CHAPTER I

THROUGH THE

DESERT

By

HENRYK SIENKIEWICZ

New York, Cincinnati, Chicago

BENZIGER BROTHERS

PUBLISHERS OF BENZIGER’S MAGAZINE

1912

Copyright, 1912, by Benziger Brothers

in the United States and Great Britain

[Illustration: Nell and Stasch ]

Through the Desert

* * * * *

PART I

CHAPTER I

“Nell, do you know,” said Stasch Tarkowski to his friend, an English

girl, “that yesterday the Sabties (policemen) arrested the wife and

children of Overseer Smain—the same Fatima who often visited our

fathers’ offices?”

Little Nell, as pretty as a picture, looked up at Stasch (Stanislaus)

with her greenish eyes, and half astonished, half afraid, asked:

“Have they put them in prison?”

“No, but they would not allow them to travel to Sudan, and an officer

has been stationed to watch them so as to prevent their taking a step

outside of Port Said.”

“Why?”

Stasch, who was now fourteen years of age, was much attached to his

eight-year-old comrade. He regarded her merely as a child, and assuming

a very superior air answered:

“When you are as old as I am you will know everything—what is taking

place on the canal from Port Said to Suez, and all over Egypt.”

“Have you heard anything about the Mahdi? I’ve heard that he is ugly and

naughty.”

The boy smiled condescendingly. “I don’t know whether he is ugly or not.

The Sudanese think he is handsome; but to call a man who has killed so

many people ‘naughty’—that is a word only a little girl, with short

dresses reaching down to her knees, would use.”

“Papa told me so, and papa knows best.”

“He used that word in speaking to you because you would not have

understood anything else. He would not have used it in speaking to me.

The Mahdi is worse than a hundred crocodiles. Do you understand what I

say? The word ‘naughty’ is a good word to use when talking to little

children.”

But when he saw the troubled look on the child’s face he said: “Nell,

you know that I don’t want to vex you. The time is coming when you will

be fourteen, too.”

“Yes,” she answered, with an anxious expression. “What if the Mahdi

should take Port Said, and eat me?”

“The Mahdi is not a cannibal and therefore does not eat people; he

murders them instead. Besides, he will never take Port Said; even if he

did capture it, and were to try to kill you, he would have me to deal

with.”

This assertion he made in a snarling tone, which augured no good to the

Mahdi, but it had the effect of apparently quieting Nell on the subject.

“I know,” she answered, “that you would protect me. But why won’t they

allow Fatima to leave Port Said?”

“Because Fatima is the Mahdi’s cousin. Her husband told the Egyptian

Government at Cairo that he would travel to Sudan, where the Mahdi was

staying, for the purpose of freeing all the Europeans who had fallen

into his hands.”

“So Smain is good, then?”

“Listen! Our fathers, who knew Smain very well, had no confidence in

him, and they warned Nubar Pasha not to trust him. But the government

was willing to send Smain there, and he has been six months with the

Mahdi. Still, not only did the captives not return, but, according to

reports from Khartum, the Mahdists are treating them most cruelly; and

Smain, after having received money from the government, has turned

traitor. He commanded the artillery of the Mahdi in the dreadful battle

in which General Hicks fell, and he taught the Mahdists to use cannon,

of which these savages knew nothing before. But Smain is now making

every effort to get his wife and children out of Egypt. Fatima, who knew

beforehand what Smain was trying to do, is said to have attempted to

leave Port Said secretly, and that is why the government has imprisoned

her and her children.”

“What does the government want with Fatima and her children?”

“The government intends to say to the Mahdi: ‘If you return those of our

people you have taken prisoners, we will give up Fatima.’ ” After this

they stopped talking, for birds flying in the direction from Echtum

om-Farag toward Lake Menzaleh attracted Stasch’s attention. They flew

rather low down in the clear air, and many pelicans could be seen

stretching out their necks and slowly flapping their tremendous wings.

Stasch imitated their flight by raising his head very high, running

along the dam, and waving his outstretched arms.

“Look! The flamingoes also are flying!” Nell suddenly exclaimed.

Stasch stopped a moment, for just behind the pelicans, but hovering a

little higher in the air, might be seen two large objects, like red and

rose-colored flowers.

“Toward evening they fly to their home on the small island,” said the

boy. “Oh, if I only had a gun!”

“Why do you want to shoot them?”

“Women never understand such things, but let us go on; perhaps we shall

see some more of them.”

With those words he took the little girl by the hand, and they went

along the first canal path behind Port Said, followed by Dinah, a

negress, who was formerly little Nell’s nurse. They went along the

embankment that confines the waters of Lake Menzaleh, through which a

pilot had just taken an English steamer.

[Illustration: The sun soon set below the lake, whose salt water began

to glimmer like gold. ]

Evening was approaching. The sun was still rather high, but it soon set

below the lake, whose salt water began to glimmer like gold and assume

the shimmering hues of a peacock’s plume. On the Arabian shore, as far

as eye could see, stretched the gloomy, menacing, dead desert. Between

the glassy and motionless sky and the shoreless, furrowed stretch of

sand there was not a sign of any living creature. While the canal

presented a scene of great commercial activity—boats gliding past,

steamers whistling, and over the surface of Lake Menzaleh flocks of

sea-gulls and wild ducks glistening in the moonlight—on the Arabian

shore it was as desolate as a city of the dead. But the lower the sun

sank, the redder the west became; even the sand-dunes were tinted with

lilac color, resembling the heather found in the autumn woods of Poland.

Walking toward the landing, the children saw several more flamingoes,

and their eyes fairly danced with joy. Then Dinah said that Nell must go

home. In Egypt the days, which even in winter are very warm, are

followed by cold nights, and as Nell’s health required great care, Mr.

Rawlison, her father, did not allow the child to remain near the water

after sundown; so they returned to the Rawlison villa, at the extreme

end of the town, near the canal. Mr. Tarkowski, the father of Stasch,

had been invited to dine; he came in soon after, and then the whole

company, including the French woman, Mrs. Olivier, Nell’s governess, sat

down to dinner.

Mr. Rawlison, a director of the Suez Canal Company, and Vladislaw

Tarkowski, chief engineer of the same company, had been very intimate

for many years. Both were widowers. Mrs. Tarkowski, a French lady, had

died giving birth to Stasch thirteen years before. Nell’s mother had

died of consumption in Heluan when her little girl was three years old.

The two widowers lived close by each other, and their business in Port

Said brought them in daily contact. Their mutual sorrows also cemented

their old friendship. Mr. Rawlison loved Stasch as though he had been

his own son, and Mr. Tarkowski would have gone through fire and water

for little Nell. After their day’s work was done their greatest pleasure

was to talk about the education and the future of their children. While

they were conversing thus Mr. Rawlison would praise the capability,

energy, and precocity of Stasch, and Mr. Tarkowski express himself

enthusiastically about Nell’s charm and her little angel face.

Both were correct in their views. Stasch was somewhat conceited and

boastful, but quick in his studies, and the teachers of the English

school in Port Said prophesied a great future for him. He had inherited

aptitude and courage from his father, for Mr. Tarkowski possessed these

qualities in a marked degree, and to them he owed his present high

position. He had taken an active part in the Polish revolution for

eleven months, then, being wounded and taken prisoner, he was banished

to Siberia, from which he escaped and fled to a foreign country.

Before joining the insurrectionists he was graduated as an engineer. A

year after his escape he spent all his time studying hydraulics; then he

obtained a position on the canal, and after several years, when his

thorough knowledge, energy, and industry had become known, he was

promoted to the position of chief engineer.

Stasch was born at Port Said, on the banks of the canal, was brought up

there, and had now attained his fourteenth year. For this reason the

engineers and his father’s colleague called him “The Child of the

Desert.” Later, in his school life, at vacation time, he often

accompanied his father and Mr. Rawlison when they went on short business

trips from Port Said to Suez, which they were obliged to do in order to

superintend the workmen on the dam and to direct the excavation of the

canal bed. He knew all the engineers and the custom-house officers, as

well as the workmen, the Arabs, and the negroes.

He went everywhere, even where no one would think of looking for him; he

made long excursions on the embankments, rowed his small boat on Lake

Menzaleh, and often wandered far away. He would row across to the

Arabian shore and catch a horse, or not finding one, he would take a

camel, or even a donkey, to aid him in playing the fakir in the desert.

In a word, as Mr. Tarkowski would say, he ferreted into everything, and

every moment he had free from his studies he spent on the water. His

father did not remonstrate with him, for he knew that rowing, riding,

and outdoor life would make the boy more robust and develop his

energies. Stasch was taller and stronger than most boys of his age. One

glance at his eyes was enough to convince any one that he was more

courageous than cowardly.

In his fourteenth year he was the best swimmer in Port Said, which is

saying a great deal, for the Arabs and the negroes swim like fish. In

shooting wild ducks and Egyptian geese with his small gun he had

acquired a steady hand and a true eye.

His ambition was to shoot big game in Central Africa, and he listened

eagerly to the tales told by the Sudanese working on the canal, who

hunted wild beasts in their native country. This intermingling with the

Sudanese gave him the advantage of learning their languages.

The Suez Canal had not only to be dug, but also to be constantly

watched; otherwise the sand on either shore would fill it up within a

year. Lesseps’ great work demands continual vigilance and care, and

therefore powerful machines and thousands of men under the supervision

of skilful engineers are still laboring daily, deepening its bed.

In excavating the canal twenty-five thousand workmen were employed, but

now that it is completed and machinery is so much improved, fewer men

are necessary. There are, however, a considerable number still employed,

chiefly natives, including Nubians, Sudanese, Somalis, and negroes of

different tribes living on the White and Blue Nile, over whom the

Egyptian Government had ruled before the revolt of the Mahdi. Stasch

lived on friendly terms with all of them, and, as is usually the case

with the Poles, he had a great gift for languages; thus he had picked up

many of their dialects without knowing when and where. Born in Egypt, he

spoke Arabian like an Arab. From the natives of Zanzibar, who served as

firemen on the engines, he had learned the language which is spoken

throughout the greater part of Africa—the Ki-swahili dialect—and he

could make himself understood by the negroes of the Dinka and Schilluk

tribes, who inhabit the upper half of Fashoda, on the Nile. He also

spoke English, French, and Polish fluently; his father, an ardent

patriot, had taken great care that his boy should be familiar with his

own tongue. Stasch also considered this the most beautiful of all

languages, and he was successful in teaching it to little Nell. But he

was never able to make her pronounce his name correctly. She would

always say “Stes” instead of Stasch, and this often caused a

misunderstanding, which only lasted until the little girl’s eyes filled

with tears, then “Stes” would ask her forgiveness, and was usually very

angry with himself. But he had a disagreeable habit of referring

disdainfully to her eight years, and of contrasting his age and

experience with her youth. He asserted that a boy who had completed his

thirteenth year, even if he were not entirely grown up, was at least no

longer a child, that he was capable of accomplishing all kinds of heroic

exploits, especially if he had Polish and French blood in his veins, and

that he ardently wished for an opportunity to do such deeds, especially

in Nell’s defense. Both children imagined all sorts of dangers, and

Stasch always knew how to meet her difficulties. For instance, what he

would do were a crocodile a dozen yards long, or a scorpion as large as

a dog, to creep into the house through the window. Neither of them had

the least idea that the terrible reality was soon to exceed their most

fantastic conjectures.

CHAPTER II

In the meantime welcome news awaited them at home. Mr. Tarkowski and Mr.

Rawlison, being experienced engineers, had been invited a few weeks

before to inspect and report on the works of the whole canal system in

the province of El-Fayoum, in the vicinity of Medinet, on Lake Karoon,

as well as along the Yoosuf and the Nile rivers. They were going to

remain there nearly a month, and had therefore procured leave of absence

from their own company. As Christmas was near, they both decided that

they would not leave the children, and that Stasch and Nell should

accompany them to Medinet. When the children heard the news they jumped

up and down with joy. Until now they had only known about the cities

bordering on the canal, such as Ismailia and Suez, and, on the other

side of the lake, Alexandria and Cairo, from which they had visited the

great Pyramids and the Sphinx. But these were short excursions, whereas

the expedition to Medinet-el-Fayoum was a whole day’s journey by train

along the Nile to the south, and then from El-Wasta to the west toward

the Libyan desert. Stasch knew Medinet from the description given by the

younger engineers and travelers, who went there to hunt all kinds of

waterfowl, as well as wolves and hyenas in the desert. He knew that the

town was a large isolated oasis on the left bank of the Nile, but that

it was independent of the river’s overflow, having a water system of its

own, formed by Lake Karoon and the Bahr-Yoosuf, and many small canals.

Every one who had seen the oasis said that although this strip of land

belongs to Egypt, it is separated from it by the desert, and seems to be

an isolated spot. Only the river Yoosuf, like a thin blue ribbon,

connects this district with the Nile valley. The great abundance of

water, the fertility of the land, and the luxuriant vegetation make it

an earthly paradise, and the extensive ruins of the ancient city of

Crocodilopolis attract hundreds of curious travelers. Stasch was

especially charmed with the shores of Lake Karoon, with its flocks of

birds, and by the wolf-hunting expeditions in the desert hills of

Jebel-el-Sedment.

Stasch’s vacation would not begin until a few days later, but as the

inspection of the works on the canal was pressing, the fathers had no

time to lose; so it was decided that they were to leave at once, and

that the children, together with Mrs. Olivier, should follow them a week

later. Nell and Stasch wanted to start at once, but Stasch did not

venture to coax to go with them. For this reason they began to study and

to inform themselves about everything concerning the journey, and it was

with great joy that they learned they would not have to live in

uncomfortable hotels kept by Greeks, but in tents placed at their

disposal by Messrs. Cook & Co., traveling agents. For travelers from

Cairo to Medinet, and also for people who intend staying there for any

length of time, the company supplies tents, servants, cooks, provisions,

horses, camels, donkeys, and guides, so as to relieve the traveler of

all care. This is indeed an expensive way of traveling, but Mr.

Tarkowski and Mr. Rawlison were not obliged to think of this, because

all expenses were paid by the Egyptian Government, which had asked them,

as experts, to inspect and report on the canal works.

Nell, whose greatest pleasure was riding a camel, made her father

promise to get her one, on which she, in company with Mrs. Olivier or

Dinah, and sometimes Stasch, might go along with the excursions to the

borders of the desert and to Lake Karoon. Mr. Tarkowski promised Stasch

that some time he would allow him to hunt wolves by night, and if he

received a good report at school he would get him a genuine English

shotgun and an entire hunting outfit. As Stasch was sure of having a

good report, he immediately imagined himself the possessor of the gun,

and resolved to accomplish difficult and wonderful and unheard-of deeds.

The happy children conversed about these things and made plans during

the entire dinner. Mrs. Olivier was not at all enthusiastic about the

coming journey, for she felt no desire to leave the comfortable villa in

Port Said. At the very thought of living in tents, and especially at the

prospect of taking excursions on camels, she began to be frightened. She

had made several attempts to take similar rides—such as Europeans

living in Egypt usually take—but it had always ended disastrously. Once

the camel had stood up too soon, and as she had not settled herself in

the saddle she slid from his back to the ground. Another time a

dromedary, which is not accustomed to light burdens, shook her up so

that she did not recover for two days. Nell, on the other hand, after

two or three rides that her father had allowed her to take, declared

that there was nothing in the world more delightful. But Mrs. Olivier

had nothing but unpleasant memories of her rides. She said that it was

all right for Arabs, or for such little crabs as Nell, who felt the

shaking no more than a fly that had alighted on the camel’s hump; but

for older people, the serious and rather heavy people who are sure to be

seasick, it was a very different matter.

But she also had other reasons to be alarmed when she thought of

Medinet-el-Fayoum. In Port Said, as well as in Alexandria, Cairo, and in

fact throughout Egypt, people talked of nothing else but the revolt of

the Mahdi and of the cruel deeds of the Dervishes. Although Mrs. Olivier

did not exactly know where Medinet was, she felt uneasy lest it might be

in too close proximity to the Mahdists, and at last she asked Mr.

Rawlison.

But he only smiled and said:

“The Mahdi is at present besieging Khartum, which is defended by General

Gordon. Do you know how far it is from Medinet to Khartum?”

“I have not the least idea.”

“About as far as from here to Sicily,” replied Mr. Tarkowski.

“Almost,” corrected Stasch. “Khartum lies at the junction of the White

Nile and the Blue Nile. Much of Egypt and the whole length of Abyssinia

separate us from it.”

He was on the point of adding that even if Medinet lay nearer the

districts most affected by the insurrection, he would always be there

with his rifle, but when he remembered that he had been repeatedly

reproved by his father for similar bragging he was silent.

The two fathers began conversing about the Mahdi and the insurrection,

for this was the most important news concerning Egypt. The news from

Khartum was not encouraging. The savage tribes had now besieged the town

for nearly a month and a half. The English and Egyptian government

officials were slow to act; the relief army had scarcely started; and

everybody thought that, notwithstanding Gordon’s fame, heroism, and

ability, this important town would fall into the hands of the

barbarians. Mr. Tarkowski, who suspected that England would be only too

glad if the Mahdi were to conquer southern Egypt, so that they might

recapture it from the Mahdi and convert this enormous tract into an

English settlement, was of the same opinion. But he did not say this to

Mr. Rawlison for fear of wounding his patriotic feelings.

When the dinner was nearly finished, Stasch inquired why the Egyptian

Government had annexed all the land south of Nubia—Kordofan, Darfur,

and Sudan as far as the Albert-Nyanza, and why it had robbed the

inhabitants of their liberty. Mr. Rawlison determined to explain this to

him, because every move by the Egyptian Government was made at the

command of England, which had extended her protectorate over Egypt and

ruled it as she pleased.

“The Egyptian Government has deprived no one of his liberty,” said he,

“but instead has returned it to hundreds, thousands, and perhaps

millions. A short time ago there were no independent towns in Kordofan,

Darfur, and Sudan, except here and there where some small potentate

asserted his rights to several districts and appropriated them by force,

against the will of the inhabitants. But on the whole they were

inhabited by independent tribes of Arabo-Negroes; that is to say, by

people having the blood of both these races in their veins. These tribes

were perpetually fighting with one another. They would attack one

another, steal horses, cattle, and especially slaves. At the same time

many atrocious deeds were committed, but the most desperate of these men

were those who hunted for ivory and for slaves. They formed, as it were,

a class apart, and to this class nearly all the chiefs of the tribes and

the prosperous merchants belonged. These men led armed reconnoitering

parties into the interior of Africa, and stole ivory tusks and took

thousands of people—men, women, and children—captive. They also

destroyed villages, settlements, and fields, and spilled rivers of

blood; they mercilessly massacred every one who made any show of

resistance; so much so that the southern part of Sudan, Darfur, and

Kordofan, and also the districts of the upper Nile as far as the lakes,

were almost depopulated in places. But the Arabs advanced still farther,

so that nearly the whole of central Africa was converted into a vale of

tears and blood. Therefore England, which, as you know, pursues all

slave dealers in every part of the world, agreed that the Egyptian

Government should occupy Kordofan, Darfur, and Sudan, for that was the

only way to force these thieves to stop their gruesome slave-trading.

The unhappy negroes breathed freely once more, and, as they were no

longer afraid of being robbed and attacked, they settled down to some

degree of law and order. Apparently this state of affairs did not please

the traders, so when Mohammed Achmed—now called the Mahdi—appeared in

their midst, under the pretext that Mohammedanism in Egypt was on the

decline, and proclaimed the Holy War, all the men of one accord took up

arms, and thus the terrible war began, in which, until now, the

Egyptians have fared very badly. The Mahdi has beaten the Egyptian

troops in every battle, and has taken possession of Kordofan, Darfur,

and Sudan; his tribes are now besieging Khartum and advancing as far

north as the borders of Nubia.”

“And is it possible that they can reach Egypt?” asked Stasch.

“No,” answered Mr. Rawlison. “The Mahdi, it is true, has proclaimed that

he will conquer the whole world, but he is a barbarian and does not know

what he is talking about. He can not conquer Egypt, for England will not

permit it.”

“But suppose the Egyptian army be worsted?”

“Then the English troops, which are invincible, will appear on the

scene.”

“And why did England permit the Mahdi to take possession of so many

districts?”

“How do you know that she permitted him?” answered Mr. Rawlison.

“England never acts in haste, for she is a great nation.”

The conversation was now interrupted by the negro servant, who announced

that Fatima Smain was there and that she earnestly begged an audience.

The women of the Orient practically confine their energies to household

matters, and rarely leave the harem. Only the poorer ones go to market

or work in the fields like the wives of the fellahs (Egyptian peasants),

and they veil their faces. In Sudan, where Fatima came from, this was

not the custom, and although she had been to Mr. Rawlison’s office

before, her appearance in a private house, and especially at this late

hour, seemed rather peculiar.

“We shall learn something new about Smain,” said Mr. Tarkowski.

“Yes,” answered Mr. Rawlison, at the same time motioning the servant to

usher in Fatima.

In a few seconds there appeared a tall, young Sudanese woman; her dark,

beautiful face, with its wild, tragic, and prophetic eyes, was unveiled.

On entering she immediately fell on her face, and when Mr. Rawlison

ordered her to arise she assumed a kneeling position.

[Illustration: “Her dark, beautiful face, with its wild, prophetic

eyes, was unveiled. When Mr. Rawlison ordered her to arise she assumed a

kneeling position.” ]

“Sidi,” she began, “may Allah bless you, your heirs, your house, and

your flocks.”

“What do you want?” asked the engineer.

“Pity, deliverance, and help in time of trouble. Oh, sir, I am

imprisoned in Port Said, and destruction hovers over me and my

children!”

“You say you are imprisoned, and yet you are able to come here even at

night.”

“The Sabties, who guard my house day and night, led me here, and I’m

sure they have been ordered to cut off our heads very soon.”

“Talk like a sensible woman,” answered Mr. Rawlison, frowning. “You are

not in Sudan, but in Egypt, where no one is killed without a judicial

sentence, and so you can rest assured that not a hair of your head or of

your children’s will be touched.”

However, she besought him once more to intercede for her with the

Egyptian Government, and obtain permission for her to travel to meet

Smain. “The English are as great as you, sir,” she said; “they are able

to accomplish anything. The government in Cairo thinks that Smain is

guilty of treason, but that is not true. Yesterday I talked with Arabian

merchants, who came from Suakim, after having bought rubber and ivory in

Sudan, and they told me that Smain lies ill in El-Fasher and bids me and

the children come to him, so that he may bless us.”

“Fatima, you have invented this tale,” interrupted Mr. Rawlison.

She now began to protest by Allah that she was telling the truth, and

then she said that were Smain to recover he would certainly buy the

freedom of all the Christian prisoners, and if he were to die then

she—as a relative of the leader of the Dervishes—would easily gain

admission to him, and be able to obtain anything she asked. If only she

might travel to join her husband, for her heart bled longing to see him!

What had she, unhappy woman done against the government or the Khedive?

She asked if it were her fault, and if she could have prevented her

misfortune in being the relative of the Dervish, Mohammed Achmed.

Fatima did not dare, before Englishmen, to call her relative “the

Mahdi,” as that name means “Saviour of the World”; and she knew that the

Egyptian Government looked upon him as a rebel and a schemer.

Continually bowing and calling on heaven to witness her innocence and

her misfortune, she began to weep piteously, just as women of the Orient

are accustomed to do on the death of their husbands or sons. Then she

threw herself on her face on the ground, or, speaking more correctly, on

the carpet which covered the inlaid floor, and remained silent.

Nell, who had felt somewhat sleepy toward the end of dinner, was now

wide awake, and, as she had a kind heart, she took her father’s hand,

and kissing it over and over again, begged him to say a word in Fatima’s

behalf.

“Won’t you help her, papa? Help her!”

And Fatima, who seemed to understand English, said between her sobs,

without raising her head from the carpet:

“May Allah bless you, you little flower of paradise, Omaj’s delight!

Little star without blemish!”

Although Stasch in his heart of hearts was very angry with the Mahdists,

he was touched by Fatima’s request and by her sorrow. Besides, Nell had

spoken for her, and he always ended by doing what she wanted, and so he

said in an undertone, but still loud enough for all to hear:

“If I were the government, I would allow Fatima to leave.”

“But as you are not the government,” answered Mr. Tarkowski, “you had

better not interfere in things that don’t concern you.”

Mr. Rawlison also had a compassionate heart, and he felt much sympathy

for Fatima, but various things she had said seemed to him to be

downright lies. As he practically did business daily in connection with

the custom-house in Ismailia, he knew very well that no cargoes of

rubber or ivory had passed through the canal lately. The trade in these

goods had almost ceased. Besides, he knew that Arabian merchants could

not return from the town El-Fasher, in Sudan, for from the beginning of

the war the Mahdists absolutely refused to let merchants pass, and those

they caught they robbed and took prisoners. Besides, it was almost

certain that the tale of Smain’s illness was a lie.

But as Nell continued to look beseechingly at her father, the latter,

not wishing to sadden the girl, said to Fatima:

“Fatima, I have, as you requested, written to the government, but have

received no answer as yet. And now listen. To-morrow we are going with

the Mehendis (engineers) to Medinet-el-Fayoum. On the way we shall

remain a day in Cairo, for the Khedive wishes to speak to us and give us

orders about things concerning the canal, which is being directed from

Bahr-Yoosuf. During the conversation I will try to tell him your

position and gain his good will for you; but I can do no more, and I can

not promise anything.”

Fatima arose, and stretching out both hands in thanks, she cried out:

“And so I’m saved!”

“No, Fatima,” replied Mr. Rawlison, “do not speak of deliverance, for I

have already told you that neither you nor your children are threatened

with death. But whether or not the Khedive will permit you to depart I

can not tell, for Smain is not ill, but a traitor, who, after having

taken with him the government’s money, has not the least idea of

redeeming the prisoners taken by Mohammed Achmed.”

“Sir, Smain is innocent, and he is in El-Fasher,” repeated Fatima; “and

even if he had been unfaithful to the government, I swear to you, my

benefactor, that if I am permitted to leave I shall plead with Mohammed

until I have succeeded in making him release your prisoners.”

“Very well; I promise you once more that I will intercede for you with

the Khedive.”

Fatima began to bow very low.

“Sidi, I thank you. You are not only powerful, but just. And now I beg

you to let us serve you as slaves.”

“In Egypt there are no slaves,” answered Mr. Rawlison with a smile. “I

have servants enough, and besides, I would not be able to give you a

position as servant, for, as I have already told you, we are going to

Medinet, and we may stay there till the feast of Ramadan.”

“Sir, I know it, for the overseer Chadigi told me; and when I heard it I

not only came to beg you for help, but also to tell you that two men of

my tribe (the Dangali), Idris and Gebhr, are camel-drivers in Medinet,

and that as soon as you reach there they will place themselves and their

camels at your disposal.”

“Good, good!” answered the director; “but the Cook Company is attending

to all these details for us.”

Kissing the hands of the two gentlemen and the children, Fatima

departed, blessing Nell as she went. The two engineers were silent for a

while and then Mr. Rawlison said:

“Poor woman! She tells lies such as no one outside of the Orient would

dream of. Even in her shower of thanks a false note is heard.”

“Certainly,” answered Mr. Tarkowski. “But it is also true that, whether

Smain be a traitor or not, the government has no right to detain her in

Egypt, for she is not responsible for her husband’s acts.”

“The government at this time does not permit any Sudanese to travel to

Suakim and Nubia without permission, and this does not apply to Fatima

only. There are many Sudanese in Egypt; they came here to make money,

and among them are a certain number belonging to the Dangali tribe, from

which the Mahdi comes. For instance, to it belong not only Fatima, but

Chadigi and those two camel-drivers in Medinet. The Mahdists say the

Egyptians are Turks, and are at war with them, and among the Arabs

settled here are numerous followers of the Mahdi, who would like to go

over to his side if they dared. They include all fanatics, all followers

of Arabi Pasha, and many of the poorer classes. They are at outs with

the government for having submitted to English influence, and pretend

their religion suffers in consequence. Heaven knows how many have

already fled by way of the desert, and by so doing have avoided the

usual water route to Suakim, and as the government found out that Fatima

had attempted to escape also, it ordered her to be placed under guard.

Only by exchanging her and her children—as they are related to the

Mahdi—for our men captured by them may we hope to get them back.”

“Do the lower classes in Egypt really sympathize with the Mahdi?”

“The Mahdi has followers even among our soldiers, and perhaps that is

the reason they fight so badly.”

“But how can the Sudanese escape by way of the desert? It is thousands

of miles long.”

“And yet slaves have been brought into Egypt that way.”

“I do not believe that Fatima’s children could stand a journey like

that.”

“But she will make it shorter by crossing over to Suakim.”

“All the same, she is a poor woman.”

Thus the conversation ended.

And twelve hours later, after the “poor woman” had carefully locked

herself in her house with the son of the overseer Chadigi, with raised

eyebrows and a lowering glance in her lovely eyes, she whispered:

“Chamis, son of Chadigi, take this money; start to-day for Medinet, and

give Idris this writing, which, at my request, the holy Dervish Ballali

wrote to him. The children of these Mehendisi are good (i.e., good

material to be used to further our ends)—there is no other way—if I

can not gain permission to travel. I know that you will not betray

me. . . . Remember that you and your father belong to the Dangali tribe,

the same tribe to which the Mahdi belongs.”

CHAPTER III

On the following day the two engineers left for Cairo to visit the

English residents, and also to have an audience with the viceroy. Stasch

calculated that this might take two days; he was right, for on the

evening of the third day he received the following telegram, sent from

Medinet by his father: “The tents are ready. Start when your holidays

begin. Send word to Fatima by Chadigi that we were unable to do anything

for her.” Mrs. Olivier received a similar telegram, and so she, assisted

by Dinah, began at once to prepare for the journey. The children were

overjoyed to see the packing going on, but suddenly something occurred

that upset all their plans and came near preventing their departure. For

during the first day of Stasch’s winter vacation, on the evening of

which they had planned to make their departure, Mrs. Olivier, when

taking her afternoon nap in the garden, was bitten by a scorpion, and

although the bite of this poisonous creature is not so dangerous in

Egypt, in this case it might prove very serious. The scorpion had crept

over the back of a canvas chair and bitten her in the neck just as she

had mashed it with her head; and as she had formerly suffered from

erysipelas, it was feared that she might have a relapse. A doctor was

immediately summoned, but as he was busy elsewhere, he did not arrive

for two hours. By this time her neck and even her face were swollen, and

she had a fever accompanied by the usual symptoms of poison. The doctor

explained that under these circumstances she must not dream of going,

and he ordered her to bed; and so it seemed as though the children would

have to spend their Christmas at home. But to Nell’s credit be it said,

she thought more—especially at first—about the sufferings of her

governess than the pleasures she would miss by not going to Medinet. But

when she realized that she could not see her father again for several

weeks she wept in secret. Stasch did not take the matter so

philosophically, and so he sent a telegram followed by a letter asking

what was to be done. Mr. Rawlison, after having communicated with the

doctor and learning from him that there was no immediate danger and that

he had only forbidden Mrs. Olivier to leave Port Said because he feared

the erysipelas might set in again, first arranged for her to have every

care and comfort and then gave the children permission to start on the

journey with Dinah. But as Dinah, notwithstanding her boundless

affection for Nell, was scarcely competent to take charge of the journey

and make arrangements for them in the hotel, Stasch was to be guide and

cashier. One can readily imagine how proud he was of this rôle, and with

what lordly pride he assured Nell that not a hair of her head would be

touched, as if the road to Cairo and Medinet presented no difficulties

or dangers.

As everything was now ready, the children left that very day, traveling

by the canal to Ismailia, and from there by train to Cairo, where they

were to spend the night and be ready to go on to Medinet the following

day. When they left Ismailia they saw Timsah Lake, which Stasch had seen

before; for Mr. Tarkowski, who was a very enthusiastic hunter in his

leisure hours, sometimes took him along to shoot water-birds. Then the

road followed the Wadi Tumilat, close by the fresh-water canal which

connects the Nile with Ismailia and Suez. This canal was dug before the

Suez Canal; if it had not been, the workmen employed in Lesseps’ great

undertaking would not have had a drop of water to drink. The digging of

this canal had another good result: the stretch of land, which had been

a barren waste before, now blossomed once more when the wide and rapid

stream of fresh water flowed through it. From the car windows the

children saw a large belt of vegetation on the left side, consisting of

meadows on which horses, camels, and sheep were grazing, and plowed

fields, Turkish wheat, millet, alfa, and other species of grain and

field plants. On the bank of the canal could be seen all kinds of wells,

above which were large wheels fitted up with pails or ordinary cranes

that drew up the water, which the fellahs assiduously spread over the

beds or carried away in barrels on little wagons drawn by buffaloes.

