Chapter Forty Four.
Colin in Luck.
The next morning when the caravan started, Colin again had the care of the young black. He did not always have to carry him, as part of the time the boy trotted along by his side.
During the fore part of the day the young Scotchman with his charge easily kept up with his companions, and some of the time might be seen a little in advance of them. His kind attentions to the boy were observed by Golah, who showed some sign of human feeling, by exhibiting a contortion of his features intended for a smile.
Towards noon, Colin appeared to become fatigued with the toil of the journey, and then fell back to the rear, as he had done the evening before. Again the anxious mother, ever mindful of the welfare of her offspring, was seen to check her camel, and wait until Colin and the boy overtook her.
Sailor Bill had been much surprised at Colin’s conduct the evening before, especially at the patient manner in which the youth had submitted to the task of looking after the child. There was a mystery in the young Scotchman’s behaviour he could not comprehend, a mystery that soon became more profound. It had also attracted the attention of Harry and Terence, notwithstanding the many unpleasant circumstances of the journey calculated to abstract their thoughts from him and his charge.
Shortly after noon, the woman was seen driving Colin up to the kafila, urging him forward with loud screams, and blows administered with the knotted end of the rope by which she guided her maherry.
After a time, Golah, apparently annoyed by her shrill scolding voice, ordered her to desist, and permit the slave to continue his journey in peace.
Although unable to understand the meaning of her words, Colin must have known that the woman was not using terms of endearment.
The screaming angry tone, and the blows of the rope, might have told him this; and yet he submitted to her reproaches and chastisements with a meekness and a philosophic resignation which surprised his companions.
When his thoughts were not too much absorbed by painful reveries over the desire for food and water, Harry endeavoured to converse with the Krooman already mentioned. He now applied to the man for an interpretation of the words so loudly vociferated by the angry negress, and launched upon the head of the patient young Scotchman.
The Krooman said that she had called the lad a lazy pig, a Christian dog, and an unbelieving fool, and that she threatened to kill him unless he kept up with the kafila.
On the third day of their journeying, it chanced not to be quite so hot as on the one preceding it; and consequently the sufferings of the slaves, especially from thirst, were somewhat less severe.
“I shall never endure such agony again,” said Harry, speaking of his experience of the previous day. “Perhaps I may die for the want of water, and on this desert; but I can never suffer so much real pain a second time.”
“’Ow is that, Master ’Arry?” asked Bill.
“Because I cannot forget, after my experience of last night, that the greater the desire for water the more pleasure there is in gratifying it; and the anticipation of such happiness will go far to alleviate anything I may hereafter feel.”
“Well, there be summat in that, for sartin,” answered the sailor, “for I can’t help thinkin’ about ’ow nice our supper was last night, and only ’ope it will taste as well to-night again.”
“We have learnt something new,” said Terence; “new, at least, to me; and I shall know how to live when I get where there is plenty. Heretofore I have been like a child, eating and drinking half my time, not because I required it, but because I knew no better. There is Colly now, he don’t seem to appreciate the beauty of this Arabian style of living; or he may understand it better than we. Perhaps he is waiting until he acquires a better appetite, so that he may have all the more pleasure in gratifying it. Where is he now?”
They all looked about. They saw that Colin had once more fallen behind; and that the mother of the child was again waiting for him.
Harry and Terrence walked on, expecting that they would soon see their companion rudely driven up by the angry negress.
Sailor Bill stopped, as though he was interested in being a witness to the scene thus anticipated.
In a few minutes after, the young Scotchman, with the child, was hurried forward by the enraged hag, who once more seemed in a great passion at his inability or unwillingness to keep up with the others.
“I ken it a’ noo,” said Bill, after he had stood for some time witnessing the ill-treatment heaped upon Colin. “Our freen Colly’s in luck. I’ve no langer any wonder at his taking a’ this trouble wi’ the blackey bairn.”
“What is it, Bill? What have you learnt now?” asked Terrence and Harry, in a breath.
“I’ve larnt why Colly could not eat his dinner yesterday.”
“Well, why was it?”
“I’ve larnt that the nager’s anger with Colly is all a pretince, an’ that she is an old she-schemer.”
“Nonsense, Bill; that is all a fancy of yours,” said Colin, who, with the child on his shoulders, was now walking alongside his companions.
“It is no fancy of mine, mon,” answered Bill, “but a fancy o’ the woman for a bra’ fair luddie. What is it that she gives you to eat, Maister Colly?”
Seeing that it was idle to conceal his good fortune any longer, Colin now confessed it, informing them that the woman, whenever she could do so without being seen, had given him a handful of dried figs, with a drink of camel’s milk from a leathern bottle which she carried under her cloak.
Notwithstanding the opinion they had just expressed, on the enjoyment attending prolonged thirst and hunger, Colin’s companions congratulated him on his good fortune, one and all declaring their willingness to take charge of the little darkey, on the condition of being similarly rewarded.
They had no suspicion at that moment that their opinions might soon undergo a change; and that Colin’s supposed good fortune would ere long become a source of much uneasiness to all of them.
Chapter Forty Five.
Sailor Bill’s Experiment.
The afternoon of this day was very warm, yet Golah rode on at such a quick pace, that it required the utmost exertion of the slaves to keep up with him.
This manner of travelling, under the circumstances in which he was required to pursue it, proved too severe for Sailor Bill to endure with any degree of patience.
He became unable, as he thought, to walk any farther; or, if not wholly unable, he was certainly unwilling, and he therefore sat down.
