*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 60177 ***

                              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.”


                               CHAPTER II

The important experience of the day, now ended, and the impressions of
that night, had so completely exhausted Stasch and Nell that when at
last they were overcome by sleep they both slept so soundly that the
girl only made her appearance outside the tent about mid-day; but Stasch
arose somewhat earlier from the rug that was stretched in front of the
fire, and while waiting for his little companion, he ordered Kali to
prepare breakfast, which, on account of the lateness of the hour, was to
serve at the same time for dinner.

The bright daylight drove away the apparitions of the night, and both
awoke not only rested in body, but also refreshed in mind. Nell looked
better and felt stronger, and as both wished to leave the place where
the Sudanese who had been shot remained, they mounted their horses
immediately after their meal and rode away.

Generally at this time of day all travelers in Africa take their mid-day
rest, and even the caravans of negroes take shelter under the shade of
large trees; these are, you know, the so-called “white hours”—hours of
heat and silence—during which the sun shines unmercifully, looking down
from the sky as though seeking for some one to kill. Every animal crawls
back into the bushes, the song of the bird ceases, the humming of the
insect stops, all nature sinks into utter stillness and hides, as though
protecting itself from a cruel master. But they rode along the gorge,
one of the walls of which threw a dark shadow, so they could go forward
without exposing themselves to the heat. Stasch did not want to leave
the gorge for the simple reason that if on top they could be seen from
afar by Smain’s division, and also because in the hollows of the rocks
it would be easier for them to find water, which trickled through the
openings in the ground or dissolved into mist under the influence of the
rays of the sun. The road always led imperceptibly up hill. On the walls
of the cliffs could be seen deposits of sulphur from time to time; in
consequence of which the water in the crevices smelt of it, and this
reminded the two children very disagreeably of Omdurman and the
Mahdists, who rubbed their heads with a mixture of sulphur and grease.

In other places came the musky odor of civet-cats, and cascades of
lianas hung from high promontories down to the bed of the gorge,
spreading a sickening smell of vanilla.

The little travelers were glad to halt in the shadow of these
embroidered curtains of purple flowers, whose leaves served as food for
the horses. There were no animals to be seen, except from time to time
monkeys squatted on the edges of the rocks, like silhouettes against the
sky—resembling fantastic African idols or the figures that adorn the
corners of temples in India. These overgrown men with manes showed Saba
their teeth, screwed up their mouths to show their astonishment and
anger, and at the same time hopped, blinked their eyes, and scratched
their backs. But Saba, being quite accustomed to seeing them, paid
little attention to their threats.

They now made rapid progress. Joy over their regained freedom drove from
Stasch’s breast the nightmare that had frightened him during the night.
Now he was only disturbed by the thought as to what course he should
take and how he could guide Nell and himself out of this place, in which
a new imprisonment by the Dervishes threatened them, what course they
could plan to aid them during the long journey through the desert to
keep them from perishing of hunger and thirst, and lastly, in what
direction they should direct their steps. Stasch remembered that, when
with Hatim, he heard that the distance from Fashoda to the frontier of
Abyssinia was not more than five days’ journey as the bird flies, and he
reckoned that this would be about one hundred English miles. But it was
now two weeks since they left Fashoda; it was therefore certain that
they had not taken the shortest way, but that the search after Smain had
led them much farther south. He remembered that on the sixth day of the
journey they passed a river which was not the Nile, and that then,
before the ground had become hilly, they had ridden past great swamps.

In the school at Port Said the geography of Africa was very thoroughly
and carefully taught, and Stasch remembered that in describing Ballors
mention was made of an almost unknown stream that ran through swampy
land—the Soba River—and flowed into the Nile. He was not quite sure
whether or not they had passed by this particular stream, but at any
rate he thought they had. He also remembered that when Smain wanted to
capture slaves he did not seek them in the eastern extremity of Fashoda,
as the people of that district had been destroyed by the Dervishes and
the smallpox; but he preferred the road toward the south, in districts
which had not been discovered by previous expeditions. Therefore Stasch
concluded that they were probably following in Smain’s tracks. This
thought at first frightened him, and he began to consider whether they
ought not to desert the gorge, which it was plain continued toward the
south, and march straight toward the east.

But after some consideration he gave up the idea; on the contrary,
thought he, the safest course would be to follow the footsteps of
Smain’s company at a distance of two or three days behind them, for it
was quite uncertain whether Smain with his merchandise of human beings
would return by the same route instead of taking the straight course
toward the Nile. Stasch also knew that Abyssinia could be reached only
from the south, where this country borders the desert, and not by the
eastern frontier, which was strictly guarded by Dervishes. Consequently
he decided to advance as far as possible toward the south.

One might very likely come across negroes there, either those who had
settled there or those who had taken refuge there from the banks of the
White Nile. But if he had to choose between the two evils, Stasch would
rather deal with the blacks than with the Mahdists; besides he also
reckoned that, in case they should strike fugitives or settlers, Kali
and Mea could be of assistance to him. A mere glance at the negress
showed that she belonged to the tribe of Dinka or Schilluk, for she had
exceptionally long, thin legs and large feet, which are typical of both
these tribes, which live on the banks of the Nile and wade through its
bed like storks and cranes. Kali, on the contrary, although he had
become as thin as a skeleton when in Gebhr’s hands, now presented quite
a different aspect. He was small and heavily built, had strong arms,
and, in comparison with Mea, proportionately short legs and small feet.

As Kali did not understand a word of Arabian, and only spoke the
Ki-swahili language very badly (a knowledge of which will make one
understood nearly everywhere throughout Africa, and which Stasch had
practically learned from the Zanzibar negroes working on the canal), it
was evident that he came from some remote district.

Stasch therefore decided to ask him where he did come from.

“Kali, what is the name of your nation?” he inquired.

“Wa-hima,” the young negro answered.

“Is it a great nation?”

“A very great one, which wages war with the wicked Samburu, and captures
their cattle.”

“And where is your village?”

“Far away, far away—Kali does not know where it is.”

“In a land like this?”

“No. In that country there is a great body of water and also mountains.”

“What is the name of this sheet of water?”

“We call it ‘The Great Water.’ ”

Stasch thought that perhaps the boy had come from the Albert Nyanza
district, which until the present time was in Emin Pasha’s hands, and to
make sure of this he inquired further.

“Doesn’t a white chief live there who has black smoking ships and
soldiers?”

“No; the old people tell us that they have seen white people,” and with
this Kali raised his fingers, counting one, two, three. “Kali has never
seen them, because he was not born there, but Kali’s father received
them and gave them many cows.”

“What is your father?”

“King of the Wa-hima.”

Stasch was not a little flattered at the thought that he had a prince
for his servant.

“Would you like to see your father?”

“Kali wants to see his mother.”

“And what would you do if we met Wa-hima people? And what would they
do?”

“The Wa-hima would fall on their faces before Kali.”

“Then conduct us to them and you can stay with them and reign as your
father’s heir, and we will ride on toward the sea.”

“Kali will not meet them and will not stay there, for Kali loves the
‘Great Man’ and the ‘Daughter of the Moon.’ ”

Stasch turned round cheerfully to his companion and said:

“Nell, you have become a Daughter of the Moon.”

But as he looked at her he suddenly became sad, for it struck him that
the little maid, who had suffered greatly from the fatigue of the
journey, with her pale, transparent face in reality looked more like an
inhabitant of the moon than a dweller on this earth.

The young negro also remained silent for a moment, then he continued:

“Kali loves Bwana Kubwa, for Bwana Kubwa did not kill Kali—only Gebhr
killed him—he gave Kali plenty to eat.”

And he stroked his chest and stomach and repeated with visible delight:

“Plenty of meat, plenty of meat.”

