Chapter Seventy One.
Onward once more.
Early next morning our adventurers were awakened and ordered to prepare for the road.
The Arab merchants had purchased from their late hosts three donkeys, upon which the white slaves were allowed to ride in turns. Harry Blunt, however, was distinguished from the rest. As the nephew of the rich merchant, “For God’s sake buy us!” he was deemed worthy of higher favour, and was permitted to have a camel.
In vain he protested against being thus elevated above his companions. The Arabs did not heed his remonstrance; and at a few words from Jim he discontinued them.
“They think that we are to be released from slavery by the money of your relative,” said Jim, “and you must do nothing to undeceive them. Not to humour them might awaken their suspicions. Besides, as you are the responsible person of the party, the one whose throat is to be cut if the money is not found, you are entitled to a little distinction, as compensation for extra anxiety.”
The Krooman, who had joined the slaves in cutting the grain, was in the field at work when the merchants moved off; and was not present to bid farewell to his more fortunate countryman.
After travelling about twelve miles through a fertile country, much of which was in cultivation, the Arab merchants arrived at a large reservoir of water, where they encamped for the night.
The water was in a stone tank, placed so as to catch all the rain that fell in a long narrow valley, gradually descending from some hills to the northward.
Jim had visited the place before; and told his companions that the tank had been constructed by a man whose memory was much respected, and who died nearly a hundred years ago.
During the night, the Krooman, who had been left behind, entered the encampment, confident in the belief that he had escaped from his taskmasters.
At sunset he had contrived to conceal himself among the barley sheaves, until his masters were out of sight, when he had started off on the track taken by the Arab merchants.
He was not allowed long indulgence in his dream of liberty. On the following morning, as the kafila was about to continue its journey, three men were seen approaching on swift camels; and shortly after Rias Abdallah Yezzed and two of his followers rode up.
They were in pursuit of the runaway Krooman, and in great rage at the trouble which he had caused them. So anxious were the boy slaves that the poor fellow should continue along with them, that, for their sake, the Arab merchants made a strenuous effort to purchase him; but Rias Abdallah obstinately refused to sell him at anything like a reasonable price. The Krooman had given proof that he could be very useful in the harvest field; and a sum much greater than had been paid for any of the others was demanded for him. He was worth more to his present owners than what the Arab merchants could afford to give; and was therefore dragged back to the servitude from which he had hoped to escape.
“You can see now that I was right,” said Jim. “Had we consented to cut their harvest, we should never have had an opportunity of regaining our liberty. Our labour for a single year would have been worth as much to them as the price they received for us, and we should have been held in perpetual bondage.”
Jim’s companions could perceive the truth of this observation; but not without being conscious that their good fortune was, on their part, wholly undeserved, and that had it not been for him, they would have yielded to the wishes of their late masters.
After another march the merchants made halt near some wells, around which a large Arab encampment was found already established, the flocks and herds wandering over the adjacent plain. Here our adventurers had an opportunity of observing some of the manners and customs of this nomadic people.
Here, for the first time, they witnessed the Arab method of making butter.
A goat’s-skin, nearly filled with the milk of camels, asses, sheep, and goats, all mixed together, was suspended to the ridge-pole of a tent, and swung to and fro by a child until the butter was produced. The milk was then poured off, and the butter clawed out of the skin by the black dirty fingers of one of the women.
The Arabs allege that they were the first people who discovered the art of making butter; though the discovery does not entitle them to any great credit, since they could scarce have avoided making it. The necessity of carrying milk in these skin bags, on a journey, must have conducted them to the discovery. The agitation of the fluid, while being transported on the backs of camels, producing the result, naturally suggested the idea of bringing it about by similar means when they were not travelling.
At this place the slaves were treated to some barley cakes, and were allowed a little of the butter; and this, notwithstanding the filthy mode in which it had been prepared, appeared to them the most delicious they had ever tasted.
During the evening, the three merchants, along with several other Arabs, seated themselves in a circle; when a pipe was lit, and passed round from one to another. Each would take a long draw, and then hand the pipe to his left-hand neighbour.
While thus occupied, they kept up an animated conversation, in which the word “Swearah” was often pronounced. Swearah, of course, meant “Mogador.”
“They were talking about us,” said Jim, “and we must learn for what purpose. I am afraid there is something wrong. Krooman,” he continued, addressing himself to the black, “they don’t know that you understand their language. Lie down near them, and pretend to be asleep; but take note of every word they say. If I go up to them, they will drive me away.”
The Krooman did as desired, and, carelessly sauntering near the circle, appeared to be searching for a soft place on which to stretch his body for the night.
This he discovered some seven or eight paces from the spot where the Arabs were seated.
“I have been disappointed about obtaining my freedom so many times,” muttered Jim, “that I can scarce believe I shall ever succeed. Those fellows are talking about Mogador; and I don’t like their looks. Hark! what is that about ‘more than you can get in Swearah!’ I believe these new Arabs are making an offer to buy us. If so, may their Prophet curse them!”
Chapter Seventy Two.
