Captain Mayne Reid (continued 4)

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.”

Chapter Fifty One.

The Sheik’s Plan of Revenge.

The second sand-pit was dug a short distance from the first; and when it had been sunk to the depth of about four and a half feet, Golah commanded the blacks to leave off their labour, one of them being sent back to the line to be seated along with his fellow slaves.

By this time the tents had been struck, the camels loaded, and all but Golah and Fatima appeared willing and anxious to depart from the spot. These were not; for their business at that camping-place had not yet been completed.

When the two guards had again resumed their former stations in front of the line, as before with their muskets at full cock, Golah advanced towards the woman, who, disengaging herself from her children, stood up at his approach.

Then succeeded a moment of intense interest.

Was he going to kill her?

If so, in what manner?

All looked on with painful anticipation of some dire event.

It soon transpired. The woman was seized by Golah himself, dragged towards the pits that had been dug, and thrust into one of them. The slave who wielded the spade was then commanded to fill up the excavation around her.

Terence was the first to speak.

“God help her!” he exclaimed; “the monster is going to bury her alive! Can’t we save her?”

“We are not men, if we do not try!” exclaimed Harry, as he suddenly sprang to his feet.

His example was immediately followed by his white companions.

The two muskets were instantly directed towards them; but at a shout from Golah their muzzles were as quickly dropped.

The sheik’s son then, at his father’s command, ran to the pit to secure the woman; while Golah himself rushed forward to meet the helpless men who were advancing towards him.

In an instant the four were thrown prostrate to the earth.

With their hands tied, the powerful sheik upset them as easily as though they had been bags of sand.

Raising Harry by the hair of his head with one hand, and Terence with the other, he dragged them back to their places in the line where they had been already seated.

Sailor Bill saved himself from like treatment, by rolling over and over until he had regained his former place. Colin was allowed to lie on the ground, where the sheik had knocked him over.

Golah now returned to the pit where the woman stood half buried.

She made no resistance, she uttered no complaint, but seemed calmly to resign herself to a fate that could not be averted. Golah apparently did not intend to behold her die; for, when the earth was filled in around her body, her head still remained above ground. She was to be starved to death! As the sheik was turning away to attend to other matters, the woman spoke. Her words were few, and produced no effect upon him. They did, however, upon the Krooman, whose eyes were seen to fill with tears that rapidly chased each other down his mahogany-coloured cheeks.

Colin, who seemed to notice everything except the fate threatening himself, observed the Krooman’s excitement, and inquired its cause.

“She asked him to be kind to her little boy,” said the man, in a voice trembling with emotion.

Are tears unmanly?—No.

The shining drops that rolled from that man’s eyes, and sparkled adown his dusky cheeks, on hearing the unfortunate woman’s prayer for her children, proved that he was not a brute, but a man—a man with a soul that millions might envy.

After leaving the place where the woman was buried, Golah walked up to Colin, and, dragging him to his feet, led him away to the other pit.

His intentions were now evident to all. The two individuals who had aroused his anger and jealousy were to be left near each other, buried alive, to perish in this fearful fashion.

“Colin! Colin! what can we do to save you?” exclaimed Harry, in a tone expressing despair and anguish.

“Nothing,” answered Colin; “don’t attempt it, or you will only bring trouble on yourselves. Leave me to my fate.”

At this moment the speaker was thrown into the pit, and held in an upright attitude by Golah, while the black slave proceeded to fill in the earth around him.

Following the philosophical example set by the woman, Colin made no useless resistance; and was soon submerged under the sand piled up to his shoulders. His companions sat gazing with speechless horror, all suffering the combined anguish of shame, regret and despair.

The sheik was now ready to depart; and ordered the slave who had been assisting him in his diabolical work to mount the camel formerly ridden by the woman who was thus entombed. The black obeyed, pleased to think that his late task was to be so agreeably rewarded; but a sudden change came over his features when Golah and Fatima passed up the three children and placed them under his care.

Golah had but one more act to perform before leaving the spot. It was an act worthy of himself, although suggested by Fatima.

After filling a bowl about half full of water, he placed it midway between Colin and the woman, but so distant from each that neither could possibly reach it!

This satanic idea was executed with the design of tantalising the sufferers in their dying hours, with the sight of that element the want of which would soon cause them the most acute anguish. By the side of the bowl he also placed a handful of figs.

“There,” he tauntingly exclaimed; “I leave you two together, and with more food and drink than you will ever consume. Am I not kind? What more can you ask? Bismillah! God is great, and Mahomet is his Prophet; and I am Golah, the kind, the just!”

Saying this he gave orders to resume the march.

“Don’t move!” exclaimed Terence; “we will give him some trouble yet.”

“Of course we’ll not go and leave Colin there,” said Harry. “The sheik is too avaricious to kill all his slaves. Don’t move a step, Bill, and we may have Colly liberated yet.”

“I shall do as you say, av coorse,” said Bill; “But I expect we shall ’ave to go. Golah has got a way of making a man travel, whether he be willing or not.”

