Chapter 34 - The Boy Slaves by Mayne Reid
HOLDING ON TO THE HUMP
The struggle between Terence and the sheik still continued, upon the back of the maherry. The object of the young Irishman was to unhorse, or rather un-camel, his antagonist, and get him to the ground.
This design the old Arab resisted toughly, and with all his strength, knowing that dismounted he would be no match for the trio of stout lads whom he had calculated on capturing at his ease. Once à pied he would be at their mercy, since he was now altogether unarmed. His gun had been unloaded; and the shining scimitar, of which he had made such a dangerous display, was no longer in his grasp. As already stated it had fallen to the ground, and at that precious moment was being picked up by Colin; who in all probability would have used it upon its owner, had not the latter contrived to escape beyond its reach.
The mode of the sheik's escape was singular enough. Still tenaciously holding on to the hump, from which the young Irishman was using every effort to detach him, he saw that his only chance of safety lay in retreating from the spot, and, by this means, separating the antagonist who clutched him from the two others that threatened upon the ground below.
A signal shout to the maherry was sufficient to effect his purpose. On hearing it, the well-trained quadruped wheeled, as upon a pivot, and in a shambling, but quick pace, started back towards the ravine, whence it had late issued.
To their consternation Colin and Harry beheld this unexpected movement; and before either of them could lay hold of the halter,—now trailing along the sand,—the maherry was going at a rate of speed which they vainly endeavored to surpass. They could only follow in its wake,—as they did so, shouting to Terence to let go his hold of the sheik, and take his chance of a tumble to the ground.
Their admonitions appeared not to be heeded. They were not needed,—at least after a short interval had elapsed.
At first the young Irishman had been so intent on his endeavors to dismount his adversary, that he did not notice the signal given to the maherry, nor the retrograde movement it had inaugurated. Not until the camel was re-entering the ravine, and the steep sides of the sand dunes cast their dark shadows before him, did he observe that he was being carried away from his companions.
Up to this time he had been vainly striving to detach the sheik from his hold upon the hump. On perceiving the danger, however, he desisted from this design, and at once entered upon a struggle of a very different kind,—to detach himself.
In all probability this would have proved equally difficult, for, struggle as he might, the tough old Arab, no longer troubling himself about the control of his camel, had twisted his sinewy fingers under the midshipman's dirk-belt, and held the latter in juxtaposition to his own body, supported by the hump of the maherry, as if his very life depended on not letting go.
A lucky circumstance—and this only—hindered the young Irishman from being carried to the Arab encampment; a circumstance very similar to that which on the preceding night had led to the capture of that same camel.
Its halter was again trailing.
Its owner, occupied with the "double" which it had so unexpectedly been called upon to carry, was conducting it only by his voice, and had neither thought nor hands for the halter.
Once again the trailing end got into the split hoof—once again the maherry was tripped up; and came down neck foremost upon the sand.
Its load was spilled—Bedouin and Hibernian coming together to the ground—both, if not dangerously hurt, at least so shaken, as, for some seconds, to be deprived of their senses.
Neither had quite recovered from the shock, when Harry Blount and Colin, coming up in close pursuit, stooped over the prostrate pair; and neither Arab nor Irishman was very clear in his comprehension, when a crowd of strange creatures closed around them, and took possession of the whole party; as they did so yelling like a cohort of fiends.
In the obfuscation of his "sivin" senses, the young Irishman may have scarcely understood what was passing around him. It was too clear to his companions,—clear as a catastrophe could be to those who are its victims.
The shot fired by the sheik, if failing in the effects intended, had produced a result almost equally fatal to the three fugitives,—it had given warning to the Arabs in their encampment; who, again sallying forth, had arrived just in time to witness the "decadence" of the camel, and now surrounded the group that encircled it.
The courageous representative of England and the cool young Scotchman were both taken by surprise, too much so to give them a chance of thinking either of resistance or flight; while the mind of the Irish middy, from a different cause, was equally in a hopeless "muddle."
It resulted in all three being captured and conducted up the ravine towards the camp of the wreckers.