Kitabı oku: «The Boy Slaves», sayfa 5

CHAPTER XIV.
A LIQUID BREAKFAST

Melancholy as was the situation of the self-caught camel, it was a joyful sight to those who beheld it. Hungry as they were, its flesh would provide them with food; and thirsting as they were, they knew that inside its stomach would be found a supply of water!

Such were their first thoughts as they came around it.

They soon perceived, however, that to satisfy the latter appetite it would not be necessary for them to kill the camel. Upon the top of its hump was a small, flat pad or saddle, firmly held in its place by a strong leathern band passing under the animal's belly. This proved it to be a "maherry," or riding camel, – one of those swift creatures used by the Arabs in their long rapid journeys across the deserts; and which are common among the tribes inhabiting the Saära.

It was not this saddle that gratified the eyes of our adventurers, but a bag, tightly strapped to it, and resting behind the hump of the maherry. This bag was of goat-skin, and upon examination was found to be nearly half-full of water. It was, in fact, the "Gerba," or water-skin, belonging to whoever had been the owner of the animal, – an article of camel equipment more essential than the saddle itself.

The four castaways, suffering the torture of thirst, made no scruple about appropriating the contents of the bag, and, in the shortest possible time, it was stripped from the back of the maherry, its stopper taken out, and the precious fluid extracted from it by all four, in greedy succession, until its light weight and collapsed sides declared it to be empty.

Their thirst being thus opportunely assuaged, a council was next held, as to what they should do to appease the other appetite.

Should they kill the camel?

It appeared to be their only chance; and the impetuous Terence had already unsheathed his midshipman's dirk, with the design of burying it in the body of the animal.

Colin, however, more prudent in counsel, cried to him to hold his hand, – at least until they should give the subject a more thorough consideration.

On this suggestion they proceeded to debate the point between them. They were of different opinions, and equally divided. Two, – Terence and Harry Blount, – were for immediately killing the maherry, and making their breakfast upon its flesh; while the sailor joined Colin in voting that it should be reprieved.

"Let us first make use of the animal to help carry us somewhere," urged the young Scotchman. "We can go without food a day longer. Then, if we find nothing, we can butcher this beast."

"But what's to be found in such a country as this?" inquired Harry Blount. "Look around you! There's nothing green but the sea itself. There isn't anything eatable within sight, – not so much as would make a dinner for a dormouse!"

"Perhaps," rejoined Colin, "when we've travelled a few miles, we may come upon a different sort of country. We can keep along the coast. Why shouldn't we find shell-fish, – enough to keep us alive? See, – yonder's a dark place down upon the beach. I shouldn't wonder if there's some there."

The glances of all were instantly directed towards the beach, – excepting those of Sailor Bill. His were fixed on a different object; and an exclamation that escaped him – as well as a movement that accompanied it – arrested the attention of his companions, causing them to turn their eyes upon him.

"Shell-fish be blow'd," cried Bill, "here's something better for breakfast than cowld oysters. Look!"

The sailor, as he spoke, pointed to an oval-shaped object, something larger than a cocoa-nut, appearing between the hind legs of the maherry.

"It's a shemale!" added he, "and's had a calf not long ago. Look at the 'eldher,' and them tits. They're swelled wi' milk. There'll be enough for the whole of us, I warrant yez."

As if to make sure of what he said, the sailor dropped down upon his knees by the hind-quarters of the prostrate camel; and, taking one of the teats in his mouth, commenced drawing forth the lacteal fluid which the udder contained.

The animal made no resistance. It might have wondered at the curious "calf" that had thus attached himself to its teats; but only at the oddness of his color and costume; for no doubt it had often before been similarly served by its African owner.

"Fust rate!" cried Bill, desisting for a moment to take breath. "Ayqual to the richest crame; if we'd only a bite av bred to go along wi' it, or some av your Scotch porritch, Master Colin. But I forgets. My brave youngsters," continued he, rising up and standing to one side, "yez be all hungrier than I am. Go it, wan after another: there'll be enough for yez all."

Thus invited, and impelled by their hungry cravings, the three, one after another, knelt down as the sailor had done, and drank copiously from that sweet "fountain of the desert."

