The next morning on resuming the journey Golah condescended to tell his
captives that they should reach a well or spring that afternoon, and
stay by it for two or three days.
This news was conveyed to Harry by the Krooman; and all were elated at
the prospect of rest, with a plentiful supply of water.
Harry had a long conversation with the Krooman as they were pursuing
their route. The latter expressed his surprise that the white captives
were so contented to go on in the course in which the sheik was
conducting them.
This was a subject about which Harry and his companions had given
themselves no concern; partly because they had no idea that Golah was
intending to make a very long journey, and partly because they supposed
his intentions, whatever they were, could not be changed by anything
they might propose.
The Krooman thought different. He told Harry that the route they were
following, if continued, would lead them far into the interior of the
country, probably to Timbuctoo; and that Golah should be entreated to
take them to some port on the coast, where they might be ransomed by an
English consul.
Harry perceived the truth of these suggestions; and, after having a
conversation with his companions, it was determined between them that
they should have a talk with Golah that very night.
The Krooman promised to act as interpreter, and to do all in his power
to favour their suit. He might persuade the sheik to change his
destination, by telling him that he would find a far better market in
taking them to some place where vessels arrive and depart, than by
carrying them into the interior of the country.
The man then added, speaking in a mysterious manner, that there was one
more subject on which he wished to give them warning. When pressed to
mention it, he appeared reluctant to do so.
He was at last prevailed upon to be more communicative; when he
proclaimed his opinion, that their companion, Colin, would never leave
the desert.
"Why is that?" asked Harry.
"Bom-bye he be kill. De sheik kill um."
Although partly surmising his reasons for having formed this opinion,
Harry urged him to further explain himself.
"Ef Golah see de moder ob de piccaninny gib dat lad one lilly fig, one
drop ob drink, he kill um, sartin-sure. I see, one, two, seb'ral more
see. Golah no fool. Bom-bye he see too, and kill um bof, de lad an' de
piccaninny moder."
Harry promised to warn his companion of the danger, and save him before
the suspicions of Golah should be aroused.
"No good, no good," said the Krooman.
In explanation of this assertion, Harry was told that, should the young
Scotchman refuse any favour from the woman, her wounded vanity would
change her liking to the most bitter hatred, and she would then contrive
to bring down upon him the anger of Golah, an anger that would certainly
be fatal to its victim.
"Then what must I do to save him?" asked Harry.
"Noting," answered the Krooman. "You noting can do. Ony bid him be
good man, and talk much, pray to God. Golah wife lub him, and he sure
muss die."
Harry informed the sailor and Terence of what the Krooman had told him;
and the three took counsel together.
"I believe as how the darkey be right," said Bill. "Of course, if the
swab Goliarh larns as 'ow one av 'is wives ha' taken a fancy to Master
Colly, 'twill be all up wi' the poor lad. He will be killed, and mayhap
eaten too, for that matter."
"Like enough," assented Terence. "And should he scorn her very
particular attentions, her resentment might be equally as dangerous as
Golah's. I fear poor Colin has drifted into trouble."
"What ye be afther sayin' about the woman," said Bill, "minds me o' a
little story I wunce heeard whin I was a boy. I read it in a book
called the Bible. It was about a young man, somethin' like Master
Colly, barrin' his name was Joseph. A potter's wife tuck a fancy to
him; but Joseph, bein' a dacent an' honest youngster, treated her wid
contimpt, an' came to great grief by doin' that same. You must 'ave
read that story, Master 'Arry," continued Bill, turning from Terence to
the young Englishman, and changing his style of pronunciation. "Did it
not 'appen summers in this part o' the world? Hif I remember rightly,
it did. I know 'twas summers in furrin parts."
"Yes," answered Harry, "that little affair did happen in this part of
the world, since it was in Africa; and our comrade has a fair prospect
of being more unfortunate than Joseph. In truth, I don't see how we
shall be able to assist him."
