THE DANCE INTERRUPTED.
Leaving the midshipmen to their mirth, which, however, was not of very
long duration, we must follow Sailor Bill and the runaway camel.
In reality the maherry had made off with him, though for what reason the
sailor could not divine. He only knew that it was going at the rate of
nine or ten knots an hour, and going its own way; for instead of keeping
to the line of the coast,--the direction he would have wished it to
take,--it had suddenly turned tail upon the sea, and headed towards the
interior of the country.
Its rider had already discovered that he had not the slightest control
over it. He had tugged upon the hair halter and shouted "Avast!" until
both his arms and tongue were tired. All to no purpose. The camel
scorned his commands, lent a deaf ear to his entreaties, and paid not
the slightest heed to his attempt to pull up, except to push on in the
opposite direction, with its snout elevated in the air and its long
ungainly neck stretched forward in the most determined and provoking
fashion.
There was not much force in the muscular efforts made to check it. It
was just as much as its rider could do to balance himself on its hump,
which, of course, he had to do Arab-fashion, sitting _upon_ the saddle
as on a chair, with his feet resting upon the back of the animal's neck.
It was this position that rendered his seat so insecure, but no other
could have been adopted in the saddle of a maherry, and the sailor was
compelled to keep it as well as he could.
At the time the animal first started off, it had not gone at so rapid a
pace but that he might have slipped down upon the soft sand without much
danger of being injured. This for an instant he had thought of doing;
but knowing that while "unhorsing" himself the camel might escape, he
had voluntarily remained on its back, in the hope of being able to pull
the animal up.
On becoming persuaded that this would be impossible, and that the
maherry had actually made off with him, it was too late to dismount
without danger. The camel was now shambling along so swiftly that he
could not slip down without submitting himself to a fall. It would be no
longer a tumble upon soft sand, for the runaway had suddenly swerved
into a deep gorge, the bottom of which was thickly strewed with boulders
of rock, and through these the maherry was making way with the speed of
a fast-trotting horse.
Had its rider attempted to abandon his high perch upon the hump, his
chances would have been good for getting dashed against one of the big
boulders, or trodden under the huge hoofs of the maherry itself.
Fully alive to this danger, Old Bill no more thought of throwing himself
to the ground; but on the contrary, held on to the hump with all the
tenacity that lay in his well-tarred digits.
He had continued to shout for some time after parting with his
companions; but as this availed nothing, he at length desisted, and was
now riding the rest of his race in silence.
When was it to terminate? Whither was the camel conducting him? These
were the questions that now came before his mind.
He thought of an answer, and it filled him with apprehension. The animal
was evidently in eager haste. It was snuffing the wind in its progress
forward; something ahead seemed to be attracting it. What could this
something be but its home, the tent from which it had strayed, the
dwelling of its owner? And who could that owner be but one of those
cruel denizens of the desert they had been taking such pains to avoid?
The sailor was allowed but little time for conjectures; for almost on
the instant of his shaping this, the very first one, the maherry shot
suddenly round the hip of a hill, bringing him in full view of a
spectacle that realized it.
A small valley, or stretch of level ground enclosed by surrounding
ridges, lay before him; its gray, sandy surface interspersed by a few
patches of darker color, which the moon, shining brightly from a blue
sky, disclosed to be tufts of tussock-grass and mimosa bushes.
These, however, did not occupy the attention of the involuntary visitor
to that secluded spot; but something else that appeared in their
midst,--something that proclaimed the presence of human beings.
Near the centre of the little valley half a dozen dark objects stood up
several feet above the level of the ground. Their size, shape, and color
proclaimed their character. They were tents,--the tents of a Bedouin
encampment. The old man-o'-war's-man had never seen such before; but
there was no mistaking them for anything else,--even going as he was at
a speed that prevented him from having a very clear view of them.
In a few seconds, however, he was near enough to distinguish something
more than the tents. They stood in a sort of circle of about twenty
yards in diameter, and within this could be seen the forms of men,
women, and children. Around were animals of different sorts,--horses,
camels, sheep, goats, and dogs, grouped according to their kind, with
the exception of the dogs, which appeared to be straying everywhere.
This varied tableau was distinctly visible under the light of a full,
mellow moon.
There were voices,--shouting and singing. There was music, made upon
some rude instrument. The human forms,--both of men and women,--were in
motion, circling and springing about. The sailor saw they were dancing.
He heard, and saw, all this in a score of seconds, as the maherry
hurried him forward into their midst. The encampment was close to the
bottom of the hill round which the camel had carried him. He had at
length made up his mind to dismount _coute que coute_; but there was no
time. Before he could make a movement to fling himself from the
shoulders of the animal, he saw that he was discovered. A cry coming
from the tents admonished him of this fact. It was too late to attempt a
retreat, and, in a state of desponding stupor, he stuck to the saddle.
Not much longer. The camel, with a snorting scream, responding to the
call of its fellows, rushed on into the encampment,--right into the very
circle of the dancers; and there amidst the shouts of men, the screeches
of women, the yelling of children, the neighing of horses, the bleating
of sheep and goats, and the barking of a score or two of cur dogs,--the
animal stopped, with such abrupt suddenness that its rider, after
performing a somersault through the air, came down on all-fours, in
front of its projecting snout!
In such fashion was Sailor Bill introduced to the Arab encampment.