The Boy Slaves

"Ah! my friend, you have ruined me," exclaimed the Arab grazier, after their first salutations had passed. "I have lost those two useless Christian dogs you sold me, and I am ruined."

Bo Muzem asked him to explain.

"After your departure," said the grazier, "I tried to get some work out of the infidels; but they would not obey, and I believe they would have died before doing anything to make themselves useful. As I am a poor man, I could not afford to keep them in idleness, nor to kill them, which I had a strong inclination to do. The day after you left me, I received intelligence from Swearah which commanded me to go there immediately on business of importance; and thinking that possibly some Christian fool in that place might give something for their infidel countrymen, I took the slaves along with me.

"They promised that if I would take them to the English Consul, he would pay a large price for their ransom. When we entered Mogador, and reached the Consul's house, the dogs told me that they were free, and defied me trying to take them out of the city, or obtaining anything for my trouble or expense. The governor of Swearah and the Emperor of Morocco are on good terms with the infidel's government, and they also hate us Arabs of the desert. There is no justice there for us. If you take your slaves into the city you will lose them."

"I shall not take them into the empire of Morocco," said Bo Muzem, "until I have first received the money for them."

"You will never get it in Swearah. Their consul will not pay a dollar, but will try to get them liberated without giving you anything."

"But I have a letter from one of my slaves to his uncle, – a nut merchant in Swearah. The uncle must pay the money."

"The slave has lied to you. He has no uncle there, and I can soon convince you that such is the case. There is lying in this place a Mogador Jew, who is acquainted with every infidel merchant in that place, and he also understands the languages they speak. Let him see the letter."

Anxious to be convinced as to whether he was being deceived or not, Bo Muzem readily agreed to this proposition; and in company with the graziers, he repaired to the house where the Jew was staying for the night.

The Jew, on being shown the letter, and asked to whom it was addressed, replied, —

"To any English merchant in Mogador."

"Bismillah!" exclaimed Bo Muzem. "All English merchants cannot be uncles to the young dog who wrote this letter."

"Tell me," added he, "did you ever hear of an English merchant in Swearah named 'For God sake byas?'"

The Jew smiled, and with some difficulty restraining an inclination to laugh outright at the question, gave the Arab a translation of the words, "For God's sake buy us."

Bo Muzem was now satisfied that he had been "sold."

"I shall go no farther," said he, after they had parted with the Jew. "I shall return to my partners. We will kill the Christian dog who wrote the letter, and sell the rest for what we can get for them."

"That is your best plan," rejoined the grazier. "They do not deserve freedom, and may Allah forbid that hereafter any true believers should try to help them to it."

Early the next morning Bo Muzem set out on his return journey, thankful for the good fortune that had enabled him so early to detect the imposture that was being practised upon him.

He was accompanied by the grazier, who chanced to be journeying in the same direction.

"The next Christian slaves I see for sale I intend to buy them," remarked the latter, as they journeyed along.

"Bismallah!" exclaimed Bo Muzem, "that is strange. I thought you had had enough of them?"

"So I have," answered the grazier; "but that's just why I want more of them. I want revenge on the unbelieving dogs; and will buy them for the purpose of obtaining it. I work them until they are too old to do anything and then let them die of hunger."

"Then buy those we have for sale," proposed Bo Muzem. "We are willing to sell them cheap, all but one. The one who wrote this letter I shall kill. I have sworn it by the prophet's beard."

As both parties appeared anxious for a bargain, they soon came to an understanding as to the terms; and the grazier promised to give ten dollars in money, and four head of horses for each of the slaves that were for sale. He also agreed that one of his herdsmen should assist in driving the cattle to any Arab settlement where a market might be found for them.

The simple Bo Muzem had now in reality been "sold," for the story he had been told about the escape of the two slaves, Terence and Jim, was wholly and entirely false.

CHAPTER LXXIX.

RAIS MOURAD

Six days passed, during which the white slaves were comparatively well treated, far better than at any other time since their shipwreck. They were not allowed to suffer with thirst, and were supplied with nearly as much food as they required.