A heavy shower of blows produced no effect in moving him from the spot where he had seated himself; and the two young men who acted as guards, not knowing what else to do, and having exhausted all their arguments, accompanied by a series of kicks at length appealed to Golah.
The sheik instantly turned his maherry and rode back.
Before he had reached the place, however, the three mids had used all their influence in an endeavour to get their old companion to move on. In this they had been joined by the Krooman, who entreated Bill, if he placed any value on his life, to get up before Golah should arrive, for he declared the monster would show him no mercy.
“For God’s sake,” exclaimed Harry Blount, “if it is possible for you to get up and go a little way farther, do so.”
“Try to move on, man,” said Terence, “and we will help you. Come, Bill, for the sake of your friends try to get up. Golah is close by.”
While thus speaking, Terence, assisted by Colin, took hold of Bill and tried to drag him to his feet; but the old sailor obstinately persisted in remaining upon the ground.
“Perhaps I could walk on a bit farther,” said he, “but I won’t. I’ve ’ad enough on it. I’m goin’ to ride, and let Golah walk awhile. He’s better able to do it than I am. Now don’t you boys be so foolish as to get yersels into trouble on my account. All ye’ve got to do is to look on, an’ ye’ll larn somethin’. If I’ve no youth an’ beauty, like Colly, to bring me good luck, I’ve age and experience, and I’ll get it by schamin’.”
On reaching the place where the sailor was sitting, Golah was informed of what had caused the delay, and that the usual remedy had failed of effect.
He did not seem displeased at the communication. On the contrary, his huge features bore an expression that for him might have been considered pleasant.
He quietly ordered the slave to get up, and pursue his journey.
The weary sailor had blistered feet; and, with his strength almost exhausted by hunger and thirst, had reached the point of desperation. Moreover, for the benefit of himself and his young companions, he wished to try an experiment.
He told the Krooman to inform the sheik that he would go on, if allowed to ride one of the camels.
“You want me to kill you?” exclaimed Golah, when this communication was made to him; “you want to cheat me out of the price I have paid for you; but you shall not. You must go on. I, Golah, have said it.”
The sailor, in reply, swore there was no possible chance for them to take him any farther without allowing him to ride.
This answer to the sheik’s civil request was communicated by the Krooman; and, for a moment, Golah seemed puzzled as to how he should act.
He would not kill the slave, after saying that he must go on; nor would he have him carried, since the man would then gain his point.
He stood for a minute meditating on what was to be done. Then a hideous smile stole over his features. He had mastered the difficulty.
Taking its halter from the camel, he fastened one end of it to the saddle, and the other around the wrists of the sailor. Poor Old Bill made resistance to being thus bound, but he was like an infant in the powerful grasp of the black sheik.
The son and brother-in-law of Golah stood by with their muskets on full cock, and the first move any of Bill’s companions could have made to assist him, would have been a signal for them to fire.
When the fastenings were completed, the sheik ordered his son to lead the camel forward; and the sailor, suddenly jerked from his attitude of repose, was rudely dragged onward over the sand.
“You are going now!” exclaimed Golah, nearly frantic with delight; “and we are not carrying you, are we? Neither are you riding? Bismillah! I am your master!”
The torture of travelling in this manner was too great to be long endured; and Bill had to take to his feet and walk forward as before. He was conquered; but as a punishment for the trouble he had caused, the sheik kept him towing at the tail of the camel for the remainder of that day’s journey.
Any one of the white slaves would once have thought that he possessed too much spirit to allow himself, or a friend, to be subjected to such treatment as Bill had that day endured.
None of them was deficient in true courage; yet the proud spirit, of which each had once thought himself possessed, was now subdued by a power to which, if it be properly applied, all animate things must yield.
That power was the feeling of hunger; and there is no creature so wild and fierce but will tamely submit to the dominion of the man who commands it. It is a power that must be used with discretion, or the victims to it, urged by desperation, may destroy their keeper. Golah had the wisdom to wield it with effect; for by it, with the assistance of two striplings, he easily controlled those who, under other circumstances, would have claimed the right to be free.
Chapter Forty Six.
An unjust Reward.
The next morning on resuming the journey Golah condescended to tell his captives that they should reach a well or spring that afternoon, and stay by it for two or three days.
This news was conveyed to Harry by the Krooman; and all were elated at the prospect of rest, with a plentiful supply of water.
Harry had a long conversation with the Krooman as they were pursuing their route. The latter expressed his surprise that the white captives were so contented to go on in the course in which the sheik was conducting them.
This was a subject about which Harry and his companions had given themselves no concern; partly because they had no idea that Golah was intending to make a very long journey, and partly because they supposed his intentions, whatever they were, could not be changed by anything they might propose.
The Krooman thought different. He told Harry that the route they were following, if continued, would lead them far into the interior of the country, probably to Timbuctoo; and that Golah should be entreated to take them to some port on the coast, where they might be ransomed by an English consul.
Harry perceived the truth of these suggestions; and, after having a conversation with his companions, it was determined between them that they should have a talk with Golah that very night.
The Krooman promised to act as interpreter, and to do all in his power to favour their suit. He might persuade the sheik to change his destination, by telling him that he would find a far better market in taking them to some place where vessels arrive and depart, than by carrying them into the interior of the country.
The man then added, speaking in a mysterious manner, that there was one more subject on which he wished to give them warning. When pressed to mention it, he appeared reluctant to do so.
He was at last prevailed upon to be more communicative; when he proclaimed his opinion, that their companion, Colin, would never leave the desert.
“Why is that?” asked Harry.
