Captain Mayne Reid (continued 6)

“I think so too, now,” said the Krooman; “for it am worse than sure dat if we starve now we no be slaves bom-bye.”

“They will not quite starve us to death,” said Jim. “I have told you before that we are worth too much for that. If we will not work they will sell us, and we may reach Mogador. If we do work, we may stay here for years. I entreat you to hold out one day longer.”

“I cannot,” answered one.

“Nor I,” exclaimed another.

“Let us first get something to eat, and then take our liberty by force,” said Terence. “I fancy that if I had a drink of water I could whip all the Arabs on earth.”

“And so could I,” said Colin.

“And I, too,” added Harry Blount.

Sailor Bill had sunk upon the floor, hardly conscious of what the others were saying; but, partly aroused by the word water, repeated it, muttering, in a hoarse whisper, “Water! water!”

The Krooman and the three youths joined in the cry; and then all, as loudly as their parched throats would permit, shouted the words, “Water! water!”

The call for water was apparently unheeded by the Arab men, but it was evidently music to many of the children of the village, for it attracted them to the door of the goat-penn, around which they clustered, listening with strong expressions of delight.

Through a long night of indescribable agony, the cry of “Water! Water!” was often repeated in the penn, and at each time in tones fainter and more supplicating than before.

The cry at length became changed from a demand to a piteous prayer.

Chapter Sixty Nine.

Victory.

Next morning, when the Arabs opened the door of the prison, Sailor Bill and Colin were found unable to rise; and the old salt seemed quite unconscious of all efforts made to awaken his attention.

Not till then did Jim’s resolution begin to give way. He would now submit, to save them from further suffering; but although knowing it was the wish of all that he should tender their submission on the terms the Arabs required, for a while he delayed doing so, in order to discover the course their masters designed adopting towards them.

“Are you Christian dogs willing to earn your food now?” inquired the old sheik, as he entered the goat-penn.

Faint and weak with hunger, nearly mad with thirst, alarmed for the condition of his brother, and pitying the agony of the others, Jim was about to answer the sheik’s question in the affirmative; but there was something in the tone in which the question had been put that determined him to refrain for a little longer.

The earthly happiness of six men might depend upon the next word he should utter, and that word he would not speak without some deliberation.

With an intellect sharpened by torture, Jim turned his gaze from the old sheik upon several other Arabs that had come near.

He could see that they had arrived at some decision amongst themselves, as to what they should do, and that they did not seem much interested in the ultimatum demanded by the sheik’s inquiry.

This lack of excitement or interest did not look like further starvation and death; and in place of telling the Arabs that they were willing to submit, Jim informed the old sheik that all were determined to die rather than remain slaves.

“There is not one of us that wishes to live,” he added, “except for the purpose of seeing our native land again. Our bodies are now weak, but our spirits are still strong. We will die!”

On receiving this answer, the Arabs departed, leaving the Christians in the penn.

The Krooman, who had been listening during the interview, then faintly called after them to return; but he was stopped by Jim, who still entertained the hope that his firmness would yet be rewarded.

Half an hour passed, and Jim began to doubt again. He might not have correctly interpreted the expressions he had noted upon the faces of the Arabs.

“What did you tell them?” muttered Terence. “Did you tell them that we were willing to work, if they would give us water?”

“Yes, certainly!” answered Jim, now beginning to regret that he had not tendered their submission before it might be too late.

“Then why do they not come and relieve us?” asked Terence in a whisper, hoarse from despair.

Jim vouchsafed no answer, and the Krooman seemed in too much mental and bodily anguish to heed what had been said.

Shortly after, Jim could hear the flocks being driven out of the town, and looking through a small opening in the wall of the penn, he could see some of the Arabs going out towards the barley-fields.

Could it be that he had been mistaken; that the Arabs were going to apply the screw of starvation for another day? Alarmed by this conjecture, he strove to hail them, and bring them back, but the effort only resulted in a hoarse whisper.

“May God forgive me!” thought he. “My brother, as well as all the others, will die before night! I have murdered them, and perhaps myself!”

Driven frantic with the thought, frenzy furnished him with the will and strength to speak out.

His voice could now be heard; for the walls of the stone building rang with the shouts of a madman.

He assailed the door with such force that the structure gave way, and Jim rushed out, prepared to make any promises or terms with their masters, to save the lives he had endangered by his obstinacy.

His submission was not required, for on looking out, two men and three or four boys were seen coming towards the penn, bearing bowls of water, and dishes filled with barley-gruel.

Jim had conquered in the strife between master and man. The old sheik had given orders for the white slaves to be fed.

Jim’s frenzy immediately subsided into an excitement of a different nature.

Seizing a calabash of water, he ran to his brother Bill, and raising him into a sitting posture, he applied the vessel to the man-o’-war’s-man’s lips.

Bill had not strength even to drink, and the water had to be poured down his throat.

Not until all of his companions had drunk, and swallowed a few mouthfuls of the barley-gruel, did Jim himself partake of anything.

The effect of food and water in restoring the energies of a starving man is almost miraculous; and he now congratulated his companions on the success of his scheme.

“It is all right!” he exclaimed. “We have conquered them! We shall not have to reap their harvest! We shall be fed, fattened, and sold, and perhaps be taken to Mogador. We should thank God for bringing us all safely through the trial. Had we yielded, there would have been no hope of ever regaining our liberty!”

Chapter Seventy.

Sold again.

Two days elapsed, during which time our adventurers were served with barley-gruel twice a day. They were allowed a sufficient quantity of water, with only the trouble of bringing it from the well, and enduring a good deal of insult and abuse from the women and children whom they chanced to meet on their way.

The second Krooman, who, in a moment of weakness inspired by the torture of thirst, had assisted the other slaves at their task, now tried in vain to get off from working. He came each evening to the penn to converse with his countryman, and at these meetings bitterly expressed his regret that he had submitted.

There was no hope for him now, for he had given proof that he could be made useful to his owners.

On the evening of the second day after they had been relieved from starvation, the white slaves were visited in their place of confinement by three Arabs they had not before seen.

These were well-armed, well-dressed, fine-looking fellows, having altogether a more respectable appearance than any inhabitants of the desert they had yet encountered.

Jim immediately entered into conversation with them, and learned that they were merchants, travelling with a caravan, and that they had claimed the hospitality of the town for that night.

They were willing to purchase slaves, and had visited the penn to examine those their hosts were offering for sale.

“You are just the men we are most anxious to see,” said Jim, in the Arabic language, which, during his long residence in the country, he had become acquainted with, and could speak fluently. “We want some merchant to buy us, and take us to Mogador, where we may find friends to ransom us.”

“I once bought two slaves,” rejoined one of the merchants, “and at great expense took them to Mogador. They told me that their consul would be sure to redeem them, but I found that they had no consul there. They were not redeemed, and I had to bring them away again, losing all the trouble and expense of a long journey.”

“Were they Englishmen?” asked Jim.

“No, Spaniards.”

“I thought so. Englishmen would certainly have been ransomed.”

“That is not so certain,” replied the merchant; “the English may not always have a consul in Mogador to buy up his countrymen.”

“We do not care whether there is one or not,” answered Jim. “One of the young fellows you see here has an uncle, a rich merchant in Mogador, who will ransom not only him, but all his friends. The three young men you see are officers of an English ship of war. They have rich fathers in England, all of them grand sheiks; and they were learning to be captains of war-ships, when they were lost on this coast. The uncle of one of them in Mogador will redeem the whole party of us.”

“Which is he who has the rich uncle?” inquired one of the Arabs.

Jim pointed to Harry Blount, saying, “That is the youngster. His uncle owns many great vessels that come every year to Swearah, laden with rich cargoes.”

“What is the name of this uncle?”

To give an appearance of truth to his story, Jim knew that it was necessary for some of the others to say something that would confirm it; and turning towards Harry, he muttered, “Master Blount, you are expected to say something, only two or three words; anything you like!”

“For God’s sake, get them to buy us!” said Harry, in complying with the strange request made to him.

Believing that the name he must give to the Arabs should something resemble in sound the words Harry had spoken, Jim told them that the name of the Mogador merchant was “For God’s sake buy us.”

After repeating these words two or three times, the Arabs were able to pronounce them, after a fashion.

“Ask the young man,” commanded one of them, “if he is sure the merchant ‘For-God’s-sake-bias’ will ransom you all?”

“When I am done speaking to you,” said Jim, whispering to Harry, “say Yes! nod your head, and then utter some words!”

“Yes!” exclaimed Harry, giving his head an abrupt inclination. “I think I know what you are trying to do, Jim. All right!”

“Yes!” said Jim, turning to the Arabs; “the young fellow says that he is quite certain his uncle will buy us all. Our friends at home will repay him.”

“But how about the black man?” asked one of the merchants. “He is not a Englishman?”

