of the others threw Cintani across his shoulders as if she were but an animal that had fallen victim to the chase.

Like a gift from heaven, unconsciousness came to Sana.

Carl, lying unconscious for several hours, came to in the early hours of the morning. Under the bright gleam of the desert stars he saw nothing but a heap of ashes and charred timbers—the remains of Amshied’s dwelling.

His head still reeling from the blow he had received, he crawled to his feet and looked around for some sight of his beloved one. With a shock, he discovered in the ruins, several charred skeletons, totally beyond point of recognition. Carefully he studied them, going from one to the other in an attempt to find something by which to identify them.

Bewildered he stood up, kicking the ashes aside with the toe of his boot. Good God, what was that? Sana’s necklace! He stooped to examine his find. Yes, it was the necklace Sana had worn that morning when she started out on the ride with him. He was positive it was the same, for he had examined it closely then, commenting upon its uniqueness. Was this then the end of Sana—the end of life itself? Among those charred bones, he believed, lay all that was earthly of the woman he loved!

Heart heavy with anguish, his body trembling as with the ague, he knelt in prayer. The words came slowly—it was years since he had prayed—but in his heart he knew what he wanted to say.

With shaking hands he scooped a shallow grave in the sand, and in it placed the remains of the bodies. He must be sure that Sana’s body found a grave. The tears streamed from his eyes as he carefully filled that last resting-place. The heaviest timbers he could find he laid across the grave, lest some prowling beast of the night should disturb the bodies. Above the little mound he fashioned a rude cross, from two smaller pieces of charred timber, and with a pencil he printed a marker on a piece of paper and pinned it to the cross.

Unmindful of the terrific heat of the desert sun which beat down upon him, he stumbled on, in a direction he believed would take him to the city. Luck was with him. Late that afternoon he reached Sana’s home, wild-eyed and fever-tortured.

Sana’s mother saw at a glance that some terrible accident had happened. But Carl’s parched lips craved water, and putting her fears aside for the moment she wet his lips, bathed his dust-covered face and let him drink.

Then he spoke. Slowly he told the story. The old mother seemed to age before his eyes, as she moaned, “Sana, my child. Did I not warn you?” between her tears, as she sat rocking to and fro on the floor.

The minutes grew into hours and the two still sat there in silence—a silence broken only by the moans of the mother and a frequent sob or sigh from the man.

At last Carl roused himself from his lethargy. The desert fever had spent itself—his mind was once more clear, but his heart was heavy laden.

“What should he do? Whither was he going?” ran through his mind as he stood up from his chair.

As if reading this thought, the gypsy spoke, “You have your work to do. It was willed that this should happen. It is also written that you must do your duty. Your caravan leaves tomorrow. Join it and peace be with you.”

“Yes, that is best. I could not stay here now.”

He bade her a sad farewell and going to his hotel finished his preparations for the journey. This over with, he threw himself, fully clad, upon the bed to while away those long dreadful hours before the dawn.

Sana returned to consciousness to find that the cavemen had camped for the night in a valley formed by the sand dunes. To her great relief, they did not bother about her or Cintani, but sat apart from them chattering in guttural tones, later to lie down to sleep.

Early next morning, the girls were again picked up and the savages set out with them for their home in the hills. The very thought of being clutched so tightly in the arms of the beast-like man, who held her close to him robbed her of all consciousness and she knew nothing of her travels until she came to with a start, lying on the ground with bound feet, surrounded by a strange group of men, women and children, in front of a large cave. The women and children, like the men, of whom Sana saw five, wore little or no clothing.

Physically, the women were better proportioned than the men, but they too looked more like animals than human beings. The women, however, had taken some pains to appear attractive to their men. One had a green feather stuck in her hair, while another had chosen a bunch of twigs for a headdress. All of them wore a chain of shells around their necks.

She and Cintani were subjected to close inspection on the part of the women, accompanied by guttural growls from the men, who would shove the women aside, now and then, with sweeping blows of the arm.

The curiosity of the band satisfied, the leader, who had evidently chosen Sana for his own, picked her up and carried her into the cave. This was quite large, one side of the floor being strewn with the skins of wild animals. On these Sana was thrown. The savage walked away, but returned and sat down at her side.

With leering eyes he contemplated her figure, growling in a fearful manner. Sana could not understand his words, but shivered as she realized the meaning of his gestures. He reached over to untie her feet, but the touch of his rough hands on her limbs made her desperate. Summoning her strength, she kicked him in the side.

With what might have been a chuckle, he rose to his feet and walked to the other end of the cave. Returning with a club he shook it at the girl and threw it down at her side. Fearing an attack, Sana, covering her face with her hands, shrieked pitifully.

The caveman, however, made no attempt to touch her, but after looking at her for a time, turned and left the cave.

Greatly relieved, Sana drew herself up to a sitting position and looked around the cave. In the gloom she could see little, but she noticed that on the walls behind her were drawings of animals, while here and there were bows and arrows lying among the skins on the floor.

A sound came to her ears, and looking in the direction from which it came, she could distinguish in the gloom of the cavern, a young woman tending a new-born babe.