"There he is, about a hundred cable lengths astern," said Bill, looking
back. "And there's the old 'oman, too, lookin' sharp afther him, while
Colly is atin' the figs and drinkin' the camel's milk; and while I'm
dying for a dhrop of that same. Old Goliarh is no doubt proud wi' the
great care she's takin' of his child; but won't there be a row when he
larns summat more? Won't there, Master 'Arry?"
"There will, indeed," answered Harry. "Colin will soon be up with us,
and we must talk to him."
Harry was right, for Colin soon after overtook them, having been driven
up as usual by the negress, who seemed in great anger at the trouble he
was causing her.
"Colin," said Harry, when their companion and the child had joined them,
"you must keep the woman away from you. Her partiality for you has
already been noticed by others. The Krooman has just been telling us
that you will not live much longer; that Golah is neither blind nor
foolish; and that, on the slightest suspicion he has of the woman
showing you any favour, even to giving you a fig, he will kill you."
"But what can I do?" asked Colin. "If the woman should come to you and
offer you a handful of figs and a drink of milk, could you refuse them?"
"No, I certainly could not. I only wish such an alternative would
present itself; but you must manage in some way or other to keep away
from her. You must not linger behind, but remain all the time by us."
"If you knew," asked Colin, "that you could quench your thirst by
lagging a few paces behind, would you not do so?"
"That would be a strong temptation, and I should probably yield; but I
tell you that you are in danger."
Neither of Colin's companions could blame him. Suffering as he was,
from the ceaseless agony of hunger and thirst, any indiscretion, or even
crime, seemed justifiable, for the purpose of obtaining relief.
The day became hotter and hotter, until in the afternoon the sufferings
of the slaves grew almost unendurable. Sailor Bill appeared to be more
severely affected than any of his companions. He had been knocking
about the world for many long years injuring his constitution by
dissipation and exposure in many climes; and the siege that thirst and
hunger were now making to destroy his strength became each hour more
perceptible in its effect.
By the middle of the afternoon it was with the utmost difficulty he
could move along; and his tongue was so parched that in an attempt to
speak he wholly failed. His hands were stretched forth towards Colin;
who, since the warning he had received, had kept up along with the rest.
Colin understood the signal; and placed the boy on the old man's
shoulders. Bill wished to learn if the mother would reward him for
taking care of her child, as she had his predecessor in the office. To
carry out the experiment, he allowed himself to be left in the rear of
the caravan.
Golah's son and the other guard had noticed the old sailor's suffering
condition, and objected to his being encumbered with the child. They
pointed to Harry and Terence. But Bill was resolute in holding on to
his charge; and, cursing him for an unbelieving fool, they allowed him
to have his own way.
Not long after the mother of the child was seen to stop her camel, and
the three mids passed by her unnoticed. The old sailor hastened up as
fast as his weary limbs would allow, to receive the hoped-for reward.
But the poor fellow was doomed to a cruel disappointment.
When the woman perceived who had been entrusted with the carrying of her
child, she pronounced two or three phrases in a sharp angry tone.
Understanding them, the child dismounted from the sailor's back, and ran
with all speed towards her.
Bill's reward was a storm of invectives, accompanied by a shower of
blows with the knotted end of the halter. He strove to avoid the
punishment by increasing his speed; but the camel seemed to understand
the relative distance that should be maintained between its rider and
the sailor, so that the former might deliver, and the latter receive the
blows with the most painful effect. This position it kept until Bill
had got up to his companions; his naked shoulders bearing crimson
evidence of the woman's ability in the handling of a rope's end.
As she rode past Colin, who had again taken charge of the child, she
gave the young Scotchman a look that seemed to say, "You have betrayed
me!" and without waiting for a look in return, she passed on to join her
husband at the head of the caravan.
The black slaves appeared highly amused at the sailor's misfortunes.
The interest had aroused their expiring energies; and the journey was
pursued by them with more animation than before.
Bill's disappointment was not without some beneficial effect upon
himself. He was so much revived by the beating, that he soon after
recovered his tongue; and as he shuffled on alongside his companions,
they could hear him muttering curses, some in good English, some in bad,
some in a rich Irish brogue, and some in the broadest Scotch.