It was so hot in the hotel garden that Nurse and Ellen, not always the
best of friends, had agreed for once, and declared another game of
"Horse" to be quite out of the question.
"You'll be getting a sunstroke the next thing," grumbled Nurse, "and
then what'll your father say when he comes? No, Miss Phyllis, you
needn't say another word. You're not going to stay out in this broiling
sun any longer, or Master Reggie either. You're both coming in the
house, to keep quiet till Mr. and. Mrs. Starr come home."
"But Daddy and Mother won't be back before dinner-time, and it isn't
more than four o'clock now," persisted Reggie. "There isn't a thing to
do in that stupid old hotel. Please let us stay out on the terrace,
even if we can't play 'Horse' any longer--please do, Ellen."
Ellen, who was much more good-natured than Nurse, hesitated.
"We might let them play quietly on the hotel terrace," she suggested
rather timidly, for at the bottom of her heart Ellen stood very much in
awe of Nurse. "The band's going to play while the people have tea, and
it'll be nice to listen to the music."
Nurse really had no objection to sitting on the hotel veranda, while
the orchestra played, and the guests took their afternoon tea, except
that she always objected on principle to every plan that she had
not herself suggested. So she gave a grudging consent, and they all
adjourned to the cool terrace, where the tea-tables were being set
out, and the musicians were tuning up their instruments. It was nearly
a week since they had landed in Egypt, and two days before Mr. Starr
had moved his party to a hotel a little out of Cairo, and close to the
great Pyramids. It was rather hot in Cairo, and the children had found
the change to a purer air very agreeable. Besides, this hotel had a
garden, in which they spent a good part of the day, playing "Horse," a
game of which Reggie in particular, was extremely fond. To-day Mr. and
Mrs. Starr had gone with a party of American friends, to visit some
more distant pyramids, and the children and nurses were left alone at
the hotel.
"I do like to look at the ladies' pretty dresses," Ellen remarked, with
a little sigh of content, as a party of prettily dressed English girls
took their places at one of the tables.
"I don't care much about people's dresses," returned Nurse, crossly.
"Things I can't have myself never interest me. The thing I should care
for more than anything else at this minute would be a good cup of tea."
"They serve tea in the maids' dining-room every afternoon at half-past
four," said Ellen. "It must be just about that time now. I've a great
mind to run and get a cup myself. Would you mind staying here with the
children till I come back?"
"I could go any time I chose," retorted Nurse, airily. "Miss Phyllis
would never think of stirring from here if I told her not to. You
couldn't say as much for the boy, I suppose."
Now Ellen was really very fond of Reggie, and she resented the implied
doubt in Nurse's tone.
"He's a very obedient little fellow," she maintained, stoutly, "and a
sweeter-dispositioned child you wouldn't find in a hurry, I can tell
you."
"Well, then, what's to prevent our leaving them here, while we both
just step down for a cup of tea? We won't be gone ten minutes."
The band had by this time struck up a lively march, which quite drowned
the voices of the two women, and the children had no idea what they
were talking about and were much surprised to see both their guardians
rise at once, and to hear Nurse's voice, raised so as to be heard above
the music, informing them that she and Ellen were going to the maids'
dining-room for a cup of tea, and that they were on no account to stir
from the terrace until they came back. Nurse did not wait for any
reply, but hurried away, followed by the more reluctant Ellen.
"Don't you think Nurse is the most disagreeable person you have ever
seen?" inquired Reggie, as the figures of the two women disappeared
from view.
"She's pretty disagreeable," Phyllis admitted, with a sigh; "Ellen is
much nicer."
"Ellen's all right sometimes, but Nurse puts ideas into her head, and
that makes her disagreeable too. It was mean of them to make us stop
playing 'Horse,' just when we were having such fun, and those sticks
with horse-hair on the end, that the people use to shoo away the flies,
did make such splendid tails. It wasn't a bit hotter than it often is
at home in summer, and Daddy says it does people good to be out in the
sun."
"It wasn't fair, either," said Phyllis, in a deeply aggrieved tone.