Stasch would have liked to find out how the boy had been imprisoned by
the Dervishes, but it turned out that on a certain night after he had
been captured in one of the trenches dug to entrap zebras, he had
already been through so many hands that one could not decide from his
answer through what countries and by what route he had at last reached
Fashoda. Stasch was impressed by what he said about the “Great Water,”
for if he had come from the district of Albert Nyanza, Albert Edward
Nyanza, or even from the Victoria Nyanza, round which the kingdoms of
Unyoro and Uganda lie, he would undoubtedly have heard something of Emin
Pasha, his soldiers, and steamers, which raised consternation and fear
in the minds of the negroes. The Tanganyika was too far distant, and so
the only supposition that remained was that Kali’s race must have its
home somewhere in the vicinity of the waters of Rudolf and Stefanie.
These lands were also fairly remote, but the expedition was at least
half way on its journey, so while the lands could not be said to be very
near Fashoda, still they were near the place where the travelers now
were—and it was quite possible that they might meet the Wa-hima.

After a ride of many hours the sun began to set, and the heat had abated
considerably. They reached a wide plain, where there was water and where
wild figs grew, so they made a halt to give the horses a rest and to
refresh themselves with food. As the walls of the cliffs were lower at
this point, Stasch ordered Kali to climb up and look around to see if
there was any smoke.

Kali obeyed, and was soon on the edge of the cliffs. He carefully
noticed everything on all sides and then slid down on a thick liana, and
said that there was no smoke, but “Nyama.” It was easy to guess that he
did not mean birds, but some kind of big game, for he pointed to
Stasch’s rifle and then put his finger to his head as a sign that they
were horned animals.

Then Stasch climbed the height, and carefully raising his head over the
edge of the cliff, began to look around.

Nothing interrupted the view, for the high jungle had been destroyed by
fire, and the new one, shooting forth from the charred earth, was
scarcely a foot high. All around as far as eye could reach were
scattered tall trees still growing, whose trunks had been scorched by
the flames. In the shade of one of these trees a herd of antelope was
grazing, their bodies resembling horses and their heads buffaloes. The
sunlight peering through the branches made bright spots of light on
their brown backs.

There were nine of them, and they were not more than a hundred feet
away. As the wind was blowing from the animals toward the ravine, they
continued feeding quietly, fearing no danger. Stasch, who was desirous
of providing meat for the caravan, fired upon the nearest animal, which
fell as though struck by lightning. The others fled, and with them a
huge buffalo, which they had not seen before, because it had been hidden
by a large stone. The boy’s pride as a huntsman was aroused, and waiting
for the animal to turn round, he sent a bullet through it. The buffalo
swayed heavily as soon as it was hit, and ran off; and before Stasch was
able to change his cartridges it had disappeared behind a hillock.
Before the smoke had cleared away Kali ran to the antelope and ripped it
open with Gebhr’s knife. Stasch went up to him to get a nearer view of
the animal, and was much surprised when the young negro took the liver
of the antelope, which was still warm, in his blood-stained hands and
presented it to him.

“Why do you give it to me?” said he.

“Msuri! Msuri! Bwana Kubwa, eat now.”

“Eat it yourself,” answered Stasch, disgusted at the suggestion.

Kali did not wait to be told twice. He at once began to tear the liver
to pieces with his teeth and greedily swallow the raw bits. But seeing
that Stasch looked at him with disgust, he did not stop between
mouthfuls, but continually repeated, “Msuri! Msuri!”

After Kali had eaten more than half the liver, he began skinning the
antelope, which he did very quickly and so dexterously that the skin was
soon removed. Stasch was surprised that Saba was not there to help in
this work, so he whistled to invite him to the feast.

Saba did not come, but Kali, who was bending over the antelope, looked
up and said:

“The big dog has gone after the buffalo.”

“Did you see him?” said Stasch.

“Kali saw it.”

As he said this he lifted the body of the antelope with both hands, and
placing it upon his shoulder, he went off toward the gorge.

Stasch whistled once more and waited, but as he found that it was of no
avail, he followed Kali. In the gorge they found Mea busily cutting
thorns from the hedge, and Nell, who was plucking their last bird with
her tiny fingers, said:

“Did you whistle for Saba? He ran after you.”

“He ran after a buffalo which I shot and I am worried about him,”
answered Stasch. “These animals are so large and powerful that even a
lion is afraid to attack them. If Saba should try to fight one of them
he would fare badly.”

When Nell heard this she was worried also, and declared that she would
not go to bed until Saba returned. When Stasch saw how grieved she was
he felt angry with himself for not having concealed the danger from her,
and he tried to console her.

“I would have followed them with my rifle, but now they must be far
away; besides, night is approaching and their trail can not be seen. The
buffalo was hit squarely, and I hope it will fall. At any rate, it will
be so much exhausted from loss of blood that even if it were to fall
upon Saba, the dog could run away in time. Yes, he may not return till
night, but he will surely return.”

Stasch himself did not believe what he said, because he remembered what
he had heard about the vindictiveness of the African buffalo, which,
even when severely wounded, runs round in a circle and watches to see
which way the hunter goes, so as to attack him unawares, tossing him
high in the air with its horns. Quite likely Saba might have met with a
similar fate, besides other dangers to which he might be subjected in
his journey by night.

As soon as it had become dark Kali and Mea managed to make a hedge
fence, light a fire, and get supper ready. But even then there was no
sign of Saba.

Nell became very uneasy and began to cry. Stasch insisted on her lying
down and going to sleep, and he promised her to wait up for Saba and to
look for him and bring him back as soon as daylight appeared. Nell
entered the tent, but thrust out her little head continually to inquire
if the dog had returned. She did not fall asleep till after midnight,
when Mea left the tent to relieve Kali, who until now had watched by the
fire.

“Why does the Daughter of the Moon cry?” asked Kali, and Stasch, as they
both lay down on thin wooden benches to sleep, said:

“She is worried, fearing that Saba is killed by the buffalo.”

“Perhaps he has killed it,” answered the young negro.

Then they stopped talking and Stasch went fast asleep. He awoke while it
was still dark because it had become colder. Mea, who was supposed to be
on the watch, had fallen asleep, and so it had been some time since she
had put dry wood on the expiring flames.

No one was lying upon the felt quilt on which Kali had slept.

Stasch threw firewood on the glowing ashes, nudged the negress and
asked:

“Where’s Kali?”

For a time she stared at him as though in a trance, and then, when wide
awake, she said:

“Kali has taken Gebhr’s knife and gone outside of the hedge. I thought
he went to get more wood for the fire, but he has not returned yet.”

“Has he been gone a long while?”

“Yes, a long while.”

Stasch waited some time, but as the negro did not return, he reluctantly
asked himself, “Could he have run away?”

He felt a pain in his heart like that experienced by those who have met
with ingratitude. He had befriended Kali and protected him when Gebhr
tortured him daily, and had eventually saved his life. Nell always liked
him, she wept over his misfortunes, and they both were as kind as could
be to him, and yet he had now run away! He often said that he had no
idea in which direction the settlements of the Wa-hima lay, and that he
could not find his way there—and still he had run away.

Stasch again remembered the description of travels in Africa which he
had read in Port Said, the accounts of the travelers, the stupidity of
the negroes in throwing away the luggage and deserting—for even if
threatened with the punishment of certain death they did so just the
same. Evidently Kali, whose only weapon was a Sudanese sword, would
succumb to starvation or be recaptured by the Dervishes, unless devoured
by wild beasts.

“Oh, the ungrateful wretch! And what a fool!”

Stasch seriously began to think how much more difficult the journey
would be for them without Kali and how much more heavily the work would
fall on the others. To water the horses and tie them for the night, to
put up the tent and the hedge, to guard the luggage and to see that the
provisions were not lost, to skin and cut up the slain animals, all
duties which Kali had performed, would, through loss of the negro, fall
to his share, and he was obliged to confess to himself that he had no
definite idea how to do many of these things, as, for instance, skinning
animals.

“Well, what else can I do?” said he. “It will have to be done.”

Meanwhile the sun appeared above the horizon, and, as is always the case
at the equator, it was daylight in a minute. A little after this the
water in the tent, that Mea had prepared for the little lady to wash in,
began to splash, by which Stasch knew that Nell had arisen and that she
was dressing. Somewhat later she appeared completely dressed, but with
her comb in her hands and her hair not arranged.

