Page:Recollections of a Rebel Reefer.pdf/221

 Rh the storm raged. Mr. King and I, as well as the starboard watch, had been on deck since eight o'clock the previous evening, and more exhausted men than we were could hardly be imagined.

The first land we sighted was the coast of Morocco. We passed down the coast in plain sight of the minarets of the ancient city of Mogador. When we reached a place where a range of barren-looking mountains ended at the sea and the great Sahara Desert extended into the unknown to the east and south, we dropped our anchor in the open ocean about a mile or more from the shore and about forty miles south of Mogador. We could see no signs of on the desolate-looking land, with life the exception of some bushes at the foot of the mountains. Day after day we lay there lazily rolling on the swell of the sea, the monotony only being broken occasionally by watching camel caravans to or from Mogador come along the beach and wind their way around the mountains, disappearing in the apparently limitless and glaring desert waste.

When the sirocco came in our direction from across the burning desert, it carried with it fine particles of sand which got into our eyes, ears, nose, and mouth, causing much discomfort, and added to this was the almost intolerable heat thrown off in the night by the thin iron sides of the ship, which made sleep almost impossible.

Early one morning we were surprised by seeing an open rowboat near us with five or six Moors in It. They came alongside the ship and offered us some fresh fish which we gratefully accepted, giving in exchange some old hoop iron, two old rusty razors, and two or three dilapidated old sheets out of which turbans could be fashioned. These were much prized, and when they left us the last we saw of them as they proceeded parallel with the beach instead of pulling for the shore, they were evidently wrangling as to which of them should have the turban material.