Chapter Seventy Nine.
A Pursuit.
On the first appearance of day Rais Mourad ordered the march to be resumed, himself riding in the advance over a long ridge of sand. The sun soon after shone forth, and on a high hill about four leagues distant were seen the white walls of the City of Santa Cruz, or, as it is called by the Arabs, Agadeer.
Descending from the sand-ridge, the cavalcade moved over a level plain covered with grain crops and dotted here and there with small walled villages, each surrounded by a plantation of vines and date-trees.
At one of the villages near the road the cavalcade made halt and was admitted within the walls. Throwing themselves down in the shade of some date-trees the white slaves soon fell into a sound slumber.
Three hours after they were awakened to breakfast, which consisted of hot barley cakes and honey.
Before they had finished their repast, Rais Mourad came up to the spot and entered into conversation with the Krooman.
“What does the Moor say?” inquired Harry.
“He say dat if we be no bad, and no cheat him, he take us to Swearah to de English consul.”
“Of course we will promise that, or anything else,” asserted Harry, “and keep the promise too, if we can. He will be sure of being well paid for us. Tell him that!”
The Krooman obeyed; and the Moor, in reply, said that he was well aware that he would be paid something by the consul, but that he required a written promise from the slaves themselves as to the amount.
He wanted them to sign an agreement that he should receive two hundred dollars for each of them.
This they readily assented to; and the Moor then produced a piece of paper, a reed pen, and some ink.
Rais Mourad wrote the agreement himself in Arabic on one side of the paper, and then reading it sentence by sentence requested the Krooman to translate it to his companions.
The translation given by the Krooman was as follows:—
“To English Consul.
“We be four Christian slave. Rais Mourad buy us of Arab. We promise to gib him two hundred dollar for one, or eight hundred dollar for four, if he take us to you. Please pay him quick.”
Harry and Colin signed the paper without any hesitation, and it was then handed, along with the pen, to Sailor Bill.
The old sailor took the paper and, after carefully surveying every object around him, walked up to one of the saddles lying on the ground a few paces off. Spreading the paper on the saddle he knelt down and very deliberately set about the task of making his autograph.
Slowly, as the hand of a clock moving over the face of the dial, did Bill’s hand pass over the paper, while his head oscillated from side to side as each letter was being shaped.
After he had succeeded in painting a few characters which, in his opinion, expressed the name of “William McNeal,” the document was handed to Harry, who was asked to write a similar agreement on the other side of the paper, which they were also to sign.
Rais Mourad was determined on being certain that his slaves had put their names to such an agreement as he wished, and therefore had written it himself, so that he might not be deceived.
About two hours before sunset all were again in the saddle, and, riding out through the gateway of the town, took a path leading up the mountain on which stands the city of Santa Cruz.
When about half way up, a party of horsemen, between twenty and thirty in number, was seen coming after them at full speed.
Rais Mourad remembered the threat made by the grazier, who claimed the slaves as his property; and every exertion was made by him to reach the city before his party could be overtaken.
The horses ridden by the white slaves were small animals, in poor condition, and were unable to move up the steep hill with much speed, although the riders had been reduced by starvation to the very lightest of weights.
Before reaching the level plain on the top of the hill, the pursuers had gained on them rapidly, and lessened the distance between the two parties by nearly half a mile. The nearest gate of the city was still more than a mile ahead, and towards it the Moors urged their horses with all the energy that could be inspired by oaths, kicks, and blows.
As Rais Mourad’s party approached the gate, the heads of their pursuers were seen just rising over the crest of the hill behind them. But as the Moor saw that his slaves were now safe, he checked his speed, and the few yards that remained of the journey were performed at a slow pace: for the great man did not wish to enter the gate of a strange city in a hasty or undignified manner.
There was no delay in passing the sentinels; and in five minutes after the weary slaves dismounted from their nearly exhausted steeds, and were commanded by Rais Mourad to thank God that they had arrived safe within the limits of the great Empire of Morocco.
In less than a quarter of an hour later, Bo Muzem and the grazier rode through the gateway, accompanied by a troop of fierce-looking Arab horsemen.
The wrath of the merchant seemed to have waxed greater in the interval, and he appeared as if about to make an immediate attack upon Harry Blount, the chief object of his spiteful vengeance.
In this he was prevented by Rais Mourad, who appealed to an officer of the city guard to protect him and his property.
The officer informed Bo Muzem that, while within the walls of the city, he must not molest other people, and the latter was compelled to give his word that he would not do so, that is to say, he was “bound over to keep the peace.”
