There was not much to cheer them on their way, only the thought that they had so adroitly extricated themselves from a dread danger. But even this proved only a fanciful consolation: for scarce had they made a score of steps along the strand, when they were brought to a sudden halt, by hearing a noise that appeared to proceed from the ravine behind them.
It was a slight noise, something like a snort, apparently made by some animal; and for a moment, they supposed it to come from the ugly quadruped that, after saluting them, had retreated up the gorge.
On turning their eyes in that direction, they at once saw that they were mistaken. A quadruped had produced the noise, but one of a very different kind from the hairy brute with which they had parted. Just emerging from the shadow of the sand-hills, they perceived a huge creature, whose uncouth shape proclaimed it to be a camel.
The sight filled them with consternation. Not that it was a camel; but because, at the same time, they discovered that there was a man upon its back, who brandishing a long weapon, was urging the animal towards them.
The three midshipmen made no effort to continue the journey thus unexpectedly interrupted. They saw that any attempt to escape from such a fast-going creature would be idle. Encumbered as they were with their wet garments, they could not have distanced a lame duck; and, resigning themselves to the chances of destiny, they stood awaiting the encounter.
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Chapter Thirty Two.
A cunning Sheik.
When the camel and its rider first loomed in sight, indistinctly seen under the shadow of the sand-dunes, our adventurers had conceived a faint hope that it might be Sailor Bill.
It was possible, they thought, that the old man-o’-war’s-man, left unguarded in the camp, might have laid hands on the maherry that had made away with him, and pressed it into service to assist his escape.
The hope was entertained only for a instant. Bill had encountered no such golden opportunity, but was still a prisoner in the tent of the black sheik, surrounded by his shrewish tormentors. It was the maherry, however, that was seen coming back; for as it came near, the three middies recognised the creature whose intrusion upon their slumbers of the preceding night had been the means, perhaps, of saving their lives.
Instead of a Jack Tar now surmounting its high hunch, they saw a little weazen-faced individual, with sharp angular features, and a skin of yellowish hue puckered like parchment. He appeared to be at least sixty years of age; while his costume, equipments, and above all, a certain authoritative bearing, bespoke him to be one of the head men of the horde.
Such in truth was he—one of the two sheiks—the old Arab to whom the straying camel belonged; and who was now mounted on his own maherry.
His presence on the strand at this, to our adventurers, most inopportune moment, requires explanation.
He had been on the beach before, along with the others; and had gone away with the rest. But instead of continuing on to the encampment, he had fallen behind in the ravine; where, under the cover of some rocks, and favoured by the obscure light within the gorge, he had succeeded in giving his comrades the slip. There he had remained, permitting the rest to recross the ridge, and return to the tents.
He had not taken these steps without an object. Less superstitious than his black brother sheik, he knew that there must be some natural explanation of the disappearance of the three castaways; and he determined to seek, and if possible, discover it.
It was not mere curiosity that prompted him to this determination. He had been all out of sorts with himself since losing Sailor Bill in the game of helga; and he was desirous of obtaining some compensation for his ill luck, by capturing the three castaways who had so mysteriously disappeared.
As to their having either drowned themselves, or walked away over the waste of waters, the old sheik had seen too many Saaran summers and winters to give credence either to one tale or the other. He knew they would turn up again; and though he was not quite certain of the where, he more than half suspected it. He had kept his suspicions to himself, not imparting them even to his own special followers. By the laws of the Saara, a slave taken by any one of the tribe belongs not to its chief but to the individual who makes the capture. For this reason had the cunning sexagenarian kept his thoughts to himself, and fallen solus into the rear of the returning horde.
It might be supposed that he would have made some of his following privy to his plan, for the sake of having help to effect such a wholesale capture. But no. His experience as a “Barbary wrecker” had taught him that there would be no danger, no likelihood of resistance, even though the castaways numbered thirty instead of three.
Armed with this confidence, and his long gun, he had returned down the ravine; and laid in wait near its mouth, at a point where he commanded a view of the coast line, to the distance of more than a mile on each side of him.