“No; but he speaks English. He has sailed in English ships, and will certainly be redeemed with the rest.”

The Arabs now retired from the penn, after promising to call and see our adventurers early in the morning.

After their departure, Jim related the whole of the conversation to his companions, which had the effect of inspiring them with renewed hope.

“Tell them anything,” said Harry, “and promise anything; for I think there is no doubt of our being ransomed if taken to Mogador, although I’m sure I have no uncle there, and don’t know whether there’s any English consul at that port.”

“To get to Mogador is our only chance,” said Jim; “and I wish I were guilty of no worse crime than using deception to induce some one to take us there. I have a hope that these men will buy us on speculation; and, if lies will induce them to do so, they shall have plenty of them from me. And you,” continued he, turning to the Krooman, “you must not let them know that you speak their language, or they will not give a dollar for you. When they come here in the morning, you must converse with the rest of us in English, so that they may have reason to think that you will also be redeemed.”

Next morning, the merchants again came to the penn; and the slaves, at their request, arose and walked out to the open space in front, where they could be better examined.

After becoming satisfied that all were capable of travelling, one of the Arabs, addressing Jim, said, “We are going to purchase you, if you satisfy us that you are not trying to deceive us, and agree to the terms we offer. Tell the nephew of the English merchant that we must be paid one hundred and fifty Spanish dollars for each of you.”

Jim made the communication to Harry; who at once consented that this sum should be paid.

“What is the name of his uncle?” asked one of the Arabs. “Let the young man tell us.”

“They wish to know the name of your uncle,” said Jim, turning to Harry. “The name I told you yesterday. You must try and remember it; for I must not be heard repeating it to you.”

“For God’s sake buy us!” exclaimed Harry.

The Arabs looked at each other with an expression that seemed to say, “It’s all right!”

“Now,” said one of the party, “I must tell you what will be the penalty, if we be deceived. If we take you to Mogador, and find that there is no one there to redeem you—if the young man, who says he has an uncle, be not telling the truth, then we shall cut his throat, and bring the rest of you back to the desert, to be sold into perpetual slavery. Tell him that.”

“They are going to buy us,” said Jim to Harry Blount; “but if we are not redeemed in Mogador, you are to have your throat cut for deceiving them.”

“All right!” said Harry, smiling at the threat; “that will be better than living any longer a slave in the Saara.”

“Now look at the Krooman,” suggested Sailor Bill, “and say something about him.”

Harry, taking the hint, turned towards the African.

“I hope,” said he, “that they will purchase the poor fellow; and that we may get him redeemed. After the many services he has rendered us, I should not like to leave him behind.”

“He consents that you may kill the Krooman if we are not ransomed,” said Jim, speaking to the Arab merchants, “but he does not like to promise more than one hundred dollars for a negro. His uncle might refuse to pay more.”

For some minutes the Arab conversed with each other in a low tone; and then one of them replied, “It is well. We will take one hundred dollars for the negro. And now get ready for the road. We shall start with you to-morrow morning by daybreak.”

The merchants then went off to complete their bargain with the old sheik, and make other arrangements for their departure.

For a few minutes the white slaves kept uttering exclamations of delight at the prospect of being once more restored to liberty. Jim then gave them a translation of what he had said about the Krooman.

“I know the Arab character so well,” said he, “that I did not wish to agree to all their terms without a little haggling, which prevents them from entertaining the suspicion that we are trying to deceive them. Besides, as the Krooman is not an English subject, there may be great difficulty in getting him redeemed; and we should therefore beforehand bargain for him as cheap as possible.”

Not long after the Arab merchants had taken their departure from the penn, a supply of food and drink was served out to them; which, from its copiousness, proved that it was provided at the expense of their new owners.

This beginning augured well for their future treatment; and that night was spent by the boy slaves in a state of contentment and repose greater than they had experienced since first setting foot on the inhospitable shores of the Saara.

Chapter Seventy One.

Onward once more.

Early next morning our adventurers were awakened and ordered to prepare for the road.

The Arab merchants had purchased from their late hosts three donkeys, upon which the white slaves were allowed to ride in turns. Harry Blunt, however, was distinguished from the rest. As the nephew of the rich merchant, “For God’s sake buy us!” he was deemed worthy of higher favour, and was permitted to have a camel.

In vain he protested against being thus elevated above his companions. The Arabs did not heed his remonstrance; and at a few words from Jim he discontinued them.

“They think that we are to be released from slavery by the money of your relative,” said Jim, “and you must do nothing to undeceive them. Not to humour them might awaken their suspicions. Besides, as you are the responsible person of the party, the one whose throat is to be cut if the money is not found, you are entitled to a little distinction, as compensation for extra anxiety.”

The Krooman, who had joined the slaves in cutting the grain, was in the field at work when the merchants moved off; and was not present to bid farewell to his more fortunate countryman.

After travelling about twelve miles through a fertile country, much of which was in cultivation, the Arab merchants arrived at a large reservoir of water, where they encamped for the night.

The water was in a stone tank, placed so as to catch all the rain that fell in a long narrow valley, gradually descending from some hills to the northward.

Jim had visited the place before; and told his companions that the tank had been constructed by a man whose memory was much respected, and who died nearly a hundred years ago.

During the night, the Krooman, who had been left behind, entered the encampment, confident in the belief that he had escaped from his taskmasters.

At sunset he had contrived to conceal himself among the barley sheaves, until his masters were out of sight, when he had started off on the track taken by the Arab merchants.

He was not allowed long indulgence in his dream of liberty. On the following morning, as the kafila was about to continue its journey, three men were seen approaching on swift camels; and shortly after Rias Abdallah Yezzed and two of his followers rode up.

They were in pursuit of the runaway Krooman, and in great rage at the trouble which he had caused them. So anxious were the boy slaves that the poor fellow should continue along with them, that, for their sake, the Arab merchants made a strenuous effort to purchase him; but Rias Abdallah obstinately refused to sell him at anything like a reasonable price. The Krooman had given proof that he could be very useful in the harvest field; and a sum much greater than had been paid for any of the others was demanded for him. He was worth more to his present owners than what the Arab merchants could afford to give; and was therefore dragged back to the servitude from which he had hoped to escape.

“You can see now that I was right,” said Jim. “Had we consented to cut their harvest, we should never have had an opportunity of regaining our liberty. Our labour for a single year would have been worth as much to them as the price they received for us, and we should have been held in perpetual bondage.”

Jim’s companions could perceive the truth of this observation; but not without being conscious that their good fortune was, on their part, wholly undeserved, and that had it not been for him, they would have yielded to the wishes of their late masters.

After another march the merchants made halt near some wells, around which a large Arab encampment was found already established, the flocks and herds wandering over the adjacent plain. Here our adventurers had an opportunity of observing some of the manners and customs of this nomadic people.

Here, for the first time, they witnessed the Arab method of making butter.

A goat’s-skin, nearly filled with the milk of camels, asses, sheep, and goats, all mixed together, was suspended to the ridge-pole of a tent, and swung to and fro by a child until the butter was produced. The milk was then poured off, and the butter clawed out of the skin by the black dirty fingers of one of the women.

The Arabs allege that they were the first people who discovered the art of making butter; though the discovery does not entitle them to any great credit, since they could scarce have avoided making it. The necessity of carrying milk in these skin bags, on a journey, must have conducted them to the discovery. The agitation of the fluid, while being transported on the backs of camels, producing the result, naturally suggested the idea of bringing it about by similar means when they were not travelling.

At this place the slaves were treated to some barley cakes, and were allowed a little of the butter; and this, notwithstanding the filthy mode in which it had been prepared, appeared to them the most delicious they had ever tasted.

During the evening, the three merchants, along with several other Arabs, seated themselves in a circle; when a pipe was lit, and passed round from one to another. Each would take a long draw, and then hand the pipe to his left-hand neighbour.

While thus occupied, they kept up an animated conversation, in which the word “Swearah” was often pronounced. Swearah, of course, meant “Mogador.”

“They were talking about us,” said Jim, “and we must learn for what purpose. I am afraid there is something wrong. Krooman,” he continued, addressing himself to the black, “they don’t know that you understand their language. Lie down near them, and pretend to be asleep; but take note of every word they say. If I go up to them, they will drive me away.”

The Krooman did as desired, and, carelessly sauntering near the circle, appeared to be searching for a soft place on which to stretch his body for the night.

This he discovered some seven or eight paces from the spot where the Arabs were seated.

“I have been disappointed about obtaining my freedom so many times,” muttered Jim, “that I can scarce believe I shall ever succeed. Those fellows are talking about Mogador; and I don’t like their looks. Hark! what is that about ‘more than you can get in Swearah!’ I believe these new Arabs are making an offer to buy us. If so, may their Prophet curse them!”

Chapter Seventy Two.