Taking it in turns, they continued "sucking," until each had swallowed about a pint and a half of the nutritious fluid when, the udder of the camel becoming dry, told that her supply of milk was, for the time, exhausted.

CHAPTER XV.
THE SAILOR AMONG THE SHELL-FISH

It was no longer a question of slaying the camel. That would be killing the goose that gave the golden eggs. Though they were still very hungry, the rich milk had to some extent taken the keen edge off their appetites; and all declared they could now go several hours without eating.

The next question was: where were they to go?

The reader may wonder that this was a question at all. Having been told that the camel carried a saddle, and was otherwise caparisoned, it will naturally be conjectured that the animal had got loose from some owner, and was simply straying. This was the very hypothesis that passed before the mind of our adventurers. How could they have conjectured otherwise?

Indeed it was scarce a guess. The circumstances told them to a certainty that the camel must have strayed from its owner. The only question was: where that owner might be found.

By reading, or otherwise, they possessed enough knowledge of the coast, on which they had been cast away, to know that the proprietor of the "stray" would be some kind of an Arab; and that he would be found living – not in a house or a town – but in a tent; in all likelihood associated with a number of other Arabs, in an "encampment."

It required not much reasoning to arrive at these conclusions; and our adventurers had come to them almost on that instant, when they first set eyes on the caparisoned camel.

You may wonder that they did not instantly set forth in search of the master of the maherry; or of the tent or encampment from which the latter should have strayed. One might suppose, that this would have been their first movement.

On the contrary, it was likely to be their very last; and for sufficient reasons, – which will be discovered in the conversation that ensued, after they had swallowed their liquid breakfasts.

Terence had proposed adopting this course, – that is, to go in search of the man from whom the maherry must have wandered. The young Irishman had never been a great reader, – at all events no account of the many "lamentable shipwrecks on the Barbary coast" had ever fallen into his hands, – and he knew nothing of the terrible reputation of its people. Neither had Bill obtained any knowledge of it from books; but, for all that, – thanks to many a forecastle yarn, – the old sailor was well informed both about the character of the coast on which they had suffered shipwreck, and its inhabitants. Bill had the best of reasons for dreading the denizens of the Saäran desert.

"Sure they're not cannibals?" urged Terence. "They won't eat us, any how?"

"In troth I'm not so shure av that, Masther Terry," replied Bill. "Even supposin' they won't ate us, they'll do worse."

"Worse!"

"Aye, worse, I tell you. They'd torture us, till death would be a blissin'."

"How do you know they would?"

"Ach, Masther Terry!" sighed the old sailor, assuming an air of solemnity, such as his young comrades had never before witnessed upon his usually cheerful countenance; "I could tell yez something that 'ud convince ye of the truth av what I've been sayin', an' that'll gie ye a hidear av what we've got to expect if we fall into the 'ands av these feerocious Ayrabs."

Bill had already hinted at the prospective peril of an encounter with the people of the country.

"Tell us, Bill. What is it?"

"Well, young masthers, it beant much, – only that my own brother was wrecked som'ere on this same coast. That was ten years agone. He never returned to owld Hengland."

"Perhaps he was drowned?"

"Betther for 'im, poor boy, if he 'ad. No, he 'adn't that luck. The crew, – it was a tradin' vessel, and there was tin o' them, – all got safe ashore. They were taken prisoners as they landed by a lot o' Ayrabs. Only one av the tin got home to tell the tale; and he wouldn't a 'ad the chance but for a Jew merchant at Mogador, that found he had rich relations as 'ud pay well to ransom him. I see him a wee while after he got back to Hengland; and he tell me what he had to go through, and my hown brother as well: for Jim, – that be my brother's name, – was with the tribe as took 'im up the counthry. None o' yez iver heerd o' cruelties like they 'ad to put up with. Death in any way would be aisy, compared to what they 'ad to hendure. Poor Jim! I suppose he's dead long ago. Tough as I be myself, I don't believe I could a stood it a week, – let alone tin years. Talk o' knockin' about like a Turk's head. They were knocked about, an' beat, an' bullied, an' kicked, an' starved, – worse than the laziest lubber as ever skulked about the decks o' a ship. No, Masther Terry, we mustn't think av thryin' to find the owner av the beest; but do everythink we can to keep out o' the way av both him and his."

