The chance was worth the risk, so thought Golah, and silently moved on.
As he drew nearer he saw that the man was lying on on his side with his face turned towards him, and partly concealed by one arm.
The black sheik could see no gun in his hands; and consequently there would be but little danger in an encounter with him, if such should chance to arise.
Golah grasped the heavy scimitar in his right-hand, evidently intending to despatch his victim, as he had done the other, with a single blow.
The head could be severed from the body at one stroke, and no alarm would be given to the slumbering camp.
The heavy blade of shining steel was raised aloft; and the grip of the powerful hand clutching its hilt became more firm and determined.
Sailor Bill! has your promise to keep a sharp look-out been broken so soon?
Beware! Golah is near, with strength in his arm, and murder in his mind!
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Chapter Sixty.
Sailor Bill standing Sentry.
After two hours had been passed in moving slowly to and fro, hearing the word “Akka,” and seeing nothing but grey sand, Sailor Bill began to feel weary, and now regretted that the old sheik had honoured him with his confidence.
For the first hour of his watch he had kept a good look-out to the eastward, and had given the whole of his attention to his sentinel’s duty.
Gradually his intense alertness forsook him, and he began to think or the past and future.
Themes connected with these subjects seldom troubled Bill, his thoughts generally dwelling upon the present; but, in the darkness and solitude in which he was now placed, there was but little of the present to arrest his attention. For the want of something else to amuse his mind, it was turned to the small cannon he was carrying in his hand.
“This ’ere thing,” thought he, “ain’t o’ much use as a pistol, though it might be used as a war-club at close quarters. I hope I shan’t ’ave to fire it hoff. The barrel is thin, and the bullet hinside it must be a’most as large as an ’en’s hegg. It ’ud be like enough to bust. Preaps ’tain’t loaded, and may ’ave been given to me for amusement. I may as well make sure about that.”
After groping about for some time, the sailor succeeded in finding a small piece of stick, with which he measured the length of the barrel on the outside; then, by inserting the stick into the muzzle, he found that the depth of the barrel was not quite equal to its length.
There was something inside therefore, but he was positive there was no ball. He next examined the pan, and found the priming all right.
“I see ’ow ’tis,” muttered he, “the old sheik only wants me to make a row with it, in case I sees anything as is suspicious. He was afeared to put a ball in it lest I should be killin’ one of themselves. That’s his confidence. He only wants me to bark without being able to bite. But this don’t suit me at all, at all. Faix, I’ll find a bit of a stone and ram it into the barrel.”
Saying this, he groped about the ground in search of a pebble of the proper size; but for some time could find none to his liking. He could lay his hand on nothing but the finest sand.
While engaged in this search he fancied he heard some one approaching from the side opposite to that in which he was expecting to hear the word “Akka.”
He looked in that direction, but could see nothing save the grey surface of the sea-beach.
Since being on the desert Bill had several times observed the Arabs lay themselves along the earth to listen for the sound of footsteps. This plan he now tried himself.
With his eyes close to the ground, the old sailor fancied he was able to see to a greater distance than when standing upright. There seemed to be more light on the surface of the earth than at four or five feet above it; and objects in the distance were placed more directly between his eyes and the horizon.
While thus lying extended along the sand, he heard footsteps approaching from the shore; but, believing they were those of the sentinel, he paid no attention to them. He only listened for a repetition of those sounds he fancied to have come from the opposite direction.
But nothing was now heard to the eastward; and he came to the conclusion that he had been deceived by an excited fancy.
Of one thing, however, he soon became certain. It was, that the footsteps which he supposed to be those of the Arab who kept what Bill called the “larboard watch”, were drawing nearer than usual, and that the word “Akka” was not pronounced as before.
The old sailor slewed himself around and directed his gaze towards the shore.
The sound of footsteps was no longer heard, but the figure of a man was perceived at no great distance from the spot.
He was not advancing nearer, but standing erect, and apparently gazing sharply about him.
Could this man be the Arab sentinel?
The latter was known to be short and of slight frame, while the man now seen appeared tall and of stout build. Instead of remaining in his upright attitude, and uttering, as the sentry should have done, the word “Akka,” the stranger was seen to stoop down, and place his ear close to the earth as if to listen.
