owner of the tent aside. ‘Your greyhound will eat my strip of leather,’ he said to the Arab.
‘No; do not fear.’
‘But supposing he does?’
‘Well, then, I will give him to you in exchange,’ replied the Arab.
Mohammed waited till everyone was fast asleep, then he rose softly, and tearing the bit of skin in pieces, threw it down before the greyhound, setting up wild shrieks as he did so.
‘Oh, master, said I not well that your dog would eat my thong?’
‘Be quiet, don’t make such a noise, and you shall have the dog.’
So Mohammed put a leash round his neck, and led him away.
In the evening they arrived at the tents of some more Bedouin, and asked for shelter. After supper Mohammed said to the owner of the tent, ‘Your ram will kill my greyhound.’
‘Oh, no, he won’t.’
‘And supposing he does?’
‘Then you can take him in exchange.’
So in the night Mohammed killed the greyhound, and laid his body across the horns of the ram. Then he set up shrieks and yells, till he roused the Arab, who said: ‘Take the ram and go away.’
Mohammed did not need to be told twice, and at sunset he reached another Bedouin encampment. He was received kindly, as usual, and after supper he said to his host: ‘Your daughter will kill my ram.’
‘Be silent, she will do nothing of the sort; my daughter does not need to steal meat, she has some every day.’
‘Very well, I will go to sleep; but if anything happens to my ram I will call out.’
‘If my daughter touches anything belonging to my