"What would you advise us to do, Bill?"

"I don't know much 'bout where we be," replied the sailor; "but wheresomever it is, our best plan are to hug by the coast, an' keep within sight o' the water. If we go innard, we're sure to get lost one way or t' other. By keepin' south'ard we may come to some thradin' port av the Portagee."

"We'd better start at once, then," suggested the impatient Terence.

"No, Masther Terry," said the sailor; "not afore night. We musn't leave 'eer till it gets dark. We'll 'ave to thravel betwane two days."

"What!" simultaneously exclaimed the three midshipmen. "Stay here till night! Impossible!"

"Aye, lads! an' we must hide, too. Shure as ye are livin' there'll be somebody afther this sthray kaymal, – in a wee while, too, as ye'll see. If we ventured out durin' the daylight, they'd be sure to see us from the 'ills. It's sayed, the thievin' schoundrels always keep watch when there's been a wreck upon the coast; an' I'll be bound this beest belongs to some av them same wreckers."

"But what shall we do for food?" asked one of the party; "we'll be famished before nightfall! The camel, having nothing to eat or drink, won't yield any more milk."

This interrogative conjecture was probably too near the truth. No one made answer to it. Colin's eyes were again turned towards the beach. Once more he directed the thoughts of his comrades to the shell-fish.

"Hold your hands, youngsthers," said the sailor. "Lie close 'eer behind the 'ill, an' I'll see if there's any shell-fish that we can make a meal av. Now that the sun's up, it won't do to walk down there. I must make a crawl av it."

So saying, the old salt, after skulking some distance farther down the sand gully, threw himself flat upon his face, and advanced in this attitude, like some gigantic lizard crawling across the sand.

The tide was out; but the wet beach, lately covered by the sea, commenced at a short distance from the base of the "dunes."

After a ten minutes' struggle, Bill succeeded in reaching the dark-looking spot where Colin had conjectured there might be shell-fish.

The old sailor was soon seen busily engaged about something; and from his movements it was evident, that his errand was not to prove fruitless. His hands were extended in different directions; and then at short intervals withdrawn, and plunged into the capacious pockets of his pea-jacket.

After these gestures had been continued for about half an hour, he was seen to "slew" himself round, and come crawling back towards the sand-hills.

His return was effected more slowly than his departure; and it could be seen that he was heavily weighted.

On getting back into the gorge, he was at once relieved of his load, which proved to consist of about three hundred "cockles," – as he called the shell-fish he had collected, – and which were found to be a species of mussel.

They were not only edible, but delicious, – at least they seemed so to those who were called upon to swallow them.

This seasonable supply did a great deal towards allaying the appetites of all; and even Terence now declared himself contented to remain concealed, until night should afford them an opportunity of escape from the monotony of their situation.

CHAPTER XVI.
KEEPING UNDER COVER

From the spot, where the camel still lay couched in his "entetherment," the sea was not visible to one lying along the ground. It was only by standing erect, and looking over a spur of the sand-ridge, that the beach could be seen, and the ocean beyond it.

There would be no danger, therefore, of their being discovered, by any one coming along the strand – provided they kept in a crouching attitude behind the ridge, which, sharply crested, like a snow-wreath, formed a sort of parapet in front of them. They might have been easily seen from the summit of any of the "dunes" to the rear; but there was not much likelihood of any one approaching them in that direction. The country inward appeared to be a labyrinth of sand-hills – with no opening that would indicate a passage for either man or beast. The camel, in all probability, had taken to the gorge – guided by its instincts – there to seek shelter from the sand-storm. The fact of its carrying a saddle showed that its owner must have been upon the march, at the time it escaped from him. Had our adventurers been better acquainted with Saäran customs, they would have concluded that this had been the case: for they would have known that, on the approach of a "shuma" – the "forecasts" of which are well known – the Bedouins at once, and in all haste, break up their encampments; and put themselves, and their whole personal property, in motion. Otherwise, they would be in danger of getting smoored under the settling sand-drift.