Another Bargain.
The conversation amongst the Arabs was kept up until a late hour; and, during the time it continued our adventurers were impatiently awaiting the return of the Krooman.
He came at length, after the Arabs had retired to their tents; and all gathered round him, eager to learn what he had heard.
“I find out too much,” said he, in answer to their inquiries; “too much, and no much good.”
“What was it?”
“Two of you to be sold to-morrow.”
“What two?”
“No one know. One man examine us all in the morning, but take only two.”
After suffering a long lesson teaching the virtue of patience, they learnt from Krooman that one of those who had been conversing with their masters was a grazier, owning large droves of cattle; and that he had lately been to Swearah.
He had told the merchants that they would not be able to get a large price for their slaves in that place, and that the chances were much against their making more than the actual expenses incurred in so long a journey. He assured the Arab merchants that no Christian consul or foreign merchant in Mogador would pay a dollar more for redeeming six slaves than what they could be made to pay for two or three; that they were not always willing or prepared to pay anything; and that whenever they did redeem a slave, they did not consider his value, but only the time and expense that had been incurred in bringing him to the place.
Under the influence of these representations, the Arab merchants had agreed to sell two of these white slaves to the grazier, thinking they would get as much for the remaining four as they would by taking all six to the end of the journey.
The owner of the herds was to make his choice in the morning.
“I thought there was a breaker ahead last night,” exclaimed Jim, after the Krooman had concluded his report. “We must not be separated except by liberty or death. Our masters must take us all to Mogador. There is trouble before us yet; but we must be firm, and overcome it. Firmness has saved us once, and may do so again.”
After all had promised to be guided in the coming emergency by Jim, they laid themselves along the ground and sought rest in sleep.
Next morning, while they were eating their breakfast, they were visited by the grazier who was expected to make choice of two of their number.
“Which is the one who speaks Arabic?” he inquired from one of the merchants.
Jim was pointed out, and was at once selected as one of the two to be purchased.
“Tell ’im to buy me, too, Jim,” said Bill, “We’ll sail in company, you and I, though I don’t much like partin’ with the young gentlemen here.”
“You shall not part either with them or me, if I can help it,” answered Jim; “but we must expect some torture. Let all bear it like devils, and don’t give in. That’s our only chance!”
Glancing his eyes over the other slaves, the grazier selected Terence as the second for whom he was willing to pay a price.
His terms having been accepted by the merchants, they were about concluding the bargain, when they were accosted by Jim.
He assured them that he and his companions were determined to die before they should be separated, that none of them would do any work if retained in slavery, and that all were determined to be taken to Swearah.
The merchants and the buyer only smiled at this interruption; and went on with the negotiation.
In vain did Jim appeal to their cupidity, reminding them that the merchant, “For God’s sake buy us”, would pay a far higher price for himself and his companions.
His arguments and entreaties failed to change their determination, the bargain was concluded, and Jim and Terence were made over to their new master.
The merchants then mounted their camels, and ordered the other four to follow them.
Harry Blount, Colin, and Sailor Bill, answered this command by sulkily sitting down upon the sand.
Another command from the merchants was given, in sharp tones that betrayed their rising wrath.
“Obey them!” exclaimed Jim. “Go on; and Master Terence and I will follow you. We’ll stand the brunt of the battle. They shall not hold me here alive!”
Colin and Bill each mounted a donkey, and Harry his camel; the Arab merchants seeming quite satisfied at the result of their slight exhibition of anger.
Jim and Terence attempted to follow them; but their new master was prepared for this; and, at a word of command, several of his followers seized hold of and fast bound both of them.
Jim’s threat, that they should not hold him alive, had thus proved but an idle boast.
Harry, Colin, and Bill, now turned back, dismounted, and showed their determination to remain with their companions down along side of them.
“These Christian dogs do not wish for liberty!” exclaimed one of the merchants. “Allah forbid that we should force them to accept it. Who will buy them?”
These words completely upset all Jim’s plans. He saw that he was depriving the others of the only opportunity they might ever have of obtaining their liberty.
“Go on, go on!” he exclaimed. “Make no further resistance. It is possible they may take you to Mogador. Do not throw away the chance.”
“We are not goin’ to lave you, Jim,” said Bill, “not even for liberty, leastways, I’m not. Don’t you be afeerd o’ that!”
“Of course we will not, unless we are forced to do so,” added Harry. “Have you not said that we must keep together?”
“Have you not all promised to be guided by me?” replied Jim. “I tell you now to make no further resistance. Go on with them, if you wish ever to be free!”
“Jim knows what he is about,” interposed Colin: “let us obey him.”
With some reluctance Harry and Bill were induced to mount again; but just as they were moving away, they were recalled by Jim, who told them not to leave; and that all must persevere in the determination not to be separated.
“The man has certainly gone mad,” reflected Harry Blount, as he turned back once more. “We must no longer be controlled by him; but Terence must not be left behind. We cannot forsake him.”
Again the three dismounted; and returning to the spot where Jim and Terence lay fast bound along the sand, sat determinedly down beside them.