The other Arabs, in whose company he had come, were also given to understand that they were in a Moorish city; and, as they saw that they were powerless to do harm without receiving punishment, their fierce deportment soon gave way to a demeanour more befitting the streets of a civilised town.
Both pursued and pursuers were cautioned against any infringement of the laws of the place, and as a different quarter was assigned to each party, all chances of a conflict were, for the time, happily frustrated.
Chapter Eighty.
Moorish Justice.
The next morning, Rais Mourad was summoned to appear before the governor of the place. He was ordered also to bring his slaves along with him. He had no reluctance in obeying these orders; and a soldier conducted him and his followers to the governor’s residence.
Bo Muzem and the grazier were there before him; and the governor soon after made his appearance in the large room where both parties were waiting audience.
He was a fine-looking man, of amiable aspect, about sixty-five years of age. From his appearance, Harry and Colin had but little fear for the result of his decision in any appeal that might be made to him.
Bo Muzem was the first to speak. He stated that, in partnership with two other merchants, he had purchased the four slaves then present. He had never given his consent to the sale made by his partners to the Moor; and there was one of the slaves who, it had been distinctly understood, was not to be sold at all. That slave he now claimed as his own property. He had been commissioned by his partners to go to Swearah, and there dispose of the whole lot. He had sold the other two to his friend Mahommed, who was by his side. He had no claim on them. Mahommed, the grazier, was now their lawful owner.
The grazier was next called upon to make his statement.
This was soon done. All he had to say was, that he had purchased three Christian slaves from his friend, Bo Muzem; and had given four horses and ten dollars in money for each of them. They had been taken away forcibly by the Moor, Rais Mourad, from whom he now claimed them.
Rais Mourad was now called upon to answer the accusation. The question was put: why he retained possession of another man’s property?
In reply, he stated that he had purchased the slaves from two Arab merchants, and had paid for them on the spot, giving one hundred and fifty silver dollars for each.
After the Moor had finished his statement, the governor remained silent for an interval of two or three minutes.
Presently, turning to Bo Muzem, he asked, “Did your partners offer you a share of the money they received for the slaves?”
“Yes,” answered the merchant, “but I would not accept it.”
“Have you, or your partners, received from the man who claims three of the slaves, twelve horses and thirty dollars?”
After some hesitation, Bo Muzem answered in the negative.
“The slaves belong to the Moor, Rais Mourad, who has paid the money for them,” said the governor, “and they shall not be taken from him here. Depart from my presence, all of you.”
All retired; and, as they did so, the grazier was heard to mutter some words about there being no justice for poor Arabs in Morocco.
Rais Mourad gave orders to his followers to prepare for the road; and just as they were ready to start, he requested Bo Muzem to accompany him outside the walls of the city.
The merchant consented, on condition that his friend Mahommed the grazier should go along with him. A peculiar smile overspread the features of Rais Mourad as he granted this request.
The Arab grazier, anxious to have another opportunity of wrangling over his claim, accompanied his deluded companion outside the city gates.
“My good friend,” said Rais Mourad, patronisingly speaking to Bo Muzem, “you have been deceived. Had you taken these Christians to Swearah, as you promised to do, you would have been paid for them all that you could reasonably have asked. I live in Swearah, and was obliged to make a long journey to the south upon urgent business. Fortunately, on my return, I met with your partners, and bought their slaves from them. The profit I shall make on them will more than repay me all the expenses of my journey. The man Mahommed, whom you call your friend, has bought two other Christians. He has sold them to the English consul. Having made two hundred piastres by that transaction, he was anxious to trade you out of these others, and make a few hundred more. He was deceiving you for the purpose of obtaining your property at a cheap rate. There is but one God, Mahomet is his Prophet, and you, Bo Muzem, are a fool!”
Bo Muzem required no further evidence in confirmation of the truth of this statement. He could not doubt that the Moor was an intelligent man, who knew what he was about when buying the slaves. The grazier had certainly purchased the two slaves spoken of; had acknowledged having carried them to Swearah, and was now anxious to obtain the other three.
All was now clear to Bo Muzem; and for a moment he stood mute and motionless under a sense of shame at his own stupidity.
This feeling was succeeded by one of wild rage against the man who had so craftily outwitted him.
Drawing his scimitar, he rushed towards the grazier; who, having been attentive to all that had been said, was not wholly unprepared for the attack.
The Arabs generally never acquire much skill in the use of the scimitar; and an affair between them with this weapon is soon decided.
The combat between the merchant and his antagonist was not an exception to other affrays of the kind. It was a desperate struggle for life or death, witnessed by the white slaves, who felt no sympathy for either of the combatants.
