The process of watering the camels was carried on with the utmost diligence and care. It was too important to be trifled with, or negligently performed. While filling the capacious stomachs of the quadrupeds, their owners were but laying in a stock for themselves.

As Sailor Bill jocularly remarked, "it was like filling the water-casks of a man-of-war previous to weighing anchor for a voyage." In truth, very similar was the purpose for which these ships of the desert were being supplied; for, when filling the capacious stomachs of the quadrupeds, their owners were not without the reflection that the supply might yet pass into their own. Such a contingency was not improbable, neither would it be new.

For this reason the operation was conducted with diligence and care,—no camel being led away from the pool until it was supposed to have had a "surfeit," and this point was settled by seeing the water poured in at its nostrils running out at its mouth.

As each in turn got filled, it was taken back to the tribe to which it belonged; for the united hordes had by this time become separated into two distinct parties, preparatory to starting off on their respective routes.

Our adventurers could now perceive a marked difference between the two bands of SaÄra wanderers into whose hands they had unfortunately fallen. As already stated, the black sheik was an African of the true negro type, with thick lips, flattened nostrils, woolly hair, and heels projecting several inches to the rear of his ankle-joints. Most of his following were similarly "furnished," though not all of them. There were a few of mixed color, with straight hair, and features almost Caucasian, who submitted to his rule, or rather to his ownership, since these last all appeared to be his slaves.

Those who trooped after the old Arab were mostly of his own race, mixed with a remnant of mongrel Portuguese,—descendants of the peninsular colonists who had fled from the coast settlements after the conquest of Morocco by the victorious "Sheriffs."

Of such mixed races are the tribes who thinly people the SaÄra,—Arabs, Berbers, Ethiopians of every hue; all equally Bedoweens,—wanderers of the pathless deserts. It did not escape the observation of our adventurers that the slaves of the Arab sheik and his followers were mostly pure negroes from the south, while those of the black chieftain,—as proclaimed by the color of their skin,—showed a Shemitic or Japhetic origin. The philosophic Colin could perceive in this a silent evidence of the retribution of races.

The supply of water being at length laid in, not only in the skins appropriated to the purpose, but also within the stomachs of the camels, the two tribes seemed prepared to exchange with each other the parting salute,—to speak the "Peace be with you!" And yet there was something that caused them to linger in each other's proximity. Their new-made captives could tell this, though ignorant of what it might be.

It was something that had yet to be settled between the two sheiks, who did not appear at this moment of leave-taking to entertain for each other any very cordial sentiment of friendship.

Could their thoughts have found expression in English words, they would have taken shape somewhat as follows:—

"That lubberly nigger," (we are pursuing the train of reflections that passed through the mind of the Arab sheik,) "old Nick burn him!—thinks I've got more than my share of this lucky windfall. He wants these boys bad,—I know that. The Sultan of Timbuctoo has given him a commission to procure white slaves,—that's clear; and boy slaves if he can,—that's equally certain. This lot would suit him to a T. I can tell that he don't care much for the old salt he has tricked me out of by his superior skill at that silly game of helga. No; His Majesty of the mud-walled city don't want such as him. It's boys he's after,—as can wait smartly at his royal table, and give Éclat to his ceremonial entertainments. Well, he can have these three at a price."

"Ay, but a big price," continued the cunning old trafficker in human flesh, after a short reflection, "a wopping big price. The togs we've stripped from them were no common clothing. Good broadcloth in their jackets, and bullion bands on their caps. They must be the sons of great sheiks. At Wedmoon the old Jew will redeem them. So, too, the merchants at Suse; or maybe I had best take them on to Mogador, where the consul of their country will come down handsomely for such as they. Yes, that's the trick!"

At this parting scene the thoughts of Fatima's husband were equally occupied with trading speculations, in which he was assisted by the amiable Fatima herself.

Translated also into English, they would have read as follows:—

"The Sultan would give threescore of his best blacks for those three tripe-colored brats."

"I know it, Fatty dear; he's told me so himself."

"Then why not get them, and bring 'em along?"

"Ah, that's easy to say. How can I? You know they belong to the old Arab by right,—at least, he claims them, though not very fairly, for if we hadn't come up in good time they would have taken him instead of his taking them; no matter for that, they're his now by the laws of the SaÄra."

"Bother the laws of the SaÄra!" exclaimed Fatima, with a disdainful toss of her head, and a scornful turning up of her two protruding teeth; "all stuff and nonsense! There's no law in the SaÄra; and if there was, you know we're never coming into it again. The price you'd get for those three hobbledehoys would keep us comfortable for the balance of our lives; and we need never track the Devil's Desert again. Take 'em by force from old Yellow-face, if you can't get 'em otherwise; but you may 'chouse' him out of them at a game of helga,—you know you can beat him at that. If he won't play again, try your hand at bargaining against your blacks; offer him two to one."

Thus counselled by the partner of his bosom, the black sheik, instead of bidding the saleik aloum to his Arab confrÈre, raised his voice aloud, and demanded from the latter a parley upon business of importance.