During the forenoon of the day, all the eloquence Jim could command was required to prevent his brother from yielding. The old man-o’-war’s-man was tortured by extreme thirst, and was once or twice on the eve of selling himself in exchange for a cooling draught.
Long years of suffering on the desert had inured Jim to its hardships; and not so strongly tempted as the others, it was easier for him to remain firm.
Since falling into the company of his countrymen, his hope of freedom had revived; and he was determined to make a grand effort to regain it.
He knew that five white captives were worth the trouble of taking to some seaport frequented by English ships; and he believed if they refrained from making themselves useful there was a prospect of their being thus disposed of.
Through his influence, therefore, the refractory slaves remained staunch in their resolution to abstain from work.
Their masters now saw that they were better off in the field than in the prison. They could not be prevented from obtaining a few heads of the barley, which they greedily ate, nor from obtaining a little moisture by chewing the roots of the weeds growing around them.
As soon as this was noticed, two of the Arabs were sent to conduct them back to the place where they had been confined on the night before.
It was with the utmost exertion that Sailor Bill and Colin were able to reach the town; while the others, with the exception of Jim, were in a very weak and exhausted state. Hunger and thirst were fast subduing them, in body, if not in spirit.
On reaching the door of the goat-penn, they refused to go in, all clamouring loudly for food and water.
Their entreaties were met with the declaration that it was the will of God that those who would not work should suffer starvation.
“Idleness,” argued their masters, “is always punished by ill health;” and they wound up by expressing their thanks that such was the case.
It was not until the two Arabs had obtained the assistance of several of the women and boys of the village that they succeeded in getting the white slaves within the goat-penn.
“Jim, I tell you I can’t stand this any longer,” said Sailor Bill. “Call an’ say to ’em as I gives in, and will work to-morrow, if they will let me have some water.”
“And so will I,” said Terence. “There is nothing in the future to compensate for this suffering, and I can endure it no longer.”
“Nor will I,” exclaimed Harry; “I must have something to eat and drink immediately. We shall all be punished in the next world for self-murder in this, unless we yield.”
“Courage! patience!” exclaimed Jim. “It is better to suffer for a few hours more than to remain all your lives in slavery.”
“What do I care for the future?” muttered Terence; “the present is everything. He is a fool who kills himself to-day to keep from being hungry ten years after. I will try to work to-morrow, if I live so long.”
“Yes, call an’ tell ’em, Jim, as ’ow we gives in, an’ they’ll send us some refreshment,” entreated the old sailor. “It ain’t in human natur to die of starvation if one can ’elp it.”
But neither Jim nor the Krooman would communicate to the Arabs the wishes of their companions; and the words and signals the old sailor made to attract the attention of those outside were unheeded.
Early in the evening, both Colin and the Krooman also expressed themselves willing to sacrifice the future for the present.
“We have nothing to do with the future,” said Colin, in answer to Jim’s entreaties that they should remain firm. “The future is the care of God, and we are only concerned with the present. We ought to promise anything if we can obtain food by it.”
“I think so too, now,” said the Krooman; “for it am worse than sure dat if we starve now we no be slaves bom-bye.”
“They will not quite starve us to death,” said Jim. “I have told you before that we are worth too much for that. If we will not work they will sell us, and we may reach Mogador. If we do work, we may stay here for years. I entreat you to hold out one day longer.”
“I cannot,” answered one.
“Nor I,” exclaimed another.
“Let us first get something to eat, and then take our liberty by force,” said Terence. “I fancy that if I had a drink of water I could whip all the Arabs on earth.”
“And so could I,” said Colin.
“And I, too,” added Harry Blount.
Sailor Bill had sunk upon the floor, hardly conscious of what the others were saying; but, partly aroused by the word water, repeated it, muttering, in a hoarse whisper, “Water! water!”
The Krooman and the three youths joined in the cry; and then all, as loudly as their parched throats would permit, shouted the words, “Water! water!”
The call for water was apparently unheeded by the Arab men, but it was evidently music to many of the children of the village, for it attracted them to the door of the goat-penn, around which they clustered, listening with strong expressions of delight.