His vigil was soon rewarded by seeing the three individuals for whom it had been kept step forth from the sea, as if emerging from its profoundest depths, and stand conspicuously upon the beach.
He waited for nothing more; but, giving the word to his maherry, had ridden out of the ravine, and was now advancing with all speed upon the tracks of the retreating mids.
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Chapter Thirty Three.
A queer Encounter.
In about threescore seconds from the time he was first seen pursuing them, the old sheik was up to the spot where our adventurers had awaited him.
His first salute appeared to be some words of menace or command, rendered more emphatic by a series of gestures made with his long gun; which was successively pointed at the heads of the three. Of course, none of them understood what was said; but his gesticulations made it clear enough that he required their company to the Arab encampment.
Their first impulse was to yield obedience to this command; and Terence had given a sign of assent, which was acquiesced in by Colin. Not so Master Blount, in whom the British bulldog had become aroused even to the showing of his teeth.
“See him hanged first!” cried Harry. “What! yield up to an old monkey like that, and walk tamely to the camp at the tail of his camel? No such thing! If I am to become a prisoner, it will be to one who can take me.”
Terence, rather ashamed at having shown such facile submission, now rushed to the opposite extreme; and drawing his dirk, cried out, “By Saint Petrick! I’m with you, Harry! Let’s die, rather than yield ourselves prisoners to such a queer old curmudgeon!”
Colin, before declaring himself, glanced sharply around, carrying his eye towards the embouchure of the ravine, to assure himself that the Arab was alone.
As there was nobody else in sight, and no sound heard that would indicate the proximity of any one, it was probable enough that the rider of the maherry was the only enemy opposed to them.
“The deil take him!” cried Colin, after making his cautious reconnaissance. “If he take us, he must first fight for it. Come on, old skinflint! you’ll find we’re true British tars, ready for a score such as you!”
The three youths had by this time unsheathed their shining daggers, and thrown themselves into a sort of triangle, the maherry in their midst.
The old sheik, unprepared for such a reception, was altogether taken aback by it; and for some seconds sate upon his high perch seemingly irresolute how to act.
Suddenly his rage appeared to rise to such a pitch that he could no longer command his actions; and bringing the long gun to his shoulder, he levelled it at Harry Blount, who had been foremost in braving him.
The stream of smoke, pouring forth from its muzzle, for a moment enveloped the form of the youthful mariner; but from the midst of that sulphury nimbus came forth a clear manly voice, pronouncing the word “Missed!”
“Thank God!” cried Terence and Colin, in a breath; “now we have him in our power! He can’t load again! Let’s on him altogether! Heave he!”
And uttering this nautical phrase of encouragement, the three mids, with naked dirks, rushed simultaneously towards the maherry.
The Arab, old as he may have been, showed no signs either of stiffness or decrepitude. On the contrary, he exhibited all the agility of a tiger-cat; along with a fierce determination to continue the combat he had initiated, notwithstanding the odds that were against him. On discharging his gun, he had flung the useless weapon to the ground; and instead of it now grasped a long curving scimitar, with which he commenced cutting around him in every direction.
Thus armed, he had the advantage of his assailants; for while he might reach any one of them by a quick cut, they with their short dirks could not come within thrusting distance of him, without imminent danger of having their arms, or perchance their heads, lopped sheer off their shoulders.
Defensively, too, had the rider of the maherry an advantage over his antagonists. While within distance of them, at the point of his curving blade, seated upon his high perch, he was beyond the reach of their weapons. Get close to him as they might, and spring as high as they were able, they could not bring the tips of their daggers in contact with his skin.
In truth, there seemed no chance for them to inflict the slightest wound upon him; while at each fresh wheel of the maherry, and each new sweep of the scimitar, one or other of them was in danger of decapitation.
On first entering upon the fight, our adventurers had not taken into account the impregnable position of their antagonist. Soon, however, did they discover the advantages in his favour, with their own proportionate drawbacks. To neutralise these was the question that now occupied them. If something was not done soon, one or other, perhaps all three, would have to succumb to that keen cutting of the scimitar.
