CHAPTER XXX.
THE PURSUERS NONPLUSSED
Not a second too soon had they succeeded in making good their entry into this subaqueous asylum. Scarce had their chins come in contact with the water, when the voices of men – accompanied by the baying of dogs, the snorting of maherries, and the neighing of horses – were heard within the gorge, from which they had just issued; and in a few minutes after a straggling crowd, composed of these various creatures, came rushing out of the ravine. Of men, afoot and on horseback, twenty or more were seen pouring forth; all, apparently, in hot haste, as if eager to be in at the death of some object pursued, – that could not possibly escape capture.
Once outside the jaws of the gully, the irregular cavalcade advanced scatteringly over the plain. Only for a short distance, however; for, as if by a common understanding rather than in obedience to any command, all came to a halt.
A silence followed this halt, – apparently proceeding from astonishment. It was general, – it might be said universal, – for even the animals appeared to partake of it! At all events, some seconds transpired during which the only sound heard was the sighing of the sea, and the only motion to be observed was the sinking and swelling of the waves.
The Saäran rovers on foot, – as well as those that were mounted, – their horses, dogs, and camels, as they stood upon that smooth plain, seemed to have been suddenly transformed into stone, and set like so many sphinxes in the sand.
In truth it was surprise that had so transfixed them, – the men, at least; and their well-trained animals were only acting in obedience to a habit taught them by their masters, who, in the pursuit of their predatory life, can cause these creatures to be both silent and still, whenever the occasion requires it.
For their surprise, – which this exhibition of it proved to be extreme, – the Sons of the Desert had sufficient reason. They had seen the three midshipmen on the crest of the sand-ridge; had even noted the peculiar garb that bedecked their bodies, – all this beyond doubt. Notwithstanding the haste with which they had entered on the pursuit, they had not continued it either in a reckless or improvident manner. Skilled in the ways of the wilderness, – cautious as cats, – they had continued the chase; those in the lead from time to time assuring themselves that the game was still before them. This they had done by glancing occasionally to the ground, where shoe-tracks in the soft sand – three sets of them – leading to and fro, were sufficient evidence that the three mids must have gone back to the embouchure of the ravine, and thither emerged upon the open sea-beach.
Where were they now?
Looking up the smooth strand as far as the eye could reach, and down it to a like distance, there was no place where a crab could have screened itself; and these Saäran wreckers, well acquainted with the coast, knew that in neither direction was there any other ravine or gully into which the fugitives could have retreated.
No wonder, then, that the pursuers wondered, even to speechlessness.
Their silence was of short duration, though it was succeeded only by cries expressing their great surprise, among which might have been distinguished their usual invocations to Allah and the Prophet. It was evident that a superstitious feeling had arisen in their minds, not without its usual accompaniment of fear; and although they no longer kept their places, the movement now observable among them was that they gathered closer together, and appeared to enter upon a grave consultation.
This was terminated by some of them once more proceeding to the embouchure of the ravine, and betaking themselves to a fresh scrutiny of the tracks made by the shoes of the midshipmen; while the rest sat silently upon their horses and maherries awaiting the result.
The footmarks of the three mids were still easily traceable – even on the ground already trampled by the Arabs, their horses, and maherries. The "cloots" of a camel would not have been more conspicuous in the mud of an English road, than were the shoe-prints of the three young seamen in the sands of the Saära. The Arab trackers had no difficulty in making them out; and in a few minutes had traced them from the mouth of the gorge, almost in a direct line to the sea. There, however, there was a breadth of wet sea-beach – where the springy sand instantly obliterated any foot-mark that might be made upon it – and there the tracts ended.
But why should they have extended farther? No one could have gone beyond that point, without either walking straight into the water, or keeping along the strip of sea beach, upwards or downwards.
The fugitives could not have escaped in either way – unless they had taken to the water, and committed suicide by drowning themselves! Up the coast, or down it, they would have been seen to a certainty.