All started forward from the place but the three white slaves and the two whom Golah intended to remain.

“Cheer up, lad,” said Bill to Colin; “we’ll never go and leave you there.”

“Go on! go on!” exclaimed Colin. “You can do me no good, and will only injure yourselves.”

Golah had mounted his camel and ridden forward, leaving to his two guards the task of driving on the slaves; and, as if apprehensive of trouble from them, he had directed Terence, Harry, Bill, and the Krooman, to be brought on with their hands tied behind them.

The three refused to move; and when all efforts to get them on had been tried in vain, the guards made a loud appeal to their sheik.

Golah came riding back in a great rage.

Dismounting from his camel he drew the ramrod from his musket; then rushing up to Terence, who was the nearest to him, administered to him a shower of blows that changed the colour of his shirt from an untidy white to the darker hue of blood.

The two guards, following the example of their lord and master, commenced beating Harry and Bill, who, unable to make any resistance had to endure the torture in silence.

“Go on, my friends!” exclaimed Colin; “for God’s sake, go and leave me! You cannot do anything to avert my fate!”

Colin’s entreaties as well as the torture from the blows they received, were alike without effect. His shipmates could not bring themselves to desert their old comrade, and leave him to the terrible death that threatened him.

Rushing up to Bill and Harry, Golah caught hold of each, and hurled them to the ground by the side of Terence. Keeping all three together, he now ordered a camel to be led up; and the order was instantly obeyed by one of the guards. The halter was then taken from the head of the animal.

“We ’ave got to go now,” said Bill. “He’s going to try the same dodge as beat me the other day. I shall save him the trouble.”

Bill tried to rise but was prevented. He had refused to walk when earnestly urged to do so; and now, when he was willing to go on, he had to wait the pleasure of his owner as to the manner in which his journey should be continued.

While Golah was fastening the rope to Harry’s hands, the sharp shrill voice of Fatima called his attention to some of the people who had gone on before.

The two women, who led the camels loaded with articles taken from the wreck, had advanced about three hundred yards from the place; and were now, along with the black slaves, surrounded by a party of men mounted on maherries and horses.

Chapter Fifty Two.

Captured again.

Golah’s fear of the Arabs met by the well had not been without a cause. His forced night march, to avoid meeting them again, had not secured the object for which it had been made.

Approaching from the direction of the rising sun, the Arabs had not been discovered in the distance; and Golah, occupied in overcoming the obstinate resistance of the white slaves, had allowed them to come quite near before they had been observed by him.

Leaving his captives, the sheik seized his musket, and followed by his son and brother-in-law rushed forward to protect his wives and property.

He was too late. Before he could reach them they were in the possession of others; and as he drew near the spot where they had been captured he saw a dozen muskets presented towards himself, and heard some one loudly commanding him in the name of the Prophet to approach in peace.

Golah had the discretion to yield to a destiny that could not be averted—the misfortune of being made a prisoner and plundered at the same time.

Calmly saying, “It is the will of God,” he sat down, and invited his captors to a conference on the terms of capitulation.

As soon as the caravan had fallen into the possession of the robbers, the Krooman’s hands were unbound by his companion, and he hastened to the relief of the white slaves.

“Golah no our massa now,” said he, while untying Harry’s wrists, “our massa is Arab dat take us norf. We get free. Dat why dis Arab no buy us—he know us he hab for nothing.”

The cords were quickly untied, and the attention of the others was now turned to disinterring Colin and the woman from their living graves.

To do this, Harry wanted to use the water-bowl the sheik had left for the purpose of tantalising his victims with the sight of its contents.

“Here, drink this water,” said he, holding the vessel to Colin’s lips. “I want to make use of the dish.”

“No, no; dig me out without that,” answered Colin. “Leave the water as it is; I have a particular use for it when I get free. I wish the old sheik to see me drink it.”

Bill, Harry, and the Krooman set to work, and Colin and the woman were soon uncovered and dragged out. Terence was then awakened to consciousness by a few drops of the water poured over his face.

Owing to the cramped position in which he had been placed and so long held, Colin was for a few minutes unable to walk. They waited, to give him time to recover the use of his limbs. The slave who had the care of the woman’s children was now seen coming back with them, and the woman ran to meet him.

The delight of the wretched mother at again embracing her offspring was so great that the gentle-souled Krooman was once more affected to tears.

In the conference with the Arab robbers, Golah was unable to obtain the terms he fancied a sheik should be entitled to.

They offered him two camels, and the choice of one wife out of the three, on condition he should go back to his own country and return to the desert no more.

These terms Golah indignantly refused, and declared that he would rather die in defence of his rights.

Golah was a pure negro, and one of a class of traders much disliked by the Arabs. He was a lawless intruder on their grounds, a trespasser upon their especial domain—the Great Desert. He had just acquired a large amount of wealth in goods and slaves that had been cast on their coast, and these they were determined he should not carry back with him to his own country.