Another Bargain.

The conversation amongst the Arabs was kept up until a late hour; and, during the time it continued our adventurers were impatiently awaiting the return of the Krooman.

He came at length, after the Arabs had retired to their tents; and all gathered round him, eager to learn what he had heard.

“I find out too much,” said he, in answer to their inquiries; “too much, and no much good.”

“What was it?”

“Two of you to be sold to-morrow.”

“What two?”

“No one know. One man examine us all in the morning, but take only two.”

After suffering a long lesson teaching the virtue of patience, they learnt from Krooman that one of those who had been conversing with their masters was a grazier, owning large droves of cattle; and that he had lately been to Swearah.

He had told the merchants that they would not be able to get a large price for their slaves in that place, and that the chances were much against their making more than the actual expenses incurred in so long a journey. He assured the Arab merchants that no Christian consul or foreign merchant in Mogador would pay a dollar more for redeeming six slaves than what they could be made to pay for two or three; that they were not always willing or prepared to pay anything; and that whenever they did redeem a slave, they did not consider his value, but only the time and expense that had been incurred in bringing him to the place.

Under the influence of these representations, the Arab merchants had agreed to sell two of these white slaves to the grazier, thinking they would get as much for the remaining four as they would by taking all six to the end of the journey.

The owner of the herds was to make his choice in the morning.

“I thought there was a breaker ahead last night,” exclaimed Jim, after the Krooman had concluded his report. “We must not be separated except by liberty or death. Our masters must take us all to Mogador. There is trouble before us yet; but we must be firm, and overcome it. Firmness has saved us once, and may do so again.”

After all had promised to be guided in the coming emergency by Jim, they laid themselves along the ground and sought rest in sleep.

Next morning, while they were eating their breakfast, they were visited by the grazier who was expected to make choice of two of their number.

“Which is the one who speaks Arabic?” he inquired from one of the merchants.

Jim was pointed out, and was at once selected as one of the two to be purchased.

“Tell ’im to buy me, too, Jim,” said Bill, “We’ll sail in company, you and I, though I don’t much like partin’ with the young gentlemen here.”

“You shall not part either with them or me, if I can help it,” answered Jim; “but we must expect some torture. Let all bear it like devils, and don’t give in. That’s our only chance!”

Glancing his eyes over the other slaves, the grazier selected Terence as the second for whom he was willing to pay a price.

His terms having been accepted by the merchants, they were about concluding the bargain, when they were accosted by Jim.

He assured them that he and his companions were determined to die before they should be separated, that none of them would do any work if retained in slavery, and that all were determined to be taken to Swearah.

The merchants and the buyer only smiled at this interruption; and went on with the negotiation.

In vain did Jim appeal to their cupidity, reminding them that the merchant, “For God’s sake buy us”, would pay a far higher price for himself and his companions.

His arguments and entreaties failed to change their determination, the bargain was concluded, and Jim and Terence were made over to their new master.

The merchants then mounted their camels, and ordered the other four to follow them.

Harry Blount, Colin, and Sailor Bill, answered this command by sulkily sitting down upon the sand.

Another command from the merchants was given, in sharp tones that betrayed their rising wrath.

“Obey them!” exclaimed Jim. “Go on; and Master Terence and I will follow you. We’ll stand the brunt of the battle. They shall not hold me here alive!”

Colin and Bill each mounted a donkey, and Harry his camel; the Arab merchants seeming quite satisfied at the result of their slight exhibition of anger.

Jim and Terence attempted to follow them; but their new master was prepared for this; and, at a word of command, several of his followers seized hold of and fast bound both of them.

Jim’s threat, that they should not hold him alive, had thus proved but an idle boast.

Harry, Colin, and Bill, now turned back, dismounted, and showed their determination to remain with their companions down along side of them.

“These Christian dogs do not wish for liberty!” exclaimed one of the merchants. “Allah forbid that we should force them to accept it. Who will buy them?”

These words completely upset all Jim’s plans. He saw that he was depriving the others of the only opportunity they might ever have of obtaining their liberty.

“Go on, go on!” he exclaimed. “Make no further resistance. It is possible they may take you to Mogador. Do not throw away the chance.”

“We are not goin’ to lave you, Jim,” said Bill, “not even for liberty, leastways, I’m not. Don’t you be afeerd o’ that!”

“Of course we will not, unless we are forced to do so,” added Harry. “Have you not said that we must keep together?”

“Have you not all promised to be guided by me?” replied Jim. “I tell you now to make no further resistance. Go on with them, if you wish ever to be free!”

“Jim knows what he is about,” interposed Colin: “let us obey him.”

With some reluctance Harry and Bill were induced to mount again; but just as they were moving away, they were recalled by Jim, who told them not to leave; and that all must persevere in the determination not to be separated.

“The man has certainly gone mad,” reflected Harry Blount, as he turned back once more. “We must no longer be controlled by him; but Terence must not be left behind. We cannot forsake him.”

Again the three dismounted; and returning to the spot where Jim and Terence lay fast bound along the sand, sat determinedly down beside them.

Chapter Seventy Three.

More Torture.

The sudden change of purpose and the counter-orders given by Jim were caused by something he had just heard while listening to the conversation of the Arabs.

Seeing that the merchants, rather than have any unnecessary trouble with them, were disposed to sell them all, Jim had been unwilling to deprive his brother and the others of an opportunity of obtaining their freedom. For this reason had he entreated them to leave Terence and himself to their fate.

But just as he had prevailed on Harry and his companions to go quietly, he learnt from the Arabs that the man who had purchased Terence and himself refused to buy any more of them; and also that the other Arabs present were either unable or unwilling to buy them.

The merchants, therefore, would have to take them farther before they could dispose of them.

In Jim’s mind then revived the hope that, by opposing the wishes of his late masters, he and Terence might be bought back again, and taken on to Mogador. It was this hope that had induced him to recall his companions, after having urged them to depart.

A few words explained his apparently strange conduct to Harry and Colin, and they again promised to resist every attempt made to take them any farther unless all should go in company.

The merchants in vain commanded and entreated that the Christian dogs should move on. They used threats, and then resorted to blows.

Harry, to whom they had hitherto shown some respect, was beaten until his scanty garments were saturated with blood.

Unwilling to see them suffering so much torture unsupported by any selfish desire, Jim again counselled Harry and the others to yield obedience to their masters.

In this counsel he was warmly seconded by Terence.

But Harry declared his determination not to desert his old shipmate Colin, and Bill remained equally firm under the torture; while the Krooman, knowing that his only chance of liberty depended on remaining true to the white slaves, and keeping in their company, could not be induced to yield.

Perceiving that all his entreaties, addressed to his brother, Harry, and Colin, could not put an end to the painful scene he was compelled to witness, Jim strove to effect his purpose by making an appeal to his late masters.

“Buy us back, and take us all to Swearah as you promised,” said he. “If you do so, we will go cheerfully, as we were doing before. I tell you, you will be well paid for your trouble.”

One of the merchants, placing some confidence in the truth of this representation, now offered to buy Jim and Terence on his own account; but their new master refused to part with his freshly acquired property.

A crowd of men, women, and children, had now gathered around the spot; and from all sides were heard shouts of “Kill the obstinate Christian ‘dogs’. How dare they resist the will of true believers!”

This advice was given by those who had no pecuniary interest in the chattels in question; but the merchants, who had invested a large sum in the purchase of their white slaves, had no idea of making such a sacrifice for the gratification of a mere outburst of passion.

There was but one way for them to overcome the difficulty that had so unexpectedly presented itself. This was to separate the slaves by force; taking the four along with them, and leaving the other two to the purchaser, who would not revoke his bargain.

To accomplish this, the assistance of the bystanders was required, and readily obtained.

Harry was seized and hoisted to the back of his camel; to which he was firmly bound.

Colin, Bill, and the Krooman, were each set astride of a donkey, and then made fast by having their feet tied under the animal’s belly.

For a small sum the merchants then engaged two of the bystanders to accompany them, and guard the white slaves to the frontier of the Moorish empire—a distance of two days’ journey.

Just as the party was about to move away from the spot, one of the merchants, addressing himself to Jim, made the following observations:—

“Tell the young man—the nephew of the merchant ‘For God’s sake bias’—that since we have started for Swearah, in the belief that his story is true, we shall now take him there, whether he be willing or not; and if he has in any way deceived us, he shall surely die.”

“He has not deceived you,” said Jim; “take him and the rest of us there, and you will certainly be rewarded.”

“Then, why do they not go willingly?”

“Because they do not wish to leave their friends.”

“Ungrateful dogs! cannot they be thankful for their own good fortune? Do they take us for slaves, that we should do their will?”

While this conversation was going go, the other two merchants had headed their animals to the road; and in a minute after, Harry Blount and Colin had parted with their old messmate Terence, without a hope of ever seeing him again.