“Bom-bye he be kill. De sheik kill um.”
Although partly surmising his reasons for having formed this opinion, Harry urged him to further explain himself.
“Ef Golah see de moder ob de piccaninny gib dat lad one lilly fig, one drop ob drink, he kill um, sartin-sure. I see, one, two, seb’ral more see. Golah no fool. Bom-bye he see too, and kill um bof, de lad an’ de piccaninny moder.”
Harry promised to warn his companion of the danger, and save him before the suspicions of Golah should be aroused.
“No good, no good,” said the Krooman.
In explanation of this assertion, Harry was told that, should the young Scotchman refuse any favour from the woman, her wounded vanity would change her liking to the most bitter hatred, and she would then contrive to bring down upon him the anger of Golah, an anger that would certainly be fatal to its victim.
“Then what must I do to save him?” asked Harry.
“Noting,” answered the Krooman. “You noting can do. Ony bid him be good man, and talk much, pray to God. Golah wife lub him, and he sure muss die.”
Harry informed the sailor and Terence of what the Krooman had told him; and the three took counsel together.
“I believe as how the darkey be right,” said Bill. “Of course, if the swab Goliarh larns as ’ow one av ’is wives ha’ taken a fancy to Master Colly, ’twill be all up wi’ the poor lad. He will be killed, and mayhap eaten too, for that matter.”
“Like enough,” assented Terence. “And should he scorn her very particular attentions, her resentment might be equally as dangerous as Golah’s. I fear poor Colin has drifted into trouble.”
“What ye be afther sayin’ about the woman,” said Bill, “minds me o’ a little story I wunce heeard whin I was a boy. I read it in a book called the Bible. It was about a young man, somethin’ like Master Colly, barrin’ his name was Joseph. A potter’s wife tuck a fancy to him; but Joseph, bein’ a dacent an’ honest youngster, treated her wid contimpt, an’ came to great grief by doin’ that same. You must ’ave read that story, Master ’Arry,” continued Bill, turning from Terence to the young Englishman, and changing his style of pronunciation. “Did it not ’appen summers in this part o’ the world? Hif I remember rightly, it did. I know ’twas summers in furrin parts.”
“Yes,” answered Harry, “that little affair did happen in this part of the world, since it was in Africa; and our comrade has a fair prospect of being more unfortunate than Joseph. In truth, I don’t see how we shall be able to assist him.”
“There he is, about a hundred cable lengths astern,” said Bill, looking back. “And there’s the old ’oman, too, lookin’ sharp afther him, while Colly is atin’ the figs and drinkin’ the camel’s milk; and while I’m dying for a dhrop of that same. Old Goliarh is no doubt proud wi’ the great care she’s takin’ of his child; but won’t there be a row when he larns summat more? Won’t there, Master ’Arry?”
“There will, indeed,” answered Harry. “Colin will soon be up with us, and we must talk to him.”
Harry was right, for Colin soon after overtook them, having been driven up as usual by the negress, who seemed in great anger at the trouble he was causing her.
“Colin,” said Harry, when their companion and the child had joined them, “you must keep the woman away from you. Her partiality for you has already been noticed by others. The Krooman has just been telling us that you will not live much longer; that Golah is neither blind nor foolish; and that, on the slightest suspicion he has of the woman showing you any favour, even to giving you a fig, he will kill you.”
“But what can I do?” asked Colin. “If the woman should come to you and offer you a handful of figs and a drink of milk, could you refuse them?”
“No, I certainly could not. I only wish such an alternative would present itself; but you must manage in some way or other to keep away from her. You must not linger behind, but remain all the time by us.”
“If you knew,” asked Colin, “that you could quench your thirst by lagging a few paces behind, would you not do so?”
“That would be a strong temptation, and I should probably yield; but I tell you that you are in danger.”
Neither of Colin’s companions could blame him. Suffering as he was, from the ceaseless agony of hunger and thirst, any indiscretion, or even crime, seemed justifiable, for the purpose of obtaining relief.
The day became hotter and hotter, until in the afternoon the sufferings of the slaves grew almost unendurable. Sailor Bill appeared to be more severely affected than any of his companions. He had been knocking about the world for many long years injuring his constitution by dissipation and exposure in many climes; and the siege that thirst and hunger were now making to destroy his strength became each hour more perceptible in its effect.
By the middle of the afternoon it was with the utmost difficulty he could move along; and his tongue was so parched that in an attempt to speak he wholly failed. His hands were stretched forth towards Colin; who, since the warning he had received, had kept up along with the rest.
Colin understood the signal; and placed the boy on the old man’s shoulders. Bill wished to learn if the mother would reward him for taking care of her child, as she had his predecessor in the office. To carry out the experiment, he allowed himself to be left in the rear of the caravan.
Golah’s son and the other guard had noticed the old sailor’s suffering condition, and objected to his being encumbered with the child. They pointed to Harry and Terence. But Bill was resolute in holding on to his charge; and, cursing him for an unbelieving fool, they allowed him to have his own way.
Not long after the mother of the child was seen to stop her camel, and the three mids passed by her unnoticed. The old sailor hastened up as fast as his weary limbs would allow, to receive the hoped-for reward. But the poor fellow was doomed to a cruel disappointment.
When the woman perceived who had been entrusted with the carrying of her child, she pronounced two or three phrases in a sharp angry tone. Understanding them, the child dismounted from the sailor’s back, and ran with all speed towards her.