Chapter Seventy Three.
More Torture.
The sudden change of purpose and the counter-orders given by Jim were caused by something he had just heard while listening to the conversation of the Arabs.
Seeing that the merchants, rather than have any unnecessary trouble with them, were disposed to sell them all, Jim had been unwilling to deprive his brother and the others of an opportunity of obtaining their freedom. For this reason had he entreated them to leave Terence and himself to their fate.
But just as he had prevailed on Harry and his companions to go quietly, he learnt from the Arabs that the man who had purchased Terence and himself refused to buy any more of them; and also that the other Arabs present were either unable or unwilling to buy them.
The merchants, therefore, would have to take them farther before they could dispose of them.
In Jim’s mind then revived the hope that, by opposing the wishes of his late masters, he and Terence might be bought back again, and taken on to Mogador. It was this hope that had induced him to recall his companions, after having urged them to depart.
A few words explained his apparently strange conduct to Harry and Colin, and they again promised to resist every attempt made to take them any farther unless all should go in company.
The merchants in vain commanded and entreated that the Christian dogs should move on. They used threats, and then resorted to blows.
Harry, to whom they had hitherto shown some respect, was beaten until his scanty garments were saturated with blood.
Unwilling to see them suffering so much torture unsupported by any selfish desire, Jim again counselled Harry and the others to yield obedience to their masters.
In this counsel he was warmly seconded by Terence.
But Harry declared his determination not to desert his old shipmate Colin, and Bill remained equally firm under the torture; while the Krooman, knowing that his only chance of liberty depended on remaining true to the white slaves, and keeping in their company, could not be induced to yield.
Perceiving that all his entreaties, addressed to his brother, Harry, and Colin, could not put an end to the painful scene he was compelled to witness, Jim strove to effect his purpose by making an appeal to his late masters.
“Buy us back, and take us all to Swearah as you promised,” said he. “If you do so, we will go cheerfully, as we were doing before. I tell you, you will be well paid for your trouble.”
One of the merchants, placing some confidence in the truth of this representation, now offered to buy Jim and Terence on his own account; but their new master refused to part with his freshly acquired property.
A crowd of men, women, and children, had now gathered around the spot; and from all sides were heard shouts of “Kill the obstinate Christian ‘dogs’. How dare they resist the will of true believers!”
This advice was given by those who had no pecuniary interest in the chattels in question; but the merchants, who had invested a large sum in the purchase of their white slaves, had no idea of making such a sacrifice for the gratification of a mere outburst of passion.
There was but one way for them to overcome the difficulty that had so unexpectedly presented itself. This was to separate the slaves by force; taking the four along with them, and leaving the other two to the purchaser, who would not revoke his bargain.
To accomplish this, the assistance of the bystanders was required, and readily obtained.
Harry was seized and hoisted to the back of his camel; to which he was firmly bound.
Colin, Bill, and the Krooman, were each set astride of a donkey, and then made fast by having their feet tied under the animal’s belly.
For a small sum the merchants then engaged two of the bystanders to accompany them, and guard the white slaves to the frontier of the Moorish empire—a distance of two days’ journey.
Just as the party was about to move away from the spot, one of the merchants, addressing himself to Jim, made the following observations:—
“Tell the young man—the nephew of the merchant ‘For God’s sake bias’—that since we have started for Swearah, in the belief that his story is true, we shall now take him there, whether he be willing or not; and if he has in any way deceived us, he shall surely die.”
“He has not deceived you,” said Jim; “take him and the rest of us there, and you will certainly be rewarded.”
“Then, why do they not go willingly?”
“Because they do not wish to leave their friends.”
“Ungrateful dogs! cannot they be thankful for their own good fortune? Do they take us for slaves, that we should do their will?”
While this conversation was going go, the other two merchants had headed their animals to the road; and in a minute after, Harry Blount and Colin had parted with their old messmate Terence, without a hope of ever seeing him again.
Chapter Seventy Four.
Hope deferred.
For the first hour of their journey, Harry, Colin, and Sailor Bill, were borne along, fast bound upon the backs of their animals. So disagreeable did they find this mode of locomotion, that the Krooman was requested to inform their masters that they were willing to accompany them without further opposition, if allowed the freedom of their limbs. This was the first occasion on which the Krooman had made known to the Arab merchants that he could speak their language.
After receiving a few curses and blows for having so long concealed his knowledge of it, the white slaves were unbound, and the animals they bestrode were driven along in advance of the others, while the two hired guards were ordered to keep a careful watch over them.
The journey was continued until a late hour of the night, when the travellers arrived at a high wall enclosing a small village.
After the slaves had been conducted inside, and the gate fastened behind them, their masters, relieved of all anxiety about losing their property, accepted the hospitality of the sheik of the place, and took their departure for his house, leaving orders that the white slaves should be fed.
After the latter had eaten a hearty meal, consisting of barley-bread and milk, they were conducted to a penn, which was to be their sleeping place, and where they passed the greater part of the night in fighting the fleas.
