As we rode along that day, I found that we were once more verging towards the sea-shore. While we were moving onwards, Abdalah came up with my spy-glass hung over his shoulder, and said that he wished me to show him its use. We soon afterwards—being a considerable distance ahead of the caravan—came to a halt, when, dismounting, I pulled the telescope out and put it to my eye. What was my surprise to see, in the far distance, a white spot on the beach, which on more minute examination I discovered to be a tent made of a ship’s sails! Instead of letting Abdalah see it, I turned the glass towards some distant camels, which appeared mere specks rising out of the sandy desert. Abdalah’s astonishment on seeing them, as it were, on a sudden brought within reach, was much greater than mine had been on catching sight of the tent.
After he had amused himself for some time, I informed him that I believed we should find some white men encamped at a distance of less than an hour’s journey, and entreated him to be merciful to them. “That will be as the sheikh thinks fit,” he answered evasively.
We were now anxious to hurry on, in order to ascertain who the people were; so, mounting our camels, we started off. I was considerably raised in the opinion of the sheikh and Abdalah when they found my prediction true. Dismounting from their camels, Halliday and I following them, they made their way towards the tent. As they drew aside a loose portion, a sad scene met the view. In the interior were a number of persons apparently in the last stage of starvation, whose haggard countenances, long hair and beards, and scanty clothing, showed the hardships they had endured. One of them coming forward, threw himself on his knees, imploring the chief in piteous accents to have compassion on him and his companions.
“Who are you?” asked the sheikh; but the man made no reply.
Halliday and I then stepped forward and looked on. I thought I recognised several of them, and at length was convinced that they were some of the people we had seen on board the Spanish ship. I then asked them if this was the case.
“Yes,” answered the poor man on his knees. “We escaped in one of the boats, and after enduring many hardships were thrown on this inhospitable shore,—several of our people being drowned at the same time.”
I told the sheikh of the sufferings they had endured, hoping to excite his compassion; but he seemed unmoved thereat, though he allowed Abdalah to show us a spot where, by digging, we could obtain some fresh water. The eagerness with which they took it when we carried it to them proved the amount of their thirst; indeed, I believe that all of them would have died in a few hours had we not arrived to their rescue, as they had long exhausted the small stock of water they had brought on shore, and had no idea that, by exerting themselves, they could have obtained a supply close at hand.
Among others I recognised the black boy, our young friend Selim, or Pedro as he was called on board. He
at once came forward, expressing his pleasure at seeing us; for, believing that we had been left on board the burning ship, he supposed that we had perished. He had before shown so friendly a feeling towards us that we also were glad to meet him, especially as he did not appear to dread his future lot.