Bill’s reward was a storm of invectives, accompanied by a shower of blows with the knotted end of the halter. He strove to avoid the punishment by increasing his speed; but the camel seemed to understand the relative distance that should be maintained between its rider and the sailor, so that the former might deliver, and the latter receive the blows with the most painful effect. This position it kept until Bill had got up to his companions; his naked shoulders bearing crimson evidence of the woman’s ability in the handling of a rope’s end.
As she rode past Colin, who had again taken charge of the child, she gave the young Scotchman a look that seemed to say, “You have betrayed me!” and without waiting for a look in return, she passed on to join her husband at the head of the caravan.
The black slaves appeared highly amused at the sailor’s misfortunes. The interest had aroused their expiring energies; and the journey was pursued by them with more animation than before.
Bill’s disappointment was not without some beneficial effect upon himself. He was so much revived by the beating, that he soon after recovered his tongue; and as he shuffled on alongside his companions, they could hear him muttering curses, some in good English, some in bad, some in a rich Irish brogue, and some in the broadest Scotch.
Chapter Forty Seven.
The waterless Well.
Golah expected to reach the watering-place early in the evening; and all the caravan was excited by the anticipation of soon obtaining a plentiful supply of water.
It was well they were inspired by this hope. But for that, long before the sun had set, Sailor Bill and three or four others would have dropped down in despair, physically unable to move any farther. But the prospect of plenty of water to be found only a few miles ahead, brought at the same time, resolution, strength and life. Faint and feeble, they struggled on, nearly mad with the agony of nature’s fierce demands; and soon after sunset they succeeded in reaching the well.
It was dry!
Not a drop of the much desired element was shining in the cavity where they had expected to find it.
Sailor Bill, and some of the other slaves, sank upon the earth, muttering prayers for immediate death.
Golah was in a great rage with everything; and his wives, children, slaves, and camels, that were most familiar with his moods, rushed here and there to get out of his way.
Suddenly he seemed to decide on a course to be taken in this terrible emergency; and his anger, to some extent, subsided.
Unbuckling the last goat’s-skin of water from one of the camels, he poured out a small cup for each individual of the kafila. Each was then served with a little sangleh and a couple of dried figs.
All were now ordered to move on towards the west, Golah leading the way. The new route was at right angles to the course they had been following during the earlier part of the day.
Some of the slaves, who declared that they were unable to go farther, found out, after receiving a few ticklings of the stick, that they had been mistaken. The application of Golah’s cudgel awakened dormant energies of which they had not deemed themselves possessed.
After proceeding about two miles from the scene of their disappointment, Golah suddenly stopped, as he did so, giving to his followers some orders, in a low tone.
The camels were immediately brought into a circle, forced to kneel down, while their lading was removed from them.
While this was going on, the white captives heard voices and the trampling of horses’ hoofs.
The black sheik, with his highly educated ear, had detected the approach of strangers. This had caused him to order the halt.
When the noises had approached a little nearer, Golah called out in Arabic, “Is it peace?”
“It is,” was the answer; and as the strangers drew nearer the salutations of “Peace be with you!”
“Peace be with all here, and with your friends!” were exchanged.
The caravan they had met consisted of between fifteen and twenty men, some horses and camels; and the sheik who commanded it inquired of Golah from whence he came.
“From the west,” answered Golah, giving them to understand that he was travelling the same way as themselves.
“Then why did you not keep on to the well?” was the next inquiry.
“It is too far away,” answered Golah. “We are very weary.”
“It is not far,” said the chief, “not more than half a league. You had better go on.”
“No. I think it is more than two leagues, and we shall wait till morning.”
“We shall not. I know the well is not far away; and we shall reach it to-night.”
“Very well,” said Golah; “go, and may God be with you. But stay, masters, have you a camel to sell?”
“Yes, a good one. It is a little fatigued now, but will be strong in the morning.”
Golah was aware that any camel they would sell him that night would be one that could only move with much difficulty, one that they despaired of getting any farther on the way. The black sheik knew his own business best; and was willing they should think they had cheated him in the bargain.
After wrangling for a few minutes, he succeeded in buying their camel, the price being a pair of blankets, a shirt, and the dirk that had been taken from Terence. The camel had no cargo; and had for some time been forced onward at considerable trouble to its owner.
The strangers soon took their departure, going off in the direction of the dry well. As soon as they were out of sight Golah gave orders to reload the animals, and resume the interrupted march. To excite the slaves to a continuance of the journey, he promised that the camel he had purchased should be slaughtered on the next morning for their breakfast; and that they should have a long rest in the shade of the tents during the following day.
This promise, undoubtedly, had the anticipated effect in revivifying their failing energies, and they managed to move on until near daybreak, when the camel lately purchased laid itself down, and philosophically resisted every attempt at compelling it to continue the journey.
It was worn-out with toil and hunger, and could not recover its feet.
The other animals were stopped and unladen, the tents were pitched, and preparations made for resting throughout the day.
After some dry weeds had been collected for fuel, Golah proceeded to fulfil his promise of giving them plenty of food.
A noose was made at the end of a rope, and placed around the camel’s lower jaw. Its head was then screwed about, as far as it would reach, and the rope was made fast to the root of its tail, the long neck of the camel allowing its head to be brought within a few inches of the place where the rope was tied.
Fatima, the favourite, stood by, holding a copper kettle; while Golah opened a vein on the side of the animal’s neck near the breast-bone. The blood gushed forth in a stream; and before the camel had breathed its last, the vessel held to catch it had become filled more than half full.