Chapter Seventy Four.

Hope deferred.

For the first hour of their journey, Harry, Colin, and Sailor Bill, were borne along, fast bound upon the backs of their animals. So disagreeable did they find this mode of locomotion, that the Krooman was requested to inform their masters that they were willing to accompany them without further opposition, if allowed the freedom of their limbs. This was the first occasion on which the Krooman had made known to the Arab merchants that he could speak their language.

After receiving a few curses and blows for having so long concealed his knowledge of it, the white slaves were unbound, and the animals they bestrode were driven along in advance of the others, while the two hired guards were ordered to keep a careful watch over them.

The journey was continued until a late hour of the night, when the travellers arrived at a high wall enclosing a small village.

After the slaves had been conducted inside, and the gate fastened behind them, their masters, relieved of all anxiety about losing their property, accepted the hospitality of the sheik of the place, and took their departure for his house, leaving orders that the white slaves should be fed.

After the latter had eaten a hearty meal, consisting of barley-bread and milk, they were conducted to a penn, which was to be their sleeping place, and where they passed the greater part of the night in fighting the fleas.

Never before had either of them encountered these insects either so large in size or of so keen appetites.

It was only at the time at which their journey should have been resumed, that they forgot their hopes and cares in the repose of sleep. Weary in body and soul, they slept on till a late hour; and when aroused to consciousness by an Arab bringing their breakfast, they were surprised to see that the sun was high up in the heavens.

Why had they not been awakened before?

Why this delay?

In the mind of each was an instinctive fear that there must be something wrong, that some other obstacle had arisen, blocking up their road to freedom.

Hours passed, and still their masters came not near them.

They remained in much anxiety, vainly endeavouring to surmise what had caused the interruption to their journey.

Knowing that the merchants had expressed an intention to conduct them to Mogador as soon as possible, they could not doubt but that the delay arose from some cause affecting their welfare.

Late in the afternoon they were visited by their masters; and in that interview their worst fears were more than realised.

By the aid of the Krooman, one of the merchants informed Harry that he had deceived them, that the sheik, of whose hospitality they had been partaking, had often visited Swearah, and was acquainted with all the foreign residents there. He had told them that there was no one of the name of “For God’s sake bias.”

He had assured them that they were being imposed upon; and that by taking the white slaves to Swearah they would certainly lose them.

“We will not kill you,” said one of their masters to Harry, “for we have not had the trouble of carrying you the whole distance; and besides, we should be doing an injury to ourselves. We shall take you back to the borders of the desert, and there sell you for what you will fetch.”

Harry told the Krooman to inform his masters that he had freely pledged his existence on the truth of the story he had told them, that he assuredly had a rich friend in Mogador, who would redeem them all; but that, should his uncle not be in the place at the time they should arrive there, it would make no difference, as they would certainly be ransomed by the English consul. “Tell them,” added Harry, “that if they will take us to Mogador, and we are not ransomed as I promised, they shall be welcome to my life. I should then willingly die. Tell them not to sell us until they have proved my words to be false; and not to wrong both themselves and us by trusting too much to the words of a stranger.”

To this communication the merchants made reply: that they had been told that slaves brought from the desert into the Empire of Morocco could, and sometimes did, claim the protection of that government, which set them free without paying anything; and those who had been at the expense of bringing them did not get even thanks for their trouble.

One of the merchants, whose name was Bo Muzem, seemed inclined to listen with some favour to the representations of Harry; but he was overruled by the other two: so that all the young Englishman’s assertions about the wealth of his parents at home, and the immense worth he and his comrades were to their country, as officers in its navy, failed to convince those to whom his words were addressed.

The merchants at length went away, leaving Harry and Colin in an agony of despair; while Sailor Bill and the Krooman seemed wholly indifferent about their future destiny. The prospect of being again taken to the desert seemed to have so benumbed the intellect of both, as to leave them incapable of emotion.

Hope, fear, and energy, appeared to have forsaken the old sailor, who, usually so fond of thinking aloud, had not now sufficient spirit left, even for the anathematising of his enemies.

Chapter Seventy Five.

El Haji.

Late in the evening of the second day passed within the walls of the town, two travellers knocked at the gate for admittance.

One of them gave a name which created quite a commotion in the village, all seeming eager to receive the owner with some show of hospitality.

The merchants sat up to a late hour, in company with these strangers and the sheik of the place.

Notwithstanding this, they were astir upon the following morning before daybreak, busied in making preparations to renew their journey.

Our adventurers, on being allowed some breakfast, were commanded to eat it in all haste, and then assist in preparing the animals for the road.

They were also informed that they were to be taken back to the Saara, and sold.

“Shall we go, or die?” asked Colin. “I, for one, had rather die than again pass through the hardships of a journey in the desert.”

Neither of the others made any reply to this. The spirit of despair had taken too strong a hold upon them.

The merchants were themselves obliged to caparison the animals; and just as they were about to use some strong arguments to induce their refractory slaves to mount, they were told that “El Haji” (“the pilgrim”) wished to have an interview with the Christians.

Soon after, one of the strangers who had entered the town the night before, was seen slowly approaching.

He was a tall, venerable-looking Arab, with a long white beard reaching down to the middle of his breast.

Having performed the pilgrimage to the Prophet’s Tomb, he was entitled to the respect and hospitality of all good Mussulmans, whithersoever he might wander.

With the Krooman as interpreter, he asked many questions; and seemed to be much interested in the fate of the miserable looking objects before him.

After his inquiries had been answered as to the name of the vessel in which they had reached the country, the time they had passed in slavery, and the manner of treatment which had produced their emaciated and wretched condition, he made other inquiries about their friends and relatives at home.

Harry informed him that Colin and himself had parents, brothers, and sisters, who were now probably mourning them as lost; that they and their two companions were sure to be ransomed, could they find some one who would take them to Mogador. He also added that their present masters had promised to take them to that place, but were now prevented from doing so, through an apprehension that they would not be rewarded for their trouble.

“I will do all I can to assist you,” said El Haji, after the Krooman had given the interpretation of Harry’s speech. “I owe a debt of gratitude to one of your countrymen, and I shall endeavour to repay it. When in Cairo I was unwell, and in want of food. An officer belonging to an English ship of war gave me a coin of gold. That piece of money proved both life and fortune to me; for with it I was able to continue my journey, and reach my friends. We are all the children of the true God; and it is our duty to assist one another. I must have a talk with your masters.”

The old pilgrim then turning to the three merchants, said—

“My friends, you have promised to take these Christian slaves to Swearah, where they might be redeemed. Are you bad men, who fear not God, that your promise should be thus broken?”

“We think that they have deceived us,” answered one of the merchants, “and we are afraid to carry them within the emperor’s dominions, where they might be taken from us without our receiving anything. We are poor men, and nearly all our merchandise has been given for these slaves. We cannot afford to lose them.”

“You will not lose the value of them,” rejoined the old man, “by taking them to Swearah. They belong to a country the Government of which will not allow its subjects to remain in bondage; and there is not an English merchant in Swearah that would not redeem them. Any one who should refuse to do so would scarce dare return to his own country again. You will make more by taking them to Swearah than anywhere else.”

“But they can give themselves up to the governor when they reach Swearah,” urged one of the merchants, “and we may be ordered out of the town without receiving a single dollar for them. Such has been done before. The good sheik here knows of an Arab merchant who was treated so. He lost all, while the governor got the ransom, and put it in his own pocket.”

This was an argument El Haji was unable to answer; but he was not long in finding a plan for removing the difficulty thus presented.

“Do not take them within the empire of Morocco,” said he, “until after you have been paid for them. Two of you can stay with them here, while the third goes on to Swearah with a letter from this young man to his friends. You have as yet no proof that he is trying to deceive you; and therefore, as true men, you have no excuse for breaking your promise to him. Take a letter to Swearah; and if the money be not paid, then do with them as you please, and the wrong will not rest upon your heads.”

Bo Muzem, the youngest of the merchants, immediately seconded the pilgrim’s proposal, and spoke energetically in its favour.

He observed they were but one day’s journey from Agadeer, a frontier town of Morocco; and that from there Swearah could be reached in three days.

The other two for a few minutes held consultation apart; and then one of them announced that they had resolved upon following El Haji’s advice. Bo Muzem might go to Swearah as the bearer of a letter from Harry to his uncle.

“Tell the young man,” said one of the merchants, addressing himself to the interpreter, “tell him from me, that if the ransom be not paid, he shall surely die on Bo Muzem’s return. Tell him that.”

The Krooman made the communication, and Harry without demur accepted the conditions.

A piece of dirty crumpled paper, a reed pen, and some ink, were then placed before Harry. While the letter was being written, Bo Muzem commenced making preparations for his journey.