"They made us stop just when it was your turn to be Horse. I'd been
Horse all the afternoon, and it's ever so much more fun to be Driver."
"They're not fair about a great many things," said Reggie, his
indignation rising at the memory of more injustice. "They haven't taken
us for a walk since we came here, and of course we don't want to stay
in the old garden all day. I asked Ellen very nicely this morning, if
she wouldn't please take us to see the Pyramids and the Sphinx again,
and she was just going to say 'Yes' when Nurse said she'd like to see
herself walking about among all those black heathens, and then Ellen
said she was afraid, and we'd have to stay in the garden till Daddy and
Mother came home. It isn't fair. We've only seen the Sphinx once, and
Daddy says it's one of the most interesting things in Egypt."
"The Sphinx is rather ugly, don't you think so?" said Phyllis,
doubtfully. "I dreamed about it last night, and it wasn't a nice dream.
I like the Pyramids better."
"I don't think the Sphinx is ugly," returned Reggie. "I think it's just
queer. Daddy says I must keep my eyes open all the time, and remember
everything I see, so I can tell people about them when I go home. He
says travelling educates people as much as going to school, but I don't
see how I'm going to get educated if Ellen won't take me to see things."
"It isn't far to the Pyramids," observed Phyllis, with a glance in
the direction of the great stone marvels, which can be seen for miles
around. "It would only take a few minutes to walk there."
"I wish we could go by ourselves," said Reggie. "We could just as well
as not, if they would only let us. It isn't any further than Bobby
Campbell's house is from ours in New York, and I always go there by
myself."
"Who's Bobby Campbell?" Phyllis inquired, with interest.
"He's my best friend. He's nine, and I'm going to his school next year.
We always go to each other's houses by ourselves. At first mother was
afraid I might get run over crossing the street, but Daddy said it was
nonsense, and that boys must learn to take care of themselves, so now
she always lets me go."
"Ellen and Nurse would never let us go out by ourselves here," said
Phyllis, with conviction.
"Of course they wouldn't, they're such sillies, but we might do it some
time when they weren't around. We'd only go as far as the Sphinx and I
don't believe Daddy would mind."
"It would be fun," Phyllis admitted, "if we were sure the black people
wouldn't hurt us."
"Pooh!" said Reggie, in a tone of infinite scorn. "You certainly are a
great baby, Phyllis, even if you are nine. Those Arabs are very good
people, even if they are black. I know a boy at home whose family have
a colored coachman, and he's just as nice as he can be. He's taught Joe
to drive, and lets him come into the stable whenever he likes. Then
there's Abdul, our dragoman. I heard mother tell Daddy she thought
Abdul had a beautiful smile, and you know how kind he was yesterday
when we rode the donkeys. Nobody would be afraid of an Arab except
sillies like Nurse and Ellen."
"I'm not really afraid," declared Phyllis, who was feeling a good deal
ashamed of her momentary doubts. "I'd just as lief as not walk as far
as the Sphinx by ourselves."
"Well, let's do it," said Reggie, with a sudden inspiration. "It
wouldn't take but a few minutes, and it would be such fun."
Phyllis gave a little gasp of excitement. "Do you mean to do it now,
this minute?" she demanded, incredulously.
"Yes, why not? We may never get another chance. They've gone off for
tea, and you know how long that always takes them. Just as likely as
not they'll be back before we are, and then won't they be surprised
when they hear where we've been?"
"But Nurse told us not to stir till she came back," faltered Phyllis,
feeling a little frightened, though her eyes were sparkling with
mischievous anticipation.
"But we didn't promise. Of course if we'd promised we couldn't do it,
but they didn't even wait for us to answer. I'm going, any way, but you
can stay here if you want to."
"If you go I'm going, too," declared Phyllis, stoutly. "Nurse will
scold dreadfully, and perhaps she'll put me to bed, but it's pretty
near bedtime, anyway, and I'm tired, so I don't care. Are you sure your
father and mother won't be angry?"
