r pictures of these animals; but never before
either a camel or the picture of one with a sailor upon his back. The
very idea of a dromedary carries along with it the cognate spectacle of
an Arab on its back--a slim, sinewy individual of swarth complexion and
picturesque garb, a bright burnouse streaming around his body, with a
twisted turban on his head. But a tall camel surmounted by a sailor, in
dreadnought jacket and sou'wester, was a picture to make a Solon laugh,
let alone a trio of midshipmen; and it drew from the latter such a
cachinnation as caused the shores of the Saara to echo with sounds of
joy, perhaps never heard there before. Old Bill was not angry. He was
only gratified to see these young gentlemen in such good spirits; and
calling upon them to keep close after him, he gave the halter to his
maherry and started off over the sand.

For some time his companions kept pace with him, doing their best. But
it soon became apparent, even to the sailor himself, that unless
something was done to restrain the impetuosity of the camel, he must
soon be separated from those following afoot.

This something its rider felt himself incapable of accomplishing. It is
true he still held the halter in his hand, but this gave him but slight
control over the camel. It was not a Mameluke bit, not even a snaffle,
and for directing the movements of the animal the old sailor felt
himself as helpless as if standing by the wheel of a seventy-four that
had 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 hands, 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'
guns! it be as much as I can do to kee