The Sheikh's Salt
THE Englishman looked at his sleeping comrades. The lads were
slumbering deeply, too fatigued even to dream of their tribulations,
which, indeed, were hardly begun. Separation was one of the worst
things that might befall them, and, if possible, Reeves meant to
prevent it. But how? He racked his brains to think of a plan. Scheme
after scheme rapidly suggested itself, only as rapidly to be passed
by as impracticable. He strove to remember what rituals the Arabs
observed when they swore blood-brotherhood. He would willingly claim
relationship with the lowest of the tribe, could he by so doing keep
the lads with him. At last a dim recollection of bygone days, a tale
he had heard in his youth, flashed across his mind. "Give me the
chance," he muttered to himself, "and I'll risk it!"
Presently Hugh opened his eyes, and groaned as the pain of his
thong-tied arms recalled the desperate situation in which he and his
companions were placed.
Without hesitation, and as if the action was perfectly natural to
him, the lad moved till his body shielded his chum's face from the
now strengthening rays of the sun.
"The youngster's learning his lesson, poor chap!" thought Mr. Reeves.
"I remember him at home as a selfish, unthinking little prig. Already
he's beginning to think of others."
The camp was soon astir. The camels, horses, and cattle were taken
out to the wells--mere dipping holes of brackish water--and
afterwards allowed to graze upon the scanty pasturage of sun-scorched
grass. Ere the disturbed water had been given time to settle, a
fierce-looking Baggara, armed with spear, short knife, and circular
shield of hide, made the captives go to the wells and drink. Both
lads remembered how careful Mr. Frazer had been to warn them about
drinking unfiltered water. The fountain water of Naples was perfect
nectar to this muddy liquid, but thirst compelled them to drink
deeply in spite of their qualms.
"I wish we could place our hands in the pool," said Gerald.
"You'd be sorry if you did, my boy," replied Mr. Reeves. "The
moisture would cause the leathern thongs to shrink, and they are
quite tight enough already."
"Are we going to be kept long in this place?" asked Hugh.
"That I cannot say," replied the correspondent. "Perhaps only a day.
The Arabs will make another march to-night, I believe."
Thoughts of the impending separation were still uppermost in his
mind. He was torn by the vital question: Ought he to warn the lads?
On the one hand, being prepared is forearmed; on the other, he was
adding to their miseries by suggesting a situation that might not,
after all, come off. It was like meeting trouble half-way. Then he
recalled the sheikh's words, "the white unbeliever who was brought
from the south". The south? What European was likely to have
traversed the vast, trackless desert of Sahara from the south?
Nigeria, the Cameroons, French Congo--all lie to the south; but was
it possible that a white man could make that fearsome journey? But
perhaps the south was a term used in a vague, elastic sense, and the
captive referred to was a survivor of the prisoners of the Mahdi?
Reeves determined to keep his ears open, and for the present he would
say nothing to his young comrades about the conversation he had heard
between the Sheikhs Wadherim and Abdullah.
"Look here, boys!" he exclaimed; "I may want you to do something.
What it is I won't tell you at present, but you must act immediately
I give the word. You understand?"
For a wonder, Reeves remarked, neither of the lads asked why. Both
signified their readiness to comply with their friend's instructions.
On being brought back to the encampment, which was separated from the
following of the Sheikh Abdullah by about a hundred paces, the
captives were permitted to lie down under the shade of a tree. Their
bonds were cut, and save for the camel rope they were comparatively
free. But not for long. An old Arab, his face wizened into a thousand
wrinkles, came up with a brazier full of burning charcoal, and a bag
of tools slung at his left hip. Setting down the brazier, he fanned
the flame into a fierce heat, chanting the while a doleful kind of
tune. Presently he clapped his hands, and three other Arabs appeared,
bearing light iron chains in their hands.
Each of the three captives was in turn fastened by the wrist, the
gyves being riveted by means of bolts made red-hot in the brazier,
the smith flattening out the rivets to the accompaniment of his
dolorous chant.
"Well, this is better than a hide rope," said Mr. Reeves, after the
man had taken his departure. "It gives us a certain amount of
freedom, and the chains are not heavy. And, if the opportunity
occurs, I believe I can snap them with very little effort."
"They seem rather strong," remarked Gerald.
"But still, I can manage it," replied his elder comrade confidently.
"Now, be ready, for I think something is going to happen."
At that moment four armed men came up to the place where the captives
were resting, and by suggestive signs made it clear that they were
wanted.