"Daddy won't, he likes to have me do grown-up things. Mother might be
a little bit worried if she knew about it, but we shall be back ages
before she comes home. Besides, Daddy can generally talk her round.
Come along, we've got to hurry if we want to get back before Ellen and
Nurse."
All this time the orchestra had been playing very loud, and in
consequence none of the other people on the terrace had overheard
the children's conversation. A few of the ladies glanced carelessly
at the two little figures, as they rose from their seats, and walked
resolutely down the steps, and away in the direction of the gate, but
no one imagined for a moment that they contemplated anything more
daring than a stroll about the hotel grounds.
"What an attractive child that little girl is!" one lady remarked
carelessly, and her companion answered:
"Yes, and the boy is a manly little fellow, too. I wonder who they are.
They haven't been here more than a day or two."
"It's a lucky thing they didn't make us take off our hats when they
brought us in," remarked Reggie, as they walked briskly down the path.
"The sun is pretty hot, isn't it?"
"I don't mind it a bit," returned Phyllis, determined that her
companion should not have an opportunity of pronouncing her a baby
again. "I can walk a long way. I walked six miles with Aunt Helen once.
We went to have tea with some people, and lost our way coming home.
Aunt Helen was a little frightened when it began to get dark, but I
wasn't frightened a bit. We got home all right, and Aunt Helen let me
stay and warm myself by the drawing-room fire, and it was so nice and
comfy."
"You're all right, for a girl," remarked Reggie, and considered that he
had paid his little friend a very high compliment.
It was really only a short distance to the first of the great pyramids
which have been one of the wonders of the world for ages. In less than
ten minutes from the time they left the hotel, the children were in the
midst of a busy, chattering crowd, composed of tourists, donkey and
camel boys, sellers of mummy beads and other curiosities, and beggars
of every description. Such a scene would have frightened many children,
but a week in Cairo had accustomed Reggie and Phyllis to the strange
sights and sounds of the country, and on a visit paid to the pyramids
on the previous day, Mr. Starr had assured them there was nothing to be
afraid of. So Reggie pushed on manfully, holding firmly to Phyllis's
hand, until they stood in the shadow of the great Pyramid.
"My, but it's high!" exclaimed Reggie, gazing up at the mighty
structure. "Don't you wonder how they got all those great stones here,
and who put them up?"
"Perhaps the fairies did it by magic," suggested Phyllis, who had
not outgrown her belief in fairy tales, but Reggie looked scornfully
incredulous.
"Of course they didn't," he said with an air of superior wisdom. "Men
did it, but it was so long ago that nobody knows how they managed, or
what sort of machinery they had. I wish Daddy would let me climb to the
top."
"You might fall down and get killed," suggested the more prudent
Phyllis. "I wouldn't do it for anything."
"Of course you wouldn't. Girls are never brave. I could climb that
pyramid just as easy--as easy as anything, if Daddy would only let me."
"Well, he won't let you; he said so yesterday, so what's the use
talking about it? Besides, girls do brave things just as well as boys.
Nurse read me a story about a little girl who stopped a train, and
saved a great many people's lives."
At that moment they were accosted by a very objectionable looking
beggar who, in a whining voice, demanded "Backsheesh," which is the
Egyptian way of asking for pennies. Neither of them had any money,
so Reggie shook his head violently, while Phyllis retreated behind
her companion, not liking the beggar's appearance. The beggar scowled
fiercely, and muttering a few angry words, turned away in search of
more promising prey.
"He swore at us, Reggie, I'm sure he did," whispered Phyllis, who had
turned rather pale.
"How do you know it was swearing?" demanded Reggie, his eyes beginning
to flash.
"Because a beggar in Naples spoke just like that to Aunt Helen, when
she wouldn't give him any pennies, and she said it was swearing. I
don't like being sworn at. Let's hurry home."
"Hurry home!" repeated Reggie, incredulously. "Why, we haven't been
anywhere yet. We've got to go as far as the Sphinx."
"Oh, I don't believe we'd better, I really don't, Reggie. Suppose Nurse
and Ellen come back and don't find us, think how frightened they'll be.