Their pursuers, clustering around the place where the tracks terminated, were no wiser than ever. Some of them were ready to believe that drowning had been the fate of the castaways upon their coast, and so stated it to their companions. But they spoke only conjectures, and in tones that told them, like the rest, to be under the influence of some superstitious fear. Despite their confidence in the protection of their boasted Prophet, they felt a natural dread of that wilderness of waters, less known to them than the wilderness of sand.
Ere long they withdrew from its presence, and betook themselves back to their encampment, under a half belief that the three individuals seen and pursued had either drowned themselves in the great deep, or by some mysterious means known to these strange men of the sea, had escaped across its far-reaching waters!
CHAPTER XXXI.
A DOUBLE PREDICAMENT
Short time as their pursuers had stayed upon the strand, it seemed an age to the submerged midshipmen.
On first placing themselves in position, they had chosen a spot where, with their knees resting upon the bottom, they could just hold their chins above water. This would enable them to hold their ground without any great difficulty, and for some time they so maintained it.
Soon, however, they began to perceive that the water was rising around them, – a circumstance easily explained by the influx of the tide. The rise was slow and gradual: but, for all that, they saw that should they require to remain in their place of concealment for any length of time, drowning must be their inevitable destiny.
A means of avoiding this soon presented itself. Inside the line of breakers, the water shoaled gradually towards the shore. By advancing in this direction they could still keep to the same depth. This course they adopted – gliding cautiously forward upon their knees, whenever the tide admonished them to repeat the manoeuvre.
This state of affairs would have been satisfactory enough, but for a circumstance that, every moment, was making itself more apparent. At each move they were not only approaching nearer to their enemies, scattered along the strand; but as they receded from the line of the breakers, the water became comparatively tranquil, and its smooth surface, less confused by the masses of floating foam, was more likely to betray them to the spectators on the shore.
To avoid this catastrophe – which would have been fatal – they moved shoreward, only when it became absolutely necessary to do so, often permitting the tidal waves to sweep completely over the crown of their heads, and several times threaten suffocation.
Under circumstances so trying, so apparently hopeless, most lads – aye, most men – would have submitted to despair, and surrendered themselves to a fate apparently unavoidable. But with that true British pluck – combining the tenacity of the Scotch terrier, the English bulldog, and the Irish staghound – the three youthful representatives of the triple kingdom determined to hold on.
And they held on, with the waves washing against their cheeks – and at intervals quite over their heads – with the briny fluid rushing into their ears and up their nostrils, until one after another began to believe, that there would be no alternative between surrendering to the cruel sea, or to the not less cruel sons of the Saära.
As they were close together, they could hold council, – conversing all the time in something louder than a whisper. There was no risk of their being overheard. Though scarce a cable's length from the shore, the hoarse soughing of the surf would have drowned the sound of their voices, even if uttered in a much louder tone; but being skilled in the acoustics of the ocean, they exchanged their thoughts with due caution; and while encouraging one another to remain firm, they speculated freely upon the chances of escaping from their perilous predicament.
While thus occupied, a predicament of an equally perilous, and still more singular kind, was in store for them. They had been, hitherto advancing towards the water's edge, – in regular progression with the influx of the tide, – all the while upon their knees. This, as already stated, had enabled them to sustain themselves steadily, without showing anything more than three quarters of the head above the surface.
All at once, however, the water appeared to deepen; and by going upon their knees they could no longer surmount the waves, – even with their eyes. By moving on towards the beach, they might again get into shallow water; but just at this point the commotion caused by the breakers came to a termination, and the flakes of froth, with the surrounding spray of bubbles, here bursting, one after another, left the surface of the sea to its restored tranquillity. Anything beyond – a cork, or the tiniest waif of seaweed – could scarce fail to be seen from the strand, – though the latter was itself constantly receding as the tide flowed inward.
The submerged middies were now in a dilemma they had not dreamed of. By holding their ground, they could not fail to "go under." By advancing further, they would run the risk of being discovered to the enemy.
Their first movement was to get up from their knees, and raise their heads above water by standing in a crouched attitude on their feet. This they had done before, – more than once, – returning to the posture of supplication only when too tired to sustain themselves.