“What about Saba?” asked she.

“He has not returned yet.”

The corners of the girl’s mouth began to tremble.

“Perhaps he will come back yet,” said Stasch. “You remember that
sometimes in the desert he was missing for two whole days, and yet he
always came back to us.”

“You said that you were going to look for him.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not, Stasch?”

“Because it is impossible for me to leave you alone with Mea.”

“And Kali?”

“Kali is not here.”

He drew back, debating with himself whether or not he ought to tell her
the whole truth; but as it would be impossible to hide it, he concluded
that it would be better to tell her everything.

“Kali has taken Gebhr’s sword,” he said, “and he went away during the
night, no one knows where. Who can tell? He may have run away. Negroes
often do this, even to their own detriment. I am sorry—but perhaps he
will now see that he has acted foolishly and——”

The next words were drowned by Saba’s joyful bark, which penetrated the
gorge. Nell threw down the comb and tried to run toward him, but the
thorns in the hedge prevented her.

Stasch at once began to tear down a part of the hedge, but before he had
succeeded in even making a passage Saba appeared, and behind him Kali,
shining and wet with dew as though soaked through by a very heavy
shower.

Both children were overcome with joy, and as soon as Kali, who was so
fatigued from his exertions that he could scarcely get his breath,
reached the inside of the hedge, Nell threw her little arms around his
black neck, hugging him tight.

“Kali does not like to see the Bibi cry,” he said, “so Kali looked for
the dog and found him.”

“Good Kali,” cried Stasch, patting him on the shoulder; “and were you
not afraid that you would meet a lion or a leopard during the night?”

“Kali afraid, but Kali go,” answered the young man.

These words endeared him still more to the children. At Nell’s request
Stasch took from one of the bundles a string of glass beads which the
Greek Kaliopuli had given them when they left Omdurman, and placed them
around Kali’s neck. He was delighted with the gift, and looking proudly
at Mea, said:

“Mea has no glass beads, but Kali has, for Kali is ‘Great World.’ ”

In this way the sacrifice of the black boy was rewarded. Saba, on the
contrary, received a severe reprimand, from which he was made to
understand for the second time during the period he had been with Nell,
that he was very naughty and that if he ever did such a thing again he
would be led by a leash like a small dog. He listened to this sermon
while wagging his tail with rather a double meaning. But Nell was sure
that she saw by the expression of his eyes that he was ashamed, and that
he had really blushed for shame, but that could not be perceived,
because his cheeks were covered with hair.

Then breakfast followed, and during this meal Kali recounted his
adventures, and Stasch translated them into English for Nell, who did
not understand the Ki-swahili language. It so happened that the buffalo
had run very far off, and it had been difficult for Kali to find his
trail, for there was no moon that night. As good luck would have it, it
had rained two days before, and the earth was not very hard; therefore
the feet of the heavy animal had made their impress in the wet earth.
Kali searched for the trail by observing the cleft in the hoofs, and
followed his footprints for some time. At last the buffalo stumbled and
must have fallen over dead, for there were no traces of a struggle
between him and Saba. When Kali found them Saba had already eaten the
largest part of one of his forefeet, but although he could not eat any
more himself, he would not permit two hyenas and several jackals, that
stood round and waited until the stronger animal of prey had had his
fill and gone away, to approach the meat.

The boy complained that the dog had even growled at him, but then he
threatened him with the displeasure of the “Great Man” and “Bibi,”
caught him by the collar, dragged him away from the buffalo, and did not
let him loose until he reached the gorge.

With this, the story of Kali’s adventures by night ended, then they all
mounted their horses and rode on contentedly.

All but the long-legged Mea, who, although quiet and submissive, looked
enviously at the necklace adorning the throat of the young negro and on
Saba’s collar, and thought sadly to herself:

“They are both ‘Great World,’ but I have only a ring on one foot.”


                              CHAPTER III

During the three following days they continually traveled through the
gorge and, as it so happened, always up hill. The days were unusually
warm, the nights alternately cold and sultry. The rainy season was
approaching; here and there milk-white clouds heavy with rain hung low
down close to the horizon. Occasionally strips of rain could be seen,
and far off was a rainbow. On the morning of the third day one of these
clouds burst over their heads like a broken cask whose hoops had sprung
and deluged them with warm rain, but as good luck would have it, it did
not last long, and then the weather was fine once more, and they were
able to continue their journey. Now birds appeared in such quantities
that Stasch could shoot and bring down five of them without dismounting,
which more than sufficed for one meal and also enough for Saba. Riding
in the brisk air was not at all fatiguing, and a quantity of wild game
and plenty of water removed all fear of hunger and thirst. They were
getting along so well that Stasch was always good-natured, and while
riding by the side of the girl he talked cheerfully with her, and even
joked occasionally.

“Nell, do you know,” said he, as they halted for a short time under a
big breadfruit tree, from which Kali and Mea cut off large melon-shaped
fruits, “it sometimes seems to me as though I were a wandering knight.”

“And what is a wandering knight?” asked Nell, turning her pretty little
face toward him:

“A long, long time ago, in the Middle Ages, there were such knights, who
rode about the country looking for adventures. They fought with giants
and dragons—and do you know each one had his lady, whom he protected
and defended.”

“And am I such a lady?”

Stasch thought a moment and then answered:

“No; you are too young for that. Those ladies were grown up——”

And the idea never struck him that perhaps never had wandering knight
ever served lady so faithfully as he had his little sister. He took
everything that he had done for her as a matter of course.

But Nell felt hurt by his words, and screwing up her mouth into a pout,
she said:

“You once told me in the desert that I acted like a big girl of
thirteen. Ah!”

“Only once; but you are merely eight years old.”

“But in ten years I shall be eighteen.”

“Oh, that is a great while off, and then I shall be twenty-four, but at
that age a man does not think about any lady, for he has something quite
different to think of then; that is very evident.”

“And what are you going to do?”

“By that time I shall be an engineer or a mariner, or, if war were to
break out in Poland, I should travel there, to fight as my father
fought.”

Then she asked uneasily:

“But will you positively return to Port Said?”

“For the present we both must return there.”

“To our little papa,” sighed the girl.

And immediately her eyes were veiled by sadness and homesickness. As
good luck would have it, a swarm of beautiful gray parrots, with pink
heads and rose-colored down under their wings, flew toward them. The
children immediately forgot what they had been talking about, and their
eyes followed the flight of the birds.

The flock of parrots flew over a group of Euphorbia and came down upon a
neighboring sycamore, through the branches of which could be heard
voices that sounded like a chattering council, or a terrible quarrel.

“These are the parrots that learn to speak the most readily,” said
Stasch. “As soon as we make a longer halt I will do my best to try to
catch one for you.”

“Oh, Stasch, I thank you,” cried Nell joyfully. “I will call him
‘Daisy.’ ”

Mea and Kali, who meanwhile had been plucking the fruit from a
breadfruit tree, now loaded up the horses with them, and the little
caravan continued on its way.

In the afternoon it clouded over again, and several times there was a
short shower that filled all the crevices in the ground with water. Kali
prophesied a heavy storm, and it occurred to Stasch that in this case
the gorge, which had become narrower and narrower, would not be a safe
resting-place for the night, as it would most likely become the bed of
the stream. So he decided to spend the night above the gorge, and Nell
was delighted at this, especially when Kali, who had been sent out to
reconnoiter, returned, announcing that not far from where they were was
a forest of many kinds of trees, in which little monkeys were disporting
themselves; but these monkeys were not ugly and vicious as those they
had seen before. Therefore as soon as they struck a place where the
walls of the cliff were low and not too steep they led the horses up,
and when it was dark they prepared for night. Nell’s tent was put up in
a somewhat higher and drier place underneath a large ant-hill, which
completely barred the entrance from one side and strengthened the hedge
that led toward it.

In the vicinity stood an enormous tree with wide-spreading branches and
heavy foliage, which would shelter them sufficiently from the rain. In
front of the hedge grew scattered groups of trees, and further off was a
dense woods filled with underbrush, above which could be seen the tops
of strange palms resembling giant fans spread out like the tail of a
peacock.

