Keeping under Cover.
From the spot, where the camel still lay couched in his “entetherment”, the sea was not visible to one lying along the ground. It was only by standing erect and looking over a spur of the sand-ridge that the beach could be seen, and the ocean beyond it.
There would be no danger, therefore, of their being discovered, by any one coming along the strand, provided they kept in a crouching attitude behind the ridge, which, sharply crested, like a snow-wreath, formed a sort of parapet in front of them. They might have been easily seen from the summit of any of the dunes to the rear; but there was not much likelihood of any one approaching them in that direction. The country inward appeared to be a labyrinth of sand-hills, with no opening that would indicate a passage for either man or beast. The camel, in all probability, had taken to the gorge, guided by its instincts, there to seek shelter from the sandstorm. The fact of its carrying a saddle showed that its owner must have been upon the march at the time it escaped from him. Had our adventurers been better acquainted with Saaran customs, they would have concluded that this had been the case; for they would have known that, on the approach of a shumu, the forecasts of which are well-known, the Bedouins at once and in all haste break up their encampment and put themselves and their whole personal property in motion. Otherwise, they would be in danger of getting smoored under the settling sand-drift.
Following the counsels of the sailor, whose desert knowledge appeared as extensive as if it, and not the sea, had been his habitual home, our adventurers crouched down in such a way as not to be seen by any one passing along the beach.
Scarcely had they placed themselves in this humble attitude when Old Bill, who had been keeping watch all the while, with only the upper half of his head elevated above the combing of the sand-wreath, announced, by a low exclamation, that something was in sight.
Two dark forms were seen coming along the shore, from the southward; but at so great a distance that it was impossible to tell what sort of creatures they might turn out.
“Let me have a look,” proposed Colin. “By good luck, I’ve got my glass. It was in my pocket as we escaped from the ship; and I didn’t think of throwing it away.”
As the young Scotchman spoke, he took from the breast of his dreadnought jacket, a small telescope, which, when drawn out to its full extent, exhibited a series of tubes, en échelon, about half a yard in length. Directing it upon the dark objects, at the same time taking the precaution to keep his own head as low as possible, he at once proclaimed their character.
“They’re two bonny bodies,” said he, “dressed in all the colours of the rainbow. I can see bright shawls, and red caps and striped cloaks. One is mounted on a horse; the other bestrides a camel, just such a one as this by our side. They’re coming along slowly, and appear to be staring about them.”
“Ah, that be hit,” said Old Bill. “It be the howners of this ’eer brute. They be on the sarch for her. Lucky the drift-sand had covered her tracks, else they’d come right on to us. Lie low, Masther Colin. We mayn’t show our heeds over the combin’ o’ the sand. They’d be sure to see the size o’ a saxpence. We maun keep awthegither oot o’ sicht.”