“I propose that we catch it, and make it carry us somewhere or other,” said Halliday. “Its back is long enough to let us all ride on it: you, Boxall, on the top of the hump, as the post of honour; Ben, astern; and Charlie and I in front.”
I could not help laughing at Halliday’s proposal; Boxall did likewise.
“We must catch the beast first, then get it to lie down while we are mounting. And then, should we ever get on its back, seeing that it has no halter, it would certainly carry us—not where we wished to go, but to the tents of its masters; who would probably knock us on the head, or, if mercifully disposed, make slaves of us,” observed Boxall.
“Then I vote we don’t interfere with Mr Camel,” said Halliday. “But perhaps, if we were to follow its footsteps, it might lead us to where we could get some fresh water; or, should it go back to its owners, we might have time to reconnoitre them at a distance, and judge whether it would be prudent to trust ourselves in their power.”
“A very good idea,” said Boxall. “If, however, we are to trace its steps, we must wait till daylight; for as it probably walks much faster than we can, we should very likely lose sight of it, and get bewildered among the sand-hills.”
We were watching the camel as it came towards us, when, either seeing us or scenting us, it stopped short, poking out its head, as if wondering what curious creatures we could be. Then turning round, it stalked leisurely away, and was lost in the gloom.
“I hope it won’t go and tell its masters—unless they happen to be well-disposed individuals,” said Halliday. “I trust that they may prove friendly; and the camel, perhaps, has come to guide us to them.”
“It seems to me that daylight is breaking,” I remarked.
“We shall soon know all about the matter, then; only I do wish we could get something to eat,” said Halliday.