At the spot which they
had halted, the stream--swollen apparently by rains in the
mountains--roared between its banks, in a dark chocolate-colored
flood.
Muley-Hassan himself was the only one of his band provided with a
tent, or anything resembling one, and the boys shared the common bed
of the rest of the party--which was the ground. A more unwholesome
resting-place in Africa, particularly on the steamy, swampy banks of
a river, could hardly be imagined. So indeed Muley-Hassan seemed to
think, for after a short time, during which the boys vainly tried to
secure some sleep, he ordered Diego to provide them with blankets to
place between themselves and the bare earth.
"I expect to get a good price for them eventually," he said, "and I
don't want to lose them unless I have to."
As the boys' wrists and ankles were bound with tough grass while
there was no particular attempt made to watch them, and soon the
snores of the camp bespoke that it was at rest. Then it was that
Billy whispered to Lathrop.
"Now's our time to try for it!"
"Try for what?" whispered back Lathrop in an inert tone.
"To get away."
"What!"
"I mean it. I found a sharp stone imbedded in the ground near to me
and I have nearly sawed through my wrist-bands."
After a few seconds' more vigorous scraping against the stone, Billy
whispered:
"My hands are free.
Pages:
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135