Though he was as much a robber as themselves they had no sympathy with him, and would not be satisfied with merely a share of his plunder. They professed to understand all his doings in the past, and accused him of not being a fair trader.

They told him that he never came upon the desert with merchandise to exchange, but only with camels, to be driven away laden with property, justly belonging to them, the real owners of the land.

They denied his being a true believer in the Prophet, and concluded their talk by declaring that he should be thankful for the liberal terms they had offered him.

Golah’s opposition to their proposal became so demonstrative that the Arabs were obliged to disarm and bind him, though this was not accomplished without a fierce struggle in which several of his adversaries were overthrown.

A blow on the head with a stock of a musket at length reduced him to subjection, after which his hands were fast tied behind his back.

During the struggle, Golah’s son was prevented from interfering in behalf of his father by the black slaves who had been so long the victims of his cruel care; while the brother-in-law, as well as Fatima and the third wife, remained passive spectators of the scene.

On Golah being secured, the white slaves with Old Bill at their head came up and voluntarily surrendered themselves to their new masters.

Colin had in his hands the bowl of water, and the dried figs that had been placed beside it. Advancing towards Golah he held the figs up before his eyes, and then, with a nod and an expression that seemed to say, “Thank you for this,” he raised the bowl to his lips with the intention of drinking.

The expression upon the sheik’s features became satanic, but suddenly changed into a glance of pleasure as one of the Arabs snatched the vessel out of Colin’s hands and instantly drank off its contents.

Colin received the lesson meekly, and said not a word.

The Arabs speedily commenced making arrangements for leaving the place. The first move was to establish a communication between Golah and the saddle of one of his camels.

This was accomplished by using a rope as a medium; and the black giant was compelled to walk after the animal with his hands tied behind him, in the same fashion as he had lately set for Sailor Bill.

His wives and slaves seemed to comprehend the change in their fortunes; and readily adapted their conduct to the circumstances.

The greatest transformation of all was observable in the behaviour of the favourite Fatima.

Since his capture, she had kept altogether aloof from her late lord, and showed not the slightest sympathy for his misfortunes.

By her actions she seemed to say, “The mighty Golah has fallen, and is no longer worthy of my distinguished regard.”

Very different was the behaviour of the woman, whom the cruel sheik would have left to die a lingering death. Her husband’s misfortune seemed to awaken within her a love for the father of her children; and her features, as she gazed upon the captive, who, although defeated, was unsubdued in spirit, wore a mingled expression of pity and grief.

Hungry, thirsty, weary, and bleeding, enslaved on the Great Desert, still uncertain of what was to be their fate, and doubtful of surviving much longer the hardships they might be forced to endure, our adventurers were far from being happy; but, with all their misery, they felt joyful when comparing their present prospects with those before them but an hour ago.

With the exception of Golah, the Arabs had no trouble with their captives. The white and black slaves knew they were travelling towards the well; and the prospect of again having plenty of water was sufficient inducement to make them put forth all their strength in following the camels.

Early in the evening a short halt was made; when each of the company was served with about half a pint of water from the skins. The Arabs, expecting to reach the well soon after, could afford to be thus liberal; but the favour so granted, though thankfully received by the slaves, was scornfully refused by their late master, the giant-bodied and strong-minded Golah.

To accept of food and drink from his enemies, in his present humiliating position, bound and dragged along like a slave, was a degradation to which he scorned to submit.

On Golah contemptuously refusing the proffered cup of water, the Arab who offered it simply ejaculated, “Thank God!” and then drank it himself.

The well was reached about an hour after midnight; and, after quenching their thirst, the slaves were allowed to go to rest and sleep, a privilege they stood sorely in need of, having been over thirty hours afoot, upon their cheerless and arduous journey.

Chapter Fifty Three.

An unfaithful Wife.

On waking up the next morning, our adventurers were gratified with a bit of intelligence communicated by the Krooman: that they were to have a day of rest. A camel was also to be killed for food.

The Arabs were going to divide amongst themselves the slaves taken from Golah; and the opportunity was not to be lost of recruiting their strength for a long journey.

As Sailor Bill reflected upon their sufferings since leaving that same place two days before, he expressed regret that they had not been captured before leaving the well, and thus spared the horrors they had endured.

Stimulated by the remembrance of so much suffering needlessly incurred, he asked the Krooman to explain the conduct of their new masters.

The Krooman’s first attempt at satisfying his curiosity was to state that the Arabs had acted after a manner peculiar to themselves, in other words, that it was “a way they had.”

The old sailor was not satisfied with this answer; and pressed for a further explanation.

He was then told that the robbers on the desert were always in danger of meeting several caravans at a watering-place; and that any act of violence committed there would bring upon the perpetrators everlasting disgrace, as well as the enmity of all desert travellers. The Krooman explained himself by saying, that should a caravan of a hundred men arrive at the well, they would not now interfere in behalf of Golah, but would only recognise him as a slave. On the contrary, had they found him engaged in actual strife with the robbers, they would have assisted him.

