The Boy Slaves

CHAPTER LXIV.

THE RIVAL WRECKERS

Early next morning the kafila was en route for the seashore, which was discovered not far distant. On coming near a douar of seven tents was seen standing upon the beach: and several men stepped forward to receive them.

The usual salutations were exchanged, and the new comers began to look about them. Several pieces of timber lying along the shore gave evidence that their conjecture, as to a wreck having taken place, had been a correct one.

"There is but one God, and He is kind to us all," said the old sheik; "He casts the ships of unbelievers on our shores, and we have come to claim a share of His favors."

"You are welcome to all you can justly claim," answered a tall man, who appeared to be the leader of the party of wreckers. "Mahomet is the prophet of Him who sends favors to all, both good and bad. If he has sent anything for you, look along the sea-beach and find it."

On this invitation the camels of the kafila were unloaded, and the tents pitched. The new-comers then set about searching for the débris of the wrecked vessel.

They discovered only some spars, and other pieces of ship-timbers, which were of no value to either party.

A consultation now took place between the old sheik and his followers. They were unanimous in the belief that a sunken ship was near them, and that they had only to watch the rival wreckers, and learn where she was submerged.

Desisting from their search, they resolved to keep a lookout.

When this determination became known to the other party, its chief, after conferring with his companions, came forward, and, announcing himself as the representative of his people, proposed a conference.

"I am Sidi Hamet," said he, "and the others you see here are my friends and relatives. We are all members of the same family, and faithful followers of the Prophet. God is great, and has been kind to us. He has sent us a prize. We are about to gather the gifts of His mercy. Go your way, and leave us in peace."

"I am Rais Abdallah Yezzed," answered the old sheik, "and neither my companions nor myself are so bad but that we, too, may be numbered among those who are entitled to God's favor, when it pleases Him to cast on our shores the ships of the infidel."

In rejoinder Sidi Hamet entered upon a long harangue; in which he informed the old sheik that in the event of a vessel having gone to pieces, and the coast having been strown with merchandise, each party would have been entitled to all it could gather; but unfortunately for both, those pleasant circumstances did not now exist; although it was true, that the hulk of a vessel, containing a cargo that could not wash ashore was lying under water near by. They had discovered it, and therefore laid claim to all that it contained.

Sidi Hamet's party was a strong one, consisting of seventeen men; and therefore could afford to be communicative without the least danger of being disturbed in their plans and prospects.

They acknowledged that they had been working ten days in clearing the cargo out of the sunken vessel, and that their work was not yet half done – the goods being very difficult to get at.

The old sheik inquired of what the cargo consisted; but could obtain no satisfactory answer.

Here was a mystery. Seventeen men had been fourteen days unloading the hulk of a wrecked ship, and yet no articles of merchandise were to be seen near the spot!

A few casks, some pieces of old sail, with a number of cooking utensils that had belonged to a ship's galley, lay upon the beach; but these could not be regarded as forming any portion of the cargo of a ship.

The old sheik and his followers were in a quandary.

They had often heard of boxes full of money having been obtained from wrecked ships.

Sailors cast away upon their coast had been known to bury such commodities, and afterwards under torture to reveal the spot where the interment had been made.

Had this vessel, on which the wreckers were engaged, been freighted with money, and had the boxes been buried as soon as brought ashore?

It was possible, thought the new comers. They must wait and learn; and if there was any means by which they could claim a share in the good fortune of those who had first discovered the wreck, those means must be adopted.

The original discoverers were too impatient to stay proceedings till their departure; and feeling secure in the superiority of numbers, they recommenced their task of discharging the submerged hulk.

They advanced to the water's edge, taking along with them a long rope that had been found attached to the spars. At one end of this rope they had made a running noose, which was made fast to a man, who swam out with it to the distance of about a hundred yards.

The swimmer then dived out of sight. He had gone below to visit the wreck, and attach the rope to a portion of the cargo.

A minute after his head was seen above the surface, and a shout was sent forth. Some of his companions on the beach now commenced hauling in the rope, the other end of which had been left in their hands.

When the noose was pulled ashore, it was found to embrace a large block of sandstone, weighing about twenty-five or thirty pounds!

The Krooman had already informed Harry Blount and his companions of something he had learnt from the conversation of the wreckers; and the three mids had been watching with considerable interest the movements of the diver and his assistants.

When the block of sandstone was dragged up on the beach, they stared at each other with expressions of profound astonishment.

No wonder: the wreckers were employed in clearing the ballast out of a sunken ship!