Stasch learned from Kali that before the beginning of the second rainy
season—that is in autumn—it is dangerous to spend the night under
these palms, because the huge fruit ripens, breaks off when least
expected, and falls from its great height with such force that it might
kill a human being, or even a horse. But at the present time the fruit
had not matured. Before the sun went down little monkeys could be seen
in the distance scrambling and playfully chasing one another in the
tree-tops.

Stasch and Kali collected a sufficient quantity of wood for the night,
and as occasional heavy waves of hot air blew toward them, they fastened
down the hedge with pegs, which the young negro whittled with Gebhr’s
sword, and drove into the ground. This precaution was very necessary,
for the strong wind might break and tear down the thorn branches out of
which the hedge was made, and thus make it easy for wild animals to
attack them.

Soon after the sun went down the wind stopped suddenly, but on the other
hand the air had become heavy and sultry. In the spaces between the
clouds stars appeared occasionally, but later complete darkness settled
down, so that one could hardly see a foot in advance. The little
wanderers grouped themselves around the fire and listened to the chatter
and screams of the monkeys, which were making a perfect pandemonium. In
the neighboring woods the howls of the jackals and other strange
sounds—through which could be heard the restlessness and the fear of
that which under the veil of darkness in the wilderness threatens every
human being—united to form an appropriate accompaniment.

Suddenly the stillness became intense, and in the darkness the growl of
a lion was heard.

The horses, which were grazing nearby in the short jungle grass, began
to approach the light of the fire by hopping with their chained front
feet, and even then the hair of Saba, who was usually so courageous,
bristled, and he crouched in front of his master with his tail drawn
down, obviously seeking protection. The growl sounded again, this time
as if coming from the bowels of the earth; it was a deep, heavy,
long-drawn sigh, as if the animal had let it out of its powerful lungs
with difficulty. The sound rolled on glidingly close to the ground,
sometimes louder, sometimes softer, then becoming a deep, hollow,
unearthly sigh.

“Kali, put more wood on the fire,” cried Stasch.

The negro threw an armful of branches on the fire with such haste and
force that at first nothing but sparks ascended; then the flame blazed
forth.

“The lion will not attack us, will he, Stasch?” whispered Nell, pulling
the boy by the sleeve.

“No, he will not attack us. Look how high the hedge is——”

As he said this he positively thought that they were in no danger, but
still he was worried about the horses, which pressed nearer and nearer
the hedge and threatened to tread it down.

Meanwhile the sighing changed into a long-drawn-out thundering roar,
enough to terrify any human being, for even creatures who know no fear
tremble from head to foot, shaking like panes of glass at the report of
far-off cannon.

Stasch threw a hurried glance at Nell, and seeing her quivering mouth
and moist eyes, he said:

“Don’t be frightened. Don’t cry.”

She answered under a great strain:

“I don’t want to cry, but my eyes perspire so—oh!”

The last scream escaped from her lips because at that moment a second
roar, far more powerful and much nearer than the first, rang out from
the forest. The horses began to push themselves still nearer the hedge,
and if the long, steel-like prickles of the acacia branches had not
hindered them they would have broken through. Saba growled and trembled
like an ivy leaf, and Kali began to repeat in a broken voice:

[Illustration:  “A second roar, far more powerful and much nearer than
the first, rang out from the forest. The echoes filled the jungle,
saturating the darkness with thunder and fear.” ]

“Sir! Two! Two! Two!”

As the lions were now responding to each other, they continued to roar,
and this awful concert kept up for some time in the darkness, for as
soon as one of the animals ceased the other began. Stasch was unable to
distinguish from what direction their voices came, for the echoes
repeated them over and over in the gorge and reverberated from cliff to
cliff, sounded above and beneath, filled the forest and the jungle,
saturating the darkness with thunder and with fear.

Only one thing seemed to the boy to be quite certain, and that was that
the beasts were surely approaching. Kali also noticed that the lions
were creeping round the bivouac, approaching in smaller circles, and he
also noticed that, being kept from attacking them by the fire, they were
expressing their displeasure and fear by emitting these dreadful sounds.

He also seemed to think that only the horses were in danger, for he
said, as he counted on his fingers:

“The lions will kill one, two; not all, not all!”

“Throw wood on the fire,” repeated Stasch.

Again a bigger flame burst forth, and suddenly the roars ceased. But
Kali raised his head and began to listen.

“What’s the matter?” asked Stasch.

“Rain——” answered the negro.

Now Stasch also pricked up his ears. The branches of the trees served as
a roof for the tent, and also for the entire hedge, and therefore not a
single drop fell to the ground, but it could be heard pattering on the
leaves above them.

As there was not a breath of even the sultry air stirring, it was easy
to conjecture that it was pouring in the thicket.

The sound increased moment by moment, and after a little while the
children perceived drops descending from the leaves, drops of rain that
looked like large rosy pearls in the firelight. As Kali had prophesied,
a terrific storm had come up. The sound of the storm increased until it
became a wild roar. Rain fell faster and faster, and at last great
streams of water penetrated the thicket. The fire was going out. Kali
threw on fagots to no effect. The wet branches only smoldered, the
blackened wood beneath crackled, and after a feeble flicker the flames
died away.

“Though the pelting rain drown the fire, the hedge will still protect
us,” said Stasch to calm Nell.

Then he led the little girl within the tent and covered her with a
shawl, after which he went out again at once, for he heard a short roar.
This time it seemed much nearer, and in it there was a note of triumph.

Every second the storm increased. The raindrops pelted the foliage like
shot. Had not the fire been protected by the branches it would have gone
out at once, but soon there arose only heavy smoke, through which narrow
blue flames shot up here and there. Kali thought that the fire was about
out, and so did not throw any more fagots on it. Instead, he quickly
swung a rope round the tree, and with its aid soon climbed higher and
higher.

“What are you doing?” asked Stasch.

“Kali climbs up the tree.”

“Why?” he screamed, angry at the boy’s selfishness.

A vivid flash of lightning shot through the darkness, and Kali’s answer
was drowned by a clap of thunder which shook the heavens and the
wilderness. At the same time a hurricane broke forth that tore the
branches off the trees and in a second swept over the place where the
fire had been and carried away the glowing pieces of wood which remained
under the ashes, and flung them, like fiery, sparkling sheafs, into the
jungle.

The next moment an impenetrable darkness enveloped the camp. The
terrible equatorial storm raged in the heavens and on the earth. Claps
of thunder and flashes of lightning followed one another in rapid
succession. The vivid forks of lightning tore wildly through the
somberness of the black sky. On the nearby cliff a strange-looking blue
ball was seen; for a time it rolled along the gorge, then flamed up into
dazzling brilliancy, exploding with such a terrible report that it
seemed as if the very rocks must be crushed to powder by the shock.
Then, as before, perfect silence reigned.

Stasch was worried on Nell’s account, and he groped his way toward the
tent, which was still standing, being protected by the ant-hill and the
immense tree trunk; nevertheless the next gust of wind might be heavier
and break the ropes and carry it away, heaven knows where. The storm
abated at times, then increased, and rivers of rain and masses of broken
twigs, branches, and foliage from the neighboring woods came thundering
down.

Stasch was nearly at his wits’ end. He did not know whether he ought to
leave Nell in the tent or take her out. In the first case she might
become entangled in the ropes and be carried off with the tent-canvas;
on the other hand, she stood a chance of getting thoroughly drenched and
being carried away in addition, for even Stasch, though much stronger
than she, was scarcely able to keep his own footing.

This desperate situation was at last solved by the whirlwind, which soon
carried off the top of the tent, and now the canvas walls offered no
further protection. There was nothing to do but to wait in the
impenetrable darkness, surrounded by two lions, for the storm to abate.

Stasch thought that perhaps these animals had also sought shelter from
the storm in the nearby forest, but he was quite sure that they would
return after the rain had ceased, and the awful predicament was made
worse by the fact that the hurricane had also demolished the hedge.

