“All right, massa,” he answered, “me tell the truth presently.”
Jumbo’s account had certainly the effect of raising their value in the estimation of the new arrival. Jumbo informed them that the chief’s name was Ibraim, that he resided in the northern part of the country, towards which they were forthwith to set out. Soon afterwards Jumbo on his return to their cell burst into tears.
“What is the matter?” asked Stephen.
“Beirouc say he no sell me, and that I stay here.”
“Tell him that we cannot do without you,” said Stephen.
“Me tell Ibraim; that more use,” said Jumbo.
Jumbo was evidently looked upon as a very clever fellow by the Arabs, and he so managed the matter that Ibraim purchased him as well as the two young Englishmen, and they immediately set forward on their journey northward. The whole party rode on horseback. Their steeds were small, active little animals, which managed to scuffle along at a great rate, up and down hill being apparently the same to them. Stephen and Roger agreed that it was far more pleasant riding than on camel-back. They were happier also when travelling than when stopping at night, when they were compelled to sleep in some dirty hut, with Jumbo and a number of Arabs as their companions. They were badly fed, and could seldom get any tolerable water to drink. At first they fancied that they were to be carried to Marocco, but they found Ibraim had no intention of visiting the capital, which he left far away on the right. On and farther on they went northward.
“So much the better,” said Roger. “The farther north, the more chance we shall have of escaping.”
At length, on passing over a lofty hill, Roger observed the blue ocean glittering brightly to the left, while in the far distance he made out the minarets, towers, and flat roofs of what appeared to him to be a large town. He pointed out the spot to Stephen.
“That is a town, no doubt about it, and probably it is to be our future abode; we must get Jumbo to learn its name.”