This was satisfactory to all but Bill. Even Colin, who had been buried alive, and Terence, who had been so unmercifully beaten, were pleased at their change of masters on any terms; but the old sailor, sailor-like, would not have been himself without some cause of complaint.

Before their newly acquired wealth could be divided, the Arabs had to come to some resolution as to the disposal of the black sheik; who still remained so unmanageable that he had to be kept bound, with a guard placed over him.

The Arabs could not agree amongst themselves as to what should be done with him. Some of them urged that, despite the colour of his skin, he might be a true believer in the Prophet; and that, notwithstanding his manner of trading and acquiring wealth, a system nearly as dishonest as their own, he was entitled to his liberty, with a certain portion of his property.

Others claimed that they had a perfect right to add him and his large family to the number of their slaves.

He was not an Arab, but an Ethiopian, like most of his following; and, as a slave, would bring a high price in any of the markets where men were bought and sold.

Those who argued thus were in the minority; and Golah was at length offered his wives and their children, with a couple of camels and his scimitar.

This offer the black sheik indignantly refused, much to the astonishment of those who had been so eloquent in his behalf.

His decision produced another debate; in which the opinions of several of his captors underwent such a change, that it was finally determined to consider him as one of the slaves.

Every article that had been obtained from the wreck was now exposed to view, and a fixed price set upon it.

The slaves were carefully examined and valued, as well as the camels, muskets, and everything that had belonged to Golah or his dependants.

When these preliminary arrangements had been completed, the Arabs proceeded to an equitable partition of of the property.

This proved a very difficult matter to manage, and occupied their time for the rest of the day. Three or four would covet the same article; and long and noisy discussions would take place before the dispute could be settled to their mutual satisfaction.

The Krooman, who understood the desert language, was attentive to all that transpired; and, from time to time, informed the white slaves of what was being done.

At an early period in the discussions, he discovered that each of the four was to fall to different masters.

“You and me,” said he to Harry, “we no got two massas, only one.”

His words were soon after proved to be true. They were carried apart from each other, evidently with the design of being appropriated by different owners, and the fear that they might also be separated again came over them.

When the slaves, camels, tents, and articles that had been gathered from the wreck were distributed amongst the eleven Arabs, each one took the charge of his own; but there still remained Golah, his wives and their children, to be disposed of.

No one seemed desirous of becoming the owner of the black sheik and his wives. Even those who had said that he would make a valuable slave, appeared unwilling to take him, although induced to do so by the taunts of their companions.

The fact was, that they were afraid of him. He would be too difficult to manage; and none of them wished to be the master of one who obstinately refused both food and drink, and who so defiantly invoked upon the heads of his captors the curse of Mahomet, and swore by the beard of the Prophet that the moment his hands were free, he would kill the man who should dare to own or claim him as a slave.

Golah, with all his faults, was neither cunning nor deceitful; and, having a spirit too great to affect submission, he did not intend to yield.

He was arrogant, cruel, avaricious and vindictive; but the wrongs he did were always accomplished in a plain open-handed way, and never by stratagem or treachery.

By accepting the terms the Arabs had offered him, his strength, courage, and unconquerable will might afterwards have enabled him to obtain revenge upon his captors, and regain a portion of his property; but it was not in his nature to sham submission, even for the sake of gaining a future advantage.

As not one of the Arabs was willing to accept of him at the value at which he had been appraised, or to allow another to have him for less, it was finally decided that he should be retained as the common property of all, until he could be sold to some other tribe, when a distribution might be made of the proceeds of the sale. His wives and children were to be disposed of in like manner.

This arrangement was satisfactory to all but Golah himself, who expressed himself greatly displeased with it. Nevertheless, he seemed a little disposed to yield to circumstances; for, soon after the decision of his captors was made known to him, he called to Fatima, and commanded her to bring him a bowl of water.

The favourite refused, under the plea that she had been forbidden to give him anything.

This was true; for, as he had declined to accept of anything at the hands of those claiming to be his masters, they had determined to starve him into submission.

Fatima’s refusal to obey him caused Golah his greatest chagrin. Ever accustomed to prompt and slavish obedience from others, the idea of his own wife, his favourite too, denying his modest request, almost drove him frantic.

“I am your husband,” he cried, “and whom should you obey but me? Fatima! I commanded you to bring me some water!”

“And I command you not to do it,” said the Arab sheik, who, standing near by, had heard the order.

Fatima was an artful, selfish woman, who had gained some influence over her husband by flattering his vanity, and professing a love she had never felt.

She had acted with slavish obedience to him when he was all-powerful; but now that he was himself a slave, her submission had been transferred with perfect facility to the chief of the band who had captured him.

It was now that Golah began to realise the fact that he was a conquered man.

His heart was nearly bursting with rage, shame, and disappointment; for nothing could so plainly awaken him to the comprehension of his real position as the fact that Fatima, his favourite, she who had ever professed for him so much love and obedience, now refused to attend to his simplest request.

