d unshipped her rudder. Just like a ship in such a situation did
the maherry behave. Surging through the ocean of soft sand, now mounting
the spurs that trended down to the beach, now descending headlong into
deep gullies, like troughs between the ocean waves, and gliding
silently, gently forward as a shallop upon a smooth sea. Such was the
course that the sailor was pursuing. Very different, however, were his
reflections to those he would have indulged in on board a man-o'-war;
and if any man ever sneered at that simile which likens a camel to a
ship, it was Sailor Bill upon that occasion.

"Avast there!" cried he, as soon as the maherry had fairly commenced
moving. "Shiver my old timbers! what do yez mean, you brute? Belay
there! belay! 'Ang it, I must pipe all 'ands, an' take in sail. Where
the deevil are ye steerin' to? Be jabers, yez may laugh, young
gentlemen, but this ain't a fair weather craft, I tell yez. Thunder an'
ouns! it be as much as I can do to keep her to her course. Hulloo! she's
off afore the wind!"

As the rider of the maherry gave out this declaration, the animal was
seen suddenly to increase its speed, not only in a progressive ratio,
but at once to double quick, as if impelled by some powerful motive.

At the same time it was heard to utter a strange cry, half scream, half
snort, which could not have been caused by any action on the part of its
rider.

It was already over a hundred yards in advance of those following on
foot; but after giving out that startling cry, the distance became
quickly increased, and in a few seconds of time the three astonished
"mids" saw only the shadow of a maherry, with a sailor upon its back,
first dissolving into dim outline until it finally disappeared behind
the sand dunes that abutted upon the beach.

CHAPTER XX.

THE DANCE INTERRUPTED.

Leaving the midshipmen to their mirth, which, however, was not of very
long duration, we must follow Sailor Bill and the runaway camel.

In reality the maherry had made off with him, though for what reason the
sailor could not divine. He only knew that it was going at the rate of
nine or ten knots an hour, and going its own way; for instead of keeping
to the line of the coast,--the direction he would have wished it to
take,--it had suddenly turned tail upon the sea, and headed towards the
interior of the country.

Its rider had already discovered that he had not the slightest control
over it. He had tugged upon