Over the sprouting grain-seeds hovered doves and sometimes flocks of

quail. On the edges of the canal storks and cranes walked gravely up and

down. In the distance, over the clay huts of the fellahs, towered crowns

of date-palms that looked like large feather dusters.

On the other hand, north of the railway lay a wilderness, but it did not

resemble the one on the other side of the Suez Canal. That looked like

the flat sandy bed of a dried-up sea, while here the sand was more

yellow, and was piled up into large hillocks covered with scanty

vegetation. Between these hillocks, which in places attained a great

height, lay broad valleys, through which now and then caravans were seen

passing.

From the car windows the children saw loaded camels walking single file

in a long line. In front of each camel strode an Arab in black coat and

white turban. Little Nell remembered the pictures she had seen in the

Bible at home, which represented the Israelites and described how they

journeyed to Egypt in the time of Joseph. They seemed just like these

men. Unfortunately, she could not get a very good look at the caravans,

because two English officers sat near the windows, which obstructed her

view.

She had no sooner told Stasch of this than, turning to the officers,

very seriously, and touching his hat, he said:

“Gentlemen, would you mind making room for this little lady, who would

like to look at the camels?”

The two officers listened with all due seriousness, and one of them not

only made room for the curious “little lady,” but lifted her up and put

her on the seat next the window.

Stasch immediately began to lecture.

“That is the old district of Gessen,” said Stasch, “that Pharao gave

Joseph for his brethren, the Israelites. Once, in fact very long ago,

there was a fresh-water canal here, so that this new one is only the old

one rebuilt. Later it was destroyed and the country became a desert. Now

the ground is becoming fertile again.”

“How does the gentleman know this?” asked one of the officers.

“Nowadays people know these things,” replied Stasch; “and besides,

Professor Sterling lectured to us long ago on Wadi Tumilat.”

Although Stasch spoke English very fluently, he had a rather peculiar

accent; this attracted the attention of the second officer, who asked:

“Is not the young gentleman an Englishman?”

“This little lady is Miss Nell, whom her father has placed in my care

during the journey. I am not an Englishman, but a Pole, and a son of one

of the engineers of the canal.”

The officer smiled at this answer, which the boy gave disjointedly, and

said:

“I esteem the Poles very highly. I belong to a regiment of cavalry that

in Napoleon’s day fought side by side with the Polish Uhlans in several

battles, the memory of which, even to the present day, is enshrined in

honor and glory.”[1]

“I am pleased to meet you,” answered Stasch.

The conversation ran along pleasantly, for the officers seemed to be

entertained. It happened that these officers were traveling from Port

Said to Cairo, to see the English ambassador and to receive from him

final instructions in regard to the long journey which lay before them.

The younger of the two was a doctor in the army, and the one who talked

to Stasch, Captain Glen, was traveling from Cairo by way of Suez to

Mombasa, where he was to rule over the entire district surrounding this

harbor, which stretched out as far as the Samburuland and Rudolf Lake.

Stasch, who enjoyed reading stories of African travels, knew that

Mombasa lay several degrees beyond the equator. He knew, too, that the

bordering countries, although the English now find them interesting, are

really but little known, being quite wild, full of elephants, giraffes,

rhinoceroses, buffaloes, and all kinds of antelopes, which are

constantly seen by army merchants and missionary expeditions. So the boy

envied Captain Glen from the bottom of his heart and promised to visit

him in Mombasa, so that he might hunt lions and buffaloes with him.

“All right, but I beg for a visit from this little lady,” answered

Captain Glen, laughing and pointing to Nell, who had just left the

window to sit down beside him.

“Miss Rawlison has her father,” answered Stasch, “and I am only taking

care of her during the journey.”

Thereupon the second officer turned round suddenly and asked: “Rawlison?

Is he not the canal director who has a brother in Bombay?”

“My uncle lives in Bombay,” answered Nell, raising a finger.

“In that case, my dear, your uncle is married to my sister. My name is

Clary. We are related, and I am heartily glad that I have met you and

made your acquaintance, little one.”

The doctor was very much pleased. He said that as soon as he arrived in

Port Said he had inquired for Mr. Rawlison at the director’s office, but

was told that he had gone away for the holidays. He also expressed his

regret that the ship in which he and Glen were going to Mombasa was to

sail from Suez in a few days, and so he would be unable to take a trip

to Medinet. He asked Nell to remember him to her father, and promised to

write to her from Mombasa.

The two officers now directed most of their conversation to Nell, so

that Stasch was somewhat in the background. At every station dozens of

oranges, fresh dates, and even excellent sherbet were served. Stasch and

Nell did full justice to these good things, as did Dinah also, for among

her other excellent qualities was an unusual fondness for eating.

In this way the journey to Cairo passed very quickly. The officers on

leaving kissed Nell’s little hands and head, and shook Stasch by the

hand, and then Captain Glen, who admired the resolute boy very much,

said, half in earnest and half in jest:

“Listen, my boy! Who knows where, when, and under what circumstances we

may meet again? But remember that you can always count on my good will

and my help.”

“And I can promise the same to you, sir,” answered Stasch, making a

dignified bow.

-----

Footnote 1:

The English mounted troops which fought with the Polish cavalry against

Napoleon boast of it even to this day, and the officers, when speaking

of their regiment, never fail to say, “We fought with the Poles.”—S.

Chevrillon, “Aux Indes.”

CHAPTER IV

Mr. Tarkowski and Mr. Rawlison, who loved his little Nell more than his

life, were delighted at the arrival of the children. The two young

people greeted their fathers with equal enthusiasm, and at once began to

inspect the tents, the interiors of which were all completely fitted up

and prepared to welcome the beloved guests. They saw that the tents were

as spacious as large rooms, handsomely fitted with a double roof, lined

with blue and red flannel, and that the floors were covered with rugs.

The Cook Company, which was so well thought of by the high officials of

the canal, had done all in their power to make things comfortable and

pleasant for them. At first Mr. Rawlison had feared that a lengthy stay

in the tent might injure Nell’s health, but at last he gave his consent,

because in bad weather they could always move to the hotel. But now,

having taken a good look at everything, including the surroundings, he

came to the conclusion that the days and nights spent in the open air

would be a hundred times better for his only daughter than the gloomy

rooms of a small town hotel. They were also fortunate in having fine

weather. Medinet, surrounded on all sides by the sandy hills of the

Libyan desert, has a far better climate than Cairo, and is not named

“land of roses” without good reason. As a result of its protected

position, and because of the moisture in the air, the nights are not

nearly so cold as in other southernly parts of Egypt, and the winter is

really delightful. In November the vegetation is most luxuriant.

Date-palms, olives (not many of which are found in Egypt), figs and

orange-trees, enormous nuts, pomegranates, and various other southern

plants cover this beautiful oasis like a forest. The gardens are fairly

overrun with acacias, lilacs, and roses, so that during the night every

breath of air carries their overpowering perfume. One breathes here from

the bottom of one’s lungs, and “does not want to die,” as the natives

say. Heluan, on the opposite bank of the Nile, is the only other place

with a similar climate, although it is situated much farther north, and

therefore the vegetation is not so luxuriant.

But Heluan had sad associations for Mr. Rawlison, for it was there that

Nell’s mother had died. Therefore he preferred Medinet, and as he looked

at the beaming face of the little girl he resolved to buy some land and

a garden here, to build a comfortable English house, and to spend every

holiday he could procure in this favored spot, and perhaps, when his

services were no longer necessary on the canal, to make this his

permanent residence. But these were embryo plans for the distant future.

Meanwhile, the children had been flitting about like flies ever since

their arrival, for they wanted to see all the tents, as well as the

donkeys and camels hired by Cook, before dinner-time. But it so happened

that the animals were grazing some distance away, so that the children

could not see them until the next day. On the other hand, to compensate

them for their disappointment, Nell and Stasch were delighted to see

Chamis, the son of Chadigi, their good friend from Port Said. He was not

one of Cook’s servants, and even Mr. Rawlison was surprised to see him

in Medinet, but as he had previously employed Chamis to carry his

instruments, he took him along now to run errands and perform other

services.

The evening meal proved to be very good, for the old Copt, who for

several years filled the position as cook for the company, took pride in

showing his skill. The children told how they had made the acquaintance

of the officers during the journey, and this especially interested Mr.

Rawlison, whose brother Richard was married to one of Dr. Clary’s

sisters, and had resided in India for several years. As they were

without children, the uncle was very fond of his little niece, whom he

only knew from photographs, and he inquired about her in all his

letters. The two fathers were also much amused at the invitation which

Stasch had received from Captain Glen to go to Mombasa. The boy took

this invitation quite seriously, and made up his mind some day to visit

his new friend on the other side of the equator. Mr. Tarkowski was

obliged to explain to him that the English officials never stay long on

duty in the same place—owing to the treacherous climate of Africa—and

before he, Stasch, would be grown up the captain would be at his tenth

post, or perhaps no longer in this world.

After dinner the whole party went outside the tents, where the servants

put up canvas chairs, and prepared siphons of soda-water and brandy for

the two gentlemen. It was now night and unusually warm, and the full

moon made it as brilliant as day. The white walls of the ugly buildings

looked green in contrast to the tents, the stars twinkled in the

firmament, and the air was filled with the perfume of roses, acacias,

and heliotrope. The town was now asleep. In the silence of the night all

that could be heard was an occasional loud cry from the cranes, herons,

and flamingoes, the sound of which came in with the breeze from the Nile

toward Karoon Lake. Suddenly the bark of a dog was heard, which

surprised Stasch and Nell, for it seemed to come from the tent they had

not yet visited, in which were kept saddles, tools, and various things

necessary in traveling.

“What a large dog that must be,” said Stasch.

Mr. Tarkowski began to laugh. Mr. Rawlison also laughed; then knocking

the ashes off his cigar, he said:

“Well, it was no use to lock him up.”

Then he turned to the children.

“To-morrow, as you know, will be Christmas, and this dog was to be a

surprise for Nell from Mr. Tarkowski, but as the surprise has begun to

bark I am obliged to tell you about it to-day.”

When Nell heard this she quickly climbed on Mr. Tarkowski’s knee and put

her arms around his neck; then she jumped on her father’s knee.

“Papa, dear, how happy I am, how happy!”

The embraces and kisses seemed endless; at last Nell stood on her feet,

and looking into Mr. Tarkowski’s eyes, said:

“Mr. Tarkowski—”

“Well, Nell, what is it?”

“Now that I’ve found out he is here, I ought to see him to-day!”

“I knew,” cried Mr. Rawlison, pretending to be very much excited over

the matter, “that this little fly would not be content with only hearing

about it.”

Mr. Tarkowski turned to Chadigi’s son and said:

“Chamis, bring the dog here.”

The Sudanese at once disappeared behind the kitchen-tent and soon

stepped forth leading an enormous animal in leash.

Nell drew back.

“Oh,” she cried out, seizing her father’s hand.

But Stasch, on the contrary, went into ecstasies.

“That is a lion, not a dog.”

“His name is Saba (lion),” answered Mr. Tarkowski. “He belongs to the

breed of mastiffs, the largest dogs in the world. This one is only two

years old, but is already enormous. Don’t be afraid, Nell. He is as

gentle as a lamb. Chamis, let him loose!”

Chamis let go the leash and the dog, feeling himself free, began to wag

his tail, to rub himself up against Mr. Tarkowski, with whom he had

already made friends, and to bark for joy.

By the light of the moon the children admired his large round head with

its hanging lips, his strong paws, his great size, which with the golden

yellow of his whole body gave him the appearance of a lion. In all their

lives they had never seen anything like him.

“With such a dog one could safely wander through Africa,” cried Stasch.

“Ask him if he can catch a rhinoceros for us,” said Mr. Tarkowski.

It is true Saba could not answer this question, but he wagged his tail

still harder and rubbed himself up against them so confidingly that Nell

suddenly lost all fear and began to stroke his head.

“Saba, dear, good Saba!”

Mr. Rawlison bent down over him, raised his head toward the little

girl’s face, and said:

“Saba, look at this little lady. She is your mistress. You must obey and

protect her—do you understand?”

“Wurgh!” Saba was heard to say in a deep bass, as if he really

understood what was wanted of him.

And he did understand even better than one would imagine, for he took

advantage of his head being nearly on a level with the girl’s face to

lick her little nose and cheeks with his broad tongue as a sign of

allegiance.

That made every one laugh. Nell had to go into the tent to wash her

face. When she returned after a quarter of an hour she saw that Saba had

laid his paws on Stasch’s shoulders, and that Stasch bent under the

weight. The dog was a head taller than he.

Meanwhile bedtime had arrived, but the little girl begged to be allowed

to talk for another half-hour to get better acquainted with her new

friend. And they became friends so soon that it was not long before Mr.

Tarkowski placed her on his back, as ladies ride. She was afraid of

falling off, so he held her, and told Stasch to lead the dog by the

collar. After she had ridden a short distance Stasch tried to mount this

peculiar saddle-horse, but the latter quickly sat on his hind legs and

Stasch unexpectedly found himself on the sand.

The children were just about going to bed when from afar off, on the

moon-lit public square, two white figures appeared, running toward the

tent.

Saba, who until now had been so gentle, began to bark in a deep and

menacing manner, so that Mr. Rawlison ordered Chamis to hold him by the

collar again. Meanwhile the two men, dressed in white burnooses, stopped

before the tent.

“Who is there?” asked Mr. Tarkowski.

“Camel-drivers,” said one of the newcomers.

“Ah, you are Idris and Gebhr? What do you wish?”

“We have come to ask whether you will need us to-morrow?”

“No. To-morrow and the day after are great holidays, during which it is

not customary for us to make excursions. Come three days from now, early

in the morning.”

“We thank you, effendi.”

“And have you good camels?” asked Mr. Rawlison.

“Bismillah!” answered Idris. “Real saddle-horses with fat humps and

gentle as lambs. Otherwise Cook would not have engaged us.”

“Do they not jolt considerably?”

“Sir, you can lay a handful of beans on the backs of any of them, and

not one will fall off, no matter how fast they gallop.”

“If he’s exaggerating he at least does it in true Arab style,” said Mr.

Tarkowski, laughing.

“Or in Sudanese style,” added Mr. Rawlison.

Meanwhile Idris and Gebhr still stood there like two white posts and

carefully surveyed Stasch and Nell. The moonlight illuminated the faces

of the two sand-drivers and made them look as if carved out of bronze.

The whites of their eyes looked greenish from beneath their turbans.

“Good-night,” said Mr. Rawlison.

“May Allah protect you by day and by night, effendi!”

At these words they bowed and departed. Saba was evidently not pleased

with the two Sudanese, and as they left he sent a deep, thunderous growl

after them.

CHAPTER V

For some days following they made no excursions. But to compensate for

this, when the first star appeared on Christmas night Mr. Rawlison’s

tent was illuminated with hundreds of lights burning on the little

Christmas-tree for Nell. The customary fir-tree had been replaced by a

salpiglossis plant cut out of a garden in Medinet, but nevertheless Nell

found among its branches a quantity of dainties to eat, and a beautiful

doll, which her father had bought for her in Cairo. Stasch received from

his father the much-longed-for English gun, besides cartridges, hunting

paraphernalia, and a riding-saddle.

Nell was beside herself with joy, and Stasch, although imagining that

any one owning a real gun should be correspondingly sedate, could not

keep away from it, and choosing a moment when everything was quiet

around the tent, he walked about on his hands. He was especially clever

in performing this feat, which he had often practised at school in Port

Said, and he sometimes did it to entertain Nell, who envied him his

skill.

Christmas day and the first part of the vacation the children spent

inspecting their presents and training Saba. Their new friend proved to

be exceedingly intelligent. On the very first day he learned to give his

paw, bring handkerchiefs—which, however, he did not return

willingly—and he was made to comprehend that it was not the thing for a

gentleman’s dog to lick Nell’s face. Nell held her finger up and taught

him various things, and by the affirmative wagging of his tail he gave

her to understand that he was listening with due attention and was

profiting by these good lessons. During the walks in the sandy town

square in Medinet, Saba became more famous every hour, but this, like

all fame, had a reverse side, for he drew a great crowd of Arab children

after him. At first they remained at a distance, but becoming bolder on

account of the gentleness of the “monster,” they approached, and at last

swarmed around the tent, so that no one could move freely. And as every

Arab child sucks a piece of sugar-cane from morning till night, the

children are always followed by swarms of flies, which are not only

annoying, but dangerous, for they spread the germs of the Egyptian

eye-disease. Therefore the servants tried to drive away the children.

But Nell not only interfered to protect them, but divided amongst the

younger ones sweetmeats, which caused them to adore her and at the same

time naturally increased their numbers.

Three days later the general excursions began. Sometimes they traveled

on the narrow-gage railroads, of which the English had built many in

Medinet-el-Fayoum, sometimes partly on donkeys, and again on camels. It

is true they found that the praise bestowed on these animals by Idris

was much exaggerated, for not only beans, but people, found it difficult

to stay on their backs. Yet after all there was a tiny grain of truth in

what he said. The camels really did belong to the riding species, and as

they were well fed with maize, they had fat humps, and showed such an

inclination to gallop that they had to be held back.

The Sudanese, Idris and Gebhr, notwithstanding the savage glare in their

eyes, gained the confidence and approval of the party, especially on

account of the zest with which they worked and the great attention they

paid to Nell. Gebhr had always a cruel, brutal expression on his face,

but Idris, who was not slow to notice every one of the party adored this

little person as the apple of his eye, declared over and over again that

he would be more careful of her than of himself. Nevertheless, Mr.

Rawlison imagined that Idris wanted to get at his pocket by means of

Nell, but as he thought that nobody could help loving his dear little

only daughter, he was grateful to him and did not spare the bakshish.

In the course of five days the party visited the ruins of

Crocodilopolis, which lie near the town. It is there the Egyptians used

to pray to their god, Sobek, who had a human body with a crocodile’s

head. The next excursion was made to the Hawara pyramid and the ruins of

the Labyrinth, and the longest excursion, made on camel-back, was to

Karoon Lake. The northern bank of this lake, save for the ruins of some

old Egyptian towns, is a wilderness in which not a vestige of life

remains; but south of the lake stretches a beautiful, fertile region,

the banks being overgrown with heather and canebrake, in which

innumerable flocks of pelicans, flamingoes, herons, wild geese, and

ducks make their homes. There Stasch found his first opportunity to show

what a good aim he could take and what a good shot he was. Whether he

used an ordinary gun or his Renommier rifle, his shots were so true that

after each one the astonished Idris and the Arab rowers smacked their

lips, and each time a bird fell into the water they cried out,

“Bismillah and Manalieh!”

The Arabs declared that there were a great many wolves and hyenas on the

bank opposite the wilderness, and that if the carcass of a sheep were to

be hidden there they would be almost certain of getting a shot. In

consequence of what they heard Mr. Tarkowski and Stasch spent two nights

in the wilderness near the ruins of Dimeh. But the Bedouins stole the

first sheep as soon as the huntsmen had left, and the second only

attracted a lame jackal, which Stasch brought down. All further hunting

had to be postponed, for it was now time for the two engineers to begin

their journey to inspect the water-works being erected at Bahr-Yoosuf,

in the vicinity of El-Lahun, to the southeast of Medinet. Mr. Rawlison

was only waiting for the arrival of Mrs. Olivier. But, unfortunately,

instead of her arrival, they received a letter from the doctor telling

them that she was again a victim of erysipelas, due to the bite, and

would be unable to leave Port Said for some time. They were in a

predicament. It was impossible for them to take the children, old Dinah,

the tents, and all the servants with them, because the engineers would

be here to-day and there to-morrow, and they might receive an order to

go as far as the great Ibrahim Canal. Therefore, after some

consideration Mr. Rawlison decided to leave Nell behind in care of Dinah

and Stasch, and also of the agent of the Italian Consul and the native

“Moodir” or governor. Mr. Rawlison promised Nell, who was very unwilling

to part with her father, that whenever feasible he and Mr. Tarkowski

would make trips to Medinet when in the vicinity, and that they would

invite the children to come to them if there should be anything

especially worth seeing.

“We are taking Chamis along with us,” he said, “and we will send him to

you if necessary. Dinah must always accompany Nell; but as Nell does

what she likes with her, you, Stasch, must look after both of them.”

“You can rest assured,” answered Stasch, “that I shall protect Nell as

if she were my own sister. She has Saba, I have the rifle, and now let

any one dare harm her.”

“That is not the point!” said Mr. Rawlison. “You can not possibly need

Saba and the rifle. Only please see that she does not get too tired, and

also that she does not take cold. I have asked the Consul to send for a

doctor from Cairo at once should she become ill. We will send Chamis as

often as possible to bring us news from you. The Moodir will also visit

you. Besides, I hope we shall not be away very long.”

Mr. Tarkowski also cautioned Stasch well. He told him that Nell did not

need his protection, for in Medinet, as also in the whole province of

El-Fayoum, there were no wild people nor wild animals, and that it would

be ridiculous, and unworthy of a boy in his fourteenth year, to imagine

such a thing. And so he had only to be careful and attentive, and not to

undertake any kind of an expedition on his own account, especially on

camels with Nell, for one ride on them tires any one out. But when Nell

heard this she looked so sad that Mr. Tarkowski had to calm her.

“Of course,” he said, stroking her hair, “you shall ride on camels, but

with us, or on the way to us, when we send Chamis to fetch you.”

“And can we not make any excursions by ourselves, not even tiny little

ones?” asked the girl.

And with her forefinger she demonstrated exactly the size of the little

excursions. The fathers at last gave in, on condition that they would be

led on donkeys and not on camels, and that they were not to go out to

the ruins, where they might easily fall into a hole, but on the roads to

the neighboring fields and the gardens on the outskirts of the town. The

Dragomans and Cooks servants were always to accompany the children.

Then the two gentlemen left, but they did not go far away—only to

Hawaret-el-Makta—so that ten hours later they were able to return to

Medinet for the night. This they did for several successive days, until

they had inspected the work in the vicinity. Then, as they were obliged

to inspect work in places somewhat farther away, Chamis came riding up

at night, and early in the morning took Stasch and Nell along with him

to the little town where their fathers wanted to show them something of

interest. The children spent most of the day with their fathers, and

toward sunset returned to their tents in Medinet. But some days Chamis

did not come, and then Nell, notwithstanding she had the company of

Stasch and Saba, in whom she always discovered new talents, would watch

lovingly for the messenger. In this manner the time passed until the

feast of the Three Holy Kings, on which day the two engineers returned

to Medinet.

Two days later they went away again, after having announced that they

would now be gone a longer time, and would probably travel as far as

Beni Suef, and from there to El-Fasher, to the canal which stretches

along the Nile far southward. Therefore the children were greatly

surprised when Chamis appeared at Medinet on the third day about eleven

o’clock. Stasch, who had gone to the pasture to watch the camels, saw

him first. Chamis talked with Idris and told Stasch that he was there

only on his and Nell’s account, and that he was coming to the tents to

tell them where their two fathers had ordered them to go. The boy

immediately ran with this great piece of news to Nell, whom he found

playing with Saba before the tent.

“Have you heard the news yet? Chamis is here!” he cried out from afar.

Nell immediately began to hop, holding both feet together, as little

girls do when skipping.

“We are going away! We are going away!”

“Yes, we are going away, and quite far away.”

“And where to?” asked she, brushing aside the hair from her forehead.

“I don’t know. Chamis said he would come here directly and tell us.”

“Then how do you know that we are going far away?”

“Because I heard Idris say that he and Gebhr would depart at once with

the camels. That means that we are going by train and that the camels

will be sent there in advance to where our fathers are, and from there

we shall make various excursions.”

Nell had hopped about so long that her loose front hair covered not only

her eyes, but her whole face, and her feet rebounded as quickly as

though made of rubber.

A quarter of an hour later Chamis came and bowed before them:

“Khauagé (young man),” said he to Stasch, “we leave in three hours by

the next train.”

“For what place?”

“To El-Gharak el-Sultani, and from there, together with the two

gentlemen, on camels to Wadi Rayan.”

Stasch’s heart beat with joy, but at the same time he was surprised at

Chamis’ words. He knew that Wadi Rayan was a large, round, sandy ledge

of rocks which rises in the Libyan Desert to the south and southwest of

Medinet, and that Mr. Tarkowski and Mr. Rawlison had said when they left

that they were going in a diametrically opposite direction—toward the

Nile.

“What has happened?” asked Stasch. “So my father and Mr. Rawlison are

not in Beni Suef, but in El-Gharak?”

“That is so,” answered Chamis.

“But they have given orders to have their letters sent to El-Fasher.”

“In this letter the elder effendi tells why they are in El-Gharak.” And

he searched his clothes a while for the letter, and then called out:

“Oh, Nabi! (prophet) I have left the letter in the packet with the

camel-drivers. I will run and get it before Idris and Gebhr depart.”

He ran to the camel-drivers, and meanwhile the children and Dinah began

to prepare for the journey. As a longer excursion lay before them, Dinah

packed up some underlinen and warmer clothes for Nell. Stasch also

thought of his things, and took special pains not to forget the rifle

and the cartridges, as he hoped to come across wolves and hyenas on the

sand-dunes of Wadi Rayan.

Chamis did not return until an hour later, so bathed in perspiration and

so out of breath that he could hardly speak a word.

“I did not reach the camel-drivers in time,” he finally said. “I tried

to overtake them, but without success. But that is of no consequence,

for we shall find the letter and also the two effendis in El-Gharak. Is

Dinah going with us?”

“What?”

“Perhaps it would be better for her to stay behind. Neither of the

effendis has said anything about her.”

“Still they planned the journey, arranging for Dinah always to accompany

the little girl, and therefore she will go with us on this trip.”

Chamis bowed, placed his hand on his heart, and said:

“Sir, let us hurry or else we shall miss the katr (train).”

The baggage was ready, and they arrived at the station in time. It was

not over thirty kilometers from Medinet to Gharak, but the train on the

little branch line which connects these towns goes so slowly and stops

so often that if Stasch had been alone he doubtless would have preferred

traveling by camel to going by train, for he calculated that Idris and

Gebhr, who had departed two hours earlier, would reach Gharak before

him. But this would have been too long a journey for Nell; so her young

protector, having been cautioned by both fathers, was very careful not

to fatigue the girl. Besides, time passed so rapidly that they hardly

knew that they had arrived at Gharak.

The little station, from which Englishmen usually made excursions to

Wadi Rayan, was quite deserted. They saw only several veiled women with

baskets of oranges, two strange Bedouins, camel-drivers, and Idris and

Gebhr with seven camels, one of which was laden with luggage. On the

other hand, there was not a trace of Mr. Tarkowski or Mr. Rawlison; but

Idris explained their absence as follows:

“Both gentlemen have ridden toward the desert to set up the tent they

brought from Estah, and have instructed us to follow them.”

“And how can we find them among the mountains?” said Stasch.

“They have sent guides to meet us.”

At these words he pointed to the Bedouins, the elder of whom bowed down

before them, rubbed his finger in his one remaining eye, and said:

“Our camels are not so fat as yours, but they are just as agile. We

shall be there in an hour.”

Stasch felt glad that they could spend the night in the desert, but Nell

was somewhat disappointed; until now she had certainly expected to meet

her papa in Gharak.

In the meanwhile the station-master, a drowsy Egyptian wearing a red

fez, approached, and as he had nothing else to do he began to gaze at

the European children.

“These are the children of the Inglesi who rode toward the desert early

this morning armed with guns,” said Idris, as he lifted Nell into the

saddle.

Stasch gave his gun to Chamis and seated himself beside Nell, for the

saddle was large and fashioned like a palanquin, except that it had no

roof. Dinah sat down behind Chamis, the others also mounted camels and

followed them, and so they all departed.

Had the station-master looked after them he might have been surprised,

for the Englishmen of whom Idris had spoken were traveling directly

toward the ruins in Sudan, whereas the children were going straight

toward Talei, in an opposite direction. But he had gone into his house,

for there were no more trains to stop at Gharak that day.

It was five o’clock in the afternoon and the weather was remarkably

fine. The sun had passed to the western side of the Nile and was sinking

below the desert. The golden and purple hues of the sunset illuminated

that side of the heavens. The atmosphere was so permeated with the glow

as to be nearly blinding in its brilliancy. The fields assumed a lilac

hue, but the heights, taking on a pure amethyst color, were sharply

outlined against the twilight background. The world lost all semblance

to reality, and the light effects were as weird as those seen in some

plays.

As long as they rode over green and plowed land the Bedouin leader led

the march at a moderate pace, but the moment the camels felt the desert

sand crunch under their feet the whole scene suddenly changed.

“Allah! Allah!” screamed the savage voices of the Bedouins.

At the same time the cracking of whips was heard, and the camels,

changing from a trot to a gallop, began to race like a whirlwind,

throwing clouds of the sand and loose gravel into the air with their

feet.

“Allah! Allah!”

When a camel trots he shakes his rider up more than when he gallops—a

gait these animals seldom use—for then he sways more. And so this wild

ride amused the children at first. But it is well known that too rapid

swinging causes dizziness, and after a long time, as their pace did not

slacken, little Nell’s head began to swim and everything became

indistinct before her eyes.

“Stasch, why are we racing so?” she cried, as she turned toward her

companion.

“I think they have given the camels a loose rein and now they can not

hold them back,” Stasch replied.

But when he saw that the girl’s face was somewhat pale, he called to the

Bedouins, who were racing along ahead of them, to go more slowly. But

his cries only resulted in their screaming “Allah!” again and the

animals increasing their speed.

At first the boy thought that the Bedouins had not heard him, but when

there was no answer to his repeated demands, and when Gebhr, who was

riding behind them, continued to whip up the camel on which he and Nell

sat, he came to the conclusion that instead of the camels having broken

loose, it was the men who were hurrying them along for some reason of

their own.

It occurred to him that perhaps they had gotten on the wrong road, and

were obliged to run like this to make up for lost time, fearing that the

two gentlemen might scold them if they arrived late. But he soon saw

that this could not be the reason, for Mr. Rawlison was more likely to

be angry with him for tiring out Nell. So what could this mean? And why

did they not obey his orders? In his heart the boy began to be very

angry and also very much worried over Nell.

“Stop!” he cried with all his might, turning to Gebhr.

“Onskout! (be quiet),” roared the Sudanese in answer. And they raced on.

In Egypt night comes on toward six o’clock. The sunset soon died away

and a full, round moon, colored red from the reflection of the sunset,

arose and flooded the desert with its mild light. In the silence nothing

was to be heard save the camels gasping for breath, the quick, hollow

clatter of their hoofs on the sand, and now and then the cracking of the

Bedouins’ whips. Nell was so tired that Stasch was obliged to hold her

in the saddle. Every minute she asked if they would not soon arrive at

their destination, and only the hope of seeing her father soon again

buoyed her up. But they both looked around in vain. An hour passed—then

another. There was neither tent nor campfire to be seen.

Then Stasch’s hair stood on end with terror—he realized that they had

been kidnapped.

CHAPTER VI

Mr. Rawlison and Mr. Tarkowski were really waiting for the children, but

not in the midst of the sandy heights of Wadi Rayan, for they had no

reason or wish to go there, but in a quite different place, in

El-Fasher, a town on the canal of that name, where they were inspecting

work done during the preceding year. The distance between El-Fasher and

Medinet is about forty-five kilometers in a straight line, but as there

is no direct communication, one is obliged to travel by El-Wasta, which

almost doubles the distance. Mr. Rawlison consulted the time-table and

calculated as follows:

“Chamis went away the day before yesterday,” he said to Mr. Tarkowski,

“and in El-Wasta he took the train coming from Cairo, so he must have

been in Medinet this morning. The children only need an hour to pack

their things. But supposing they left at noon, they would have had to

wait for the night train, which runs along the banks of the Nile, and,

as I have forbidden Nell to travel by night, they probably started early

this morning, and they will reach here a little after sunset.”