Never before had either of them encountered these insects either so large in size or of so keen appetites.
It was only at the time at which their journey should have been resumed, that they forgot their hopes and cares in the repose of sleep. Weary in body and soul, they slept on till a late hour; and when aroused to consciousness by an Arab bringing their breakfast, they were surprised to see that the sun was high up in the heavens.
Why had they not been awakened before?
Why this delay?
In the mind of each was an instinctive fear that there must be something wrong, that some other obstacle had arisen, blocking up their road to freedom.
Hours passed, and still their masters came not near them.
They remained in much anxiety, vainly endeavouring to surmise what had caused the interruption to their journey.
Knowing that the merchants had expressed an intention to conduct them to Mogador as soon as possible, they could not doubt but that the delay arose from some cause affecting their welfare.
Late in the afternoon they were visited by their masters; and in that interview their worst fears were more than realised.
By the aid of the Krooman, one of the merchants informed Harry that he had deceived them, that the sheik, of whose hospitality they had been partaking, had often visited Swearah, and was acquainted with all the foreign residents there. He had told them that there was no one of the name of “For God’s sake bias.”
He had assured them that they were being imposed upon; and that by taking the white slaves to Swearah they would certainly lose them.
“We will not kill you,” said one of their masters to Harry, “for we have not had the trouble of carrying you the whole distance; and besides, we should be doing an injury to ourselves. We shall take you back to the borders of the desert, and there sell you for what you will fetch.”
Harry told the Krooman to inform his masters that he had freely pledged his existence on the truth of the story he had told them, that he assuredly had a rich friend in Mogador, who would redeem them all; but that, should his uncle not be in the place at the time they should arrive there, it would make no difference, as they would certainly be ransomed by the English consul. “Tell them,” added Harry, “that if they will take us to Mogador, and we are not ransomed as I promised, they shall be welcome to my life. I should then willingly die. Tell them not to sell us until they have proved my words to be false; and not to wrong both themselves and us by trusting too much to the words of a stranger.”
To this communication the merchants made reply: that they had been told that slaves brought from the desert into the Empire of Morocco could, and sometimes did, claim the protection of that government, which set them free without paying anything; and those who had been at the expense of bringing them did not get even thanks for their trouble.
One of the merchants, whose name was Bo Muzem, seemed inclined to listen with some favour to the representations of Harry; but he was overruled by the other two: so that all the young Englishman’s assertions about the wealth of his parents at home, and the immense worth he and his comrades were to their country, as officers in its navy, failed to convince those to whom his words were addressed.
The merchants at length went away, leaving Harry and Colin in an agony of despair; while Sailor Bill and the Krooman seemed wholly indifferent about their future destiny. The prospect of being again taken to the desert seemed to have so benumbed the intellect of both, as to leave them incapable of emotion.
Hope, fear, and energy, appeared to have forsaken the old sailor, who, usually so fond of thinking aloud, had not now sufficient spirit left, even for the anathematising of his enemies.
Chapter Seventy Five.
El Haji.
Late in the evening of the second day passed within the walls of the town, two travellers knocked at the gate for admittance.
One of them gave a name which created quite a commotion in the village, all seeming eager to receive the owner with some show of hospitality.
The merchants sat up to a late hour, in company with these strangers and the sheik of the place.
Notwithstanding this, they were astir upon the following morning before daybreak, busied in making preparations to renew their journey.
Our adventurers, on being allowed some breakfast, were commanded to eat it in all haste, and then assist in preparing the animals for the road.
They were also informed that they were to be taken back to the Saara, and sold.
“Shall we go, or die?” asked Colin. “I, for one, had rather die than again pass through the hardships of a journey in the desert.”
Neither of the others made any reply to this. The spirit of despair had taken too strong a hold upon them.
The merchants were themselves obliged to caparison the animals; and just as they were about to use some strong arguments to induce their refractory slaves to mount, they were told that “El Haji” (“the pilgrim”) wished to have an interview with the Christians.
Soon after, one of the strangers who had entered the town the night before, was seen slowly approaching.
He was a tall, venerable-looking Arab, with a long white beard reaching down to the middle of his breast.
Having performed the pilgrimage to the Prophet’s Tomb, he was entitled to the respect and hospitality of all good Mussulmans, whithersoever he might wander.
With the Krooman as interpreter, he asked many questions; and seemed to be much interested in the fate of the miserable looking objects before him.
After his inquiries had been answered as to the name of the vessel in which they had reached the country, the time they had passed in slavery, and the manner of treatment which had produced their emaciated and wretched condition, he made other inquiries about their friends and relatives at home.
Harry informed him that Colin and himself had parents, brothers, and sisters, who were now probably mourning them as lost; that they and their two companions were sure to be ransomed, could they find some one who would take them to Mogador. He also added that their present masters had promised to take them to that place, but were now prevented from doing so, through an apprehension that they would not be rewarded for their trouble.
