Not long after the mother of the child was seen to stop her camel, and the three mids passed by her unnoticed. The old sailor hastened up as fast as his weary limbs would allow, to receive the hoped-for reward. But the poor fellow was doomed to a cruel disappointment.
When the woman perceived who had been entrusted with the carrying of her child, she pronounced two or three phrases in a sharp angry tone. Understanding them, the child dismounted from the sailor’s back, and ran with all speed towards her.
Bill’s reward was a storm of invectives, accompanied by a shower of blows with the knotted end of the halter. He strove to avoid the punishment by increasing his speed; but the camel seemed to understand the relative distance that should be maintained between its rider and the sailor, so that the former might deliver, and the latter receive the blows with the most painful effect. This position it kept until Bill had got up to his companions; his naked shoulders bearing crimson evidence of the woman’s ability in the handling of a rope’s end.
As she rode past Colin, who had again taken charge of the child, she gave the young Scotchman a look that seemed to say, “You have betrayed me!” and without waiting for a look in return, she passed on to join her husband at the head of the caravan.
The black slaves appeared highly amused at the sailor’s misfortunes. The interest had aroused their expiring energies; and the journey was pursued by them with more animation than before.
Bill’s disappointment was not without some beneficial effect upon himself. He was so much revived by the beating, that he soon after recovered his tongue; and as he shuffled on alongside his companions, they could hear him muttering curses, some in good English, some in bad, some in a rich Irish brogue, and some in the broadest Scotch.