Chapter XI
“You say you followed the kites?” I asked.
“Yes, Your Altitude,” said Ab-Domen, “for several days I kept away, for I thought you might wish ... that is ... the lady ...”; he grinned maliciously.
“It was not pre-arranged,” I said coldly.
“Then I began to see the birds,” he continued. “I was worried. When I found your smashed camels—by the way you were lucky in one respect, for the beasts attracted the birds and held them back for a day—then I was really worried. I knew I should be useless without supplies so I rode at top speed to the caravan, changed camels for horses and overtook you—just in time.”
“Good old Ab-Domen,” said Lady Sarah patting the oriental’s shoulder.
We were resting at the Rhat-hole which was not so far away as we had supposed. The mirage we had seen was of the close-range variety and hadwe had sufficient strength to keep on we might have reached it for ourselves.
Our camp was at some distance from the pool in order not to disturb the wild life to which it is so necessary a feature. These desert water-holes differ in character from the South African variety. The vegetation is less dense and more low-growing and the animals are mostly limited to those of the locality, jerboa, jackals, whiffle-hens and so on.
We did no shooting for it has always seemed to me extremely unsporting to kill unsuspecting animals while they are satisfying their thirst. It was sufficiently entertaining to sit quietly in our compound and watch the amazing variety of visitors to the filthy but refreshing waters. Being the only source of supply in a large area it was occasionally visited by creatures whose natural habitat was many miles away. Among others a lean elephant who had evidently strayed far from his haunts to the southward. He was one of the lop-eared Sudanese type, almost dying of thirst. It was interesting to see how in his case necessity became the mother of invention for, having drunk as much as he could, he proceeded to fill his trunk against future need, hanging the end over his ear in order to conserve the precious liquid.
Here, too, we got our first hint of the distant Nile country toward which we were aiming. A group of ibis stalked along the edge of the pool while, keeping very much to himself, I saw a specimen of the rare Egyptian wart-hog whose snout is spiraled to aid him in piercing the sand in search of lizard-eggs, his favorite food.
Our way was now comparatively easy. We were in the region of Anglo-Egyptian influence where the efficiency of the British Government has established a chain of oases at distances much nearer than that provided by nature. Where water does not exist in natural wells it has been reached by boring or is piped in. Ab-Domen checked off the list of probable station stops. Wun, Borku, Liffi Ganda—the largest of the artesian oases,—Bongo, Meshra and so on, straight to the Egyptian frontier....
It seemed unwise to leave Ab-Domen at this juncture for every time I had done so the results had been unfortunate. As I looked back on my plight in Azad’s camp and my narrow escape from death in the company of my bronze beauty I realized that now, if ever, was a time for playing safe. Lord Wimpole was left behind, a thing of the past, lost, to all intents and purposes, in the desert.
“He was carted off to Tabala the morning after you and Lady Sarah left,” Swank told me. “He hadn’t come-to when they started so I don’t know how he took her departure.”
Much I cared! I snapped my fingers.
Restored to health, nourished with a generous supply of delicious food, my monumental desert mate was more lovely than ever. The peeling process was over and she appeared re-born, a creature of red and gold. How I looked forward to the Nile, with all its romantic associations.
The river came in sight at last after what seemed interminable days crossing the low Wady Mahall hills. Late one afternoon I caught its silver sheen where it wound its way between the fresh green of the rice fields.
“Look!” I pointed. “’Tis the Nile, O, my beloved.”
“My Antony!” ... she scarcely breathed the name. She was really wonderful in her way of catching the spirit and elevation of the moment; her early education must have been thorough.
Our last day’s march was through fields of Egyptian cotton and Lady Sarah made a remark that startled me.
“Horace owns slathers of this,” she said.
I grimaced at the name which showed she was thinking of him, and quickly drew her attention to a lovely field of sesame and lilies planted in alternate rows. Here and there a band of native workmen were weeding the vegetable-ivory-plants in preparation for the annual inundation. So shallow was the alluvial loam that their rude implements frequently reached the underlying sand rich with the records of past centuries, for this entire valley is but the graveyard of earlier civilizations. Our passing excited mild wonder and one brawny Nubian tossed me a skull which Whinney said was clearly that of a man of the bone-age. How petty seemed the ticking of my wrist-watch measured by the chronology of these mute memorials!
