“That is understood,” said Harry; “but what can we do? Something should be done immediately. Every day we journey southward carries us farther from home, or the chance of ever getting there. Perhaps these Arabs may buy us, and take us north. Suppose we get the Krooman to speak to them?”
All consented to this course. The Krooman was called; and when informed of their wishes he said that he must not be seen speaking to the Arabs, or Golah would be displeased. He also stated, what the white captives had already observed, that Golah and his son were keeping a sharp watch over them, as well as over the strangers; and that an opportunity of talking to the Arab sheik might not be easily obtained.
While he was still speaking, the latter was observed proceeding towards the well to draw some water.
The Krooman instantly arose, and sauntered after.
He was observed by the quick eye of Golah, who called to him to come away; which he did, but not before quenching his thirst, that did not appear to be very great.
On the Krooman’s return from the well, he informed Harry that he had spoken to the Arab sheik. He had said, “Buy us. You will get plenty of money for us in Swearah;” and that the reply of the sheik was, “The white slaves are dogs, and not worth buying.”
“Then we have no hope from that source!” exclaimed Terence.
The Krooman shook his head; not despondently, but as if he did not agree in the opinion Terence had expressed.
“What! do you think there is any hope?” asked Harry.
The man gave a nod of assent.
“How? In what way?”
The Krooman vouchsafed no explanation, but sauntered silently away.
When the sun was within two or three hours of setting over the Saara the Arabs struck their tents and started off in the direction of the dry well, from whence Golah and his caravan had just come. After they had disappeared behind the hill, Golah’s son was sent to its top to watch them, while his women and slaves were ordered to strike the tents as quickly as possible.
Then waiting till the shades of night had descended over the desert, and the strangers were beyond the reach of vision, Golah gave orders to resume the march once more in a south-easterly direction, which would carry them away from the sea-coast, and, as the white slaves believed, from all chances of their ever recovering their freedom.
The Krooman, on the contrary, appeared to be pleased at their taking this direction, notwithstanding the objections he had expressed to going inland.
* * *
* * *
Chapter Forty Nine.
A momentous Inquiry.
During the night’s journey Golah still seemed to have some fear of the Arabs; and so great was the desire to place as much ground as possible between himself and them that he did not halt until the sun was more than two hours above the horizon.
For some time before a halt had been planned, Fatima, his favourite wife, had been riding by his side, and making what seemed from the excited movements of both an important communication.
After the tents had been pitched, and food was about being served out, Golah commanded the mother of the boy carried by Colin to produce the bag of figs that had been entrusted to her keeping.
Trembling with apprehension, the woman rose to obey. The Krooman glanced at the white captives with an expression of horror; and although they had not understood Golah’s command, they saw that something was going wrong.
The woman produced the bag, which was not quite half full. There were in it about two quarts of dried figs.
The figs that had been served out three days before at the dry well had been taken from another bag kept in the custody of Fatima.
The one now produced by the second wife should have been full; and Golah demanded to know why it was not.
The woman trembling asseverated that she and her children had eaten them.
At this confession Fatima uttered a scornful laugh, and spoke a few words that increased the terror of the delinquent mother, at the same time causing the boy to commence howling with affright.
“I tell you so,” said the Krooman, who was standing near the white slaves; “Fatima say to Golah, ‘Christian dog eat the figs;’ Golah kill him now; he kill da woman too.”
In the opinion of those who travel the great desert, about the greatest crime that can be committed is to steal food or drink, and consume either unknown to their companions of the journey.
Articles of food entrusted to the care of anyone must be guarded and preserved—even at the expense of life.
Under no circumstances may a morsel be consumed until it is produced in the presence of all, and a division, either equitable or otherwise, has been made.
Even had the story told by the woman been true, her crime would have been considered sufficiently great to have endangered her life: but her sin was greater than that.
She had bestowed favour upon a slave—a Christian dog—and had aroused the jealousy of her Mahometan lord and master.
Fatima seemed happy, for nothing less than a miracle could, in her opinion, save the life of her fellow-wife, who chanced to be a hated rival.
