CHAPTER XV.

IN THE DESERT.

Allan had heard of Private Thomas Keith, of the 72nd Highlanders,

who, after being taken prisoner in Egypt in 1807, rose to the rank of

Aga of the Mamelukes and Governor of Medina; but the prospects of

promotion in the desert, held out to him by Zeid, did not prove very

attractive; and here we may mention that the name of Zeid is of great

antiquity, for it was that of the adopted son of Mohammed, whom he

placed on the Black Stone of the Caaba, and to whom he gave a wife

named Zinab.

Zeid's wife had already suggested that Allan should have his head

shaved, and that a turban or tarboosh should be substituted for his

tropical helmet, with its red 42nd hackle; so he began to think that

something must be done to put an end to this life of idleness and

annoyance.

At times he thought he would affect to fall into the views of

Zeid-el-Ourdeh; get the blood mare and put a burnous over his

regimental jacket and kilt, and--leaving the 'Bedouin girl' out of

the category--take an opportunity of trying the speed of the said

mare, and escaping.

But the time for departing further into the desert drew near, and no

mare was given him; he had, however, the offer of a camel, but that

would not do at all.

He thought of the distress his disappearance must cause his

family--if deemed dead, their sorrow; and ere long the deletion of

his name from the army list, and from his position in what he deemed

a family regiment, and the whole complication of the situation

maddened him.

In that Bedouin band were hundreds of dusky robbers with whom he had

not eaten the mystic bread and salt of the East, and who owed him

neither favour nor protection; and thus the grotesque views and

oppressive friendship of Zeid might fail to secure his life at their

hands.

He knew that they would think no more of killing him than of killing

a kid, and he recalled with sufficient disgust the swift catastrophe

of the wretched Holcroft.

When rambling on the skirts of the black tented camp, under close

surveillance, however, Allan observed that the tomb of the Santon had

a remarkably broad and peculiar cornice round its dome, that it was

curved upward like the rim of a billycock hat, and that a vine

tendril of considerable strength had ascended, in the lapse of years,

from the base to the summit of the dome; and thus he conceived, if he

could ascend thereinto unseen, he might lie _en perdue_, till the

tribe departed, and then he should be safe.

The day before the tents were to be struck, Zeid ordered some food to

be procured by his huntsmen, who--though the food of the tribe was

generally farinaceous--succeeded in capturing some of these gazelles

that live in the open plain, where they browse upon the saline and

pungent herbage.

Fully experienced in the haunts and habits of these animals, Abdallah

and others concealed themselves in a hollow dug out of the sand and

carefully covered over with brambles, and there they captured their

prey by means of a rude network attached to stakes--the former being

slightly concealed in the sand, and raised by means of a rope pulled

when a number of the herd has ventured within its precincts. Thus

twenty or thirty of these beautiful creatures, with their bright

hazel eyes, spiral horns, and slender limbs were taken at a time.

The gun was used only when other means failed, as ammunition is too

costly for ordinary occasions in obtaining the supplies of food.

Allan, while hovering about the huntsmen, effected a final

reconnaisance of the Santon's tomb, and resolved to make the attempt

that very night.

When sudden darkness fell as usual, instantly after sunset, and no

moon as yet had risen, while Zeid and his family were busy with their

final ablutions and prayers, Allan--his bold heart beating wildly the

while--crept softly out of the tent, under the uplifted canvas wall

thereof, and crawling flatly on his hands and knees, with the blade

of his drawn sword in his teeth, began to leave the hated encampment

behind him.

It was a time of keen and poignant excitement. Every moment he

expected to hear an outcry announcing that he was missed from his

place, or seen even amid the gloom and obscurity, by the keen eye of

some practised son of the desert.

Fortunately all were at their prayers or engaged in preparations for

departure on the morrow, and, as the distance increased between

himself and the dark camp, his spirit began to rise, and he thought

to himself, why had he not made this attempt before? But, sooth to

say, it would have been impossible, as he was less watched latterly

than he had been at first.

Even at the distance of half-a-mile he did not assume an erect

attitude, lest his figure might be seen between the sky and horizon,

but continued to creep steadily on, till at last he ventured to rise

from the ground, and strode swiftly towards the tomb of the Santon,

which was about two miles from the camp.

