GEGE-MERAK.
After breakfast Uncle Naboth, the Professor, and I rowed ashore and
landed on the primitive wooden quay, whence we proceeded to the town—a
group of mud dwellings, palm thatched, standing on a small eminence near
the bay. At the left of the town were several large storehouses
belonging to the government, where tithes of grain were kept.
A silent but observant group of natives met us on shore and accompanied
us up the path to one of the principal houses, where Van Dorn, who
understood Arabic, informed us the sheik and cadi awaited our coming.
After a brief delay we were ushered into a low but spacious room where
the light was so dim that at first I could see nothing. Presently,
however, my eyes grew accustomed to the gloom and I made out a big,
whiskered Arab sitting cross-legged on a mat and surrounded by a group
of friends and advisors.
To my relief they spoke English; brokenly, yet sufficiently well to be
understood; and the sheik in most polite phrases begged to know why we
had honored his poor village by a visit.
The Professor explained that our vessel was bound for India, but that
some of our party had an errand at Luxor and we wished to secure a
guide, an armed escort, and some good camels, to form a caravan to cross
the desert and return. The ship would wait in the harbor until we had
accomplished our journey.
They listened to this story respectfully. We were Americans, they
judged. Only Americans in Egypt were credited with doing unusual things.
An Englishman or other foreigner would have taken the railway to Luxor
by way of Cairo.
But they had no desire to grumble at our strange whim. To keep the ship
in their harbor a week longer would mean more or less patronage of the
village bazar as well as harbor fees for the sheik. The caravan across
the desert would mean good earnings for many worthy citizens, no doubt.
But just here they seemed to scent difficulties. The Arabs talked
together earnestly in their own language, and the Professor explained to
us in an anxious voice that guides were scarce in Koser just then. The
best, a famous Arab Bedouin, had gone west to the mines on a three
weeks’ journey. Another had just departed to take a party to Kift. The
third and last one available was lying ill with a fever. There was no
trouble about camels; the sheik had himself several superior animals to
offer, and a neighbor chief of the Bega Bedouins owned a splendid drove
and could furnish any number required. But the guide was lacking, and a
guide was absolutely necessary; for the desert was trackless and
infested by _haramyeh_, or robbers.
That seemed to settle the matter, to the great grief of the sheik; but
the little Professor protested most vigorously that he had to go, and
that a way must be found to secure for us a competent guide. Extra money
would be available in the emergency, he added, and the hint set the
dirty bearded Arabs conferring again. They talked in Arabic, and I heard
the name of Gege-Merak[1] mentioned several times. The Professor,
listening intently, told me this was the Bega chief who owned the
camels. Gege-Merak had once been the most famous guide on the desert,
but he was now old, and had retired from active life years ago. Still,
if there was plenty of money to tempt him, he might be induced
personally to lead us to Luxor and back.
The discussion resulted in a messenger being dispatched to Gege-Merak,
who lived a day’s journey in the desert, to propose our offer and bring
back the chief’s reply. There would be nine of our own party, and we
desired an escort of six armed natives, besides the guide.
The delay was inevitable, and we waited as patiently as we could for the
messenger’s return. That evening we entertained the sheik and his chief
men at dinner aboard the ship, and before they returned to the shore
they vowed undying friendship for us all, including Nux and Bryonia. My
father’s cork leg especially won their admiration and respect, and they
declared he must be a very great and famous Captain in his own country
to be entrusted with the command of so noble and so beautiful a ship. We
told them he was. The Professor added that next to the President himself
all Americans revered Captain Steele, who had won many battles fighting
against his country’s enemies. I was amused at this absurd description,
but it afterward served us a good turn, and perhaps preserved our lives.
The next day we visited the bazar, where unimportant articles were
offered for sale, and as the sheik was himself the principal owner we
purchased considerable rubbish that we had no use for, just to keep the
rascals good natured.
On the third day, at about sunset, the messenger returned, and to our
surprise he was accompanied by a train of fifteen camels—all fine,
strong specimens of these desert steeds.
He had brought bad news for the sheik, though. Gege-Merak had consented
to guide the strangers in person, but he would supply all the camels,
tents, and blankets himself, and receive all the hire for them.
Moreover, the armed escort must be all from his own tribe; no dog of an
Arab should have anything to do with his caravan.
The sheik frowned, cursed the impudent Bega, and swore he would not
allow his dear friends, the Americans, to fall into Gege-Merak’s power.
Uncle Naboth and I went out and examined the escort. They were handsome,
well-formed fellows, with good features and dark, bronze hued
complexions. Their limbs were slender and almost delicately formed, yet
promised strength and agility. I decided at once that these men looked
less like robbers than the stealthy-eyed, sly-moving Arabs of the
village.
