A Discovery
"IT'S no use staying here all day," remarked Reeves at length.
"Gather up the provisions, and take a musket and ammunition apiece,
and we'll make a dash for the river; it can't be much more than
twenty miles off."
He spoke as naturally as he could, but twenty miles across a
trackless desert in the full heat of the blazing sun was no light
journey, especially when one must be afoot. Besides, the presence of
the river might be purely conjectural; it might make a sudden bend to
the west, and instead of tramping twenty miles, the travellers might
stagger on till they dropped, and still not find water.
However, it was a course for actions, not words; and, having armed
themselves, Hugh and Gerald mounted the two remaining hieries, while
Reeves walked between the animals.
But before they had traversed a hundred yards the correspondent
stopped.
"Hand me that goatskin!" he exclaimed, and without a word as to his
intentions he retraced his steps to the rock.
The lads gazed at him in astonishment, yet both were too utterly
exhausted and parched to speak.
In less than five minutes the correspondent returned, staggering
under the load of a distended water bottle.
"Drink" he said, holding up the skin for Gerald to take, "but be
careful not to spill a drop."
Longingly Hugh watched his companion take a deep draught of the
life-giving fluid, but patiently he waited his turn.
"And you, Mr. Reeves?" asked Gerald, as the correspondent carefully
retied the mouth of the goatskin when Hugh had drunk.
"I've had some already. I had what was over; it was not much, but
enough."
Both lads knew where the water had been obtained, although the idea
had not previously entered their heads. Nature has provided the camel
with unique means of carrying a large supply of water, which, until
required, remains as fresh as can be expected; and, with the
knowledge of this peculiarity, Reeves had deftly drawn the precious
fluid from the dead hierie.
Then the tedious, anxious journey was resumed. The sun, now high in
the heavens, beat fiercely upon the white _burnouses_ of the
travellers, while the sand underfoot was so hot that Reeves could
scarce place his feet to the ground, in spite of the fact that his
well-made boots still stood the wear and tear of days in the desert.
Yet uncomplainingly he tramped full five weary miles before Gerald
insisted on giving up his camel to his elder.
Hour after hour passed without any sign of the hoped-for river. At
length the ground, still sandy, though dotted here and there with
masses of smooth, rounded rock, began to slope upwards, apparently
without a break, for nearly five miles.
Reeves looked grave when he saw this. They were heading at right
angles the supposed direction of the river, and the land was rising.
The river could not possibly run uphill. Perhaps beyond--if not, the
disappointment would be enough to crush even his powers of
resolution.
Once again the agonies of thirst began to assert themselves, in spite
of a frugal meal of dried dates, and soon it was with the greatest
difficulty that they could move their swollen tongues in their
parched mouths.
Shortly after noon Gerald was on the point of collapse. Only by
passing a rope round the two raised portions of the saddle was Reeves
able to keep his young charge from reeling and falling to the ground.
"We must halt for a while," he exclaimed. "Make for that rock over
there, Hugh."
He pointed to a mass of stone that, leaning slightly, might possibly
afford some shelter from the sun. The rock, resembling a Druidical
pillar, stood about two hundred yards to the right of the direction
in which they were travelling; but being the only object likely to
throw a reasonable shade, the turning aside was advisable.
Gerald, on one camel, was leading, with Reeves walking slightly to
the left flank, while Hugh's hierie ambled at some ten paces in the
rear.
Suddenly Gerald stiffened himself in the saddle, and in a loud,
croaking voice shouted, "Water!"
Hugh replied with a feeble cry of delight, but Reeves, although his
hopes ran high at the announcement, thought that Gerald's exclamation
was the outcome of a disordered imagination. In order to soothe the
lad, however, he asked: "Where, Gerald?"
For answer the lad pointed to a long, low ridge of sand through which
the rock protruded. Beyond was a dip, but from his level Reeves could
not see over the crest as well as did the lad on the camel. From even
a very short distance the radiation of the sand caused every outline
to appear blurred and wavy, and the depression beyond the ridge was
in consequence hitherto unnoticed.
"Why, it's the river!" exclaimed Gerald.
Reeves waited no longer, but, breaking into a stumbling run, pressed
on ahead and gained the side of the rock. Gerald was right. In a
narrow khor, or valley, flowed the stream. True, it was little better
than a chain of shallow lakes connected by a mere trickle of
yellowish water, but to the almost exhausted fugitives it meant life.