During a moment or two, while the man’s eyes appeared to be turned away from him, the sailor took the precaution to fill the barrel of his pistol with sand.
Should he give the alarm by firing off the pistol, and then run towards the camp?
No! he might have been deceived by an excited imagination. The individual before him might possibly be the Arab guard trying to discover his presence before giving the sign.
While the sailor was thus undecided, the huge form drew nearer, approaching on all-fours. It came within eight or ten paces of the spot, and then slowly assumed an upright position. Bill now saw it was not the sentinel but the black sheik!
The old man-o’-war’s-man was never more frightened in his life. He thought of discharging the pistol, and running back to the douar; but then came the thought that he would certainly be shot down the instant he should rise to his feet; and fear held him motionless.
Golah drew nearer and nearer, and the sailor seeing the scimitar uplifted suddenly formed the resolution to act.
Projecting the muzzle of his huge pistol towards the black, he pulled the trigger, and at the same instant sprang to his feet.
There was a loud deafening report, followed by a yell of wild agony.
Bill stayed not to note the effect of his fire; but ran as fast as his legs would carry him towards the camp, already alarmed by the report of the pistol.
The Arabs were running to and fro in terrible fear and confusion, shouting as they ran.
Amidst these shouts was heard, in the direction from which the sailor had fled, a loud voice frantically calling, “Muley! Muley!”
“’Tis the voice of Golah!” exclaimed the Krooman, in Arabic. “He is calling for his son, Muley is his son’s name!”
“They are going to attack the douar,” shouted the Arab sheik; and his words were followed by a scene of the wildest terror.
The Arabs rushed here and there, mingling their cries with those of the slaves; while women shrieked, children screamed, dogs barked, horses neighed, and even the quiet camels gave voice to their alarm.
In the confusion, the two wives of Golah, taking their children along with them, hurried away from the camp, and escaped undiscovered in the darkness.
They had heard the voice of the father of their children, and understood that accent of anguish in which he had called out the name of his son.
They were women—women who, although dreading their tyrant husband in his day of power, now pitied him in his hour of misfortune.
The Arabs, anxiously expecting the appearance of their enemy, in great haste made ready to meet him; but they were left unmolested.
In a few minutes all was quiet; not a sound was heard in the vicinity of the douar; and the late alarm might have appeared only a panic of groundless fear.
The light of day was gradually gathering in the east, when the Arab sheik, recovering from his excitement ventured to make an examination of the douar and its denizens.
Two important facts presented themselves as evidence that the fright they had experienced was not without a cause. The sentry who had been stationed to guard the camp on its southern side was not present, and Golah’s two wives and their children were also absent.
There could be no mystery about the disappearance of the women. They had gone to rejoin the man whose voice had been heard calling “Muley!”
But where was the Arab sentry? Had another of the party fallen a victim to the vengeance of Golah?
* * *
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Chapter Sixty One.
Golah fulfils his Destiny.
Taking the Krooman by one arm, the Arab sheik led him up to the old man-o’-war’s-man; who, sailor-like, having finished his watch, had gone to sleep.
After being awakened by the sheik, the Krooman was told to ask the white man why he had fired his pistol.
“Why, to kill Golah, the big nager!” answered Bill; “an’ I’m mighty desaved if I ’ave not done it.”
This answer was communicated to the sheik, who had the art of expressing unbelief with a peculiar smile, which he now practised.
Bill was asked if he had seen the black sheik.
“Seen him! sartinly I did,” answered the sailor. “He was not more nor four paces from me at the time I peppered him. I tell you he is gone and done for.”
The sheik shook his head, and again smiled incredulously.
Further inquiries were interrupted by the discovery of the body of the Arab sentinel whom Golah had killed, and all clustered around it.
The man’s head was nearly severed from his body; and the blow, which must have caused instant death, had evidently been given by the black sheik. Near the corpse, tracks were observed in the sand such as no other human being but Golah could have made.
It was now broad daylight; and the Arabs, glancing along the shore to southward, made another discovery.
