"Oh my! Oh my! Two incidents have happened to-day, dearest, that can
hardly fail of great results. Early in the morning we came upon the new
convict settlement, a rough bastioned place built of sun-dried bricks in
the middle of the Soudan desert. It contains the hundred and fifty
Notables who were imprisoned by the Special Tribunal for assaults on the
Army of Occupation when they were defending the house of your friend the
Grand Cadi. How Ishmael discovered this I do not know, but what he did
was like another manifestation of the 'mystic sense.'
"Stopping the caravan with an unexpected blast of the elephant-horn, he
caused ten rows of men to be ranged around the prison, and after silence
had been proclaimed, he called on them to say the first Surah: 'Praise
be to God, the Lord of all creatures.'
"It had a weird effect in that lonesome place, as of a great monotonous
wave breaking on a bar far out at sea, but what followed was still more
eerie. After a breathless moment, in which everybody seemed to listen
and hold his breath, there came the deadened and muffled sound of the
same words repeated by the prisoners within the walls: 'Praise be to
God, the Lord of all creatures.'
"When this was over Ishmael cried, 'Peace, brothers! Patience! The day
of your deliverance is near! The Redeemer is coming! All your wrongs
will be righted, all your bruises will be healed! Peace!'
"And then there came from within the prison walls the muffled answer,
'Peace!'
"The second of the incidents occurred about midday. When crossing a
lifeless waste of gloomy volcanic sand, we came upon a desert graveyard,
with those rounded hillocks of clay which make one think that the dead
beneath must be struggling in their sleep.
"At a word from Ishmael all the men of our company who belong to that
country stepped out from the caravan and riding round and round the
cemetery, shouted the names of their kindred who were buried there:
'Ali!' 'Abdul!' 'Mohammed!' 'Mahmud!' 'Said!'
"After that Ishmael himself rode forward, and addressing the dead as if
they could hear, he cried, 'Peace to you, O people of the graves! Wait!
Lie still! The night is passing! The daylight dawns!'
"It was thrilling! Strange, simple, primitive, crude in its faith
perhaps, but such love and reverence for the dead contrasted only too
painfully with the vandalism of our 'Christian' vultures (yclept
Egyptologists), who rifle the graves of the old Egyptians for their
jewels and mummy beads, and then leave their bones in tons to bleach on
the bare sand--a condition that is sufficient of itself to account for
Jacob's prayer, 'Bury me not, I pray thee, in the land of Egypt.'
"And so say all of us! But seriously, my dear Gordon, I quite expect to
hear at the next stopping-place a story of how Ishmael recited the
Fatihah and the walls of a prison fell down before him, and how he spoke
to the dead and they replied."