The Boy Slaves

by Mayne Reid

There could be no doubt that their companion had been carried towards an encampment; for no other kind of settlement could be thought of in such a place. It was even a wonder that this could exist in the midst of a dreary wild expanse of pure sand, like that surrounding them. Perhaps, thought they, there may be “land” towards the interior of the country, a spot of firm soil, with vegetation upon it; in short, an oasis.

After their first surprise had partially subsided, they took counsel as to their course. Should they stay where they were, and wait for Bill’s return? Or should they follow, in the hope of overtaking him?

Perhaps he might not return? If carried into a camp of barbarous savages it was not likely that he would. He would be seized and held captive to a dead certainty. But surely he would not be such a simpleton as to allow the maherry to transport him into the midst of his enemies?

Again sprang up their surprise at his not having made an effort to dismount.

For some ten or fifteen minutes the midshipmen stood hesitating, their eyes all the while bent on the moonlit opening through which the maherry had disappeared. There were no signs of anything in the pass, at least anything like either a camel or a sailor. Only the bright beams of the moon glittering upon crystals of purest sand.

They thought they heard sounds, the cries of quadrupeds mingling with the voices of men. There were voices, too, of shriller intonation, that might have proceeded from the throats of women.

Colin was confident he heard such. He was not contradicted by his companions, who simply said they could not be sure they heard anything.

But for the constant roaring of the breakers, rolling up almost to the spot upon which they stood, they would have declared themselves differently; for at that moment there was a chorus being carried on at no great distance, in a variety of most unmusical sounds, comprising the bark of the dog, the neigh of the horse, the snorting scream of the dromedary, the bleat of the sheep, and the sharper cry of its near kindred the goat, along with the equally wild and scarce more articulate utterances of savage men, women, and children.

Colin was convinced that he heard all these sounds, and declared that they could only proceed from some encampment. His companions, knowing that the young Scotsman was sharp-eared, made no attempt to question his belief; but, on the contrary, gave ready credence to it.

Under any circumstances it seemed of no use to remain where they were. If Bill did not return, they were bound in honour to go after him, and, if possible, find out what had become of him. If, on the other hand, he should be coming back, they must meet him somewhere in the pass through which the camel had carried him off, since there was no other by which he might conveniently get back to them.