What could be their object? Our adventurers could not guess. Nor, indeed, could the wreckers themselves have given a good reason for undergoing such an amount of ludicrous labor.

Why they had not told the old sheik what sort of cargo they were saving from the wreck, was because they had no certain knowledge of its value, or what in reality it was they were taking so much time and trouble to get safely ashore.

As they believed that the white slaves must have a perfect knowledge of the subject upon which they were themselves so ignorant, they closely scanned the countenances of the latter, as the block of ballast was drawn out upon the dry sand.

They were rewarded for their scrutiny.

The surprise exhibited by Sailor Bill and the three mids confirmed the wreckers in their belief that they were saving something of grand value; for, in fact, had the block of sandstone been a monstrous nugget of gold, the boy slaves could not have been more astonished at beholding it.

Their behavior increased the ardor of the salvors in the pursuit in which they were engaged, along with the envy of the rival party, who, by the laws of the Saäran coast, were not allowed to participate in their toil.

The Krooman now endeavored to undeceive his master as to the value of the "salvage," – telling him that what their rivals were taking out of the sunken ship was nothing but worthless stone.

But his statement was met with a smile of incredulity. Those engaged in getting the ballast ashore regarded the Krooman's statements with equal contempt. He was either a liar or a fool, and therefore unworthy of the least attention. With this reflection they went on with their work.

After some time spent in reconsidering the subject, the old sheik called the Krooman aside; and when out of hearing of the wreckers, asked him to give an explanation of the real nature of what he himself persisted in calling the "cargo" of the wreck, – as well as a true statement of its value.

The slave did as he was desired; but the old sheik only shook his head, once more declaring his incredulity.

He had never heard of a ship that did not carry a cargo of something valuable. He thought that no men would be so stupid and foolish as to go from one country to another in ships loaded only with worthless stones.

As nothing else in the shape of cargo was found aboard the wreck, the stones must be of some value. So argued the Arab.

While the Krooman was trying to explain the real purpose for which the stones had been placed in the hold of the vessel, one of the wreckers came up and informed him that a white man was in one of their tents, that he was ill, and wished to see and converse with the infidel slaves, of whose arrival he had just heard.

The Krooman communicated this piece of intelligence to our adventurers; and the tent that contained the sick white man having been pointed out to them, they at once started towards it, expecting to see some unfortunate countryman, who, like themselves, had been cast away on the inhospitable shores of the Saära.

CHAPTER LXV.

ANOTHER WHITE SLAVE

On entering within the tent to which they had been directed, they found, lying upon the ground, a man about forty years of age. Although he appeared a mere skeleton, consisting of little more than skin and bones, he did not present the general aspect of a man suffering from ill health; nor yet would he have passed for a white man anywhere out of Africa.

"You are the first English people I've seen for over thirty years," said he, as they entered the tent: "for I can tell by your looks that every one of you are English. You are my countrymen. I was white once myself; and you will be as black as I am when you have been sun-scorched here for forty-three years, as I have been."

"What!" exclaimed Terence; "have you been a slave in the Saära so long as that? If so, God help us! What hope is there of our ever getting free?"

The young Irishman spoke in a tone of despair.

"Very little chance of your ever seeing home again, my lad," answered the invalid; "but I have a chance now, if you and your comrades don't spoil it. For God's sake don't tell these Arabs that they are the fools they are for making salvage of the ballast. If you do, they'll be sure to make an end of me. It's all my doing. I've made them believe the stones are valuable, so that they may take them to some place where I can escape. It is the only chance I have had for years, – don't destroy it, as you value the life of a fellow-countryman."

From further conversation with the man, our adventurers learned that he had been shipwrecked on the coast many years before, and had ever since been trying to get transported to some place where he might be ransomed. He declared that he had been backward and forward across the desert forty or fifty times; and that he had belonged to not less than fifty masters!

"I have only been with these fellows a few weeks," said he, "and fortunately when we came this way we were able to tell where the sunken ship was by seeing her foremast then sticking out of the water. The vessel was in ballast; and the crew probably put out to sea in their boats, without being discovered. It was the first ship my masters had ever heard of without a cargo; and they would not believe but what the stones were such, and must be worth something – else why should they be carried about the world in a ship. I told them it was a kind of stone from which gold was obtained; but that it must be taken to some place where there was plenty of coal or wood, before the gold could be melted out of it, and then intrusted to white men who understood the art of extracting the precious metal from the rocks.

"They believe all this; for they can see shining particles in the sandstone which they think is really gold, or something that can be converted into it. For four days they forced me to toil, at diving and assisting them; but that didn't suit my purpose; and I've at length succeeded in making them believe that I am not able to work any longer."