I don't like to frighten people."
"I don't mind, at least not when they're such sillies as Ellen and
Nurse. Besides, they won't have long to be frightened. We'll go right
home just as soon as we've seen the Sphinx. Come along, and don't be a
goose."
Phyllis yielded. Reggie was the first little boy she had ever known
intimately in her life, and she was very anxious to stand well in
his good opinion. Besides, she had almost as much faith in Reggie's
judgment as in that of his father. A boy who was allowed, nay, even
encouraged by his parents, to ask questions, and who was allowed to
talk at the table, and to go out in the street alone, must, she was
convinced, be a very important young person indeed. If she refused to
go any further, the probabilities were that Reggie, in his turn, would
refuse to play with her for hours, if not days, and that would mean the
end of all things. So she stifled a sigh, and resolutely prepared to
follow her more venturesome companion.
The road from the hotel to the Pyramids was hard and comparatively easy
walking, but when they had turned their steps in the direction of the
mammoth stone figure, known to all the world as the Sphinx, they were
obliged to leave the path behind them, and plod through the deep sand
of the desert. It was difficult walking for the unaccustomed little
feet, and Phyllis was soon very tired, though not for worlds would she
have admitted the fact to Reggie.
"It seems much longer than it did when we were on the donkeys, doesn't
it?" she panted, plodding bravely on through the soft, yielding sand.
"Do you suppose it's much further?"
"It's right here," encouraged Reggie, cheerfully. "My, how you do pant!"
"I'm sorry I do, but I can't help it," said Phyllis, apologetically. "I
never walked in this kind of sand before. The sand at the seaside is
much harder."
Reggie made no answer. The fact was, he was finding the walk a more
difficult one than he liked, but he did not care to admit the fact to
his little companion.
A few minutes more, and they had reached their destination, and
were standing before the great figure, which has interested so many
thousands of people for centuries. It was very grand and awe inspiring,
with the rays of the setting sun falling full upon it, and even two
little children like Reggie and Phyllis could not but be impressed
with the wonder of it all. They had left the greater part of the crowd
behind, and only a few natives were loitering about. One man wanted to
sell them some mummy beads, and another offered to tell their fortunes,
but when Reggie shook his head, and said "Imshie," a word he had heard
their dragoman use, and which he believed meant "go away," they both
moved on, and the children were left in peace.
"It seems as if the Sphinx must be thinking about something, doesn't
it?" said Phyllis, in an awed whisper, and she drew a little nearer to
her companion as she spoke.
"Do you suppose it was alive once, and some wicked fairy turned it into
stone?"
"I don't know," said Reggie. "It must have been a giant if it ever was
alive. Daddy says nobody knows who made it. It was buried in the sand
for hundreds of years, and at last some people found it and dug it out.
It kept getting covered again for a long time, and they had to keep
digging it out, but now they don't let it happen any more."
"I think it must be getting rather late," said Phyllis, with an anxious
glance at the setting sun. "Oh, Reggie, look at that sunset! Did you
ever see such a beautiful one?"
"It is pretty, isn't it?" said Reggie, who was not as much interested
in sunsets as he was in some other things. "I wonder what makes the sky
look like that."
"I don't know," said Phyllis, reflectively. "Perhaps God has a golden
lamp in his dining-room, and the angels light it every evening at
supper time, only cloudy nights we can't see it. I don't believe they
ever have cloudy nights in Egypt; the sky always looks so blue."
"I guess perhaps we'd better not stay here any longer," said Reggie,
with a sudden recollection. "It gets dark pretty soon after the sun
sets."
Phyllis looked a little frightened.
"I shouldn't like to be out after dark," she said. "Were you ever out
by yourself after dark?"
"No, I never happened to be," Reggie admitted, reluctantly. "I wouldn't
be a bit afraid, though. Come along; I guess we'd better hurry a
little."
But it was no easy matter to hurry in that soft sand, and though they
both plodded along bravely, they seemed to make but little progress.