A Mussulman in a quarrel generally places more dependence on the justice of his cause than on his strength or skill; and when such is not the case, much of his natural prowess is lost to him.
Confident in the rectitude of his indignation, Bo Muzem, with his Mahommedan ideas of fatalism, was certain that the hour had not yet arrived for him to die; nor was he mistaken.
His impetuous onset could not be resisted by a man unfortified with the belief that he had acted justly; and Mahommed the grazier was soon struck to the ground, and left rolling in the dust in the agonies of death.
“There’s one less av ’em, anyhow!” exclaimed Sailor Bill, as he saw Jim’s master cease to exist. “I wish he had brought brother Jim and Master Terence here afore he died. I wonder what he has done wi’ ’em?”
“We should learn, if possible,” answered Harry, “and before we get any farther away from them. Suppose we speak to the Moor about them? He may be able to get possession of them for us.”
At Harry’s request, the Krooman proceeded to make the desired communication; but was prevented by Rias Mourad, who peremptorily ordered the slaves into their places, for the purpose of continuing the journey which the tragic incident had interrupted.
After cautioning Bo Muzem to beware of the followers of Mahommed, who now lay dead at his feet, the Moor, placing himself at the head of his kafila, moved off in the direction of Mogador.
Chapter Eighty One.
The Jews’ Leap.
The road followed by Rais Mourad on the day after leaving Santa Cruz was through a country of very uneven surface.
Part of the time the kafila would be traversing a narrow valley by the seashore, and in the next hour following a zigzag path up the side of some precipitous mountain.
In such places the animals would have to proceed in single file, while the Moor kept constantly cautioning his slaves against falling from the backs of their horses.
While stopping for an hour at noon for the animals to be rested, the Krooman turned over a flat stone, and underneath it discovered a large scorpion.
After making a hole in the sand about six inches deep, and five or six in diameter, he “chucked” the reptile into it.
He then went in search of a few more scorpions to keep the prisoner company. Under nearly every stone turned over, one or more of these reptiles were found; all of which the Krooman cast into the hole where he had placed the first.
When he had secured about a dozen within the walls of a prison from which they could not escape, he began teasing them with a stick.
Enraged at this treatment, the reptiles commenced a mortal combat among themselves, a spectacle which was witnessed by the white slaves with about the same interest as that between the two Arabs in the morning. In other words, they did not care who got the worst of it.
A battle between two scorpions would commence with much active skirmishing on both sides, each seeking to fasten its claws on the other.
Whenever one of the reptiles succeeded in getting a fair grip, its adversary would exhibit every disposition to surrender, apparently begging for its life. But all to no purpose, as no quarter would be given.
The champion would inflict the fatal sting; and the unfortunate individual receiving it would expire upon the instant.
After all the scorpions had been killed, except one, the Krooman himself finished the survivor with a blow of his stick.
When rebuked by Harry, for what the young Englishman regarded as an act of wanton cruelty, he answered that “it was the duty of every man to kill scorpions.”
In the afternoon the kafila reached a place called the Jews’ Leap. It was a narrow path along the side of a mountain, the base of which was washed by the sea.
The path was about half a mile long and not more than four or five feet broad. The right-hand side was bounded by a wall of rocks, in some places perpendicular and rising to a height of several hundred feet.
On the left-hand side was the Atlantic Ocean, about four hundred feet below the level of the path.
There was no hope for any one who should fall from this path—no hope but heaven.
Not a bush, tree, or any obstacle was seen to offer the slightest resistance to the downward course of a falling body.
The Krooman had travelled this track before, and therefore knew it. He informed his companions that no one ever ventured on the path in wet weather; that it was at all times considered dangerous; but that as it saved a tiresome journey of seven miles around the mountain, it was generally taken in dry seasons. He further told them that the name of the “Jews’ Leap”, was given to the precipice from a number of Jews having once been forced over it.
It was in the night-time. They had met a numerous body of Moors coming in the opposite direction. Neither party could turn back; a conflict arose, and several on both sides were hurled over the precipice into the sea.
On this occasion as many Moors as Jews had been thrown from the path; but it had pleased the former to give the spot the name of the “Jews’ Leap”, which it still retains.
Before venturing upon this dangerous road, Rais Mourad was careful to ascertain that no one was coming from the opposite direction.
After shouting at the top of his voice, and getting no reply, he led the way along the ledge, bidding his followers to trust more to their animals than to themselves.
As the white slaves entered on the pass, two Moors were left behind to come after them, as a guard. When all had proceeded a short distance along the ledge, the horse ridden by Harry Blount became frightened. It was a young animal; and having been reared upon the plains of the desert, was unused to mountain roads.
