The belt of the migratory insects was about sixty yards in breath; yet, short as was the distance, the boy slaves declared that it was more disagreeable to pass over than any ten miles of the desert they had previously traversed.
One of the blacks, determined to make the crossing as brief as possible, started in a rapid run. When about half way through, his foot slipped, and he fell full length amidst the crowd of creepers.
Before he could regain his feet, hundreds of the disgusting insects had mounted upon him, clinging to his clothes, and almost smothering him by their numbers.
Overcome by disgust, horror, and fear, he was unable to rise; and two of his black companions were ordered to drag him out of the disagreeable company into which he had stumbled.
After being rescued and delivered from the clutch of the locusts, it was many minutes before he recovered his composure of mind, along with sufficient nerve to resume his journey.
Sailor Bill had not made the crossing along with the others; and for some time resisted all the attempts of the Arabs to force him over the insect stream.
Two of them at length laid hold of him; and, after dragging him some paces into the crawling crowd left him to himself.
Being thus brought into actual contact with the insects, the old sailor saw that the quickest way of getting out of the scrape was to cross over to the other side.
This he proceeded to do in the least time and with the greatest possible noise. His paces were long, and made with wonderful rapidity; and each time his foot came to the ground he uttered a horrible yell, as though it had been planted upon a sheet of red-hot iron.
Bill’s brother had now so far recovered from his feigned illness, that he was able to walk along with the boy slaves.