"I didn't notice the sand was so deep when we came, did you?" panted
Reggie, when they had been walking for fully ten minutes in silence,
and the sand appeared to be growing softer and more yielding at every
step. "No, I didn't," said Phyllis, suddenly stopping short. "Are you
sure we're going the right way, Reggie?"
"Of course we are," said Reggie. "There isn't but one way to go, and
it's so flat you can see for ever so far." But he looked a little
startled at the suggestion, nevertheless.
They plodded on for another five minutes, and then suddenly, to
Reggie's utter horror and consternation, Phyllis sat flat down in the
sand and began to cry.
"I can't walk any more," she sobbed; "my feet are so tired, and my
shoes are all full of sand. Besides, I'm quite sure this isn't the way
back to the hotel."
Reggie was filled with dismay.
"Well of all the sillies!" he began. "Look here, Phyllis, you've got to
come on. We can't stay here. It's getting later all the time, and it's
going to be dark in a few minutes."
"I don't want to stay here," wailed poor little Phyllis. "I want to go
back to the hotel, but we're lost, I know we are, and it's so hard to
walk in this dreadful sand."
"No, we're not lost either," Reggie maintained, stoutly. "I know the
way all right, and if you'll only stop being a silly, and come along,
we'll be home in a few minutes."
Thus urged, Phyllis rose and dried her eyes. Then she looked about
hopelessly.
"Which way did we come?" she inquired. "It all looks just the same,
and those big sand hills hide everything, so we can't tell whether
we've been here before or not."
Reggie was secretly a good deal troubled, but he assumed a cheerful
confidence, and they trudged on for another five minutes. Then it was
Reggie himself who paused.
"I guess we'd better ask somebody the way," he said. "I shouldn't like
to take you too far."
"But there isn't anybody to ask," said Phyllis, looking across the wide
stretch of sand, on which, at the moment, there was not a human being
to be seen. "Besides, those horrid Arabs don't understand any English.
Oh, Reggie, what shall we do?" And Phyllis began to cry again.
"We may meet some English people if we keep on a little further," said
Reggie, bravely determined to look on the bright side of things. "There
were plenty of them around by the Pyramids. Besides, some of the Arabs
do speak English. That man who wanted to tell our fortunes talked all
right."
"But suppose we don't meet any people at all, what shall we do then? We
can't stay out here all night, and everybody will be so frightened if
we don't come home soon."
"I know they will," said Reggie, looking grave. "I wish we hadn't
come, but it seemed so easy; I never thought of getting lost. I'm glad
Daddy and Mother won't get home till late. I shouldn't like Mother to
be frightened."
"What are you going to do about it?" inquired Phyllis, instinctively
turning to the stronger nature for guidance.
Reggie reflected for a moment, and glanced anxiously at the rapidly
deepening twilight.
"I guess we'd better keep on," he said. "We may meet somebody in a few
minutes, and perhaps we're going the right way all the time. I wish it
didn't get dark quite so soon after the sun goes down. It never does
that way at home."
For another ten minutes they struggled on. Then, suddenly from over the
top of a low sand hill, they caught sight of a cluster of native mud
huts. Reggie gave vent to a sort of relief.
"Now we shall find some people," he announced joyfully. "I knew it
would be all right if we just kept on a little longer."
But Phyllis was not so easily pleased.
"I don't like to go down there," she protested, drawing back; "it looks
so very dirty."
"Never mind," said Reggie, encouragingly. "They won't hurt us, and
we'll only have to stay long enough to ask some one to tell us the way
back to the hotel. Come on!" And to Phyllis's horror, her companion
began running down the sand hill, into the very midst of the native
village. She was afraid to be left alone, so she followed, with a
wildly beating heart, and almost before either of them realized what
was happening to them, they were the centre of a group of excited
native children, who in their astonishment at finding a little white
boy and girl suddenly in their midst, swarmed about them like so many
flies.
"Backsheesh, backsheesh, backsheesh!" screamed the little Arabs,
stretching out their grimy hands.