Knowing that their only hope of liberty depended on their situation being made known to some countryman resident in Mogador, Harry took up the pen; and, with much difficulty, succeeded in scribbling the following words:—

“Sir,—Two midshipmen of H.M.S. — (cast away a few weeks ago near Cape Blanco), and two seamen, are now held in slavery at a small town one day’s journey from Agadeer. The bearer of this note is one of our masters. His business in Mogador is to learn if we will be ransomed; and if he be unsuccessful in finding any one who will pay the money to redeem us, the writer of this note is to be killed. If you cannot or will not pay the money they require (one hundred and fifty dollars for each) please direct the bearer to some one whom you think will do so.

“There is another midshipman from the same vessel, and an English sailor, one day’s journey south of this place.

“Perhaps the bearer of this note, Bo Muzem, may be induced to purchase them, so that they also may be ransomed.

“Henry Blount.”

This letter Harry folded, and directed to “Any English merchant in Mogador.”

By the time it was written, Bo Muzem had mounted and made himself ready for the road.

After receiving the letter, he wished Harry to be informed once more, that, should the journey to Swearah prove a fruitless one, nothing but his (Harry’s) life would compensate him (Bo Muzem) for the disappointment.

After promising to be back in eight days, and enjoining upon his partners to look well after their property during his absence, Bo Muzem took his departure for the port of Mogador.

Chapter Seventy Six.

Bo Muzem’s Journey.

Although an Arab merchant, Bo Muzem was an honest man, one, who in all business transactions, told the truth, and expected to hear it from others.

Notwithstanding this, he pursued his journey towards Mogador with but a faint belief that the representations made by the young Englishman would prove true, and with the determination of taking the life of the latter should he find himself deceived. He placed more faith in the story told him by the sheik than in the mere hypothesis of the pilgrim, that the white slaves would certainly find some one to ransom them.

His journey was partly undertaken through a sense of duty. After the promise made to the slaves, he thought it but right to become fully convinced that they were not to be redeemed before the idea of taking them to Mogador could be honourably abandoned.

He pressed forward upon his journey with the perseverance and self-denial so peculiar to his race. After crossing the spurs of the Atlas Mountains he reached, on the evening of the third day, a small walled town, within three hours’ ride of the famed seaport of Mogador.

Here he stopped for the night, intending to proceed to the city early on the next morning. Immediately on entering the town, Bo Muzem met a person whose face wore a familiar look.

It was the grazier to whom, but a few days before, he had sold the two slaves, Terence and Jim.

“Ah my friend, you have ruined me!” exclaimed the grazier, after the first salutations had passed between them. “I have lost those two useless Christian dogs you sold me, and I am a ruined man.”

Bo Muzem requested him to explain himself.

“After your departure,” said the grazier, “I tried to get some work out of the infidels; but they would not obey me; and I believed they would have died before doing anything to make themselves useful. As I am a poor man, I could not afford to keep them in idleness; nor yet to kill them, which I had a strong inclination to do. The day after you left me, I received intelligence from Swearah, which commanded me to go there immediately no business of importance; and thinking that possibly some Christian fool in that place might give something for his infidel countrymen, I took the two dogs along with me.

“They promised that, if I would carry them to the English consul, he would pay a large price for their ransom. When we entered Mogador, and reached the consul’s house, the dogs told me that they were free; and defied me to take them out of the city. I could not get a piastre for my trouble and expense. The governor of Swearah and the Emperor of Morocco are on good terms with the infidels’ Government; and they also hate us Arabs of the desert. There is no justice in Mogador for such as we. If you take your slaves into the city, you will lose them.”

“I shall not bring them into the empire of Morocco,” replied Bo Muzem, “until I have first received the money for them.”

“You will never get it in Swearah. Their consul will not pay a dollar, but will try to have them liberated without giving you anything.”

“But I have a letter from one of the slaves to his uncle, a rich merchant in Swearah. The uncle will pay the money.”

“The slave has lied to you. He has no uncle there, and I can soon convince you that such is the case. There is now staying in this village a Mogador Jew, who is acquainted with every infidel merchant in the city, and he also understands the languages they speak. Let him see the letter.”

Anxious to be convinced of whether he was being deceived or not, Bo Muzem readily agreed to this proposition; and in company with the grazier, he repaired to the house where the Jew was residing.

The latter, on being shown Harry’s letter, and asked to whom it was addressed, replied—

“To any English merchant in Mogador.”

“Bismillah!” exclaimed Bo Muzem. “All English merchants cannot be uncles to the young dog who wrote this letter!”

“Tell me,” added he, “did you ever hear of an English merchant in Mogador named ‘For-God-sake-bias?’”

The Jew smiled, and with some difficulty restraining an inclination to laugh outright at the question, gave the Arab a translation of the words, “For God’s sake, buy us.”

Bo Muzem was now satisfied that he had been “sold.”

“I shall get no further,” said he, after they had parted with the Jew. “I shall return to my partners. We shall kill the Christian dog who wrote the letter and sell his two companions for what we can get for them.”

“That is your best plan,” rejoined the grazier. “They do not deserve freedom; and may Allah forbid that hereafter any true believer should try to help them to it!”

Early next morning Bo Muzem set out on his return journey, thankful for the good fortune that had enabled him so early to detect the imposture that was being practised upon him.

He was accompanied by the grazier, who chanced to be journeying in the same direction.

“The next Christian slaves I see for sale I intend buying,” remarked the latter, as they journeyed along.

“Bismillah!” exclaimed Bo Muzem; “that is strange. I thought you had had enough of them?”

“So I have,” assented the grazier; “but that’s just why I want more of them. I want revenge on the unbelieving dogs; and will buy them for the purpose of obtaining it. I will work them until they are too old for anything, and then let them die in a ditch.”

“Then buy the ones we have for sale,” proposed Bo Muzem. “We are willing to sell them cheap, all but one. The man who wrote this letter I must kill. I have sworn it by the Prophet’s beard.”

As both parties appeared anxious for a bargain, they soon came to an understanding as to the terms; and the grazier promised to give ten dollars in money and four heads of horses for each of the slaves that was for sale. He also agreed that one of his herdsmen should assist in driving the cattle to any settlement where a market might be found for them.

The simple Bo Muzem had now in reality been “sold”: for the story he had been told about the escape for the two slaves, Terence and Jim, was wholly and entirely false.

Chapter Seventy Seven.

Rais Mourad.

Six days had passed, during which the white slaves were comparatively well treated, far better than at any other time since their shipwreck. They were not allowed to suffer from thirst, and were supplied with nearly as much food as they required.

On the sixth day after the departure of Bo Muzem, they were visited by their masters, accompanied by a stranger who was a Moor.

They were commanded to get up on their feet; and were then examined by the Moor in a manner that awakened suspicions that he was about to buy them.

The Moor wore a caftan richly embroidered on the breast and sleeves, and confined around the waist with a silken sash or girdle.

A pair of small yellow Morocco leather boots peeped out beneath trousers of great width made of the finest satin; and on his head was a turban of bright scarlet silk.

Judging from the respect shown to him by the merchants, he was an individual of much importance. This was also evident from the number of his followers, all of whom were mounted on beautiful Arabian horses.

The appearance of his whole retinue gave evidence that he was some personage of great wealth and influence.

After he had examined the slaves, he retired with the two merchants; and shortly afterwards the Krooman learnt from one of his followers that the white slaves had become the property of the wealthy Moor.

The bright anticipations of liberty that had filled their souls for the last few days vanished at this intelligence. Each felt a shock of pain, of hopeless despair, that for some moments stunned him almost to speechlessness.

Harry Blount was the first to awaken to the necessity of action.

“Where are our masters the merchants?” he exclaimed. “They cannot, they shall not sell us. Come, all of you! Follow me!”

Rushing forth from the penn, that had been allowed them for a residence, the young Englishman, followed by his companions, started towards the dwelling of the sheik, to which place the merchants and the Moor had retired.

All were now excited with disappointment and despair; and on reaching the sheik’s house, the two Arab merchants were called out to listen to a volley of reproaches.

“Why have you sold us?” asked the Krooman, as the merchants came forth. “Have you not promised that we should be taken to Swearah, and has not your partner gone there to obtain the money for our ransom?”

The two merchants were, at this moment, on good terms with themselves and all the world besides. They had made what they believed to be a good bargain, and were in the humour for being agreeable.

Moreover, they did not wish to be thought guilty of a wrong, even by Christian slaves; and they therefore condescended to give some explanation.

“Suppose,” said one of them, “that our partner Bo Muzem should find a man in Mogador who is willing to ransom you, how much are we to get for you?”

“One hundred dollars for me,” answered the Krooman, “and one hundred and fifty for each of the others.”

“True; and for that we should have to take you there, and be at the expense of maintaining you on the road?”

“Yes.”