Forgetting their fatigue, the lads slipped from their saddles and
staggered towards the nearest pool, while Reeves, stopping only to
hobble the camels, made haste to follow them. Half a minute later the
three were on their knees, plunging their heads into the tepid water,
and taking copious draughts of the invigorating liquid.
"Steady, boys!" cautioned Reeves, knowing that an excess would be
almost as bad as a lack of water; "there's plenty of time. Here we
stay for the rest of the day."
"Are we safe?" asked Hugh.
"As safe as we can reasonably hope to be," replied the correspondent.
"I'll bring the camels down, and while they are drinking we'll have a
meal."
"Is this the same river as at Wadi Tlat?" asked Gerald.
"As far as I can judge, but it has made a fairly wide sweep to the
south-west. I believe that had we kept due south from the spot where
we were at sunrise, we should have struck the river within an hour or
so."
"Perhaps it turned out for the best."
"That I do not doubt. We might not have found such an admirable spot
to hold our own against the Arabs, and had those fellows caught us in
the open, it would have gone hard with us. That reminds me--do you
know how to load these guns?"
The lads shook their heads. They had both used rook rifles before,
but these long-barrelled flintlocks were beyond them.
"I can't see the place for the caps," said Gerald.
"For the simple reason that percussion caps are not used," replied
Reeves, taking up one of the muskets. "See this piece of steel on a
hinge? I throw it back, and you see a shallow bowl underneath it.
That is the pan. You've heard of the expression, 'a flash in the
pan'? Now, first load the barrel with powder and ball, not forgetting
the wads, and ram the charge hard home, so. Next half-cock the
hammer, place powder in the pan, and cover it up again by the steel.
To fire, full-cock the musket, take aim, and pull the trigger. The
flint will draw fire from the steel, and at the same time throw open
the pan. The spark ignites the priming powder in the pan, which in
turn communicates, by means of a small hole, with the charge in the
barrel. It's somewhat unreliable, for the flint may spark without
igniting the priming, or the priming may flash in the pan without
exploding the charge."
"How cumbersome!" remarked Hugh.
"But we are lucky to have them at all," replied the correspondent.
"For nearly a hundred and fifty years our forefathers fought and won
their battles with weapons acting in precisely the same manner as
this. Consequently, if ever we are compelled to use these weapons in
self-defence, we must remember their maxim: 'Never fire till you can
see the whites of your enemy's eyes'. Now, boys, you had better
snatch a few hours' sleep in the shade of the rock. I can hold out a
good while, so I'll keep watch."
Both Hugh and Gerald protested that they were quite capable of taking
the first watch, and that their elder was more in need of rest than
they were; but Reeves sternly ordered them to obey.
In less than three minutes both lads were fast asleep, while the
correspondent took up a position as much in the shade as possible,
keeping a vigilant lookout across the seemingly interminable waste of
sand.
Once more he reviewed the situation. Here they were on the banks of a
small, unknown river, with a vast tract of country, hitherto
unvisited by Europeans, stretching southward--whither? Without proper
equipment, ill-provisioned, and already weak with fatigue and meagre
fare, how could he, let alone the two lads, hope to traverse the
great, unknown desert? The river might prove to be one of those that
eventually lose themselves in the sand or periodically dry up, or it
might wax greater and stronger and join one of the immense
tributaries of the Niger; but to return was out of the question. They
must proceed, overcome their great difficulties, or in turn be
overcome by them.
At length Hugh awoke, feeling considerably refreshed, and, after
being warned that strict vigilance was imperative, took the
correspondent's place while the latter snatched a brief but
well-earned rest.
Presently Hugh was joined by his chum, and not until the sun was low
in the heavens did they cease to maintain a careful and anxious
lookout. But there was no sign of human beings. The Arabs, their fear
of the jinns increased considerably by the non-return of their
comrades, attempted no further pursuit.
All that night Reeves kept watch, lying with his serviceable ear near
the sand in order the more readily to detect the soft footfalls of
approaching camels, or standing at intervals to stretch his aching
frame and to gaze into the starlit desert.
At daybreak the journey by the banks of the river began. In order to
guard against possible surprise, the fugitives kept upon the ridge of
hard-baked earth that followed the course of the stream at less than
fifty yards from it. Without much exertion a steady pace could be
maintained by the one who chanced to be afoot, while by taking turns
at riding the camels a much greater distance could be covered.