The stars were coming out now, and a sigh of relief escaped him as he

reached it--a sigh that ended in an exclamation of dismay as a tall

Bedouin, who seemed to spring from the ground, so sudden was his

appearance, stood face to face with him, and in a moment he

recognised Abdallah, the second in command under Zeid!

He perceived Allan's sword in his hand, and, knowing that he was

escaping, drew a pistol from his girdle--a pistol the explosion of

which would have proved most disastrous, but by one trenchant stroke

Allan hewed the Arab's left hand off by the wrist, and hand and

pistol fell on the sand together.

Muttering a terrible malediction, the Bedouin, wrapping the bleeding

stump in the folds of his burnous, furiously assailed Allan with his

formidable sabre, shouting, as he did so, something to this purpose:--

'Unbelieving wretch, you shall go from hence to hell, where your

hands will be chained to your neck, and you will be compelled to

oppose your face to the flames.'

'Oho!' thought Allan, 'the Koran again!'

If he had time or means to give an alarm, all would be over.

It was a life for a life now, and both men fought desperately; both

were expert swordsmen, and both were filled with blackest fury--the

Bedouin by the agony of his wound, and Allan by the peril which

menaced him.

After pausing to draw breath for a moment, Abdallah came rushing on

with blind rage; Allan warded a cut, and, closing in, caught his

sword-hand by the wrist and held it with an iron grasp; then,

adroitly dropping the basket hilt of the claymore from his right

hand, he caught the shortened blade and plunged it, dagger fashion,

into the breast of the Arab, who fell at his feet and expired.

Inspired by an instant thought, he dragged the dead body away, and

the hand and pistol also, to some distance from the vicinity of the

tomb, and, returning, proceeded stealthily and speedily, if worn,

breathless, and feeling rather sick by his recent work, to climb by

the branches of the vine up the wall of the circular edifice, and

over its heavily curved cornice, behind which he crouched down flat,

and there he lay for hours, exposed to a shower of rain, the fall of

which he hailed with thankfulness, as it would obliterate any traces

of blood in his vicinity, and also his footmarks from the bruised

branches of the vine which he had used as a ladder.

He knew that, if retaken now, the discovery of Abdallah's fate would

seal his own; so, if found, nothing was left him but to die sword in

hand.

Each respiration came heavily, as he lay there listening for every

passing sound, and wondering how he had achieved the first chapter of

his escape, and all the bloody and necessary work so well.

Strange it was that his hand should avenge the miserable Holcroft;

but he did not think of that till afterwards; nor did he think of the

too baleful effect the wet and damp of the Egyptian night might have

upon his own health.

At length the rain ceased, and the blue dome of heaven appeared in

all its wondrous beauty--for wondrous indeed it is by the shores of

the Nile, though this was in the first season of the Egyptian year,

when the weather is generally moist.

But the sky is so cloudless, and the brightness of the moon so

intense, that the natives, when sleeping in the open air, as they

often do, cover their eyes, as the effect of the moon's rays upon the

sight is more dangerous and violent than that of the sun.

No sleep, however, visited the eyes of Allan that night; he remained

without desire to close them, preternaturally, acutely, and painfully

awake, and watchful as a lynx.

It was all as Allan anticipated. Day had scarcely dawned, and the

striking of the tents begun, ere he was conscious that his absence

was discovered, and more than a hundred swiftly-mounted horsemen,

with cries and shouts, darted from the camp in every direction around

it in search, and, if afoot, he must inevitably have been overtaken;

but, concealed where he was, he lay in safety, though his heart

throbbed so violently that he seemed to hear its pulsations, as he

heard the Bedouins, at full speed, pass and repass the Santon's tomb,

with guns and rifles unslung, intent on his recapture and destruction.

He clenched the hilt of his claymore. If traced to where he lay--if

discovered--he could but sell his life, and dearly did he resolve to

do so!

He heard their voices, their surmises, their suggestions, and their

threats; and lucky it was for him that the rain and subsequently the

heavy dew, of the past night had obliterated the traces of his

footsteps near the tomb and on the tendrils of the vine, also the

traces of the blood of Abdallah, the discovery of whose body was

greeted by yells of rage that pierced the air; but the rain and the

dew were ere long to have a baleful effect on Allan in the time to

come.

