Two horseman galloped out of a black, Moroccan night, propelling fright and apprehension to grip the bus load of American tourists; we had met our fate from Berber tribesmen who seized our bus; they had kidnapped a busload of American tourists for ransom. Moorankesch, a word of warning against robbery in ancient times was not applicable to us then. We had no one to shout that word to warn us of our impending end in Morocco. Our fate was sealed with these aggressive riding horsemen who suddenly emerged out of the black night with smoking torch in the one hand, as they rode slowly ahead of our bus with rifles held high in a threatening position. They stirrup their mounts to frolic intentionally with their head reined high, whle the two Berber tribesman guide them slowly and deliberately ahead of the bus, leading the bus and its American occupants into a black, nocturnal, abyss.