The Arabs as they heard these words paused for a moment. The horsemen, in the meantime, were pursuing Selim’s party; but as no animals were faster than the Bu Saif breed of camels, they failed to overtake them. Roger and Stephen believed that their young friend had made his escape. Each of their assailants now inquired who they were, and where they were going.
Turning to Jumbo, they desired him to reply that their ship had been wrecked, and that they wished to make their way to Mogador, or some other place whence they could get aboard an English merchantman or a man-of-war.
The chief laughed. “It will be a long time before they reach their native land. They must understand that when Christians come into this country they have to work for us, their masters.”
“This is not pleasant news,” observed Stephen, when Jumbo had translated what the chief said. “Cannot we try to move the barbarian’s heart?”
“We will see what Jumbo can say, but I am afraid there is no chance of doing that,” said Roger.
Jumbo confirmed Roger’s opinion.
“We must bear our misfortune as best we can,” remarked Stephen. “However, we will lose no opportunity of trying to make our escape.”
The chief of the marauders now gathered his prisoners together, and ordered them to move forward, surrounded by his men on foot, while his mounted followers brought up the rear close behind them. They proceeded some distance, when, just at dusk, they encamped at a spot, a stream on one side and a hill on the other. Fires were lighted, sentries placed in the more exposed part, and the remainder of the people began cooking their provisions. Stephen and Roger had some camel’s flesh given to them and a handful of dates, and Jumbo brought them water from the river.
“Me stop here and do talkee,” he said, as he sat himself down before the fire to assist in cooking the camel’s meat.
“Come, we are better off than we might have expected,” said Stephen.