On the sixth day after the departure of Bo Muzem, they were visited by their masters, accompanied by a stranger, who was a Moor.

They were commanded to get upon their feet; and were then examined by the Moor in a manner that awakened suspicion that he was about to buy them.

The Moor wore a caftan richly embroidered on the breast and sleeves; and confined around the waist with a silken vest or girdle.

A pair of small yellow Morocco-leather boots were seen beneath trowsers of great width, made of the finest satin, and on his head was worn a turban of scarlet silk.

Judging from the respect shown to him by the merchants, he was an individual of much importance. This was also evident from the number of his followers, all of whom were mounted on beautiful Arabian horses, the trappings of which were made from the finest and most delicately shaded leathers, bestudded beautifully with precious metals and stones.

The appearance of his whole retinue gave evidence that he was some personage of wealth and influence.

After he had examined the slaves, he retired with the two merchants; and shortly afterwards the Krooman learnt from one of the followers that the white slaves had become the property of the wealthy Moor.

The bright anticipations of liberty that had filled their souls for the last few days, vanished at this intelligence. Each felt a shock of pain, – of hopeless despair, – that for some moments stunned them almost to speechlessness.

Harry Blount was the first to awaken to the necessity of action.

"Where are our masters the merchants?" he exclaimed. "They cannot – they shall not sell us. Come, all of you follow me!"

Reaching forth from the pens that had been allowed them for a residence, the young Englishman, followed by his companions, started towards the dwelling of the sheik, to which the merchants and the Moor had retired.

All were now excited with disappointment and despair; and on reaching the sheik's house, the two Arab merchants were called out to witness a scene of anger and grief.

"Why have you sold us?" asked the Krooman when the merchant came forth. "Have you not promised that we should be taken to Swearah, and has not one gone there to obtain the money for our ransom?"

The merchants were on good terms with themselves and all the world besides. They had made what they believed to be a good bargain; and were in a humor for being agreeable.

Moreover they did not wish to be thought guilty of a wrong, even by Christian slaves, and they therefore condescended to give some explanation.

"Suppose," said one of them, "that our master Bo Muzem should find a man in Swearah who is willing to ransom you, how much are we to get for you?"

"One hundred dollars for me," answered the Krooman, "and one hundred and fifty for each of the others."

"True; and for that we should have to take you to Swearah, and be at the expense of feeding you along the road?"

"Yes."

"Well, Rais Mourad, a wealthy Moor, has paid us one hundred and fifty dollars for each of you; and would we not be fools to take you all the way to Swearah for less money? Besides we might never get paid at Swearah, – whereas we have received it in cash from Rais Mourad. You are no longer our slaves, but his."

When the Krooman had made this communication to the others, they saw that all further parley with the Arab merchants was useless; and that their fate was now in the hands of Rais Mourad.

At Harry's request, the Krooman endeavored to ascertain in what direction the Moor was going to take them; but the only information they received was that Rais Mourad knew his own business, and was not in the habit of conferring with his slaves as to what he should do with them.

Some of the followers of the Moor now came forward; and the slaves were ordered back to their pen, where they found some food awaiting them. They were commanded to eat it immediately, as they were soon to set forth upon a long journey.

Not one of them, after their cruel disappointment, had any appetite for eating; and Sailor Bill doggedly declared that he would never taste food again.

"Don't despair, Bill," said Harry; "there is yet hope for us."

"Where? – where is it?" exclaimed Colin; "I can't perceive it."

"If we are constantly changing owners," argued Harry, "we may yet fall into the hands of some one who will take us to Mogador."

"Is that your only hope?" asked Colin, in a tone of disappointment.

"Think of poor Jim," added Bill; "he's 'ad fifty masters, – been ten years in slavery, and not free yet; and no hope on it neyther."

"Shall we go quietly with our new master?" asked Colin.

"Yes," answered Harry; "I have had quite enough of resistance, and the beating that is sure to follow it. My back is raw at this moment. The next time I make any resistance, it shall be when there is a chance of gaining something by it, besides a sound thrashing."

