The young Baggara chief was evidently in a wild state of excitement, and
turned at once to the professor, saying something in his own tongue,
which the Englishman struggled hard but failed, in spite of his slight
knowledge of the Baggara dialect, fully to grasp.
"I can't make him out," said the professor excitedly. "It is something
about a terrible battle and defeat."
"He means us to escape for our lives," said the doctor excitedly. "Yes,
look," he continued, for the young chief pointed to the window, nodded
to the speaker, and hurried away.
"Quick!" said the professor; "stop for nothing. We must get to the
camels, and take our chances."
As he spoke the young chief dashed in again, followed by the Sheikh, the
panting horse having been handed over to one of the guard; and this time
the young man crossed to Frank, laid his left hand upon the young man's
shoulder, smiling proudly, and waving his right hand in the air as if
cutting with his sword.
"The Emir's son bears the news, Excellencies, that there has been a
great battle, and that his father and his friends have routed the
rebellious ones, who have taken to flight, leaving many killed and
wounded, and among these there is the Emir's greatest friend. He has
been shot by a gun and is dying, but the Emir bids you be ready to bring
him back to life, for he is like a brother and saved him from his
treacherous foes."
"That's a modest demand for one evening, Robert, my son," said the
professor, with a quaintly humorous look. "How do you feel?"
"As if I had been raising the expectations of these people till the time
had come for their hopes to be dashed."
While he was speaking the triumphant blowing of trumpets and discordant
beating of drums, heard faintly upon the evening air, announced the
return of the victorious forces from what had doubtless been nothing
much more serious than a slight skirmish. But it was serious enough for
the friends.
"What is to be done?" said the professor. "We shall have to go to the
dying man's place."
The Sheikh heard what was said, and turned to question the young chief
at once.
"No, Excellencies," he said; "the Emir is having his brother chief borne
to his own house. He will be brought to the palace here, and will not
be long."
"Very well," said the Hakim gravely; "I will do my best. The
instruments, Ben Eddin," he continued, "and what is necessary."
Sam was already at the door, and Frank joined him, to prepare all that
would be required, while the young chief looked on, eager and smiling,
but standing aloof from the Hakim as if in perfect confidence as to the
result, but feeling a superstitious dread of his power.
There was an interval of waiting then, with the sound of the instruments
preceding the triumphant warriors coming nearer and nearer, till all at
once the young chief nodded smilingly to Frank, said a few words to the
Sheikh, and hurried out.
"What does that mean?" said the professor.
"He has gone to see how the chief is and will come to see you as soon as
they have brought him in. He says--"
The Sheikh stopped short, and looked from one to the other as if
perplexed.
"What does he say?" asked the doctor sternly.
"He said, O Hakim," replied the Sheikh humbly, "that he hoped his
father's friend and brother was dead."
"He said that! Why? Is this an enemy?"
"No, Excellency; it is because others of the chief men and their doctors
do not believe in you, and he wants to show them how great you are."
The professor uttered a groan and glanced in a horrified way at his old
friend, who sat now on a rug, looking perfectly calm in what seemed to
be an emergency.
"There is nothing to mind," he said. "The young man is superstitious
and ignorant, but his father is wise and our friend. Let us hope that
the chief is not dead; but gun-shot wounds are more to be dreaded than a
gash from a knife or spear. Be perfectly calm, both of you; there is
nothing to mind."
"Of course not," said the professor, recovering himself now. "I was
startled for the moment by that false alarm. No, there is nothing to
mind, even if the other chiefs are sceptical. You have knowledge enough
to win their respect."
Further conversation was put an end to by the coming of the Emir
himself, with his son, who entered, hot and covered with dust, to say a
few words to the Sheikh, who bowed humbly to hear them.
"The Emir bids me ask you to come and save his friend, O Hakim, but he
fears that it is too late."
The doctor rose at once, signed to his followers, and then motioned to
the Emir to lead on.
He drew back, however, and said a few words to his son, who led off at
once, while the father walked quite humbly behind the great man to whom
he owed his life.
Frank glanced wonderingly round as the little procession passed out into
a kind of hall whose floor was covered with Eastern rugs, and in which
were grouped about some fifty armed men, who showed plenty of grim signs
of having been in a serious fray. Then onward through a couple of rooms
handsomely draped with curtains which gave them the appearance of tents,
and into a much larger apartment, upon a broad divan in which, dimly
shown by a couple of brass lamps, lay the insensible figure of a
stalwart Baggara, the blackest they had yet seen, his glistening skin
showing strangely in contrast with the white folds turned back from his
broad chest, and hideously stained with blood.
As the party entered several women held their head-cloths to their faces
and stole silently out, leaving none there but three grim-looking
Mullahs, who had evidently been playing the parts of surgeons to the
injured Emir, and who scowled angrily at the little party that now
entered the room. Standing silently afterwards with their hands upon
their breasts they gazed through their half-closed eyes as if
contemptuously waiting to hear what this infidel Hakim would say.
It was a crucial position for the doctor, but he played his part with
the greatest dignity, while the Emir stood near as if in perfect
confidence as to his friend's powers, and the son glanced at Frank with
a malicious look in his dark eyes, which he turned directly
half-mockingly at the Mullahs.
The Hakim bowed haughtily to his Soudanese _confreres_, and then turned
to the Sheikh.
"Stand on my left hand, a little back," he said, "ready to interpret."
The Sheikh bowed reverently and took his place, while to Frank the scene
in the gloomy, tent-like room resembled some great picture of Eastern
life that he had once seen.
Then throwing back the long white sleeves of his robe the Hakim bent
down over the patient, and with rapid touches of his white hands as if
he were performing some incantation--so it struck the lookers-on, though
it was only the _tactus eruditus_ of the skilled surgeon--he soon
satisfied himself that his patient lived, and of the injury which had
laid the strong man low.
Frank was ready with all he required, water, sponge, towels, lint, and
probe, while the professor carried bottle, graduated glass, and a pocket
filter slung at his side, furnished with a syphon-like tap.
The silence was strangely oppressive during those few minutes, and as he
examined his patient the Hakim gave aloud the results of his
examination, as if speaking expressly for the professor's ear alone.
"Not dead," he said, "and he has not lost much blood. A very serious
wound, and the bullet without doubt there. Quite beyond my reach. No:
it has not passed through. I dare probe no more to-night. I must wait
for the daylight, and give him some hours to recover a little from the
shock."
Meanwhile the Emir was anxiously watching the Hakim's actions, and when
at last he saw him plug the wound with medicated lint, and then take the
bandage offered by Frank, he drew a sigh of relief, grasping the fact
that the Hakim would not bind up the injury of one who had passed away.
The Hakim then raised his head a little and turned to the Sheikh.
"Tell the Emir," he said, "that his friend has received a very dangerous
wound, but that I hope he will live."
These words were translated to the chief, but in his interpretation the
old Arab omitted the hopeful clause, and said definitely that the
wounded man would recover.