Two fleet horses were instantly saddled and mounted; one by the owner of the camel that had been stolen, and the other by the owner of the slave who had stolen it.
Each, arming himself with musket and scimitar, felt sure of recapturing the runaway. Their only doubt arose from the knowledge of the swiftness of the maherry, and that its rider was favoured by the approaching darkness.
The whole encampment was by this time under arms; and after the departure of the pursuers, the sheik gathered all the slaves together, and swore by the beard of the Prophet that they should all be killed, and that he would set the example by killing the two belonging to himself, which were Harry Blount and the Krooman. Several of his followers proceeded to relieve their excitement by each beating the slave or slaves that were his own property, and amongst these irate slave-owners was the master of Sailor Bill. The old man-o’-war’s-man was cudgelled till his objections to involuntary servitude were loudly expressed, and in the strongest terms that English, Scotch, and Irish could furnish for the purpose.
When the rage of the old sheik had to some extent subsided, he procured a leathern thong, and declared that his two slaves should be fast bound, and never released as long as they remained in his possession.
“Talk to him,” exclaimed Harry to the Krooman: “tell him, in his own language, that God is great, and that he is a fool! We don’t wish to escape—certainly not at present.”
Thus counselled, the Krooman explained to the sheik that the white slaves, as well as himself, who had sailed in English ships, had no intention of running away, but wished to be taken north, where they might be ransomed; and that they were not such fools as to part from him in a place where they would certainly starve. The Krooman also informed the sheik that they were all very glad at being taken out of the hands of Golah, who would have carried them to Timbuctoo, whence they never could have returned, but must have ended their days in slavery.
While the Krooman was talking to the sheik several of the others came up and listened. The black further informed them that the white slaves had friends living in Agadeer and Swearah (Santa Cruz and Mogador)—friends who would pay a large price to ransom them. Why, then, should they try to escape while journeying towards the place where those friends were living?
The Krooman went on to say that the young man who had just made off was Golah’s brother-in-law; that, unlike themselves, in going north he would not be seeking freedom but perpetual slavery, and for that reason he had gone to rejoin Golah and his son.
This explanation seemed so reasonable to the Arabs that their fears for the safety of their slaves soon subsided, and the latter were permitted to repose in peace.
As a precautionary measure, however, two men were kept moving in a circle around the douar throughout the whole of the night; but no disturbance arose, and morning returned without bringing back the two men who had gone in pursuit of the cunning runaway.
The distance to the next watering-place was too great to admit of any delay being made; and the journey was resumed, in the hope that the two missing men would be met on the way.
This hope was realised.
All along the route, the old sheik, who rode in advance, kept scanning the horizon, not only ahead, but to the right and left of their course. About ten miles from their night’s halting-place he was seen to swerve suddenly from his course, and advance towards something that had attracted his attention. His followers hastened after him—all except the two women and their children, who lingered a long way behind.
Lying on the ground, their bodies contiguous to each other, were the two Arabs who had gone in pursuit of the runaway.
They were both dead.
One of them had been shot with a musket-ball that had penetrated his skull, entering directly between his temples. The other had been cut down with a scimitar, his body being almost severed in twain.
The youth who had fled the night before, had evidently come up with Golah and his son; and the two men who had pursued him and lost their lives, their animals, muskets, and scimitars.
Golah now had two accomplices, and the three were well mounted and well-armed.
The anger of the Arabs was frightful to behold. They turned towards the two women whom they knew to be Golah’s wives. The latter had thrown themselves on their knees, and were screaming and supplicating for mercy.
Some of the Arabs would have killed them on the instant; but were prevented by the old sheik, who, although himself wild with rage, had still sufficient reason left to tell him that the unfortunate women were not answerable for the acts of their husband. Our adventurers found reason to regret the misfortune that had befallen their new masters; for they could not but regard with alarm the returning power of Golah.
“We shall fall into his hands again,” exclaimed Terence. “He will kill all these Arabs, one after another, and obtain all he has lost, ourselves included. We shall yet be driven to Timbuctoo.”