“Let’s kill the camel!” cried Harry Blount, “that’ll bring him within reach; and then—”
The idea of the English youth was by no means a bad one; and perhaps would have been carried out. But before he could finish his speech, another scheme had been conceived by Terence, who had already taken steps towards its execution.
It was this that had interrupted Harry Blount in the utterance of his counsel.
At school the young Milesian had been distinguished in the exercise of vaulting. Leap-frog had been his especial delight; and no mountebank could bound to a greater height than he. At this crisis he remembered his old accomplishment, and called it to his aid.
Seeking an opportunity, when the head of the maherry was turned towards his comrades, and its tail to himself he made an energetic rush; sprang half a score of feet from the ground; and flinging apart his feet, while in the air, came down, stride legs upon the croup of the camel.
It was fortunate for the old Arab that the effort thus made by the amateur saltimbanque had shaken the dirk from his grasp, else, in another instant, the camel would have ceased to “carry double.”
As it was, its two riders continued upon its back; but in such close juxtaposition, that it would have required sharp eyes and a good light to tell that more than one individual was mounted upon it.
Fast enfolded in the arms of the vigorous young Hibernian, could scarce be distinguished the carcase of the old Arab sheik, shrunken to half size by the powerful compression; while the scimitar, so late whistling with perilous impetuosity through the air, was now seen lying upon the sand, its gleam no longer striking terror into the hearts of those whose heads it had been threatening to lop off.
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Chapter Thirty Four.
Holding on to the Hump.
The struggle between Terence and the sheik still continued, upon the back of the maherry. The object of the young Irishman was to unhorse, or rather uncamel, his antagonist, and get him to the ground.
This design the old Arab resisted toughly, and with all his strength, knowing that dismounted he would be no match for the trio of stout lads whom he had calculated on capturing at his ease. Once à pied he would be at their mercy, since he was now altogether unarmed. His gun had been unloaded; and the shining scimitar, of which he had made such a dangerous display, was no longer in his grasp. As already stated it had fallen to the ground, and at that precious moment was being picked up by Colin; who in all probability would have used it upon its owner, had not the latter contrived to escape beyond its reach.
The mode of the sheik’s escape was singular enough. Still tenaciously holding on to the hump, from which the young Irishman was using every effort to detach him, he saw that his only chance of safety lay in retreating from the spot, and, by this means, separating the antagonist who clutched him from the two others that threatened upon the ground below.
A signal shout to the maherry was sufficient to effect his purpose. On hearing it the well-trained quadruped wheeled, as upon a pivot, and in a shambling, but quick pace, started back towards the ravine, whence it had late issued.
To their consternation, Colin and Harry beheld this unexpected movement; and before either of them could lay hold of the halter, now trailing along the sand, the maherry was going at a rate of speed which they vainly endeavoured to surpass. They could only follow in its wake, as they did so, shouting to Terence to let go his hold of the sheik, and take his chance of a tumble to the ground.
Their admonitions appeared not to be heeded. They were not needed, at least after a short interval had elapsed.
At first the young Irishman had been so intent on his endeavours to dismount his adversary that he did not notice the signal given to the maherry, nor the retrograde movement it had inaugurated. Not until the camel was re-entering the ravine, and the steep sides of the sand-dunes cast their dark shadows before him, did he observe that he was being carried away from his companions.
Up to this time he had been vainly striving to detach the sheik from his hold upon the hump. On perceiving the danger, however, he desisted from this design, and at once entered upon a struggle of a very different kind, to detach himself.
In all probability this would have proved equally difficult: for struggle as he might, the tough old Arab, no longer troubling himself about the control of his camel, had twisted his sinewy fingers under the midshipman’s dirk-belt, and held the latter in juxtaposition to his own body, supported by the hump of the maherry, as if his very life depended on not letting go.
A lucky circumstance, and this only, hindered the young Irishman from being carried to the Arab encampment: a circumstance very similar to that which on the preceding night had led to the capture of that same camel.
Its halter was again trailing.
Its owner, occupied with the “double” which it had so unexpectedly been called upon to carry, was conducting it only by his voice, and had neither thought nor hands for the halter.