The Ababdeh—for the Bega warriors belonged to this caste—sat their
camels stolidly and in silence, awaiting the acceptance or rejection of
the offer of their chieftain. They were dressed in coarse woolen robes
colored in brilliant native hues, but they wore no head covering except
their luxuriant, bushy hair, which formed a perfect cloud around their
faces and seemed to me nearly a foot in thickness. In their girdles were
short knives and each man carried slung across his back a long, slender
rifle with an elaborately engraved silver stock.
My uncle agreed with me that the escort looked manly and brave. We
concluded there was a way to satisfy the sheik, so we went back to him
and offered to pay a liberal sum for his permission to engage
Gege-Merak. He graciously consented, although he warned us that the
desert Bega were not the safest people in the world to intrust with our
lives and that only the fear of consequences would prevent the Ababdeh
chief from murdering us and rifling our bodies.
The Professor, however, had no such fears. He confided to us his opinion
that we were fortunate in having no Arabs in our party. In case we
chanced to encounter Abdul Hashim, the Bega would be more likely to
prove faithful than would the Koser Arabs. All Arabs hate Christians in
their hearts, added the Professor, and most of the desert tribes, who
had existed in Egypt long before the Arabs overran the country, hated
the Mussulmans as much as the latter hated the Christians. The Ababdeh
tribes were natural thieves; he could not deny that; but he had reason
to hope for our safe return from our adventure.
For my part I pinned my faith to our stalwart escort of American
sailors, thinking in my pride and ignorance that any one of them would
be worth six Bega or Arabs if it came to a fight, and forgetting that
the desert is a prison to those who do not know its trackless wilds.
Desiring as little delay as possible we loaded the camels that evening
with provisions from our ship and the light baggage, taking no more of
the latter than was absolutely necessary. Bryonia, who was going with
the party, insisted on carrying certain pots and pans with which to
provide proper meals while en route, and these the Bega looked upon with
absolute disdain. But I was glad to see our cook’s provision for our
comfort, since we were to be gone eight or nine days at the least.
Next morning we mounted the camels and set out. After some careful
figuring we had organized our party as follows: The Professor first, of
course; then Uncle Naboth, Archie Ackley, Joe, and myself. My father
made some objection to three boys joining the party, but it was an
adventure in which any boy would be eager to participate, and Joe begged
so hard to go along and was so devoted to me personally that I argued
the matter until Captain Steele gave in and consented. My father thought
he could not ride a camel in comfort because of his cork leg, so he
remained aboard to look after the ship. He let Ned Britton join us,
though, and three sailors, all loyal fellows and splendid specimens of
American manhood. This completed our party of nine. We were all armed
with revolvers and repeating rifles, and felt that in case of attack or
interference we could give a good account of ourselves.
The weather was warm at this season, but when we started, soon after
dawn, a gentle breeze was coming over the desert and we set out in good
spirits in spite of the fact that the motion of the camels caused us to
sway awkwardly in our tall saddles. We should get used to this motion in
time, the Professor assured us; but at first it jolted us terribly.
It seemed as if the entire population of the village had assembled to
see us start, and from their looks they evidently considered us little
less than madmen. The sheik wished us a safe journey and promised in the
hearing of the Bega to avenge us in case we met with treachery; but at
the same time, he told the Professor privately, he refused to guarantee
our savage escort in any particular.
Bidding my father and the crew of the _Seagull_ a cheery farewell, we
left Koser and began our journey across the desert.
The Ababdeh were silent fellows, but when I questioned them I found that
at least two of their number understood and spoke English fairly well.
They did not waste words in expressing themselves, but seemed
intelligent and respectful in their demeanor toward us.
Our progress the first day was slow, for the way was across heavy sands
that tired the camels to walk upon. We made a halt for luncheon and at
about sundown reached the encampment of the Bega chief, Gege-Merak. It
was situated on a tiny oasis of the desert, which boasted a well of good
water and a group of a dozen tall spreading date-palms. Under the palms
were set the chief houses of the village, made of mud and thatched with
palm leaves; but the huts of the people extended also out upon the
desert, on all sides of the oasis. These mainly consisted of low walls
of mud roofed with squares of canvas, and none save the house of the
chieftain was high enough for a man to stand upright within it.
[Illustration: The village in the oasis.]
I was surprised at the number of this isolated tribe of Bega, and it was
a wonder to me how they all managed to subsist. They had many goats and
camels and a small herd of buffalo-cows—too many, seemingly, to crop the
scant herbage of the oasis; but there was no attempt at agriculture that
I could discover.