Everything threatened destruction. Stasch’s rifle was useless, and he
had no scope for his energy. Face to face with the storm, the lightning,
the tempest, the rain, the darkness, and the lions, he felt himself
defenseless, helpless. The canvas walls, beaten by the hurricane,
drenched them on all sides, so Stasch threw his arm around Nell and
guided her outside the tent; then they both clung to the tree trunk and
there waited either death or the merciful help of heaven.

But now suddenly between the blasts of wind came the voice of Kali,
which could scarcely be heard above the pattering of the rain.

“Ah! ah! Up the tree! Up the tree!”

And immediately a wet rope let down from above touched the boy’s
shoulder.

“Fasten Bibi to it. Kali will draw her up!” cried the negro again.

Stasch did not hesitate a minute. He rolled Nell up in the canvas, so
that the rope could not cut her, bound it tightly round her body, lifted
her up with outstretched arms, and cried, “Pull!”

There happened to be some low branches on the tree, so Nell’s journey
through the air was not long. Kali soon caught her in his strong arms
and deposited her between the tree trunk and an enormous branch, which
was roomy enough for half a dozen more such tiny beings as she. No blast
of wind could blow her down from the tree, and although the water ran
down the tree in a stream, the trunk, which was more than ten feet
thick, protected her at least from those sheets of water which the
tempest drove obliquely toward them.

After the negro had brought the little “Bibi” to this place of safety,
he let the rope down for Stasch, but he, like a captain who is the last
to leave his sinking ship, ordered Mea to climb up before him.

Kali’s help was unnecessary, for she swung herself up in a minute with
skill and agility, as though she were the sister of a chimpanzee. It was
a more difficult feat for Stasch, but still he was sufficiently trained
in gymnastics to overcome the weight of his own body, which was
increased by the rifle and the cartridges, with which he had hastily
filled his pockets.

In a short time they were all in the tree. Stasch had become so
accustomed to think always of Nell first, that he now set about at once
to see that she stood in no danger of falling off, ascertaining if she
had room enough, and whether she could lie down comfortably. Satisfied
in these respects, he began racking his brains as to how he could
shelter her from the storm. But there was not much hope that he would be
successful in this. To erect a small roof over their heads would have
been easy work during the day, but now the darkness surrounding them was
so intense that they could not even see each other. If the storm would
only abate they could light a fire to dry Nell’s clothes.

Stasch was in despair, thinking that the child, who was drenched to the
skin, would surely have her first attack of fever the following day. He
was afraid that it might be cold in the early morning after the storm,
as had been the case after the previous nights, though the blasts of
wind and the rain during the other storms had been warm. Stasch was only
surprised at its duration, for he knew that equatorial storms are the
fiercer in proportion to their speed in passing. It was a long time
before the thunder ceased and the wind calmed down a little, but even
then it continued to rain, not so heavily as before, but still the
raindrops were so heavy and dense that the foliage offered absolutely no
shelter. From beneath them could be heard the roaring of waters, as if
the whole jungle were converted into a sea. Stasch shuddered, thinking
that they would surely be destroyed in the gorge. He also thought of
what might have happened to Saba, and this made him very sad, but he did
not dare to talk about the dog to Nell. He cherished a fond hope that
the clever animal had found a safe refuge between the rocks that
overhung the gorge. At any rate, it was impossible for him to help the
dog.

And so they sat there close to one another, becoming wetter and wetter
under the outspread branches, and waiting for dawn. After a few hours
the air began to cool off and at last the rain stopped entirely. To all
appearances the water now only flowed over the edge of the promontories
down into the lower regions, for no splashing or hollow roaring could be
heard.

On the previous day Stasch noticed that Kali had attempted to make a
fire with wet branches and the idea suddenly struck him of ordering the
negro to descend and try if he could do it again. But just as he turned
toward him something happened which nearly froze the blood in the veins
of all four.

A terrible, heartrending cry from the horses—a cry full of pain,
surprise, and deadly fear—broke the silence of the night. Through the
darkness were heard frightful sounds, then a short gurgling, followed by
hollow sighs and groans, and at the very end a piercing, inexpressible
sound, and then silence reigned.

“The lions! Lions kill horses!” whispered Kali.

There was something so terrible in this attack by night, in the violence
of the elements, and in the sudden killing of the animals, that for a
minute Stasch’s blood nearly froze in his veins and he never once
thought of the rifle. But what good would it do to shoot in such
darkness? At best the nocturnal marauders, frightened by the light and
the report of the shots, would leave the dead horses, follow those who
had wandered away from the camping place as far as their bound feet
would permit, and would then run away.

At the thought of what really might have happened had they stayed below,
Stasch began to shudder. Nell, clinging to him, trembled as if seized by
her first attack of fever. However, the tree protected them from being
attacked. Doubtless it was Kali who had saved their lives.

In spite of all, however, it was a terrible night, by far the most awful
of the entire journey.

They crouched on the branches like drenched birds, and listened to what
was going on below. For a while deep silence reigned, then again there
were sounds denoting the tearing of large pieces of meat, the greedy
smacking of lips, the gasping breath and the groans of the monsters.

The scent of raw meat and blood penetrated into the top of the tree, for
the lions held their feast not further than twenty feet away from the
hedge. They feasted so long that Stasch lost patience and became angry,
and he took up the rifle and shot in the direction from which the noises
came. A short, broken-off, angry roar was the only answer. Then once
more was heard the cracking of the bones, which the animals of prey
crunched between their enormous jaws. In the background the blue and red
eyes of the hyenas and jackals glistened as they awaited their turn.

And so the endless hours of the night dragged on.


                               CHAPTER IV

At last the sun rose and lighted up the jungle, the scattered groves,
and the forest. The lions disappeared with the first ray of dawn. Stasch
made Kali build a fire and ordered Mea to take Nell’s things out of the
leather bag, in which they were packed, to dry them and change the
girl’s clothes as quickly as possible. He took the rifle and carefully
went over the camp to see what ravages had been made by the storm and
the bloodthirsty beasts.

Just behind the hedge, only the stakes of which remained, lay the first
horse, nearly half devoured; some hundred feet further, a second, hardly
begun; and next to it the third, with its stomach torn open and its head
smashed in. They all presented a terrible sight, for in their open,
glassy eyes could be seen their terror at approaching death, and their
wide-open jaws displayed their strong teeth. The ground was stamped down
and the cavities formed pools of blood. Stasch was so enraged that at
the moment he almost wished that the disheveled head of one of the
nocturnal robbers, tired out after the feast, would appear behind one of
the bushes, so that he might send a bullet through it. But he was
obliged to postpone his revenge at present, for he had other things to
attend to.

The remaining horses had to be caught. The boy supposed that like Saba,
whose carcass was nowhere to be seen, they might have hidden somewhere
in the woods. The hope that the faithful fellow-sufferer had not fallen
a prey to the wild animals made Stasch feel so happy that he took
courage once more, and the finding of the donkey naturally increased his
joy. It so happened that clever longears had not even taken the trouble
to run far away. He had simply crept into a nook made by the ant-hill
and the large tree outside the hedge, and there, with head and sides
protected, he had awaited events, in readiness at any moment to repulse
the attack by vigorously kicking out his hind legs. But the lions had
apparently not noticed him, so when the sun rose and the danger was over
he felt the necessity of lying down and taking a good rest after all the
tragical events of the night.

While circling the camp Stasch at last found the impress of horses’
hoofs in the moistened earth. The tracks pointed toward the woods and
then turned off toward the gorge. That was fortunate, for it would not
be difficult to capture horses in the narrow pass. A little further on
in the grass was found a foot-chain, which one of the horses had
succeeded in breaking off during its flight. This horse must have run
away so far that for the present he would have to be considered lost. To
offset this, Stasch discovered the other two behind a low rock, not in
the ravine, but on its borders. One of them was rolling on the ground,
the other grazing in the fresh green grass. Both looked very tired, as
though they had run a long distance. But daylight had driven all fear
from their hearts, and they greeted Stasch by neighing in a short,
friendly way. The horse which was rolling on the ground sprang to his
feet, which enabled the boy to see that he also had succeeded in
breaking loose from his foot-chains, but fortunately he had preferred
remaining with his friend to running away aimlessly.