“Yes,” said Mr. Tarkowski. “Chamis must rest a little; it is true,

Stasch is hot headed, but in anything that concerns Nell he can be

relied on. Besides, I sent him a card telling him that they were not to

leave at night.”

“He is a capable boy and I have full confidence in him,” replied Mr.

Rawlison.

“Yes, indeed, so have I. In spite of his many faults, Stasch is a boy of

good character and never lies, for he is brave, and only a coward lies.

He does not lack energy, and later, when his judgment develops, I think

he will be able to fight his way through the world.”

“Certainly; but just think if you ever acted with deliberation at his

age?”

“I must confess that I did not!” replied Mr. Tarkowski, laughing; “but

perhaps I was not so self-conscious as he is.”

“He will get over that. Meanwhile, be glad that you have such a boy.”

“And you that you have such a sweet, dear little soul as Nell.”

“God bless her,” answered Mr. Rawlison, much affected.

The two friends clasped hands, and then began to examine the plans and

cost of the water-works, and so the time passed quickly until evening.

At six o’clock, at night-fall, they went to the station, walked up and

down the platform, and continued talking about the children.

“Lovely weather, but cool,” Mr. Rawlison said. “I wonder if Nell has

taken warm enough clothing with her?”

“Stasch doubtless thought of it, and Dinah, too.”

“I am sorry we did not go to Medinet ourselves, instead of having them

brought to us.”

“Remember that I suggested this.”

“I know, and if it were not that we have to continue farther south I

would have agreed to it, but I calculated that the journey would take a

considerable time, and so we should not have had as long a time with the

children. Besides, I will confess that it was Chamis who gave me the

idea of having them brought here. He told me that he wanted to see them

so much, and that he would be greatly pleased if he were sent after

them. I am not surprised that he has taken a fancy to them.”

Further conversation was cut short by the signals announcing the

approaching train. Soon afterward the fiery eye of the locomotive

appeared in the darkness, and at the same time its panting breath and

whistling could be heard.

A string of lighted cars passed along the platform, then the train shook

and stopped.

“I did not see them at any of the windows,” said Mr. Rawlison.

“Perhaps they are sitting farther back in the car and will soon get

out.”

The travelers began to leave the train, but they were chiefly Arabs, for

with the exception of beautiful palms and acacia groves El-Fasher has

nothing worth seeing. The children had not come.

“Either Chamis did not catch the train at El-Wasta,” said Mr. Tarkowski,

slightly annoyed, “or he may have overslept and so took the night train,

and they may arrive to-morrow.”

“That may be,” answered Mr. Rawlison, much worried, “but perhaps one of

them is ill.”

“If this were so Stasch would have wired.”

“Who knows, perhaps we may find a telegram awaiting us at the hotel.”

“Let us go and see.”

But in the hotel there was no news for them. Mr. Rawlison became even

more uneasy.

“Do you know what also might have happened?” said Mr. Tarkowski. “If,

for instance, Chamis overslept, he would not have told the children; he

would merely go to them to-day and tell them that they are to travel

to-morrow. He will excuse himself to us by saying that he did not

understand our orders. Anyway, I will wire to Stasch.”

“And I to the moodir of Fayoum.”

Soon afterward two telegrams were sent off. As yet there was no occasion

to be alarmed, but while awaiting a reply the engineers passed a bad

night. They were up again early in the morning.

Toward ten o’clock a telegram arrived from the moodir that read as

follows:

“It has been ascertained at the station that the children left the day

before for Gharak el-Sultani.”

It is easy to imagine that the fathers were greatly surprised and very

angry at this unexpected news. For a while they gazed at each other, as

if they had not understood the words of the telegram; then Mr.

Tarkowski, who was a very excitable man, struck the table with his fist

and said:

“This is Stasch’s work, but I will soon cure him of such ideas.”

“I should never have thought that of him,” answered Nell’s father. But

after a while he asked:

“Well, and Chamis?”

“Either he has not met them and does not know what to do, or he has gone

in search of them.”

“That is what I think.”

An hour later they left for Medinet. In the tents they learned that the

camel-drivers had also departed, and at the station it was stated on

good authority that Chamis had left for El-Gharak with the children.

Things looked darker and darker, and they could only be explained at

El-Gharak.

It was at this station that the terrible truth began to unveil itself.

The station-master, the same sleepy man with the colored spectacles and

the red fez, told them that he had seen a boy about fourteen years old

and a little girl eight years old with an elderly negress, and that they

had ridden toward the desert. He was not quite sure whether they had

eight or nine camels with them, but he had noticed that one of them was

laden, as if going on a long journey, and that the two Bedouins also

carried a great deal of baggage on their saddles, and he remembered that

when he had looked at the caravan one of the camel-drivers, a Sudanese,

told him that they were the children of Englishmen who had ridden to

Wadi Rayan.

“Have these Englishmen returned?” asked Mr. Tarkowski.

“Yes. They returned yesterday with two wolves they had shot,” answered

the station-master, “and I was very much surprised that they did not

bring the children back with them. But I did not ask them the reason,

for it was none of my business.”

With these words he returned to his work.

During this explanation Mr. Rawlison’s face turned as white as paper.

Looking at his friend with a wild stare, he raised his hat, lifted his

hand to his perspiring forehead, and staggered as if he were about to

fall.

“Rawlison, be a man!” cried Mr. Tarkowski. “Our children have been

kidnapped. They must be saved!”

“Nell! Nell!” repeated the unhappy Englishman. “Nell and Stasch! It is

not Stasch’s fault! They have both been brought here by treachery and

then carried off. Who knows why? Perhaps in hopes of a ransom. Chamis is

certainly in the plot, and so are Idris and Gebhr.”

Now he remembered what Fatima had said, that both these Sudanese were of

the Dangali tribe, to which the Mahdi belonged, and that Chadigi, the

father of Chamis, was also of the same tribe. As he thought of this his

heart nearly stopped beating, for now he knew that the children had not

been carried off in the hopes of a ransom, but to be exchanged for Smain

and his family.

“But what would the tribe of the evil-minded prophet do with them? It

would be impossible for them to hide themselves in the desert or

anywhere along the banks of the Nile, for in the desert they would all

die of hunger and thirst, and on the bank of the Nile they would be sure

to be discovered. So there was only one course for them to pursue, and

that was to flee with the children to the Mahdi!”

This thought filled Mr. Tarkowski with terror, but this energetic man,

who had formerly been a soldier, soon composed himself, recalled vividly

to his memory all that had happened, and tried to think of some means of

rescuing the children.

“Fatima,” he reasoned, “had no cause to revenge herself on our children;

so if they were carried off it was only to give them into Smain’s hands.

There is no possibility of their being threatened with death, and in

misfortune that is something; but, on the other hand, the road that lies

before them may lead to their destruction.”

He told Mr. Rawlison what he thought, then he continued:

“Idris and Gebhr, savage and ignorant men, think that the hosts of the

Mahdi are not far off, but the Mahdi has advanced as far as Khartum,

which is about two thousand kilometers from here. This distance they

would have to travel along the banks of the Nile; they can not leave

this route, for if they do the camels and the people would die of

thirst. Go immediately to Cairo and ask the Khedive to send telegrams to

every military station and make a raid on both banks of the river. The

sheiks on the banks must be offered a large reward for the capture of

the kidnappers. Every one coming to the villages to get water must be

held up. In this way Idris and Gebhr will surely fall into the hands of

the law, and we will have our children once more.”

Mr. Rawlison had regained his composure.

“I will go,” he said. “These villains have forgotten that England’s army

under Wolseley is now hastening to the aid of Gordon and will separate

them from the Mahdi. They shall not escape. They can not escape! I will

send a telegram to our minister at once and then I shall go. What do you

intend to do?”

“I shall telegraph for leave of absence, and without waiting for a reply

I shall follow in their footsteps along the Nile to Nubia, to direct the

search.”

“Then we shall meet, for I also intend doing likewise from Cairo on.”

“All right! And now to work!”

“With God’s help!” answered Mr. Rawlison.

CHAPTER VII

Meanwhile the camels stormed like a hurricane over the sand glistening

in the moonlight. It was night. The moon, at first red and large as a

wheel, paled and rose higher. The distant heights of the desert were

covered with a muslin-like, silvery mist, which instead of hiding them

from view clothed them with a mysterious light. Ever and anon the

plaintive whining of jackals rang out from among the scattered rocks.

Still another hour passed. Stasch put his arm around Nell to support her

and to lessen the springing swing of this wild ride, which was most

fatiguing to the girl. The girl asked herself over and over again why

they were racing so and why they did not see their fathers’ tents. At

last Stasch decided to tell her the truth, which sooner or later must

come to light.

“Nell,” he said, “take off one glove and let it drop without attracting

attention.”

“Why, Stasch?”

He pressed her to him and answered with an unusual apprehensiveness in

his voice:

“Do as I tell you.”

Nell held on to Stasch with one hand, and as she was afraid to let go,

she began to draw off the glove with her little teeth, each finger

separately, and when she had pulled it entirely off, she let it drop to

the ground.

“After a little while throw the other down also,” said Stasch a few

minutes later. “I have thrown mine away, but yours can be seen better

because they are light.”

He noticed that the girl looked questioningly at him, and continued:

“Nell! Do not be frightened! But, you see—it is possible that we may

not meet your father or mine, and that these horrid people have carried

us off. But don’t be frightened, for if that is the case, an expedition

will be sent after us and we shall be overtaken and brought back. That

is why I told you to drop your glove, so that the searchers can trace

us. Meanwhile we can do nothing more, but later I will think of

something. I am sure I can think of something, but don’t be afraid, just

have faith in me.”

After having learned that she would not see her father, and that they

were fleeing far into the desert, Nell began to tremble from fright and

to cry; at the same time she nestled closer to Stasch, and sobbingly

asked him why they had been carried off and where they were being taken

to. He consoled her as best he could, using almost the same words with

which his father had consoled Mr. Rawlison. He said that their fathers

would follow them and communicate the news to all the garrisons along

the Nile. He assured her that whatever happened he would never leave her

and that he would always protect her.

But her longing for her father and her desire to see him overcame her

fear, and she continued to weep for a long while. Thus they raced

through the bright night, over the desert sand, both feeling very sad.

But Stasch was not only completely discouraged and frightened, but

thoroughly ashamed. It is true he was not to blame for what had

happened, but, on the other hand, he remembered how he used to brag and

how his father had often corrected him for it. Before this he had been

thoroughly convinced that there could be no situation too great for him

to meet; he had considered himself an invincible bully, and felt ready

to challenge the whole world. But now he realized that he was a small

boy with whom any one could do as he liked, and that he was galloping

along on a camel against his will, because a half-savage Sudanese drove

it from behind. This was a great mortification to him, but he saw it was

impossible to make any resistance. He was obliged to acknowledge to

himself that he was really afraid of these people and the desert, and

that he dreaded what might still be in store for him and Nell. But he

faithfully promised not only her, but himself also, that he would look

after her and protect her, if need be at the cost of his own life.

Nell, tired out from crying and the wild ride, which had now lasted six

hours, began to doze, and from time to time went fast asleep. Stasch,

who knew that to fall off a galloping camel means instant death, tied

her fast to him with a rope which he found on the saddle. But after a

while it seemed to him that the camels were not galloping so fast,

although they were now running over flat, soft sand. In the distance

glowing heights appeared to loom, and on the plains imaginary objects,

apt to be seen at night in the desert, came and went in fantastic

fashion. The moon shone paler and paler from the heavens. Before them

peculiar, pinkish, transparent clouds massed themselves at random and

glided away as if blown along by gentle zephyrs. Stasch noticed that the

camels and the burnooses of the Bedouins in coming into illuminated

places suddenly assumed a pinkish hue, and that a delicate pink

enveloped the whole caravan. Sometimes the clouds changed to a bluish

hue. This phenomenon continued until they reached the heights.

On arriving at this chain of hills the camels slowed down still more. On

every side were rocks, which either protruded from the sandy hillocks or

were strewn about in the wildest confusion. The ground had become stony.

They passed several depressions strewn with stones and resembling

dried-up beds of rivers. Sometimes they came upon narrow passes, which

they were obliged to ride around. The animals began to step more

carefully, lifting up their feet as if dancing, when picking their way

through the hard shrubs of Jericho roses, with which the sand-dunes and

rocks were plentifully covered. The camels stumbled frequently, and it

was evident they needed a rest.

The Bedouins then halted in a narrow, abandoned pass, slid out of their

saddles, and commenced to unload the baggage. Idris and Gebhr followed

their example. They began to look after the camels, to loosen their

saddles, to take down the provisions, and to look for flat stones on

which to build a fire. They could find neither wood nor manure, which

the Arabs burn, but Chamis, Chadigi’s son, picked Jericho roses, heaping

them up in a large pile, and lighted them. Whilst the Sudanese were busy

with the camels, Stasch, Nell, and old Dinah, the nurse, found

themselves together a little apart from the others. But Dinah was more

overcome than the children and was unable to say a word. After wrapping

Nell up in a warm rug, she sat down on the ground beside her and began

to kiss her hands and to sigh. Stasch immediately asked Chamis what was

the meaning of all that had taken place, but the latter showed his white

teeth as he laughed and went off to collect more Jericho roses. Then

Stasch asked Idris, who answered curtly: “You will see,” and threatened

him with his finger. When at last the fire from the rose branches, which

at first only flickered, burst into flame, every one sat around it in a

circle—except Gebhr, who remained with the camels—and they began to

eat little cakes of maize and dried lamb and goat’s meat. The children,

ravenously hungry after the long journey, ate also, although Nell’s eyes

continually closed in sleep; but meanwhile by the pale light of the fire

Gebhr’s dark face with its shining eyes appeared, as he held up two

small, light-colored gloves and asked:

“To whom do these belong?”

“To me!” answered Nell in a sleepy and tired voice.

“To you, you little viper,” hissed the Sudanese through his clenched

teeth. “Are you marking the way so that your father can trace us?”

Furiously angry, he beat her with his scourge, a terrible Arabian whip,

which will tear open even the skin of a camel. Although Nell was covered

with a thick rug, she screamed out with fright and pain, but he did not

succeed in giving her a second blow, for Stasch immediately jumped up

like a wild-cat, threw his head against Gebhr’s chest, and grasped him

by the throat. So suddenly did this happen that the Sudanese fell on his

back with Stasch on top of him, and they both rolled over and over on

the ground. The boy was very strong for his age, but Gebhr was soon able

to overcome him. At first he loosened his hands from his throat, then

threw him face downward on the ground, and pressing down his neck with

his fist, began to use the scourge on his back.

The screams and cries of Nell, who grasped the hands of the savage and

begged him to let Stasch up, would have been of no avail had not Idris

unexpectedly come to the boy’s rescue. He was older and much stronger

than Gebhr, and from the beginning of their flight from Gharak

el-Sultani every one obeyed his orders. Now he tore the scourge out of

his brother’s hand, and throwing it far away, cried:

“Begone, you fool!”

“I shall beat this scorpion to death!” answered Gebhr, grinding his

teeth.

But Idris caught hold of him by the chest, and looking him in the eyes

said in a threatening undertone:

“The noble[2] Fatima has forbidden us to hurt these children, for they

pleaded for her—”

“I shall beat him to death!” repeated Gebhr.

“And I tell you that you shall not lift the scourge against either of

them again. If you do I will repay you ten times over each lash that you

inflict.”

Then he tossed and shook him like a palm branch, and continued:

“These children are Smain’s property, and should one of them not arrive

alive, the Mahdi himself, may God increase his days even more, would

hang you. Do you understand, you fool?”

The name of the Mahdi had such an influence on all his believers that

Gebhr immediately hung his head, and with great respect and fright

continually repeated:

“Allah akbar! Allah akbar!”

Stasch arose, panting and bruised, but convinced that if his father were

to see and hear him now he would be proud of him, for not only had he

run to Nell’s assistance without hesitation, but even now, although the

blows from the scourge burned him like fire, he did not think of his own

pain, but began to console the girl and to ask her if the lashes had

hurt her.

“What I got, I got; but he will not touch you again. Oh, if I only had

some kind of a weapon!”

The little girl put both arms around his neck, and moistening his cheeks

with her tears, she began to assure him that it did not hurt, and that

she did not cry from pain, but out of sympathy for him. Thereupon Stasch

whispered close to her ear:

“Nell, I swear I will not forgive him—not because he beat me, but

because he struck you!”

With that the conversation came to an end. After a while the brothers

Idris and Gebhr, who had become reconciled, placed coats on the ground

and lay down on them, and soon Chamis followed their example. The

Bedouins strewed maize around for the camels. Then they mounted two of

the animals and rode off in the direction of the Nile.

Nell leaned her little head on Dinah’s knee and fell asleep. The fire

went out and for a while nothing was heard but the noise of the camels’

teeth crunching the maize. Small clouds appeared in the heavens, and

though they now and then obscured the moon, the night continued clear.

From among the rocks came the ceaseless, pitiful whining of jackals

throughout the deep hours of the night.

Two hours after their departure the Bedouins reappeared with the camels,

which were loaded with leather bags filled with water. Relighting the

fire, they sat down on the sand and began to eat. Their arrival awoke

Stasch, who had fallen asleep, and also the two Sudanese and Chamis.

Then began the following conversation by the group seated around the

fire, to which Stasch was an eager listener:

“Can we ride on?” asked Idris.

“No, for we must rest—we and our camels.”

“Did any one see you?”

“No one. We advanced between two hamlets toward the river. We heard

nothing but the barking of dogs in the distance.”

“We shall always have to ride off for water at midnight, and fetch it

from deserted places. When we pass the first cataract (Challal,

Schellal) the villages will be farther apart and the people more devoted

to the Prophet. We will certainly be pursued.”

Thereupon Chamis turned over, and supporting his head on his hands,

said:

“The Mehendisi will wait a whole night in El-Fasher for the children to

come on the next train, and then they will go to Fayoum, and from there

to Gharak. Not till they reach the latter place can they find out what

has happened, and then they will have to return to Medinet, to send

words along a copper wire to the towns on the banks of the Nile—and men

on camels will pursue us. All this will take three days at least. We

need not urge our camels on before then, and so we can smoke our pipes

in comfort.”

At these words he took a burning rose twig from the fire and lighted his

pipe with it. Then Idris began, after the Arabian custom, to show his

satisfaction by smacking his lips.

“Chadigi’s son, you have brought the matter off well,” he said, “but we

must make use of these three days and nights to advance as far as

possible toward the south. I shall not breathe freely until we have

passed over the desert between the Nile and Chargeh.[3] Pray God that

the camels do not give out.”

“They will stand it,” remarked one of the Bedouins.

“The people also say,” Chamis interposed, “that the Mahdi’s

soldiers—God lengthen his life—have already got as far as Assuan.”

Stasch, who had not lost a word of this conversation, and had also noted

what Idris had told Gebhr before, arose and said:

“The army of the Mahdi is near Khartum.”

“La! La! (No! No!)” said Chamis.

“Do not listen to his words,” answered Stasch, “for he not only has a

dark skin, but a dark brain. If you were to buy fresh camels every three

days and race as you have done to-day, it would take you a month to

reach Khartum. Perhaps you do not know that not only the Egyptian, but

the English army also, will hold you up.”

These words made somewhat of an impression, and Stasch, aware of it,

continued:

“Before you are between the Nile and the great oasis all the roads in

the desert will be guarded by a number of soldiers. Ha! The words on the

copper wire run quicker than the camels. How will you ever be able to

escape them?”

“The desert is large,” answered one of the Bedouins.

“But you have to keep near the Nile.”

“We can cross to the other side, and while they are looking for us on

this side we shall be on the other.”

“The words running over the copper wires will reach the towns and

villages on both banks of the river.”

“The Mahdi will send us an angel, who will place his fingers on the eyes

of the English and Turks (Egyptians), and he will cover us over with his

wings.”

“Idris,” said Stasch, “I am not speaking to Chamis, whose head is as

empty as a gourd bottle, nor to Gebhr, who is an infamous jackal, but to

you; I know that you want to bring us to the Mahdi and deliver us over

to Smain. But if you are doing it to gain money, then know that this

little girl’s father is richer than all the Sudanese together.”

“And what does that mean?” interrupted Idris.

“What does it mean? Return of your own free will and the great Mehendisi

will not be sparing of his money, neither will my father.”

“Or they will hand us over to the government, and we will be hanged.”

“No, Idris. You will certainly be hanged if you are caught in your

flight—that is sure to happen. But if you return voluntarily you will

not be punished; moreover, you will be rich men till the end of your

days. You know that the white people of Europe always keep their word.

And I give you the word of honor of both Mehendisi that it is so, and

that it will be as I say.”

Stasch was really convinced that his father and Mr. Rawlison would a

thousand times rather keep the promise he made than to let them both,

especially Nell, take such a terrible journey and lead a still more

terrible life in the midst of the savage and angry tribes of the Mahdi.

So he waited with beating heart for Idris to answer, but the latter was

wrapt in silence; and after a while he merely said:

“You say the father of the little girl and yours would give us a great

deal of money?”

“That is so.”

“And would all their money be able to unlock the gates of Paradise for

us, which the blessing of the Mahdi opens?”

“Bismillah!” hereupon cried the two Bedouins and Gebhr and Chamis.

Stasch now lost all hope, for he knew that though Orientals are very

greedy for money and are easily corrupted, when a real Mohammedan looks

at anything from a religious point of view no treasures of this world

can tempt him.

Idris, encouraged by the assenting cries of his fellows, continued to

talk, not apparently in answer to Stasch, but for the purpose of gaining

their further approval and praise.

“We are fortunate enough to belong to the same tribe as the holy

prophet, but the noble Fatima and her children are his relatives, and

the great Mahdi loves them. So when we deliver you and this little girl

into his hands he will exchange you for Fatima and her children and

bless us. Know that even the water in which he bathes in the morning

will, according to the Koran, heal the sick and wash away sins. How

powerful must his blessing then be?”

“Bismillah!” repeated the Sudanese and the Bedouins.

But Stasch, grasping the last thread of hope, said: “Then take me along,

but the Bedouins must return with the little girl. They will deliver

Fatima and her children in exchange for me alone.”

“They are more likely to give them up in exchange for you both.”

Thereupon the boy turned to Chamis:

“Your father will have to bear the brunt of your deeds.”

“My father is now in the desert on his way to the prophet,” answered

Chamis.

“Then he will be caught and hanged.”

But here Idris thought it better to encourage his comrades.

“The hawks,” he said, “who are to eat the flesh of our bones are not yet

hatched. We know what threatens, but we are no longer children, and we

have been familiar with the desert for some time. These people,”

pointing to the Bedouins, “have often been in Barbary, and they know the

roads that are traversed only by gazels. There no one will find us and

no one will follow us. We must go to Bahr-Yoosuf and then to the Nile to

draw water, but we shall do that by night. And besides, do you suppose

that there are no secret friends of the Mahdi by the river? Let me tell

you that the further south we go, the surer we are of finding whole

tribes and their sheiks only waiting for an occasion to grasp their

swords in defense of the true faith. These tribes will give the camels

food and water and set the pursuers on the wrong track. We know that the

Mahdi is far away, but we also know that every day brings us nearer to

the sheepskin on which the holy prophet kneels to pray.”

“Bismillah!” cried his comrades for the third time.

It was evident that Idris had greatly risen in their estimation. Stasch

realized that everything was lost, but thinking that at any rate he

could protect Nell from the fury of the Sudanese, he said: “After a ride

of six hours the little lady has reached here half dead. How do you

suppose that she will stand such a long journey? If she dies, I shall

die, too, and who will you then have to take to the Mahdi?”

At first Idris could not answer. Stasch, seeing this, continued:

“And how will the Mahdi and Smain receive you when they learn that

through your stupidity Fatima and her children must forfeit their

lives?”

But the Sudanese collected himself and said:

“I saw how you seized Gebhr by the throat. By Allah, you are a young

lion, and will not die, and she——”

Here he looked at Nell’s little head leaning up against old Dinah’s

knees, and in a peculiarly soft voice he concluded:

“We will make a nest, a little bird’s nest, for her on the hump of the

camel, so that she will not feel the fatigue and can sleep on the way as

peacefully as she is sleeping now.”

As he said this he went toward the camels, and with the help of the

Bedouins began to prepare a seat for the girl on the back of the best

dromedary. While doing this they talked a great deal, and argued a

little; but at last they were able to arrange, with the help of ropes,

rugs, and bamboo rods, something like a deep, immovable basket, in which

Nell could either sit or lie down, but from which she could not fall.

Over this seat, which was so spacious that Dinah also found room in it,

they stretched a canvas roof.

“Do you see,” said Idris to Stasch, “quails’ eggs would not break in

these cloth rugs. The old woman will ride with the little lady, so that

she can wait on her night and day. You will sit with me on another

camel, but you can ride alongside of her and take care of her.”

Stasch was glad that he had at last gained that much. Thinking over the

situation, he became convinced that possibly they would be found before

they reached the first cataract, and this thought gave him courage. But

he needed sleep, and he attempted to fasten himself to the saddle with

ropes, for as it was not necessary to support Nell any longer, he

thought he might get a few hours’ rest.

The night was now brighter, and the jackals stopped whining in the

narrow passes. The caravan was to start directly, but first the

Sudanese, on seeing the sunrise, went behind a rock a few steps off, and

there began their morning ablutions, following out exactly the

instructions of the Koran, but instead of water, which they wanted to

save, they used sand. Then they raised their voices, and went through

the first morning prayer. In the great stillness their words rang out

distinctly: “In the name of the merciful and pitying God. Glory and

honor be to the Lord, the ruler of the world, who shows mercy and pity

on the day of judgment. We honor Thee, we confess to Thee, we beg help

of Thee. Lead us on in the path of those for whom Thou dost not spare

Thy benefits, but not in the ways of evil-doers, who have incurred Thy

anger, and live in sin. Amen.”

When Stasch heard these words he also raised his eyes to heaven—and in

this distant country, in the midst of the yellow, silent sand of the

desert plains, he began:

“We fly to thy patronage, O holy Mother of God, despise not our

petitions in our necessities!”

-----

Footnote 2:

All the relatives of the Mahdi bore the title “Noble”.

Footnote 3:

A large oasis to the west of the Nile.

CHAPTER VIII

Night faded away. They were just about to mount the camels when they

suddenly perceived a desert wolf, which, dropping its tail between its

legs, crossed over the narrow pass that lay about a hundred feet from

the caravan, and gaining the opposite plateau, ran on, terrified, as if

fleeing before an enemy. In the Egyptian wilderness there are no wild

animals of which wolves are afraid, and therefore this sight greatly

worried the Sudanese. What could this mean? Could it be that the

pursuers were coming upon them? One of the Bedouins quickly climbed a

rock, but hardly had he taken a look than he ran down again.

“By the prophet,” he cried, distracted and frightened. “There seems to

be a lion running toward us, and he is already quite near.”

Just then from behind the rock a “Wurgh” in a deep bass voice was heard,

at which Stasch and Nell with one voice cried out with joy:

“Saba! Saba!”

As this means “lion” in Arabic, the Bedouins were still more frightened.

But Chamis laughed out loud and said:

“I know this lion.”

With these words he gave a long whistle, whereupon an enormous dog

rushed among the camels. When he saw the children he bounded upon them,

threw Nell down as she stretched out her hands toward him, climbed up on

Stasch, then ran around them, whining and barking. Again he knocked Nell

down, again climbed up on Stasch, and at last lay down at their feet and

began to pant.

His flanks were sunken in and froth dripped from his protruding tongue,

but he wagged his tail and raised his eyes, looking affectionately at

Nell, as if to say to her: “Your father told me to protect you, and here

I am!”

The children sat down on either side of him and began to caress him. The

two Bedouins, who had never seen a similar creature before, looked at

him with surprise, and repeatedly cried out: “Ouallach! O kelb kebir!”

(Great heavens! What a large dog!). The latter remained quiet for a

while, then raised his head in the air and drew in his breath through

his black nose, which resembled an enormous truffle, sniffed, and sprang

to the dying fire, near which lay remains of food.

At the same moment the goat and sheep bones began to crack and break

like straws between his enormous teeth. The remains of a meal for eight

people, including Dinah and Nell, were enough for even such a “kelb

kebir.”

But the Sudanese were worried at the dog’s arrival; the two

camel-drivers drew Chamis to one side and began to talk to him in a

worried and excited manner:

“Idris brought this dog here,” cried Gebhr; “but how was he able to find

his way to the children, for they came to Gharak by train?”

“Probably he followed the tracks of the camels,” answered Chamis.

“That is bad. Any one seeing him with us will mark our caravan, and will

be able to show which road we have taken. By all hazards we must get rid

of him!”

“But how?” asked Chamis.

“Here’s a gun—take it and put a bullet in his head.”

“It is true we have a gun; but I don’t know how to fire it. Perhaps you

do.”

Chamis might have been able to fire it off in case of necessity, for

Stasch had often opened and shut the lock of the gun in his presence;

but his sympathy was aroused by the dog, which he had grown to like,

even before the arrival of the children in Medinet. Besides, he knew

very well that the two Sudanese had no idea how to use a gun of the

newest pattern, and that they would not take the trouble to find out.

“If you are unable to do it,” he said with a cunning smile, “then no one

but this little Christian will be able to kill the dog; but this gun

might go off several times in succession, and so I do not advise you to

give it into his hands.”

“Heaven forbid!” answered Idris. “He would shoot us down like quail.”

“We have knives,” remarked Gebhr.

“Try them, but remember that you also have a throat, which the dog may

tear open before you have time to stab him.”

“Then what are we to do?”

Chamis raised his eyebrows.

“Why do you want to kill the dog? Even if you bury him in the sand the

hyenas will dig him out, and the pursuers will find his bones and know

that we have not gone along the Nile, but have crossed over to this

side. So let him follow us. Whenever the Bedouins go for water, and we

are hidden in a ravine, you may be sure that the dog will stay with the

children. Allah!”

“It is well he caught up to us here; otherwise he would have led the

pursuers on our tracks as far as Barbary. You will not need to feed him,

for if he is not satisfied with the remnants of our meals he will not go

hungry; he can always catch a hyena or a jackal. Let him alone, I tell

you, and waste no more time chattering.”

“Perhaps you are right,” said Idris.

“If I am right, I will give him water, so that he will not run to the

Nile and be seen in the villages.”

Thus was Saba’s fate decided, and after having rested a little and had a

good meal he lapped up a dish of water, and thus refreshed, followed the

caravan with renewed energy.

They now rode over a tableland, on which the wind had made furrows of

sand, and from which reached wide stretches of desert. The sky assumed

the hue of a pearl mussel-shell. Light clouds gathered in the east,

shining like opals, and then melting into golden tints.

First one, then a second ray of light shot forth, and the sun—as is

usual in southern countries, in which there is scarcely any twilight or

dawn—did not rise, but burst forth from behind the clouds like a pillar

of fire, flooding the horizon with living light. Heaven and earth were

calm, and far as human eyes could see lay the trackless sand plains, now

suddenly disclosed in the vivid glow.

“We must hurry,” said Idris, “for we can be seen here from a great

distance.”

The camels, strengthened by their rest, and having had plenty to drink,

raced along with the fleetness of gazels. Saba remained behind, but

there was no fear that he would get lost and not be forthcoming at the

next feeding-place. The dromedary on which Idris rode with Stasch ran

alongside of Nell’s camel, so that the children could easily speak to

each other. The seat which the Sudanese had padded proved to be very

comfortable, and the girl really looked like a little bird in a nest;

even if asleep she could not fall out. This ride fatigued her less than

the one during the night, and the bright daylight gave her and Stasch

courage. The lad’s heart was full of hope; as Saba had overtaken them,

might not the rescuers also be able to do so? He immediately mentioned

this to Nell, who now smiled at him for the first time since they had

been carried off.

“And when will they overtake us?” she asked in French, so that Idris

would not understand.

“I don’t know. Maybe to-day, maybe to-morrow, maybe in two or three

days.”

“But on the return journey we shall not ride on camels?”

“No. Only as far as the Nile, and then on the Nile to El-Wasta.”

“Oh, that’s good, that’s good!”

Poor Nell, who used to be so fond of riding on camels, was now evidently

sick and tired out.