After making one more violent and ineffectual effort at breaking his bonds, he sank down upon the earth and remained silent, bitterly contemplating the degraded condition into which he had fallen.

The Krooman, who was a very sharp observer of passing events, and had an extensive knowledge of peculiar specimens of human nature, closely watched the behaviour of the black sheik.

“He no like us,” he remarked to the whites. “He nebba be slave. Bom-bye you see him go dead.”

Chapter Fifty Four.

Two faithful Wives.

While Golah’s mind appeared to be stunned almost to unconsciousness by the refusal of Fatima to obey his orders, his other two wives were moving about, as if engaged in some domestic duty.

Presently the woman he had buried in the sand was seen going towards him with a calabash of water, followed by the other, who carried a dish of sangleh.

One of the Arabs, perceiving their intention, ran up, and, in an angry tone, commanded them to retire to their tents. The two women persisted in their design; and in order to prevent them, without using violence, the Arab offered to serve the food and drink himself.

This they permitted him to do; but when the water was offered to Golah it was again refused.

The black sheik would not receive either food or drink from the hand of a master.

The sangleh was then consumed by the Arab with a real or sham profession of gratitude; the water was poured into a bucket, and given to one of the camels; and the two calabashes were returned to the women.

Neither a keen longing for food, nor a burning thirst for water, could divert Golah’s thoughts from the contemplation of something that was causing his soul extreme anguish.

His physical torture seemed, for the time, extinguished by some deep mental agony.

Again the wives, the unloved ones, advanced towards him, bearing water and food; and again the Arab stepped forward to intercept them. The two women persisted in their design, and, while opposing the efforts of the Arab to turn them back, they called on the two youths, the relatives of the black sheik, as also on Fatima, to assist them.

Of the three persons thus appealed to, only Golah’s son obeyed their summons; but his attempt to aid the women was immediately frustrated by the Arab, who claimed him as a slave, and who now commanded him to stand aside. His command having no effect, the Arab proceeded to use force. At the risk of his life the youth resisted. He dared to use violence against a master, a crime that on the desert demands the punishment of death.

Aroused from his painful reverie by the commotion going on around him, Golah, seeing the folly of the act, shouted to his son to be calm, and yield obedience; but the youth, not heeding the command of his father, continued his resistance. He was just on the point of being cut down, when the Krooman ran forward, and pronouncing in Arabic two words signifying “father and son”, saved the youth’s life. The Arab robber had sufficient respect for the relationship to stay his hand from committing murder; but to prevent any further trouble with the young fellow, he was seized by several others, fast bound, and flung to the ground by the side of his father.

The two women, still persisting in their design to relieve the wants of their unfortunate husband, were then knocked down, kicked, beaten, and finally dragged inside the tents.

This scene was witnessed by Fatima; who, instead of showing sympathy, appeared highly amused by it, so much so as even to give way to laughter. Her unnatural behaviour once more roused the indignation of her husband.

The wrong of being robbed, the humiliation of being bound, the knowledge that he himself, along with his children, would be sold into slavery, the torture of hunger and thirst, were sources of misery no longer heeded by him; all were forgotten in the contemplation of a far greater anguish.

Fatima, the favourite, the woman to whom his word should have been law, the woman who had always pretended to think him something more than mortal, now not only shunning but despising him in the midst of his misfortunes.

This knowledge did more towards subduing the giant than all his other sufferings combined.

“Old Golah looks very down in the mouth,” remarked Terence to his companions. “If it was not for the beating he gave me yesterday, I could almost pity him. I made an oath, at the time he was thwacking me with the ramrod, that if my hands were ever again at liberty, I’d see if it was possible to kill him; but now that they are free, and his are bound, I’ve not the heart to touch him, bad as he is.”

“That is right, Terry,” said Bill; “it’s only wimin an’ bits o’ boys as throws wather on a drowned rat, not as I mane to say the owld rascal is past mischief yet. I believe he’ll do some more afore the divil takes ’im intirely; but I mane that Him as sits up aloft is able to do His own work without your helping Him.”

“You speak truth, Bill,” said Harry; “I don’t think there is any necessity for seeking revenge of Golah for his cruel treatment of us; he is now as ill off as the rest of us.”

“What is that you say?” inquired Colin. “Golah like one of us? Nothing of the kind. He has more pluck, endurance, obstinacy, and true manly spirit about him than there is in the four of us combined!”

“Was his attempt to starve you dictated by a manly spirit?” asked Harry.

“Perhaps not; but it was the fault of the circumstances under which he has been educated. I don’t think of that now; my admiration of the man is too strong. Look at his refusing that drink of water when it had been several times offered him!”

“There is something wonderful about him certainly,” assented Harry; “but I don’t see anything in him to admire.”

“No more do I,” said Bill. “He might be as comfortable now as we are; and I say a man’s a fool as won’t be ’appy when he can.”