"Imshie, imshie!" shouted Reggie, indignantly, waving them away, and
trying to protect Phyllis's dainty white dress from too close contact
with the objectionable little natives. "We haven't got any backsheesh,
and you mustn't crowd so much, it isn't polite. Isn't there anybody
here who can speak English?"
The children stared, and began chattering very fast, but neither Reggie
nor Phyllis could understand a word of what they said. At last one of
the larger boys seized Reggie by the arm, and began dragging him along
with him. Phyllis screamed with terror, but Reggie stood his ground
manfully.
"I think he's only going to take us to somebody who talks English," he
said, reassuringly. "I guess we'd better go with him."
Phyllis did not feel at all sure that her companion was right, but she
was far too much frightened to be left alone in that dreadful place,
so she, too, followed. The boy led them to one of the mud huts, the
entrance to which was so low that it was necessary to creep in on all
fours. He said something to somebody inside; there was an answer, and
then the boy stood aside, and made a sign to the children to enter.
Phyllis screamed again, and grasped Reggie's arm firmly.
"You shan't go in that dreadful place!" she cried in terror. "Perhaps
they're cannibals, and will eat us up. Oh, please come away, please do!"
At that moment, there emerged from the hut a boy of about twelve,
dressed in the native costume, and leaning on a stick. He was evidently
lame, for he moved very slowly, and with great difficulty, but he was
smiling pleasantly, and he bowed low to the two little strangers.
"I can English story tell," he said in a sweet, clear voice. "I in
English school go."
"Oh, do you?" cried Reggie, in a tone of heartfelt relief. "I'm so glad
to find somebody who talks English. Will you please tell us the way
back to the Pyramids and the hotel? I'm afraid we're lost, and it's
getting so late."
The lame boy listened courteously, and continued to smile. When Reggie
had finished speaking he went on quietly.
"The sun shines in the sky by day. The moon shines in the sky by night.
The sun is warm. The sun makes the flowers to grow. The moon is cold.
The moon does not make grow the beautiful flowers."
The boy paused, still smiling, and waited patiently for praise or
backsheesh, whichever might be forthcoming. Reggie was very much
puzzled.
"I asked you the way back to the hotel," he said rather indignantly.
"We know all about the sun and the moon; you needn't tell us that."
The boy bowed courteously, and murmured something in his own language.
"I don't believe he knows any more English," exclaimed Reggie, with a
sudden inspiration. "He's learned that in school, the same as we learn
French fables."
"He must know more than that," declared Phyllis, desperately. "Perhaps
he'll understand if we talk broken English to him--the kind Abdul
talks. We lost, boy; we want go back hotel."
A light of comprehension dawned in the boy's face, but he shook his
head sadly. Evidently his small stock of English had already been
exhausted.
"O dear! what shall we do now?" cried Phyllis, beginning to cry again
in her despair. "None of them speak English."
Reggie looked helpless, but made one more effort.
"Show us hotel," he said, still clinging desperately to Phyllis's
broken English. "My father give big backsheesh."
At the words, "my father," the boy smiled brightly.
"My father can English story tell," he announced, proudly.
Reggie was somewhat relieved, but Phyllis said mournfully--
"If it's all about the sun and the moon I don't see any use."
"Where is your father?" inquired Reggie, anxiously.
The boy seemed to understand this question, for he smiled again and
pointed out over the desert.
"I suppose he means his father is somewhere out there," said Reggie. "I
wish we knew how soon he'll be back."
"I don't see what good it would do if he came home," said Phyllis, with
a sob. "Perhaps he only knows fables, too. Let's come away from here;
it's a horrid place."
But Reggie was of a different opinion.
"I guess we'd better wait a little while," he said, "in case his father
does come home. He may be able to understand what we want, and we can't
go back to the hotel by ourselves; we don't know the way, and it's
getting very dark."
Phyllis burst into an uncontrollable fit of crying.
"I don't want to stay here," she wailed. "It's so dirty, and--and
awful, and I'm afraid--oh, Reggie, I'm so afraid!"
To tell the truth, Reggie was more than a little afraid himself, but he
made a mighty effort to appear quite at his ease.
