“No, you won’t see him again,” agreed the Arab.  “He’ll hardly swim to Aden—­apart from the little matter of sharks....  A pity the sharks should have so fair a body—­and we starve!” and he turned a fatherly benevolent eye on Moussa Isa—­whom a tall slender black Arab, from the hills about Port Sudan, of the true “fuzzy-wuzzy” type, had seized in his thin but Herculean arms as the boy rose to spring into the toni and paddle to the rescue of his benefactor.

The Dar-es-Salaam merchant threw Fuzzy Wuzzy a coil of cord and Moussa Isa (who struggled, kicked, bit and finding resistance hopeless, screamed, “Follow the boat, Master,” as he lay on his back), was bound to a cracked and salt-encrusted beam or seat that supported, or was supported by, the cracked and salt-encrusted sides of the canoe-shaped vessel.

Although very, very hungry, and perhaps as conscienceless and wicked a gang as ever assembled together on the earth or went down to the sea in ships, there was yet a certain reluctance on the part of some of the members to revert to cannibalism, although all agreed that it was necessary.

Among the reluctant-to-commence were those who had no negro blood.  Among the ready-to-commence, the full-blooded negroes were the most impatient.

Although very hungry and rather weak they were in different case from that of European castaway sailors, in that all were inured to long periods of fasting, all had crossed the Sahara or the Sus, lived for days on a handful of dates, and had tightened the waist-string by way of a meal.  Few of them ever thought of eating between sunrise and sunset.  The lives of the negroes were alternations of gorging and starving, incredible repletion and more incredible fasting; devouring vast masses of hippopotamus-flesh to-day, and starving for a week thereafter; pounds of prime meat to-day, gnawing hunger and the weakness of semi-starvation for the next month.

“At sunrise,” said the Leading Gentleman finality.

Good!  That left the so-desirable element of chance.  It left opportunity for change of programme inasmuch as sunrise might disclose help in the shape of a passing ship.  The matter would rest with Heaven, and pious men might lay them down to sleep with clear conscience, reflecting that, should it be the Will of Allah that His servants should not eat of this flesh, other would be provided; should other not be provided it was clearly the Will of Allah that His servants should eat of this flesh!  Excellent—­there would be a meal soon after sunrise.

And the Argonauts laid them down to sleep, hungry but gratefully trustful, trustfully grateful.  But Moussa Isa watched the wondrous lustrous stars throughout the age-long, flash-short night and thought of many things.

Had the splendid, noble Sheikh from the North heard his cry and had he found the toni?  How far had he swum ere his strength gave out or, with sudden swirl, he was dragged under by the man-eating shark?  Would he remove his long cotton shirt, velvet waistcoat and baggy cotton trousers?  The latter would present difficulties, for the waist-string would tangle and the water would swell the knot and prevent the drawing of string over string.