“What you call his folly,” rejoined Colin, “is but a noble pride that makes him superior to any of us. He has a spirit that will not submit to slavery, and we have not.”

“That be truth,” remarked the Krooman; “Golah nebbar be slave.”

Colin was right. By accepting food and drink from his captors, the black sheik might have satisfied the demands of mere animal nature, but only at the sacrifice of all that was noble in his nature. His self-respect, along with the proud unyielding spirit by which everything good and great is accomplished, would have been gone from him for ever.

Sailor Bill and his companions, the boy slaves, had been taught from childhood to yield to circumstances, and still retain some moral feeling; but Golah had not.

The only thing he could yield to adverse fate was his life. At this moment the Krooman, by a gesture, called their attention towards the captive sheik, at the same time giving utterance to a sharp ejaculation.

“Look,” exclaimed he, “Golah no stay longer on de Saara. You him see soon die now, look at him!”

At the same instant Golah had risen to his feet, inviting his Arab master to a conference.

“There is but one God,” said he; “Mahomet is his prophet, and I am his servant. I will never be a slave. Give me one wife, a camel, and my scimitar, and I will go. I have been robbed; but God is great, and it is His will, and my destiny.”

Golah had at length yielded, though not because that he suffered for food and water, not that he feared slavery or death, not that his proud spirit had become weak or given way; but rather that it had grown stronger under the prompting of revenge.

The Arab sheik conferred with his followers; and there arose a brief controversy among them.

The trouble they had with their gigantic captive, the difficulty they anticipated in disposing of him, and their belief that he was a good Mussulman, were arguments in favour of granting his request, and setting him at liberty.

It was therefore decided to let him go, on the conditions of his taking his departure at once.

Golah consented; and they proceeded to untie his hands. While this was being done, the Krooman ran up to Colin’s master, and cautioned him to protect his slave until the sheik had departed.

This warning was unnecessary, for Golah had other and more serious thoughts to engage his mind than that of any animosity he might once have felt against the young Scotchman.

“I am free,” said Golah, when his hands were untied. “We are equals, and Mussulmans. I claim your hospitality. Give me some food and drink.”

He then stepped forward to the well, and quenched his thirst, after which some boiled camel meat was placed before him.

While he was appeasing an appetite that had been two days in gaining strength, Fatima, who had observed a strange expression in his eyes, appeared to be in great consternation. She had believed him doomed to a life of slavery, if not to death; and this belief had influenced her in her late actions.

Gliding up to the Arab sheik, she entreated to be separated from her husband; but the only answer she received was, that Golah should have either of the three wives he chose to take, that he (the sheik) and his companions were men of honour, who would not break the promise they had given.

A goat’s-skin of water, some barley meal, for making sangleh, and a few other necessary articles, were placed on a camel, which was delivered over to Golah.

The black sheik then addressed a few words in some African language to his son; and, calling Fatima to follow him, he started off across the desert.

Chapter Fifty Five.

Fatima’s Fate.

A complete change had come over the fortunes of Fatima. Vain, cruel, and tyrannical but the moment before, she was now humbled to the dust of the desert. In place of commanding her fellow wives, she now approached them with entreaties, begging them to take charge of her child, which she seemed determined to leave behind her. Both willingly assented to her wishes.

Our adventurers were puzzled by this circumstance; for there appeared to be no reason that Fatima should leave her offspring behind her. Even the Krooman could not explain it; and as the shades of night descended over the desert, the mother separated from her child, perhaps never more to embrace it in this world of wickedness and woe.

About two hours before daybreak, on the morning after the departure of Golah, there was an alarm in the douar, which created amongst the Arabs a wonderful excitement.

The man who had been keeping guard over the camp was not to be seen; and one of the fleetest camels, as well as a swift desert horse, was also gone.

The slaves were instantly mustered, when it was found that one of them was likewise missing. It was Golah’s son.

His absence accounted for the loss of the camel, and perhaps the horse, but what had become of the Arab guard?

He certainly would not have absconded with the slave, for he had left valuable property behind him.

There was no time for exchanging surmises over this mystery. Pursuit must be instantly made for the recovery of slave, camel, and horse.

The Arab sheik detailed four of his followers to this duty, and they hasted to make ready for their departure. They would start as soon as the light of day should enable them to see the course the missing animals had taken.

All believed that the fugitives would have to be sought for in a southerly direction; and therefore the caravan would have to be further delayed in its journey.

While making preparations for the pursuit, another unpleasant discovery was made. Two ship’s muskets, that had been taken from Golah’s party, were also missing.

They had been extracted from a tent in which two of the Arabs had slept, two of the four who were now preparing to search for the missing property.

The sheik became alarmed. The camp seemed full of traitors; and yet, as the guns were the private property of the two men who slept in the tent, they could not, for losing them, reasonably be accused of anything more than stupidity.

Contrary to the anticipations of all, the tracks of the lost animals were found to lead off in a north-westerly direction; and at about two hundred yards from the camp a dark object was seen lying upon the ground. On examination it proved to be the Arab who had been appointed night guard over the douar.