“Well, Rais Mourad, this wealthy Moor, has paid us one hundred and fifty dollars for each of you; and should we not be fools to take you all the way to Mogador for less money? Besides, we might not get paid anything, whereas we have received it in cash from Rais Mourad. You are no longer our slaves, but his.”

When the Krooman had made this communication to the others, they saw that all further parley with the Arab merchants was useless; and that their destiny was now in the keeping of Rais Mourad.

At Harry’s request, the Krooman endeavoured to ascertain in what direction the Moor was going to take them; but the only information they received was that Rais Mourad knew his own business, and was not in the habit of conferring with his slaves as to what he should do with them.

Some of the followers of the Moor now came forward; and the slaves were ordered back to their penn, where they found some food awaiting them. They were commanded to eat it immediately, as they were soon to set forth upon a long journey.

Not one of them, after their cruel disappointment, had any appetite; and Sailor Bill doggedly declared that he would never taste food again.

“Don’t despair, Bill,” said Harry; “there is yet hope for us.”

“Where, where is it?” exclaimed Colin; “I cannot perceive it.”

“If we are constantly changing owners,” argued Harry, “we may yet fall into the hands of some one who will take us to Mogador.”

“Is that your only hope?” asked Colin in a tone of disappointment.

“Think of poor Jim,” added Bill; “he’s ’ad fifty masters, been ten years in slavery, and not free yet; and no ’ope av it neyther.”

“Shall we go quietly with our new master?” asked Colin.

“Yes,” answered Harry; “I have had quite enough of resistance, and the beating that is sure to follow it. My back is raw at this moment. The next time I make any resistance, it shall be when there is a chance of gaining something by it, instead of a sound thrashing.”

Rais Mourad being unprovided with animals for his slaves to ride upon, and wishing to travel at a greater speed than they could walk, purchased four small horses from the sheik of the place. It was during the time these horses were being caught and made ready for the road, that our adventurers were allowed to eat their dinner.

Although Harry, as well as the others, had determined on making no opposition to going along with Rais Mourad, they were very anxious to learn where he intended to take them.

All the inquiries made by the Krooman, for the purpose of gratifying this curiosity, only produced the answer, “God knows, and will not tell you. Why should we do more than He?”

Just as the horses were brought out, and all were nearly ready for a start, there occurred a commotion at the gate of the town; and next moment Bo Muzem, accompanied by the grazier, rode in through the gateway.

Chapter Seventy Eight.

Bo Muzem back again.

As soon as the white slaves recognised the messenger to Mogador, they all rushed forward to meet him.

“Speak, Krooman!” exclaimed Harry. “Ask him if the money for our ransom will be paid? If so, we are free, and they dare not sell us again.”

“Here—here!” exclaimed Bill, pointing to the man who came along with Bo Muzem. “Axe this man where be brother Jim an’ Master Terence?”

Harry and Colin turned towards the man, from whom Bill desired this inquiry to be made, and recognised in him the grazier to whom Terence and Jim had been sold.

The Krooman had no opportunity for putting the question; for Bo Muzem, on drawing near to the gate of the town, had allowed his passion to mount into a violent storm. As soon as he beheld the slaves, he shouted out, “Christian dogs! you have deceived me! Let every man, woman, and child, in this town assemble, and be witnesses of the fate that this lying infidel so richly deserves. Let all witness the death of a slave, who has falsely declared he has an uncle in Swearah, named ‘For-God’s-sake-bias’. Let all witness the revenge Bo Muzem will take on the unbelieving dog who has deceived him.”

As soon as Bo Muzem’s tongue was stopped sufficiently to enable him to hear the voices of those around him, he was informed that the white slaves were all sold, the nephew of “For-God’s-sake-bias” among the rest, and on better terms than he and his partners had expected to get at Swearah.

Had Harry Blount been reserved, Bo Muzem would have been much pleased at this news; but he now declared that his partners had no right to sell without his concurrence—that he owned an interest in the slaves; and that the dog who had deceived him should not be sold, but should suffer the penalty incurred, for sending him, Bo Muzem, on his long and bootless journey.

Rais Mourad now came upon the ground. The Moor was not long in comprehending all the circumstances connected with the affair. He instantly ordered his followers to gather around the white slaves, and escort them outside the walls of the town.

Bo Muzem attempted to prevent the order from being executed. He was opposed by everybody, not only by by the Moor, but his own partners, as also the sheik of the town, who declared that there should be no blood spilt among those partaking of his hospitality.

The slaves were now mounted on the horses that had been provided for them, and conducted through the gateway, leaving Bo Muzem half frantic with impotent rage.

There was but one man to sympathise with him in his disappointment—the grazier to whom Terence and Jim had been sold, and who had made arrangements for the purchase of the other three.

Riding up to the Moor, this man declared that the slaves were his property, that he had purchased them the day before; and had given for each four horses, and ten dollars in money.

He loudly protested against being “choused” out of his bargain, and declared that he would bring two hundred men, if necessary, for the purpose of reclaiming his own.

Rais Mourad, paying no attention to this threat, gave orders to his followers to move on; and, although it was now almost night, he started off in the direction of Agadeer.

Before he had proceeded far, he perceived the Arab grazier riding at full speed in the opposite direction, and towards his own home.

“I wish,” said Colin, “that we had made some inquiries of that fellow about Jim and Terence; but it’s too late now.”

“Yes, too late,” echoed Harry; “and I wish that he had obtained possession in the place of our present master; we should then have all come together again. But what are we to think of this last turn of Fortune’s wheel?”

“I am rather pleased at it,” answered Colin. “A while ago we were in despair because the Moor had bought us. That was a mistake. If he had not done so, you, Harry, would have been killed.”

“Bill!” added the young Scotchman, turning to the sailor, “what are you dreaming about?”

“Nothink,” answered Bill, “I’m no goin’ to drame or think any mair.”

“We are agwine straight for Swearah,” observed the Krooman, as he spoke glancing towards the north-west.

“That is true,” exclaimed Harry, looking in the same direction. “Can it be that we are to be taken to Mogador, after all? If so, there is hope for us yet.”

“But Bo Muzem could find no one there who would pay the money for our ransom,” interposed Colin.

“He nebba go thar,” said the Krooman. “He nebba hab de time.”

“I believe the Krooman is right,” said Harry. “We have been told that Mogador is four days’ journey from here; and the merchant was gone but six days.”

The conversation of the slaves was here interrupted by the Moors, who kept constantly urging them to greater speed.

The night came on very dark, but Rais Mourad would not allow them to move at a slower pace.

Sailor Bill, being as he declared unused to “navigate any sort o’ land craft”, could only keep his seat on the animal he bestrode, by allowing it to follow the others, while he clutched its mane with a firm grasp of both hands.

The journey was continued until near midnight; when the old sailor, unable any longer to endure the fatigue, managed to check the pace of his animal and dismount.

The Moors endeavoured to make him proceed, but were unsuccessful.

Bill declared that should he again be placed on the horse, he should probably fall off and break his neck.

This was communicated to Rais Mourad, who had turned back in a rage to inquire the cause of the delay. It was the Krooman who acted as interpreter.

The Moor’s anger immediately subsided on learning that one of the slaves could speak Arabic.

“Do you and your companions wish for freedom?” asked Rais Mourad, addressing himself to the Krooman.

“We pray for it every hour.”

“Then tell that foolish man that freedom is not found here, that to obtain it he must move on along with me.”

The Krooman made the communication as desired.

“I don’t want to hear any more about freedom,” answered Bill; “I’ve ’eard enough av it. If any on ’em is goin’ to give us a chance for our liberty, let ’em do it without so many promises.”

The old sailor remained obstinate.

Neither entreaties nor threats could induce him to go farther; and Rais Mourad gave orders to his followers to halt upon the spot, saying that he should stay there for the remainder of the night. The halt was accordingly made, and a temporary camp established.

Although exhausted with their long, rough ride, Harry and Colin could not sleep. The hope of liberty was glowing too brightly within their bosoms.

This hope had not been inspired by anything that had been said or done by Rais Mourad, for they now placed no trust in the promises of any one.

Their hopes were simply based upon the belief that they were journeying towards Mogador, and that the Moor, their master, was an intelligent man—a man who ought to know that he would not lose his money by taking English subjects to a place where they would be sure of being ransomed.

Chapter Seventy Nine.

A Pursuit.

On the first appearance of day Rais Mourad ordered the march to be resumed, himself riding in the advance over a long ridge of sand. The sun soon after shone forth, and on a high hill about four leagues distant were seen the white walls of the City of Santa Cruz, or, as it is called by the Arabs, Agadeer.

Descending from the sand-ridge, the cavalcade moved over a level plain covered with grain crops and dotted here and there with small walled villages, each surrounded by a plantation of vines and date-trees.