“I will do all I can to assist you,” said El Haji, after the Krooman had given the interpretation of Harry’s speech. “I owe a debt of gratitude to one of your countrymen, and I shall endeavour to repay it. When in Cairo I was unwell, and in want of food. An officer belonging to an English ship of war gave me a coin of gold. That piece of money proved both life and fortune to me; for with it I was able to continue my journey, and reach my friends. We are all the children of the true God; and it is our duty to assist one another. I must have a talk with your masters.”
The old pilgrim then turning to the three merchants, said—
“My friends, you have promised to take these Christian slaves to Swearah, where they might be redeemed. Are you bad men, who fear not God, that your promise should be thus broken?”
“We think that they have deceived us,” answered one of the merchants, “and we are afraid to carry them within the emperor’s dominions, where they might be taken from us without our receiving anything. We are poor men, and nearly all our merchandise has been given for these slaves. We cannot afford to lose them.”
“You will not lose the value of them,” rejoined the old man, “by taking them to Swearah. They belong to a country the Government of which will not allow its subjects to remain in bondage; and there is not an English merchant in Swearah that would not redeem them. Any one who should refuse to do so would scarce dare return to his own country again. You will make more by taking them to Swearah than anywhere else.”
“But they can give themselves up to the governor when they reach Swearah,” urged one of the merchants, “and we may be ordered out of the town without receiving a single dollar for them. Such has been done before. The good sheik here knows of an Arab merchant who was treated so. He lost all, while the governor got the ransom, and put it in his own pocket.”
This was an argument El Haji was unable to answer; but he was not long in finding a plan for removing the difficulty thus presented.
“Do not take them within the empire of Morocco,” said he, “until after you have been paid for them. Two of you can stay with them here, while the third goes on to Swearah with a letter from this young man to his friends. You have as yet no proof that he is trying to deceive you; and therefore, as true men, you have no excuse for breaking your promise to him. Take a letter to Swearah; and if the money be not paid, then do with them as you please, and the wrong will not rest upon your heads.”
Bo Muzem, the youngest of the merchants, immediately seconded the pilgrim’s proposal, and spoke energetically in its favour.
He observed they were but one day’s journey from Agadeer, a frontier town of Morocco; and that from there Swearah could be reached in three days.
The other two for a few minutes held consultation apart; and then one of them announced that they had resolved upon following El Haji’s advice. Bo Muzem might go to Swearah as the bearer of a letter from Harry to his uncle.
“Tell the young man,” said one of the merchants, addressing himself to the interpreter, “tell him from me, that if the ransom be not paid, he shall surely die on Bo Muzem’s return. Tell him that.”
The Krooman made the communication, and Harry without demur accepted the conditions.
A piece of dirty crumpled paper, a reed pen, and some ink, were then placed before Harry. While the letter was being written, Bo Muzem commenced making preparations for his journey.
Knowing that their only hope of liberty depended on their situation being made known to some countryman resident in Mogador, Harry took up the pen; and, with much difficulty, succeeded in scribbling the following words:—
“Sir,—Two midshipmen of H.M.S. — (cast away a few weeks ago near Cape Blanco), and two seamen, are now held in slavery at a small town one day’s journey from Agadeer. The bearer of this note is one of our masters. His business in Mogador is to learn if we will be ransomed; and if he be unsuccessful in finding any one who will pay the money to redeem us, the writer of this note is to be killed. If you cannot or will not pay the money they require (one hundred and fifty dollars for each) please direct the bearer to some one whom you think will do so.
“There is another midshipman from the same vessel, and an English sailor, one day’s journey south of this place.
“Perhaps the bearer of this note, Bo Muzem, may be induced to purchase them, so that they also may be ransomed.
“Henry Blount.”
This letter Harry folded, and directed to “Any English merchant in Mogador.”
By the time it was written, Bo Muzem had mounted and made himself ready for the road.
After receiving the letter, he wished Harry to be informed once more, that, should the journey to Swearah prove a fruitless one, nothing but his (Harry’s) life would compensate him (Bo Muzem) for the disappointment.
After promising to be back in eight days, and enjoining upon his partners to look well after their property during his absence, Bo Muzem took his departure for the port of Mogador.
Chapter Seventy Six.
Bo Muzem’s Journey.
Although an Arab merchant, Bo Muzem was an honest man, one, who in all business transactions, told the truth, and expected to hear it from others.
Notwithstanding this, he pursued his journey towards Mogador with but a faint belief that the representations made by the young Englishman would prove true, and with the determination of taking the life of the latter should he find himself deceived. He placed more faith in the story told him by the sheik than in the mere hypothesis of the pilgrim, that the white slaves would certainly find some one to ransom them.
His journey was partly undertaken through a sense of duty. After the promise made to the slaves, he thought it but right to become fully convinced that they were not to be redeemed before the idea of taking them to Mogador could be honourably abandoned.
He pressed forward upon his journey with the perseverance and self-denial so peculiar to his race. After crossing the spurs of the Atlas Mountains he reached, on the evening of the third day, a small walled town, within three hours’ ride of the famed seaport of Mogador.