He was stone dead; and by his side lay one of the missing muskets, with the stock broken and covered with his own brains.

The tragedy was not difficult to be explained. The man had seen one or two of the hobbled animals straying from the camp. Not thinking that they were being led gently away, he had, without giving any alarm, gone out to bring them back. Golah’s son, who was leading them off, by keeping concealed behind one of the animals, had found an opportunity of giving the guard his death-blow without any noise to disturb the slumbering denizens of the douar.

No doubt he had gone to rejoin his father, and the adroit manner in which he had made his departure, taking with him a musket, a camel, and a horse, not only excited the wonder, but the admiration of those from whom he had stolen them.

In the division of the slaves young Harry Blount and the Krooman had become the property of the Arab sheik. The Krooman having some knowledge of the Arabic language, soon established himself in the good opinion of his new master. While the Arabs were discussing the most available mode to obtain revenge for the murder of their companion, as well as to regain possession of the property they had lost, the Krooman, skilled in Golah’s character, volunteered to assist them by a little advice.

Pointing to the south, he suggested to them that, by going in that direction, they would certainly see or hear something of Golah and his son.

The sheik could the more readily believe this, since the country of the black chief lay to the southward, and Golah, on leaving the douar, had gone in that direction.

“But why did his dog of a son not go south?” inquired the Arabs, pointing to the tracks of the stolen horse, which still appeared to lead towards the north-west.

“If you go north,” replied the Krooman, “you will be sure to see Golah; or if you stay here you will learn something of him.”

“What! will he be in both directions at the same time, and here likewise?”

“No, not that; but he will follow you.”

The Arabs were willing to believe that there was a chance of recovering their property on the road they had been intending to follow, especially as the stolen horse and camel had been taken in that direction.

They determined, therefore, to continue their journey.

Too late they perceived their folly in treating Golah as they had done. He was now beyond their reach, and, in all likelihood, had been rejoined by his son. He was an enemy against whom they would have to keep a constant watch; and the thought of this caused the old Arab sheik to swear by the Prophet’s beard that he would never again show mercy to a man whom he had plundered.

For about an hour after resuming their march, the footprints of the camel could be traced in the direction they wished to go; but gradually they became less perceptible, until at length they were lost altogether. A smart breeze had been blowing, which had filled the tracks with sand, which was light and easily disturbed.

Trusting to chance, and still with some hope of recovering the stolen property, they continued on in the same direction, and, not long after losing the tracks, they found some fresh evidence that they were going the right way.

The old sheik, who was riding in advance of the others, on looking to the right, perceived an object on the sand that demanded a closer inspection. He turned and rode towards it, closely followed by the people of his party.

On drawing near to the object it proved to be the body of a human being, lying back upwards, and yet with the face turned full towards the heavens. The features were at once recognised as those of Fatima, the favourite!

The head of the unfortunate woman had been severed from her body, and then placed contiguous to it, with the face in an inverted position.

The ghastly spectacle was instructive. It proved that Golah, although going off southward, must have turned back again, and was now not far off, hovering about the track he believed his enemies would be likely to take. His son, moreover, was in all likelihood along with him.

When departing along with her husband, Fatima had probably anticipated the terrible fate that awaited her; and, for that reason, had left her child in the care of the other wives.

Neither of these seemed in the least surprised on discovering the body. Both had surmised that such would be Fatima’s fate; and it was for that reason they had so willingly taken charge of her child.

The caravan made a short halt, which was taken advantage of by the two women to cover the body with sand.

The journey was then resumed.

Chapter Fifty Six.

Further Defection.

Notwithstanding that Golah’s brother-in-law, who had formerly been a freeman, was now a slave, he seemed well satisfied with the change in his circumstances.

He made himself very useful to his new masters in looking after the camel, and doing all the other necessary work, which his knowledge of Saaran life enabled him effectually to execute.

When the Arab caravan came to a halt on the evening of his first day’s journey along with it, he assisted in unloading the camels, putting the hobbles on them, pitching the tents, and doing anything else which was required to be done.

While the other slaves were eating the small portion of food allowed them, one of the camels formerly belonging to Golah, a young and fleet maherry that had been ridden by Fatima, strayed a short distance from the douar. Seeing it, the black sheik’s brother-in-law, who had been making himself so useful, ran after the animal as if to fetch it back. He was seen passing beyond the camel, as though he intended turning it towards the camp; but in another instant it was discovered that he had no such design. The youth was seen to spring up to the back of the maherry, lay hold of its hump, and ride rapidly away. Accustomed to hearing the sound of his voice, the faithful and intelligent animal obeyed his words of command. Its neck was suddenly craned out towards the north; and its feet were flung forward in long strides that bore its rider rapidly away from the rest. The incident caused a tremendous commotion in the caravan. It was so wholly unexpected that none of the Arabs were prepared to intercept the fugitive. The guard for the night had not been appointed. They were all seated on the ground, engaged in devouring their evening repast, and before a musket could be discharged at the runaway, he had got so far into the glimmering twilight that the only effect of two or three shots fired after him was to quicken the pace of the maherry on which he was fleeing.