We intercepted the river in its upper reaches between the third and fourth cataracts, which are little more than rapids. In the village of Hannik we rested, part of the caravan continuing to Red Sea ports while my camels guided by Ab-Domen turned northward along the river bank. Acting as my advance agent the faithful Turk made splendid arrangements for river boats between the cataracts and lower down at Assouan I found a magnificent dahabeah.
AN EGYPTIAN DEITYBel-Toto, one of the lovely servitors of Lady Sarah on her dahabeah, the El-Sali.
An Egyptian Deity
It was the most comfortable craft of its kind that could be devised and was painted a brilliant emerald green, Lady Sarah’s favorite color. Ab-Domen had not overlooked her name, El-Sali, in the vernacular, which adorned the bow. Crew, supplies, all were in readiness.
In the cabins lay fresh clothes suited to the locality and climate. A nativefellahin immaculate white bounded forth whenever I clapped my hands while Lady Sarah’s needs were looked after by a dusky Syrian maid who fawned at her feet or swung her fan until we sent her away on one pretext or another. My desert queen was a gorgeous picture when she first mounted the companion-way steps and stood under the green and white awning. She wore akaftanor portiere of brilliant blue draped over her shoulders, its fringe in which were hung small silver bells, reaching to her knees. This was supplemented by green silk trousers of ankle length, sandals and a soft scarf. All nails, both toe and finger, were bright with rouge and the underlids of her eyes were deep blue with native Kohl. She was an arresting sight.
Everywhere were jewels or pendant ornaments, bangles for wrist and ankle, and long jade earringsso that she clinked when she walked like a tray-full of drinks. I had donned a light weight burnous of two-inch striped material suitable for a man in the early forties and discarded my heavy Moplah turban for atarbush. Our servants, overcome by our beauty, backed down the companion-way crying upon Allah to protect them from such blighting splendor.
Of all the days of my life those which succeeded are perhaps the most beautiful. Can one imagine more exquisite conditions? Alone with the object of one’s adoration on the wonderful Nile, the most sentimental and sedimental of rivers. It was a voyage through Paradise, the life of lovers in lotus-land....
Swank and Whinney, in a smaller craft, followed our course. For the passengers of El-Sali life was an uninterrupted dream. Day followed bright day in this rainless land while we drifted lazily on our way watching the panorama of palms and quiet river-life, natives gathering locusts from which they squeezed the honey, green-and-gold ichneumons flashing in the sun, shimmering fields of henna and fragrant basil, fishermen seeking ancient carp and the curiousboyadwhich has feathers in place of scales, children playing withatetrodonor ball-fish which they toss about gaily, whispering groves of mulberry trees, marshes pink with mallow amid which stood flaming flamingos and ibis both sacred and profane, water buffalo, okaki, coneys ... there was no end to the variety and interest. Occasionally we stopped at native villages and wandered in to the little bazaars inspecting the curious wares, purchasing here and there a graceful reed basket, an ornament of native turquoise and silver or a roughly cut emerald from the mines at Jebel Zabara.
Ab-Domen had given orders for our entertainment and nightly we were hailed by dancers and singers from the shore or in boats. These came aboard, Swank and Whinney joined us and we watched their performances. Some of the dervishes were remarkable.
Further down the river we began to pass the tombs and monuments of the ancient dynasties and here the entertainments became more and more elaborate for Ab-Domen cleverly utilized the crumbling temples, gigantic columns and seated figures as a background for the performers. At the temple of Philae, notably, he put on a superb show with three principals and a chorus of six Egyptian beauties which caused Swank andWhinney to tie their dahabeah alongside forthwith.
Late into the starry night I sat with my loved-one, continuing the story of my life which had been so often interrupted, filling in the details of my college career with its mad, glad days and then my plunge into exploration, the wonderful things I had accomplished, the people I had met, the honors ... it is not my way to talk about myself but I felt I should tell all to this wonderful woman. She was such a superb listener, quiet, mute.
“Say something,” I murmured, brushing her locks, sweet with jasmine and asphodel, “speak, my oleander.”
“I am speechless,” she said.
I have always loved women of that sort, the simple, quiet ones,—broad between the eyes,—are they bovine? stupid? I do not know. They listen to me.
Thus Lady Sarah lay in herchaise-longue, quiet, smiling, listening to my odyssey. Sometimes her eyes closed and it almost seemed she slept....