At one of the villages near the road the cavalcade made halt and was admitted within the walls. Throwing themselves down in the shade of some date-trees the white slaves soon fell into a sound slumber.

Three hours after they were awakened to breakfast, which consisted of hot barley cakes and honey.

Before they had finished their repast, Rais Mourad came up to the spot and entered into conversation with the Krooman.

“What does the Moor say?” inquired Harry.

“He say dat if we be no bad, and no cheat him, he take us to Swearah to de English consul.”

“Of course we will promise that, or anything else,” asserted Harry, “and keep the promise too, if we can. He will be sure of being well paid for us. Tell him that!”

The Krooman obeyed; and the Moor, in reply, said that he was well aware that he would be paid something by the consul, but that he required a written promise from the slaves themselves as to the amount.

He wanted them to sign an agreement that he should receive two hundred dollars for each of them.

This they readily assented to; and the Moor then produced a piece of paper, a reed pen, and some ink.

Rais Mourad wrote the agreement himself in Arabic on one side of the paper, and then reading it sentence by sentence requested the Krooman to translate it to his companions.

The translation given by the Krooman was as follows:—

“To English Consul.

“We be four Christian slave. Rais Mourad buy us of Arab. We promise to gib him two hundred dollar for one, or eight hundred dollar for four, if he take us to you. Please pay him quick.”

Harry and Colin signed the paper without any hesitation, and it was then handed, along with the pen, to Sailor Bill.

The old sailor took the paper and, after carefully surveying every object around him, walked up to one of the saddles lying on the ground a few paces off. Spreading the paper on the saddle he knelt down and very deliberately set about the task of making his autograph.

Slowly, as the hand of a clock moving over the face of the dial, did Bill’s hand pass over the paper, while his head oscillated from side to side as each letter was being shaped.

After he had succeeded in painting a few characters which, in his opinion, expressed the name of “William McNeal,” the document was handed to Harry, who was asked to write a similar agreement on the other side of the paper, which they were also to sign.

Rais Mourad was determined on being certain that his slaves had put their names to such an agreement as he wished, and therefore had written it himself, so that he might not be deceived.

About two hours before sunset all were again in the saddle, and, riding out through the gateway of the town, took a path leading up the mountain on which stands the city of Santa Cruz.

When about half way up, a party of horsemen, between twenty and thirty in number, was seen coming after them at full speed.

Rais Mourad remembered the threat made by the grazier, who claimed the slaves as his property; and every exertion was made by him to reach the city before his party could be overtaken.

The horses ridden by the white slaves were small animals, in poor condition, and were unable to move up the steep hill with much speed, although the riders had been reduced by starvation to the very lightest of weights.

Before reaching the level plain on the top of the hill, the pursuers had gained on them rapidly, and lessened the distance between the two parties by nearly half a mile. The nearest gate of the city was still more than a mile ahead, and towards it the Moors urged their horses with all the energy that could be inspired by oaths, kicks, and blows.

As Rais Mourad’s party approached the gate, the heads of their pursuers were seen just rising over the crest of the hill behind them. But as the Moor saw that his slaves were now safe, he checked his speed, and the few yards that remained of the journey were performed at a slow pace: for the great man did not wish to enter the gate of a strange city in a hasty or undignified manner.

There was no delay in passing the sentinels; and in five minutes after the weary slaves dismounted from their nearly exhausted steeds, and were commanded by Rais Mourad to thank God that they had arrived safe within the limits of the great Empire of Morocco.

In less than a quarter of an hour later, Bo Muzem and the grazier rode through the gateway, accompanied by a troop of fierce-looking Arab horsemen.

The wrath of the merchant seemed to have waxed greater in the interval, and he appeared as if about to make an immediate attack upon Harry Blount, the chief object of his spiteful vengeance.

In this he was prevented by Rais Mourad, who appealed to an officer of the city guard to protect him and his property.

The officer informed Bo Muzem that, while within the walls of the city, he must not molest other people, and the latter was compelled to give his word that he would not do so, that is to say, he was “bound over to keep the peace.”

The other Arabs, in whose company he had come, were also given to understand that they were in a Moorish city; and, as they saw that they were powerless to do harm without receiving punishment, their fierce deportment soon gave way to a demeanour more befitting the streets of a civilised town.

Both pursued and pursuers were cautioned against any infringement of the laws of the place, and as a different quarter was assigned to each party, all chances of a conflict were, for the time, happily frustrated.

Chapter Eighty.

Moorish Justice.

The next morning, Rais Mourad was summoned to appear before the governor of the place. He was ordered also to bring his slaves along with him. He had no reluctance in obeying these orders; and a soldier conducted him and his followers to the governor’s residence.

Bo Muzem and the grazier were there before him; and the governor soon after made his appearance in the large room where both parties were waiting audience.

He was a fine-looking man, of amiable aspect, about sixty-five years of age. From his appearance, Harry and Colin had but little fear for the result of his decision in any appeal that might be made to him.

Bo Muzem was the first to speak. He stated that, in partnership with two other merchants, he had purchased the four slaves then present. He had never given his consent to the sale made by his partners to the Moor; and there was one of the slaves who, it had been distinctly understood, was not to be sold at all. That slave he now claimed as his own property. He had been commissioned by his partners to go to Swearah, and there dispose of the whole lot. He had sold the other two to his friend Mahommed, who was by his side. He had no claim on them. Mahommed, the grazier, was now their lawful owner.

The grazier was next called upon to make his statement.

This was soon done. All he had to say was, that he had purchased three Christian slaves from his friend, Bo Muzem; and had given four horses and ten dollars in money for each of them. They had been taken away forcibly by the Moor, Rais Mourad, from whom he now claimed them.

Rais Mourad was now called upon to answer the accusation. The question was put: why he retained possession of another man’s property?

In reply, he stated that he had purchased the slaves from two Arab merchants, and had paid for them on the spot, giving one hundred and fifty silver dollars for each.

After the Moor had finished his statement, the governor remained silent for an interval of two or three minutes.

Presently, turning to Bo Muzem, he asked, “Did your partners offer you a share of the money they received for the slaves?”

“Yes,” answered the merchant, “but I would not accept it.”

“Have you, or your partners, received from the man who claims three of the slaves, twelve horses and thirty dollars?”

After some hesitation, Bo Muzem answered in the negative.

“The slaves belong to the Moor, Rais Mourad, who has paid the money for them,” said the governor, “and they shall not be taken from him here. Depart from my presence, all of you.”

All retired; and, as they did so, the grazier was heard to mutter some words about there being no justice for poor Arabs in Morocco.

Rais Mourad gave orders to his followers to prepare for the road; and just as they were ready to start, he requested Bo Muzem to accompany him outside the walls of the city.

The merchant consented, on condition that his friend Mahommed the grazier should go along with him. A peculiar smile overspread the features of Rais Mourad as he granted this request.

The Arab grazier, anxious to have another opportunity of wrangling over his claim, accompanied his deluded companion outside the city gates.

“My good friend,” said Rais Mourad, patronisingly speaking to Bo Muzem, “you have been deceived. Had you taken these Christians to Swearah, as you promised to do, you would have been paid for them all that you could reasonably have asked. I live in Swearah, and was obliged to make a long journey to the south upon urgent business. Fortunately, on my return, I met with your partners, and bought their slaves from them. The profit I shall make on them will more than repay me all the expenses of my journey. The man Mahommed, whom you call your friend, has bought two other Christians. He has sold them to the English consul. Having made two hundred piastres by that transaction, he was anxious to trade you out of these others, and make a few hundred more. He was deceiving you for the purpose of obtaining your property at a cheap rate. There is but one God, Mahomet is his Prophet, and you, Bo Muzem, are a fool!”

Bo Muzem required no further evidence in confirmation of the truth of this statement. He could not doubt that the Moor was an intelligent man, who knew what he was about when buying the slaves. The grazier had certainly purchased the two slaves spoken of; had acknowledged having carried them to Swearah, and was now anxious to obtain the other three.

All was now clear to Bo Muzem; and for a moment he stood mute and motionless under a sense of shame at his own stupidity.

This feeling was succeeded by one of wild rage against the man who had so craftily outwitted him.

Drawing his scimitar, he rushed towards the grazier; who, having been attentive to all that had been said, was not wholly unprepared for the attack.

The Arabs generally never acquire much skill in the use of the scimitar; and an affair between them with this weapon is soon decided.

The combat between the merchant and his antagonist was not an exception to other affrays of the kind. It was a desperate struggle for life or death, witnessed by the white slaves, who felt no sympathy for either of the combatants.

A Mussulman in a quarrel generally places more dependence on the justice of his cause than on his strength or skill; and when such is not the case, much of his natural prowess is lost to him.

Confident in the rectitude of his indignation, Bo Muzem, with his Mahommedan ideas of fatalism, was certain that the hour had not yet arrived for him to die; nor was he mistaken.

