The Arab hastened to the spot and cried, ‘Oh, cease making that terrible noise! Take the mare and go; but carry off the dead girl with you. She can lie quite easily across the mare’s back.’
Then Mohammed and his uncle picked up the girl, and, placing her on the mare’s back, led it away, being very careful to walk one on each side, so that she might not slip down and hurt herself. After the Arab tents could be seen no longer, the girl sat up on the saddle and looked about her, and as they were all hungry they tied up the mare, and took out some dates to eat. When they had finished, Mohammed said to his uncle: ‘Dear uncle, the maiden shall be your wife; I give her to you. But the money we got from the sheep and cows we will divide between us. You shall have two-thirds and I will have one. For you will have a wife, but I never mean to marry. And now, go in peace, for never more will you see me. The bond of bread and salt is at an end between us.’
So they wept, and fell on each other’s necks, and asked forgiveness for any wrongs in the past. Then they parted and went their ways.
[Märchen und Gedichte aus der Stadt Tripolis. Von Hans Stumme.]