Two camels with a horse were seen upon the beach about half a mile off; and, leaving one of their number to guard the douar, the old sheik with his followers started off in the hope of recovering some of the property they had lost.
They were followed by most of the slaves; who, by the misfortunes of their masters, were under less restraint.
On arriving near the place where the camels were, the young man we have described as Golah’s brother-in-law was found to be in charge of them. He was lying on the ground; but on the approach of the Arabs, he sprang to his feet, at the same time holding up both hands.
He carried no weapon; and the gesture signified, “It is peace.”
The two women, surrounded by their children, were near by, sitting silent and sorrowful on the sea-beach. They took no heed of the approach of the Arabs; and did not even look up as the latter drew near.
The muskets and other weapons were lying about. One of the camels was down upon the sand. It was dead; and the young negro was in the act of eating a large piece of raw flesh he had severed from its hump.
The Arab sheik inquired after Golah. He to whom the inquiry was directed pointed to the sea, where two dark bodies were seen tumbling about in the surf as it broke against the shingle of the beach.
The three midshipmen, at the command of the sheik, waded in, and dragged the bodies out of the water.
They were recognised as those of Golah and his son, Muley.
Golah’s face appeared to have been frightfully lacerated, and his once large fierce eyes were altogether gone.
The brother-in-law was called on to explain the mysterious death of the black sheik and his son.
His explanation was as follows:—
“I heard Golah calling for Muley after hearing the report of a gun. From that I knew that he was wounded. Muley ran to assist him, while I stayed behind with the horse and camels. I am starving!
“Very soon Muley came running back, followed by his father, who seemed possessed of an evil spirit. He ran this way and that way, swinging his scimitar about, and trying to kill us both as well as the camels. He could not see, and we managed to keep out of his way. I am starving!”
The young negro here paused, and, once more picking up the piece of camel’s flesh, proceeded to devour it with an alacrity that proved the truth of his assertion.
“Pig!” exclaimed the sheik, “tell your story first, and eat afterwards.”
“Praise be to Allah!” said the youth, as he resumed his narrative; “Golah ran against one of the camels and killed it.”
His listeners looked towards the dead camel. They saw that the body bore the marks of Golah’s great scimitar.
“After killing the camel,” continued the young man, “the sheik became quiet. The evil spirit had passed out of him; and he sat down upon the sand. Then his wives came up to him; and he talked to them kindly, and put his hands on each of the children, and called them by name. They screamed when they looked at him, and Golah told them not to be frightened, that he would wash his face, and frighten them no more. The little boy led him to the water, and he rushed into the sea as far as he could wade. He went there to die. Muley ran after to bring him out, and they were both drowned. I could not help them, for I was starving!”
The emaciated appearance of the narrator gave strong evidence of the truth of the concluding words of his story. For nearly a week he had been travelling night and day, and the want of sleep and food could not have been much longer endured.
At the command of the Arab chief, the slaves now buried the bodies of Golah and his son.
Gratified at his good fortune, in being relieved from all further trouble with his implacable foeman, the sheik determined to have a day of rest; which to his slaves was very welcome, as was also the flesh of the dead camel, now given them to eat.
About the death of Golah there was still a mystery the Arabs could not comprehend, and the services of the Krooman as interpreter were again called into requisition.
When the sheik learnt what the sailor had done, how the pistol had been made an effective weapon by filling the barrel with sand, he expressed much satisfaction at the manner in which the old man-o’-war’s-man had performed his duty.
Full of gratitude for the service thus rendered him, he promised that not only the sailor himself, but the boy slaves, his companions, should be taken to Mogador and restored to their friends.
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Chapter Sixty Two.
On the Edge of the Saara.
After a journey of two long dreary days, days that were to the boy slaves periods of agonising torture, from fatigue, hunger, thirst, and exposure to a burning sun, the kafila arrived at another watering-place.
As they drew near the place, our adventurers perceived that it was the same where they had first fallen into the hands of Golah.
“May God help us!” exclaimed Harry Blount, as they approached the place. “We have been here before. We shall find no water, I fear. We did not leave more than two bucketfuls in the hole; and as there has been no rain since, that must be dried up long ago.”