The kettle was then placed over the fire, and the blood boiled and stirred with a stick until it had become as thick as porridge. It was then taken off, and when it had cooled down, it resembled, both in colour and consistency, the liver of a fresh-killed bullock.
This food was divided amongst the slaves, and was greedily devoured by all.
The heart and liver of the camel, Golah ordered to be cooked for his own family; and what little flesh was on the bones, was cut into strips, and hung up in the sun to dry.
In one portion of the camel’s stomach was about a gallon and a half of water, thick and dirty with the vegetation it had last consumed; but all was carefully poured into a goat’s-skin, and preserved for future use.
The intestines were also saved, and hung out in the sun to get cured by drying, to be afterwards eaten by the slaves.
During the day Harry and Terence asked for an interview with Golah; and, accompanied by the Krooman, were allowed to sit down by the door of his tent while they conversed with him.
Harry instructed the Krooman to inform their master, that if they were taken to some seaport, a higher ransom would be paid for them than any price for which they could be sold elsewhere.
Golah’s reply to this information was, that he doubted its truth; that he did not like seaport towns; that his business lay away from the sea; and that he was anxious to reach Timbuctoo as soon as possible. He further stated that, if all his slaves were Christian dogs, who had reached the country in ships, it might be worth his while to take them to some port where they would be redeemed; but as the most of them were of countries that did not pay ransoms for their subjects, there would be no use in his carrying them to the coast where they might escape from him, and he would then have had all his trouble for nothing.
He was next asked if he would not try to sell the white captives along with the two Kroomen, to some slave dealer, who would take them to the coast for a market.
Golah would not promise this. He said, that to do so, he should have to sell them on the desert, where he could not obtain half their value.
The only information they were able to obtain from him was, that they were quite certain of seeing that far-famed city, Timbuctoo, that was, if they should prove strong enough to endure the hardships of the journey.
After thanking Golah for his condescension in listening to their appeal, the Krooman withdrew followed by the others, who now, for the first time, began to realise the horror of their position. A plentiful supply of food, along with the day’s rest, had caused all the white slaves to turn their thoughts from the present to the future.
Harry Blount and Terence, after their interview with Golah, found Colin and Sailor Bill anxiously awaiting their return.
“Well, what’s the news?” asked Bill, as they drew near.
“Very bad,” answered Terence. “There is no hope for us; we are going to Timbuctoo.”
“No, I’m no going there,” said Bill, “if it was in another world I might see the place soon enough, but in this, niver, niver!”
Chapter Forty Eight.
The Well.
At an early hour next morning the caravan started on its journey, still moving westward. This direction Golah was compelled to pursue, to obtain a supply of water, although it was taking him no nearer his destination.
Two days’ journey was before them ere they could reach another well. While performing it, Golah, vexed at the delay thus occasioned, was in very ill-humour with things in general.
Some of his displeasure was vented upon the camel he was riding, and the animal was usually driven far ahead of the others.
The sheik’s wrath also fell upon his wives for lingering behind, and then upon the slaves for not following closer upon the heels of the camel. His son, and brother-in-law, would at intervals be solemnly cursed in the name of the Prophet for not driving the slaves faster.
Before the well had been reached, the four white slaves were in a very wretched condition. Their feet were blistered and roasted by the hot sand, and as the clothing allowed them was insufficient protection against the blazing sun, their neck and legs were inflamed and bleeding.
The intestines and most of the flesh of the slaughtered camel had been long ago consumed, as well as the filthy water taken from its stomach.
Colin had again established himself in the favour of the sheik’s wife, and was allowed to have the care of the child; but the little food and drink he received for his attention to it were dearly earned.
The weight of the young negro was a serious encumbrance in a weary journey through what seemed to be a burning plain; moreover, the “darkey”, in keeping its seat on the young Scotchman’s shoulders, had pulled a quantity of hair out of his head, besides rendering his scalp exceedingly irritable to further treatment of a like kind.
Hungry, thirsty, weak, lame, and weary, the wretched captives struggled on until the well was reached.
On arriving within sight of a small hill on which were growing two or three sickly bushes, Golah pointed towards it, at the same time turning his face to those who were following him. All understood the signal, and seemed suddenly inspired with hope and happiness. The travellers pressed forward with awakened energy, and after passing over the hill came in sight of the well at its foot.
The eagerness exhibited by the slaves to quench their thirst might have been amusing to any others than those who beheld them; but their master seemed intent on giving them a further lesson in the virtue of patience.
He first ordered the camels to be unladen, and the tents to be pitched. While some were doing this, he directed others to seek for fuel.
Meanwhile, he amused himself by collecting all the dishes and drinking-vessels, and placing them contiguous to the well.
He then attached a rope to a leathern bucket, and, drawing water from the reservoir, he carefully filled the utensils with the least possible waste of the precious fluid his followers were so anxious to obtain.
When his arrangements were completed, he called his wives and children around him. Then, serving out to each of them about a pint of the water, and giving them a few seconds for swallowing it, he ordered them off.
Each obeyed without a murmur, all apparently satisfied.
The slaves were next called up; and then there was a rush in real earnest. The vessels were eagerly seized, and their contents greedily swallowed. They were presented for more, refilled and again emptied.
The quantity of water swallowed by Sailor Bill and his three young companions, and the rapacity with which it was gulped down, caused Golah to declare that there was but one God, that Mahomet was his Prophet, and that four of the slaves about him were Christian swine.
After all had satisfied the demands of nature, Golah showed them the quantity of water he deemed sufficient for a thirsty individual, by drinking about a pint himself, not more than a fifth of the amount consumed by each of his white slaves.
