“Come, then.”
And away went Nanungamanoo. And by daybreak they were many, many miles from the camp of Mahmoud.
Book Three—Chapter Three.
A Chapter of Surprises—A Mysterious Pack, and a Mysterious Appearance.
Danger sharpens one’s wits. It makes the old young again, and the young old—in judgment.
Harry was no fool from the commencement, and he now reasoned rightly enough, that Mahmoud with his savage caravan, as soon as he missed the runaways, would naturally conclude that they had gone back towards the coast.
This, however, was precisely the thing that Harry had no present intention of doing. And why? it may be asked. Ought he not to be glad of the freedom he had once more obtained, and make the best of his way to some friendly village or town by the sea-shore? Perhaps; but then Harry was a wayward youth. He was wayward and headstrong, but on this occasion I think he had right on his side.
“I cannot and will not return,” he said to himself, “without making some effort to find my poor fellows—if, indeed, they be still alive. Besides, this is a strange and a lovely land, and there are strange adventures to be met with. I must see a little of it while I am here.”