Rais Mourad being unprovided with animals for his slaves to ride upon, and wishing to travel at a greater speed than they could walk, purchased four small horses from the sheik, and it was during the time these horses were being caught and made ready for the road, that the slaves were allowed to eat their dinner.

Although Harry, as well as the others, had determined on making no opposition to going away with Rais Mourad, they were very anxious to learn where he intended to take them.

All the inquiries made by the Krooman for the purpose of gratifying their curiosity, only produced the answer, "God knows, and will not tell you. Why should we do more than Him?"

Just as the horses were brought out, and all were nearly ready for a start, there was heard a commotion at the gate of the town; and next moment Bo Muzem, accompanied by three other Arabs, rode in through the gateway.

CHAPTER LXXX.

BO MUZEM BACK AGAIN

As soon as the white slaves recognized Bo Muzem, they all rushed forward to meet him.

"Speak, Krooman!" exclaimed Harry. "Ask him if the money for our ransom will be paid? If so, we are free, and they dare not sell us again."

"Here, – here!" exclaimed Bill, pointing to one of the Arabs who came with Bo Muzem. "Ax this man where be brother Jim an' Master Terence?"

Harry and Colin turned towards the man from whom Bill desired this inquiry to be made, and recognized in him the grazier, to whom Terence and Jim had been sold.

The Krooman had no opportunity for putting the question; for Bo Muzem, on drawing near to the gate of the town, had allowed his passion to mount into a violent rage; and as he beheld the slaves, shouted out, "Christian dogs! you have deceived me. Let every man, woman, and child, in this town assemble, and be witnesses of the fate that this lying Christian so richly deserves. Let all witness the death of this young infidel, who has falsely declared he has an uncle in Swearah, named 'For God's sake buy us.' Let all witness the revenge Bo Muzem will take on the unbelieving dog who has deceived him."

As soon as Bo Muzem's tongue was stopped sufficiently to enable him to hear the voices of those around him, he was informed that the slaves were all sold, – the nephew of "For God's sake buy us," among the rest, and on better terms than he and his partners had expected to get at Swearah.

Had Harry Blount been rescued, Bo Muzem would have been much pleased at this news; but he now declared that his partners had no right to sell without his concurrence, – that he owned an interest in them; and that the one who had deceived him should not be sold, but should suffer the penalty incurred, by sending him on his long and fruitless journey.

Rais Mourad now came upon the ground. The Moor was not long in comprehending all the circumstances connected with the affair. He ordered his followers to gather around the white slaves and escort them outside the walls of the town.

Bo Muzem attempted to prevent this order from being executed. He was opposed by everybody, not only by the Moor, but his own partners, as well as the sheik of the town, who declared that there should be no blood spilled among those partaking of his hospitality.

The slaves were mounted on the horses that had been provided for them, and then conducted through the gateway leaving Bo Muzem half frantic with impotent rage.

There was but one man to sympathize with him in his disappointment, the grazier to whom Terence and Jim had been sold, and who had made arrangements for the purchase of the others.

Riding up to the Moor, this man declared that the slaves were his property; that he had purchased them the day before, and had given four horses and ten dollars in money for each.

He loudly protested against being robbed of his property, and declared that he would bring two hundred men, if necessary, for the purpose of taking possession of his own.

Rais Mourad, paying no attention to this threat, gave orders to his followers to move on; and, although it was now almost night, started off in the direction of Santa Cruz.

Before they had proceeded far, they perceived the Arab grazier riding at full speed in the opposite direction, and towards his own home.

"I wish that we had made some inquiries of that fellow about Jim and Terence," said Colin; "but it's too late now."

"Yes, too late," echoed Harry, "and I wish that he had obtained possession of us instead of our present master. We should then have all come together again. But what are we to think of this last turn of Fortune's wheel?"

"I am rather pleased at it," answered Colin. "A while ago we were in despair, because the Moor had bought us. That was a mistake. If he had not done so, you Harry would have been killed."

"Bill!" added the young Scotchman, turning to the old sailor, "what are you dreaming about?"

"Nothing," answered Bill, "I'm no goin to drame or think any mair."

"We ah gwine straight for Swearah," observed the Krooman as he spoke, glancing towards the northwest.