“On the Nile—to El-Wasta and to papa!” she began to repeat in a sleepy

voice.

As she had not rested long at their last stopping-place, she now fell

asleep, the heavy sleep that comes in the morning after great fatigue.

Meanwhile the Bedouins drove the camels ceaselessly on without letting

them stop for an instant. Stasch noticed that they were going toward the

interior of the desert.

To make Idris less confident that the party would be able to elude the

pursuers, and also to show him that he felt certain of their being

found, Stasch said:

“You are leaving the Nile and the Bahr Yoosuf, but that will be useless,

for they will not search for you on the banks, where there is one string

of villages, but in the interior.”

And Idris said:

“How do you know we are leaving the Nile? The banks can not possibly be

seen from here.”

“Because the sun, which is now in the east, warms our backs; that means

that we have turned off toward the west.”

“You are a clever boy,” said Idris approvingly.

And after a while he added:

“But the pursuers will not overtake us—neither will you escape from

us.”

“No,” he answered. “I shall not run away, unless it is with her.” And he

pointed to the sleeping Nell.

They raced along until noon, scarcely making a halt. When the sun stood

high in the heavens and it began to be very warm, the camels, although

it is not their nature to perspire profusely, were dripping with

perspiration, and went along much more slowly. Once more the caravan was

surrounded by rocks and sand heaps. Ravines, which served as beds of

rivers called “Khori” during the rainy season, were seen oftener than

before. At last the Bedouins made a halt in one quite hidden between the

rocks. But scarcely had they alighted from the camels than they began to

yell and run forward, bending down and throwing stones. Stasch, who had

not yet dismounted, saw a strange sight. From between the dried shrubs

that grow plentifully at the bottom of the “Khors” appeared a large

snake, which wound its way through the clefts of the rocks as quick as

lightning and glided off to a hiding-place of its own. The angry

Bedouins followed it, and Gebhr hurried to their assistance with a

knife. But the unevenness of the ground made it as difficult to strike

the snake with a stone as to stab it with the knife, and in a little

while all three returned with terror on their faces, and the usual cries

of the Arabs were heard.

“Allah!”

“Bismillah!”

“Maschallah!”

Then the two Sudanese looked at Stasch with a penetrating and

questioning glance. But he had not the least idea why they did so.

Meanwhile Nell had dismounted, and though she was not so tired as the

night before, Stasch spread a cloth rug over a shady, level spot and

told her to lie down, so that, as he said, she could stretch out her

feet. The Arabs walked about eating their mid-day meal, which consisted

only of zwiebach, dates, and a drop of water. The camels were not given

a drink, as they had been watered during the night. The faces of Idris,

Gebhr, and the Bedouins bore an anxious look, and the time of rest

passed in silence. At last Idris took Stasch to one side and began to

question him in a mysterious and troubled manner:

“Did you see that snake?”

“Yes.”

“Was it you who bid it appear before us?”

“No.”

“Some misfortune will surely come upon us, for these clumsy fellows were

not able to kill the snake.”

“The gallows await you.”

“Silence! Perhaps your father is a sorcerer?”

“Yes,” answered Stasch without hesitation, immediately realizing that

these savage and superstitious beings regard the appearance of a snake

as a bad omen—an augury that the flight would not be successful.

“So your father sent it to us,” continued Idris. “He ought to realize

that we might take revenge on you for his witchcraft.”

“You will do nothing to me, for Fatima’s sons would pay you back for

every wrong done to us.”

“Did you understand? Remember that if it had not been for me, not only

you, but the little girl, too, would have bled to death under Gebhr’s

scourge.”

“I shall intercede only for you. Gebhr will be hanged.”

Thereupon Idris looked at him for a while in surprise and said:

“Our lives are not in your hands yet; you talk to us as if you were our

master.”

After a pause he added:

“You are a peculiar boy; I have never seen any one like you before. I

have always thought well of you until now—but take care, do not make

any threats.”

“God punishes traitors!” answered Stasch.

It was quite evident that the tone of authority with which the boy

spoke, together with the bad omen in the form of the serpent which had

escaped, made Idris feel exceedingly uneasy. Even later, when mounting

his camel, he frequently repeated: “Yes, I have more than once been kind

to you!” as if he wished at all events to impress this on Stasch’s mind;

then he began to finger the nut-shell beads of his rosary and to pray.

Toward two o’clock in the afternoon the heat—although it was

winter—became unbearable. Not a cloud could be seen in the sky, but the

edges of the horizon had become gray. Over the caravan soared several

hawks, which from their great height cast black shadows on the yellow

sand. In the heated air there was a smell as of something burning.

Although the camels did not change their pace, they began to sniff. One

of the Bedouins now approached Idris.

“There is something bad coming,” he said.

“What do you think it can be?” asked the Sudanese.

“Evil spirits have awakened the wind, which sleeps in the western part

of the desert, and it has risen out of the sand, and is now rushing

toward us.”

Idris rose in his saddle, looked out into the distance, and replied:

“That’s right. It is coming from the west and south, but it does not

seem to be as furious as the Khamsin.”[4]

“But only three years ago it buried a whole caravan in the vicinity of

Abu Hammed, and did not uncover it until last winter. Ulla! It may blow

with such force as to stop up the camels’ nostrils, and dry up the water

in the leather bags.”

“We must hasten on, and steer our course so that we will strike only the

edge of it.”

“We are running straight into it, and can not possibly avoid it.”

“The sooner it comes, the sooner it will be over.”

At the same time Idris whipped up his camel with the scourge, and the

others followed his example. For a while nothing was heard but the cries

of “Yalla! Yalla!” and the hollow sound of the thick whips, that

resembled the loud clapping of hands. The western horizon, which had

been almost white, had now become dark. The heat continued, and the sun

blazed down on the heads of the riders. The hawks must have soared very

high, for their shadows became smaller and smaller, and at last entirely

disappeared.

It now became oppressively sultry. The Arabs cried out to the camels

until their throats were dry; then they became quiet, and a deathlike

silence ensued, broken only by the groaning of the animals and the

rustle of two small sand-foxes[5] with enormous ears, which sped past

the caravan, fleeing to the opposite side of the desert.

The same Bedouin who had previously spoken to Idris said once more in a

peculiarly strange tone of voice:

“The wind will soon break loose and bury everything.”

“All the more need of helping the little girl.”

Idris whipped up the camel, and for a while they continued in silence.

“Why don’t you speak?” asked Stasch.

“Because I am wondering whether I had better tie you to the saddle or

bind your hands behind your back.”

“Have you gone crazy?”

“No. But I can guess what you want to do.”

“The searchers will overtake us in any case, so I need not do anything.”

“The desert is in God’s hands.”

They again relapsed into silence. The coarse sand had ceased falling,

but a fine red dust, somewhat resembling mildew, remained in the air,

through which the sun shone like a sheet of copper. Distant objects

could now be plainly seen. Before the caravan extended a plain, on the

edge of which the Arab’s sharp eyes again perceived a cloud. It was

higher than the previous ones and rose in columns that formed enormous

funnels with wide-spreading tops. At this sight the hearts of the Arabs

and Bedouins quaked with fear, for they recognized the sand-spout. Idris

raised his hands, and lifting them to his ears, began to bow to the

advancing whirlwind. His belief in his own God apparently did not

prevent him fearing others, for Stasch distinctly heard him say:

“Lord! We are your children, therefore do not devour us!” And the “Lord”

rushed upon them, and hit the camels with such force that they almost

fell to the ground. The animals huddled together in a compact mass, with

their heads turned toward the center. Enormous quantities of sand began

to fly. The caravan was enveloped in darkness that momentarily grew more

intense, in which they saw black and indistinct objects—like enormous

birds or camels—sweep rapidly past them, as if frightened by the

hurricane. The Arabs were greatly alarmed, for they thought they saw the

souls of the men and animals that had perished in the sand. In the midst

of the tumult and howling of the hurricane they heard strange voices,

sometimes weeping, sometimes laughing, sometimes cries for help. These

sounds were only delusions. Danger a hundred times more terrible

threatened the caravan. The Sudanese well knew that if one of the great

sand-spouts, which continually form in the center of the hurricane,

should drag them into its vortex, it would knock down the riders and

disperse the camels, and, bursting upon them, would in the twinkling of

an eyelash bury them under mountains of sand, there to remain until some

similar storm should uncover their bones and scatter them over the

desert.

Stasch nearly lost his breath; the sand blinded him, and he became dazed

and dizzy. Sometimes it seemed as though he heard Nell crying and

calling, and so he thought of her alone. Knowing that the camels were

standing closely together, and that Idris could not be paying any

attention to him, he determined to steal over to the girl’s camel, not

that he wished to escape, but only to help and encourage her. He had

scarcely put out his hands to catch Nell’s saddle than Idris’ large arm

held him back. The Sudanese picked him up like a feather, laid him down,

and tried to bind him with a palm rope, and after he had tied his hands,

placed him across the saddle. Stasch clenched his teeth and resisted as

much as possible, but all in vain. As his throat was parched and his

mouth full of sand, he could not convince Idris that he only wanted to

assist the girl, and had no intention of trying to escape. But a little

later, feeling that he was all but suffocated, he cried out in a

strained voice:

“Save the little Biut! Save the little Biut!”[6]

The Arabs preferred to think of saving their own lives. So terrible was

the sand-storm that the Bedouins could neither sit on the camels, nor

could the camels remain standing. Chamis and Gebhr sprang to earth to

hold the curb-bits, which were fastened under the lower jaws of the

animals. Idris pushed Stasch off the back of the saddle and endeavored

to control his camel. The animals stood with their legs far apart so as

to resist the raging storm, but strength failed them, and the caravan

was blown about in the sand, which pricked like pins, and torn to pieces

as though with lashes from sand-thongs. Slowly at first, then faster,

they began to twist and stagger as the hurricane advanced. From time to

time the sand whirls dug grave-like hollows beneath their feet, or the

sand and gravel, rebounding from the flanks of the animals, instantly

formed hillocks, which reached up higher than their knees. In this

manner hour after hour passed, the situation becoming more and more

alarming. Idris at last realized that the only means of deliverance lay

in remounting the camels and racing with the storm. But that meant

returning in the direction of Fayoum, where Egyptian courts and the

gallows awaited them.

“Ha! There is nothing else to be done,” thought Idris. “The hurricane

has delayed our pursuers also, and as soon as it ceases we will gallop

once more toward the south.”

So he cried out for them to remount. But just then something happened

that completely changed the situation. The dark sand-clouds, now almost

jet black, were suddenly permeated with bluish light. Then the darkness

grew still more intense, and now arose in the higher regions of the air

the slumbering thunder. Awakened by the whirlwind, it began to roll

loudly, threateningly, and angrily between the Arabian and Libyan

deserts. It seemed as if mountains were falling from the sky. The

deafening noise increased; it made the earth tremble, and began to

encircle the entire horizon.[7] From time to time the sound crashed with

such terrible force that it seemed as though the firmament was broken

and falling to earth. Sometimes it was like a hollow, distant rumbling;

then again it broke forth still louder, flashed its blinding lightning,

threw thunderbolts, rose and fell and crashed again. This continued a

long while.

At last the wind ceased, as if terrified, and after a long, momentous

pause the doors of heaven closed and a stillness as of death ensued.

A little later the voice of the leader rang through the silence:

“God is over the storm and hurricane! We are saved!”

They started off again; but the darkness was so impenetrable that

although the camels ran side by side, their riders could not see each

other, being obliged to call out every minute so as not to become

separated. From time to time the lightning pierced the sand-filled air

with vivid blue and red flashes, and then the darkness became so intense

that it might almost be felt. Despite the confidence that the leader

inspired in the Sudanese, they still felt uneasy, for they ran on

blindly, not knowing where they were going, whether turning round in a

circle or going toward the north or south. The animals stumbled every

minute and made but little speed, panting so peculiarly and breathing so

hard that it seemed to their riders as if the whole desert was gasping

from fright. At last came the first large raindrops that generally

follow a hurricane, and the leader shouted through the darkness:

“Khor!”

They had reached a ravine. At first the camels stood motionless at the

edge, then began to descend very carefully.

-----

Footnote 4:

This is a southwest wind that blows only in the spring-time.

Footnote 5:

An animal called “feuschak,” smaller than a fox.

Footnote 6:

The Little Girl.

Footnote 7:

The author heard a peal of thunder near Aden, which continued

incessantly for nearly half an hour.

CHAPTER IX

The ravine was broad and covered with stones, between which grew stunted

thornbushes. Broken rocks formed its southern side. The Arabs observed

these details in the lightning flashes, which were now less vivid but

more frequent. They soon discovered a flat cave, or, speaking more

exactly, a spacious niche, in the side of the rock, in which they could

easily take refuge. The camels could also find a sheltered place on a

slight elevation near by. The Bedouins and the Sudanese relieved the

animals of their burdens and saddles, and Chamis, the son of Chadigi,

went about collecting thorn branches for the fire. Large raindrops fell

intermittently, but the shower did not really begin until every one had

lain down to sleep. At first the rain resembled threads, then ropes, and

at last it seemed as if overflowing streams from invisible clouds were

deluging the earth. But such showers, which occur only once in many

years, even in winter cause the canals and the Nile to overflow, and in

Aden they fill the enormous cisterns which are the mainstay of the town.

Stasch had never seen anything like this before. A rushing stream filled

the bed of the “Khors” and curtains of water covered the entrance of the

cave. Nothing could be heard except the rushing of the water and the

pattering of the rain. The camels stood on the height, and so the storm

at the most could but give them a bath; but the Arabs looked out every

minute to see that the animals were not in any danger. On the other

hand, the party found it very pleasant in the protecting niche to sit

around the bright fire of brushwood, which was not wet by the rain. Joy

was written on all their faces. Idris, who had unbound Stasch’s hands on

their arrival, so that he could eat, now turned to him and said with a

scornful smile:

“The Mahdi is greater than all the white sorcerers. He stopped the

sand-storm and sent the rain.”

Stasch did not answer, for he was busy looking after Nell, who scarcely

seemed to breathe. At first he took the sand out of her hair, and

ordered old Dinah to unpack the things they had taken with them to go to

their fathers; then he took a towel, moistened it with water, and

carefully washed the child’s face. Dinah could not do this, for she had

gone nearly stone blind during the hurricane, and the washing of her

heated eyelids at first brought no relief. Nell seemed indifferent to

all Stasch’s efforts, and only looked at him like a tired little bird,

but when he drew off her shoes to shake out the sand, and then spread

out the cloth rug for her to lie upon, she put her little arms around

his neck.

In his heart he felt more and more sympathy for her; he now felt that he

was her guardian, elder brother, and sole protector. He was also aware

that he was very fond of this little sister, a great deal more fond of

her than he ever had been. He had liked her when at Port Said, but he

looked upon her as a “little baby,” and so, for instance, it never

occurred to him then to kiss her hand when saying good-night. If any one

had ever mentioned such a thing to him he would have thought that a

thirteen-year-old gentleman could not do such a thing without affecting

his dignity and his years. But now the general misfortune had awakened

his slumbering affection for her, and he not only kissed one, but both

of the girl’s hands.

He lay down, still thinking of her. He decided to do something

extraordinary to deliver her from captivity. He was prepared for

everything—for wounds or for death—but with a slight reservation in

his heart that the wounds would not hurt too much and that the death

might not be a real one; for in the latter case he would not be able to

see Nell’s joy over her freedom. Then he began to think over the most

heroic means of delivering her, but his thoughts became confused. For a

while it seemed to him as if whole sand-clouds were burying them and

then as if all the camels were trying to creep into his head—and then

he fell fast asleep.

After the Arabs had attended to the camels, they sank down, dead tired

from the fight with the whirlwind, and slept like logs. The fires went

out, and it was pitch dark in the cave. Soon the sleepers began to

snore, and outside was heard the pattering of the rain and the rushing

of the water as it broke against the stones on the bed of the ravine.

And so the night passed.

Before morning Stasch was so cold that he awakened from his sound sleep.

It seems that the water, which had collected above them in the crevices

of the rock, began to trickle drop by drop through a crack in the hollow

of the cave. The boy sat up on the cloth rug, so sleepy at first that he

could not tell where he was and what was happening to him. But he was

soon wide awake.

“Ah!” he thought. “Yesterday there was a hurricane and we were carried

off by it, and this is the cave where we took refuge from the rain.”

He began to look around. At first he was surprised to see that the rain

had ceased, and that it was no longer dark in the cave, for the moon,

which was now low down near the horizon, about to set, illumined it. The

entire interior of the broad but shallow niche could be plainly seen.

Stasch distinctly noted the Arabs lying together, and close to the

largest wall of the cave he saw the white dress of Nell, who was

sleeping next to Dinah.

He felt exceedingly anxious about her.

“Sleep, Nell, sleep!” he said to himself. “But I can not sleep—I must,

I must save her!”

Then, looking at the Arabs, he added: “Ah, I would like to——”

Suddenly he trembled, for his eye lighted upon the leather case

containing the gun he had received at Christmas, and alongside of it the

cartridges lay, so near—between him and Chamis—that he had but to

stretch forth his hand to reach them.

His heart began to beat and to thump like a hammer. If he could but

catch hold of the gun and the cartridges he would doubtless have command

of the situation. In this case he would only have to creep quietly out

of the niche, secrete himself a short distance away, between the rocks,

and guard the entrance from that position. “When the Sudanese and the

Bedouins awake,” thought he, “they will notice that I have escaped, and

all will rush out of the cave at once; then with two bullets I can shoot

down the first two, and before the others reach me the gun will be

reloaded. Chamis will be the only one left, but I will make short work

of him.”

Then he imagined the four dead bodies bathed in blood, and his heart was

filled with horror and fright. To murder four people! It is true they

are villains, but just the same, it is terrible! He remembered that in

Port Said he had seen a fellah, a workman, who had been killed by the

handle of a shaft-sinking machine, and what a terrible impression the

quivering remains amid a pool of blood had made upon him. The very

thought of it caused him to shudder. And now he was about to kill four!

Sin, horror! No! no! He could not do it!

He began to struggle with his thoughts. For himself he would not think

of doing it—certainly not! But now it was a case of Nell, of her

defense, her safety, and her life, for she certainly could not stand all

these hardships and would surely die, either during the journey or in

the midst of the wild, beastly tribes of Dervishes. What was the blood

of such wretches in comparison with Nell’s life, and was it right to

hesitate in such a case? For Nell! For Nell!

Then a thought flew like a flash of lightning through his head and made

his hair stand on end. What would happen if one of these villains should

point a knife at Nell’s breast and threaten to kill her if he, Stasch,

would not surrender and give up the gun? What would happen then?

“In that case,” said the boy to himself, “I should give myself up at

once.”

And at the thought of his helplessness he again threw himself down

despairingly on the cloth rug.

The rays of moonlight now entered the opening of the cave at such an

angle that it became dark inside. The Arabs still snored. Stasch lay

quiet for a while, then a new thought dawned upon him.

Suppose he should creep out of the cave with the gun, hide himself

between the rocks, and not kill the men, but only shoot down the camels?

It is true it would be a shame to sacrifice the innocent animals, but

what was to be done? People kill animals not only to save lives, but

also for their meat. Now one thing was certain, that if he were to

succeed in shooting down four or five camels, it would be impossible to

continue the journey. Not one of the caravan would dare visit the

villages on the river-banks to buy new camels. So Stasch would promise,

in the names of their fathers, that the men should not be punished, but

be rewarded, and the only thing left for them to do would be to return.

That was all very well, but supposing they did not give him time to make

these promises, but murdered him in the first onset of their wrath?

However, they would have to give him time and listen to him, for with a

gun in his hand he would be able to keep them at a safe distance until

he had said all he wanted to. They would realize that the only way to

save themselves would be to surrender. Then he would put himself at the

head of the caravan and lead it straight to the Bahr Yoosuf and to the

Nile. They were still quite a distance from there—some one or two days’

journey—for the Arabs had taken the precaution to travel quite far into

the interior. But that was no matter; there would be several camels

left, and on one of these Nell could ride. Stasch began to examine the

Arabs carefully. They were all sleeping the sound sleep of utter

exhaustion; but as the night would soon be over, they might awaken at

any moment. Immediate action was necessary. It would not be difficult to

take the cartridge case, for it lay by his side; but it would not be so

easy to get the gun, which Chamis had placed farther away, on the other

side. Stasch hoped that he would be able to take it away, but he decided

not to remove it from its case or adjust the gun barrel until he should

get some distance from the cave, for he feared the click of the steel

might awaken the sleepers.

The moment had come. The boy crept over Chamis like a worm, and grasping

the box by the handle, picked it up and slowly drew it over to his side.

Though he clenched his teeth and tried to overcome his emotions, his

heart and pulse beat quickly, everything grew dark before his eyes, and

his breath came and went in rapid gasps, and when the straps which

closed the box creaked a little, cold drops of sweat stood in beads on

his forehead. This single second seemed to him as long as a century. But

Chamis never moved. The box was lifted over him and placed beside the

cartridge case.

Stasch breathed again. Half the work was done. Now it was necessary to

creep quietly out of the cave, run a short distance, hide himself in the

rocks, open the case, adjust the gun, load it, and put a number of

cartridges in his pocket. Then the caravan would be at his mercy.

Stasch’s black silhouette stood out against the light background of the

entrance to the cave. Another second and he would be outside. Another

minute and he would hide himself in the rocks. And then, even if one of

the robbers should awaken, before he realized what had happened, and

before he could awaken the others, it would be too late. Fearing that he

might knock down one of the many stones which lay at the entrance of the

niche, the boy took one step forward and groped with the sole of his

foot for firm ground.

He thrust his head out of the opening, and was just about to step out,

when something unexpectedly happened which made the blood freeze in his

veins. For through the dead silence Saba’s joyful bark rang forth like

thunder, filled the whole ravine, and awakened its sleeping echoes. The

Arabs sprang up as one man out of their sleep, and the first thing that

met their eyes was Stasch with the case in one hand and the cartridges

in the other.

Ah, Saba, what have you done!

CHAPTER X

They at once set up a howl and fell on Stasch, tearing the gun and

cartridges from his grasp; they threw him on the ground, bound his hands

and feet with ropes, beat him, and stamped on him with their feet until

Idris, fearing the boy would be killed, drove them away. Then they began

to speak in broken sentences, as people do who have had some great

danger hovering over them, from which they have only escaped by chance.

“That boy is Satan personified!” cried Idris, his face pale with fright

and excitement.

“He would have shot us down as he would wild geese for dinner!” added

Gebhr.

“Yes, if it hadn’t been for this dog!”

“God sent him!”

“And you wanted to kill him!” said Chamis.

“From now on no one shall touch him!”

“He shall always have bones and water!”

“Allah! Allah!” repeated Idris, without being able to calm down; “and

death hung over us! Uf!”

They looked with hatred at Stasch, who lay before them, but they were

also somewhat surprised that this small boy had so nearly caused their

defeat and destruction.

“By the prophet!” said one of the Bedouins, “but we must take care that

this son of Eblis does not break our necks. We owe the Mahdi a snake!

What do you intend to do with him?”

“His right hand must be cut off!” cried Gebhr. The Bedouins made no

reply, but Idris would not allow them to do it. It occurred to him that

if the expedition sent out in search of them should find them, they

would be punished much more severely if they maimed the boy. And after

all, who could tell whether the boy would not die as the result of the

beating he had just received? If so, only Nell would remain to be

exchanged for Fatima and her children.

When Gebhr drew a knife to execute his threat Idris grasped him by the

wrist and held him back.

“No!” he said. “It would be a disgrace if five of the Mahdi’s warriors

were to fear one beggarly son of a Christian so much that they had to

cut off his hand. Meanwhile we will bind him at night, and for what he

has just attempted he will receive ten lashes with the scourge.”

Gebhr was ready to carry out the threat at once. But Idris again pushed

him back and told one of the Bedouins to administer the blows,

whispering into his ear not to beat him too hard. As Chamis, because he

had formerly served the engineers, or perhaps for some other reason, did

not want to interfere in any way, the second Bedouin laid Stasch face

downward, and the torture was just about to begin when something

unexpected delayed it.

At the entrance of the niche Nell appeared with Saba. Although busy with

her pet, which had rushed into the cave and thrown himself at her feet,

she had heard the screams of the Arabs, but as Arabs and Bedouins in

Egypt scream on every occasion as if they were murdering one another,

she paid no attention to this. It was only after she had called Stasch

and received no answer that she went out to see if he had, perhaps,

mounted his camel, and she was terrified when by the first rays of dawn

she saw Stasch lying on the ground, and above him a Bedouin standing

with the scourge in his hand. At this sight she began to cry out with

all the power of her childish lungs and to stamp her feet; but when the

Bedouin paid no attention to her and gave Stasch the first blow, she

rushed forward and covered the boy with her small body.

The Bedouin hesitated, for he had not been told to beat the girl, and

meanwhile she cried out in tones of terror and despair:

“Saba! Saba!”

Saba understood, and with one leap he reached the entrance. The hair on

his neck and back bristled, his eyes glared with a red light, while from

his chest and his powerful throat came a thundering roar. Then his lips

slowly receded, and his teeth, as well as his inch-long white fangs,

stood out, displaying his bloody gums. The enormous dog now began to

turn his head from right to left, as if he wanted to give the Sudanese a

good view of his terrible set of teeth and say to them:

“Look! With these I shall defend the children!”

They desisted at once, because they knew that they owed their lives to

Saba and also that any one who attempted to approach Nell at that moment

would have the enraged animal’s fangs fastened in his throat.

So they stood there powerless, looking helplessly and inquiringly at one

another, as if asking what was to be done now.

They hesitated so long that Nell had time to call old Dinah and order

her to cut Stasch’s bonds. Then the boy arose, and laying his hand on

Saba’s head, turned to the assailants:

“I did not mean to kill you,” he said with clenched teeth, “but only the

camels.”

This speech, which was intended to pacify them, only terrified them the

more, and they would certainly have attacked Stasch again had not Saba’s

flaming eyes and his still bristling hair kept them back. Gebhr still

wanted to rush at Stasch, but a deep growl pinned him to the spot where

he stood.

A short silence ensued—then Idris’ far-resounding voice rang out:

“Let us break camp! Let us start on our way!”

CHAPTER XI

A day, a night, and another day passed, and they still continued

galloping toward the south, only resting for a short time in the

ravines, so as not to tire out the camels too much, to feed them and to

give them water, and at the same time to attend to their own wants. For

fear of being pursued they turned off more toward the west, as they did

not need to worry about a supply of water for some time. The rain had

only lasted seven hours, but it was such a heavy storm that Idris,

Gebhr, and the Bedouins knew that enough water could be found for

several days to come in the bed of the ravines and in the natural

hollows and cavities made by the rocks. After a great downpour, as is

generally the case, the weather was fine. The heavens were cloudless and

the air so transparent that one could see for an immeasurable distance.

During the night the star-strewn firmament shone with the lustre of a

myriad jewels, and a refreshing coolness came from the desert sand.

The humps of the camels had become smaller, but the animals were well

fed and still “keck,” as the Arabs say, which means that they were not

tired out. They ran so fast that the caravan advanced at almost as sharp

a pace as on the day they departed from Gharak el-Sultani. Stasch was

surprised to see that the Bedouins found provisions of maize and dates

in the many narrow passes among the clefts of the rocks protected from

the rain. That led him to think that certain preparations had been made

before they had been kidnapped and that everything had been planned

beforehand between Fatima, Idris, and Gebhr on one side, and the

Bedouins on the other. It was easy to guess that these men were

partisans of and believers in the Mahdi, who wished to capture him, and

that they were readily drawn into a conspiracy by the Sudanese. In the

vicinity of Fayoum, near Gharak el-Sultani, there were many Bedouins

camping in the desert with their children and camels, who went to

Medinet or to the railway station trying to earn something. But these

two Bedouins Stasch had never seen before; they could not have come from

Medinet, because it seemed they did not know Saba.

It also occurred to the boy that perhaps it might be well to try to

bribe them, but when he remembered their enthusiastic cries each time

the Mahdi’s name was mentioned he knew that this would be impossible.

The boy did not, however, submit passively to all this, for his heart

was full of wonderful energy that had only been stimulated by the

misfortunes he had suffered. “Everything I have undertaken,” he said to

himself, “has ended in my being beaten black and blue. But even if I

were beaten every day with the scourge, or killed, I should not cease

trying to devise for Nell and myself a means of escape from the hands of

these villains. If the parties searching for us get hold of them, all

the better; but I shall act as if I did not expect them to come at all.”

Then when he thought what had happened to him, how these treacherous and

cruel men had taken his gun away, had beaten him with their fists, and

stamped upon him with their feet, he became furiously angry. He not only

felt that he was conquered, but, proud as he was of being a white man,

he felt especially humiliated by being subject to them. Above all, he

felt the wrong done to Nell, and this, together with the exasperation

that had taken deep root in his heart since his last misfortune, made

him heartily hate the Sudanese with an irreconcilable hatred. It is

true, he had often heard his father say that hatred blinds one, and that

only those who are unable to rise above it give way to it, but for the

present he could not suppress it or even hide it.

He could not even prevent its being noticed by Idris, who really began

to feel uneasy, for he realized that in case the pursuers were to

overtake them he could no longer count on the boy’s interceding for him.

Idris was always ready to undertake the most daring deeds, but, being a

very sensible man, he said to himself that one must anticipate

everything in case of defeat; in fact, always have a little side-door

open for escape. Therefore after the last occurrence he wished to get

back a little into Stasch’s good graces, and at the next stopping-place

he began conversing with him.

“After what you attempted to do,” he said, “I had to punish

you—otherwise the others would have beaten you to death; but I told the

Bedouins not to hit you too hard.”

And on receiving no answer he continued:

“Listen; you yourself have said that white people always keep their

promises, and therefore if you will swear to me by your God and by the

head of this little “Biut” that you will not undertake to do us any

harm, I will not have you bound up at night.”

Even then Stasch did not answer a word, and it was only by the strange

glint in his eyes that Idris realized he was speaking in vain.

But although Gebhr and the Bedouins coaxed him, he did not have Stasch

bound at night. When Gebhr continued to insist, he answered him angrily:

“Instead of going to sleep, you will keep guard to-night. I have decided

that henceforth one of us will keep guard while the others sleep.”

And so from this day on relays of guards were arranged. That greatly

hindered, in fact nearly completely frustrated, Stasch’s plans, for each

guard took good care to watch him well. But, on the other hand, the

children were given more freedom, and were allowed to be near each other

and converse freely. So at the next halting-place Stasch sat down by

Nell to thank her for her assistance. But although he was deeply

grateful, he was incapable of expressing his respect and affection, and

so he simply began to shake her little hands.

“Nell,” he said, “you are very good, and I thank you; and besides, let

me tell you that you acted like a person thirteen years old at least.”

Such words from Stasch’s lips were the highest praise, and the little

girl’s heart burned with joy and pride. At this moment it seemed to her

that there was nothing too great for her to attempt.

“When I am grown up they will see!” she replied, casting an aggressive

look in the direction of the Sudanese.

As she did not yet know just what had really happened, and why the Arabs

had attacked Stasch, the boy began to relate how he had made up his mind

to steal the gun, kill the camels, and force their captors to return

with them to the river.

“If this had succeeded,” he said, “we should have been free by this

time.”

“Did they wake up?” asked the girl with beating heart.

“They did wake up! That was Saba’s doing; he came running along and

began to bark enough to awaken the dead.”

Then she was angry with Saba.

“Horrid Saba! For doing that I shall not say a word to him when he comes

running up! I shall just tell him that he is bad!”

Although Stasch was not in a laughing mood, he smiled and asked:

“How can you not speak a word to him and at the same time tell him that

he is bad?”

Nell elevated her eyebrows to show her annoyance, and with a shy voice

replied:

“He will see that by my face.”

“Maybe. But he was not to blame, because he did not know what was going

on; remember, too, that he came to our assistance.”

The remembrance of this somewhat cooled Nell’s anger, but she did not

wish to forgive the evil-doer at once.

“Very well,” she said; “but a real gentleman ought not to bark when

greeting you.”

Stasch smiled again.

“A real gentleman does not bark when greeting you or when saying

good-by, unless he be a dog, and Saba is a dog.”

