LITMIR.BIZ

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feel astonished it didn’t occur to any of us sooner.”

      “Mother av Moses!” cried Terence, jocularly adopting his native brogue; “and why don’t you out with it at wanse? You Scatch are the thrue rid-tape of society.”

      “Never mind, Colly!” interposed Blount; “there’s no time to listen to Terry’s badinage. We’re all too sleepy for jesting: tell us what you’ve got in your mind?”

      “All of ye do as you see me, and I’ll be your bail, ye’ll sleep sound till the dawn o’ the day. Goodnight!”

      As Colin pronounced the salutation he sank down to the bottom of the ravine, where, stretched longitudinally, he might repose, without the slightest danger of being awakened by slipping from his couch.

      On seeing him thus disposed, the others only wondered they had not thought of the thing before.

      They were too sleepy to speculate long upon their own thoughtlessness; and one after the other, imitating the example set them by the young Scotchman, laid their bodies lengthwise along the bottom of the ravine, and entered upon the enjoyment of a slumber from which all the kettle-drums in creation would scarce have awaked them.

Chapter Ten.

       Table of Contents

      ’Ware the Sand.

      As the gully in which they had gone to rest was too narrow to permit of them lying side by side, they were disposed in a sort of lengthened chain, with their heads all turned in the same direction. The bottom of the ravine, as already stated, had a slight inclination; and they had, of course, placed themselves so that their heads should be higher than their feet.

      The old sailor was at the lower end of this singular series, with the feet of Harry Blount just above the crown of his head. Above the head of Harry were the heels of Terence O’Connor; and, at the top of all, reclined Colin, in the place where he had first stretched himself.

      On account of the slope of the ground, the four were thus disposed in a sort of échelon formation, of which Old Bill was the base. They had dropped into their respective positions, one after the other, as they lay.

      The sailor had been the last to commit himself to this curious couch; he was also the last to surrender to sleep. For some time after the others had become unconscious of outward impressions, he lay listening to the “sough” of the sea, and the sighing of the breeze, as it blew along the smooth sides of the sand-hills.

      He did not remain awake for any great length of time. He was wearied, as well as his young comrades; and soon also yielded his spirit to the embrace of the god Somnus.

      Before doing so, however, he had made an observation, one of a character not likely to escape the notice of an old mariner such as he. He had become conscious that a storm was brewing in the sky. The sudden shadowing of the heavens; the complete disappearance of the moon, leaving even the white landscape in darkness, her red colour as she went out of sight; the increased noise caused by the roaring of the breakers; and the louder “swishing” of the wind itself, which began to blow in quick, gusty puffs; all these sights and sounds admonished him that a gale was coming on.

      He instinctively noted these signs; and on board ship would have heeded them, so far as to have alarmed the sleeping watch, and counselled precaution.

      But stretched upon terra firma, not so very firm had he but known it, between two huge hills, where he and his companions were tolerably well sheltered from the wind, it never occurred to the old salt that they could be in any danger; and simply muttering to himself, “the storm be blowed!” he laid his weather-beaten face upon the pillow of soft sand, and delivered himself up to deep slumber.

      The silent prediction of the sailor turned out a true forecast. Sure enough there came a storm which, before the castaways had been half an hour asleep, increased to a tempest. It was one of those sudden uprisings of the elements common in all tropical countries, but especially so in the desert tracts of Arabia and Africa, where the atmosphere, rarefied by heat, and becoming highly volatile, suddenly loses its equilibrium and rushes like a destroying angel over the surface of the earth.

      The phenomenon that had broken over the arenaceous couch, upon which slept the four castaways, was neither more nor less than a “sandstorm”; or, to give it its Arab title, a simoom.

      The misty vapour that late hung suspended in the atmosphere had been swept away by the first puff of the wind; and its place was now occupied by a cloud equally dense, though perhaps not so constant, a cloud of white sand lifted from the surface of the earth, and whirled high up towards heaven, even far out over the waters of the ocean.

      Had it been daylight, huge volumes, of what might have appeared dust, might have been seen rolling over the ridges of sand, here swirling into rounded pillar-like shapes, that could easily have been mistaken for solid columns, standing for a time in one place, then stalking over the summits of the hills, or suddenly breaking into confused and cumbering masses; while the heavier particles, no longer kept in suspension by the rotatory whirl, might be seen spilling back towards the earth, like a sand shower projected downward through some gigantic “screen.”

      In the midst of this turbulent tempest of wind and sand, with not a single drop of rain, the castaways continued to sleep.

      One might suppose, as did the old man-o’-war’s man before going to sleep, that they were not in any danger; not even as much as if their couch had been under the roof of a house, or strewn amid the leaves of the forest. There were no trees to be blown down upon them, no bricks nor large chimney-pots to come crashing through the ceiling, and crush them as they lay upon their beds.

      What danger could there be among the “dunes?”

      Not much to a man awake, and with open eyes. In such a situation there might be discomfort, but no danger.

      Different, however, was it with the slumbering castaways. Over them a peril was suspended, a real peril of which perhaps on that night not one of them was dreaming, and in which perhaps not one of them would have put belief but for the experience of it they were destined to be taught before the morning.

      Could an eye have looked upon them as they lay, it would have beheld a picture sufficiently suggestive of danger. It would have seen four human figures stretched along the bottom of a narrow ravine, longitudinally aligned with one another, their heads all turned one way, and in point of elevation slightly en échelon, it would have noted that these forms were asleep, that they were already half buried in sand, which, apparently descending from the clouds was still settling around them; and that, unless one or other of them awoke, all four must certainly become “smoored.”

      What does this mean? Merely a slight inconvenience arising from having the mouth, ears, and nostrils obstructed by sand, which a little choking, and sneezing, and coughing would soon remove.

      Ask the Highland shepherd who has imprudently gone to sleep under the “blowin’ sna”; question the Scandinavian, whose calling compels him to encamp on the open “fjeld”; interrogate Swede or Norwegian, Finn or Lapp, and you may discover the danger of being “smoored.”

      That would be in the snow, the light, vascular, porous, permeable snow, under which a human being may move, and through which he may breathe, though tons of it may be superpoised above his body, the snow that, while imprisoning its victim, also gives him warmth, and affords him shelter, perilous as that shelter may be.

      Ask the Arab what it is to be “smoored” by sand; question the wild Bedouin of the Bled-el-Jereed, the Tuarick and Tiboo of the Eastern Desert, they will tell you it is danger, often death!

      Little dreamt the four sleepers as they lay unconscious under that swirl of sand, little even would they have suspected, if awake, that there was danger in the situation.

      There was for all that a danger, great as it

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