This they attempted again, and determined to continue it to the last moment, – in view of the danger of approaching nearer to the enemy.
To their consternation they now found it would no longer avail them. Scarce had they risen erect before discovering that even in this position they were immersed to the chin, and after plunging a pace or two forward, they were still sinking deeper. They could feel that their feet were not resting on firm bottom, but constantly going down.
"A quicksand!" was the apprehension that rushed simultaneously into the minds of all three!
Fortunately for them, the Arabs at that moment, yielding to their fatalist fears, had faced away from the shore; else the plunging and splashing made by them in their violent endeavors to escape from the quicksand, could not have failed to dissipate these superstitions, and cause their pursuers to complete the capture they had so childlessly relinquished.
As it chanced, the Saäran wreckers saw nothing of all this; and as the splashing sounds, which otherwise might have reached them, were drowned by the louder sough of the sea, they returned toward their encampment in a state of perplexity bordering upon bewilderment!
CHAPTER XXXII.
ONCE MORE THE MOCKING LAUGH
After a good deal of scrambling and struggling, our adventurers succeeded in getting clear of the quicksand, and planting their feet upon firmer bottom, – a little nearer to the water's edge. Though at this point more exposed than they wished to be, they concealed themselves as well as they could, holding their faces under the water up to the eyes.
Though believing that their enemies were gone for good, they dared not as yet wade out upon the beach. The retiring pursuers would naturally be looking back; and as the moon was still shining clearly as ever, they might be seen from a great distance.
They feel that they would not be safe in leaving their place of concealment until the horde had recrossed the ridge, and descended once more into the oasis that contained their encampment.
Making a rough calculation as to the time it would take for the return journey, – and allowing a considerable margin against the eventuality of any unforeseen delay, – the mids remained in their subaqueous retreat, without any material change of position.
When at length it appeared to them that the "coast was clear," they rose to their feet, and commenced wading towards the strand.
Though no longer believing themselves observed, they proceeded silently and with caution, – the only noise made among them being the chattering of their teeth, which were going like three complete sets of castanets.
This they could not help. The night breeze playing upon the saturated garments, – that clung coldly around their bodies, – chilled them to the very bones; and not only their teeth, but their knees knocked together, as they staggered towards the beach.
Just before reaching it, an incident arose that filled them with fresh forebodings. The strange beast that had threatened to intercept their retreat over the ridge, once more appeared before their eyes. It was either the same, or one of the same kind, – equally ugly, and to all appearance, equally determined to dispute their passage.
It was now patrolling the strand close by the water's edge, – going backwards and forwards, precisely as it had done along the saddle-shaped sand wreath, – all the while keeping its hideous face turned towards them. With the moon behind their backs, they had a better view of it than before; but this, though enabling them to perceive that it was some strange quadruped, did not in any way improve their opinion of it. They could see that it was covered with a coat of long shaggy hair, of a brindled brown color; and that from a pair of large orbs, set obliquely in its head, gleamed forth a fierce, sullen light.
How it had come there they knew not; but there it was. Judging from the experience of their former encounter with it they presumed it would again retreat at their approach; and, once more drawing their dirks, they advanced boldly towards it.
They were not deceived. Long before they were near, the uncouth creature turned tail; and, again giving utterance to its unearthly cry, scampered off towards the ravine, – in whose shadowy depths it soon disappeared from their view.
Supposing they had nothing further to fear, our adventurers stepped out upon the strand, and commenced consultation as to their future course.
To keep on down the coast and get as far as possible from the Arab encampment, – was the thought of all three; and as they were unanimous in this, scarce a moment was wasted in coming to a determination. Once resolved, they faced southward; and started off as briskly as their shivering frames and saturated garments would allow them.
There was not much to cheer them on their way, – only the thought that they had so adroitly extricated themselves from a dread danger. But even this proved only a fanciful consolation; for scarce had they made a score of steps along the strand, when they were brought to a sudden halt, by hearing a noise that appeared to proceed from the ravine behind them.
