Some boats were pulling off from the shore, and behind them was a swarm of tattered Arabs, half naked, wading in the water, advancing toward the vessel, waving their arms wildly, and uttering strange cries.
“Evidently that is one of the queer things we are to see in this country,” said Frank, quietly.
The boats reached the steamer, and the passengers were hurried into them by the boatmen. Frank and Ephraim succeeded in getting into one boat, and were called on to pay for their passage immediately after they had left the steamer.
The boats moved toward the throng of tattered terra-cotta-colored human beings, some of whom had waded in the water to the middle of their thighs.
As soon as this disreputable-looking horde was reached it precipitated itself upon the boats. The passengers were seized by the jabbering gang, as if they were to be put to death without delay.
One old fellow grabbed Ephraim and tried to drag him from the boat.
“Git aout!” squawked the boy from Vermont.
He hit the old Arab a back-handed blow with the flat of his hand, knocking the man over in a twinkling.
But the old Arab was not to be baffled in such a manner. Dripping with water, he scrambled up and grappled with the excited youth.
Seeing a catastrophe was coming, Frank lost no time in climbing out of the boat to the shoulders of a burly mulatto, where he sat in a comfortable position, waving his hat and shouting: