Chapter Seventy Nine.
A Pursuit.
On the first appearance of day Rais Mourad ordered the march to be resumed, himself riding in the advance over a long ridge of sand. The sun soon after shone forth, and on a high hill about four leagues distant were seen the white walls of the City of Santa Cruz, or, as it is called by the Arabs, Agadeer.
Descending from the sand-ridge, the cavalcade moved over a level plain covered with grain crops and dotted here and there with small walled villages, each surrounded by a plantation of vines and date-trees.
At one of the villages near the road the cavalcade made halt and was admitted within the walls. Throwing themselves down in the shade of some date-trees the white slaves soon fell into a sound slumber.
Three hours after they were awakened to breakfast, which consisted of hot barley cakes and honey.
Before they had finished their repast, Rais Mourad came up to the spot and entered into conversation with the Krooman.
“What does the Moor say?” inquired Harry.
“He say dat if we be no bad, and no cheat him, he take us to Swearah to de English consul.”
“Of course we will promise that, or anything else,” asserted Harry, “and keep the promise too, if we can. He will be sure of being well paid for us. Tell him that!”
The Krooman obeyed; and the Moor, in reply, said that he was well aware that he would be paid something by the consul, but that he required a written promise from the slaves themselves as to the amount.
He wanted them to sign an agreement that he should receive two hundred dollars for each of them.
This they readily assented to; and the Moor then produced a piece of paper, a reed pen, and some ink.
Rais Mourad wrote the agreement himself in Arabic on one side of the paper, and then reading it sentence by sentence requested the Krooman to translate it to his companions.
The translation given by the Krooman was as follows:—
“To English Consul.
“We be four Christian slave. Rais Mourad buy us of Arab. We promise to gib him two hundred dollar for one, or eight hundred dollar for four, if he take us to you. Please pay him quick.”
Harry and Colin signed the paper without any hesitation, and it was then handed, along with the pen, to Sailor Bill.
The old sailor took the paper and, after carefully surveying every object around him, walked up to one of the saddles lying on the ground a few paces off. Spreading the paper on the saddle he knelt down and very deliberately set about the task of making his autograph.
Slowly, as the hand of a clock moving over the face of the dial, did Bill’s hand pass over the paper, while his head oscillated from side to side as each letter was being shaped.
After he had succeeded in painting a few characters which, in his opinion, expressed the name of “William McNeal,” the document was handed to Harry, who was asked to write a similar agreement on the other side of the paper, which they were also to sign.
Rais Mourad was determined on being certain that his slaves had put their names to such an agreement as he wished, and therefore had written it himself, so that he might not be deceived.
About two hours before sunset all were again in the saddle, and, riding out through the gateway of the town, took a path leading up the mountain on which stands the city of Santa Cruz.
When about half way up, a party of horsemen, between twenty and thirty in number, was seen coming after them at full speed.
Rais Mourad remembered the threat made by the grazier, who claimed the slaves as his property; and every exertion was made by him to reach the city before his party could be overtaken.
The horses ridden by the white slaves were small animals, in poor condition, and were unable to move up the steep hill with much speed, although the riders had been reduced by starvation to the very lightest of weights.
Before reaching the level plain on the top of the hill, the pursuers had gained on them rapidly, and lessened the distance between the two parties by nearly half a mile. The nearest gate of the city was still more than a mile ahead, and towards it the Moors urged their horses with all the energy that could be inspired by oaths, kicks, and blows.
As Rais Mourad’s party approached the gate, the heads of their pursuers were seen just rising over the crest of the hill behind them. But as the Moor saw that his slaves were now safe, he checked his speed, and the few yards that remained of the journey were performed at a slow pace: for the great man did not wish to enter the gate of a strange city in a hasty or undignified manner.
There was no delay in passing the sentinels; and in five minutes after the weary slaves dismounted from their nearly exhausted steeds, and were commanded by Rais Mourad to thank God that they had arrived safe within the limits of the great Empire of Morocco.
In less than a quarter of an hour later, Bo Muzem and the grazier rode through the gateway, accompanied by a troop of fierce-looking Arab horsemen.
The wrath of the merchant seemed to have waxed greater in the interval, and he appeared as if about to make an immediate attack upon Harry Blount, the chief object of his spiteful vengeance.
In this he was prevented by Rais Mourad, who appealed to an officer of the city guard to protect him and his property.
The officer informed Bo Muzem that, while within the walls of the city, he must not molest other people, and the latter was compelled to give his word that he would not do so, that is to say, he was “bound over to keep the peace.”
The other Arabs, in whose company he had come, were also given to understand that they were in a Moorish city; and, as they saw that they were powerless to do harm without receiving punishment, their fierce deportment soon gave way to a demeanour more befitting the streets of a civilised town.
Both pursued and pursuers were cautioned against any infringement of the laws of the place, and as a different quarter was assigned to each party, all chances of a conflict were, for the time, happily frustrated.