While the other horses were walking along very cautiously, Harry’s steed suddenly stopped, and refused to go any farther.
In such a place a rider has good cause to be alarmed at any eccentric behaviour in the animal he bestrides; and Harry was just preparing to dismount, when his horse commenced making a retrograde movement, as if determined to turn round and go back.
The young Englishman was behind his companions, and closely followed by one of the Moors. The latter becoming alarmed for his own safety, struck the refractory horse a blow with his musket in order to force it on.
In an instant the hind legs of the foolish animal dropped over the edge of the precipice, while its body with the weight of its rider clinging to its neck, was about evenly balanced on the brink.
The horse made a violent struggle to avoid going over. With its nose and forefeet laid close along the path, it vainly strove to regain the position from which it had so imprudently parted.
At this moment its rider determined to make a desperate exertion for the saving of his life.
Seizing the animal by the ears, and drawing himself up, he placed one foot on the brink of the precipice; and then sprang clear over the horse’s head, just as the creature relinquished its hold.
In another instant the unfortunate quadruped was precipitated into the sea, its body striking the water with a dull plunge, as if the life had already gone out of it.
The remainder of the ledge was traversed without any difficulty; and after all had got safely over, Harry’s companions were loud in congratulating him upon his narrow escape.
The youth remained silent.
His soul was too full of gratitude to God to take any heed of the words of man.
Chapter Eighty Two.
Conclusion.
On the evening of the second day after passing the Jews’ Leap, Rais Mourad, with his followers, reached the city of Mogador, but too late to enter its gates, which were closed for that day.
For a great part of the night, Harry, Colin, and Sailor Bill were unable to sleep.
They were kept awake by the memory of the sufferings they had endured in the desert, but more by the anticipation of liberty, which they believed to be now near.
They arose with the sun, impatient to enter the city and learn what was to be their fate; but Rais Mourad, knowing that no business could be done until three or four hours later, would not permit them to pass inside the gate.
For three hours they waited with the greatest impatience. So much had their minds become excited with the prospect of getting free that this delay began to bring about the opposite extreme of despair, when they were again elated at the sight of Rais Mourad returning from the town.
Giving the command to his followers, he led the way through the great city gate.
After passing along several narrow streets, on turning a corner our adventurers saw, waving over the roof of one of the houses, a flag that filled their souls with joy inexpressible. It was the flag of Old England!
It indicated the residence of the English consul. On seeing it, all three gave forth a loud simultaneous cheer, and hastened forward in the midst of a crowd of Moorish men, women and children that had collected around them.
Rais Mourad knocked at the gate of the Consulate, which was instantly opened, and the white slaves were ushered into the court-yard. At the same instant two individuals came running forth from the house. They were Terence and Jim!
A fine-looking man, about fifty years of age, now stepped forward; and taking Harry and Colin by the hand, congratulated them on the certainty of soon recovering their liberty.
The presence of Terence and Jim in the Consulate at Mogador was soon explained. The Arab grazier, after buying them, had started immediately for Swearah taking the two along with him. On bringing them to the English consul he received the amount of their redemption, and they were at once set free. At the same time he had given his promise to purchase the other three white slaves and bring them to Mogador.
The consul made no hesitation in paying the price that had been promised for Harry, Colin and Bill; but he did not consider himself justified in expending the money of his Government in the redemption of the Krooman, who was not an English subject.
The poor fellow, on hearing this, was overwhelmed with despair at the prospect of being restored to a life of perpetual slavery.
His old companions in misfortune could not remain tranquil spectators of his grief. They promised he should be free. Each of the middies had wealthy friends at home on whom he could draw for money; and they were in hopes that some English merchant in Mogador would advance the amount.
They were not disappointed. The very next day the Krooman’s difficulty was settled to his satisfaction.
The consul having mentioned his case to several foreign merchants, a subscription list was opened; and the cash necessary to the purchase of his freedom was easily procured.
The three mids were furnished with plenty of everything they required; and only awaited the arrival of some English ship to carry them back to the shores of their native land.
They had not long to wait; for shortly after, the tall masts of a British man-of-war threw their shadows athwart the waters of Mogador Bay.
The middies were once more installed in quarters that befitted them; while Sailor Bill and his brother, as well as their Krooman comrade, found a welcome in the forecastle of the ship.
All three of these young officers afterwards rose to rank and distinction in the naval service of their country. It was their good fortune often afterwards to come in contact with each other, and talk laughingly of that terrible time, no longer viewed with dread or aversion, when they were serving their apprenticeship as Boy Slaves in the Saara.