For four days the course of the river was followed, without signs of
any other human beings. Occasionally a small patch of scrub would be
seen, but beyond that there was no herbage upon which the camels
could feed. For their masters there was as yet sufficient for their
needs; but Reeves, though outwardly sanguine, could not ignore the
fact that the supply would last but three days more.
At the end of the fourth day, just as the fugitives were preparing to
camp out for the night, Hugh pointed to a dark-brown object lying on
the side of one of the sandhills.
"Is that a man?" he asked.
"It certainly looks like one," replied Reeves; "but if it is, he is
certainly not attempting to conceal himself. Bring your muskets,
lads, and we'll see what it really is."
They had to traverse a distance of nearly four hundred yards before
the correspondent, who was leading, breasted the slope of the last
hillock that lay between them and the object of their search.
"It was a man," announced Reeves. "The poor fellow has died,
apparently from hunger and thirst."
The three Englishmen raised their head-coverings as they stopped by
the side of the luckless traveller, of whom only a bleached skeleton
remained. To the lads' surprise, the body, which was lying face
downwards, was encased in a hauberk of chain armour, while at a short
distance from the head was a steel helmet, with a short guard for the
nose. Both helm and hauberk were slightly eaten away by rust.
"Why, it's the body of a mediaeval knight!" exclaimed Gerald.
"I've----"
"Not so fast!" interposed Reeves. "The poor fellow was doubtless an
Arab emir. As late as fifteen years ago we had Sudanese clad in mail,
which, if not exactly that worn by the Crusader, was a good copy of
it. It is commonly supposed that the Arabs obtained the use of chain
mail from their Saracen ancestors, who, of course, adapted their
Christian enemies' arms and mail to their own purpose. I'll turn the
man over. Perhaps he may have something on of service to us."
So saying, the correspondent gently placed his hands under the
hauberk and turned the skeleton on its back. As he did so he gave a
grunt of surprise, for to the right breast of the rusty coat of mail
was affixed a metal cross, made apparently of copper, but green with
exposure to the air.
"It strikes me pretty forcibly that you are right after all, Gerald,"
he exclaimed. "But at the same time I cannot believe it possible,
even taking into consideration the dryness of the atmosphere, that
armour could withstand the ravages of the weather for seven or eight
hundred years."
"There is a dagger," said Hugh, pointing to the hilt of a weapon that
hung at the right side of the skeleton, the remaining portion being
buried in the sand.
"It certainly looks like a misericord," remarked Reeves, drawing the
rusty steel from its mouldy sheath. "See! the man wears a rich
leathern baldrick. At one time he carried a sword--here are the
fragments of a sheath; and, stranger still, he does not appear to
have had firearms!"
"Why is it strange?" asked Hugh.
"Because an emir, even though clad in chain mail, almost invariably
carries a pistol and powder-horn with him. This man has none.
However, the mystery must remain a mystery, I fear. We can, at any
rate, cover the skeleton with sand."
This was accordingly done; but as the Englishmen were about to return
to where the camels were left, Reeves stooped and picked up the
dagger.
"Every additional weight hampers us," he remarked, "but I think I
will take this. It will be a memento, in case we return to
civilization in safety."
"I wonder if the man rode a horse or a camel?" asked Hugh. "If so,
are there any traces of it?"
"We may as well look around," replied Reeves. "Another thing that
puzzles me is, why did the man die in the sand, instead of making his
way to the river, which is less than a hundred yards off, and quite
visible from here? However, carry on. You, Hugh, go ahead for a
hundred paces; Gerald, you go to your left, but no farther than
yonder hillock; I'll explore the rocks by the river."
Reeves had barely taken thirty steps when a shout from Gerald
arrested his attention. "There's a cross stuck up on a sandhill,"
announced the lad.
Making his way in the direction indicated, Hugh having rejoined him,
the correspondent found that the cross was in reality a big,
cross-hilted sword, planted point downwards in a cleft in the rocks,
which were covered to a depth of about a foot with drifting sand.
Pulling out the weapon, Reeves examined the blade. It was rusty, but
not in such a bad state as the hauberk and helm, the frequent
friction of the sand having kept the steel from being badly eaten
away. The blade was about three feet six inches in length, perfectly
straight except for three inches from the end, where it tapered
sharply to a point. The hilt was of iron, devoid of ornamentation.
"It looks as if it were placed here for a purpose," remarked Hugh.
"It does," replied Reeves, "--as a symbol of faith. See! the cross
shows towards the east. But we must be getting back. It will be dark
in a few minutes."
And, bearing the sword with him, the correspondent led the way back
to the bivouac by the river.