“Then we should deserve it,” cried Harry, “for it will partly be our own fault if ever we fall into Golah’s power again.”
“I don’t think so,” said Bill; “Golah is a wondersome man, and ’as got somethin’ more nor human natur’ to ’elp ’im. I think as ’ow if we should see ’im ’alf a mile off signalisin’ for us to follow ’im, we should ’ave to go. I’ve tried my hand at disobeyin’ his orders, and don’t do it again, not if I knows it.”
The expressions of anger hitherto portrayed on the countenances of the Arabs had given place to those of anxiety. They knew that an enemy was hovering around them, an enemy whom they had wronged, whose power they had undervalued, and whom they had foolishly restored to liberty.
The bodies of their companions were hastily interred in the sand, and their journey northward was once more resumed.
* * *
* * *
Chapter Fifty Seven.
A Call for two more.
The sufferings of slaves for water and food again commenced, while the pace at which they were compelled to travel, to keep up with the camels, soon exhausted the little strength they had acquired from the rest by the well.
During the long afternoon following the burial of the two Arabs, each of the boy slaves at different times declared his utter inability to proceed any further.
They were mistaken; and had yet to learn something of the power which love of life exerts over the body.
They knew that to linger behind would be death. They did not desire to die, and therefore struggled on.
Like men upon a treadmill, they were compelled to keep on moving, although neither able nor willing.
The hour of sunset found them wading through sand that had lately been stirred by a storm. It was nearly as light and loose as snow; and the toil of moving through it was so wearisome that the mounted Arabs, having some pity on those who had walked, halted early for the night. Two men were appointed to guard the camp in the same manner as upon the night before; and with the feelings of hunger and thirst partly appeased, weary with toils of day, our adventurers were soon in a sound slumber. Around them, and half buried in the soft sand, lay stretched the other denizens of the douar, all slumbering likewise.
Their rest remained undisturbed until that darkest hour of the night, just before the dawning of day. They were then startled from sleep by the report of a musket, a report that was immediately followed by another in the opposite direction. The douar was instantly in wild confusion.
The Arabs seized their weapons, and rushed forth from among the tents.
One of the party that ran in the direction in which the first shot was heard, seeing a man coming towards them, in the excitement of the moment fired his musket and shot the individual who was advancing, who proved to be one of those entrusted with the guard of the camp.
No enemies could be discovered. They had fled, leaving the two camp guards in the agonies of death.
Some of the Arabs would have rushed wildly hither and thither in search of the unseen foe, but were prevented by the sheik, who, fearing that all would be lost, should the douar be deserted by the armed men, shouted the signal for all his followers to gather around him.
The two wounded men were brought into a tent, where, in a few minutes, one of them, the man who had been shot by one of his companions, breathed his last. He had also received a wound from the first shot that had been heard, his right arm having been shattered by a musket-ball.
The spine of the other guard had been broken by a bullet, so that recovery was clearly impossible.
He had evidently heard the first shot fired at his companion from the opposite side of the camp; and was turning his back upon the foe that had attacked himself.
The light of day soon shone upon the scene, and they were able to perceive how their enemies had approached so near the camp without being observed.
About a hundred paces from where the guards had been standing at the time the first two shots were fired, was a furrow or ravine running through the soft sand.
This ravine branched into two lesser ones, including within their angle the Arab camp, as also the sentinels stationed to guard it.
Up the branches the midnight murderers had silently stolen, each taking a side; and in this way had got within easy distance of the unsuspecting sentries.
In the bottom of one of the furrows, where the sand was more firmly compacted, was found the impression of human footsteps.
The tracks had been made by some person hurriedly leaving the spot.
“Dis be de track ob Golah,” said the Krooman to Harry, after he had examined it. “He make um when runnin’ ’way after he fire da musket.”
“Very likely,” said Harry; “but how do you know it is Golah’s track?”
“’Cause Golah hab largess feet in all de world, and no feet but his make dat mark.”