Following the counsels of the sailor – whose desert knowledge appeared as extensive as if it, and not the sea, had been his habitual home – our adventurers crouched down in such a way as not to be seen by any one passing along the beach.

Scarcely had they placed themselves in this humble attitude, when Old Bill – who had been keeping watch all the while, with only the upper half of his head elevated above the combing of the sand-wreath – announced, by a low exclamation, that something was in sight.

Two dark forms were seen coming along the shore, from the southward; but at so great a distance that it was impossible to tell what sort of creatures they might turn out.

"Let me have a look," proposed Colin. "By good luck, I've got my glass. It was in my pocket as we escaped from the ship; and I didn't think of throwing it away."

As the young Scotchman spoke, he took from the breast of his dreadnought jacket, a small telescope, – which, when drawn out to its full extent, exhibited a series of tubes, en échelon, about half a yard in length. Directing it upon the dark objects, – at the same time taking the precaution to keep his own head as low down as possible, – he at once proclaimed their character.

"They're two bonny bodies," said he, "dressed in all the colors of the rainbow. I can see bright shawls, and red caps, and striped cloaks. One is mounted on a horse; the other bestrides a camel, – just such a one as this by our side. They're coming along slowly; and appear to be staring about them."

"Ah, that be hit," said Old Bill. "It be the howners of this 'eer brute. They be on the sarch for her. Lucky the drift-sand hae covered her tracks, – else they'd come right on to us. Lie low, Masther Colin. We mayn't show our heeds over the combin' o' the sand. They'd be sure to see the size o' a saxpence. We maun keep awthegither oot o' sicht."

One of the old sailor's peculiarities – or, perhaps, it may have been an eccentricity – was, that in addressing himself to his companions, he was almost sure to assume the national patois of the individual spoken to. In anything like a continued conversation with Harry Blount, his "h's" were handled in a most unfashionable manner; and while talking with Terence, the Milesian came from his lips, in a brogue almost as pure as Tipperary could produce.

In a tête-à-tête with Colin, the listener might have sworn that Bill was more Scotch than the young Macpherson himself.

Colin perceived the justice of the sailor's suggestion; and immediately ducked his head below the level of the parapet of sand.

This placed our adventurers in a position at once irksome and uncertain. Curiosity, if nothing else, rendered them desirous to watch the movements of the men who were approaching. Without noting these, they would not be able to tell when they might again raise their heads above the ridge; and might do so, just at the time when the horseman and the rider of the maherry were either opposite or within sight of them.

As the sailor had said, any dark object of the size of a sixpence would be seen if presented above the smooth combing of snow-white sand; and it was evident to all that for one of them to look over it might lead to their being discovered.

While discussing this point, they knew that some time had elapsed; and, although the eyes they dreaded might still be distant, they could not help thinking, that they were near enough to see them if only the hair of their heads should be shown above the sand.

They reflected naturally. They knew that these sons of the desert must be gifted with keen instincts; or, at all events, with an experience that would enable them to detect the slightest "fault" in the aspect of a landscape, so well known to them, – in short, that they would notice anything that might appear "abnormal" in it.

From that time their situation was one of doubt and anxiety. They dared not give even as much as a glance over the smooth, snow white sand. They could only crouch behind it, in anxious expectation, knowing not when that dubious condition of things could be safely brought to a close.

Luckily they were relieved from it, and sooner than they had expected. Colin it was who discovered a way to get out of the difficulty.

"Ha!" exclaimed he, as an ingenious conception sprang up in his mind. "I've got an idea that'll do. I'll watch these fellows, without giving them a chance of seeing me. That will I."

"How?" asked the others.

Colin made no verbal reply; but instead, he was seen to insert his telescope into the sand-parapet, in such a way that its tube passed clear through to the other side, and of course commanded a view of the beach, along which the two forms were advancing.

As soon as he had done so, he placed his eye to the glass, and, in a cautious whisper, announced that both the horseman and camel-rider were within his "field of view."