After drawing his scimitar from its sheath, and cocking his musket, Golah ordered all the slaves to squat themselves on the ground, and in a row.
This order was quickly comprehended and obeyed—the whites seating themselves together at one end of the line.
Golah’s son and the other guard—each with his musket loaded and cocked—were stationed in front of the row; and were ordered by the sheik to shoot any one who attempted to get up from the ground.
The monster then stepped up to Colin, and, seizing the young Scotchman by the auburn locks, dragged him a few paces apart from his companions. There, for a time, he was left alone.
Golah then proceeded to serve out some cheni to every individual on the ground, but none was given to the woman who had aroused his anger, nor to Colin.
In the sheik’s opinion, to have offered them food would have been an act as foolish as to have poured it upon the sands.
Food was intended to sustain life, and it was not designed by him that they should live much longer. And yet it was evident from his manner that he had not quite determined as to how they were to die.
The two guards, with the muskets in their grasp, kept a sharp eye on the slaves; while Golah became engaged in a close consultation with Fatima.
“What shall we do?” asked Terence; “the old villain means mischief, and how can we prevent it? We must not let him kill poor Colly.”
“We must do something immediately,” said Harry. “We have neglected it too long, and shall now have to act under the disadvantage of their being prepared for an attack. Bill, what should we do?”
“I was just thinkin’,” said Bill, “that if we all made a rush at ’em, at the words one—two—three! not more’n two or three of us might be killed before we grappled with ’em. Now, this might do, if these black fellows would only jine us.”
The Krooman here expressed himself as one willing to take his chance in any action they should propose; and believed that his countrymen would do the same. He feared, however, that the other blacks could not be trusted, and that any proposal he might make to them would be in a language the two guards would understand.
“Well, then,” said Harry, “there will be six of us against three. Shall I give the word?”
“All right!” said Terence, drawing his feet under his body, by way of preparation for rising suddenly.
The scheme was a desperate one, but all seemed willing to undertake it.
Since leaving the well, they had felt convinced that life and liberty depended on their making a struggle; though circumstances seemed to have forced that struggle upon them when there was the least hope of success.
“Now all make ready,” muttered Harry, speaking in a calm voice, so as not to excite the attention of the guards. “One!”
“Stop!” exclaimed Colin, who had been listening attentively to all that was said. “I’m not with you. We should all be killed. Two or three would be shot, and the sheik himself could finish all the rest with his scimitar. It is better for him to kill me, if he really means to do so, than to have all four destroyed in the vain hope of trying to save one.”
“It is not for you alone that we are going to act,” interposed Harry. “It is as much for ourselves.”
“Then act when there is a chance of succeeding,” pursued Colin. “You cannot save me, and will only lose your own lives.”
“De big black sheik am going to kill someb’dy, dat berry sure,” said the Krooman, as he sat with his eyes fixed upon Golah.
The latter was still in consultation with Fatima, his face wearing an expression that was horrible for all except herself to behold. Murder by excruciating torture seemed written on every feature of his countenance.
The woman, upon whose manner of death they were deliberating, was in the act of caressing her children, apparently conscious that she had but a few minutes more to remain in their company. Her features wore an expression of calm and hopeless resignation, as if she had yielded herself up to the decree of an inevitable fate.
The third wife had retired a short distance from the others. With her child in her arms, she sate upon the ground, contemplating the scene before her with a look of mingled surprise, curiosity, and regret.
From the appearance of the whole caravan, a stranger could have divined that some event of thrilling interest was about to transpire.
“Colin,” cried Terence, encouragingly, “we won’t sit here quietly and see you meet death. We had better do something while yet we have a chance. Let Harry give the word.”
“I tell you it’s madness,” expostulated Colin. “Wait till we see what he intends doing. Perhaps he’ll keep me awhile for future vengeance; and ye may have a chance of a rescue when there are not two men standing over us ready to blow our brains out.”
Colin’s companion saw there was truth in this remark; and for awhile they waited in silence, with their eyes fixed upon the tent of the sheik.
They had not long to wait, for soon after Golah came forth, having finished his consultation with Fatima.