Reeves set his jaw tightly as he arose and, with one of the lads on
either side, accompanied the guards through a part of the encampment
to the tent of the Sheikh Wadherim.
The chief was sitting on the ground, with the Sheikh Abdullah on his
right hand and a mop-haired Baggara on his left. In front of them
were spread the remains of a meal--a bowl containing a sticky mess
of boiled flour, honey, and dates, in which the men had apparently
dipped their fingers in common; small brass cups containing strong
coffee; and an earthenware basin half-filled with a brown substance
which the correspondent recognized as salt. Having finished their
meal, the Arabs were smoking.
At a sign from their captor the three Englishmen were made to stand
in front of the sheikhs, about five yards from them. For a
considerable time the Arabs regarded the captives in silence, as if
taking stock of their physical condition.
"As you say, brother, the two beardless unbelievers look the better
for their rest," remarked Abdullah, removing the stem of his hookah
from his lips, and speaking in a low, guttural voice. "I do not
gainsay you on that point, but still----"
He paused, and spread out the palms of his hands with a deprecatory
gesture.
"There is no time to be lost," replied Wadherim. "I have sworn by the
Prophet to reach the oasis of El Keifa ere to-morrow's dawn,
otherwise I would be content to abide here and bargain with you. Not
that it would make any difference. The full-grown infidel I will not
sell without the others; perchance the two beardless ones would droop
if taken from the one who, it seems, is their father."
"I have no work meet for these," said Abdullah, pointing to Hugh and
Gerald. "Toiling in the salt lakes of El Sog would turn their brains,
even as it did that of the unbeliever from the South. Nevertheless,
Wadherim, I am indifferent. Either the man or none."
The other sheikh paused ere replying.
"Then I must ask half a score sacks of dates besides the gunpowder we
agreed upon," he replied. "Abdullah, you were ever a hard man, but in
this matter I must have my way, since you will have the best of the
three."
The bargaining proceeded with considerable vehemence. Reeves realized
that unless something were done the dreaded separation would become
an accomplished fact, for the Sheikh Wadherim was wavering in his
demands.
"Boys," he said in a low voice, "eat what I give you;" and ere the
lads could comprehend the meaning of his words, the correspondent
bounded forward, dragging Hugh and Gerald with him. The guards raised
their spears and tried to intervene, thinking that the Kafirs were
about to throw themselves upon the sheikhs; but, ere they could
prevent it, Reeves had thrust his hand into the bowl of salt.
"Eat!" he exclaimed; and, to his satisfaction, both lads obeyed
without hesitation, placing the salt to their lips, while he did the
same.
Abdullah gave a shout of rage, and called to the attendant Arabs to
secure the unbelievers; but the Sheikh Wadherim silenced him by
holding up his hand.
"Peace be with you, brethren!" he exclaimed. "These Kafirs, even
though they be the sons of Shaitan, have shown no little courage and
cunning. They have partaken of my salt."
"Without your leave," muttered Abdullah.
"But they have claimed a right, notwithstanding, and I must
acknowledge it."
The correspondent could hardly conceal his satisfaction. His ruse had
succeeded. By partaking of the sheikh's salt he and his companions
had, according to the custom of the Arabs from time immemorial,
secured his protection, and nothing short of the shedding of blood by
those who were under this protection could release the chief from his
obligations.
As for the lads, unable to understand the significance of their
action, they were beginning to feel the effects of the salt.
"Swallow it!" said Mr. Reeves sternly. "Swallow it! For Heaven's sake
don't spit it out! I'll tell you why later."
Striving to conceal his bad temper, the Sheikh Abdullah stood up,
grimly saluted the imperturbable Wadherim, and strode back to his
encampment, followed by the Baggara, while the now more friendly
chief clapped his hands as a signal for the three Kafirs to be
removed.
"You see, Hugh, I heard we were to be separated," explained Mr.
Reeves.
"Separated!" exclaimed both lads, in dismay. "When?"
"We were to have been, I ought to have said. But sneaking the
sheikh's salt altered the case. I don't think we shall be now. We may
also be better treated, being sort of inferior guests of the sheikh.
I only hope he won't put us under too much of an obligation, or it
would be rather low-down to give him the slip."
"If we do, where can we make for?" asked Gerald. "There are miles of
sand, and not a thing to guide us."
"Except the sun and the stars," replied Mr. Reeves. "But the time is
hardly ripe to make an attempt yet. When we do, we must have a good
chance of success. Failure would be worse than death."