"Pooh!" he remarked scornfully. "I'm not afraid. I'd much rather stay
here where people are, than out on the desert by ourselves. Besides,
there isn't anything to be afraid of. I won't let anybody hurt you."
Phyllis gazed at her companion through her tears, and a look of
profound admiration replaced the expression of hopeless misery on her
face.
"You are a very brave boy," she said in a tone of conviction, not
unmixed with awe. "Aren't you really the least little bit afraid?"
Reggie was conscious of a sensation of embarrassment. He was a
truthful boy, and he did not like the idea of deceiving his little
friend. Still, he reflected that if he let Phyllis suspect that he was
frightened, she would naturally be more unhappy than she already was.
So he took refuge in a slight prevarication.
"Boys are never afraid of things like girls," he announced,
confidently. "Mother's always getting worried about all kinds of
things, but Daddy never bothers. Let's sit down. I'm pretty tired,
aren't you?"
Phyllis looked about her, as if in search of something.
"There isn't anything to sit on," she said.
"There's the ground," said Reggie, promptly seating himself as he
spoke. "All the people here sit on the ground."
"But the ground is so dirty, and Nurse will make such a fuss if I soil
my dress," protested Phyllis.
"Bother Nurse! Nobody cares whether she fusses or not. Besides, your
dress isn't very clean any more. I guess it'll have to go in the wash
when we get home."
Phyllis glanced at the pretty white muslin, which had been so clean and
fresh only a few hours before, and heaved a sigh, as she reluctantly
seated herself on the ground by Reggie's side. The lame boy, evidently
understanding their intention to await his father's return, bowed and
smiled once more, and sat down on the ground opposite his visitors. The
other native children, who had been watching proceedings with interest,
finding there was nothing exciting going on, began to drop off one
after another, and were soon intent on their own affairs once more.
Then followed a long time of waiting. If they hadn't been so tired
and anxious, the children might have found the scene before them very
curious and interesting. It certainly was different from anything they
had ever imagined in their lives before. The news that two little
Europeans had taken shelter in the native village soon spread, and the
inhabitants flocked from their mud huts to look at them. They were
principally women and children, but there were a few men as well, and
they all stared as if the sight of a little white girl in a muslin
dress, and a little white boy in a sailor suit, sitting in front of
a mud hut, was a very extraordinary sight indeed. The lame boy had
constituted himself their guardian. He never moved from his seat, but
whenever a native attempted to approach the children too closely, he
waved his stick, and shouted such violent language that the intruders
speedily withdrew to a safe distance.
"I think he's swearing at them," whispered Phyllis, looking very much
shocked, but to her astonishment, Reggie, whom she had always regarded
as a very good little boy, replied promptly--
"I don't know, but I hope he is, if that's what keeps them away."
"But it's wicked to swear, Reggie; Nurse says people who do it won't go
to Heaven."
"Well, he's a nice boy, anyway," maintained Reggie, "and we don't know
that he's swearing. Perhaps he's only telling them to keep away. Oh,
look at that little girl with a baby in her arms. She isn't much bigger
than you."
A little girl of perhaps nine or ten, had just emerged from the mud
hut before which they were sitting. She carried a fat baby in her arms,
and although very scantily clad, and decidedly dirty, she struck the
children as the most prepossessing native they had yet seen.
"She's pretty, isn't she?" whispered Phyllis. "I suppose the baby is
her little brother or sister, and she's taking care of it while her
mother gets supper."
[Illustration: "SHE'S PRETTY, ISN'T SHE?" WHISPERED PHYLLIS.]
She smiled pleasantly at the native child, who in her turn, stared with
round eyes of amazement at the two little strangers, and exchanged
rapid remarks with the lame boy, of which the children were evidently
the subject. Suddenly she deposited the baby unceremoniously upon
the ground, and disappeared once more within the mud hut. Phyllis
and Reggie, accustomed to the ways of English and American babies,
fully expected the little native to set up a howl of wrath, at being
so suddenly left to its own resources, but to their surprise, it did
not seem in the least disturbed, but promptly began rolling over and
over in the sand, kicking its little bare, black legs in the air, and
uttering shrieks of delight.
