As he spoke, he opened a basket full of bread and dried meat, and several sorts of the most delicious and cooling fruit. There were figs and grapes and pomegranates, fragrant chirimoyas, yellow bananas, and several pine-apples; indeed many others too numerous to name.
Never shall I forget the exquisite delight with which I ate the first fig Ithulpo handed to me. It cooled my burning thirst more than all the water I had swallowed, and served both for meat and drink. It was a large soft fig with a white pulp. I instantly put out my hand for another, and he gave me a black fig with a red pulp, which vied with the first in excellence. Then he handed me a bunch of juicy grapes, but I still asked for more figs; and when I had finished as many as he thought were good for me, he tore open a chirimoya, and let me eat its snow-white juicy fruit. Outside it did not look tempting, for the skin, though green, was tough and hard, and covered with black spots. The platanos or bananas were cooked; and though I could not have swallowed a piece of dry bread, I was enabled to eat some of them with much relish. Altogether, never was a repast eaten with greater appetite, or, I may add, with more gratitude; for it certainly was the means of preserving my father’s life as well as mine. Ithulpo had taken the precaution to tether the animals, so that they could not escape; and as he sat by us, distributing the food, he informed us of what he had done after we had lost sight of him in the sand-storm.
“You must know, Señores,” he began, “I was so busy in liberating my poor countrymen from the ropes which bound them, that I did not observe which way you were taking. I shouted after you to turn back, but you did not hear me; and then the dreadful sand-cloud came on, and it was too late. I am well acquainted with this dreadful desert, and I was aware that we were out of the right path; but I also knew where that path was; so, as soon as all the poor fellows were free, we set off towards it. They were all well able to run without the ropes, and out of sight of our tyrants. Fortunately the sand-cloud wheeled round before it reached us, and we were safe.
“You must know that on the previous night I had stowed away the wine-skins full of water in your portmanteaus, and I thus had enough to give a good draught to each of the men, and to my beasts also. Our first care was then to get out of the desert. I knew where the ground was hard, so I led them to it, and we then could travel at a fast rate. About a league beyond where we were, there is a fountain of pure water gushing up out of a hard black rock. Here we were all able to refresh ourselves; and still a little farther on, marks are to be seen, by which I could direct my companions how to escape from the desert. They quickly availed themselves of my advice, and are now on their way to hide themselves among the mountains, where there is no fear of the Spaniards searching for them.”
“But what did you do, my friend?” I asked, stretching out my hand for another bunch of tempting grapes.
“Just as I was parting from them I saw a party of fruit-sellers crossing the desert, with several mules laden with fruit. I purchased some, as also some bread and baked platanos, and then set off to search for you. I knew, by the feel of the atmosphere, that there would be no more sand-storms; and hoped, it you had escaped that of yesterday, to find you. I know my way across any part of the desert blindfold, for I can tell by the smell of the sand alone where animals have before passed. As soon as it was daylight I returned to where I last had seen you. I saw where the sand-cloud had settled down, forming huge mounds, beneath which many of the Spaniards, I found, lay overwhelmed. At last I fell in with the tracks of your two horses. I guessed they were yours, for I thought the Spaniards would have kept together. I followed them up steadily. I came to where you had found the Spanish officer, and given him a pistol with which to defend himself.”
“What, did he tell you so?” I asked, interrupting Ithulpo.
“Oh no; his voice has ceased for ever,” he replied, with a dark smile. “He had been dead some time, and the fowls of the air were feeding on him; but I knew him by his dress, and I recognised your pistol, which he had fired. Here it is. I next reached the spot where you dismounted, and your horses had run away. I began to fear that I was too late to save you; and when following up the track of your footsteps, I saw that a number of the Spanish cavalry had escaped, and had gone towards yonder clump of trees. Several have fallen in the way, as the wings of the condors I could see flapping above the ground, one beyond the other, told me plainly. And now, Señores, it is time to mount and proceed. Two hours’ riding beyond those trees will carry us free of the desert; and may you never again enter it without a proper guide.”
My father rode Ithulpo’s horse; and while I clambered upon the back of the baggage mule, he walked. It was almost as hot as on the previous day; but I kept my mouth cool by occasionally eating a grape, and sometimes one of my favourite figs; and with little suffering we drew near the oasis.
“Are you not afraid of falling into the hands of the Spaniards, and of being accused of liberating their prisoners?” I asked.