As we marched along a little rocky cliff--
it was not more than ten feet high--where a deep-water channel perhaps
fifty yards in breadth separated the mainland from the island whence
the slaves had been loaded on to the /Maria/, some difficulty arose
about the donkeys. One of these slipped its load and another began to
buck and evinced an inclination to leap into the sea with its precious
burden. The rearguard of hunters ran to get hold of it, when suddenly
there was a splash.
The brute's in! I thought to myself, till a shout told me that not the
ass, but Hassan had departed over the cliff's edge. Watching his
opportunity and being, it was clear, a first-rate swimmer, he had
flung himself backwards in the midst of the confusion and falling into
deep water, promptly dived. About twenty yards from the shore he came
up for a moment, then dived again heading for the island. I dare say I
could have potted him through the head with a snap shot, but somehow I
did not like to kill a man swimming for his life as though he were a
hippopotamus or a crocodile.
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