“I tell you again,” said Terence, who overheard the Krooman’s remark, “we shall have to go with Golah to Timbuctoo. We belong to him. These Arabs are only keeping us a few days, but they will be killed yet, and we shall have to follow the black sheik in the opposite direction.”
Harry made no reply to this prophetic speech. Certainly there was a prospect of its proving true.
Four Arabs out of the eleven, of which their party was originally composed, were already dead, while still another was dying!
Sailor Bill pronounced Golah, with his son and brother-in-law, quite a match for the six who were left. The black sheik, he thought, was equal to any four of their present masters in strength, cunning, and determination.
“But the Arabs have us to help them,” remarked Colin. “We should count for something.”
“So we do, as merchandise,” replied Harry; “we have hitherto been helpless as children in protecting ourselves. What can we do? The boasted superiority of our race or country cannot be true here in the desert. We are out of our element.”
“Yes, that’s sartin!” exclaimed Bill; “but we’re not far from it. Shiver my timbers, if I don’t smell salt water! Be jabers! if we go on towards the west we shall see the say afore night.”
During this dialogue the Arabs were holding a consultation as to what they should do.
To divide the camp, and send some after their enemies, was pronounced impolitic; the party sent in pursuit, and that left to guard the caravan, either would be too weak if attacked by their truculent enemy.
In union alone was strength, and they resolved to remain together, believing that they should have a visit from Golah again, while better prepared to receive him.
The footprints leading out from the two ravines were traced for about a mile in the direction they wished to follow.
The tracks of camels and horses were there found; and they could tell by the signs that their enemies had mounted and ridden off towards the west.
They possibly might have avoided meeting Golah again by going eastward; but, from their knowledge of the desert, no water was to be found in that direction in less than five days’ journey.
Moreover, they did not yet wish to avoid him. They thirsted for revenge, and were impatient to move on; for a journey of two days was still before them before they could hope to arrive at the nearest water.
When every preparation had been made to resume their route, there was one obstacle in the way of their taking an immediate departure.
Their wounded companion was not yet defunct. They saw it would be impossible for him to live much longer; for the lower part of his body, all below the shattered portion of the spine, appeared already without life. A few hours at most would terminate his sufferings; but for the expiration of those few hours, or minutes, as fate should decide, his companions seemed unwilling to wait.
They dug a hole in the sand near where the wounded man was lying. This was but the work of a few minutes. As soon as the grave was completed, the eyes of all were once more turned upon the wretched sufferer.
He was still alive, and by piteous moans expressing the agony he was enduring.
“Bismillah!” exclaimed the old sheik, “why do you not die, my friend? We are waiting for the fulfilment of your destiny.”
“I am dead,” ejaculated the sufferer, speaking in a faint voice, and apparently with great difficulty.
Having said this, he relapsed into silence and remained motionless as a corpse.
The sheik then placed one hand upon his temples. “Yes!” he exclaimed, “the words of our friend are those of truth and wisdom. He is dead.”
The wounded man was then rolled into the cavity which had been scooped out, and they hastily proceeded to cover him with sand.
As they did so, his hands were repeatedly uplifted, while a low moaning came from his lips; but his movements were apparently unseen, and his cries of agony unnoticed.
His companions remained both deaf and blind to any evidence that might refute his own assertion that he was dead.
The sand was at length heaped up so as to completely cover his body, when by an order from the old sheik his followers turned away from the spot and the kafila moved on.
* * *
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Chapter Fifty Eight.
Once more by the Sea.
Sailor Bill’s conjecture that they were not far from the sea proved correct.
On the evening of that same day they saw the sun sink down into a shining horizon, which they knew was not that of the burning sand-plain over which they had been so long moving.
That faint and distant view of his favourite element was a joyful moment for the old sailor.
“We are in sight of home!” he exclaimed. “Shiver my timbers if I ever lose sight of it again! I shan’t be buried in the sand. If I must go under alive, it shall be under water, like a Christyun. If I could swim, I’d start right off for Hold Hingland as soon as we get to yonder shore.”
The boy slaves were alike inspired with hope and joy at the distant view.