His impetuous onset could not be resisted by a man unfortified with the belief that he had acted justly; and Mahommed the grazier was soon struck to the ground, and left rolling in the dust in the agonies of death.

“There’s one less av ’em, anyhow!” exclaimed Sailor Bill, as he saw Jim’s master cease to exist. “I wish he had brought brother Jim and Master Terence here afore he died. I wonder what he has done wi’ ’em?”

“We should learn, if possible,” answered Harry, “and before we get any farther away from them. Suppose we speak to the Moor about them? He may be able to get possession of them for us.”

At Harry’s request, the Krooman proceeded to make the desired communication; but was prevented by Rias Mourad, who peremptorily ordered the slaves into their places, for the purpose of continuing the journey which the tragic incident had interrupted.

After cautioning Bo Muzem to beware of the followers of Mahommed, who now lay dead at his feet, the Moor, placing himself at the head of his kafila, moved off in the direction of Mogador.

Chapter Eighty One.

The Jews’ Leap.

The road followed by Rais Mourad on the day after leaving Santa Cruz was through a country of very uneven surface.

Part of the time the kafila would be traversing a narrow valley by the seashore, and in the next hour following a zigzag path up the side of some precipitous mountain.

In such places the animals would have to proceed in single file, while the Moor kept constantly cautioning his slaves against falling from the backs of their horses.

While stopping for an hour at noon for the animals to be rested, the Krooman turned over a flat stone, and underneath it discovered a large scorpion.

After making a hole in the sand about six inches deep, and five or six in diameter, he “chucked” the reptile into it.

He then went in search of a few more scorpions to keep the prisoner company. Under nearly every stone turned over, one or more of these reptiles were found; all of which the Krooman cast into the hole where he had placed the first.

When he had secured about a dozen within the walls of a prison from which they could not escape, he began teasing them with a stick.

Enraged at this treatment, the reptiles commenced a mortal combat among themselves, a spectacle which was witnessed by the white slaves with about the same interest as that between the two Arabs in the morning. In other words, they did not care who got the worst of it.

A battle between two scorpions would commence with much active skirmishing on both sides, each seeking to fasten its claws on the other.

Whenever one of the reptiles succeeded in getting a fair grip, its adversary would exhibit every disposition to surrender, apparently begging for its life. But all to no purpose, as no quarter would be given.

The champion would inflict the fatal sting; and the unfortunate individual receiving it would expire upon the instant.

After all the scorpions had been killed, except one, the Krooman himself finished the survivor with a blow of his stick.

When rebuked by Harry, for what the young Englishman regarded as an act of wanton cruelty, he answered that “it was the duty of every man to kill scorpions.”

In the afternoon the kafila reached a place called the Jews’ Leap. It was a narrow path along the side of a mountain, the base of which was washed by the sea.

The path was about half a mile long and not more than four or five feet broad. The right-hand side was bounded by a wall of rocks, in some places perpendicular and rising to a height of several hundred feet.

On the left-hand side was the Atlantic Ocean, about four hundred feet below the level of the path.

There was no hope for any one who should fall from this path—no hope but heaven.

Not a bush, tree, or any obstacle was seen to offer the slightest resistance to the downward course of a falling body.

The Krooman had travelled this track before, and therefore knew it. He informed his companions that no one ever ventured on the path in wet weather; that it was at all times considered dangerous; but that as it saved a tiresome journey of seven miles around the mountain, it was generally taken in dry seasons. He further told them that the name of the “Jews’ Leap”, was given to the precipice from a number of Jews having once been forced over it.

It was in the night-time. They had met a numerous body of Moors coming in the opposite direction. Neither party could turn back; a conflict arose, and several on both sides were hurled over the precipice into the sea.

On this occasion as many Moors as Jews had been thrown from the path; but it had pleased the former to give the spot the name of the “Jews’ Leap”, which it still retains.

Before venturing upon this dangerous road, Rais Mourad was careful to ascertain that no one was coming from the opposite direction.

After shouting at the top of his voice, and getting no reply, he led the way along the ledge, bidding his followers to trust more to their animals than to themselves.

As the white slaves entered on the pass, two Moors were left behind to come after them, as a guard. When all had proceeded a short distance along the ledge, the horse ridden by Harry Blount became frightened. It was a young animal; and having been reared upon the plains of the desert, was unused to mountain roads.

While the other horses were walking along very cautiously, Harry’s steed suddenly stopped, and refused to go any farther.

In such a place a rider has good cause to be alarmed at any eccentric behaviour in the animal he bestrides; and Harry was just preparing to dismount, when his horse commenced making a retrograde movement, as if determined to turn round and go back.

The young Englishman was behind his companions, and closely followed by one of the Moors. The latter becoming alarmed for his own safety, struck the refractory horse a blow with his musket in order to force it on.

In an instant the hind legs of the foolish animal dropped over the edge of the precipice, while its body with the weight of its rider clinging to its neck, was about evenly balanced on the brink.

The horse made a violent struggle to avoid going over. With its nose and forefeet laid close along the path, it vainly strove to regain the position from which it had so imprudently parted.

At this moment its rider determined to make a desperate exertion for the saving of his life.

Seizing the animal by the ears, and drawing himself up, he placed one foot on the brink of the precipice; and then sprang clear over the horse’s head, just as the creature relinquished its hold.

In another instant the unfortunate quadruped was precipitated into the sea, its body striking the water with a dull plunge, as if the life had already gone out of it.

The remainder of the ledge was traversed without any difficulty; and after all had got safely over, Harry’s companions were loud in congratulating him upon his narrow escape.

The youth remained silent.

His soul was too full of gratitude to God to take any heed of the words of man.

Chapter Eighty Two.

Conclusion.

On the evening of the second day after passing the Jews’ Leap, Rais Mourad, with his followers, reached the city of Mogador, but too late to enter its gates, which were closed for that day.

For a great part of the night, Harry, Colin, and Sailor Bill were unable to sleep.

They were kept awake by the memory of the sufferings they had endured in the desert, but more by the anticipation of liberty, which they believed to be now near.

They arose with the sun, impatient to enter the city and learn what was to be their fate; but Rais Mourad, knowing that no business could be done until three or four hours later, would not permit them to pass inside the gate.

For three hours they waited with the greatest impatience. So much had their minds become excited with the prospect of getting free that this delay began to bring about the opposite extreme of despair, when they were again elated at the sight of Rais Mourad returning from the town.

Giving the command to his followers, he led the way through the great city gate.

After passing along several narrow streets, on turning a corner our adventurers saw, waving over the roof of one of the houses, a flag that filled their souls with joy inexpressible. It was the flag of Old England!

It indicated the residence of the English consul. On seeing it, all three gave forth a loud simultaneous cheer, and hastened forward in the midst of a crowd of Moorish men, women and children that had collected around them.

Rais Mourad knocked at the gate of the Consulate, which was instantly opened, and the white slaves were ushered into the court-yard. At the same instant two individuals came running forth from the house. They were Terence and Jim!

A fine-looking man, about fifty years of age, now stepped forward; and taking Harry and Colin by the hand, congratulated them on the certainty of soon recovering their liberty.

The presence of Terence and Jim in the Consulate at Mogador was soon explained. The Arab grazier, after buying them, had started immediately for Swearah taking the two along with him. On bringing them to the English consul he received the amount of their redemption, and they were at once set free. At the same time he had given his promise to purchase the other three white slaves and bring them to Mogador.

The consul made no hesitation in paying the price that had been promised for Harry, Colin and Bill; but he did not consider himself justified in expending the money of his Government in the redemption of the Krooman, who was not an English subject.

The poor fellow, on hearing this, was overwhelmed with despair at the prospect of being restored to a life of perpetual slavery.

His old companions in misfortune could not remain tranquil spectators of his grief. They promised he should be free. Each of the middies had wealthy friends at home on whom he could draw for money; and they were in hopes that some English merchant in Mogador would advance the amount.

They were not disappointed. The very next day the Krooman’s difficulty was settled to his satisfaction.

The consul having mentioned his case to several foreign merchants, a subscription list was opened; and the cash necessary to the purchase of his freedom was easily procured.

The three mids were furnished with plenty of everything they required; and only awaited the arrival of some English ship to carry them back to the shores of their native land.

They had not long to wait; for shortly after, the tall masts of a British man-of-war threw their shadows athwart the waters of Mogador Bay.

The middies were once more installed in quarters that befitted them; while Sailor Bill and his brother, as well as their Krooman comrade, found a welcome in the forecastle of the ship.

All three of these young officers afterwards rose to rank and distinction in the naval service of their country. It was their good fortune often afterwards to come in contact with each other, and talk laughingly of that terrible time, no longer viewed with dread or aversion, when they were serving their apprenticeship as Boy Slaves in the Saara.

The End.

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