“We have nothing to do with the future,” said Colin, in answer to Jim’s entreaties that they should remain firm. “The future is the care of God, and we are only concerned with the present. We ought to promise anything if we can obtain food by it.”
“I think so too, now,” said the Krooman; “for it am worse than sure dat if we starve now we no be slaves bom-bye.”
“They will not quite starve us to death,” said Jim. “I have told you before that we are worth too much for that. If we will not work they will sell us, and we may reach Mogador. If we do work, we may stay here for years. I entreat you to hold out one day longer.”
“I cannot,” answered one.
“Nor I,” exclaimed another.
“Let us first get something to eat, and then take our liberty by force,” said Terence. “I fancy that if I had a drink of water I could whip all the Arabs on earth.”
“And so could I,” said Colin.
“And I, too,” added Harry Blount.
Sailor Bill had sunk upon the floor, hardly conscious of what the others were saying; but, partly aroused by the word water, repeated it, muttering, in a hoarse whisper, “Water! water!”
The Krooman and the three youths joined in the cry; and then all, as loudly as their parched throats would permit, shouted the words, “Water! water!”