Soon afterward a sad look came in the boy’s eyes; he sighed again and

again, and then got up from the stone on which they were sitting and

said:

“The worst is that I can not free you.”

Nell stood on tip-toe and put her little arms around his neck. She

wanted to console him, wanted to murmur her thanks close to him, with

her little face on his cheek; but as she could not find appropriate

words, she merely clung more lovingly to his neck and kissed him on his

ear. Saba, who was always late—not so much because he could not keep

step with the camels as because he chased jackals on the way and barked

at the hawks crouching on the rocks—was seen running up and making as

much noise as usual. As soon as the children saw him they forgot

everything, and notwithstanding their sorry plight, they began caressing

him and playing with him as usual, until the Arabs stopped them. Chamis

gave the dog food and water, and then they all remounted and departed in

great haste, going farther toward the south.

This was the longest ride they had taken at one stretch, eighteen hours

with but one short halt. Only riding-camels, who have a considerable

supply of water in their stomachs, can stand such a journey. Idris did

not spare them, for he feared that the pursuers were surely at his

heels. He realized that they must have started long ago, and conjectured

that the two engineers were at the head of these expeditions and would

waste no time. Danger threatened them from the river-side, for it was

quite certain that the sheiks on both banks of the Nile would form

scouting parties to go into the interior of the desert, and would hold

back all travelers going south. Chamis felt certain that the government

and the engineers had offered a great reward for their capture, and that

consequently the desert was probably filled with searchers. The only way

to avoid these would be to go as far west as possible; but to the west

lay the great oasis of Chargeh, where there was a telegraph. Besides,

were they to go too far away from the river the water would give out

after a few days and they would die of thirst. There was also the

question of provisions. It is true that in the two weeks preceding the

kidnapping of the children the Bedouins had hidden provisions of maize,

zwieback, and dates in secret places known only to themselves, but these

secret places were four days’ journey from Medinet. Idris was

terror-stricken at the thought that when the food gave out some of them

would have to go to the villages on the river-banks to buy provisions,

and that, on account of the strict watch and the rewards offered by the

village sheiks for the capture of the fugitives, these might easily fall

into the hands of the villagers and betray the whole caravan. The

situation was indeed difficult, almost desperate, and Idris saw more

clearly every day what a wild scheme he had undertaken.

“If we had only passed Assuan,” said he to himself, his heart full of

fear and despair. He did not believe Chamis, who declared the Mahdi’s

warriors had already advanced as far as Assuan, for Stasch disputed

this, and Idris had long noticed that the white boy knew more than all

of them. However, he supposed that beyond the first cataract, where the

people were more savage and less under the influences of the English

people and the Egyptian Government, more secret believers in the prophet

were to be found, who if necessary would help them and supply them with

provisions and camels. But the Bedouins had calculated that they were

still about five days’ journey from Assuan.

The way led through still more desolate country, and at every halt the

provisions for man and beast sank lower.

Fortunately, they could drive the camels on, and make them gallop as

fast as they pleased, for the heat had not exhausted the animals’

strength. In the daytime, during the noon hours, the sun beat down

fiercely upon them, but the air was always fresh and the nights so cool

that Stasch, with Idris’ permission, mounted Nell’s camel to look after

her health and to protect her from the cold. But his fears were

groundless, for Dinah, whose eyes had greatly improved, looked carefully

after her little lady.

The boy was surprised that the little one’s health had not suffered, and

that she stood the journey as well as he, especially when the halts were

becoming less and less frequent. Sorrow and fear, and the tears which

she had shed longing for papa, had apparently not done her much harm.

She had perhaps become a little thin, and her pale face was tanned by

the wind, but as time went on she stood the journey better than in the

beginning. Idris had given her the best camel, and had arranged the

saddle very comfortably so that she could sleep, but it was the fresh

desert air especially, breathed night and day, that gave her the

strength to bear the fatigue and discomfort of the journey.

Stasch not only protected her, but he intentionally treated her with a

reverence the depth of which he did not realize, notwithstanding his

unusual attachment for the little one. He noticed that the Arabs also

caught this attitude, and that it unconsciously strengthened their

conviction that they were carrying along something exceedingly precious,

an especially important prisoner, whom they had to treat most carefully.

Idris had accustomed them to this before leaving Medinet, and so they

all behaved well toward her. They gave her plenty of water and dates.

The cruel Gebhr dared not raise his hand against her again. Perhaps the

unusual beauty of the girl, and the fact that she looked somewhat like a

flower or a little bird, had its effect, for even the savage and

uncultivated hearts of the Arabs could not resist her charm. Sometimes,

also, at the halting-places, when she stood around the fire made of

Jericho roses, colored with the red light from the flames and the

silvery light from the moon, the Sudanese and the Bedouins could not

take their eyes off her, but murmured, according to their custom,

smacking their lips as a sign of admiration:

“Allah! Maschallah! Bismillah!”

At noon the second day, after traveling that long stretch, Stasch and

Nell, who were now riding on the same camel, had a moment of intense

joy. Immediately after sunrise a clear and transparent mist, which,

however, soon disappeared, hovered over the desert. But when the sun

rose higher the heat became greater than on the previous days. When the

camels stood still for a moment there was not a breath of wind stirring,

so that the air, as well as the sand, appeared to slumber in heat,

light, and silence. The caravan had just reached a large level plain,

unbroken by ravines, when suddenly a wonderful sight presented itself

before the children. Groups of slim palms and pepper-trees, orange

plantations, white houses, a small mosque with a towering minaret and

broad walls, surrounded by gardens, appeared so plainly and so close to

them that it seemed as though the caravan would be under the trees of an

oasis in half an hour.

“What is that?” cried Stasch. “Nell! Nell! Look!”

As Nell raised up she was struck dumb with surprise, but soon after she

cried out with joy:

“Medinet! To papa! To papa!”

But Stasch became pale with emotion.

“In fact—that may be Chargeh. But no! It must be Medinet. I remember

the minaret and I even see the windmill on the well.”

And in reality in the distance were distinctly seen the tall windmills

of American wells, resembling large white stars. These stood out so

clearly on the green background of the trees that Stasch’s sharp eye

could discern the red-painted edges of the spokes of the windmills.

“That is Medinet!”

Stasch had read in books that in the desert there is an optical illusion

known as a “mirage,” and that travelers sometimes see oases, towns, rows

of trees, and lakes that are not real, but are produced by atmospheric

conditions, which, due to the reflection of light, cause far-distant

objects to appear as if nearby. But this time the apparition was so

distinct that it seemed as if it could be touched, and although he knew

it must be an illusion, he could not doubt that he was looking at the

real Medinet. There was the little tower on the house of the Moodir, the

round-shaped passage just under the top of the minaret, where the

muezzin calls the faithful to prayers; there were the familiar groups of

trees, and especially the windmills! No, this must be the real place. It

occurred to the boy that perhaps the Sudanese, after thinking things

over, had come to the conclusion that they would not be able to escape

their pursuers, and, without having told him, were returning to Fayoum.

But they were so composed that he doubted if this were so. If it were

really Fayoum, would they look at it with such indifference? For they

saw the apparition, too, and pointed it out to one another, but their

faces portrayed no uncertainty or anxiety. Stasch looked at it again,

and perhaps it was this indifference on the part of the Arabs which made

the picture appear to fade before him. He also thought that if they were

really returning, the people, being frightened, would have kept closer

together. The Bedouins, who by Idris’ orders had for several days ridden

on in advance, could no longer be seen, and Chamis, who brought up the

rear, looked in the distance no larger than a hawk flying along the

ground.

“The mirage!” said Stasch to himself.

Meanwhile Idris approached and cried out to him:

“Hoh! Drive the camel on! Don’t you see Medinet?”

He appeared to be jesting and spoke in such a scornful tone that the

very faintest shadow of hope that this might be Medinet lying before him

vanished from the boy’s heart.

[Illustration: “Idris approached and cried out to him. . . . ‘Don’t you

see Medinet?’ He spoke in such a scornful tone that all hope vanished

from the boy’s heart.” ]

Sadly he turned to Nell to dispel her illusion when something suddenly

happened which turned the attention of all in another direction.

At first one of the Bedouins came galloping up fast toward them, and

while still at a distance began to gesticulate with a long Arabian gun

that did not belong to any one in the caravan. When he reached Idris he

exchanged a few hasty words with him; then the caravan turned toward the

interior of the desert. After a while the second Bedouin appeared,

leading a fat camel with a saddle on its hump and leather bags hanging

down from his flanks. Again a short conversation took place, but Stasch

could not catch a word of it. The caravan rode quickly without a stop

toward the west, and only halted when it reached a narrow ravine full of

broken rocks and caves. One of these was so spacious that the Sudanese

were able to place all the people and camels in it. Although Stasch

thought he knew what had happened, he lay down next to Idris and

pretended to go to sleep, hoping that the Arabs, who had scarcely spoken

a word about their adventure until now, would soon begin to talk about

it. His hopes were well founded, for soon after, having scattered food

for the camels, the Bedouins sat down to consult with the Sudanese and

Chamis.

“From now on we must ride only by night and hide in the daytime,” the

one-eyed Bedouin said. “In future we will come across many ravines, and

in these we can conceal ourselves securely.”

“Are you sure that it was a guard?” asked Idris.

“Allah! We spoke to him. It was good that he was alone. He stood

concealed behind a rock so that we could not see him, but we heard the

camel’s voice from a distance. Then we slackened our pace and rode so

softly that he saw us only when we were a few steps off. He was very

much frightened, and tried to point his gun at us. If he had fired, even

if he had not killed one of us, the other guards would have heard the

shot, and so I said to him quickly: ‘Stop! We are pursuing people who

have carried off two white children, and soon all our company will be

here.’ The fellow was young and stupid, and so he believed us—though he

made us swear by the Koran that we were telling the truth. We dismounted

from the camels and swore. The Mahdi will forgive us.”

“And bless you,” said Idris. “Tell us what you did.”

“When we had sworn,” continued the Bedouin, “I said to the young man:

‘But who can prove to us that you yourself do not belong to the thieves

who are fleeing with the white children and have left you here to hold

up the pursuers?’ I bade him to swear, too, which he did, and he

believed us all the more. We began to question him, asking what orders

had come from the sheiks along the copper wire, and whether the thieves

were being pursued in the desert. He replied in the affirmative, and

said that they had been promised great rewards; also that all ravines at

a distance of two days’ journey from the river were guarded, and that

there were large baburis (steamers) filled with Englishmen and soldiers

continually passing up and down the river.”

“Neither ships nor soldiers are of any avail against the power of Allah

and the prophet.”

“It is as you say!”

“And now tell us how you made way with that fellow?”

The one-eyed Bedouin pointed to his companion.

“Abu Anga,” he said, “then asked him if there were no other guards

nearby, and on his replying in the negative, he suddenly drove his knife

into his throat, so that the latter never uttered a sound. We threw him

into a deep hollow and covered him up with stones and thorns. In the

village they will think that he has fled to the Mahdi, for he told us

that such things have happened.”

“May God bless those who flee, as he has blessed us,” answered Idris.

“Yes, we have been blessed!” answered Abu Anga. “For now we know we must

keep three days’ journey away from the river, and besides that we have

captured a gun, which we needed, and also a camel to milk.”

“The bags,” added the one-eyed man, “are filled with water, and there is

a fair amount of millet in the saddle bags, but we did not find much

powder.”

“Chamis has several hundred cartridges, which belong to this white boy’s

gun, which we don’t know how to shoot. But the powder is the same and it

will also do for our gun.”

Still Idris became thoughtful as he heard these words, and a very

troubled look was imprinted on his dark face, for he realized that as

one had already been killed, even Stasch’s intervention could not

protect them from being punished, in case they should now fall into the

hands of the Egyptian Government.

Stasch listened attentively with beating heart. This conversation seemed

like good news to him, and he was especially glad to hear that parties

had been sent out to hunt for them, that rewards had been offered, and

that the sheiks of the tribes along the banks had received orders to

hold up all caravans traveling south. The boy was also greatly pleased

on hearing about the ships which steamed up stream with the English

soldiers. The Dervishes of the Mahdi could fight well with the Egyptian

army, and even defeat them, but with the English it was quite different,

and Stasch did not doubt a minute that the first battle would end in the

savage tribes being completely defeated. Thus he consoled himself with

the thought that even if they were taken to the Mahdi, there was a

possibility that before they got there the Mahdi or the Dervishes might

be wiped out. But he did not feel so much comforted when he thought that

in this case a journey of a whole week still lay before them, which

would at least exhaust Nell’s strength, and that during all that time

they would be in the company of these villains and murderers.

When Stasch thought of the young Arab whom the Bedouins had slaughtered

like a sheep, he felt very much frightened and sad. He decided not to

say anything about it to Nell, for fear that it might terrify her and

increase the sadness she had felt on seeing the illusive pictures of the

oasis Fayoum and the town Medinet disappear. Before they had reached the

ravine he saw that her eyes were filled with tears. And so, when he had

gotten all the information he wanted out of the story, he pretended to

awake, and went to Nell. She was sitting in a corner next to Dinah

eating dates, which she moistened a little with her tears. When she saw

Stasch she remembered that not long ago he had praised her behavior as

being that of a girl at least thirteen years old, so she clenched a

date-stone with all her might between her teeth, to help her control her

sobs, that she would not seem like a child again.

“Nell,” said the boy, “Medinet was an illusion, but I know for certain

that we are being followed, so don’t worry any more and don’t cry any

more.”

On hearing this the girl raised her tear-stained eyes to him, and

answered in broken phrases:

“No, Stasch! I do not want to cry—only my eyes—perspire so——”

At the same moment her chin began to quiver, large tears fell from

beneath her closed lids, and she burst out crying. But being ashamed of

these tears, and expecting Stasch to reprove her for shedding them, she

hid her little head for shame and fear on Stasch’s breast and thus

completely moistened his clothes.

He now began to console her:

“Nell, do not be a fountain! Did you see that they have taken a gun and

a camel away from some Arab? Do you know what that means? It means that

the desert is full of guards. These wretches have succeeded in

surprising a guard this time, but the next time they will be caught

themselves. Several steamers are keeping watch on the Nile! Of course,

Nell, we shall return home, and on a steamer, too. Fear nothing!——”

He would have consoled her still longer in this way if a peculiar sound

ringing out of the center of the flying sand, which the last hurricane

had blown into the ravine, had not attracted his attention. This sound

somewhat resembled the thin metallic music of a whistle. Stasch

interrupted the conversation and began to listen. Soon afterward similar

sounds, thin and sad, could be heard coming from various directions at

once. An idea occurred to the boy that perhaps Arabian guards had

surrounded the ravine and were making signals to one another by means of

whistles. His heart began to beat. He repeatedly looked at the Sudanese,

in the hope of seeing fear on their faces, but in vain. Idris, Gebhr,

and the two Bedouins calmly chewed zwieback. Chamis was the only one who

appeared surprised, and the sounds continued. After a while Idris got up

and looked out of the cave; then he returned, stopped in front of the

children, and said:

“The sand is beginning to sing.”

Stasch was so curious that for the moment he forgot his resolution not

to speak to Idris again, and asked:

“The sand? What does that mean?”

“It often happens; and it means that there will be no more rain for a

long time. But the heat will not harm us, for until we reach Assuan we

shall ride only by night.”

And he would say no more. Stasch and Nell listened for some time to

these peculiar sounds, which lasted until the sun went down in the west.

Then night came on and the caravan continued on its journey.

CHAPTER XII

During the day they secreted themselves in places difficult of access,

in the midst of cliffs and rocks, and during the night they hurried on

without stopping, until they had passed the first cataract, when at last

the Bedouins recognized, from the position and shape of the khor, that

Assuan now lay behind them. With this a heavy weight fell from Idris’

shoulders. As they were now suffering for lack of water, they approached

to within half a day’s journey of the river. After Idris had secreted

the caravan for the following night, he sent all the camels with the

Bedouins to the Nile, so that they could drink enough to last for some

time. The fertile zone along the Nile becomes narrower after leaving

Assuan. In some places the desert reaches to the river. The villages are

some distance apart, and thus the Bedouins were able to return safely,

having been perceived by no one, and with a plentiful supply of water.

Now the only question was how to obtain food, for their animals had had

so little to eat this last week that they had become very thin. Their

necks were long, their humps sunken in, and their feet weak. The maize

and other food for the party could at a stretch last only two days

longer. But Idris was of the opinion that at the end of two days’

journey, though traveling only by night, they might approach the

pastures near the river, and perhaps be able to buy dates and zwieback

in some village.

Saba received absolutely nothing more to eat or drink; the children

saved some scraps for him, but he knew how to help himself out in some

way, for he arrived at the halting-places with a bloody throat and

traces of bites on his neck and chest. Whether the spoils of these

fights were jackals or hyenas, or perhaps even sand-foxes and gazels, no

one ever knew; it sufficed that he did not appear to be very hungry.

Sometimes also his black lips were wet, as if he had drunk. The Bedouins

supposed that he had dug deep holes in the ground of the ravines and in

this manner had reached water that he had scented through the ground.

Sometimes lost travelers dig up the broken earth, and if they do not

always find water, they nearly always come upon wet sand, and by sucking

the water out of it quench their painful thirst.

But a great change had also come over Saba. His chest and neck were

still strong, but his flanks were sunken in, which made him look taller.

His bloodshot eyes had a savage and threatening look. But to Nell and

Stasch he was as devoted as ever, and let them do what they liked with

him; he wagged his tail at Chamis now and then, but at the Bedouins and

Sudanese he barked, showed his terrible fangs, and ground his teeth like

iron nails. Thus Idris and Gebhr began to be afraid of him, and they

hated him so that they would probably have shot him with the gun they

had captured if the desire of bringing Smain such a rare specimen of an

animal, and the fact that they had already left Assuan behind them, had

not held them back.

Assuan lay behind them! Stasch continually thought of this, and it

slowly dawned upon him that there was great doubt of the searchers

overtaking them. It is true, he knew that not only the so-called

Egypt—which ends below Wadi Halfa, that is, in the vicinity of the

second cataract—but also the whole of Nubia, was at this time in the

hands of the Egyptian Government, and he also realized that on the other

side of Assuan, and especially below Wadi Halfa, it would be more

difficult to search for them, and the orders of the government would be

less promptly executed. However, he still cherished the hope that his

father and Mr. Rawlison, after having organized the search, would go

alone by steamer from Fayoum to Wadi Halfa, and from there, after having

obtained from the government soldiers mounted on camels, would try to

bar the way of the caravan from the southern side. The boy calculated

that he would do this if he were so situated, and so he considered that

he had a good foundation for his supposition.

He did not give up the thought of attempting to escape. The Sudanese

wanted powder for the gun they had captured, and to get it they decided

to tear open a number of cartridges; so he told them that he only could

do it, and that if one of them went clumsily at it the cartridge would

explode and tear off his hand. Idris, who was usually afraid of strange

things and English discoveries, in the end decided to trust this work to

the boy. Stasch was glad to do it, because he hoped that the strong

English powder would burst the old Arabian gun at the first shot, and he

also hoped to be able to secrete a few cartridges. He found this easier

than he thought. He was watched while he did it, but the Arabs began to

talk among themselves, and they were soon paying more attention to their

conversation than to him. This talkativeness and inborn carelessness at

last permitted Stasch to hide seven cartridges in his breast pocket. Now

it was only a case of gaining possession of the rifle.

The boy believed that this would not be very difficult beyond Wadi

Halfa, after the second cataract, for he supposed that the watchfulness

of the Arabs would slacken in proportion as they approached their

destination. The thought that he would have to kill the Bedouins, the

Sudanese, and even Chamis still filled him with terror, but after the

murder which the Bedouins had committed he had no more scruples. He said

to himself that after all it was a matter of Nell’s defense, of her

freedom, and of her life, that therefore he ought not to spare the lives

of their enemies, especially if they would not surrender and a fight

should result. The question was now how to obtain the gun. Stasch

decided to take it by strategy if he found a suitable opportunity—not

to wait till they reached Wadi Halfa, but to execute his intention as

soon as possible. And he did not wait.

Two days had now elapsed since they passed Assuan, and at last, at

daybreak of the third day, Idris was obliged to send the Bedouins for

food, which was now very scarce. Stasch, when he considered that he now

had fewer opponents, said to himself, “Now or never!” and immediately

turned to the Sudanese with the question:

“Idris, do you know that the country beginning at Wadi Halfa is Nubia?”

“I know it. I was fifteen and Gebhr eight years old when our fathers

brought us from the south to Fayoum, and I remember that at that time we

traveled all through Nubia on camels. But this country still belongs to

the Turks (Egyptians).

“Yes, the Mahdi is only at Khartum—you see how stupidly Chamis talked

when he told you that the army of the Dervishes extended as far as

Assuan. But I should like to ask you another question. I have read in

books that in Nubia there are many wild animals and thieves, who are no

good to any one and who attack the Egyptians as well as the faithful

followers of the Mahdi. How will you defend yourselves if wild animals

or thieves attack you?”

Stasch purposely exaggerated when speaking of wild animals, but, on the

other hand, since the beginning of the war attacks by robbers had become

quite frequent, especially in the southern parts of the country

bordering on Sudan.

Idris considered the question a while, for he was not prepared to answer

it because he had not previously thought of these new dangers; then he

said:

“We have knives and a gun.”

“A gun like yours is of no use.”

“I know it. Yours is better, but we do not understand it, and we shall

not give it into your hands.”

“Even if it is not loaded?”

“Yes, for it might be bewitched.”

Stasch raised his eyebrows.

“Idris, if Gebhr had said this I should not have been surprised; but

you—I thought you had more sense! With an unloaded gun even the Mahdi

could not shoot.”

“Be silent!” interrupted Idris angrily. “The Mahdi can shoot with

nothing but his fingers.”

“Then _you_ shoot like that yourself.”

The Sudanese gazed questioningly into the boy’s eyes.

“Why do you want me to give you the gun?”

“I will teach you how to shoot with it.”

“What good will that do?”

“A great deal, for if thieves attack us they might kill all of us! But

if you are afraid of the gun or even of me, then let the matter drop.”

Idris remained silent. He was really afraid, though he did not want to

own it. But he was very anxious to become acquainted with the English

weapon, for possessing it and knowing how to use it would give him

higher standing in the camp of the Mahdists—besides which he could more

readily defend himself in case of an attack.

So after considering a while he said:

“All right. Chamis shall give us the gun and you can take it out of the

case.”

Chamis followed out the order in a half-hearted way, and Gebhr could

offer no opposition because he was busy nearby with the camels. With

trembling hands outstretched, Stasch took the barrel, then the butt, and

handed them to Idris.

“You see that it is empty,” he said.

Idris took the barrel and looked through it into the air.

“Yes, there is nothing in it.”

“Now pay attention,” said Stasch; “this is the way the gun is put

together”—and at the same time he put the butt and the barrel

together—“and this is the way it is opened. Do you see? I shall now

take it apart, and then you may put it together again.”

The Sudanese, who followed Stasch’s movements very attentively, tried to

do likewise, but he did not find it very easy; however, as the Arabs are

generally noted for their great dexterity, the gun was put together

after a while.

“Open it,” said Stasch.

Idris opened the gun without any trouble.

“Close it.”

This was done still more easily.

“Now give me two empty cartridges. I will teach you how to put them in.”

The Arabs had kept the empty cartridges, and so Idris handed two of them

to Stasch, and the lesson began again.

The Sudanese at first became frightened at the noise which the

cartridges made, but at last he was convinced that one can not shoot

with the empty barrel of a gun or with empty cartridges. Besides his

confidence in Stasch also returned, because the boy gave him the weapon

to hold in his hands every few seconds.

“So,” said Stasch, “you can put the gun together, you can open, shut,

point, and pull the trigger, but you must also learn how to take aim,

and that is the most difficult of all. Take an empty water-bag and set

it down a hundred paces away—there, on one of those stones, and then

come back to me. I will show you how to take aim.”

Idris did not hesitate, but took a leather bag and started to set it up

on the designated stone. Before he had gone the first hundred paces

Stasch had drawn out the empty cartridges and replaced them with charged

ones. Stasch’s heart and temples began to throb so violently that he

thought his head would split. The decisive moment had come—the moment

of freedom for Nell and himself—the terrible and longed-for moment of

victory!

Now Idris’ life was in his hands. One pull on the trigger and the

traitor who carried off Nell would fall dead. But Stasch, in whose veins

flowed Polish and French blood, suddenly felt that nothing in the world

could tempt him to shoot one whose back was toward him. For ought he not

at least have the privilege of turning around and looking death in the

face? And what would happen then? Then Gebhr would come running up, and

before he had taken ten steps he, too, would lie writhing in the sand.

Then there was Chamis, but the latter would lose his head, and even if

he did not Stasch would have time to reload the gun. When the Bedouins

returned they would find the three bodies and they themselves would meet

their deserts. All that remained to be done would be to guide the camels

toward the river.

These thoughts raced through Stasch’s head like a whirlwind. He felt

that the deed to be committed in a few seconds was most terrible, but at

the same time most necessary. Pride of victory battled in his breast

with feelings of horror and distaste of the means necessary for mastery.

He hesitated only a moment when he remembered the tortures that white

prisoners had suffered; and at the thought of his father, of Mr.

Rawlison, of Nell, and of Gebhr, who had beaten the girl with the

scourge, he became more bitter against them. “It must be! It must be!”

he cried through his clenched teeth, and his unalterable resolution

showed in his face, which was now set as if carved out of flint.

Meanwhile Idris had laid the leather bag down on a stone a hundred feet

off and turned around. Stasch saw his smiling face and tall figure on

the flat, sandy plain. For the last time the thought flashed through his

mind that this man, now living, would shortly fall to earth and grovel

in the sand in his death agony. But the boy hesitated no longer, and

when Idris was fifty feet nearer he slowly lifted the weapon to his

cheek.

But before he had time to place his finger on the trigger a loud voice

was heard in the direction of the sand-dunes several hundred feet away,

and at the same moment about twenty riders on horses and camels appeared

on the plain. Idris was struck dumb at the sight; Stasch was no less

surprised, but his surprise was soon changed to the greatest joy. At

last these must be the people sent in search of them, for whom they had

waited so long! Yes, it must be! Doubtless the Bedouins had been

captured in the village, and had confessed where the caravan was hidden.

Idris must have had the same idea, for after recovering from his first

fright he came running up to Stasch, his face pale with terror, and

kneeling at his feet, repeated in a gasping voice:

“Sir, remember that I have been good to you! I have been good to the

little Biut.”

Stasch mechanically took the cartridges out of the gun and gazed at the

riders, who galloped up to them as quickly as their animals could carry

them, and with cries of joy tossed their long Arabian guns in the air

and caught them again most dexterously while the animals were still

galloping. In the clear, transparent light they could be distinctly

seen. At their head galloped two Bedouins, who were gesticulating most

violently with their hands and burnooses.

In a few minutes the whole company reached the caravan. Several of the

riders sprang off the horses and camels; others remained in their

saddles continually shouting. But all that could be understood were two

words: “Khartum! Gordon! Gordon! Khartum!”

One of the Bedouins, whom his companion called Abu Anga, at last rushed

up to Idris, who was crouching at Stasch’s feet, and cried:

“Khartum has fallen! Gordon is dead! The Mahdi is triumphant!”

Idris stood up, but did not believe his ears.

“And these people?” he asked, his lips trembling.

“These people were supposed to capture us, but now they are going to

accompany us to the prophet.”

Everything grew dark before Stasch’s eyes.

CHAPTER XIII

The last hope of escaping during the journey had entirely disappeared.

Stasch knew that nothing he could think of would now be of any avail; he

realized that the searching parties would not overtake them, and that if

they survived the fatigue of the journey, they would reach the Mahdi and

be surrendered to Smain. His only comforting thought was that they were

being carried off for Smain to exchange them for his children. But when

would that take place, and what would they have to endure beforehand?

What terrible fate awaited them in the midst of a bloodthirsty, savage

tribe? Whether Nell would be able to stand the fatigue and privations no

one could tell. On the other hand, it was certain that the Mahdi and his

Dervishes hated Christians and Europeans; and so in the boy’s heart

there arose a fear as to whether Smain’s influence would be powerful

enough to protect them against defamation, mistreatment, cruelty, and

the rage of the Mahdists, who murdered even Mohammedans who were loyal

to the government. For the first time since they were carried off Stasch

gave himself up to despair, and a somewhat superstitious expectation

that misfortune was following them took possession of him. For was not

the idea of carrying them off from Fayoum and bringing them to Khartum

in itself perfect madness, that only stupid and savage people like Idris

and Gebhr would entertain, because they did not consider that they had

to travel thousands of kilometers in a land that was under Egyptian, or,

more strictly speaking, under English, control? If things had gone as

they naturally should, they would have been found the very next day; as

things were, they were now in the vicinity of the second cataract. None

of the other caravans sent to search for them had overtaken them, and

the members of the last one which might have held them up had even

joined their kidnappers and placed themselves at their service. Stasch’s

despair, and his anxiety as to what would be the fate of little Nell,

was augmented by his feeling of humiliation that up to this time none of

his plans had succeeded, and what was worse, that he could not devise

new ones, for even though the gun and cartridges had been returned to

him, he could not shoot down all the Arabs now in the caravan.

These thoughts troubled him all the more because deliverance had been so

very near. If Khartum had not fallen, or had fallen only a few days

later, the same people who had now gone over to the Mahdi’s side would

have captured the kidnappers and delivered them over to the government.

Stasch, sitting behind Idris on the camel and listening to their

conversation, soon convinced himself that this would certainly have been

the course; for no sooner had they started on again than the leader of

the pursuing party began to tell Idris what had caused them to betray

the Khedive. They had known that a large army, not Egyptian, but

English, under command of General Wolseley, had gone toward the south to

fight against the Dervishes. They had seen a number of boats which the

terrible English had taken from Assuan to Wadi Halfa, where a railroad

was being built to convey their soldiers as far as Abu Hammed. For some

time all sheiks on the banks of the Nile—those who remained true to the

government as well as those who secretly sympathized with the

Mahdi—were convinced that the destruction of the Dervishes and of their

prophet was inevitable, for no one had ever conquered the English.

“Allah Akbar!” interrupted Idris, as he raised his hands in the air,

“and yet they have been conquered!”

“No!” replied the leader. “The Mahdi let the Dschalno, Berbers, and

Dadschim tribes and thirty thousand of his best warriors commanded by

Musa, the son of Helu, take the field against them. At Abu Klea a

terrible battle was fought, in which God gave the victory to the

unbelievers. Musa, the son of Helu, fell, and only a small remnant of

his army returned to the Mahdi. The souls of the rest are in Paradise

and their bodies lie in the sand, awaiting the day of resurrection. The

news of this battle was soon spread along the banks of the Nile. Then we

thought that the English would advance further south and release

Khartum. The people cried ‘The end! The end!’ Meanwhile it pleased God

to make other plans.”

“How? What has happened?” asked Idris, feverishly excited.

“What has happened?” continued the leader, his face beaming. “Meanwhile,

the Mahdi took Khartum, and during the battle Gordon’s head was cut off,

and as the English were only interested in Gordon, when they heard of

his death they returned to the north again. Allah! We saw ship-loads of

soldiers going up the river, but we did not know what that meant. The

English naturally only spread good news; bad news they keep to

themselves. Therefore some of our party said that the Mahdi had fallen.

But in the end the truth came to light. It is a fact that this land

where we are still belongs to the government. In Wadi Halfa, and as far

south as the third and perhaps the fourth cataract, the Khedive’s

soldiers may still be seen, but now that the English have retreated we

firmly believe that the Mahdi will conquer not only Nubia and Egypt,

Mecca and Medina, but the whole world. And instead of taking you

prisoners and giving you over to the government, we are going to

accompany you to the prophet.”

“So then orders have been given to capture us?”

“In every village, to all the sheiks, and at all military stations. To

places that could not be reached by the copper wire along which the

orders from Cairo were sent, policemen were ordered to make the

announcement that whoever captured you would receive a reward of a

thousand pounds. Maschallah! That is a large fortune! A large one!”

Idris looked suspiciously at the speaker.

“And you prefer the blessing of the Mahdi?”