"That is true," exclaimed Harry, looking in the same direction. "Can it be that we are to be taken into the empire of Morocco? If so, there is hope for us yet."

"But Bo Muzem could find no one who would pay the money for our ransom," interposed Colin.

"He nebba go thar," said the Krooman. "He nebba had de time."

"I believe the Krooman is right," said Harry. "We have been told that Mogador is four days' journey from here, and the Arab was gone but six days."

The conversation of the slaves was interrupted by the Moors, who kept constantly urging them to greater speed.

The night came on very dark, but Rais Mourad would not allow them to move at a slower pace.

Sailor Bill, being as he declared unused to "navigate any sort o' land craft," could only keep his seat on the animal he bestrode, by allowing it to follow the others, while he clutched its mane with a firm grasp of both hands.

The journey was continued until near midnight, when the old sailor, unable any longer to endure the fatigue, managed to check the pace of his horse, and dismount.

The Moors endeavored to make him proceed, but were unsuccessful.

Bill declared that should he again be placed on the horse, he should probably fall off and break his neck.

This was communicated to Rais Mourad, who had turned back in a rage to inquire the cause of the delay. It was the Krooman who acted as interpreter.

The Moor's anger immediately subsided on learning that one of the slaves could speak Arabic.

"Do you and your companions wish for freedom?" asked the Moor, addressing himself to the Krooman.

"We pray for it every hour."

"Then tell that foolish man that freedom is not found here – that to obtain it he must move on with me."

The Krooman made the communication as desired.

"I don't want to hear any more about freedom," answered Bill; "I've 'eard enough ov it. If any on 'em is goin' to give us a chance for liberty, let 'em do it without so many promises."

The old sailor remained obstinate.

Neither entreaties nor threats could induce him to go farther; and Rais Mourad gave orders to his followers to halt upon the spot, as he intended to stay there for the remainder of the night. The halt was accordingly made, and a temporary camp established.

Although exhausted with their long, rough ride, Harry and Colin could not sleep. The hope of liberty was glowing too brightly within their bosoms.

This hope had not been inspired by anything that had been said or done by Rais Mourad; for they now placed no trust in the promises of any one.

Their hopes were simply based upon the belief that they were now going towards Mogador, that the Moor, their master, was an intelligent man – a man who might know that he would not lose his money by taking English subjects to a place where they would be sure of being ransomed.

CHAPTER LXXXI.

A PURSUIT

At the first appearance of day, Rais Mourad ordered the march to be resumed, over a long ridge of sand. The sun soon after rising, on a high hill about four leagues distant were seen the white walls of the city of Santa Cruz, or, as it is called by the Arabs, Agadez. Descending the sand ridge, the cavalcade moved over a level plain covered with grain crops, and dotted here and there with small walled villages surrounded by plantations of vines and date-trees.

At one of the villages near the road the cavalcade made a halt, and was admitted within the walls. Throwing themselves down in the shade of some date-trees, the white slaves soon fell into a sound slumber.

Three hours after they were awakened to eat a small compound of hot barley-cakes and honey.

Before they had finished their repast, Rais Mourad came up to the spot, and began a conversation with the Krooman.

"What does the Moor say?" inquired Harry.

"He say dat if we be no bad, and we no cheat him, he take us to Sweareh, to de English Consul."

"Of course we will promise that, or anything else," assented Harry, "and keep the promise too, if we can. He will be sure to be well paid for us. Tell him that!"

The Krooman obeyed: and the Moor, in reply, said that he was well aware that he would be paid something by the Consul, but that he required a written promise from the slaves themselves as to the amount.

He wanted them to sign an agreement that he should be paid two hundred dollars for each one of them.

This they readily assented to, and the Moor then produced a piece of paper, a reed, and some ink.

Rais Mourad wrote the agreement himself in Arabic, on one side of the paper, and then, reading it sentence by sentence, requested the Krooman to translate it to his companions.

The translation given by the Krooman was —

"To English Consul, —

"We be four Christian slave. Rais Mourad buy us of Arab. We promise to gib him two hundred dollar for one, or eight hundred dollar for four, if he take us to you. Please pay him quick."