Long years of short allowance had accustomed the negro sheik to make shift with a limited allowance of the precious commodity, and yet continue strong and active.
About two hours after they had reached the well, and just as they had finished watering the camels, another caravan arrived. Its leader was hailed by Golah with the words, “Is it peace?” the usual salutation when strangers meet on the desert.
The answer was, “It is peace;” and the new comers dismounted and pitched their camp.
Next morning Golah had a long talk with their sheik, after which he returned to his own tent in much apparent uneasiness. The caravan newly arrived consisted of eleven men, with eight camels and three Saaran horses. The men were all Arabs, none of them being slaves. They were well-armed, and carried no merchandise. They had lately come from the north-west, for what purpose Golah knew not, since the account the stranger sheik had given of himself was not satisfactory.
Though very short of provisions, Golah resolved not to leave the well that day; and the Krooman learnt that this resolution was caused by his fear of the strangers.
“If he is afraid of them,” said Harry, “I should suppose that would make him all the more anxious to get out of their company.”
The Krooman, in explanation, stated that if the Arabs were robbers, pirates of the desert, they would not molest Golah so long as he remained at the well.
In this the Krooman was correct. Highway robbers do not way-lay their victims at an inn, but on the road. Pirates do not plunder ships in a harbour, but out on the open ocean. Custom, founded on some good purpose, has established a similar rule on the great sandy ocean of the Saara.
“I wish they were robbers, and would take us from Golah!” said Colin. “We should then perhaps be carried to the north, where we might be ransomed some time or other. As it is, if we are to be taken to Timbuctoo, we shall never escape out of Africa.”
“We shall not be taken there,” cried Terence. “We shall turn robbers ourselves first. I will for one; and when I do, Golah shall be robbed of one of his slaves at least.”
“An’ that wan will be Misther Terence O’Connor, av coorse?” said Bill.
“Yes.”
“Thin ye will ’ave done no more than Master Colly, who has already robbed ’im av twa, the haffections av ’is wife an’ bairn.”
“That will do, Bill,” said Colin, who did not like hearing any allusion made to the woman. “We have something else that should engage our attention. Since we have learnt that they intend taking us to Timbuctoo, it is time we began to act. We must not go there.”
“That is understood,” said Harry; “but what can we do? Something should be done immediately. Every day we journey southward carries us farther from home, or the chance of ever getting there. Perhaps these Arabs may buy us, and take us north. Suppose we get the Krooman to speak to them?”
All consented to this course. The Krooman was called; and when informed of their wishes he said that he must not be seen speaking to the Arabs, or Golah would be displeased. He also stated, what the white captives had already observed, that Golah and his son were keeping a sharp watch over them, as well as over the strangers; and that an opportunity of talking to the Arab sheik might not be easily obtained.
While he was still speaking, the latter was observed proceeding towards the well to draw some water.
The Krooman instantly arose, and sauntered after.
He was observed by the quick eye of Golah, who called to him to come away; which he did, but not before quenching his thirst, that did not appear to be very great.
On the Krooman’s return from the well, he informed Harry that he had spoken to the Arab sheik. He had said, “Buy us. You will get plenty of money for us in Swearah;” and that the reply of the sheik was, “The white slaves are dogs, and not worth buying.”
“Then we have no hope from that source!” exclaimed Terence.
The Krooman shook his head; not despondently, but as if he did not agree in the opinion Terence had expressed.
“What! do you think there is any hope?” asked Harry.
The man gave a nod of assent.
“How? In what way?”
The Krooman vouchsafed no explanation, but sauntered silently away.
When the sun was within two or three hours of setting over the Saara the Arabs struck their tents and started off in the direction of the dry well, from whence Golah and his caravan had just come. After they had disappeared behind the hill, Golah’s son was sent to its top to watch them, while his women and slaves were ordered to strike the tents as quickly as possible.
Then waiting till the shades of night had descended over the desert, and the strangers were beyond the reach of vision, Golah gave orders to resume the march once more in a south-easterly direction, which would carry them away from the sea-coast, and, as the white slaves believed, from all chances of their ever recovering their freedom.
The Krooman, on the contrary, appeared to be pleased at their taking this direction, notwithstanding the objections he had expressed to going inland.
Chapter Forty Nine.
A momentous Inquiry.
During the night’s journey Golah still seemed to have some fear of the Arabs; and so great was the desire to place as much ground as possible between himself and them that he did not halt until the sun was more than two hours above the horizon.
For some time before a halt had been planned, Fatima, his favourite wife, had been riding by his side, and making what seemed from the excited movements of both an important communication.
After the tents had been pitched, and food was about being served out, Golah commanded the mother of the boy carried by Colin to produce the bag of figs that had been entrusted to her keeping.
Trembling with apprehension, the woman rose to obey. The Krooman glanced at the white captives with an expression of horror; and although they had not understood Golah’s command, they saw that something was going wrong.
The woman produced the bag, which was not quite half full. There were in it about two quarts of dried figs.
The figs that had been served out three days before at the dry well had been taken from another bag kept in the custody of Fatima.
The one now produced by the second wife should have been full; and Golah demanded to know why it was not.
The woman trembling asseverated that she and her children had eaten them.
At this confession Fatima uttered a scornful laugh, and spoke a few words that increased the terror of the delinquent mother, at the same time causing the boy to commence howling with affright.
“I tell you so,” said the Krooman, who was standing near the white slaves; “Fatima say to Golah, ‘Christian dog eat the figs;’ Golah kill him now; he kill da woman too.”