Two fleet horses were instantly saddled and mounted; one by the owner of the camel that had been stolen, and the other by the owner of the slave who had stolen it.

Each, arming himself with musket and scimitar, felt sure of recapturing the runaway. Their only doubt arose from the knowledge of the swiftness of the maherry, and that its rider was favoured by the approaching darkness.

The whole encampment was by this time under arms; and after the departure of the pursuers, the sheik gathered all the slaves together, and swore by the beard of the Prophet that they should all be killed, and that he would set the example by killing the two belonging to himself, which were Harry Blount and the Krooman. Several of his followers proceeded to relieve their excitement by each beating the slave or slaves that were his own property, and amongst these irate slave-owners was the master of Sailor Bill. The old man-o’-war’s-man was cudgelled till his objections to involuntary servitude were loudly expressed, and in the strongest terms that English, Scotch, and Irish could furnish for the purpose.

When the rage of the old sheik had to some extent subsided, he procured a leathern thong, and declared that his two slaves should be fast bound, and never released as long as they remained in his possession.

“Talk to him,” exclaimed Harry to the Krooman: “tell him, in his own language, that God is great, and that he is a fool! We don’t wish to escape—certainly not at present.”

Thus counselled, the Krooman explained to the sheik that the white slaves, as well as himself, who had sailed in English ships, had no intention of running away, but wished to be taken north, where they might be ransomed; and that they were not such fools as to part from him in a place where they would certainly starve. The Krooman also informed the sheik that they were all very glad at being taken out of the hands of Golah, who would have carried them to Timbuctoo, whence they never could have returned, but must have ended their days in slavery.

While the Krooman was talking to the sheik several of the others came up and listened. The black further informed them that the white slaves had friends living in Agadeer and Swearah (Santa Cruz and Mogador)—friends who would pay a large price to ransom them. Why, then, should they try to escape while journeying towards the place where those friends were living?

The Krooman went on to say that the young man who had just made off was Golah’s brother-in-law; that, unlike themselves, in going north he would not be seeking freedom but perpetual slavery, and for that reason he had gone to rejoin Golah and his son.

This explanation seemed so reasonable to the Arabs that their fears for the safety of their slaves soon subsided, and the latter were permitted to repose in peace.

As a precautionary measure, however, two men were kept moving in a circle around the douar throughout the whole of the night; but no disturbance arose, and morning returned without bringing back the two men who had gone in pursuit of the cunning runaway.

The distance to the next watering-place was too great to admit of any delay being made; and the journey was resumed, in the hope that the two missing men would be met on the way.

This hope was realised.

All along the route, the old sheik, who rode in advance, kept scanning the horizon, not only ahead, but to the right and left of their course. About ten miles from their night’s halting-place he was seen to swerve suddenly from his course, and advance towards something that had attracted his attention. His followers hastened after him—all except the two women and their children, who lingered a long way behind.

Lying on the ground, their bodies contiguous to each other, were the two Arabs who had gone in pursuit of the runaway.

They were both dead.

One of them had been shot with a musket-ball that had penetrated his skull, entering directly between his temples. The other had been cut down with a scimitar, his body being almost severed in twain.

The youth who had fled the night before, had evidently come up with Golah and his son; and the two men who had pursued him and lost their lives, their animals, muskets, and scimitars.

Golah now had two accomplices, and the three were well mounted and well-armed.

The anger of the Arabs was frightful to behold. They turned towards the two women whom they knew to be Golah’s wives. The latter had thrown themselves on their knees, and were screaming and supplicating for mercy.

Some of the Arabs would have killed them on the instant; but were prevented by the old sheik, who, although himself wild with rage, had still sufficient reason left to tell him that the unfortunate women were not answerable for the acts of their husband. Our adventurers found reason to regret the misfortune that had befallen their new masters; for they could not but regard with alarm the returning power of Golah.

“We shall fall into his hands again,” exclaimed Terence. “He will kill all these Arabs, one after another, and obtain all he has lost, ourselves included. We shall yet be driven to Timbuctoo.”

“Then we should deserve it,” cried Harry, “for it will partly be our own fault if ever we fall into Golah’s power again.”

“I don’t think so,” said Bill; “Golah is a wondersome man, and ’as got somethin’ more nor human natur’ to ’elp ’im. I think as ’ow if we should see ’im ’alf a mile off signalisin’ for us to follow ’im, we should ’ave to go. I’ve tried my hand at disobeyin’ his orders, and don’t do it again, not if I knows it.”

The expressions of anger hitherto portrayed on the countenances of the Arabs had given place to those of anxiety. They knew that an enemy was hovering around them, an enemy whom they had wronged, whose power they had undervalued, and whom they had foolishly restored to liberty.

The bodies of their companions were hastily interred in the sand, and their journey northward was once more resumed.