Through a long night of indescribable agony, the cry of “Water! Water!” was often repeated in the penn, and at each time in tones fainter and more supplicating than before.
The cry at length became changed from a demand to a piteous prayer.
* * *
* * *
Chapter Sixty Nine.
Victory.
Next morning, when the Arabs opened the door of the prison, Sailor Bill and Colin were found unable to rise; and the old salt seemed quite unconscious of all efforts made to awaken his attention.
Not till then did Jim’s resolution begin to give way. He would now submit, to save them from further suffering; but although knowing it was the wish of all that he should tender their submission on the terms the Arabs required, for a while he delayed doing so, in order to discover the course their masters designed adopting towards them.
“Are you Christian dogs willing to earn your food now?” inquired the old sheik, as he entered the goat-penn.
Faint and weak with hunger, nearly mad with thirst, alarmed for the condition of his brother, and pitying the agony of the others, Jim was about to answer the sheik’s question in the affirmative; but there was something in the tone in which the question had been put that determined him to refrain for a little longer.
The earthly happiness of six men might depend upon the next word he should utter, and that word he would not speak without some deliberation.
With an intellect sharpened by torture, Jim turned his gaze from the old sheik upon several other Arabs that had come near.
He could see that they had arrived at some decision amongst themselves, as to what they should do, and that they did not seem much interested in the ultimatum demanded by the sheik’s inquiry.
This lack of excitement or interest did not look like further starvation and death; and in place of telling the Arabs that they were willing to submit, Jim informed the old sheik that all were determined to die rather than remain slaves.
“There is not one of us that wishes to live,” he added, “except for the purpose of seeing our native land again. Our bodies are now weak, but our spirits are still strong. We will die!”
On receiving this answer, the Arabs departed, leaving the Christians in the penn.
The Krooman, who had been listening during the interview, then faintly called after them to return; but he was stopped by Jim, who still entertained the hope that his firmness would yet be rewarded.
Half an hour passed, and Jim began to doubt again. He might not have correctly interpreted the expressions he had noted upon the faces of the Arabs.
“What did you tell them?” muttered Terence. “Did you tell them that we were willing to work, if they would give us water?”
“Yes, certainly!” answered Jim, now beginning to regret that he had not tendered their submission before it might be too late.
“Then why do they not come and relieve us?” asked Terence in a whisper, hoarse from despair.
Jim vouchsafed no answer, and the Krooman seemed in too much mental and bodily anguish to heed what had been said.
Shortly after, Jim could hear the flocks being driven out of the town, and looking through a small opening in the wall of the penn, he could see some of the Arabs going out towards the barley-fields.
Could it be that he had been mistaken; that the Arabs were going to apply the screw of starvation for another day? Alarmed by this conjecture, he strove to hail them, and bring them back, but the effort only resulted in a hoarse whisper.
“May God forgive me!” thought he. “My brother, as well as all the others, will die before night! I have murdered them, and perhaps myself!”
Driven frantic with the thought, frenzy furnished him with the will and strength to speak out.
His voice could now be heard; for the walls of the stone building rang with the shouts of a madman.
He assailed the door with such force that the structure gave way, and Jim rushed out, prepared to make any promises or terms with their masters, to save the lives he had endangered by his obstinacy.
His submission was not required, for on looking out, two men and three or four boys were seen coming towards the penn, bearing bowls of water, and dishes filled with barley-gruel.
Jim had conquered in the strife between master and man. The old sheik had given orders for the white slaves to be fed.
Jim’s frenzy immediately subsided into an excitement of a different nature.
Seizing a calabash of water, he ran to his brother Bill, and raising him into a sitting posture, he applied the vessel to the man-o’-war’s-man’s lips.
Bill had not strength even to drink, and the water had to be poured down his throat.
Not until all of his companions had drunk, and swallowed a few mouthfuls of the barley-gruel, did Jim himself partake of anything.
The effect of food and water in restoring the energies of a starving man is almost miraculous; and he now congratulated his companions on the success of his scheme.
“It is all right!” he exclaimed. “We have conquered them! We shall not have to reap their harvest! We shall be fed, fattened, and sold, and perhaps be taken to Mogador. We should thank God for bringing us all safely through the trial. Had we yielded, there would have been no hope of ever regaining our liberty!”