In the opinion of those who travel the great desert, about the greatest crime that can be committed is to steal food or drink, and consume either unknown to their companions of the journey.
Articles of food entrusted to the care of anyone must be guarded and preserved—even at the expense of life.
Under no circumstances may a morsel be consumed until it is produced in the presence of all, and a division, either equitable or otherwise, has been made.
Even had the story told by the woman been true, her crime would have been considered sufficiently great to have endangered her life: but her sin was greater than that.
She had bestowed favour upon a slave—a Christian dog—and had aroused the jealousy of her Mahometan lord and master.
Fatima seemed happy, for nothing less than a miracle could, in her opinion, save the life of her fellow-wife, who chanced to be a hated rival.
After drawing his scimitar from its sheath, and cocking his musket, Golah ordered all the slaves to squat themselves on the ground, and in a row.
This order was quickly comprehended and obeyed—the whites seating themselves together at one end of the line.
Golah’s son and the other guard—each with his musket loaded and cocked—were stationed in front of the row; and were ordered by the sheik to shoot any one who attempted to get up from the ground.
The monster then stepped up to Colin, and, seizing the young Scotchman by the auburn locks, dragged him a few paces apart from his companions. There, for a time, he was left alone.
Golah then proceeded to serve out some cheni to every individual on the ground, but none was given to the woman who had aroused his anger, nor to Colin.
In the sheik’s opinion, to have offered them food would have been an act as foolish as to have poured it upon the sands.
Food was intended to sustain life, and it was not designed by him that they should live much longer. And yet it was evident from his manner that he had not quite determined as to how they were to die.
The two guards, with the muskets in their grasp, kept a sharp eye on the slaves; while Golah became engaged in a close consultation with Fatima.
“What shall we do?” asked Terence; “the old villain means mischief, and how can we prevent it? We must not let him kill poor Colly.”
“We must do something immediately,” said Harry. “We have neglected it too long, and shall now have to act under the disadvantage of their being prepared for an attack. Bill, what should we do?”
“I was just thinkin’,” said Bill, “that if we all made a rush at ’em, at the words one—two—three! not more’n two or three of us might be killed before we grappled with ’em. Now, this might do, if these black fellows would only jine us.”
The Krooman here expressed himself as one willing to take his chance in any action they should propose; and believed that his countrymen would do the same. He feared, however, that the other blacks could not be trusted, and that any proposal he might make to them would be in a language the two guards would understand.
“Well, then,” said Harry, “there will be six of us against three. Shall I give the word?”
“All right!” said Terence, drawing his feet under his body, by way of preparation for rising suddenly.
The scheme was a desperate one, but all seemed willing to undertake it.
Since leaving the well, they had felt convinced that life and liberty depended on their making a struggle; though circumstances seemed to have forced that struggle upon them when there was the least hope of success.
“Now all make ready,” muttered Harry, speaking in a calm voice, so as not to excite the attention of the guards. “One!”
“Stop!” exclaimed Colin, who had been listening attentively to all that was said. “I’m not with you. We should all be killed. Two or three would be shot, and the sheik himself could finish all the rest with his scimitar. It is better for him to kill me, if he really means to do so, than to have all four destroyed in the vain hope of trying to save one.”
“It is not for you alone that we are going to act,” interposed Harry. “It is as much for ourselves.”
“Then act when there is a chance of succeeding,” pursued Colin. “You cannot save me, and will only lose your own lives.”
“De big black sheik am going to kill someb’dy, dat berry sure,” said the Krooman, as he sat with his eyes fixed upon Golah.
The latter was still in consultation with Fatima, his face wearing an expression that was horrible for all except herself to behold. Murder by excruciating torture seemed written on every feature of his countenance.
The woman, upon whose manner of death they were deliberating, was in the act of caressing her children, apparently conscious that she had but a few minutes more to remain in their company. Her features wore an expression of calm and hopeless resignation, as if she had yielded herself up to the decree of an inevitable fate.
The third wife had retired a short distance from the others. With her child in her arms, she sate upon the ground, contemplating the scene before her with a look of mingled surprise, curiosity, and regret.
From the appearance of the whole caravan, a stranger could have divined that some event of thrilling interest was about to transpire.
“Colin,” cried Terence, encouragingly, “we won’t sit here quietly and see you meet death. We had better do something while yet we have a chance. Let Harry give the word.”
“I tell you it’s madness,” expostulated Colin. “Wait till we see what he intends doing. Perhaps he’ll keep me awhile for future vengeance; and ye may have a chance of a rescue when there are not two men standing over us ready to blow our brains out.”
Colin’s companion saw there was truth in this remark; and for awhile they waited in silence, with their eyes fixed upon the tent of the sheik.
They had not long to wait, for soon after Golah came forth, having finished his consultation with Fatima.
On his face appeared a hideous smile, a smile that made most of those who beheld it shudder with a sensation of horror.
Chapter Fifty.
A living Grave.
Golah’s first act after coming forth was to take some thongs from his saddle. Having done this, he beckoned to the two who guarded the slaves, giving them some admonition in an unknown tongue. The effect was to excite their greater vigilance. The muzzles of their muskets were turned towards the white captives, and they seemed anxiously waiting the order to fire.
Golah then looked towards Terence, and made a sign for the young Irishman to get up and come towards him.
Terence hesitated.
“Go on, Terry,” muttered Colin. “He don’t mean you any harm.”
At this instant Fatima stepped out from the tent, armed with her husband’s scimitar, and apparently anxious for an opportunity of using it.