Here he stopped for the night, intending to proceed to the city early on the next morning. Immediately on entering the town, Bo Muzem met a person whose face wore a familiar look.
It was the grazier to whom, but a few days before, he had sold the two slaves, Terence and Jim.
“Ah my friend, you have ruined me!” exclaimed the grazier, after the first salutations had passed between them. “I have lost those two useless Christian dogs you sold me, and I am a ruined man.”
Bo Muzem requested him to explain himself.
“After your departure,” said the grazier, “I tried to get some work out of the infidels; but they would not obey me; and I believed they would have died before doing anything to make themselves useful. As I am a poor man, I could not afford to keep them in idleness; nor yet to kill them, which I had a strong inclination to do. The day after you left me, I received intelligence from Swearah, which commanded me to go there immediately no business of importance; and thinking that possibly some Christian fool in that place might give something for his infidel countrymen, I took the two dogs along with me.
“They promised that, if I would carry them to the English consul, he would pay a large price for their ransom. When we entered Mogador, and reached the consul’s house, the dogs told me that they were free; and defied me to take them out of the city. I could not get a piastre for my trouble and expense. The governor of Swearah and the Emperor of Morocco are on good terms with the infidels’ Government; and they also hate us Arabs of the desert. There is no justice in Mogador for such as we. If you take your slaves into the city, you will lose them.”
“I shall not bring them into the empire of Morocco,” replied Bo Muzem, “until I have first received the money for them.”
“You will never get it in Swearah. Their consul will not pay a dollar, but will try to have them liberated without giving you anything.”
“But I have a letter from one of the slaves to his uncle, a rich merchant in Swearah. The uncle will pay the money.”
“The slave has lied to you. He has no uncle there, and I can soon convince you that such is the case. There is now staying in this village a Mogador Jew, who is acquainted with every infidel merchant in the city, and he also understands the languages they speak. Let him see the letter.”
Anxious to be convinced of whether he was being deceived or not, Bo Muzem readily agreed to this proposition; and in company with the grazier, he repaired to the house where the Jew was residing.
The latter, on being shown Harry’s letter, and asked to whom it was addressed, replied—
“To any English merchant in Mogador.”
“Bismillah!” exclaimed Bo Muzem. “All English merchants cannot be uncles to the young dog who wrote this letter!”
“Tell me,” added he, “did you ever hear of an English merchant in Mogador named ‘For-God-sake-bias?’”
The Jew smiled, and with some difficulty restraining an inclination to laugh outright at the question, gave the Arab a translation of the words, “For God’s sake, buy us.”
Bo Muzem was now satisfied that he had been “sold.”
“I shall get no further,” said he, after they had parted with the Jew. “I shall return to my partners. We shall kill the Christian dog who wrote the letter and sell his two companions for what we can get for them.”
“That is your best plan,” rejoined the grazier. “They do not deserve freedom; and may Allah forbid that hereafter any true believer should try to help them to it!”
Early next morning Bo Muzem set out on his return journey, thankful for the good fortune that had enabled him so early to detect the imposture that was being practised upon him.
He was accompanied by the grazier, who chanced to be journeying in the same direction.
“The next Christian slaves I see for sale I intend buying,” remarked the latter, as they journeyed along.
“Bismillah!” exclaimed Bo Muzem; “that is strange. I thought you had had enough of them?”
“So I have,” assented the grazier; “but that’s just why I want more of them. I want revenge on the unbelieving dogs; and will buy them for the purpose of obtaining it. I will work them until they are too old for anything, and then let them die in a ditch.”
“Then buy the ones we have for sale,” proposed Bo Muzem. “We are willing to sell them cheap, all but one. The man who wrote this letter I must kill. I have sworn it by the Prophet’s beard.”
As both parties appeared anxious for a bargain, they soon came to an understanding as to the terms; and the grazier promised to give ten dollars in money and four heads of horses for each of the slaves that was for sale. He also agreed that one of his herdsmen should assist in driving the cattle to any settlement where a market might be found for them.
The simple Bo Muzem had now in reality been “sold”: for the story he had been told about the escape for the two slaves, Terence and Jim, was wholly and entirely false.
Chapter Seventy Seven.
Rais Mourad.
Six days had passed, during which the white slaves were comparatively well treated, far better than at any other time since their shipwreck. They were not allowed to suffer from thirst, and were supplied with nearly as much food as they required.
On the sixth day after the departure of Bo Muzem, they were visited by their masters, accompanied by a stranger who was a Moor.
They were commanded to get up on their feet; and were then examined by the Moor in a manner that awakened suspicions that he was about to buy them.
The Moor wore a caftan richly embroidered on the breast and sleeves, and confined around the waist with a silken sash or girdle.
A pair of small yellow Morocco leather boots peeped out beneath trousers of great width made of the finest satin; and on his head was a turban of bright scarlet silk.
Judging from the respect shown to him by the merchants, he was an individual of much importance. This was also evident from the number of his followers, all of whom were mounted on beautiful Arabian horses.