The mother paid no attention to Sana, nor was she disturbed the rest of the day.

With nightfall, however, the whole band entered the cave, bringing Cintani with them. Cintani was thrown to the floor at Sana’s side, while the others, men, women and children, lay down in huddled heaps to sleep.

Sana’s first words to Cintani were, “Where did those brutes come from?”

“About a week ago Amshied and his gang, who luckily were away, when you were there, returned with them. What he wanted to do with them, I do not know, but he kept them locked up in a room. I believe he was afraid of them himself. They must have escaped in the fire.”

“But what will become of us?”

“I believe I have a way. I had no love for Amshied. I was sold to him as a slave. One day I stole a vial of poison, intending to kill myself. My courage failed me, but ever since that day I have carried it with me. I have it now. If I ever get the chance I shall poison them.”

“If you only could. But how could we get away from here? We would never find our way.”

“But our horses are here. I saw them. They brought them along too.”

Overjoyed with these words, Sana started to say something, but was interrupted by the arrival of one of the men, who taking Cintani in his arms, carried her to the darkness of the other side of the cave.

Shutting her eyes, Sana put her hands over her ears to keep out any sound. Suddenly she was aware of someone at her side. Horrified, she felt a pair of hands steal over her. Looking, she saw her captor lying at her side. Without a word he reached down and released her feet. Again those hands upon her! With a cry she rolled over on her face, fearful of her fate. Much to her surprise the savage, after a few attempts to fondle her, retied her feet and hitting her some glancing blows, he shuffled off into the darkness.

Exhausted though she was, Sana lay awake the entire night. Fear kept her from sleeping, fear of what might happen.

At daybreak the savages left the cave, taking Cintani with them. Sana they did not bother about, although one of the men stopped to stare at her on his way out.

Try as she would she could not keep awake any longer. Sleep came, dreamless sleep!

Someone was shaking her gently. Rousing herself, Sana looked up. Cintani was bending over her, smiling happily.

“We are safe now, dear. The poison has done its work.”

Sana, comforted, yet surprised, “How did you do it?”

Tears welled in the girl’s eyes as she brokenly whispered, “After what happened last night I supposed the women considered me one of them. They made me help with the food. That gave me my chance.”

Sana wanted to take the weeping girl in her arms, but Cintani would not let her.

“There is no time to be lost,” she urged, “Come, let us get out of this. I have food and water.”

Once out of the cave, Sana saw that Cintani was right. The cave people were lying on the ground, apparently asleep, but theirs was an eternal slumber.

With delighted eyes, Sana saw the two horses. Quickly the girls mounted and rode off in the clear moonlight. Sana gave her horse his head, knowing that his instinct would tell him the way.

All that night their swift mounts put the miles under their feet. The desert stars, which had guided Sana, had disappeared and the sun, coming up from behind the dunes, saw the two girls riding wildly homeward, till night fell, then they rested for a few hours. Early in the morning they started out again.

Suddenly Sana’s horse shied at something lying on the ground. A man was lying in the sand, face upward, writhing in the fever of thirst. Dismounting, Sana saw at a glance it was de Rochelle. He pleaded for help. At first she was tempted to ride on and leave him to his fate. But a kindlier thought prompted her to reach for her canteen which still hung intact at the saddle.

After administering a little water to the suffering man, she and Cintani managed to lift him across her horse and again they resumed their way.

Late in the afternoon the following day they came upon the remains of the Berber’s house.

Sana dismounted, looking about for some trace of Carl, whom she had seen felled with the blow of the caveman’s club. No sign of him was to be seen, but she presently became aware of a figure kneeling before a cross of charred timbers.

She saw it was a woman, and walking quickly towards her gave voice to the cry, “Mother!”

At the sound the woman took her hands from her face, and rising to her feet, shrieked, “Sana, my Sana!”

Mother and daughter embraced each other, tears in their eyes, murmuring words of endearment.

Sana, at last, eager for news of Carl, asked her mother whether she had seen or heard of him. In response the mother pointed to the cross—to which was pinned a note. Sana, stricken with fear that Carl was beneath the ruins, rushed to the cross, and taking the paper in her hand, read:

HERE LIES MY BELOVED
SANA VON SECKT
REST IN PEACE
CARL

“Then he is alive?” turning to her mother with eager eyes.

“Yes, beloved, he is alive. He is now on the great desert. He thought you dead and came to tell me. Then he went away.”

De Rochelle, still weak and exhausted, had gotten from the horse, and came over to Sana.

“Sana, I did not believe you would ever do me the kindness you did. Please forgive me for what I have done. It was I who set fire to this place. I realized that harm might come to you through Amshied, so I set fire to the house, thinking I could help you in that way. I saw the savages take you away, and tried to follow, but fell exhausted. Please, forgive me, Sana, won’t you?”

Without a word Sana turned away. Plead he might, but her forgiveness he would never have. The water she gave him on the desert, she felt, repaid him well enough—had she refused it, he would now have been claimed by the sun and the sand as their own. And in her woman’s mind she knew that he had more to do with the escapade at the home of Amshied than he cared to tell.

Safe at home that night she wrote Carl at his New York address, telling him that she was alive.