Part 9 (1/2)

The camels had not detected this fresh peril and were not directly aware of it, but the screams of the horses and shouts of the driver were evidence enough that it existed. The camels responded as though they were part of a caravan under attack. Whatever peril lurked, it might pa.s.s them by if they stood quietly.

The herd again tractable, Ali put a companionable hand on Ben Akbar's shoulder and turned toward the pier. His eyes widened in astonishment.

Mimico had received and was holding the tether rope of the single beast that had been transferred to the pier. It was one of the young females, and, like all the rest of the herd, it was standing very quietly. But on the pier and within a wide radius, Mimico and the young camel seemed to be the only living creatures that were quiet.

The terrified horses, bereft of all reason, had wrenched control from their driver. Whirling crazily, they had missed das.h.i.+ng off the pier and into the water by no more than a wagon wheel's width. Now, with the red-haired driver still trying with all his strength to stop them, they were running away at top speed. As Ali watched, a wheel struck a boulder and the wagon bounded high in the air.

To one side, a black-bearded man had been indolently sitting on a gaunt dun mule, with one foot in a stirrup and the other c.o.c.ked up on the saddle, while his chin rested on the upraised knee. Suddenly and obviously to the man's complete surprise--the mule began an insane bucking. The startled rider dropped his upraised foot, groped for and couldn't find the stirrup, and missed the dangling reins when he s.n.a.t.c.hed at them. He leaned forward to wrap both arms about the mule's neck and clung desperately.

Two saddled horses whose riders were among the crowd reared and danced in a mad effort to break their tethers. A horse that had not been picketed whirled and, tail high over its rump, galloped away. Everybody on sh.o.r.e except Mimico seemed to be shouting or screaming, or shouting and screaming.

A small boat moved up beside the lighter and more men came aboard. Four were native camel handlers but the fifth was a quiet young American named, Ali remembered, Gwynne Heap. With a taste for adventure and a knowledge of Eastern languages and customs derived from previous residence in the East, Heap had contributed at least as much as anyone else to the successful purchase and importation of the camel herd. Now he took competent command.

”You have no trouble?” he asked quietly.

”No trouble,” Ali told him.

Gwynne Heap called to Lieutenant Porter, who had remained in the small boat, ”Everything's under control.”

”Keep them coming,” Lieutenant Porter called back. ”They must be unloaded.”

Lieutenant Porter and the men who remained with him joined Mimico and made ready to help receive the camels. Ali began to harness the next animal scheduled for unloading.

He became absorbed in what he was doing, adjusting each strap and fastening each buckle with a fussy attention to detail that was both unnecessary and so time-consuming that it drew reprimanding glances from Gwynne Heap. Ali refused either to hurry or to look toward the sh.o.r.e, but refusing to turn his eyes toward it in no way obliterated the ugly thing that awaited there. The resentful crowd was still in an uproar.

Ali thought sadly of the joyous welcome his imagination had created for these camels, so vital to his own country, when they finally reached America.

The harnessed camel was finally swung away on the boom, and, still refusing to glance sh.o.r.eward, Ali began to help prepare the next in line. He tried to console himself with the thought that Lieutenant Porter was still in command and n.o.body would dare challenge him, but in his heart he knew that it was not so. If camels were not wanted in America, they could not be here. n.o.body could force their acceptance.

Then, as always when facing a problem that seemed to have no solution, Ali stopped thinking about it. He knew from experience that it was not wise to borrow trouble. The rising sun shone on not just one but many different paths that led in many different directions. One could always find the right way if he was properly diligent in the search.

One by one, the camels were landed until only Ben Akbar was left. Ali finally glanced sh.o.r.eward, to discover that Lieutenant Porter and his men had rigged a picket line, a long rope stretched across the pier, and they were tethering the camels to it as they were lowered and unharnessed. Ali saw also that the herd was again becoming restless, but this time there was no cause for concern.

The crowd was still in an uproar and such horses as had not already broken away were trying their best to do so. The camels had definitely decided that whatever might be bothering everything else would not disturb them. However, after many weeks at sea, at last they were once again on firm footing. That was very exciting.

His companions stood back while Ali alone harnessed Ben Akbar, then took hold of the boom and rode with him as the great _dalul_ was transferred from the lighter to the pier. He saw, even as he descended, that the tethered camels were fast becoming unmanageable. They both smelled and saw the earth that lay just beyond the pier and they were frantic to feel it. For all his skill, not even Mimico would be able to maintain control much longer.

The spectators--those with horses had wisely left them behind--had come nearer and were arranged in a rough U at the end of the pier and on either side. Lieutenant Porter, who looked more worried than he had during the stormiest part of the voyage, paced nervously back and forth. Again and again he searched the crowd, as though expecting to find someone who should be present but was not.

Keeping a firm grip on Ben Akbar's lead rope, because he knew that big _dalul_ was as anxious as any of the rest to feel earth under his feet, Ali turned to study the crowd, too. Except for a group distinguished by their uniforms, and further marked as soldiers by their arms and precise formation, he learned nothing except that Americans wear outlandish clothes.

Gwynne Heap came onto the pier and Porter asked anxiously, ”Will you see if you can find Wayne? He should have met us.”

”Right,” the other a.s.sented.

Gwynne Heap walked to the end of the pier and mingled with the crowd. A second after he disappeared, Ben Akbar s.h.i.+vered convulsively and Ali knew what to expect.

”I know you long to feel the earth, for I have a similar yearning,” he said. ”But wait until the time is here and the word is spoken. Do not break and run as a half-trained baggage camel might. Do not shame me, my brother.”

Ben Akbar quieted, but the rest of the camels would not be soothed. They surged forward, and there was no way to know which one broke the picket line because all were lunging. Tether ropes slipped off either end of the broken line as the herd ran forward.