SOLD INTO SLAVERY.
The party were taken to a rear apartment of the residency and placed
under strong guard. During the remainder of that night no one slept, of
course, nor did they hold much conversation, for all instinctively
avoided a subject which could only add to their wretchedness.
Slavery among the Somalis was a fate worse than death. It was a living
death indeed, for hope of escape there was none. Far better if Makar had
ordered them to be shot at daybreak.
Guy spoke hopefully to Melton of the situation, counting somewhat on the
claim he had on Makar; but Melton seemed to think that the Arab had
ignored the affair, and would not interfere with Guy's fate.
All too soon gray dawn came stealing into the residency, revealing the
haggard faces of the captives, and with it came a summons from Makar to
prepare for the journey. Food was brought and partaken of with some
relish, for, under even the most distressing circumstances, men seem
able to eat. Closely watched, they were led into the open air, and
halted for a brief space in the court.
The sun was not up yet, and the blue waters of the gulf stretched afar
until lost in the pale mist. In the harbor lay the two steamers, but the
British flag no longer floated over their decks.
Finally they were led through a curious rabble of Arabs and Somalis to
the outskirts of the town, where the caravan was in process of
formation. It was no ordinary caravan. There were no bales of goods
lying about, no camels laden down with burdens, but surrounded by many
of the population drawn hither by curiosity were about fifty camels with
simple trappings, and a group of Somalis and Arabs all heavily armed,
the Arabs with rifles, the natives with long spears.
Simultaneously with the arrival of the captives, Makar made his
appearance with an armed escort and proceeded to hold a close
conversation with the two Arabs who seemed to be the leaders of the
caravan. He spoke earnestly for quite a while, making many gestures, and
pointing from time to time at the prisoners. Then he turned away, and
instantly all was excitement.
The Arabs and Somalis quickly pulled themselves upon their camels, and
with the aid of the guards the Englishmen were mounted in the same way,
each man being hoisted up beside an Arab or a Somali.
No resistance was made. The Hindoo soldiers were in a state of deep
dejection, and poor Sir Arthur seemed hardly to realize his position.
The caravan was now ready to start. At the last minute Makar Makalo
passed carelessly by Guy and whispered, "Keep good heart. Makar no
forget." Then he vanished in the crowd, and, with a loud cheer to speed
them on their way, the line of camels filed at a slow trot over the
sandy plain in a southerly direction.
Guy turned his head for a last look at Zaila and the harbor, now
beginning to glimmer in the first rays of the sun, and then a stretch of
sand-hills hid the town from view.
Little did he realize that which he must pass through before he saw the
coast again.
From the ruined fortifications of the town an unseen observer watched
the departure of the caravan. It was Manuel Torres. The crafty
Portuguese was well pleased to see the hated Englishmen speeding away to
their doom.
He was a cunning knave, and had laid his plans well. Perhaps he feared
the stability of the new government. If the English came into possession
of Zaila again, he could invent some clever tale to disprove his
connection with the Arab revolt; and who could bear witness against him?
None, indeed, for the lips of those who alone knew his guilt would be
hopelessly sealed. Africa never gives up her slaves.
To the wretched captives that day's journey over the scorching desert
was a fearful experience. Nothing is more painful to the novice than
riding camel-back, and when at last a halt was made at sunset every man
was aching from head to foot.
The heat, too, had been fearful, though the Arabs had provided them with
big sun helmets before starting. No intercourse was permitted. The
captives were kept rigorously apart. But little sleep was allowed. The
caravan started again before dawn, and, as before, traveled rapidly and
steadily until sundown.
At the end of the second day they had become in a measure accustomed to
the motion of the camels, and no longer suffered so much. Yet in all
this time no words had been exchanged. Each man was kept apart. The Arab
with whom Guy rode could speak some English, and from him he learned
that the chief object of the caravan was to carry to Rao Khan the news
of the capture of Zaila. Further information the Arab refused to give.
The caravan comprised a dozen Arabs and thirty or forty Somalis of the
Galla country. It was to these crafty savages that the captives
belonged. The Somalis had assisted Makar in the revolt, and these slaves
were their reward. Their chief, who accompanied the caravan, was none
other than Guy's vindictive enemy, Oko Sam.
Late in the afternoon of the fifth day the caravan came to a sudden
halt. In the distance were visible green hills and rolling plains
covered with verdure. The desert seemed to have ended. It was evident
that something of importance was about to happen.
All dismounted, and while the Arabs and Somalis entered into an excited
conversation, the captives were for the first time allowed to converse.
Their hopeless situation was too well understood for discussion. Strange
to say, Sir Arthur was the only one who had not abandoned hope.
"The government will save us," he repeated gloomily. "They will send an
army into the interior."
No one ventured to dispute this assertion. They talked in low tones of
their probable destination, and regarded with some uneasiness the
conference going on among the Arabs, which had now assumed a more
excitable phase.
"They are quarreling over something," said Guy. "Why do you suppose they
have stopped here?"
"I don't know," replied Melton, "unless they intend to separate, the
Arabs going on to Harar, the Somalis to their own country, which lies to
the south of Harar."
Melton's theory was very plausible, but before anyone could reply the
conference terminated suddenly, and the Arabs, drawing apart, came
quickly up to the captives, and, laying hold of Sir Arthur and the
colonel, led them over to the Somalis.
This was repeated with Momba, Captain Waller, and the Hindoo soldiers,
but, to their surprise, Guy and Melton were ordered to remain where they
were.
Foremost among the Somalis stood Oko Sam, his leopard skin dangling
about his loins, and a fiendish expression on his face.
He advanced a step or two, talking fiercely, and pointing with his spear
to Guy and Melton. The Arab leader strode out toward him, and cried in a
loud voice, "Makar has ordered it. The two white men must go to Harar."
Scarce had the words left his lips when the Somali chief poised his
spear and hurled it forward with such force and accuracy of aim that it
passed through the Arab's body and the point came out at the back. With
a cry he dropped on the sand.
A second of terrible suspense followed, and then snatching another spear
from one of his followers, the maddened Somali leaped furiously at Guy,
who unfortunately was standing directly in his path.