"But do you really think," asked Harry Blount, "that they will carry the ballast any distance without learning its real value?"

"Yes; I did think that they might take it to Mogador, and that they would let me go along with them."

"But some one will meet them, and tell them that their lading is worthless?" suggested Colin.

"No, I think that fear of losing their valuable freight will keep them from letting any one know what they've got. They are hiding it in the sand now, as fast as they get it ashore, for fear some party stronger than themselves should come along and take it away from them. I intend to tell them after they have started on their journey, not to let any one see or know what they have, until they are safe within the walls of Mogador, where they will be under the protection of the governor. They have promised to take me along with them, and if I once get within sight of a seaport, not all the Arabs in Africa will hinder me from recovering my liberty."

While the pretended invalid was talking to them, Sailor Bill had been watching him, apparently with eager interest.

"Beg pardon for 'aving a small taste o' difference wid you in the mather ov your age," said the sailor, as soon as the man had ceased speaking; "but I'll never belave you've been about 'ere for forty years. It can't be so long as that."

The two men, after staring at each other for a moment, uttered the words "Jim!" "Bill!" and then, springing forward, each grasped the hand of the other. Two brothers had met!

The three mids remembered that Bill had told them of a brother, who, when last heard from, was a slave somewhere in the Saära, and they needed no explanation of the scene now presented to them.

The two brothers were left alone; and after the others had gone out of the tent they returned to the Krooman – who had just succeeded in convincing the sheik, that the stones being fished out of the sunken ship were, at that time and place, of no value whatever.

All attempts on the part of the old sheik to convince the wreckers, as he had been convinced himself, proved fruitless.

The arguments he used to them were repeated to the sailor, Bill's brother; and by him were easily upset with a few words.

"Of course they will try to make you believe the cargo is no good," retorted Jim. "They wish you to leave it, so that they can have it all to themselves. Does not common sense tell you that they are liars?"

This was conclusive; and the wreckers continued their toil, extracting stone after stone out of the hold of the submerged ship.

Sailor Bill, at his brother's request, then summoned his companions to the tent.

"Which of you have been trying to do me an injury?" inquired Jim. "I told you not to say that the stones were worthless."

It was explained to him how the Krooman had been enlightening his master.

"Call the Krooman," said Jim, "and I'll enlighten him. If these Arabs find out that they have been deceived, I shall be killed, and your master – the old sheik – will certainly lose all his property. Tell him to come here also. I must talk to him. Something must be done immediately, or I shall be killed."

The Krooman and the old sheik were conducted into the tent; and Jim talked to them in the Arabic language.

"Leave my masters alone to their folly," said he to the sheik; "and they will be so busy that you can depart in peace. If not, and you convince them that they have been deceived, they will rob you of all you have got. You have already said enough to excite their suspicions, and they will in time learn that I have been humbugging them. My life is no longer safe in their company. You buy me, then; and let us all take our departure immediately."

"Are the stones in the wreck really worth nothing?" asked the sheik.

"No more than the sand on the shore; and when they find out that such is the case, some one will be robbed. They have come to the seacoast to seek wealth, and they will have it one way or the other. They are a tribe of bad men. Buy me, and leave them to continue the task they have so ignorantly undertaken."

"You are not well," replied the sheik; "and if I buy you, you cannot walk."

"Let me ride on a camel until I get out of sight of these my masters," answered Jim; "you will then see whether I can walk or not. They will sell me cheap; for they think I am done up. But I am not; I was only weary of diving after worthless stones."

The old sheik promised to follow Jim's advice; and ordered his companions to prepare immediately for the continuance of their journey.

Sidi Hamet was called, and asked by Rais Abdallah if he would sell some of the stones they had saved from the infidel ship.

"Bismillah! No!" exclaimed the wrecker. "You say they are of no value, and I do not wish to cheat any true believer of the prophet."

"Will you give me some of them, then?"

"No! Allah forbid that Sidi Hamet should ever make a worthless present to a friend!"

"I am a merchant," rejoined the old sheik; "and wish to do business. Have you any slaves, or other property you can sell me?"

"Yes! You see that Christian dog," replied the wrecker, pointing to Sailor Bill's brother; "I will sell him."

"You have promised to take me to Swearah," interrupted Jim. "Do not sell me, master; I think I shall get well some time, and will then work for you as hard as I can."

Sidi Hamet cast upon his infidel slave a look of contempt at this allusion to his illness; but Jim's remark, and the angry glance, were both unheeded by the Arab sheik.