“Yes, and besides, he has captured so much spoil and so much money in

Khartum that he shovels out Egyptian pounds by the bagful and divides it

among the faithful——”

“But if the Egyptian soldiers are still in Wadi Halfa, and further

south, they may capture us on the road.”

“No! But we must be quick, before they get their bearings; for since the

English have retreated they all have lost their senses, sheiks loyal to

the government as well as the soldiers and police. Every one believes

that the Mahdi will appear at any minute, and so those of us who are

secretly his followers are fleeing to him; no one hinders us, for there

is so much confusion that no one gives orders, and no one knows whom to

obey.”

“Yes, that is so!” answered Idris. “But you were right in saying that we

must hurry, before they recover their senses, for it is still quite a

distance to Khartum——”

Stasch, who had carefully listened to this whole conversation, felt a

momentary feeble ray of hope flickering in his heart. If the Egyptian

soldiers are still occupying several places in Nubia along the banks of

the Nile, then—as the English had taken all the ships with them—they

must get beyond reach of the tribes of the Mahdi by going along the

road. And in this case it might happen that the caravan would meet the

retreating soldiers and be surrounded by them. Stasch also calculated

that it would take a much longer time for the news of the capture of

Khartum to reach the Arabian tribes living to the north of Wadi Halfa,

especially as the Egyptian Government and the English were trying to

keep their defeat a secret; so he supposed that the lawlessness that

must have taken place at first among the Egyptians must be quite over by

this time. It never occurred to the inexperienced boy that the fall of

Khartum and the death of Gordon would occupy the attention of the people

to the exclusion of everything else, and that the sheiks loyal to the

government and the local officials would now have other things to do

than to think of the deliverance of two white children. In fact, the

Arabs who joined their caravan had not the least fear of being pursued.

Though they traveled very rapidly and did not spare the camels, they

remained near the Nile, and often at night they turned toward the river

to water the animals and to fill the leather bags. Sometimes they even

risked riding into the villages in broad daylight. Nevertheless, to make

things doubly safe, they sent several people in advance to reconnoiter,

who made an excuse of buying provisions, to find out the news of the

district—whether all the Egyptian soldiers had left the neighborhood

and whether the inhabitants were partisans of the Turks (Egyptians).

When they came upon a place whose inhabitants secretly sympathized with

the Mahdi, the whole caravan rode into the village, and it often

happened that when the caravan left the place it was joined by several

young Arabs desirous of fleeing to the Mahdi.

Idris also learned that nearly all the Egyptian detachments were in the

Nubian desert, and therefore on the right, the eastern side of the Nile;

and to prevent meeting them they would be obliged to follow the left

bank and go around the larger towns and settlements. That lengthened the

journey, for the river beginning at Wadi Halfa makes an enormous curve,

which at first stretches out far toward the south and then turns off

toward the northeast as far as Abu Hammed, where it takes a more

southerly direction; but, on the other hand, this left bank, especially

south of the oasis of Selimeh, was practically unguarded, and the

Sudanese found the journey quite pleasant, owing to their increased

numbers, and the plentiful supply of food and water. After the third

cataract was passed there was no need to hurry, and so they rode only by

night, hiding themselves during the day between the hills or in the

ravines. Now a cloudless sky hung over them, gray and quiet on the

horizon and in the middle vaulted like a large dome. Every day they

advanced toward the south the heat became more and more unbearable, and

even in the narrow passes and through the deepest shade the heat beat

down upon the caravan. But to offset this the nights were very cold, and

the heavens were sprinkled with shining stars that seemed to cluster in

large and small groups. Stasch noticed that they were not the same

constellations as those in Port Said. He had dreamed one day of seeing

the southern cross, and now he really saw it behind El-Ordeh, and its

light only prophesied misfortune for him. For several evenings the pale

twinkling of the somber zodiacal stars lighted up the west side of the

heavens for some time after the sun had set.

CHAPTER XIV

Two weeks after leaving the district of Wadi Halfa the caravan entered

the land that had been conquered by the Mahdi. They galloped over the

hilly desert of El-Gesireh (Dschesirah) and in the vicinity of Schendi,

where the English had previously inflicted a crushing defeat upon Musa’s

army, they crossed a district which in nowise resembled a desert. Here

there were no sand plains or hillocks. As far as the eye could reach

extended a steppe of partly green grass and jungle, where grew groups of

the prickly acacias that yield the well-known Sudanese rubber. Here and

there they came across enormous trees with such wide-spreading branches

that a hundred people could take shelter from the sun under them. From

time to time the caravan passed high, pillar-like hills covered with

ants, which grow all over equatorial Africa. The green of the pastures

and acacias, after the monotonous dull color of the desert sand, was

more than grateful to the eye. Here Stasch and Nell for the first time

beheld enormous zizyphus[8] trees and equally large oaks. They also saw

large dog-headed baboons, that on catching sight of Saba showed their

anger by their quick motions and by snarling, but did not venture to

attack him.

In places where the steppe somewhat resembled a meadow a great many

camels grazed, guarded by armed warriors of the Mahdi. At the sight of

the caravan the guards jumped up like birds of prey, ran toward them,

hemmed them in on all sides, and shaking their spears and crying aloud,

questioned them as to where they came from, why they were coming from

the north, and where they were going. Sometimes they assumed such a

threatening manner that Idris was obliged to answer the questions at

once to avoid being attacked.

Stasch, who had supposed that the only difference between the

inhabitants of Sudan and the Arabs living in Egypt consisted in their

belief in the Mahdi, and their unwillingness to recognize the authority

of the Khedive, found that he had been greatly mistaken. Most of those

who now constantly held up the caravan had a darker complexion than

Idris and Gebhr, and, compared with the Bedouins, seemed almost black.

There was more negro than Arabian blood in their veins. Their faces and

the upper parts of their bodies were tattooed in various designs or with

phrases from the Koran. Some of them were almost naked, others wore

“Dschubis,” or coats of white woolen texture, finished off with colored

patches. Many had branches of coral or pieces of ivory drawn through

their noses, lips, and ears. The chiefs covered their heads with white

caps, of the same material as their coats. The ordinary soldiers were

bareheaded, but their skulls were not shaven like those of the Arabs of

Egypt; on the contrary, they were covered with coarse, disheveled hair,

which was often colored red and almost burned up by the chalk with which

it was rubbed as a protection against vermin. Their weapons were mostly

spears, which they could wield with fatal dexterity, and they had plenty

of Remington rifles, captured in their victorious battles with the

Egyptian army, and also after the fall of Khartum. On the whole, their

appearance was enough to frighten any one. Their behavior toward the

caravan was hostile, for they suspected that it was made up of Egyptian

merchants, whom the Mahdi had, directly after the victory, forbidden to

enter Sudan. While they surrounded the caravan they screamed and

brandished their spears at the breasts of the men, or pointed the

barrels of their guns at them, whereupon Idris’ voice arose above their

shrieks; he told them that he and his brother belonged to the Dangali

tribe, the same to which the Mahdi belonged, and that they were taking

the white children as prisoners to the prophet. This alone withheld the

savages from laying violent hands on them. When at last Stasch fully

realized this terrible truth, his heart was heavy at the thought of what

they still had to look forward to during the days that were to follow.

Even Idris, who had lived for years in a civilized land, could not

imagine anything more dreadful; and he was glad when an armed division

of the Emir Nur-el-Tadhil surrounded their caravan one evening and took

them to Khartum.

Before Nur-el-Tadhil had fled to the Mahdi he had been an officer in one

of the Khedive’s negro regiments, and since he was not so savage as the

other Mahdists, Idris was better able to get along with him. But even

here he was doomed to be disappointed. He had imagined that his arrival

with white children in the camp of the Mahdi would, in consideration of

the terrible fatigue and the dangers of the journey, arouse admiration.

He hoped that the Mahdists would receive him enthusiastically and lead

him in triumph to the prophet, and that the latter would lavish gold and

praise upon him who had rendered such service to his relative, Fatima.

But the Mahdists brandished their spears against the caravan, while

Nur-el-Tadhil listened languidly to the description of the journey. When

at last he was asked if he knew Smain, the husband of Fatima, he said:

“No; in Omdurman and Khartum there are more than a hundred thousand

warriors, so it is impossible for them to know one another; even all the

officers are not acquainted. The kingdom of the prophet is exceedingly

large and therefore many emirs rule over the distant towns in the

districts of Sennaar, Kordofan, Darfur, and near Fashoda. It may be that

this Smain of whom you speak is not in the neighborhood of the prophet

just now.”

Idris felt rather hurt by the disdainful tone with which Nur spoke of

“this Smain,” and so he answered rather impatiently:

“Smain is married to a cousin of the Mahdi, and thus Smain’s children

are relatives of the prophet.”

“The Mahdi has many relatives and can not remember them all.”

For a while they rode on in silence, then Idris again asked:

“When shall we arrive in Khartum?”

“Before midnight,” answered Tadhil, looking at the stars, which began to

appear on the western side of the heavens.

“Shall I be able to get provisions and fodder at such a late hour? We

have not eaten anything since our noon-day rest.”

“You may sleep and eat at my house to-night, but to-morrow, in Omdurman,

you must provide your own food, and I warn you in advance it will not be

very easy.”

“Why?”

“On account of the war. The people have not cultivated the fields in

many years, but have lived on meat, and when the cattle gave out a

famine ensued. Throughout the entire south a famine reigns, and to-day a

sack of maize costs more than a slave.”

“Allah Akbar!” cried Idris, astonished. “Did I not see a great many

camels and herds of cattle on the steppe?”

“Those belong to the prophet, to the nobles,[9] and the califs. Yes, the

Dangalis, from whose tribe come the Mahdi, and the Baggars, whose

chieftain is the chief calif Abdullah, still have herds in plenty, but

life is harder and harder for the other tribes.”

Here Nur-el-Tadhil tapped his stomach and said:

“In the service of the prophet I have a higher place, more money, and

greater power, but in the service of the Khedive I had a larger

stomach.”

As he feared he might have said too much, he added:

“But this will all be a thing of the past when the true faith conquers.”

When Idris heard this remark he unconsciously thought of how he, too,

when in Fayoum and in the service of the English, had never suffered

from hunger, and that he could easily earn money, and he became very

sad.

Then he asked more questions:

“So to-morrow you will take us to Omdurman?”

“Yes. By order of the prophet, Khartum is to be depopulated, and there

are now very few people there. The larger houses are being pulled down,

and the material will be taken along with the remaining spoil to

Omdurman. The prophet will not live in a town that is tainted by

unbelievers.”

“To-morrow I shall fall at his feet, and he will have me supplied with

provisions and fodder.”

“Ha! If you really belong to the tribe of Dangali perhaps you may be

admitted to his presence. But you must know that his house is guarded

night and day by a hundred men armed with scourges, who do not spare

their blows on those who attempt to reach the Mahdi without permission.

Otherwise the people would not give the holy man a minute’s peace.”

“Allah! I myself have seen Dangalis with bloody stripes on their backs.”

Every minute Idris’ disappointment increased.

“So the believers,” he asked, “can not see the prophet?”

“The believers see him daily at the place of prayer, when he kneels on a

sheepskin and raises his hands to God, or when he teaches the people and

strengthens them in their faith. But it is very difficult to be admitted

to his presence and to talk to him, and whoever is allowed this

happiness attracts the jealousy of every one else, for upon him God’s

grace descends, blotting out his past sins.”

Now suddenly it grew dark, and became piercing cold. In the ranks of the

caravan the horses could be heard neighing, and the sudden change from

the heat of the day to the cold was so great that the steam arose from

the horses, and the party rode as through a mist. Stasch leaned over

behind Idris’ back toward Nell and asked:

“Are you not cold?”

“No,” answered the girl, “but—there will be no one to protect us——”

Tears drowned the rest of the sentence.

Stasch was unable to find words to comfort her, for he felt convinced

that they would not regain their freedom. They were now in a land of

misery, of bestial cruelty, and of bloodshed. They were like two

miserable little leaves in the midst of a storm, which not only brought

death and destruction to individuals, but to whole towns and tribes.

What hand could save two small, helpless children?

The moon slowly arose in the heavens and turned the branches of the

mimosas and acacias into silver feathers. In the thick jungles sounded

the shrill, joyous laughter of the hyenas, who in this bloodthirsty

stretch of land found more human corpses than they could devour. From

time to time the division which led the caravan met other patrols and

exchanged the arranged password with them. At last they climbed down the

high banks and reached the Nile through a long ravine. The people,

horses, and camels were shipped on large barges, and soon the measured

sweep of the heavy oars cut the smooth surface of the water, illuminated

by the light of the myriad stars.

Half an hour later lights could be seen on the southern side, toward

which the boats were steering, and the nearer they approached this

cluster of lights, the more brilliant was the red glow reflected on the

water. Nur-el-Tadhil nudged Idris, then pointed with his hand and said:

“Khartum!”

They halted at the farther end of the town, in front of a house which

formerly belonged to a rich Italian merchant, who had been killed during

the attack on the town, and afterward, when the spoils were divided, the

house had fallen to Tadhil’s share. The wives of the emir were gentle

and kind to Nell, who was nearly dead from fatigue, and although food

was very scarce in Khartum, they found a few dried dates and some rice

and honey for the little one; then they led the child to the top floor

and put her to bed. Stasch, who spent the night in the open between the

camels and horses, had to content himself with a zwieback, but he had

plenty of water, for strange to say the fountain in the garden had not

been destroyed. Although he was very tired, he could not get to sleep

for a long while. He was kept awake by the scorpions, which crept all

night over the cloth rug on which he lay, and then again because he was

deathly afraid that he might be separated from Nell and not be able to

watch over her any longer. Saba, who continually sniffed around, and

howled from time to time, annoying the soldiers, seemed to be equally

worried. Stasch quieted him as best he could, fearing that some one

might harm him. The enormous creature, however, was greatly admired by

the emir and by all the Dervishes, and no one would have attempted to

injure him in any way.

Nor did Idris sleep. He had felt indisposed all day, and besides this,

after his talk with Nur-el-Tadhil many of his illusions had been

dispelled, and he saw the future now as through a dark veil. He was glad

that on the morrow they were to travel on to Omdurman, which is only

separated from Khartum by the White Nile. He hoped to find Smain, but

what then? During the journey everything had looked clear and distinct

and so much grander to him. He frankly believed in the prophet, and his

heart was drawn more toward him because they both belonged to the same

tribe. But, like most Arabs, he was also greedy for gain, and ambitious.

He had imagined that he would be deluged with gold, and that he would at

least be made an emir, and dreamed of campaigns against the “Turks,” of

captured towns, and spoils. But now, from what Tadhil had told him, he

began to fear that on account of exceedingly important events that had

taken place, his deeds would disappear like rain in the ocean.

“Perhaps,” he thought with bitter regret, “scarcely any one will pay any

attention to what I have done, and Smain will not even be grateful that

I have brought him these children.” This thought vexed him. The

approaching day would decide whether or not his fears were well founded,

and he waited for it impatiently.

At six o’clock the sun rose, and the Dervishes began to bestir

themselves. Shortly after Tadhil appeared and ordered them to get ready

to depart. He told them also that until they reached the place where

they crossed the river they would have to walk alongside of his horse.

To Stasch’s great joy, Dinah brought Nell down from the top floor; then

they went through the whole town, following the wall, until they came to

the place where their transports were moored. Tadhil rode in front, and

behind him came Stasch leading Nell by the hand; they were followed by

Idris, Gebhr, and Chamis, old Dinah and Saba and thirty of the emir’s

soldiers. The rest of the caravan remained in Khartum.

Stasch looked around with interest. He could not understand how such a

strongly fortified town—which lay in a fork made by the White Nile and

the Blue Nile, and therefore surrounded on three sides by water, and

only accessible from the south—could fall. But later the Christian

slaves told him that the water in the river at that time was so low that

wide plains of sand were laid bare, and this made the walls much more

accessible. The garrison had given up all hope of succor; the soldiers,

exhausted by hunger, were unable to stem the rush of the angry tribes,

and so the town was captured and the inhabitants slain. Although a month

had passed since the invasion, traces of the fight could be seen all

along the wall, on the inside of which towered ruined houses, which were

the objects of the conquerors’ first onslaught, and the moat running

around the fortress was choked with corpses, which no one seemed

inclined to bury.

On their way to the river-crossing Stasch counted more than four hundred

bodies, which the Sudanese sun had dried up like mummies. They were all

the color of gray parchment, so that one could not distinguish which

were Europeans, Egyptians, or negroes. Among the corpses moved numbers

of small gray lizards, which on the approach of the caravan quickly

flitted behind the human remains, taking refuge either in a mouth or

between the shriveled ribs.

Stasch managed to prevent Nell seeing all of this terrible sight, and

succeeded in directing her attention the other way, toward the town. But

even there were scenes that filled the eyes and heart of the girl with

horror.

The sight of the captured English children and of Saba, who was led on a

leash by Chamis, attracted a crowd that increased every minute as the

party approached the river-crossing. After a while such a mob collected

that the party had to stop. On all sides threatening cries were heard.

Terrible tattooed faces bent over Stasch and Nell. Most of the savages

burst out laughing in derision when they saw them, beating their sides

with joy; some cursed them, and others roared like wild beasts as they

showed their white teeth and rolled their eyes. At last they began to

threaten them and to brandish knives. Nell, half fainting from fright,

clung close to Stasch, and he protected her as best he could, firmly

convinced that their last hour had come. Fortunately Tadhil could no

longer stand the angry crowd, and at his command some soldiers

surrounded the children, while others began to beat the howling mob most

mercilessly with scourges. Those in front dispersed, but still a great

crowd followed the party with savage yells until they had boarded the

boats.

The children breathed freely again while crossing the river. Stasch

consoled Nell by telling her that when the Dervishes became accustomed

to seeing them they would cease to threaten them, and he assured her

that Smain would protect and defend them both, and especially her, for

if anything serious were to happen to them he would have no one to

exchange for his own children. That was true, but the attacks they had

just encountered so terrified the girl that she seized Stasch’s hand and

would not let go of it for a second; at the same time she cried out over

and over again in a feverish way, “I’m afraid! I’m afraid!” Stasch

wished with all his heart that they would reach Smain as soon as

possible, for he had known them for some time and had been very friendly

to them in Port Said, or at least had feigned to be. At any rate, he was

not so savage as the other Sudanese and Dangalis, and captivity in his

house would be more endurable than this.

He wondered if Smain were known in Omdurman. Idris broached the subject

to Nur-el-Tadhil, and the latter at last remembered that a year before,

through orders given by Calif Abdullah, who lived in Kordofan, quite a

distance from Khartum, he had heard of a person of that name. This Smain

had taught the Dervishes how to fire the cannon captured from the

Egyptians, and later had become a great slave-hunter. He gave Idris the

following instructions in regard to seeing the emir:

“When you hear the sound of the umbaja[10] in the afternoon, be with the

children at the place of prayer, where the prophet goes daily to inspire

the faithful with an example of piety and to strengthen their belief.

There you will see the Mahdi himself and all the nobles, also the three

califs, the pashas, and the emirs, and among the emirs you can surely

pick out Smain.”

“What shall I do and where shall I go until the time for afternoon

prayers?”

“You will remain with my soldiers.”

“And you, Nur-el-Tadhil, will you leave us?”

“I must go to Calif Abdullah for my orders.”

“Is he the greatest of the Califs? I come from a distance, and although

I have been told the names of the leaders, I would welcome further

information regarding them.”

“Abdullah, my leader, is the Mahdi’s sword.”

“May Allah make him the son of victory!”

For a while the boats went silently along. All was still save for the

sliding of the oars against the thole-pins; now and then the furious

splashing of water lashed into foam by the tails of disturbed crocodiles

was heard. Many of these reptiles had come up the river from the south

as far as Khartum; here they found plenty of food, for the river was

strewn with corpses, the bodies of those slain when the town was

attacked as well as of those who had died of the diseases that raged

among the Mahdists, especially among their slaves. The califs had

ordered that the water should not be polluted, but this had been

completely disregarded, and the bodies that the crocodiles did not deign

to touch floated face downward as far as the sixth cataract, and still

farther, even as far as Barbary.

But Idris was now thinking of something else; after a while he said:

“We had nothing to eat this morning; are we to go hungry till the hour

of prayer, and who will supply us with food later on?”

“You are not a slave,” answered Tadhil; “you can go to the market where

provisions are sold. You can get dried meat and perhaps some millet

there, but you will have to pay a high price, for, as I have told you,

there is a famine in Omdurman.”

“And during my absence wicked people might carry off the children or

kill them.”

“The soldiers will guard them; or if you give one of them some money he

will go and procure food for you.”

This was not very acceptable advice to Idris, who much preferred

accepting money to giving it; but before he answered the boats had

landed.

To the children Omdurman looked quite different from Khartum, where

there were brick houses several stories high, the “Moodiria” (the palace

of the governor, in which the heroic Gordon fell), a church, a hospital,

mission-houses, an arsenal, many military garrisons, and a number of

large and small gardens with the plentiful, luxuriant vegetation of the

equatorial districts, whereas Omdurman looked more like a camp of

savages. The fortress, which stood on the northern side of the

settlement, had been destroyed by order of Gordon. As far as could be

seen the town consisted only of round, ball-shaped huts of millet straw.

Narrow hedges of thorns separated these little houses from one another

and from the street. Only here and there were tents, which seemed to

have been captured from the Egyptians. In other places a few palm mats,

under a piece of dirty canvas stretched on bamboo rods, formed the

entire dwelling. The inhabitants took refuge within their houses when it

rained or when the heat was especially oppressive; but at other times

they lived in the open air, where they made their fires, cooked their

food, and lived and died. There was so much confusion in the streets

that in some places the party had the greatest difficulty in passing

through the crowds. Omdurman had formerly been a wretched little

village, but the population was now more than twenty thousand, including

the slaves. Even the Mahdi and his califs were alarmed that so many

people were threatened with hunger and sickness, and expeditions were

constantly sent northward to conquer the towns and districts that still

remained loyal to the Egyptian Government.

At the sight of the white children the multitude occasionally shouted in

a menacing manner, but did not threaten them with death as had the mob

in Khartum. Perhaps the rabble did not dare do so in the immediate

vicinity of the Mahdi, or they may have become accustomed to seeing

prisoners, who had all been taken to Omdurman when Khartum had fallen.

But to Stasch and Nell it was a hell on earth. They beheld Europeans and

Egyptians bleeding from whiplashings on their bare flesh, and all but

starved, used as beasts of burden and dying under their heavy loads.

They saw women and children of European birth, from homes of ease and

comfort—dressed in rags and lean as ghosts, whose white faces utter

wretchedness had turned black—begging for a mouthful of dried meat or a

handful of maize, their starved, wild demeanor telling of terror and

despair. They noted how the savages scoffed when they saw these

miserable prisoners, and how they were pushed about and beaten. In every

side street or little lane scenes were enacted from which the eyes

turned away in horror and affright. In Omdurman a terrible epidemic of

dysentery, typhoid, and smallpox prevailed. The sick, covered with

sores, lay at the entrances of the huts, polluting the air. The

prisoners were forced to drag through the streets the canvas-shrouded

corpses of those who had just died and inter them in the sand outside of

the town, where hyenas attended to the real burial. Over the town

hovered flocks of vultures, whose lazy-flapping wings cast mournful

shadows on the bright sand. When Stasch saw this he thought that the

sooner he and Nell died the better it would be for them.

But even in this sea of misery and inhumanity deeds of kindly pity

occasionally blossomed like tiny pale flowers rising from a foul swamp.

In Omdurman were a number of Greeks and Copts, whom the Mahdi had spared

because he had use for them. These men went around not only unmolested,

but even carried on their different avocations, and some of them,

especially those who had made a pretense of changing their faith, had

become officials of the prophet, which made them quite important in the

eyes of the wild Dervishes. One of these Greeks stopped the party and

began to question the children, asking where they came from. When to his

great surprise he heard that they had been carried off from Fayoum and

had only just arrived, he promised to tell the Mahdi about them and to

inquire after them as soon as practicable. At the same time he bent his

head sorrowfully over Nell and gave each of the children a lot of wild

figs and a piece of money of Marie Therese coinage. He then warned the

soldiers against harming the girl in any way and went off, saying in

English, “Poor little bird!”

After passing along very tortuous little streets they at last reached

the market-place, which stood in the middle of the town. On the way they

saw many people who had had a hand or foot amputated. These were thieves

or evil-doers, who had secreted spoil. Terrible punishments were meted

out by the califs and emirs to those who disobeyed the laws of the

prophet, and even for small transgressions—such, for instance, as

smoking tobacco—the culprits were beaten until they lay bleeding and

unconscious. But the califs themselves subscribed only outwardly to the

rules of the prophet, while at home they did as they pleased, so that

these punishments fell only on the poor, whose goods and chattels they

at the same time confiscated. There was nothing left for the miserable

people to do but to beg, and as there was great scarcity of food in

Omdurman, they succumbed to hunger.

Therefore there were crowds of beggars at the places where provisions

were sold. The first thing that attracted the attention of the children

was a head stuck on the end of a bamboo rod placed in the center of the

round market-place. The face was shriveled and almost black, while the

hair and beard were white as milk. One of the soldiers told Idris that

this was the head of Gordon. At this Stasch was overcome with grief,

indignation, and a burning desire for revenge; yet he was so frightened

that the blood seemed to cease flowing in his veins. This was the fate

of the hero, the fearless and blameless knight, the just and good man,

who was beloved even in Sudan. And the English, who had not come to his

assistance in time, but had rather withdrawn their aid, now abandoned

his remains, exposed to ridicule, without giving them the honor of

Christian burial. From that moment Stasch lost all faith in the English.

Until now he had naïvely believed that England, if the least wrong were

done to one of her countrymen, was always ready to challenge the whole

world. Until now in the depths of his soul there had always glimmered a

ray of hope that, the search proving unsuccessful, English troops would

be sent as far as Khartum, and even farther, to protect Mr. Rawlison’s

daughter. Now he knew but too well that Khartum and the whole country

was in the hands of the Mahdi, and that the Egyptian Government, and

England, too, would think rather of protecting themselves from further

attacks than of devising means for the release of European prisoners.

He realized that he and Nell had fallen into an abyss from which there

was no possible means of escape, and these thoughts, in addition to the

horrors he had witnessed in the streets of Omdurman, were the last

straw. His usual elasticity and energy were replaced by complete and

irresistible submission to his fate and anxiety for the future. He gazed

around almost languidly at the market-place and the stands, at which

Idris was bargaining for food. Here the street merchants, chiefly

Sudanese women and negresses, sold Dschubis (white linen smocks with

different colored trimmings), acacia-rubber, hollowed-out bottle-gourds,

glass beads, sulphur, and all kinds of mats. There were benches where

provisions were on sale, and around these a large crowd gathered. The

Mahdists bought at high prices chiefly pieces of dried meat of domestic

animals, buffaloes, antelopes, and giraffes. But there were absolutely

no dates, figs, or maize. Once in a while they sold water mixed with the

honey of wild bees and millet seeds soaked in an infusion of tamarinds.

Idris was in despair, for he saw that the market prices were so high

that he would soon spend all the money given him by Fatima for

provisions, and then he would be obliged to beg. His only hope now lay

in Smain. Strangely enough, at this very moment Stasch, too, relied on

Smain’s help.

Half an hour later Nur-el-Tadhil returned from the calif. Apparently

something disagreeable had happened to him there, for he was in a very

bad humor, and when Idris asked him whether he had heard anything about

Smain, he answered him abruptly:

“You fool, do you suppose that the calif and I have nothing better to do

than to find Smain for you?”

“What do you intend me to do now?”

“Do what you please. I have allowed you to spend the night in my house,

and I have given you much good advice, and now I do not wish to hear

from you again.”

“All right; but where shall I find shelter for the night?”

“That is no affair of mine.”

With these words he departed, taking the soldiers with him. Idris could

hardly beg him to send the caravan and the Arabs who had joined them

between Assuan and Wadi Halfa, to him in the market-place. These people

had only arrived at mid-day, and then it was evident that none of them

knew what to do. The two Sudanese began to quarrel with Idris and Gebhr,

declaring that they had imagined that they would have a very different

reception, and that they had purposely been deceived. After lengthy

discussions and consultations they decided to erect on the outskirts of

the town tents of fir branches and bamboo, in which to seek shelter for

the night, and then to wait and leave the rest to Providence.

When they had finished the tents, which did not take long to build, all

the Sudanese and negroes, except Chamis, who was to prepare the evening

meal, went off to the public place of prayer. It was easy to find, for

crowds from all sections of Omdurman were going there. The place was

spacious, bordered by a hedge of thorns and partly by a clay wall, which

had just been commenced. In the center was a wooden platform, on which

the prophet stood while instructing the people. On the ground, in front

of the tribune, sheepskins were spread out for the Mahdi, the calif, and

the more important sheiks. At the sides the flags of the Empire were

hoisted. The banners fluttered in the wind and shone like large

variegated flowers. The four sides of the place were lined with crowded

rows of Dervishes. All around could be seen towering forests of spears,

with which nearly all the warriors were armed.

It was lucky for Idris and Gebhr, as well as for the rest of the

caravan, that they were considered followers of one of the emirs, and

therefore could get in the front ranks of the crowd. The arrival of the

Mahdi was first announced by the far-reaching and solemn umbaja, and

when he appeared sharp whistles, the beating of drums, the clattering of

stones shaken in empty bottle-gourds, rang out, all combining in a most

infernal racket. The people were beside themselves with enthusiasm. Some

fell on their knees, others cried out as loud as they could, “Oh, you

are sent from God!” “Oh, victorious one!” “Oh, merciful one!” “Oh,

pitying one!” and kindred exclamations, that lasted until the Mahdi

stepped into the pulpit. Then amid dead silence he raised his hands, put

his thumbs in his ears, and prayed for a while. The children stood quite

near and could see him very well. He was a man of middle age, singularly

corpulent and bloated, and nearly black. Stasch, who was an especially

quick observer, noticed that his face was tattooed and that he wore a

large ivory ring in one ear. He was dressed in a white coat and had a

white cap on his head; his feet were bare, for before he mounted the

pulpit he had removed his red half-high shoes and left them on the

sheepskins, where he was afterward going to pray. There was not the

least attempt at luxury in his dress, but occasionally the wind blew a

strong and pleasing odor of sandalwood[11] from him, which the believers

greedily sniffed up their noses, at the same time rolling their eyes

with delight. Stasch had imagined the terrible prophet, the robber and

murderer of so many thousands, to be quite a different looking person,

and whilst gazing at this fat face with its mild expression and tearful

eyes, and with a smile constantly hovering about the lips, he could not

conceal his surprise. He thought that such a man would have the head of

a hyena or a crocodile, but instead he saw before him a fat-cheeked

gourd with a face like a full moon.

The prophet began his teaching. His deep and ringing voice could be

heard over all the place, so that every word reached the ears of the

believers. He now spoke of the punishments inflicted by God on those who

do not follow the laws of the Mahdi, but instead conceal spoil, get

drunk, steal, spare the enemy in war, and smoke tobacco. These crimes,

he said, would result in Allah’s sending down upon such sinners hunger

and that sickness which honeycombs the face.[12] This earthly life is

like a vessel with a hole in it. Riches and pleasures sink in the sand.

True belief is like a cow that gives sweet milk. But Paradise is open to

the victor only. Those who conquer the enemy will gain salvation. Those

who die for the faith will live forever and ever. Happy, a hundred times

happy, are those who have already fallen——

“We will die for the faith!” cried the people in a loud voice.

Soon after the infernal noise began again. Trumpets and drums resounded.

The warriors beat sword against sword and spear against spear. The

warlike enthusiasm seized every one like a flame. Some cried out, “The

faith is victory!” Others, “By death to Paradise!” Then Stasch

understood why the Egyptian soldiers could not resist these wild tribes.

When quiet was somewhat restored the prophet began to speak again. He

told of the visions he frequently had and about the mission he had

received from God. Allah had commanded him to purify the faith and to

spread it over the whole world. And he said that any one not recognizing

him as the Mahdi, the saviour, would be condemned to destruction. The

end of the world is near, but before it comes it is the duty of the

believers to conquer Egypt, Mecca, and all the lands on the other side

of the sea, where the heathen dwell. That is the will of God, and

nothing can change it. Much blood will still be shed, many warriors will

not return to their wives and children in their tents, but no human

tongue can portray the happiness of those who fall in the cause.