We halted before the house of the chief, and after conferring together
our escort conducted my uncle, the Professor, and myself into the
building. We found ourselves in a large, cool room, lighted and aired by
open spaces between the top of the walls and the roof. At the rear was a
dark passage, doubtless leading into other apartments, but the
appearance of the interior was extremely primitive and unattractive.
Upon a rush mat at one side of the room sat a young girl, her slender
form graceful and upright, her dark eyes fixed curiously upon us. She
seemed about fifteen years of age, but may have been two or three years
younger, for the women of these desert gypsies mature early in life. Her
hair, unlike that of the other Bega we had seen, was not bushy and
cloudlike, but its luxuriant tresses were heavily plaited into several
braids, two hanging in front over either shoulder and two others
dropping behind her back. On her arms or ankles were broad bands or
bracelets of silver, some of them set with odd stones of strange colors
and shapes. Golden bangles—perhaps Persian or Arabian coins—were strung
together on wires and woven into the braids of her hair. She wore a robe
of some thin, strong material which was striped in alternate bands of
scarlet and green—a robe more becoming than its description sounds, I
think—and across her rounded shoulders was folded a Syrian scarf covered
with rich embroidery.
The girl was undeniably handsome. She would have been conspicuous by
reason of her beauty in any civilized community. Here, surrounded by a
barbaric desert tribe, she seemed a veritable daughter of Venus.
I could not stare long at this gracious sight, for beside the girl sat,
or rather squatted, a personage whose powerful individuality compelled
attention.
Gege-Merak—for I did not doubt I beheld the chief—was a withered,
wrinkled old man scarce five feet in height when standing upright, a
veritable dwarf among his handsome, well formed subjects. One eye—the
right one—was gone, and across the sightless cavity and reaching from
his cheek to his forehead, was a broad, livid scar as from the slash of
a knife or a sword-cut. The other eye, small and glittering, regarded us
with a glare as disconcerting as that of a snake, it being set in his
face deep amid the folds of wrinkled flesh. His chin protruded and his
thin lips were closed together in a straight line, while his bushy hair
was snow-white in color, denoting great age.
I own I was amazed to find the famous chief so different from his
people; and when I realized that we had voluntarily put our lives into
the keeping of this old, evil-featured Bega, I began to suspect there
was a foundation for the Arab sheik’s persistent croak of danger. Still,
as Gege-Merak sat huddled upon his mat, motionless save for that roving,
terrible eye, it occurred to me that he was too old and feeble to lead
the caravan himself, as he had sent word to us that he would do, and
without doubt would delegate the task to some other.
At our entrance the warriors knelt to their chief and crouched
subserviently their foreheads to the mat; but afterward they stood erect
in a group at one side. They neither saluted nor appeared to notice the
girl at all.
“So,” said Gege-Merak, in a quiet voice and speaking excellent English.
“Here are the travelers who wish to be led to Luxor. What is your errand
there?”
He looked from one to another of us, and I took upon myself to answer
him, as the Professor seemed to hesitate.
“Sir, that is our business alone,” I declared, stiffly. “All that we
require from you is your camels, your warriors to guard us, and a
guide.”
“I am rebuked, Effendi,” said he, fixing his small eye upon me with a
penetrating gaze, but exhibiting no humility in his tones. After a
slight pause: “Do you agree to my price in return for the service you
require?”
“Yes; you are to receive one hundred English pounds.”
“In advance,” he added, softly.
“One-half in advance,” said I. “The remainder when we have returned in
safety.”
“Let me see the money.”
I produced a bag containing fifty gold pounds, and stooping down counted
them out upon the mat before him. He watched me silently.
“Now I will see the other fifty,” he said.
I began to dislike the chief; but now the Professor said, somewhat to my
surprise.
“Pay him the full amount, Mr. Steele; it will be better that way.”
“Why?” I asked, turning to him rather angrily.
“Because the great chief is suspicious of our honesty, and we want him
to believe we are honest. Also because Gege-Merak’s word is sacred, and
he will be faithful when he is paid. For a third reason, it will be just
as well for you not to carry that gold across the desert and back again,
when the chief is able to put it away in a safe place before we begin
the journey.”
Gege-Merak listened carefully and it was evident he approved this
argument. But he said nothing and merely looked at me inquiringly.
Of course, if the natives would prove faithful, the Professor’s plan of
advance payment was best. After a look toward Uncle Naboth, which he
answered with a nod, I drew out another fifty pounds and counted it upon
the mat beside the first.
“Now, Gege-Merak,” said I, “you are paid in full.”