CHAPTER XVII.
THE TRAIL ON THE SAND

The tube of the telescope, firmly imbedded in the sand, kept its place without the necessity of being held in hand. It only required to be slightly shifted as the horseman and camel-rider changed place, – so as to keep them within its field of view.

By this means our adventurers were able to mark their approach and note every movement they made, without much risk of being seen themselves. Each of them took a peep through the glass to satisfy their curiosity, and then the instrument was wholly intrusted to its owner, who was thenceforth constantly to keep his eye to it, and observe the movements of the strangers. This the young Scotchman did, at intervals communicating with his companions in a low voice.

"I can make out their faces," muttered he, after a time; "and ugly enough are they. One is yellow, the other black. He must be a negro, – of course he is, – he's got woolly hair too. It's he that rides the camel, – just such another as this that stumbled over us. The yellow man upon the horse has a pointed beard upon his chin. He has a sharp look, like those Moors we've seen at Tetuan. He's an Arab, I suppose. He appears to be the master of the black man. I can see him make gestures, as if he was directing him to do something. There! they have stopped, – they are looking this way!"

"Marcy on us!" muttered old Bill, "if they have speered the glass!"

"Troth! that's like enough," said Terence. "It'll be flashing in the sun outside the sand. That sharp-eyed Arab is almost sure to see it."

"Had you not better draw it in?" suggested Harry Blount.

"True," answered Colin. "But I fear it would be too late now. If that's what halted them, it's all over with us, so far as hiding goes."

"Slip it in, any how. If they don't see it any more, they mayn't come quite up to the ridge."

Colin was about to follow the advice thus offered, when on taking what he intended to be a last squint through the telescope, he perceived that the travellers were moving on up the beach, as if they had seen nothing that called upon them to deviate from their course.

Fortunately for the four "stowaways," it was not the sparkle of the lens that had caused them to make that stop. A ravine, or opening through the sand-ridges, much larger than that in which our adventurers were concealed, emboucheed upon the beach, some distance below. It was the appearance of this opening that had attracted the attention of the two mounted men; and from their gestures Colin could tell they were talking about it, as if undecided whether to go that way or keep on up the strand.

It ended by the yellow man putting spurs to his horse, and galloping off up the ravine, followed by the black man on the camel.

From the way in which both behaved, – keeping their eyes generally bent upon the ground, but at intervals gazing about over the country, – it was evident they were in search of something, and this would be the she-camel that lay tethered in the bottom of the sand-gorge, close to the spot occupied by our adventurers.

"They've gone off on the wrong track," said Colin, taking his eye from the glass as soon as the switch tail of the maherry disappeared behind the slope of a sand-dune. "So much the better for us. My heart was at my mouth just a minute ago. I was sure it was all over with us."

"You think they haven't seen the shine of the lens?" interrogated Harry.

"Of course not; or else they'd have come on to examine it. Instead, they've left the beach altogether. They've gone inland, among the hills. They're no longer in sight."

"Good!" ejaculated Terence, raising his head over the ridge, as did also the others.

"Och! good yez may well say, Masther Terence. Jist look fwhot fools we've been all four av us! We never thought av the thracks, nayther wan nor other av us!"

As Bill spoke, he pointed down towards the beach, in the direction in which he had made his late crawling excursion. There, distinctly traceable in the half-wet sand, were the marks he had made both going and returning, as if a huge tortoise or crocodile had been dragging itself over the ground.

The truth of his words was apparent to all. It was chance and not their cunning that had saved them from discovery. Had the owner of the camel but continued another hundred yards along the beach, he could not have failed to see the double "trail" made by the sailor, and of course would have followed it to the spot where they were hidden. As it was, the two mounted men had not come near enough to note the sign made by the old salt in his laborious flounderings; and perhaps fancying they had followed the strand far enough, they had struck off into the interior, – through the opening of the sand-hills, in the belief that the she-camel might have done the same.

Whatever may have been their reason, they were now gone out of sight, and the long stretch of desert shore was once more under the eyes of our adventurers, unrelieved by the appearance of anything that might be called a living creature.