Presently, on coming round a bend of the river, I saw a solitary fisherman paddling his kufa close inshore. I ran forward and hailed him, but at the sound of my voice he was seized with terror, and, dipping in his paddle, made off as fast as possible. I shouted after him that I was his friend, and that I would pay him handsomely if he would take me in his boat, so after a little he came cautiously back. I could see that he was half afraid and half curious, but my mention of money had impelled him to return and inspect me.
"How far is it to the city?" I shouted.
"A long way," he replied.
"How many days in your boat?" I asked.
"A full day and part of a night, without a rest," said he.
"Will you take me there?" I inquired, as he drew near.
"Impossible," he replied, "I have my fishing to attend to."
"But," I said, "I will pay you more money than you can earn by your fishing in a whole year."
The boat was now close to me, and without more ado I jumped straight into it. I was determined not to lose this chance, even if I had to throw the fisherman overboard. I knew that my strength was fast going. I might last as far as Baghdad, if I could sit quietly in the boat, but I could walk not another mile. My friend, who, I found, was an old man, was somewhat surprised at my action; but when I explained to him that I was an Ingleezee who had lost his way in the desert, he scented money, and told me that he was willing to do whatever I should wish.
"Where is your village?" I asked.