* * *
* * *
Chapter Seventy.
Sold again.
Two days elapsed, during which time our adventurers were served with barley-gruel twice a day. They were allowed a sufficient quantity of water, with only the trouble of bringing it from the well, and enduring a good deal of insult and abuse from the women and children whom they chanced to meet on their way.
The second Krooman, who, in a moment of weakness inspired by the torture of thirst, had assisted the other slaves at their task, now tried in vain to get off from working. He came each evening to the penn to converse with his countryman, and at these meetings bitterly expressed his regret that he had submitted.
There was no hope for him now, for he had given proof that he could be made useful to his owners.
On the evening of the second day after they had been relieved from starvation, the white slaves were visited in their place of confinement by three Arabs they had not before seen.
These were well-armed, well-dressed, fine-looking fellows, having altogether a more respectable appearance than any inhabitants of the desert they had yet encountered.
Jim immediately entered into conversation with them, and learned that they were merchants, travelling with a caravan, and that they had claimed the hospitality of the town for that night.
They were willing to purchase slaves, and had visited the penn to examine those their hosts were offering for sale.
“You are just the men we are most anxious to see,” said Jim, in the Arabic language, which, during his long residence in the country, he had become acquainted with, and could speak fluently. “We want some merchant to buy us, and take us to Mogador, where we may find friends to ransom us.”
“I once bought two slaves,” rejoined one of the merchants, “and at great expense took them to Mogador. They told me that their consul would be sure to redeem them, but I found that they had no consul there. They were not redeemed, and I had to bring them away again, losing all the trouble and expense of a long journey.”
“Were they Englishmen?” asked Jim.
“No, Spaniards.”
“I thought so. Englishmen would certainly have been ransomed.”
“That is not so certain,” replied the merchant; “the English may not always have a consul in Mogador to buy up his countrymen.”
“We do not care whether there is one or not,” answered Jim. “One of the young fellows you see here has an uncle, a rich merchant in Mogador, who will ransom not only him, but all his friends. The three young men you see are officers of an English ship of war. They have rich fathers in England, all of them grand sheiks; and they were learning to be captains of war-ships, when they were lost on this coast. The uncle of one of them in Mogador will redeem the whole party of us.”
“Which is he who has the rich uncle?” inquired one of the Arabs.
Jim pointed to Harry Blount, saying, “That is the youngster. His uncle owns many great vessels that come every year to Swearah, laden with rich cargoes.”
“What is the name of this uncle?”
To give an appearance of truth to his story, Jim knew that it was necessary for some of the others to say something that would confirm it; and turning towards Harry, he muttered, “Master Blount, you are expected to say something, only two or three words; anything you like!”
“For God’s sake, get them to buy us!” said Harry, in complying with the strange request made to him.
Believing that the name he must give to the Arabs should something resemble in sound the words Harry had spoken, Jim told them that the name of the Mogador merchant was “For God’s sake buy us.”
After repeating these words two or three times, the Arabs were able to pronounce them, after a fashion.
“Ask the young man,” commanded one of them, “if he is sure the merchant ‘For-God’s-sake-bias’ will ransom you all?”
“When I am done speaking to you,” said Jim, whispering to Harry, “say Yes! nod your head, and then utter some words!”
“Yes!” exclaimed Harry, giving his head an abrupt inclination. “I think I know what you are trying to do, Jim. All right!”
“Yes!” said Jim, turning to the Arabs; “the young fellow says that he is quite certain his uncle will buy us all. Our friends at home will repay him.”
“But how about the black man?” asked one of the merchants. “He is not a Englishman?”
“No; but he speaks English. He has sailed in English ships, and will certainly be redeemed with the rest.”
The Arabs now retired from the penn, after promising to call and see our adventurers early in the morning.
After their departure, Jim related the whole of the conversation to his companions, which had the effect of inspiring them with renewed hope.
“Tell them anything,” said Harry, “and promise anything; for I think there is no doubt of our being ransomed if taken to Mogador, although I’m sure I have no uncle there, and don’t know whether there’s any English consul at that port.”