Then he stretched out his hands toward the assembled multitude, and

closing, said:

“I, the saviour, and servant of God, bless the holy war and you

warriors. I bless your fatigue, your wounds, your death. I bless the

victory, and mourn for you as a father who loves you.”

He burst into tears. When he left the pulpit screams and wailing rent

the air. Every one wept. The two califs, Abdullah and Ali-uled-Helu,

gave their arms to the Mahdi to support him, and led him to the

sheepskin, on which he knelt. During this short moment Idris feverishly

asked Stasch whether Smain was not among the emirs.

“No!” replied the boy, who with his sharp eyes had searched in vain for

the well-known face. “I can not see him anywhere. Perhaps he fell in the

attack on Khartum.”

Nor could Chamis, who had known Smain in Port Said, find him. The

prayers lasted a long while. The Mahdi moved his hands and legs like a

circus-clown, then raised his eyes in ecstasy, while repeating: “There

is God! There he is!” And as the sun was about to set he arose and

walked homeward.

The children now saw with what reverence the Dervishes surrounded their

prophet, for crowds followed his footsteps and scraped up the earth on

which he had trodden. This led to quarrels and fights, for the people

believed that this earth would secure health to the well and also cure

the sick. Gradually the crowd left the place of prayer. Idris did not

know what was best to do, and he had just decided to return to the tents

for the night with the children and all the baggage, when the same Greek

who had given Stasch and Nell the dates and coin that morning stood

before them.

“I have spoken to the Mahdi about you,” he said in Arabic, “and the

prophet wishes to see you.”

“Thanks to Allah and to you, sir!” cried Idris. “Shall we find Smain

again by the Mahdi’s side?”

“Smain is in Fashoda,” answered the Greek. Then he said to Stasch in

English:

“Perhaps the prophet will take you under his protection, for I have done

my best to get him to do so. I told him that the fame of his mercy would

spread abroad throughout all the white nations. Terrible things are

happening all around us, and unless you are under his protection you

will surely succumb to hunger, privation, and sickness from the

treatment you will receive at the hands of these madmen. But he must be

kept interested in you.”

“What shall I do, sir?” asked Stasch.

“When you first come into his presence, fall on your knees, and when he

gives you his hand, kiss it respectfully and beseech him to take you

both under his protecting wing.”

Here the Greek stopped and asked:

“Do none of these people understand English?”

“No. Chamis has remained in the tent, and Idris and Gebhr only

understand a few words, and the others not a word.”

“That’s well. Listen to what I say, for everything must be planned in

advance. The Mahdi will ask you whether you are prepared to accept his

faith. Immediately answer that you are prepared, and that his presence

had from the first shed a peculiar light of grace upon you. Remember, a

peculiar light of grace! That will flatter him and he will include you

among his personal servants. Then you will have luxuries and every

comfort, which will prevent you from becoming ill. But if you act

differently you will endanger yourself and this poor little thing, and

also me, the one who wishes you well. Do you understand?”

Stasch clenched his teeth and made no answer, but his face became rigid

and his eyes had a strange light in them. The Greek, noticing this,

continued:

“My boy, I know that this is a disagreeable matter, but there is nothing

else to be done! All those who were spared after the bloody massacre in

Khartum have accepted the faith of the Mahdi. The Catholic missionaries

and nuns did not accept it, but that is a different matter. The Koran

forbids the murdering of priests, and although their fate is terrible

enough, yet at least they are not threatened with death. But for people

of other classes that was the only means of escape. I repeat, every one

accepted Mohammedanism—the Germans, Italians, Copts, English,

Greeks—even I myself.”

And although Stasch had assured him that not one in the caravan

understood English, his voice sank to a whisper:

“I do not need to tell you that this step does not mean a denial of the

Faith or treason or apostasy. In his soul each one remains what he was

before, and God knows this. One must bend to power, if only apparently.

It is a man’s duty to defend his life, and it would be madness, yes,

even sin, to endanger it—and for what reason? For the mere sake of

appearances, for the sake of a few words spoken, which even when you

utter them you can inwardly deny. Besides, remember in your hands lies

not only your own life, but also the life of your little companion,

whose fate you have no right to decide. I assure you that when the time

comes for God to deliver you from the hands of these people, you will

have nothing with which to reproach yourself, and no one will reproach

you—no more than any of us——”

While the Greek talked to the boy in this way, perhaps he deceived his

own conscience, but Stasch’s silence also deceived him, for he at last

mistook it for fear. So he tried to encourage the boy.

“These are the houses of the Mahdi,” he said. “He prefers staying in

these wooden huts here in Omdurman rather than to live in Khartum,

although he could have taken possession of Gordon’s palace. Keep up your

courage! Don’t lose your head! Answer all questions promptly and with

decision. Here they admire every form of courage. Don’t imagine that the

Mahdi will roar at you like a lion. No! He always smiles—even when he

does not contemplate any good deeds.”

As he spoke these words he called to the crowd standing before the house

to make room for the “guests” of the prophet.

-----

Footnote 8:

Zizyphus Spina Christi, a spiny and usually small shrub, sometimes

called the jujube-tree.

Footnote 9:

The Mahdi’s brothers and relatives.

Footnote 10:

A large trumpet made of an elephant’s tusk.

Footnote 11:

In the Orient they prepare a scented oil from sandalwood.

Footnote 12:

The smallpox.

CHAPTER XV

When they entered the room they saw the Mahdi lying on a soft couch,

surrounded by his wives, two of whom were fanning him with large ostrich

feathers. No one else was with him except Calif Abdullah and Calif

Sherif; for the third calif, Ali-uled-Helu, was at this time forwarding

soldiers to the north, to Barbary, and to Abu Hammed, places already

captured by the Dervishes. When the prophet saw the newcomers he pushed

aside the women and sat up on the couch. Idris, Gebhr, and the two

Bedouins fell on their faces and then knelt with their hands on their

chests.

The Greek made a sign to Stasch to do the same, but the boy pretended

not to see this; he merely bowed, and remained standing. His face had

become pale, but his eyes shone brightly, and from his whole

appearance—the proud way he held up his head and his compressed

lips—it could readily be seen that something was uppermost in his mind,

that he was no longer undecided and frightened, but that he had made a

firm resolution, which nothing in the world could tempt him to break.

The Greek seemed to comprehend the situation, for his face wore a very

anxious expression. The Mahdi took in both children at a quick glance,

and his fat face lighted up with its customary smile; then turning to

Idris and to Gebhr, he asked:

“You have come from the far north?”

Idris touched the floor with his forehead.

“It is so, oh Madhi! We belong to the Dangali tribe, and therefore we

have left our homes in Fayoum in order to come and kneel down before

your blessed feet.”

“I saw you in the desert. It is a terrible road, but I sent an angel,

who watched over you and protected you from death at the hands of

unbelievers. You did not see him, but he was there watching over you.”

“We thank thee, saviour.”

“And so you have brought the children for Smain, to enable him to

exchange them for his own offspring, whom the Turks are detaining

together with Fatima in Port Said.”

“You only will we serve!”

“He who serves me works out his own salvation, and thereby you open the

way to Paradise for yourselves. Fatima is my relative. But let me tell

you that when I conquer the whole of Egypt, then my relatives and their

successors will obtain their freedom.”

“Then, oh blessed one, do what you wish with the children!”

The Mahdi half closed his eyelids, opened them again, smiled

good-naturedly, and beckoned to Stasch.

“Come nearer, boy!”

Stasch advanced with an energetic, soldier-like step, bowed for the

second time, then straightened up stiff as the string of a bow and

waited, looking directly into the eyes of the Mahdi.

“Peace be with you! Are you pleased to come to us?”

“No, prophet! We were carried away from our fathers against our wills.”

This frank answer created a sensation not only for the ruler, who was

accustomed to being flattered, but on the others present as well. Calif

Abdullah frowned, the Greek bit his lips and began to twist his fingers;

but the Mahdi never ceased smiling.

“But,” he said, “on the other hand, you are now at the fountain of

truth. Will you drink at this source?”

A short silence ensued, and the Mahdi, thinking that the boy had not

understood the question, repeated it more plainly.

“Will you accept my teaching?”

Whereupon Stasch, with the hand that he held to his breast, without

attracting attention, managed to make the sign of the cross, just as

though he were going to spring from a sinking ship into deep water.

“Prophet,” he said, “I am not familiar with your teaching, so if I were

to accept it I should do so only from fear, like cowards and base

persons, and do you wish cowards and base persons to accept your faith?”

While he was speaking he continued to look the Mahdi unflinchingly in

the eye. The silence that ensued was so great that the buzzing of the

bees could be heard. Besides this, something very unusual happened. The

Mahdi was embarrassed for a moment and could not think what reply to

make. Stretching out his hand, he grasped a bottle-gourd filled with

water and honey and began to drink, but evidently only to gain time and

to hide his embarrassment.

[Illustration: “The brave boy, a true descendant of the defenders of

Christianity, stood with his head erect awaiting his sentence.” ]

And the brave boy, a true descendant of the defenders of Christianity,

stood with his head erect awaiting his sentence. On his sunken cheek,

tanned by the desert wind, there was now a tinge of pink, his eyes shone

brightly, and a thrill of exaltation passed through his delicate body.

“Every one,” he thought, “has accepted his teaching, but I have neither

renounced my Faith nor sacrificed my soul.” And the fear of what might

happen and would happen remained buried in his breast, and he was filled

with joy and pride. Then the Mahdi, putting down the bottle-gourd,

asked:

“So you refuse to accept my teaching?”

“I am what my father is—a Christian!”

“Whosoever closes his ears to the heavenly voice,” said the Mahdi

slowly, and in a changed tone of voice, “is nothing more than wood, to

be cast into the fire.”

Calif Abdullah, who was known for his severity and cruelty, showed his

white teeth like a wild animal and said:

“This boy’s answers are rude; therefore, sir, punish him, or permit me

to do so.”

“All is over,” thought Stasch to himself.

But the Mahdi, who was always desirous that the fame of his mercy might

spread not only among the Dervishes, but throughout the whole world,

thought that too severe a sentence, especially against a small boy,

might be bad for his reputation. For a while he passed the glass beads

of the rosary between his fingers, and then said:

“No; these children were carried off on Smain’s account; therefore,

though I have nothing to do with unbelievers, they must be sent to

Smain. This is my wish!”

“It shall be done,” answered the Calif.

Then the Mahdi pointed to Idris, Gebhr, and the Bedouins.

“These people, O Abdullah, you must reward in my name, for they have

completed a long and dangerous journey in order to serve God and

myself.”

Then he nodded as a sign that the audience was at an end, and in like

manner he ordered the Greek to leave him. When the latter reached the

place of prayer, which was now dark, he took hold of Stasch by the arm

and vented his rage and despair by shaking him.

“Cursed one! You have endangered the life of this innocent child,” he

said, pointing to Nell. “You have ruined yourself and perhaps Nell,

too.”

“I could not act otherwise,” answered Stasch.

“You could not! Remember that you are about to take a second journey,

which will be a hundred times worse than the first. It means death— Do

you understand? In Fashoda the fever will be the end of you in a week’s

time. The Mahdi knows why he is sending you to Smain.”

“We might also have died had we remained in Omdurman.”

“That is not so! If you had lived in the Mahdi’s house, in prosperity

and in comfort, you would not have died. And he was prepared to take you

under his wing. I know that he intended to do so. But you have shown how

ungrateful you are to me for having interested myself in you! Now you

can do what you please! In a week Abdullah will send the camel-post to

Fashoda, and during this week you can do what you please! You will never

see me again.”

With these words he went away, but soon returned. He was talkative, as

all Greeks are, and felt the necessity of giving vent to his opinions.

He was thoroughly angry, and wanted to fire his rage at Stasch’s head.

He was not cruel, nor had he a bad heart, but he wanted the boy to

realize the terrible responsibility he had incurred by not profiting by

his warning and advice.

“Who would have prevented you from being a Christian at heart?” he said.

“Do you think I am not a Christian? But I am no fool. You have preferred

to make a display of false courage. Up to this time I have been able to

be of great service to the white prisoners, but henceforth I can not do

anything for them, because the Mahdi is angry with me, too. They all

will perish! And your little companion in suffering will surely die! You

have killed her! In Fashoda even grown people succumb like flies to the

fever, and how can such a child escape? When you are forced to walk

alongside of the horses and camels, she will die the very first day. And

you will be to blame for it. You ought to be happy now, you

Christian!——”

He walked away, and they turned off from the place of prayer and went

through narrow, dark lanes toward the tents. They walked a long time,

for the town was very large. Nell, who was greatly overcome by fatigue,

hunger, fear, and the terrible sensations she had experienced all day,

stopped to rest; but Idris and Gebhr pushed her ahead faster. After a

while, however, her feet absolutely refused to move a step farther. Then

Stasch, without thinking much about it, picked her up in his arms and

carried her. On the way he wanted to speak to her, wanted to justify

himself by telling her that he could not have acted otherwise than he

had, but his mind was a blank and he could only repeat over and over

again: “Nell! Nell! Nell!” and pressed her to him, unable to say another

word. After they had gone a short distance Nell was so tired that she

fell asleep in his arms, and so he walked silently through the quiet of

the sleepy little streets, that were disturbed only by the conversation

of Idris and Gebhr.

Their hearts were happy, which was lucky for Stasch, for otherwise they

might have wanted to punish him again for having answered the Mahdi so

rudely. But they were so absorbed with what had happened to them that

they were quite unable to think of anything else.

“I felt ill,” said Idris, “but the sight of the prophet made me well

again.”

“He is like a palm in the desert and cold water on a warm day, and his

words are like ripe dates,” answered Gebhr.

“Nur-el-Tadhil lied when he told us that the Mahdi would not admit us to

his presence. He did admit us, and he blessed us, and told Abdullah to

reward us.”

“He will certainly reward us well, for the will of the Mahdi is sacred.”

“Bismillah! May it be as you say,” said one of the Bedouins.

And Gebhr began to dream of innumerable camels, horned cattle, horses,

and sacks filled with piasters. Idris awakened him from his dreams by

pointing to Stasch, who was carrying the sleeping Nell, and asked:

“And what are we to do with that wasp and this fly?”

“Ha! Smain must give us an extra reward for them.”

“I am sorry they did not fall into the hands of the Calif, who would

have taught this young dog what it means to bark at the truth and the

chosen one of God.”

“The Mahdi is merciful,” answered Idris, and then after a while he

continued:

“Still, it is certain that if Smain has them both in his hands, neither

the Turks nor the English will kill his children and Fatima.”

“Then perhaps he will reward us?”

“Yes. So Abdullah’s post is to take them to Fashoda, and a heavy load

will be off our shoulders. And when Smain returns here we will demand a

reward from him.”

“So you think we should remain in Omdurman?”

“Allah! Have you not had enough traveling in that journey from Fayoum to

Khartum? It is quite time to take a rest!”

The tents were now close by, but Stasch walked more slowly, for his

strength was becoming exhausted. Even though Nell was light, he felt her

weight more and more. The Sudanese, who were impatient to lie down and

sleep, shouted at him to hurry up, and at last they pushed him along by

striking him on the head with their fists.

The boy bore everything in silence, his one thought being always to

protect his little sister, and it was only when one of the Bedouins gave

him a blow that nearly knocked him down that he said through his

clenched teeth:

“We shall reach Fashoda alive!”

This kept the Arabs from doing further violence, for they were afraid to

disobey the commands of the prophet. But they were even more affected by

the fact that Idris was suddenly seized with such a severe attack of

dizziness that he had to lean on Gebhr’s arm, and although the pain

ceased after a while, the Sudanese became alarmed and said:

“Allah! Something must be the matter with me! Have I been seized with

some illness?”

“You have seen the Mahdi, and therefore you will not be ill,” answered

Gebhr.

They finally reached the barracks, and summoning all his strength,

Stasch put the sleeping Nell in the care of old Dinah, who, though

indisposed herself, nevertheless prepared a very comfortable

resting-place for her little lady. After the Sudanese and the Bedouins

had swallowed a piece of raw meat, they threw themselves down as heavy

as logs on the cloth rugs. Stasch was given nothing to eat, but Dinah

pushed a handful of soaked maize toward him, a small quantity of which

she had stolen from the camels. But he was neither sleepy nor hungry.

The burden that rested on his shoulders was really more than heavy. He

felt that he had done right, and even if he forfeited the good will of

the Mahdi, which one could purchase by denying one’s faith, he knew his

father would be very proud of his decision, and that it would make him

very happy, but at the same time he thought that he had endangered the

life of Nell, his companion in misfortune and his beloved sister, for

whom he would willingly have given the last drop of his blood.

And so when every one was asleep he sobbed as if his heart would break,

and lay on the piece of cloth rug weeping for a long time like a child,

which, after all, he still was.

CHAPTER XVI

The visit to the Mahdi and his talk with him had evidently not brought

health to Idris, for during that very night he fell seriously ill, and

in the morning became unconscious. Chamis, Gebhr, and the Bedouins were

sent for to appear before the calif, who detained them several hours and

praised them for their courage. But they returned in a very bad temper

and were exceedingly angry, for they had expected heaven knows what kind

of reward, and now Abdullah had awarded them only an Egyptian pound[13]

and a horse. The Bedouins began to quarrel with Gebhr, and they nearly

came to blows, but finally decided that they would ride along to Fashoda

with the camel-post, so as to demand payment from Smain. Chamis, in the

hope that Smain’s protection would be more advantageous to him than

staying in Omdurman, accompanied them.

And then there began a week of hunger and privation for the children,

for Gebhr never even thought of supplying them with food. Happily Stasch

still had two Maria Theresa thalers,[14] that he had received from the

Greek, and so he went to the town to buy dates and rice. The Sudanese

had nothing to say against this, for they knew that he could not escape

from Omdurman, and that he would on no account leave the little “Biut.”

But the walk was not without incident, for the sight of the boy in

European clothing buying provisions in the market-place attracted a

crowd of half-savage Dervishes, who greeted him with laughter and howls.

Luckily many of them had seen him the day before when he was with the

Mahdi, and so they restrained the others, who wanted to attack him. The

children, however, threw stones and sand at him, but he paid no

attention to them.

Prices in the market were exceedingly high, so he could not get dates,

and Gebhr took most of the rice away to give to his sick brother. The

boy resisted this with all his strength, which resulted in a scuffle,

from which naturally the weaker one emerged bumped and bruised. Chamis’

cruelty now first became evident. He only showed an attachment to Saba,

and fed him with raw meat, but he viewed with the greatest indifference

the needs of the children, whom he had known for some time, and who had

always been kind to him; and when Stasch turned to him, begging him to

give Nell something to eat, he answered laughingly:

“Go and beg.”

Finally things came to such a pass the next day that Stasch really had

to beg to save Nell from suffering from hunger. His efforts were not

altogether futile. Many times a former soldier, an officer of the

Khedive of Egypt, gave him a few piasters or a handful of dried figs,

and told him he would help him the following day. Once he met a

missionary and a Sister of Charity, who wept on hearing the tale of the

children’s fate, and although they themselves were exhausted from

hunger, they shared what they had with him. They also promised to visit

them in the barracks, and the following day actually came, in the hope

that they might succeed in being permitted to take the children along

with them until the departure of the post. But Gebhr and Chamis drove

them away with scourges.

On the following day Stasch met them again, and they gave him a little

rice and two small quinine powders, of which the missionary told him to

be especially careful, in case they should get the fever in Fashoda.

“You are now going,” he said, “to ride along the banks of the White

Nile, which has overflowed, or straight through the so-called Suddis. As

the river can not flow freely on account of the obstacles in its path,

the plants and leaves which the current carries along pile up in the

shallow places, where they form large, infectious puddles. There the

fever does not spare even the negroes. Take special care not to sleep on

the bare ground at night without a fire.”

“Would we had died!” Stasch answered, half sighing.

Now the missionary, raising his wan face toward heaven, prayed a while,

and making the sign of the cross on the boy, said:

“Put your faith in God! You have not denied Him, and His mercy and

protection will be over you.”

Stasch not only attempted to beg, but also tried to get work. One day

when he saw crowds working in the place of prayer, he went over to them

and began to carry clay to the wall which was being built around the

place. It is true that he was laughed at and pushed about, but in the

evening the old sheik, the overseer, gave him twelve dates. Stasch was

very much pleased with this reward, for after rice dates were the only

food that was good for Nell, and it was becoming more and more difficult

to find them in Omdurman.

So he proudly presented the dozen dates to his little sister, to whom he

brought everything he could find. During the last few days he had lived

mostly on maize that he had stolen from the camels. Nell was delighted

when she saw her favorite fruit, but she wanted Stasch to share them

with her. Standing on tip-toe, she put her arms around his neck, and

raising her little head, looked in his eyes and begged:

“Stasch! Eat half of them! Eat them!”

But he answered:

“I have already eaten. I have already eaten. Oh, I have had a great

plenty!”

He smiled, but soon after bit his lips to prevent bursting into tears,

for he was really all but starved. He resolved to go out the next day in

search of work. But things happened that changed his plans. Early in the

morning a messenger came by order of Abdullah to announce that the

camel-post would depart for Fashoda during the night, and he brought an

order from the calif stating that Idris, Gebhr, Chamis, and the two

Bedouins should have themselves and the children in readiness for the

journey. This order astonished and annoyed Gebhr, and he declared that

he would not ride because his brother was ill, and there was no one to

take care of him, and that even if he were well they had decided to

remain in Omdurman.

But the messenger answered:

“The Mahdi never changes his mind, and Abdullah, his calif and my

master, never changes his orders. A slave can take care of your brother,

but you will ride with the others to Fashoda.”

“Then I will go to the calif and tell him that I will not ride.”

“Only those gain admittance to the calif whom he wishes to see, and if

you try to force your way in without permission you will be led out to

the gallows.”

“Allah Akbar! Then tell me plainly that I am a slave.”

“Be quiet and obey orders!” answered the messenger.

The Sudanese had seen the gallows in Omdurman almost broken down from

the weight of those hanged on them, and that after the cruel Abdullah

had pronounced sentence new bodies were strung up daily, so he was

afraid. What the messenger had told him about the Mahdi never changing

his mind and Abdullah never changing his orders was confirmed by all the

Dervishes. Therefore there was no way of escape, and they would have to

ride.

“I shall never see Idris again,” thought Gebhr. In his tiger-like heart

there was still a feeling of affection for his elder brother, and the

thought of leaving him behind ill filled him with despair. It was in

vain that Chamis and the Bedouins explained to him that perhaps they

would be better off in Fashoda than in Omdurman, and that Smain would

probably not give them any larger reward than the calif had done. But

nothing they could say was able to dispel Gebhr’s sadness or appease his

anger, which of course he vented chiefly on Stasch.

For the boy this was a day of real martyrdom. He was not allowed to go

to the market-place, and so he could neither earn nor beg anything, and

he was made to work like a slave at the baggage, which was being made

ready for the journey, and this was all the more difficult because he

was very weak from hunger and fatigue. He was just about ready to die on

the way, either from Gebhr’s scourge or from exhaustion.

Fortunately, toward evening the Greek appeared. As we have already said,

he had a good heart, and notwithstanding all that had taken place, he

came to see the children, to take leave of them, and to give them the

most necessary things for the journey. He brought them several little

quinine powders and some glass beads and provisions. On hearing that

Idris was ill, he turned towards Gebhr, Chamis, and the Bedouins and

said:

“I have come by order of the Mahdi.”

When they bowed low on hearing these words, he continued:

“You are to supply the children with food on the way and are to treat

them well. They are to tell Smain how you have treated them, and Smain

will report it to the prophet. If there be any complaint about you, the

following post will bring you your death warrant.”

A second bow was the only answer to these words, whereupon Gebhr and

Chamis made faces like dogs that are being muzzled.

The Greek told them to go away; then he added in English as he turned

toward the children:

“I invented all this, for the Mahdi gave no further orders concerning

you. But as he said that you were to ride to Fashoda, you must naturally

reach there alive. Besides, I calculate that none of these people will

see the Mahdi or the calif before they start on this journey.”

Then he turned to Stasch and continued:

“Boy, I had a grudge against you, and I still have it. Do you know that

you nearly caused my ruin? The Mahdi was angry with me, and to appease

him I had to give up a considerable part of my fortune to Abdullah, and

I am not quite sure yet whether I am safe for only a while or for

always. At any rate, hereafter I shall not be able to assist the

prisoners as I have done. But I am sorry for you, and especially for

this girl here. I have a daughter about her age, whom I love more than

my own life. All that I have done I did on her account. Christ will bear

me witness to that. She still wears a silver cross under her dress, next

her heart. Her name is the same as yours, my little one. If it were not

for her I should prefer to die rather than to live in this hell.”

He was overcome by emotion, and remained silent for a while, then he

passed his hand over his forehead and began to talk of something else.

“The Mahdi is sending you to Fashoda, secretly hoping that you will die

there. This is his means of taking revenge on you—especially on account

of your resistance, boy, which wounded him deeply—without endangering

his name, ‘the merciful one.’ He is always like that. But who can tell

which will die first! Abdullah suggested the idea of ordering these

dogs, who carried you off, to ride along with you. He rewarded them very

meagerly, and is afraid this may become known. Besides, he and the

prophet do not want these people to spread the news that there are still

soldiers, cannon, money, and the English in Egypt. But it will be a hard

journey and a long one. You will pass through a desolate and unhealthy

land, and these powders will protect you.”

“Sir, tell Gebhr once more not to dare let Nell starve nor to beat her,”

begged Stasch.

“Fear nothing. I have spoken about you to the old sheik who drives the

post. He is an old acquaintance of mine, and I have given him a watch,

and this insured his protection for you.”

With these words he prepared to leave them. Taking Nell in his arms, he

pressed her to his heart and whispered:

“God bless you, my child!”

Meanwhile the sun had gone down and it was starlight. Through the

darkness could be heard the neighing of the horses and the panting of

the heavily laden camels.

-----

Footnote 13:

About four dollars and seventy-five cents.

Footnote 14:

About two dollars.

CHAPTER XVII

The old sheik, Hatim, faithfully kept the promise he had made to the

Greek, and carefully protected the children. The road to the upper White

Nile was a difficult one. They rode through Getena, El-Dueim, and Kawa;

then they passed Abba, a wooded island in the Nile, on which, before the

Mahdi’s war, a Dervish had lived in a hollow tree the life of a hermit.

The caravan had to go around wide tracts of land covered with papyrus

and swamps called “Suddis,” from which the wind blew a stench caused by

rotted and decaying leaves that had accumulated around obstructions in

the river. The English engineers had once removed these obstructions,

and at one time steamers could go from Khartum to Fashoda, and even

farther up.[15] But now the river was clogged up again, and as it could

not flow freely, it overflowed both banks. The districts on the right

and left banks were covered with a high jungle, from the midst of which

heaps of ant-hills and isolated giant trees towered. In some places the

woods extended to the stream. In dry places grew large groves of

acacias.

During the first few weeks they still passed Arab settlements and small

towns, consisting of houses with peculiar, ball-shaped roofs of straw,

but on the other side of Abba, behind the settlement Gos-Abu-Guma, when

they came to the land of the blacks, they found it quite deserted, for

the Dervishes had carried off nearly all the natives and sold them in

the slave-markets of Khartum, Omdurman, and other places. Those who

escaped capture by hiding in the thickets and in the woods died of

hunger and smallpox, which was unusually prevalent along the White and

Blue Nile. The Dervishes themselves said that “entire nations” had died

of it. Places that were formerly sorghum and banana plantations were now

covered with jungle. Only wild animals multiplied, because there was no

one to hunt them. Sometimes about sunset the children saw in the

distance herds of elephants, that looked like moving rocks, slowly

walking to their watering-place. As soon as Hatim, who was formerly an

ivory-trader, caught sight of them he smacked his lips, sighed, and said

confidentially to Stasch:

“Maschallah! How valuable they are! But they are not worth while hunting

now, for the Mahdi has forbidden the Egyptian merchants to come to

Khartum; so there is no one except the emirs to buy elephant tusks.”

Besides seeing elephants, they also came across giraffes, which ran off,

treading heavily and swaying their long necks, as though they were lame.

Behind Gos-Abu-Guma buffaloes and herds of antelope appeared more

frequently. When the caravan was short of meat the men hunted them, but

nearly always without success, for these animals are too watchful and

fleet to be outwitted or cornered.

Usually the food was meted out somewhat sparingly, for in consequence of

the land having been depopulated, one could not buy millet, bananas or

fish, which the negroes of the Schilluk and the Dinka tribes used to

sell to caravans in exchange for glass beads and copper wire.

Hatim saw that the children did not starve, though he kept Gebhr on

short rations, and once, when they had halted for the night and were

taking the saddles off the camels, Gebhr struck Stasch, and Hatim

ordered him to be laid on the ground, and gave him thirty blows with a

bamboo rod on the sole of each foot. For two days the cruel Sudanese

could only walk on his toes, and he revenged himself on a young slave

named Kali who had been given him.

At first Stasch felt almost glad that they had left the infected

Omdurman and that he was now passing through countries which he had

always longed to see. His strong constitution had, up to this time,

withstood the fatigue of the journey quite well, and having plenty to

eat, he regained his lost energy. On the march, and also during the

halts for rest, he would again whisper to his little sister that it was

possible to escape by way of the White Nile, and that he had by no means

given up this idea. But he was worried about her health. Three weeks had

now passed since they had left Omdurman. Nell had not been stricken with

the fever as yet, but her face had become thin, and instead of getting

tanned it had become more and more transparent, and her little hands had

a waxen look. Stasch and Dinah, with the assistance of Hatim, saw that

she was well cared for and that she had every comfort, but she missed

the health-giving desert air. The damp, hot climate, together with the

fatigue of the journey, sapped still more the strength of the delicate

child.

When they reached Gos-Abu-Guma Stasch began giving her half a small

quinine powder daily, and he was greatly troubled when he thought that

he had not enough of this medicine to last very long and that he would

not be able to get any more. But there was no help for it, because it

was most necessary to take precautions against the fever. At times he

would have yielded to fear and despair had it not been for the hope that

Smain, if he wanted to exchange them for his own children, would have to

find a more healthy place than Fashoda for them to live in.

But misfortune seemed to follow its victims continually. The day before

they arrived in Fashoda, Dinah, who felt weak when they were in

Omdurman, suddenly fainted and fell off the camel while opening Nell’s

traveling bag, which they had brought with them from Fayoum. It was only

with the greatest difficulty that Chamis and Stasch resuscitated her.

But she did not regain consciousness until toward evening, and then only

long enough to bid a tearful good-by to her beloved little lady and die.

Gebhr wanted very much to cut the ears off the remains, so that he could

show them to Smain as a proof that she had died on the way. That was

what was done to slaves who died on a journey. But at the request of

Stasch and Nell, Hatim did not allow this, and she was buried with

honor, and stones and thorns were piled on her grave to protect it from

hyenas. The children now felt even more lonely, for in losing her they

had lost the only soul who stood near to them and who was devoted to

them. To Nell especially it was a cruel blow, and during the night and

the following day Stasch tried in vain to comfort her.

The sixth week of the journey had begun. On the following day, toward

noon, the caravan reached Fashoda, but found it in ruins. The Mahdists

bivouacked in the open air or in huts which had been hastily built of

grass and branches. The settlement had been completely destroyed by fire

three days before. Nothing remained but the smoke-blackened walls of the

round clay huts and a wooden shed at the water’s edge, which during the

time of the Egyptian rule had been used as a storehouse for ivory, and

in which at the present time lived the leader of the Dervishes, the

emir, Seki Tamala. He was a man who was respected by the Mahdists, a

secret enemy of Calif Abdullah, but, on the other hand, a personal

friend of Hatim. The emir was most hospitable to the old sheik and the

children, but at the very beginning he told them an unwelcome piece of

news.

Smain was no longer in Fashoda. Two days before he had started on an

expedition after slaves in the district lying southeast of the Nile, and

no one knew when he would return, for the next settlement had been

deserted, so that it was necessary to seek merchandise in human beings

at a great distance. It is true that not very far from Fashoda lies

Abyssinia, with which country the Dervishes were at war. But Smain, who

had only three hundred men, did not dare cross the borders, which were

strictly guarded by the warlike inhabitants of the land and by the

soldiers of King John.