The appearance of his whole retinue gave evidence that he was some personage of great wealth and influence.
After he had examined the slaves, he retired with the two merchants; and shortly afterwards the Krooman learnt from one of his followers that the white slaves had become the property of the wealthy Moor.
The bright anticipations of liberty that had filled their souls for the last few days vanished at this intelligence. Each felt a shock of pain, of hopeless despair, that for some moments stunned him almost to speechlessness.
Harry Blount was the first to awaken to the necessity of action.
“Where are our masters the merchants?” he exclaimed. “They cannot, they shall not sell us. Come, all of you! Follow me!”
Rushing forth from the penn, that had been allowed them for a residence, the young Englishman, followed by his companions, started towards the dwelling of the sheik, to which place the merchants and the Moor had retired.
All were now excited with disappointment and despair; and on reaching the sheik’s house, the two Arab merchants were called out to listen to a volley of reproaches.
“Why have you sold us?” asked the Krooman, as the merchants came forth. “Have you not promised that we should be taken to Swearah, and has not your partner gone there to obtain the money for our ransom?”
The two merchants were, at this moment, on good terms with themselves and all the world besides. They had made what they believed to be a good bargain, and were in the humour for being agreeable.
Moreover, they did not wish to be thought guilty of a wrong, even by Christian slaves; and they therefore condescended to give some explanation.
“Suppose,” said one of them, “that our partner Bo Muzem should find a man in Mogador who is willing to ransom you, how much are we to get for you?”
“One hundred dollars for me,” answered the Krooman, “and one hundred and fifty for each of the others.”
“True; and for that we should have to take you there, and be at the expense of maintaining you on the road?”
“Yes.”
“Well, Rais Mourad, this wealthy Moor, has paid us one hundred and fifty dollars for each of you; and should we not be fools to take you all the way to Mogador for less money? Besides, we might not get paid anything, whereas we have received it in cash from Rais Mourad. You are no longer our slaves, but his.”
When the Krooman had made this communication to the others, they saw that all further parley with the Arab merchants was useless; and that their destiny was now in the keeping of Rais Mourad.
At Harry’s request, the Krooman endeavoured to ascertain in what direction the Moor was going to take them; but the only information they received was that Rais Mourad knew his own business, and was not in the habit of conferring with his slaves as to what he should do with them.
Some of the followers of the Moor now came forward; and the slaves were ordered back to their penn, where they found some food awaiting them. They were commanded to eat it immediately, as they were soon to set forth upon a long journey.
Not one of them, after their cruel disappointment, had any appetite; and Sailor Bill doggedly declared that he would never taste food again.
“Don’t despair, Bill,” said Harry; “there is yet hope for us.”
“Where, where is it?” exclaimed Colin; “I cannot perceive it.”
“If we are constantly changing owners,” argued Harry, “we may yet fall into the hands of some one who will take us to Mogador.”
“Is that your only hope?” asked Colin in a tone of disappointment.
“Think of poor Jim,” added Bill; “he’s ’ad fifty masters, been ten years in slavery, and not free yet; and no ’ope av it neyther.”
“Shall we go quietly with our new master?” asked Colin.
“Yes,” answered Harry; “I have had quite enough of resistance, and the beating that is sure to follow it. My back is raw at this moment. The next time I make any resistance, it shall be when there is a chance of gaining something by it, instead of a sound thrashing.”
Rais Mourad being unprovided with animals for his slaves to ride upon, and wishing to travel at a greater speed than they could walk, purchased four small horses from the sheik of the place. It was during the time these horses were being caught and made ready for the road, that our adventurers were allowed to eat their dinner.
Although Harry, as well as the others, had determined on making no opposition to going along with Rais Mourad, they were very anxious to learn where he intended to take them.
All the inquiries made by the Krooman, for the purpose of gratifying this curiosity, only produced the answer, “God knows, and will not tell you. Why should we do more than He?”
Just as the horses were brought out, and all were nearly ready for a start, there occurred a commotion at the gate of the town; and next moment Bo Muzem, accompanied by the grazier, rode in through the gateway.
Chapter Seventy Eight.
Bo Muzem back again.
As soon as the white slaves recognised the messenger to Mogador, they all rushed forward to meet him.
“Speak, Krooman!” exclaimed Harry. “Ask him if the money for our ransom will be paid? If so, we are free, and they dare not sell us again.”
“Here—here!” exclaimed Bill, pointing to the man who came along with Bo Muzem. “Axe this man where be brother Jim an’ Master Terence?”
Harry and Colin turned towards the man, from whom Bill desired this inquiry to be made, and recognised in him the grazier to whom Terence and Jim had been sold.
The Krooman had no opportunity for putting the question; for Bo Muzem, on drawing near to the gate of the town, had allowed his passion to mount into a violent storm. As soon as he beheld the slaves, he shouted out, “Christian dogs! you have deceived me! Let every man, woman, and child, in this town assemble, and be witnesses of the fate that this lying infidel so richly deserves. Let all witness the death of a slave, who has falsely declared he has an uncle in Swearah, named ‘For-God’s-sake-bias’. Let all witness the revenge Bo Muzem will take on the unbelieving dog who has deceived him.”
