“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.
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.
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!”
[2]
All the relatives of the Mahdi bore the title “Noble”.
[3]
A large oasis to the west of the Nile.
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.
[4]
This is a southwest wind that blows only in the spring-time.
[5]
An animal called “feuschak,” smaller than a fox.
[6]
The Little Girl.
[7]
The author heard a peal of thunder near Aden, which continued incessantly for nearly half an hour.