On his face appeared a hideous smile, a smile that made most of those who beheld it shudder with a sensation of horror.
* * *
* * *
Chapter Fifty.
A living Grave.
Golah’s first act after coming forth was to take some thongs from his saddle. Having done this, he beckoned to the two who guarded the slaves, giving them some admonition in an unknown tongue. The effect was to excite their greater vigilance. The muzzles of their muskets were turned towards the white captives, and they seemed anxiously waiting the order to fire.
Golah then looked towards Terence, and made a sign for the young Irishman to get up and come towards him.
Terence hesitated.
“Go on, Terry,” muttered Colin. “He don’t mean you any harm.”
At this instant Fatima stepped out from the tent, armed with her husband’s scimitar, and apparently anxious for an opportunity of using it.
Acting under the advice of the others, Terence sprang to his feet, and advanced to the spot where the sheik was standing. The Krooman who spoke English was then called up; and Golah, taking him and the midshipman each by a hand, led them into his tent, whither they were followed by Fatima.
The sheik now addressed a few words to the Krooman, who then told Terence that his life depended on perfect obedience to Golah’s orders. His hands were to be tied, and he must not call out so as to be heard by the others.
“He say,” said the Krooman, “if you no make fight, and no make noise, he no kill you.”
The man further counselled Terence to submit quietly, saying the least resistance would lead to all the white slaves being killed.
Though possessing more than average strength and power for a youth of his age, Terence knew that, in a strife with the gigantic black sheik, he would not have the slightest chance of being victor.
Should he shout to his companions, and have them all act in concert, as they had already proposed?
No. Such an act would most likely lead to two of them being shot, to the third having his brains knocked out with the butt-end of a musket; and to the fourth, himself, being strangled in the powerful grasp of Golah, if not beheaded with the scimitar in the hands of Fatima. On reflection, the young Scotchman yielded, and permitted his hands to be tied behind his back! so, too, did the Krooman.
Golah now stepped out of the tent, and immediately after returned, leading Harry Blount along with him.
On reaching the opening, and seeing Terence and the Krooman lying bound upon the floor, the young Englishman started back, and struggled to free himself from the grasp of the hand that had hold of him. His efforts only resulted in his being instantly flung to the earth, and fast held by his powerful adversary, who at the same time was also employed in protecting his victim from the fury of Fatima.
Terence, Harry, and the Krooman were now conducted back over the ground, and placed in their former position in the row, from which they had been temporarily taken.
Sailor Bill and Colin were next treated in a similar fashion, both being fast bound like their companions.
“What does the ould divil mane?” asked Bill, when Golah was tying his hands together. “Will he murder us all?”
“No,” answered the Krooman. “He no kill but one of your party.”
His eyes turned upon Colin as he spoke.
“Colin! Colin!” exclaimed Harry; “see what you have done by opposing our plan! We are all helpless now.”
“And so much the better for yourself,” answered Colin. “You will now suffer no further harm.”
“If he means no harm, why has he bound us?” asked Bill. “It’s a queer way of showing friendship.”
“Yes, but a safe one,” answered Colin. “You cannot now bring yourselves into danger by a foolish resistance to his will.”
Terence and Harry understood Colin’s meaning; and now, for the first time, comprehended the reason why they had been bound.
It was to prevent them from interfering with Golah’s plans for the disposal of his two victims.
Now that the white slaves were secured, no danger was apprehended from the others; and the two who had been guarding them retired to the shade of a tent to refresh themselves with a drink of cheni.
While the brief conversation above related was being held, Golah had become busily engaged in overhauling the lading of one of his camels.
The object of search was soon discovered; for, the moment after, he came towards them carrying a long Moorish spade.
Two of the black slaves were then called from the line; the spade was placed in the hands of one, and a wooded dish was given to the other. They were then ordered to make a large hole in the sand; to accomplish which they at once set to work. “They are digging a grave for me, or that of the poor woman, perhaps for both of us?” suggested Colin, as he calmly gazed on the spectacle.
His companions had no doubt but that it was as he had said; and sat contemplating the scene in melancholy silence.
