“Bismillah! I am thy host, and all that I have is thine.”
“Thou sayest well. Behold this strange monster that lieth on the ground beyond us. It was made by a countryman of mine, to simulate the flying of birds in the air—a most wondrous thing, and worthy to be seen by his Shereefian Majesty the Sultan himself. I was indeed on my way to visit the Sultan, but was prevented by a most untoward happening. (That is strictly true, though the fact is somewhat post-dated,” he added in an aside.) “Even a bird tires with overmuch flying; and, as thou seest, this thing that imitates the flying of a bird tires also, so much so, indeed, that we saw that its wings would not carry us the full extent of our journey, and we were on our way back to the coast in order to repair its strength, when it failed us utterly. Wherefore, friend, we ask thee to lend us the assistance of some sturdy men from your village to carry our poor bird to Casa Blanca, or to any ship that may chance to be off your shore. (They may have seen the yacht.) For this service we will reward them liberally.”
“Bismillah!” ejaculated the Moor. Oliphant, watching his face during Sir Mark’s address, had caught a fleeting expression of perplexity and disappointment. Expecting to make an out-and-out capture, he was no doubt somewhat nonplussed at this request for assistance. But he had the Moor’s ready adaptability to circumstances. His speech gave no sign of his thoughts.
“Bismillah!” he repeated. “We are all in God’s hands. Let my brother give thanks to Allah the most Merciful that he came to a man so friendly disposed as Salaam son of Absalaam. It shall be even as thou wishest, Sidi. But first thou and thy son must come to my village, for your bird yonder is too heavy to be carried without much preparation. It will need the shoulders of a great number of men. But while the men are making ready, enter my house, all too unworthy to shelter you: yet we will comfort you with food, and do all that is in our power to please our guests.”
“We thank thee, O Salaam, for thy proffered hospitality, which we will accept, knowing that all things will be provided for our comfort.”
“So be it, Sidi. But within the walls of my village, when I first looked heavenwards and saw this strange flying thing, did I not see three men borne along in it, and one of them in djellab something like my own?”
Sir Mark smiled and, pointing to a part of the apparatus that was coloured grey, said—
“No doubt in the distance my brother mistook that for a person. We are two, as thou seest.”
The Moor still looked somewhat mistrustfully around. Then, with an appearance of being convinced, he dismounted, and ordered his followers to dismount also, asking his guest to choose whichever of the horses he pleased for himself and his son. At this imputation of kinship, Sir Mark elevated his eyebrows; the young man was certainly a disreputable-looking object. Thinking it policy to accept the offer, Sir Mark mounted the head-man’s own steed, Oliphant following his example with the horse of one of his party. Then, bidding a score of the men lift the airship on their shoulders, the head-man and the rest remounted, and led the way to the village. Both Sir Mark and Oliphant were glad that the distance was not great, for the high Moorish saddles were a sore trial to their unaccustomed limbs. The envoy, at any rate, was under no delusion as to the nature of the hospitality promised. From the manner in which the tribesmen escorted the two Englishmen to the village, there could be little doubt that they were prisoners.
From his perch in the tree Tom noticed that although the majority of the horsemen accompanied his friends towards the walls, four or five detached themselves from the party and returned to the plantation, which they proceeded to search pretty thoroughly. He made himself as small as he could among the foliage when they passed beneath him, but they did not look up; apparently it did not occur to them that any one should have mounted into a tree. When they had finished their fruitless search, they went, not in the direction their fellow-villagers had taken, but towards the coast. Tom saw them spread out as they rode from the plantation, and watched them until they were mere specks in the distance. Then, when they were, he supposed, perfectly satisfied that the suspected third member of the English party could not have escaped them, they wheeled round and returned one by one again passing not far from his hiding-place. Clearly, if they were so suspicious, it would be expedient for him to remain for some time in the tree—an unpleasant prospect, for he was becoming very stiff and cramped, and suffering rather severely from hunger and thirst.