On further
representing to him that as the tide was high he ran the risk of
fracturing his leg or arm in passing over the slippery obstruction, he
acceded to the request, particularly as he considered that his feat was
accomplished. He accordingly took the end of a line and discontinued
paddling for a short while until they arrived opposite the town, within
three-quarters of a mile from the landing, when he let go and
shaped his course for the beach, the boat standing to the southward and
anchoring.
Boyton emerged from the surf and stood on the beach at 12.55 o'clock.
The moon was shining. Some of the native soldiers were aware that a man
was paddling across the straits; but many were not. One of the guards on
the wall surrounding the city, seeing him come out of the water, set up
a terrific cry in the Arabic tongue. Soon the bells were ringing from
the mosques and a great commotion was evident within the walls of the
city. Paul, not knowing what the natives might do with him, walked down
the beach a short distance and coming upon the upturned hull of a
wrecked vessel, crawled under it. He had scarcely done so, when the gate
to the city opened and a crowd of soldiers and citizens carrying
torches, rushed out. They soon got on his trail and followed it to the
old hulk which they surrounded with wild and discordant cries.
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