Stasch left both of them under the cliff and advanced to the edge of the
ravine to make sure whether it were possible to continue the journey. He
now saw that the heavy downpour had been so severe that the rain had run
off and the ground was nearly dry. And soon his attention was attracted
by a grayish-white article, which had been caught in the vines
overhanging the opposite side of the cliff. This proved to be the roof
of the tent, which had been blown off and caught on the bushes; it had
taken such a strong hold that the rain could not wash it away. After
all, the tent offered a better shelter for Nell than the hut made of
branches of trees put together hastily, and Stasch was much pleased at
finding this article, which he had thought was lost.

Now his joy increased when out of a higher crevice in the cliff hidden
by lianas Saba came running toward him, holding in his teeth an animal
whose head and tail hung out of either side of his jaws. The huge dog
climbed down in a minute and laid at Stasch’s feet a striped hyena, with
broken back and one foot bitten off; then he began to wag his tail and
to bark cheerfully as if to say: “I must acknowledge that I took to my
heels before the lion, but even you crouched like birds on the tree. And
besides, you see, I have not passed the night without accomplishing
something.”

And he was so proud of himself that Stasch scarcely liked to make him
leave the ill-smelling carcass behind, instead of bringing it to Nell.

When they both returned they found a large fire in the bivouac, water
boiling in the pots, and the meal being cooked. Nell had put on dry
clothing, but she looked so pale and ill that Stasch was startled and
took her hand, to make sure whether or not she was feverish.

“Nell, what is the matter?” asked he.

“Nothing, Stasch; I am only very sleepy.”

“I believe it, after such a night! Thank goodness, you have cold hands.
Oh, what a night that was! Of course you must be sleepy—I am sleepy,
too. But don’t you feel well?”

“I have a slight headache.”

Stasch laid his hand on her forehead. The little head was cold like the
hands, but that was a sign of unusual exhaustion and weakness, and so
the boy sighed and said:

“You must now have something hot to eat, and then you must lie down and
sleep until evening. At least the weather is good to-day, and not likely
to be as it was yesterday.”

But Nell gazed at him with terror.

“We surely are not going to spend the night here?”

“Not here, for the mangled horses are lying nearby; we will look for
some other tree, or else ride down into the gorge and build a better
fence than any in the world. You will sleep as quietly as at Port Said.”

But she folded her tiny hands and with tears in her eyes besought him to
ride on at once, for she said that in this awful place it would be
impossible for her to close her eyes and she would surely get sick.

She begged so earnestly, and as she looked into his eyes repeated over
and over again, “Stasch, please!” that at last he consented to do as she
wished.

“Then we will attempt to continue our journey through the gorge,” said
he, “for there it is shady. Only promise to tell me when your strength
gives out or when you feel weak.”

“It will not come to that! You can bind me to the saddle and I shall
have a good sleep.”

“No. I shall ride on the same horse with you. Kali and Mea will ride on
the others, and the donkey will carry the tent and the luggage.”

“Good! Good!”

“But as soon as breakfast is over you must take a little nap. Besides,
we can not start before noon, as there are many things to be done. The
horses must be caught, the tent folded, and the baggage repacked. We
shall have to leave some things behind, for we have only two horses
left. It will take a few hours to do all these things, and in the
meantime you will have a good sleep and feel stronger. It is going to be
a very warm day, but under the tree it will be shady.”

“And you—and Mea and Kali? I am so ashamed to be the only one to sleep
while you all have so much anxiety——”

“Never mind; after a while we can sleep. Don’t be worried on my account.
When in Port Said I frequently, during my examinations, passed entire
nights without sleep, but of course my father did not know it. My
friends took no rest either. But what a man can stand is of course out
of the question for a little fly like you. You have no idea how badly
you look to-day—as frail as glass. Your eyes and hair are all that
remain, and there is nothing left of your face.”

Although he said this jokingly, in his heart he was frightened, for in
broad daylight Nell really looked ill, and for the first time it
occurred to him that the poor child, if she continued to look like this,
not only might die, but was sure to die. At this thought his knees
trembled, for he suddenly felt that in case of her death he would have
no reason to live or to return to Port Said.

“For what would there be in life for me?” he continually thought.

He turned away for a minute, so that Nell should not see the look of
sadness and fear in his eyes, and then he went to the baggage, which was
piled up under the tree, took off the cloth which covered the
cartridge-case, opened it, and began to search for something.

It was there, in a little glass phial, that he kept the last quinine
powder and guarded it as the apple of his eye for a “dark hour”; that
is, in case Nell should take the fever. But now it was almost certain
that after such a night the first attack would come on, and so he
decided to take precautions against it. This he did with a heavy heart,
thinking of what might follow—and if he had not felt the impropriety of
a man and leader of a caravan weeping, he would surely have dissolved
into tears on parting with his last powder.

In order to hide his emotion he assumed a stern look, turned to the
girl, and said:

“Nell, I want you to take the rest of the quinine before you eat.”

“And if you get the fever?” she asked.

“Then I will shake myself. Take it, I say.”

She took it without further resistance; for since he had shot the
Sudanese she was a little afraid of him, notwithstanding the attention
and kindness he showed her. Then they all sat down to breakfast; and
after the toils of the night thoroughly enjoyed a plate of good soup.
Nell fell asleep as soon as the meal was finished and slept some hours.
Meanwhile Stasch, Kali, and Mea prepared the caravan for the journey,
brought the top part of the tent from the ravine, saddled the horses,
put the pack on the donkey, and hid under the roots of shrubs everything
they were unable to take with them. They were almost overcome with sleep
while performing these duties, so Stasch arranged that they should take
turns in having a short nap, fearing that otherwise they might go to
sleep during the journey.

It was about two o’clock when they set out again. Stasch held Nell in
front of him on the saddle and Kali rode with Mea on the second horse.
They did not ride straight into the gorge, but kept between its upper
side and the forest. The new jungle had grown considerably during this
last night of rain, but the ground under the new grass was black and
still bore traces of fire. It was easy to surmise that either Smain had
passed that way with his men, or that a fire, caused by lightning, had
swept over the dried jungle, and, having at last struck the wet forest,
had wound itself through the rather narrow course between it and the
ravine. Therefore Stasch tried to see whether traces of Smain’s
encampment or imprints of his horses’ hoofs could be found on this
route, and to his great joy he was convinced that nothing of the kind
was to be seen. Kali, who understood such things, insisted that the fire
must have been driven there by the wind more than ten days ago.

“That proves,” said Stasch, “that Smain is already heaven knows where
with his Mahdists—and that we can not possibly fall into his hands.”

