“Oh! excellent—excellent,” I exclaimed, enchanted at finding the very event I had once dreamed of about to be realised. “When are we to commence our adventure?”
“As soon as I can arrange our costumes, and make other necessary preparations. Captain Poynder, after he has landed us, intends to watch off the coast, and to stand in at night, to be ready to render us any assistance we may require.”
Two days after this conversation, a party of travellers were seen issuing from the ancient gates of the city of Tangiers,—in days long gone by, when Charles the Second ruled the land, held by a British garrison, till delivered over to the Portuguese. He who seemed to be the leader of the party rode a strong, active horse, and was habited in long, dark, flowing robes, a turban of many folds of muslin, long yellow boots, and spurs of great size. A large moustache, and a beard bushy and long, almost concealed his month. The ink-horn at his waist, and his want of weapons of defence, showed that he was a peaceable character. A lad also, in an Eastern dress, though of simple and somewhat coarse materials, followed him on a stout mule, which likewise carried a pair of saddle-bags, and a small square chest secured in front. Slung over the back of the youth was a long case, of curious form. A dagger at his side was the only arm he wore. A tall man, well-armed with matchlock and scimitar, rode ahead on a stout nag. On his head was the high red Moorish cap, with many folds of muslin twisted round it. The flowing hair fell over his shoulders, above which he wore a soolham of red cloth, while gaily-worked yellow boots, and a pair of spurs of cruel length and sharpness, adorned his feet. He evidently felt his importance, as the protector and fighting-man of the party. Another personage followed, of inferior rank, with a mule, which carried the chief part of the baggage. The country through which they travelled was of an undulating character, but parched by the suns of summer, the beds of the winter torrents being now stony ravines, and the only green visible being furze and palmetto, and here and there patches of Indian corn not quite ripe, though the stubble of fine wheat and barley extended over a considerable portion of the ground.
“D’Arcy, my boy, how do you like being turned into a young Turk?” said Mr Vernon, calling me up to him, after we had proceeded some way.
I touched my mouth, and pointed to out escort.
“Never mind them,” he replied; “they are, I am assured, faithful to the backbone, and know how matters stand. There is little use of giving such men half-confidences.”
“Then,” said I, “I’ll make play with my tongue while I can. I like the fun amazingly. What do you propose to do, sir, next?”
“In the first place, when we get up to the territory of the old chief, Mulai Mohamed, we must leave our escort and proceed alone to his village. We must present ourselves at his residence, and, inquiring whether he has jewels to sell or wishes to buy others, must endeavour to gain access to the inmates of his harem; or, at all events, we must try to meet with Major Norman, or some of the crew of the Ariadne. However, we must be guided entirely by circumstances.”
It was a great satisfaction to me to be able to talk, for I fancied that I should have had to hold my tongue from the moment I set foot on shore. I wish that my space would allow me to describe my journey, for it lasted a considerable number of days, and was very amusing. We pushed on as rapidly as the strength of our steeds would allow, though that was far from fast enough to suit Mr Vernon’s impatience. We met with a variety of adventures also. At night we used to halt, and pitch our tent, and fetch water, and cook our supper; while our followers would sit before the fire, recounting their adventures, or boasting of the deeds of their ancestors or friends, or telling tales of genii or ghouls, and a variety of other beings, in whose existence they firmly believe. As we journeyed on, we killed a quantity of game, chiefly partridges, which crossed our path in great numbers; and now and then we got a shot at a wild boar, and knocked him over. At night, watch was always kept with a good fire, or we should have had the jackals, who were always howling round us, paying us a visit. These beasts the Moors do not object to eat, though they will not touch pig. We one day fell in with an encampment of a powerful tribe, the Sheikh of which insisted on my master, Taleb Moostafa, otherwise Lieutenant Vernon, dining with him. I accompanied him for the pleasure of looking on, though, of course, I was not expected to eat likewise. On arriving at the tent of the Sheikh, we found him seated within it, on a cushion, covered with thick skin, another being placed for the Taleb, or scribe, for to that learned profession Mr Vernon thought he might venture to belong. A variety of compliments having passed, a table was brought in and placed between them. It was circular, about two feet in diameter, and scarcely more than six inches from the ground, richly inlaid and painted in arabesque. A large bowl, full of a highly-seasoned soup, with some sort of macaroni in it, was first placed on the table. The bowl contained spoons, with which the guests were to help themselves at the same time. Next came a plate of beef, much stewed, and garnished with melons; and lastly a huge dish of kesksoo,—a thick porridge, made of wheaten flour piled up, which the Sheikh attacked most vigorously, while my master attempted to follow his example. When dinner was over, some of the tribe assembled on horseback, and played all sorts of pranks. Some stood on their heads while their horses went; they charged each other at a rapid speed; they changed places with their companions at full gallop; then they would dash up to where we stood, and, discharging their muskets, wheel about and give place to others, who followed at their heels. Some would dash their haicks or turbans on the ground, and leaning from their horses, would pick them up, without for an instant slackening their speed. Next they shot at a mark, a flower on a pile of stones being their target; and certainly they managed to hit it in a wonderful way. The same men, however, would probably have but a poor bag of game to show after a day’s walk over the moors in Scotland. Our friendly Sheikh accompanied us some way on our journey on the following day, with many good wishes for our welfare. I must leave out the rest of our adventures, till one evening, Hamed, our chief guide, pointing to a line of lofty mountains which fringed the coast, exclaimed—
“There, most learned Taleb, at the foot of yonder mountains, you will find the residence of the fierce Sheikh you seek. Further we dare not go, as we have no wish to feel our throats being cut. Here we will remain till you return, if you ever do return, which Allah grant may soon be, though I am doubtful of it. If you do not come back, we will report your loss to your friends, and trust they may find means to avenge you.”