Harry and Colin signed the paper without any hesitation, and it was then handed with the pen to Sailor Bill.

The old sailor took the paper; and, after carefully surveying every object around him, walked up to one of the saddles lying on the ground a few paces off.

Spreading the paper on the saddle, he sat down, and very deliberately set about the task of making his autograph.

Slowly as the hand of a clock moving over the face of a dial, Bill's hand passed over the paper, while his head oscillated from side to side as each letter was formed.

After Bill had succeeded in painting a few characters which, in his opinion, expressed the name of William McNeal, Harry was requested to write a similar agreement on the other side of the paper, which they were also to sign.

Rais Mourad was determined on being certain that his slaves had put their names to such an agreement as he wished, and therefore had written it himself, so that he might not be deceived.

About two hours before sunset all were again in the saddle; and, riding out of the gateway, took a path leading up the mountain on which stands the city of Santa Cruz.

When about half-way up, a party of horsemen, between twenty and thirty in number, was seen coming after them at full speed.

Rais Mourad remembered the threat made by the grazier who claimed the slaves as his property, and every exertion was made to reach the city before his party could be overtaken.

The horses ridden by the white slaves were small animals, in poor condition, and were unable to move up the hill with much speed, although their riders had been reduced by starvation to the very lightest of weights.

Before reaching the level plain on the top of the hill, the pursuers gained on them rapidly, and had lessened the distance between the two parties by nearly half a mile. The nearest gate of the city was still more than a mile ahead, and towards it the Moors urged their horses with all the energy that could be inspired by oaths, kicks, and blows.

As they neared the gate the herds of their pursuers were seen just rising over the crest of the hill behind them. But as Rais Mourad saw that his slaves were now safe, he checked his steed, and the few yards that remained of the journey were performed at a slow pace, for the Moor did not wish to enter the gate of a strange city in a hasty or undignified manner.

No delay on passing the sentinels, and in five minutes more the weary slaves dismounted from their nearly exhausted steeds, and were commanded by Rais Mourad to thank God that they had arrived safe in the Empire of Morocco.

In less than a quarter of an hour after Bo Muzem and the grazier rode through the gateway, accompanied by a troop of fierce-looking Arab horsemen.

The wrath of the merchant seemed to have waxed greater in the interval, and he appeared as if about to make an immediate attack upon Harry Blount, the chief object of his spiteful vengeance.

In this he was prevented by Rais Mourad, who appealed to an officer of the city guard to protect him.

The officer informed the merchant that while within the walls of the city he must not molest other people, and Bo Muzem was compelled to give his word that he would not do so: that is to say, he was bound over to keep the peace.

The other Arabs, in whose company they had come, were also given to understand that they were in a Moorish city; and, as they saw that they were powerless to do harm without meeting with punishment, their fierce deportment soon gave way to a demeanor more befitting the streets of a civilized town.

Both pursued and pursuers were cautioned against any infringement of the laws of the place; and as a different quarter was assigned to each party, all chances of a conflict were, for the time, happily frustrated.

CHAPTER LXXXII.

MOORISH JUSTICE

The next morning, Rais Mourad was summoned to appear before the governor of the city. He was ordered, also, to bring his slaves along with him. He had no reluctance in obeying these orders, and a soldier conducted him and his followers to the governor's house.

Bo Muzem and the grazier were there before them; and the governor soon after made his appearance in the room where both parties were waiting.

He was a fine-looking man, of venerable aspect, about sixty-five years of age, and, from his appearance, Harry and Colin had but little fear of the result of his decision in an appeal that might be made against them.

Bo Muzem was the first to speak. He stated that, in partnership with two other merchants, he had purchased the four slaves then present. He had never given his consent to the sale made by his partners to the Moor; and there was one of them whom it had been distinctly understood was not to be sold at all. That slave he now claimed as his own property. He had been commissioned by his partners to go to Swearah, and there dispose of the slaves. He had sold the other two to his friend Mahommed, who was present. He had no claim on them. Mahommed, the grazier was their present owner.