He and Nell now began to look at the vegetation with some curiosity, for
they had never been in a tropical forest before. They rode along close
to the edge, so as to be in the shade. The ground was damp and soft, and
covered with dark green grass, moss, and ferns. Here and there lay old
rotten tree-trunks covered with a carpet of beautiful orchids,[17] with
cups colored like variegated butterflies in the center of their buds.
Wherever the sun shone the earth glittered with other strange tiny
orchids,[18] whose two petals, rising from a third petal, remind one of
the head of a small animal with pointed ears. In many places the forest
consisted of the shrubs of wild jasmine,[19] forming garlands of thin,
pink-colored tendrils. The wet paths and crevices were covered with
ferns, forming an impenetrable thicket. This underbrush was low in some
places, broad in others, and sometimes it grew tall and was encircled by
a kind of safflower, which in that case reached to the lowest branches
of the tree, giving an effect of fine green lace. In the interior of the
woods there were different kinds of trees. Date and bread trees, fan
palms, sycamores, large varieties of groundsel, acacias, trees with
dark, shining, bright blood-red foliage grew close together, stem to
stem, with branches and twigs from which yellow and purple flowers shot
forth like torches. In many places the tree-trunks were completely
hidden, being covered from head to foot with creepers, which swayed from
one branch to the other, forming the capital letters “W” and “M,” and
resembling festoons, curtains, or portières. India-rubber lianas[20]
nearly smothered the trees with their thousands of tendrils, and turned
them into pyramids clothed in white flowers. Small lianas wound
themselves round the larger ones, and the jungle was in some places so
thickly matted that it almost formed a barrier through which neither
human being nor animal could penetrate. Only here and there, in places
where elephants, whose strength nothing can withstand, had forced a
passage, were there gaps in the thicket, which looked like deep, winding
corridors. The song of the birds, which make the European forests so
charming, was absolutely lacking. On the other hand, there came from the
tops of the trees the most peculiar sounds, resembling at times the
sharp scraping of a saw, the hollow beating of pots and pans, the
chattering of storks, the squeaking of an old rusty door, the clapping
of hands, the mewing of cats, and even the loud and animated
conversation of human beings. From time to time a swarm of gray, green,
or white parrots or a multitude of colored pepper-eaters, with their
gliding, wave-like motion, swung themselves in the trees. On the
snow-white background of the india-rubber vines there sometimes crept
like forest spirits little monkeys in mourning, perfectly black, with
the exception of their white tails, white stripes on their sides, and
strange-looking white whiskers encasing their coal-black faces.

The children gazed with admiration and surprise at the forest, which the
eyes of a white man had perhaps never seen before. Saba constantly ran
under the bushes and barked cheerfully. Little Nell felt strengthened by
the quinine, her breakfast, and her sleep. Her little face was fresh and
somewhat rosy, and her eyes had a happier expression. Every minute she
asked Stasch the names of the various trees and birds, and he answered
her as best he could. At last she said that she would like to get off
the horse and pick quantities of flowers.

But the boy smiled and said:

“The ‘siafus’ would eat you up in a minute.”

“What’s that—‘siafus’? Is that something worse than a lion?”

“Worse and still not worse. They are ants that bite fearfully. The
branches are covered with them, and they fall like a shower of fire from
the trees and alight on one’s back. They crawl along the ground, too. If
you should try to get off your horse and go into the woods, you would
soon begin to hop about and scream like a little monkey. One might more
easily protect one’s self from a lion. Sometimes they come in large
swarms, and then everything gives way before them.”

“But you could surely prevent them doing you any harm!”

“I? Why certainly I could.”

“How?”

“With fire or boiling water.”

“You always know how to defend yourself,” she said, thoroughly
convinced.

Stasch felt very much flattered at these words, and so answered in a
cheerful voice:

“If you only keep well you can rely on me for the rest.”

“I have not even a headache now.”

“Thank heaven! Thank heaven!”

During this conversation they were riding on the border of the forest,
which was only divided from the narrow pass by a hedge. The sun was
still high in the heavens, and its scorching rays beat down on them, for
the weather was fine, and there was not a cloud above the horizon. The
horses were sweating profusely, and Nell began to complain of the heat.
And so Stasch, seeing a suitable place, turned into the gorge, the west
side of which was now completely shady. The water still left in the
hollows after the storm of the previous day was now fairly cold. Over
the heads of the little wanderers there continually flew—from one side
of the gorge to the other—pepper-eaters with purple heads, blue
breasts, and yellow wings, and the boy began to tell Nell what he had
read in books about their habits.

“You know,” he said, “there are pepper-eaters which, in the brooding
season, find a cavity in a tree, and the female then carries the eggs
there and sets on them, and the male closes the opening with clay so
that only the head of the female is visible, and not until the young
ones are hatched does he break the wall of clay with his large beak and
give the female her liberty again.”

“And what does she have to eat all this time?”

“The male feeds her. He flies about constantly and brings her various
kinds of berries.”

“And is she allowed to sleep?” asked Nell in a sleepy voice.

Stasch smiled.

“If Mrs. Pepper-eater is as sleepy as you are, then the male permits her
to go to sleep.”

In the coolness of the gorge the girl was suddenly overcome by
drowsiness, for her nap that morning had been too short, and she needed
more sleep. In fact, Stasch really had a great mind to follow her
example, but could not, because he had to hold fast to her for fear she
might fall, and besides he was very uncomfortably seated, riding astride
on the broad, flat saddle which Hatim and Seki Tamala had made in
Fashoda for the little girl. He hardly dared move, and he guided the
horse as slowly as possible so as not to wake her up.

And she leaned back, laid her small head on his shoulder, and fell sound
asleep. But she breathed so quietly and evenly that Stasch did not
regret having given her the last small quinine powder. On hearing her
deep breathing he felt that for the present the danger of fever was
over, and he began to make the following observations:

“The bed of the gorge leads continually up hill, and just at this
particular spot it is rather steep. We have climbed higher and higher,
and the ground is much drier than below. We must now search for a high
and well-sheltered place near a rapid stream, and settle down there,
give the little one a few weeks in which to recover, and perhaps we
shall be obliged to wait until the ‘massika’[21] is over. Few girls
would have borne up under a tenth part of these trials, and she must
take a good rest. After a night such as we have passed through any other
girl would have come right down with the fever, but she—how soundly she
sleeps! Thank God!”

These thoughts encouraged him, but though he spoke cheerfully to himself
while gazing on Nell’s head reposing on his shoulder, he was also
surprised at his emotions.

“It really is strange how fond I am of this little one. I have always
been fond of her, but now I care more and more.”

And as he did not know how to account for this he reflected as follows:

“This is probably due to the fact that we have undergone so many dangers
together, and also because she happens to be in my care.”

While meditating thus he held the child very carefully, with his right
hand in her belt, so that she could not fall out of the saddle. They
rode on slowly and silently, and Kali whispered in Stasch’s ear these
flattering words:

“The Great Man kills Gebhr, kills lion, and buffalo. Yah! Yah! The Great
Man will kill many lions. Plenty of meat! Plenty of meat! Yah! Yah!”

“Kali,” asked Stasch softly, “do the Wa-himas hunt lions, too?”

“Wa-hima afraid of lions, but Wa-hima dig deep trenches, and if a lion
falls into them during the night, why then Wa-hima laughs.”

“What would you do then?”

“Wa-hima throw many spears until the lion like a porcupine, then drag
him out of the trench and eat him. Lion good.” And, as was his custom,
he stroked his stomach.

This way of killing lions did not appeal strongly to Stasch, so he began
to question Kali as to what other kind of game was to be found in the
land of the Wa-hima; and so they talked more about antelopes, ostriches,
giraffes, and rhinoceroses until they heard the splashing of a
waterfall.

“What’s that?” cried Stasch. “In front of us is a stream and a
waterfall, too!”

Kali nodded his head as a sign that it was really so.

For a time they rode on, quickening their pace and listening intently to
the rushing of the water, which was heard more distinctly every minute.

“A waterfall!” repeated Stasch, who was much interested. But they had
scarcely passed through one or two bends in the gorge when they suddenly
perceived an insurmountable obstacle lying across their path.

Nell, who had been lulled to sleep by the regular motion of the horse,
awoke at once.

“Are we stopping to put up here for the night?” she asked.

“No; but look!” answered Stasch. “See, a rock is lying across the
gorge!”

“What can we do?”

“It is impossible to creep alongside of the rock, for it is very narrow
just here, and so we must turn back a little way and try to climb to the
top and go around it; but as there are still two hours before night-fall
we have plenty of time, and this will give the horses a chance to get
their wind. Do you hear the waterfall?”

“I hear it.”

“That’s where we’ll halt for the night.”

He then turned to Kali and ordered him to climb up the side of the
narrow pass to see whether the bottom of the gorge was blocked with more
obstacles. As for Stasch, he began to inspect the rock very carefully,
and after a while he exclaimed:

“It must have broken off and fallen down here very recently. Do you see
where it has broken off, Nell? See how fresh the break is. There is not
even moss or in fact any other kind of plant to be seen on it. I
understand now—I understand!”