"Oh, isn't it cunning!" cried Phyllis, everything else forgotten for
the moment in this new interest. "I wonder if it would let me hold it."
"Don't you touch it," warned Reggie. "It's awfully dirty, and there's
something queer the matter with its eyes."
"It isn't so very dirty, and it can't help its poor little eyes. Oh,
Reggie, look, it can creep; it's coming over here."
It was true. The baby evidently attracted by something in the
appearance of the two little white strangers, was making its way on
all fours rapidly in their direction. In another moment, Phyllis,
regardless of Reggie's disapproval, had dragged it into her lap. The
lame boy appeared well pleased, for he smiled and nodded, and murmured,
half to himself and half to the children--
"The moon shines in the sky by day. The sun shines in the sky by night."
"He's got it wrong this time," said Reggie. "He says the moon shines in
the sky by day. Oh, I do wish he knew some more English!"
But Phyllis was too much absorbed with the dirty little Arab to pay any
heed.
"I don't believe it makes any difference what language you talk to
babies in," she said. "They don't understand one any better than
another. Oh, see, Reggie, it's putting its finger in its mouth, just
the way babies do at home."
At this moment, the little sister, or whatever she was, once more came
out of the hut. She carried in her hands a large cake of the hard
Egyptian bread, which forms almost the only food of the poorer classes
on The Nile, and at sight of Phyllis with the baby in her lap, she,
too, smiled and nodded in the same pleased way as the lame boy had done.
"I think they must like us," said Phyllis. "I wish we could talk to the
little girl. I want to ask her the baby's name."
Conversation being out of the question, Phyllis was forced to content
herself with nods and smiles, which were, perhaps, just as satisfactory
under the circumstances. The girl proceeded to break the enormous
cake into several pieces, one of which she handed to the boy, who
immediately began eating it, with evident relish. Then she approached
Phyllis, and smilingly held out a piece to her.
"Must we take it, do you think?" whispered Phyllis, instinctively
drawing back. "It doesn't look at all nice."
"I guess we'd better," returned Reggie, also in a whisper. "They might
be offended if we didn't." And he accepted the proffered offering with
as good grace as he could assume.
"I really don't think I can possibly eat it," said Phyllis, regarding
the unpalatable looking food distastefully. "Do you suppose this is all
the supper they're going to have? Oh, the baby wants it; I'm afraid
it'll choke itself."
But the baby's guardian evidently did not share Phyllis's
apprehensions, for she immediately began breaking the bread into small
pieces, and cramming them into the baby's mouth.
"Oh, I know it's going to choke," cried Phyllis, in dismay. "Why don't
you give it a bottle?" she added, in her excitement quite forgetting
the fact that the Arab child spoke no English.
"Don't be a silly," remarked Reggie, contemptuously. "I don't suppose
Egyptian babies ever have bottles."
"But they haven't got any more teeth than our babies have," persisted
Phyllis, still feeling very much worried. "I'm sure this one is going
to choke in a minute."
But, strange to say, the baby did not choke. On the contrary, it
appeared to be enjoying its peculiar meal very much, and in the
fascination of watching it, Phyllis and Reggie for the moment forgot
everything else. Then suddenly, a dreadful noise fell upon their ears.
It was a succession of piercing shrieks, and turning in the direction
from whence they came, the children saw, to their horror, first a
ragged boy running as if for life, and then a tall man, hotly pursuing
him, and brandishing a thick stick. The boy ran fast, but the man ran
still faster, and before the children had realized what it all meant,
he had reached his victim, seized him in a firm grasp, and was beating
him with such violence that his shrieks increased in volume, and soon
changed to howls of pain.
The villagers looked on calmly enough, some of them even laughing
at the poor boy's discomfiture, but not so Reggie and Phyllis. With
a scream, almost as loud as the boy's own, Phyllis was on her feet,
letting the baby roll over face downward in the sand, and next moment
she was running out of the village with flying feet, closely followed
by Reggie.