Acting under the advice of the others, Terence sprang to his feet, and advanced to the spot where the sheik was standing. The Krooman who spoke English was then called up; and Golah, taking him and the midshipman each by a hand, led them into his tent, whither they were followed by Fatima.
The sheik now addressed a few words to the Krooman, who then told Terence that his life depended on perfect obedience to Golah’s orders. His hands were to be tied, and he must not call out so as to be heard by the others.
“He say,” said the Krooman, “if you no make fight, and no make noise, he no kill you.”
The man further counselled Terence to submit quietly, saying the least resistance would lead to all the white slaves being killed.
Though possessing more than average strength and power for a youth of his age, Terence knew that, in a strife with the gigantic black sheik, he would not have the slightest chance of being victor.
Should he shout to his companions, and have them all act in concert, as they had already proposed?
No. Such an act would most likely lead to two of them being shot, to the third having his brains knocked out with the butt-end of a musket; and to the fourth, himself, being strangled in the powerful grasp of Golah, if not beheaded with the scimitar in the hands of Fatima. On reflection, the young Scotchman yielded, and permitted his hands to be tied behind his back! so, too, did the Krooman.
Golah now stepped out of the tent, and immediately after returned, leading Harry Blount along with him.
On reaching the opening, and seeing Terence and the Krooman lying bound upon the floor, the young Englishman started back, and struggled to free himself from the grasp of the hand that had hold of him. His efforts only resulted in his being instantly flung to the earth, and fast held by his powerful adversary, who at the same time was also employed in protecting his victim from the fury of Fatima.
Terence, Harry, and the Krooman were now conducted back over the ground, and placed in their former position in the row, from which they had been temporarily taken.
Sailor Bill and Colin were next treated in a similar fashion, both being fast bound like their companions.
“What does the ould divil mane?” asked Bill, when Golah was tying his hands together. “Will he murder us all?”
“No,” answered the Krooman. “He no kill but one of your party.”
His eyes turned upon Colin as he spoke.
“Colin! Colin!” exclaimed Harry; “see what you have done by opposing our plan! We are all helpless now.”
“And so much the better for yourself,” answered Colin. “You will now suffer no further harm.”
“If he means no harm, why has he bound us?” asked Bill. “It’s a queer way of showing friendship.”
“Yes, but a safe one,” answered Colin. “You cannot now bring yourselves into danger by a foolish resistance to his will.”
Terence and Harry understood Colin’s meaning; and now, for the first time, comprehended the reason why they had been bound.
It was to prevent them from interfering with Golah’s plans for the disposal of his two victims.
Now that the white slaves were secured, no danger was apprehended from the others; and the two who had been guarding them retired to the shade of a tent to refresh themselves with a drink of cheni.
While the brief conversation above related was being held, Golah had become busily engaged in overhauling the lading of one of his camels.
The object of search was soon discovered; for, the moment after, he came towards them carrying a long Moorish spade.
Two of the black slaves were then called from the line; the spade was placed in the hands of one, and a wooded dish was given to the other. They were then ordered to make a large hole in the sand; to accomplish which they at once set to work. “They are digging a grave for me, or that of the poor woman, perhaps for both of us?” suggested Colin, as he calmly gazed on the spectacle.
His companions had no doubt but that it was as he had said; and sat contemplating the scene in melancholy silence.
While the slaves were engaged in scooping up the hole, Golah called the two guards; and gave them some orders about continuing the journey.
The blacks set about the work were but a few minutes in making an excavation in the loose sand of some four feet in depth. They were then directed to dig another.
“It’s all over with me,” said Colin; “he intends to kill two, and of course I must be one of them.”
“He should kill us all,” exclaimed Terence. “We deserve it for leaving the well last night. We should have made an effort for our lives, while we had the chance.”
“You are right,” replied Harry; “we are fools, cowardly fools! We deserve neither pity in this world nor happiness in the next. Colly, my friend, if you meet with any harm I swear to avenge it, whenever my hands are free.”
“And I’ll be with you,” added Terence.
“Never mind me, old comrades,” answered Colin, who seemed less excited than the others. “Do the best you can for yourselves, and you may some time escape from this monster.”
The attention of Harry was now attracted to Sailor Bill, who had turned his back towards one of the black slaves sitting near him, and was by signs entreating the man to untie his hands.
The man refused, evidently fearing the anger of Golah should he be detected.
The second Krooman, who was unbound, now offered to loose the hands of his countryman; but the latter seemed satisfied with his want of freedom, and refused the proffered aid. He also feared death at the hands of Golah.
If left to divine the ultimate intentions of the black sheik, by the knowledge of human nature they had acquired before falling into his hands, the white captives would not have been seriously alarmed for the welfare of anyone of their number. But Golah was a specimen of natural history new to them; and their apprehensions were excited to the highest pitch by the conduct of those whom they knew to be better acquainted with his character.
The behaviour of the woman who had aroused his anger showed that she was endeavouring to resign herself to some fearful mode of death. The wild lamentations of her children denoted that they were conscious of some impending misfortune.
Fatima seemed about to realise the fulfilment of some long-cherished hope, the hope of revenge on a detested rival.
The care Golah had taken to hinder any interference with his plans, the words of the Krooman, the looks and gestures of the guards, and of Golah himself, the digging of two graves in the sand, all gave warning that some fearful tragedy was about to be enacted. Our adventurers were conscious of this, and conscious, also, that they could do nothing to prevent it.
Nearly frantic with the helplessness of their position, they could only wait, “trembling for the birth of Fate.”