It was a slight noise, something like a snort, apparently made by some animal; and, for the moment, they supposed it to come from the ugly quadruped that, after saluting them, had retreated up the gorge.
On turning their eyes in that direction, they at once saw that they were mistaken. A quadruped had produced the noise; but one of a very different kind from the hairy brute with which they had parted. Just emerging from the shadow of the sand-hills, they perceived a huge creature, whose uncouth shape proclaimed it to be a camel.
The sight filled them with consternation. Not that it was a camel; but because, at the same time, they discovered that there was a man upon its back, who, brandishing a long weapon, was urging the animal towards them.
The three midshipmen made no effort to continue the journey thus unexpectedly interrupted. They saw that any attempt to escape from such a fast-going creature would be idle. Encumbered as they were with their wet garments, they could not have distanced a lame duck; and, resigning themselves to the chances of destiny, they stood awaiting the encounter.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
A CUNNING SHEIK
When the camel and its rider first loomed in sight, – indistinctly seen under the shadow of the sand dunes, – our adventurers had conceived a faint hope that it might be Sailor Bill.
It was possible, they thought, that the old man-o-war's-man, left unguarded in the camp, might have laid hands on the maherry that had made away with him, and pressed it into service to assist his escape.
The hope was entertained only for an instant. Bill had encountered no such golden opportunity; but was still a prisoner in the tent of the black sheik, surrounded by his shrewish tormentors.
It was the maherry, however, that was seen coming back, for as it came near the three middies recognized the creature whose intrusion upon their slumbers of the preceding night had been the means, perhaps, of saving their lives.
Instead of a Jack Tar now surmounting its high hunch, they saw a little wizen-faced individual with sharp angular features, and a skin of yellowish hue puckered like parchment. He appeared to be at least sixty years of age; while his costume, equipments, and above all, a certain authoritative bearing, bespoke him to be one of the head men of the horde.
Such in truth was he, – one of the two sheiks, – the old Arab to whom the straying camel belonged; and who was now mounted on his own maherry.
His presence on the strand at this, to our adventurers, most inopportune moment, requires explanation.
He had been on the beach before, along with the others; and had gone away with the rest. But instead of continuing on to the encampment, he had fallen behind in the ravine; where, under the cover of some rocks, and favored by the obscure light within the gorge, he had succeeded in giving his comrades the slip. There he had remained, – permitting the rest to recross the ridge, and return to the tents.
He had not taken these steps without an object. Less superstitious than his black brother sheik, he knew there must be some natural explanation of the disappearance of the three castaways; and he had determined to seek, and if possible, to discover it.
It was not mere curiosity that prompted him to this determination. He had been all out of sorts, with himself, since losing Sailor Bill in the game of helga; and he was desirous of obtaining some compensation for his ill-luck, by capturing the three castaways who had so mysteriously disappeared.
As to their having either drowned themselves, or walked away over the waste of waters, the old sheik had seen too many Saäran summers and winters to give credence either to one tale or the other. He knew they would turn up again; and though he was not quite certain of the where, he more than half suspected it. He had kept his suspicions to himself, – not imparting them even to his own special followers. By the laws of the Saära, a slave taken by any one of the tribe belongs not to its chief, but to the individual who makes the capture. For this reason, had the cunning sexagenarian kept his thoughts to himself, and fallen solus into the rear of the returning horde.
It might be supposed that he would have made some of his following privy to his plan, – for the sake of having help to effect such a wholesale capture. But no. His experience as a "Barbary wrecker" had taught him that there would be no danger, – no likelihood of resistance, – even though the castaways numbered thirty instead of three.
Armed with this confidence, and his long gun, he had returned down the ravine; and laid in wait near its mouth, – at a point where he commanded a view of the coast line, to the distance of more than a mile on each side of him.
His vigil was soon rewarded: by seeing the three individuals for whom it had been kept step forth from the sea, – as if emerging from its profoundest depths, – and stand conspicuously upon the beach.
He had waited for nothing more; but, giving the word to his maherry, had ridden out of the ravine, and was now advancing with all speed upon the tracks of the retreating mids.