"There is no great harm done," Edgar said cheeringly to him. "You had no beauty to spoil, so you will be none the worse that way. You have had a lesson, and it will do you good. I daresay we shall get on very well together in future." Hamish gave an angry growl; he was in no mood for a reconciliation, and continued to work silently until the sun went down. As soon as it sunk below the sand-hills the negroes ceased work, and signified to Edgar that their time of labour was over.
The sheik had several times looked out from his tent to see how the work was getting on. "My capture was indeed a fortunate one, Amina," he said. "Never did I see men work as they have done this afternoon. Three times the usual amount of water has been poured over the field; truly he is a treasure."
When the slaves had ceased work they went to the lower end of the valley, where, on some ground covered with coarse grass, separated from the growing crops by a thorn hedge, a herd of goats and some twenty camels were grazing, and proceeded to milk the females. Edgar was a passive spectator, for the animals all showed their aversion to his white skin, and would not let him approach them. When the work was over they returned to the tents with the calabashes of milk, and were rewarded for their extra work with large platefuls of meal. Before eating his share Edgar filled a tin pannikin Amina had given him for his special use with water, boiled it over the fire, and dropped in a spoonful of tea, and going up to Amina asked for a little milk, which she readily gave him, surprised that a spoonful or two was all that he required.
"If I use it sparingly," he said to himself as he sat down to his meal, "that ten pounds of tea will last me over a year, and before it is gone I hope I shall see some way of getting off." As soon as he had finished it the woman whose child was ill came to him and took him off to see her. She was, as even Edgar could see, better; her skin was soft and her pulse was quieter, but she was evidently very weak. The woman held out a bowl of the arrow-root, and signified that she would not eat it, which Edgar was not surprised at, for it was thick and lumpy.
"I suppose the water didn't boil," he said to himself. "No wonder the poor little beggar cannot eat that stuff. I should think the Liebig would be the best for her, at any rate better than this stuff. I will get a tin or two from Amina, or rather she had better get it; I don't want to be always asking for things."