On turning their eyes in that direction, they at once saw that they were mistaken. A quadruped had produced the noise, but one of a very different kind from the hairy brute with which they had parted. Just emerging from the shadow of the sand-hills, they perceived a huge creature, whose uncouth shape proclaimed it to be a camel.
The sight filled them with consternation. Not that it was a camel; but because, at the same time, they discovered that there was a man upon its back, who brandishing a long weapon, was urging the animal towards them.
The three midshipmen made no effort to continue the journey thus unexpectedly interrupted. They saw that any attempt to escape from such a fast-going creature would be idle. Encumbered as they were with their wet garments, they could not have distanced a lame duck; and, resigning themselves to the chances of destiny, they stood awaiting the encounter.
Chapter Thirty Two.
A cunning Sheik.
When the camel and its rider first loomed in sight, indistinctly seen under the shadow of the sand-dunes, our adventurers had conceived a faint hope that it might be Sailor Bill.
It was possible, they thought, that the old man-o’-war’s-man, left unguarded in the camp, might have laid hands on the maherry that had made away with him, and pressed it into service to assist his escape.
The hope was entertained only for a instant. Bill had encountered no such golden opportunity, but was still a prisoner in the tent of the black sheik, surrounded by his shrewish tormentors. It was the maherry, however, that was seen coming back; for as it came near, the three middies recognised the creature whose intrusion upon their slumbers of the preceding night had been the means, perhaps, of saving their lives.