As soon as Bo Muzem’s tongue was stopped sufficiently to enable him to hear the voices of those around him, he was informed that the white slaves were all sold, the nephew of “For-God’s-sake-bias” among the rest, and on better terms than he and his partners had expected to get at Swearah.
Had Harry Blount been reserved, Bo Muzem would have been much pleased at this news; but he now declared that his partners had no right to sell without his concurrence—that he owned an interest in the slaves; and that the dog who had deceived him should not be sold, but should suffer the penalty incurred, for sending him, Bo Muzem, on his long and bootless journey.
Rais Mourad now came upon the ground. The Moor was not long in comprehending all the circumstances connected with the affair. He instantly ordered his followers to gather around the white slaves, and escort them outside the walls of the town.
Bo Muzem attempted to prevent the order from being executed. He was opposed by everybody, not only by by the Moor, but his own partners, as also the sheik of the town, who declared that there should be no blood spilt among those partaking of his hospitality.
The slaves were now mounted on the horses that had been provided for them, and conducted through the gateway, leaving Bo Muzem half frantic with impotent rage.
There was but one man to sympathise with him in his disappointment—the grazier to whom Terence and Jim had been sold, and who had made arrangements for the purchase of the other three.
Riding up to the Moor, this man declared that the slaves were his property, that he had purchased them the day before; and had given for each four horses, and ten dollars in money.
He loudly protested against being “choused” out of his bargain, and declared that he would bring two hundred men, if necessary, for the purpose of reclaiming his own.
Rais Mourad, paying no attention to this threat, gave orders to his followers to move on; and, although it was now almost night, he started off in the direction of Agadeer.
Before he had proceeded far, he perceived the Arab grazier riding at full speed in the opposite direction, and towards his own home.
“I wish,” said Colin, “that we had made some inquiries of that fellow about Jim and Terence; but it’s too late now.”
“Yes, too late,” echoed Harry; “and I wish that he had obtained possession in the place of our present master; we should then have all come together again. But what are we to think of this last turn of Fortune’s wheel?”
“I am rather pleased at it,” answered Colin. “A while ago we were in despair because the Moor had bought us. That was a mistake. If he had not done so, you, Harry, would have been killed.”
“Bill!” added the young Scotchman, turning to the sailor, “what are you dreaming about?”
“Nothink,” answered Bill, “I’m no goin’ to drame or think any mair.”
“We are agwine straight for Swearah,” observed the Krooman, as he spoke glancing towards the north-west.
“That is true,” exclaimed Harry, looking in the same direction. “Can it be that we are to be taken to Mogador, after all? If so, there is hope for us yet.”
“But Bo Muzem could find no one there who would pay the money for our ransom,” interposed Colin.
“He nebba go thar,” said the Krooman. “He nebba hab de time.”
“I believe the Krooman is right,” said Harry. “We have been told that Mogador is four days’ journey from here; and the merchant was gone but six days.”
The conversation of the slaves was here interrupted by the Moors, who kept constantly urging them to greater speed.
The night came on very dark, but Rais Mourad would not allow them to move at a slower pace.
Sailor Bill, being as he declared unused to “navigate any sort o’ land craft”, could only keep his seat on the animal he bestrode, by allowing it to follow the others, while he clutched its mane with a firm grasp of both hands.
The journey was continued until near midnight; when the old sailor, unable any longer to endure the fatigue, managed to check the pace of his animal and dismount.
The Moors endeavoured to make him proceed, but were unsuccessful.
Bill declared that should he again be placed on the horse, he should probably fall off and break his neck.
This was communicated to Rais Mourad, who had turned back in a rage to inquire the cause of the delay. It was the Krooman who acted as interpreter.
The Moor’s anger immediately subsided on learning that one of the slaves could speak Arabic.
“Do you and your companions wish for freedom?” asked Rais Mourad, addressing himself to the Krooman.
“We pray for it every hour.”
“Then tell that foolish man that freedom is not found here, that to obtain it he must move on along with me.”
The Krooman made the communication as desired.
“I don’t want to hear any more about freedom,” answered Bill; “I’ve ’eard enough av it. If any on ’em is goin’ to give us a chance for our liberty, let ’em do it without so many promises.”
The old sailor remained obstinate.
Neither entreaties nor threats could induce him to go farther; and Rais Mourad gave orders to his followers to halt upon the spot, saying that he should stay there for the remainder of the night. The halt was accordingly made, and a temporary camp established.
Although exhausted with their long, rough ride, Harry and Colin could not sleep. The hope of liberty was glowing too brightly within their bosoms.
This hope had not been inspired by anything that had been said or done by Rais Mourad, for they now placed no trust in the promises of any one.
Their hopes were simply based upon the belief that they were journeying towards Mogador, and that the Moor, their master, was an intelligent man—a man who ought to know that he would not lose his money by taking English subjects to a place where they would be sure of being ransomed.