At last the riders seemed to give up the search as hopeless, and by

twos and threes came slowly back to camp, with horses weary and

bridles loose. After mid-day, the tents were finally struck, stowed

away, with all household utensils, on the backs of camels and horses,

and the whole tribe of Zeid-el-Ourdeh took its departure in a

north-easterly direction, towards the great desert, through which

lies the route taken by Bonaparte in 1799, and, before evening fell,

the last of them, like black specks, were alone visible, and ere long

they quite disappeared from view.

Now Allan, worn and weary, after a day without food or drink, slept

for a time, and the moon, clear, bright, and refulgent, was high in

the heavens when he prepared to descend from his lurking place.

He looked keenly, anxiously, and carefully round him, as it was

possible that some of the Bedouins might return to their late

camping-ground for some object of their own; and, moreover, others

were to be avoided quite as much as they.

No living thing was visible, and the most awful silence seemed to

reign around him.

Allan descended from his perch, stiff, benumbed, and well-nigh

powerless, to begin his lonely and perilous journey; but whither?

Ignorant of the country and of the way to pursue, he knew not that

the canal which leads from Belbeis to Grand Cairo lay on his left;

and after toiling on without adventure for a few days and nights,

subsisting on dates, wild-beans, and lotus-roots, with a little water

from an occasional spring, he found himself, weary, worn, and faint,

with pains in his head and loins, and shivering in his limbs--the

forerunners of a deadly illness--crossing what is the camel-route to

Suez, as he penetrated into another portion of the desert.

He saw occasionally vultures, storks, and pelicans; and now and then

a herd of beautiful antelopes swept past him; but--as he thanked

heaven--no Bedouins. More than once he came upon nitre springing up

in the sandy waste, like crystallised fruit. At times these spots

seemed as if overgrown by moss and coated with hoar frost--hoar frost

under a fervid Egyptian sun; and according to the quantity of the

nitre, their fantastic shapes were either a dazzling white, or more

or less tinted by the yellow hue of the sand.

More than once in his fitful slumbers by night under the baleful dew,

there came before him in a dream the agony of his lurking on the

summit of the tomb in momentary dread of discovery, and then he was

again closing in combat hand-in-hand with Abdallah, the aspect of

whose dark face, with gleaming eyes and glistening teeth, curiously

blended with an idea of Holcroft, came vividly before him; and then,

when just in the act of plunging in his shortened sword-blade, he

would awake with a nervous start to find himself still in solitude

with quiet stars looking down upon him.

At last when about to sink he saw before him the well-known fringes

of greenery and foliage that indicate the line of a canal, and it

proved to be a portion of that of Moses, and a cry of joy escaped him

when he heard the whistle of a locomotive and saw the welcome smoke

of a train running westward.

How much the sound and sight we deem alike so hideous spoke to his

heart of home, of ease, of peace, safety, and civilisation. In

short, he soon discovered that he was midway between Kassassin and

Mahsameh and by a liberal promise of backsheesh to an Egyptian

labourer whom he met, and whose assistance he solicited, he reached a

railway station and obtained all the succour he needed from the

European officials there.

By them he was placed in a train for Ismailia, and ere long he saw

once more those places which were familiar to him as having passed

them with the troops--Ramses, Tel-el-Mahuta, and El-Magfar, where the

Black Watch had encamped, and where he had befriended Zeid-el-Ourdeh;

and ere long he could recognise, when he had left the sea of sand

behind him, the white-walled houses of Ismailia against the deep blue

of the sky, and the tall forest of masts, those of our transports and

warships in the adjoining lake of Timsah.

He had no recollection of more, or even of reaching the railway

station. His heart beat wildly, his head swam round him, and a

darkness seemed to envelop him. He had fainted.

On partially recovering he found himself in bed, but he knew not

where, and dimly seen, as in a glass, he thought he saw Evan Cameron

bending over him--Evan looking pale and wan as when he buried him in

the sand.

'Oh, God,' sighed Allan, as he closed his eyes to shut the vision

out, 'is this madness or delirium that has come upon me?'

The Master of Aberfeldie, Volume 3 (of 3) · 第 15 / 18 章