Under these circumstances Seki Tamala and Hatim had to decide what was

to be done with the children. The consultation was carried on chiefly

during supper, to which the emir had also invited Stasch and Nell.

“I,” said he to Hatim, “with all my men must soon undertake a long

expedition to the south, against Emin Pasha, who is in Lado, where he

has steamers and soldiers. Hatim, you brought me the order to go. You

must return to Omdurman, and then not a human being will be left in

Fashoda. There are no comfortable houses here and nothing to eat, and

besides, it is a very unhealthy place. I know that white people do not

take smallpox, but the fever would kill these children in a month’s

time.”

“I received orders to bring them to Fashoda,” answered Hatim, “and I

have brought them here, and I do not really need to trouble myself

further about them. But my friend, the Greek Kaliopuli, commended them

to me, and for that reason I should not like them to die.”

“But that is what will certainly happen!”

“Then what is to be done?”

“Instead of leaving them behind in Fashoda, where there is not a human

being, send them to Smain with the people who brought them to Omdurman.

Smain has gone off toward the mountains, to a dry and high district,

where the fever is not so fatal as here by the river.”

“But how will they find Smain?”

“By following the track of the fires. He will set fire to the jungle, in

the first place, so as to drive the game into the ravines, where it can

be easily hunted down, and secondly, to frighten away the heathen from

the thickets, where they have fled from their pursuers——and so it will

not be difficult to find Smain.”

“But will they be able to overtake him?”

“He will sometimes remain a whole week in a place, as he has to smoke

meat. But even if he should go on after two or three days, they will

certainly overtake him.”

“But why should they run after him? He will return to Fashoda.”

“No; if he should be successful in his hunt for slaves he will take them

to the towns to the market——”

“Then what is to be done?”

“Remember that when we two leave Fashoda, if the children remain here

they will either succumb to the fever or starve to death.”

“By the prophet, that is true!”

So there was nothing else to do but send the children on a new

expedition. Hatim, who had proved himself a good man, was especially

worried, fearing that Gebhr—whose cruelty he had discovered during the

journey—would wreak his vengeance on them. But the terrible Seki

Tamala, of whom even his own soldiers stood in dread, ordered the

Sudanese to come before him, and told him that he must deliver the

children alive and well to Smain, and treat them well, for if he did not

he would be hanged. Besides that, the good Hatim begged the emir to give

little Nell a slave to wait on her and to nurse her during the journey

and in Smain’s camp. Nell was greatly pleased with this gift, especially

when she found that the slave was a young girl of the Dinka tribe, with

pleasant features and a sweet expression.

Stasch knew that to remain in Fashoda meant death, so he did not beg

Hatim not to send them on another journey—their third. Besides, in the

depths of his soul he thought that when riding toward the southeast they

would have to approach the borders of Abyssinia, and might be able to

escape. Moreover, he cherished the hope that on those dry heights Nell

might escape the fever. For all these reasons he gladly and

enthusiastically began making preparations for the journey.

Gebhr, Chamis and the two Bedouins also had nothing to say against the

expedition, for they, too, reckoned that at Smain’s side they might be

able to capture larger numbers of slaves and that they could then sell

them to advantage at the markets. They knew that slave-traders sometimes

attain great wealth; at any rate, they preferred to ride instead of

remaining where they were under Hatim’s and Seki Tamala’s strict rule.

But the preparations for departure took considerable time, especially

because the children had to rest. Camels could not be used for this

journey, and so the Arabs and also Stasch and Nell were to ride on

horses, while Kali, Gebhr’s slave, and Nell’s servant, who was called

“Mea,” at Stasch’s suggestion were to go on foot. Hatim also supplied a

donkey, which carried a tent intended for the girl, and also enough

provisions to last the children three days. Seki Tamala could give them

no more. A kind of ladies’ saddle was constructed for Nell out of palm

and bamboo mats.

The children spent three days in Fashoda recovering from their journey,

but the numerous swarms of gnats by the river made a further stay

impossible. During the day there were a great many large blue flies,

which, although they did not bite, were very troublesome because they

got into one’s ears, eyes, and mouth. Stasch had once heard in Port Said

that gnats and flies spread fever and the germs of an eye disease, so at

last he besought Seki Tamala to let them start as soon as possible,

especially as the spring rainy season was about to begin.

-----

Footnote 15:

After the collapse of the kingdom of the Dervishes communication was

again resumed.

CHAPTER XVIII

“Stasch, why do we always ride without finding Smain?”

“I don’t know. Most likely he is traveling rapidly so as to lose no time

in reaching the districts where he can capture the most slaves. Would

you be glad if we could really join his division?”

The girl nodded her little blonde head as a sign that she was most

willing.

“Why would you like it?” asked Stasch, surprised.

“Because in the presence of Smain perhaps Gebhr would not dare beat this

poor Kali so terribly.”

“Probably Smain is no better. None of them has any mercy for their

slaves.”

“Yes, you are right.”

And tears flowed down her wan cheeks. This was the ninth day of the

journey. Gebhr, who was now the leader of the caravan, at first found a

few traces of Smain’s march. Stretches of burned jungle and places where

he had camped, crunched bones, and various discarded material marked his

route.

Five days later they came to a wide steppe, where the wind had carried

the fire in every direction. The traces were indistinct and confusing,

for Smain had apparently divided his company into several small groups

in order to facilitate cornering the game and obtaining provisions.

Gebhr did not know which direction to take, and it often seemed as if

the caravan had traveled around in a circle, returning to the same place

from which it started. Then they came upon woods, and after having

traveled through them, they entered a rocky country, where the ground

was covered with flat slabs or small level stones, that for some

distance were strewn so thickly that they reminded the children of the

roads in town. The vegetation was scanty. Only here and there, in the

clefts of the rocks, grew euphorbias, mimosas, and rarer and slimmer

pale green trees, which Kali, in the Ki-swahili language, called “m’ti.”

The horses were fed with the leaves of these trees. In this land there

were very few small rivers and streams, but fortunately it rained now

and then, and there was sufficient water in the cavities and clefts of

the rocks.

Smain’s party had frightened off the game, and the caravan would have

died of hunger had it not been for a number of Pentaren birds that flew

into the air every second from between the horses’ feet. Toward evening

the trees were so full of them that one had only to shoot in their

direction to bring some of them down, and they served for food. Besides,

they were not shy, for they let people approach them, and were so clumsy

and heavy in preparing for flight that Saba, who generally ran in

advance of the caravan, caught and killed some of them nearly every day.

Chamis killed a number of these birds with his old flintlock musket that

he had stolen from one of the Dervishes under Hatim, on the road from

Omdurman to Fashoda. But he only had enough shot for twenty cartridges,

and he felt very much worried when he thought of what would happen when

they were used up. Notwithstanding the game had been frightened away,

they occasionally saw herds of gazels, a beautiful species of antelope

which is found all over central Africa. These animals, however, could

only be shot, and the men did not know how to use Stasch’s gun, and

Gebhr would not give it to him.

But the Sudanese also began to be worried about the length of time they

were on the way. Sometimes he even thought of returning to Fashoda, for

if they were to miss Smain they might get lost in the wilderness and not

only suffer from hunger, but be in danger of attack by wild animals and

still wilder negroes, who vowed vengeance on account of having been

hunted for slaves. But as he did not know that Seki Tamala had

undertaken an expedition against Emin Pasha, because he had not been

present when the conversation on that subject had taken place, he was

alarmed at the thought of appearing before the powerful emir, who had

ordered him to bring the children to Smain, and who had given him a

letter to take to him, threatening that if he did not execute his orders

faithfully he would be hanged. All this combined to fill his heart with

bitterness and rage. Though he did not dare to vent his disappointments

on Stasch and Nell, poor Kali’s back was daily covered with blood from

being beaten with the scourge. The slave always approached his cruel

master in fear and trembling. But in vain did he clasp him by the feet

and kiss his hands, and fall on his face before him. Neither humility

nor groans softened the stony heart; for on the slightest pretext, and

sometimes without any provocation at all, the scourge tore the flesh of

the unhappy boy. During the night his feet were chained to a piece of

wood with two holes in it, so that he could not run away. During the

daytime he walked alongside of Gebhr’s horse, attached to it by a rope,

which greatly amused Chamis. Nell shed tears for poor Kali. Stasch

revolted in his heart, and often valiantly championed Kali, but when he

noticed that this annoyed Gebhr still more he simply clenched his teeth

and was silent.

Kali perceived that they both sympathized with him, and he began to grow

very fond of them.

For two days they had ridden through a rocky ravine enclosed by high,

steep rocks. From the stones which had collected in the wildest

confusion it could plainly be seen that the ravine was filled with water

during the rainy season, but now the ground was quite dry. On both

sides, up against the cliffs, grew a little grass, a great many thorns,

and here and there even a few trees. Gebhr had ridden into this stony

gorge because it continually went up hill and he thought it would lead

to some height from which, by day, it would be easier to see the smoke

and by night the flames of Smain’s camp-fire. In some places the ravine

became so narrow that only two horses could walk abreast, while in

others it expanded into small circular valleys enclosed on all sides by

high stone walls, on which sat large apes, that played with one another,

and on seeing the caravan barked and showed their teeth.

It was five o’clock in the afternoon. The sun was already low in the

west. Gebhr had begun to think of their night quarters. He was hoping to

reach a small valley, in which he could erect a zareba—to surround the

caravan and the horses with a hedge of prickly mimosas and acacias, to

protect them from being attacked by wild beasts. Saba ran in advance,

barking at the monkeys, which, on seeing him, moved about restlessly,

and he disappeared time and again in the windings of the ravine, his

loud barks being repeated by the echoes.

Suddenly Saba became silent. Soon after he came up at a gallop, the hair

on his back bristling, his tail down, and ran up to the horses. The

Bedouins and Gebhr knew at once that something must have frightened him,

but after they had looked around questioningly they continued on their

way to investigate the reason. But when they had passed a small bend

they reined in their horses, and for a moment remained as if rooted to

the spot at the sight that presented itself before them.

On a large rock in the middle of the ravine, which was fairly broad at

this place, lay a lion. They could not have been more than a hundred

feet from him. As soon as the powerful animal saw the riders and horses

he rose on his hind legs and stared at them with gleaming eyes. The rays

of the setting sun shone on his enormous head and shaggy breast, and in

this red light he resembled one of those sphinxes that ornament the

entrances to the ancient Egyptian temples.

The frightened horses began to rear, turn around, and prance backward.

The astonished and terrified riders did not know what to do, and

frightened and perplexed, cried out as with one voice: “Allah!

Bismillah! Allah Akbar!”

The desert king, motionless as bronze, surveyed them from head to foot.

Gebhr and Chamis had heard from merchants who had brought ivory and

rubber from Sudan to Egypt that lions sometimes obstruct the route, and

that the only thing for a caravan to do is to make a detour around the

beast. But now they were in a place from which there was no means of

exit but to turn back and run away, and then it was almost certain that

the terrible beast would follow them.

Once more the feverish question was asked:

“What is to be done?”

“Allah! Perhaps he will back out!”

“He will not move out of the way.”

There was a dead silence. Not a sound could be heard except the snorting

of the horses and the rapid breathing of the party.

“Loose Kali from the rope,” suddenly said Chamis to Gebhr, “and we will

escape on the horses; then the lion will catch him first, and he will be

the only one slain.”

“Yes, yes, do so!” replied the Bedouins.

But Gebhr thought Kali would immediately climb up the side of the cliff,

while the lion would make a bee-line for the horses. With this in his

mind another idea, still more terrible, flashed upon him. He would kill

the slave and throw him behind him—then if the beast were to follow

them he would see the bloody body lying on the ground and stop to devour

it.

So he drew Kali by the rope nearer to his saddle, and had already raised

his knife—when Stasch caught hold of him by his wide sleeve:

“Villain, what are you doing?”

Gebhr tried to tear himself loose, and if the boy had caught hold of the

arm itself he would have been shaken off at once, but as he had hold of

the sleeve, it was not so easy, and while Gebhr tried to tear himself

loose he gesticulated and cried in a voice thick with rage:

“Dog, if that one is not sufficient, I will stab you, too. Allah! I will

stab you, stab you!”

Stasch became white as a ghost. Like a flash of lightning he thought

that if the lion should follow the horses he might in the pursuit

overlook Kali’s body, and in that case Gebhr would certainly stab them

all, one after the other.

Pulling Gebhr’s sleeve with increased energy, Stasch screamed out:

“Give me the rifle and I will kill the lion!”

The Bedouins were speechless from surprise at these words, but Chamis,

who in Port Said had seen how well Stasch could shoot, immediately cried

out:

“Give him the gun! He will kill the lion!”

Gebhr also recalled the shooting at Karoon Lake, and in face of their

terrible danger he at once ceased to make further resistance, and

hastily handed the gun to the boy, while Chamis hurriedly opened the

cartridge case, from which Stasch took out a handful.

The boy jumped off his horse, shoved the cartridges into the barrel of

the gun, and advanced. While taking his first steps forward he felt

stunned, and pictured himself and Nell with their throats cut from ear

to ear by Gebhr’s knife. But soon the imminent and terrible danger they

were in made him oblivious to everything else. A lion was before him!

When he first caught sight of the beast everything became black before

his eyes. His cheeks and nose felt icy cold, his legs grew heavy as

lead, and his breath threatened to give out. In short, he was

frightened! In Port Said he always preferred to read something else

rather than stories of lion hunts, but it is one thing to look at

pictures in a book and another thing to stand face to face with a

monster such as now looked at him in surprise while drawing up its

broad, shield-like forehead.

The Arabs were breathless, for never in their lives had they seen

anything like this. On one side a small boy, who, in contrast to the

high rock, looked still smaller, and on the other a powerful beast,

shining like gold in the rays of the sun, magnificent, threatening,

really a “Lord with a large head,” as the Sudanese call him.

Stasch’s iron will quickly controlled his trembling limbs, and he

advanced still further. It seemed to him as if his heart were in his

throat, until he put up the gun to take aim. Now was the time to have

one’s wits about one! Should he go still nearer or fire from where he

stood? Where should he aim? The shorter the distance the surer the shot!

So he went still nearer, he advanced forty steps— Still too far

off!—thirty!—twenty! The wind now brought to him the strong scent of

the wild animal——

The boy stopped.

“A ball between the eyes, or I am lost!” thought he. “In the name of the

Father and of the Son——”

The lion got up, stretched himself, and lowered his head. His mouth

began to open and his eyes to narrow. Who was this tiny being that dared

come so near? Ready to spring, he crouched on his hind legs, his paws

slightly twitching——

At this instant Stasch sighted the gun straight at the middle of the

animal’s forehead—and pulled the trigger. The shot resounded. The lion

reared—rose to his full height—fell over on his back with his four

paws in the air, and in his death agony rolled off the rock, plunging

down to the bottom of the ravine.

For a few minutes Stasch still kept him within range of the gun, but

when he saw that the twitching had ceased, and that the yellow body lay

there motionless and stiff, he opened the gun and put in another

cartridge.

The walls of the cliffs still rang out with loud echoes. Gebhr, Chamis,

and the Bedouins could not at first realize what had happened, for it

had rained during the previous night, and on account of the humidity in

the air the smoke hid everything in the narrow ravine. But when it

disappeared they shouted for joy and tried to rush up to the boy, but

their efforts were in vain, for no power on earth could force the horses

to take even one step forward.

Stasch turned, took in the four Arabs at a glance, and fixed his eyes on

Gebhr.

“Enough!” he said, clenching his teeth together. “The measure is more

than full. You shall murder neither Nell nor any one else.”

And suddenly he felt his cheeks and nose again grow cold, but this was a

different kind of cold—not caused by fright, but by a terrible, fixed

resolve, that suddenly hardened his heart like steel.

“Yes, it must be!” he said to himself. “They are all villains, hangmen,

murderers—and Nell is in their hands!”

“You shall not kill her!” he repeated.

He approached them—and drew back a pace—then suddenly raised the gun

to his shoulder.

Two shots, following in quick succession, echoed through the ravine!

Gebhr fell to the ground like a bag of sand. Chamis leaned forward in

his saddle and struck the horse’s neck with his bloody forehead.

The two Bedouins screamed with fright, and springing from their horses,

rushed at Stasch. The bend in the ravine was directly behind them, and

had they fled there, as Stasch ardently hoped, they would have been able

to escape death. But blinded by fear and rage, they thought to reach the

boy and stab him before he had time to reload. Fools! They had scarcely

gone a few steps when the trigger clicked again. The ravine rang with

the echoes of the shots and both men fell face downward to the ground,

wriggling like fish out of water.

One of them was shot in the throat and not very dangerously wounded; he

rose again and supported himself on his hands, but at the same moment

Saba buried his teeth in his neck.

Dead silence ensued.

This was interrupted by groans from Kali, who on his knees with

outstretched hands screamed in disjointed Ki-swahili sentences:

“Bwana Kubwa![16] Kill the lion! Kill the bad people! But do not kill

Kali!”

Stasch did not listen to his cries. For a while he stood there as in a

daze. Then he saw Nell’s pale little face and her frightened, wide-open,

wondering eyes. Springing toward her, he cried:

“Don’t be afraid, Nell! We are free, Nell!”

True, they were free, but free in the midst of a wild, uninhabited

solitude, lost in the heart of the black country.

-----

Footnote 16:

Great Man.

Through the Desert

* * * * *

PART II

CHAPTER I

Before Stasch and the young negro could dispose of the dead bodies of

the Arabs and the carcass of the lion the sun had nearly set, and night

was approaching. But they could not possibly pass the night near the

corpses, and although Kali, stroking his chest and stomach with his

hand, pointed to the dead lion as he smacked his lips, and repeated,

“_Msuri, nyama_” (“good, good meat”), Stasch would not permit him to

touch the “_nyama_,” but told him to catch the horses, which had run

away at the report of the guns. The black boy executed this order very

cleverly, for instead of following them into the valley—in which case

they would have continued to run further away—he climbed up the side of

the hill and so took a short cut across corners and headed off the

frightened animals. In this manner he caught two of them easily, and the

other two he drove toward Stasch.

But Gebhr’s and Chamis’ horses could not be found. Besides these there

remained four saddle-horses, not counting the mule which carried the

tent and the baggage, and which had been very calm throughout all these

tragical events. The donkey was found behind a corner quietly grazing on

the grass that grew in the bottom of the valley.

The Sudan horses are quite accustomed to the sight of wild animals,

though they are afraid of lions. Therefore it took a great deal of

persuasion to induce them to pass the rock and the pool of blood. The

horses neighed, snorted, and drew their heads back at the sight of the

bloodstained stones, but no sooner did the donkey prick up his ears and

pass by quietly than they followed. Though night had now begun to fall,

they walked on for a while, and only stopped on reaching a place where

the valley narrowed once more into a small amphitheater mostly covered

with thorns and prickly mimosa bushes.

“Sir,” said the young negro, “Kali will make a fire, a large fire.”

And he took a broad Sudanese sword which he had removed from Gebhr’s

corpse and used it to cut down the thorns and large bushes. After he

lighted the fire he continued to chop wood until he had a sufficient

amount to last through the night.

Then he and Stasch began to set up on the steep side of the valley a

small tent for Nell, which they enclosed with a broad and high prickly

hedge shaped like a half moon, or with a so-called “Zareba.”

Stasch knew from descriptions given by African travelers that they are

thus able to protect themselves against the onslaughts of wild animals.

But there was not enough room behind the hedge for the horses, and

therefore the boys removed the saddles, harnesses, and bags from the

animals, and only tied their feet, so that when searching for grass and

water they would not stray away too far.

In fact, water was to be found quite near, in a crevice of a rock which

formed a small basin under the opposite boulder. There was enough to

quench the thirst of the horses and some to spare for the following

morning in which to cook the birds Chamis had shot. And in the baggage

which the donkey carried, in addition to the tent, there were found some

corn, a little salt, and a bundle of dried manioc roots, which were

sufficient for a substantial meal. But only Kali and Mea had any

appetite. The young negro, who had been half starved by Gebhr, ate

enough for two. He was more than grateful to his new masters, and

directly after the meal he fell down on his face before Stasch and Nell,

to denote that he would remain their slave until his dying day; and he

also showed great respect for Stasch’s rifle, possibly with the correct

idea that it would be safer to obtain in advance the good will of such a

powerful weapon. Then he declared that he would take turns with Mea

watching over the “Great Man” and the “Bibi” while they slept, and that

he would also see that the fire did not go out.

Then he immediately squatted down in front of them, crossed his legs,

and hummed a little tune, in which he invariably repeated the refrain,

“_Simba kufa_, _simba kufa_,” which in the Ki-swahili language means

“The lion is dead.”

But neither the “Great Man” nor the “Small Bibi” felt sleepy, and Stasch

had to coax Nell before he could induce her to taste a little of the

bird and a few grains of the boiled corn. She said she could neither eat

nor sleep, and that she only wanted a drink. Stasch was afraid she was

getting the fever, but he was soon convinced to the contrary, as even

her hands were cold. He was eventually able to induce her to go into the

tent, where he had arranged a place for her to lie down, after having at

first carefully looked to see if there were any scorpions in the grass.

As for him, he sat down on a stone with his rifle on his arm, to guard

her from an onslaught of wild animals, in case the fire should prove

insufficient protection. He was overcome by fatigue and greatly

exhausted, and repeated to himself over and over again, “I have killed

Gebhr and Chamis and the Bedouins; I have killed a lion and we are

free.” But he felt as though some one else were whispering these words

to him and that he could not comprehend their meaning. He only knew that

they were free, and at the same time something terrible had happened,

which filled him with uneasiness and pressed like a heavy weight on his

chest. At last his thoughts became indistinct. For a while he gazed at

the moth which hovered over the flame, and at last he began to nod and

doze. Kali, too, was napping, but awoke every now and then and threw

branches into the fire.

The night was dark, and—what is very unusual near the equator—very

quiet. Nothing could be heard but the crackling of the burning thorns

and the flickering of the flames as they lighted up the promontories of

the cliffs, which formed a half circle. The moon did not shine into the

interior of the gorge, but millions of strange stars twinkled. The air

had become so cold that Stasch awoke, sleepy and chilly, and he was

alarmed lest the cold might harm little Nell.

However, he was reassured when he remembered that he had left for her,

on the rug in the tent, the shawl which Dinah had taken away from

Fayoum. He also remembered that they had unknowingly been riding up hill

from the time they quitted the banks of the Nile, and that consequently

now, after several days of travel, they ought to be fairly high up, so

as to be beyond any danger from fever, which infested the land by the

river. The penetrating chilliness of the night seemed to substantiate

his opinion.

This thought gave him courage. He entered the tent for a moment to hear

if Nell was sleeping peacefully, then he returned, settled down nearer

the fire, and began to doze once more, and in fact soon fell fast

asleep.

Suddenly Saba, who had stretched himself out to sleep at his feet,

aroused him by growling.

Kali awoke also, and both began to look anxiously at the dog. He lay

there tense as the string of a bow, pricking up his ears, with dilated

nostrils, sniffing the air, and staring into the darkness in the

direction from which they had come. The hair on his neck and his back

stood on end, his chest expanded with his heavy breathing, and he

growled.

The young slave hurriedly threw some branches on the fire.

“Sir,” he whispered, “take your gun, take your gun.”

Stasch took up his rifle and crouched in front of the fire so that he

could get a better view of the dark bend of the gorge. Saba’s growls

changed into a short bark. For a little while there was no sound; then

from a distance Kali and Stasch heard a dull tramping, as though large

animals were running toward the fire. This tramping resounded through

the night, echoed from cliff to cliff, and increased every second.

Stasch felt that great danger was approaching. But what could it be?

Perhaps buffaloes or a couple of rhinoceroses trying to find their way

out of the gorge. In this case if the report of a shot were not

successful in frightening them and causing them to retrace their steps,

nothing could save the caravan, for these animals are just as vicious

and liable to attack one as animals of prey; and they have no fear of

fire, and destroy everything that comes in their way.

But what if it were a division of Smain’s expedition, which, after

having discovered the corpse in the gorge, was hunting for the murderer!

Stasch could not make up his mind as to which would be the better—a

quick death, or to be put in prison again. At the same time it occurred

to him that if Smain himself happened to be in this division he would

most likely spare them, but if he were not there the Dervishes would

either murder them at once or—which would be still worse—torture them

terribly before putting them to death.

“Oh,” thought he, “let us pray that they are animals and not human

beings.”

Meanwhile the tramping increased, and changed into the clatter of hoofs,

until at last out of the darkness appeared fiery eyes, dilated nostrils,

and manes disheveled from running.

“Horses!” exclaimed Kali.

These were really Gebhr’s and Chamis’ horses. They came running at a

wild gallop, obviously driven on by fright, but as they rushed into the

light and saw their captive friends they reared, neighed, pawed the

ground with their hoofs, and then for a while stood motionless.

Stasch did not remove his gun from his shoulder. He was sure that behind

the horses the disheveled head of a lion or the flat skull of a leopard

might appear at any minute. But he waited in vain. The horses gradually

quieted down, and what was more important, Saba stopped sniffing, and

stretching himself out after the manner of dogs, turned round and round

on the same spot, curled up and closed his eyes. If animals of prey had

chased the horses, it was evident that they had slowly turned back on

smelling the smoke or seeing the fire light reflected on the rocks.

“At any rate, something must have frightened them very much,” said

Stasch to Kali; “because they were not afraid to run past the corpses of

the men and lion.”

“Sir,” answered the boy, “Kali imagines what has happened. A great many

hyenas and jackals have entered the gorge to reach the corpses. The

horses have run away from them, and the hyenas did not pursue them

because they were devouring Gebhr and the others—”

“That may be, but go now and take the saddles off the horses and bring

the harnesses and the water-bags here. Do not be afraid; the gun will

protect you.”

“Kali not afraid,” said the boy, and as he pushed aside some of the

thorns that were next to the cliffs he stole out of the hedge, and at

the same time Nell stepped out of the tent.

Saba arose at once, sniffed at her, and expected the customary caress.

At first she stretched out her hand, but drew it back immediately,

thoroughly disgusted. “Stasch, what has happened?” said she.

“Nothing; those two horses came running up here. Did their tramping

awaken you?”

“I was awake before, and was just going to leave the tent, but——”

“But what?”

“I thought you would be angry.”

“I! Angry with you?”

Nell raised her eyes and gazed at him with a very peculiar expression,

an expression he had never seen before. Over Stasch’s face then passed a

look of surprise, for from her words and looks he saw that she was

terrified.

“She is afraid of me,” thought he.

And for a moment he even felt quite satisfied. Then he thought that

after all he had accomplished even Nell—who did not think of him merely

as a full-grown man, but also as a terrible warrior, who inspires every

one with fear—should look up at him and caress him. But this feeling of

elation did not last long, for his sad experience had taught him to

observe closely, and so he noticed that the girl’s restless eyes denoted

not only fear, but a certain repugnance because of what had occurred, in

consequence of the blood that had been shed and the horrors that she had

witnessed this very day.

He also immediately remembered that a moment ago she had withdrawn her

hand so as to avoid stroking Saba, for he it was who had killed one of

the Bedouins. Yes, that was the reason, and did not Stasch himself feel

it pressing like a nightmare on his chest. It was one thing to read at

Port Said about the American trappers who killed the red-skinned Indians

by the dozens in the Wild West, and another thing to do likewise one’s

self, and to see men who were alive a short time before expiring in

their last bloody agony. “Yes, certainly Nell is very much terrified,

and she will always continue to have that feeling of repugnance. I am

sure that she will fear me,” thought Stasch; “but in her heart of hearts

she will unconsciously never forget to think ill of what I have

done—and that is to be my reward for all I have done for her.”

His heart was bowed down by these thoughts, because he knew very well

that if it were not for Nell he would have been killed or have fled long

ago. Therefore it was for her sake that he had suffered so much hunger

and pain, which only resulted in her standing there frightened, changed,

entirely different from the little sister she was before, and who now

raised her eyes to his with the old confiding look gone, and in its

stead an expression of intense fear. Stasch suddenly felt very unhappy.

For the first time in his life he realized what it was to be moved;

unconsciously the tears started to his eyes, and if it had not been for

the fact that it was not at all the proper thing for a fierce warrior to

weep, he would most likely have done so, but he controlled himself,

turned to the girl, and asked:

“Nell, are you afraid?”

And she answered softly:

“It is really—so terrible!”

Then Stasch told Kali to bring the rugs that lay under the saddles, and

after placing one of them over the stones on which he had dozed before,

he stretched out the second one on the ground and said:

“Sit down here by me near the fire; the night is cold, isn’t it? If you

are very sleepy, rest your little head on me and go to sleep.”

And Nell could only answer:

“It is really too dreadful.”

Stasch wrapped her up tenderly and carefully in the shawl, and then they

sat there silently for a while, leaning against each other, and

illuminated by the ruddy firelight, which flickered on the rocks and

shone on the mica scales that studded the slope of the cliff.

From the other side of the hedge the neighing of the horses could be

heard, and now and again the sound of munching, as they chewed the grass

between their teeth.

“Listen, Nell,” began Stasch; “I was obliged to do what I did. If the

lion had not been satisfied in going for Kali, but had followed our

party instead, Gebhr threatened to stab us. Do you understand? Now

remember that he did not only threaten me, but you also, and he would

have executed his threat, too. I will frankly tell you that if this

threat had not been made I would not have shot them even when I did,

though I had long contemplated it. I believe I would not have done it

otherwise. But Gebhr drove me to the limit. Did you see how he tortured

Kali and Chamis; how in the meanest way he betrayed us and sold us? But

have you the least idea what would have happened if they had not found

Smain? Gebhr would then have continually tortured me as well as you. It

is awful to think that he beat you daily with the currycomb, and would

have tortured us both slowly to death, and after our deaths would have

returned to Fashoda and said that we had died of the fever. Nell, I did

not do it to be cruel, but I had to think of how I could save you. I was

only troubled on your account.”

And in his face there were many traces of the sadness that filled his

heart. Nell saw and understood this clearly, for she drew up closer to

him. But he fought against the momentary emotion and continued:

“I shall certainly not change, and I shall protect and guide you as

before; but as long as they were alive there was no hope of delivery.

Now we can flee to Abyssinia. The Abyssinians are black and savage, but

are Christians and are also enemies of the Dervishes. If you keep well

we shall succeed, as it is not very far to Abyssinia. And even if we

should not succeed, even if we should fall into Smain’s hands, do not

fear that he will take revenge on us. He has never in his life seen

Gebhr or the Bedouins; he has seen Chamis only, but what has Chamis to

do with him? In fact, we must not even tell Smain that Chamis was with

us. If we succeed in reaching Abyssinia we are saved, and if not, even

then you would be better off than now, for surely there are no more

monsters like these in the world. Nell, dear, don’t be afraid of me.”

And to gain her confidence, and at the same time encourage her, he began

to stroke her golden hair. The girl listened, at the same time raising

her eyes shyly to his, for it was evident that she wanted to say

something, but held back, hesitated, and felt afraid to speak. At last

she bent her little head down so far that her hair completely hid her

tiny face, and in even softer tones than before she said:

“Stasch, dear!”

“What, my dearest!”

“And they—they will not return?”

“Who?” asked Stasch, surprised.

“Those—the killed.”

“Nell, what are you saying?”

“I am frightened—I am afraid.”

And her pale lips began to tremble.

Silence reigned. Stasch did not believe that the dead could return to

life, but as it was night and their corpses lay quite near, he did feel

a little uneasy. Cold chills went down his back.

“Nell, what are you saying?” he repeated. “Dinah must have taught you to

be afraid of the spirits of the dead.”

He did not finish the sentence, because at this moment something

terrible happened. Suddenly through the dead silence of the night there

rang forth from out the depths of the gorge, from the place where the

dead bodies lay, an extraordinary, unearthly, terrible laughter,

betokening despair, joy, cruelty, sorrow, sobs, and derision—the

convulsive, spasmodic laughter of a lunatic or of a condemned man.

Nell shrieked and flung her arms round Stasch, and his hair stood on

end. Saba got up suddenly and began to growl.

But Kali alone, who was quietly sitting near them, raised his head

calmly and said reassuringly:

“The hyenas are laughing over Gebhr and the lion.”