The slave's pretended wishes not to be sold were disregarded; and for the consideration of an old shirt and a small camel-hair tent, he became the property of Rais Abdallah Yezzed.

The old sheik and his followers then betook themselves to their camels; and the kafila was hurried up the dry bed of the river, – leaving the wreckers to continue their toilsome and unprofitable task.

CHAPTER LXVI.

SAILOR BILL'S BROTHER

After leaving the coast, the travellers kept at a quick pace, and Sailor Bill and his brother had but little opportunity of holding converse together. When the douar had been pitched for the night, the old salt and the "young gentlemen," his companions, gathered around the man whose experience in the miseries of Saäran slavery so far exceeded their own.

"Now, Jim," began the old man-o'-war's-man, "you must spin us the yarn of all your cruising since you've been here. We've seen somethin' o' the elephant since we've been cast ashore, and that's not long. I don't wonder at you sayin' you 'ave been aboard this craft forty-three years."

"Yes, that is the correct time according to my reckoning," interrupted Jim; "but, Bill, you don't look much older than when I saw you last. How long ago was it?"

"About eleven years."

"Eleven years! I tell you that I've been here over forty."

"'Ow can that be?" asked Bill. "Daze it, man, you'll not be forty years old till the fourteenth o' the next month. You 'ave lost yer senses, an' in troth, it an't no wonder!"

"That is true, for there is nothing in the Saära to help a man keep his reckoning. There are no seasons; and every day is as like another as two seconds in the same minute. But surely I must have been here for more than eleven years."

"No," answered Bill, "ye 'ave no been here only a wee bit langer than tin; but afther all ye must 'ave suffered in that time, it is quare that ye should a know'd me at all, at all."

"I did not know you until you spoke," rejoined Jim "Then I couldn't doubt that it was you who stood before me, when I heard our father's broad Scotch, our mother's Irish brogue, and the talk of the cockneys amongst whom your earliest days were passed, all mingled together."

"You see, Master Colly," said Bill, turning to the young Scotchman. "My brother Jim has had the advantage of being twelve years younger than I; and when he was old enough to go to school, I was doing something to help kape 'im there, and for all that I believe he is plased to see me."

"Pleased to see you!" exclaimed Jim. "Of course I am."

"I'm sure av it," said Bill.

"Well, then, brother, go ahead, an' spin us your yarn."

"I have no one yarn to spin," replied Jim, "for a narrative of my adventures in the desert would consist of a thousand yarns, each giving a description of some severe suffering or disappointment. I can only tell you that it seems to me that I have passed many years in travelling through the sands of the Saära, years in cultivating barley on its borders, years in digging wells, and years in attending flocks of goats, sheep, and other animals. I have had many masters, – all bad, and some worse, – and I have had many cruel disappointments about regaining my liberty. I was once within a single day's journey of Mogador, and was then sold again and carried back into the very heart of the desert. I have attempted two or three times to escape; but was recaptured each time, and nearly killed for the unpardonable dishonesty of trying to rob my master of my own person. I have often been tempted to commit suicide; but a sort of womanly curiosity and stubbornness has prevented me. I wished to see how long Fortune would persecute me, and I was determined not to thwart her plans by putting myself beyond their reach. I did not like to give in, for any one who tries to escape from trouble by killing himself, shows that he has come off sadly worsted in the war of life."

"You are quite right," said Harry Blount; "but I hope that your hardest battles in that war are now over. Our masters have promised to carry us to some place where we may be ransomed by our countrymen, and you of course will be taken along with us."

"Do not flatter yourselves with that hope," said Jim. "I was amused with it for several years. Every master I have had gave me the same promise, and here I am yet. I did think when my late owners were saving the stones from the wreck, that I could get them to enter the walls of some seaport town, and that possibly they might take me along with them. But that hope has proved as delusive as all others I have entertained since shipwrecked on the shore of this accursed country. I believe there are a few who are fortunate enough to regain their liberty; but the majority of sailors cast away on the Saäran coast never have the good fortune to get away from it. They die under the hardships and ill-treatment to which they are exposed upon the desert – without leaving a trace of their existence any more than the dogs or camels belonging to their common masters.

"You have asked me to give an account of my life since I have been shipwrecked. I cannot do that; but I shall give you an easy rule by which you may know all about it. We will suppose you have all been three months in the Saära, and Bill here says that I have been here ten years; therefore I have experienced about forty times as long a period of slavery as one of yourselves. Now, multiply the sum total of your sufferings by forty, and you will have some idea of what I have undergone.