And with his hand he pointed to a baobab-tree growing on the side of the
ravine, its enormous roots hanging down over the side of the cliff where
the rock had broken off.

“This root has forced its way through a crevice between the wall and the
rock and has grown so long and so thick that it has split the rock off.
That seems strange, for stone is harder than wood, but I do know that
such things happen in the mountains. A rock like this, which has
scarcely any hold, breaks off at the least jar.”

“But what could have jarred it so?”

“That’s difficult to say. Perhaps a previous storm, perhaps yesterday’s
rain.”

Saba had remained behind the caravan, but now he came running up, as if
some one were pulling him back by the tail, sniffed, squeezed himself
through the small passage between the hedge and the fallen rock, and
then immediately began to back out, his hair standing on end.

Stasch dismounted to see what had frightened the dog.

“Stasch, don’t go,” begged Nell; “perhaps there is a lion there.”

But the boy, who loved to boast of his wonderful deeds, and who since
the events of the day before had been greatly enraged against lions,
answered:

“That’s great! A lion—by day!”

But before he had time to approach the passage Kali’s voice was heard
from above the gorge.

“Bwana Kubwa! Bwana Kubwa!”

“What’s the matter?” cried Stasch.

In a moment the negro slid down the stalk of a creeper. It could easily
be seen from his face that he was the bearer of some great news.

“An elephant!” he exclaimed.

“An elephant?”

“Yes,” answered the young negro, gesticulating with his hands; “over
there rushing water and here cliffs. Elephant can not get out. The Great
Man kill elephant and Kali eat him—oh, eat! eat!”

This thought made him so happy that he began to jump around, to smack
his lips and slap his knees and to laugh like an idiot, at the same time
rolling his eyes and showing his white teeth.

Stasch did not understand at first why Kali said that the elephant could
not escape from the gorge, so to make sure of what had happened he
mounted his horse, and giving Nell into Mea’s care, so that he could
have both hands free in case it were necessary to shoot, he ordered Kali
to mount behind him; then they all turned back and began to look for a
place where they could climb up. On the way, Stasch asked how the
elephant could have got in there, and from Kali’s answer he surmised
what had really happened.

Apparently the elephant had sought refuge from the flames during the
forest fire, and on his way knocked against the rock, which, being
insecure, had fallen down and cut off all means of his return. On
running further he had come to the end of the narrow pass and found
himself on the edge of the abyss, through which the stream flowed, and
was thus hemmed in.

After a short time they discovered a way out of the gorge, but as it was
rather steep, it was necessary to dismount and lead the horses. As the
negro assured them that the stream was not far off, they continued to
walk on until they reached the top. At last they came to a high strip of
land, which was bordered on the one side by the stream and on the other
by the ravine, and then looking down into the depth, they saw the
elephant on the flat ground.

The huge animal lay on its stomach, and Stasch was very much astonished
that he did not jump up when he caught sight of them, for, as Saba made
a dash for the edge of the narrow pass and began to bark, the beast only
moved his enormous ears once, and raising his trunk, immediately let it
fall again.

The children held each other’s hands tight, and looked at him a long
while in silence, until Kali said:

“He hunger, die.”

In fact, the elephant had become so thin that the whole length of his
backbone stood out like a comb; his sides were hollow, and beneath his
hide, notwithstanding its thickness, his ribs could be plainly seen, and
it was easy to conjecture that the reason he did not get up was because
his strength was exhausted.

The gorge, fairly broad at the entrance, changed into a small pocket,
closed in on both sides by perpendicular cliffs, at the bottom of which
grew a few trees. These trees had been broken off, their bark was torn
off and not a leaf remained. Nearly all the vines that had overhung the
cliffs had been eaten and the grass throughout the entire pocket had
been uprooted and eaten, even to the very last blade.

After Stasch had taken in the whole situation he began to narrate to
Nell what he had seen, but as he thought that the huge animal was doomed
to die, he spoke very softly, as if afraid of darkening the last hours
of his life.

“Yes, he is really dying of hunger. Probably he has been a prisoner here
for the last two weeks, since the time when the forest fire burned up
the old jungle. He has eaten up everything that was eatable, and now he
is being slowly tormented to death, for he can see bread-fruit trees and
acacias growing above him, but is unable to reach them.”

And once more they looked down in silence for a while at the elephant,
who every now and then turned his small, dying eyes toward them, and
each time a sound like a sob escaped from his throat.

“Really,” the boy said, “it would be a mercy to put an end to his
suffering.”

At these words he raised the rifle to his shoulder, but Nell caught him
by the coat, and standing right in front of him, used all her force to
drag him away from the edge of the ravine.

“Stasch, don’t do it! Give him something to eat! He is so thin! I will
not let you shoot him! I will not, I will not!”

And stamping still more emphatically with her foot, she continued to
pull him away. He looked at her in surprise, but on seeing tears in her
eyes, said:

“But, Nell——”

“I will not allow it. I will not let him be killed! If you kill him, I
shall get the fever!”

This threat sufficed to make Stasch abandon his murderous intentions in
regard to this elephant and others as well. In fact, he remained silent
for a while, as he did not know what to answer the child; then he said:

“Well, all right! All right! I tell you, it is all right! Nell! let me
go!”

And Nell at once embraced him and a smile shone out of her tear-stained
little eyes. Her only care now was to give the elephant some food as
soon as possible. Kali and Mea were very much surprised on hearing that
“Bwana Kubwa” was not only not going to shoot the elephant, but that
they must straightway pick the fruit of the bread-tree, the pods of the
acacia, and various herbs, leaves and grass, as much as they could
collect. Gebhr’s double-bladed Sudanese sword greatly aided Kali in
accomplishing this task, for without it the work would have been by no
means easy. But Nell did not want to wait until they had finished, and
as soon as the first fruit fell from the breadfruit tree she grasped it
with both hands, carried it to the gorge, and repeated quickly to
herself, as if afraid that any one else should get there first:

“I! I! I!”

But Stasch had no thought of depriving her of this pleasure; on the
contrary, he took hold of her belt, for fear that in her great
excitement she might fall over the edge of the cliff together with her
bread-fruit, and cried:

“Throw it down!”

The enormous fruit rolled over the steep precipice and fell at the feet
of the elephant, who immediately put out his trunk, picked it up and
crunched it as if eager to swallow it at once, and it disappeared
instantly.

“He has eaten it up!” cried Nell, overjoyed.

“I should say so!” answered Stasch, laughingly.

The elephant now put out his trunk toward them, as if asking for more,
and then could be heard his “Hrrumff!”

“He wants more yet!”

“I should think he did!” replied Stasch.

A second fruit now disappeared like the first, followed by a third,
fourth—tenth; then in rapid succession he ate acacia-pods, big bundles
of grass, and various kinds of leaves. Nell, would not permit any one to
replace her, and when at last her little hands became tired, she still
pushed more food down to him with her feet. The elephant continued
eating, and it was only now and then, between mouthfuls, that he raised
his trunk and gave forth a thundering “Hrrumff,” to denote that he
wanted more, and, as Nell felt certain, to show his gratitude.

At last Kali and Mea got tired of this work, which they had performed
very faithfully, and they silently hoped that “Bwana Kubwa” would fatten
the elephant and kill him later. At last “Bwana Kubwa” told them to
stop, for the sun had now sunk quite low and it was time to begin the
construction of the hedge. Luckily it was not very difficult, for two
sides of the three-cornered strips of land were inaccessible, so that
only the third one needed to be fenced in, and plenty of acacias with
their terrible thorns grew nearby.

Nell did not move an inch from the gorge, and crouching on its edge,
with her legs tightly crossed, she informed Stasch, who was some
distance away, what the elephant was doing—and her thin little voice
continually rang out:

“He is feeling around with his trunk!” or “He is moving his ears. He has
enormous ears!”

Then at last: “Stasch! Stasch! He is getting up! Oh!”

Stasch approached quickly and took Nell by the hand. In truth, the
elephant had really gotten up, and only now could the children see his
enormous size. They had occasionally seen large elephants being taken in
ships through the Suez Canal on their way from India to Europe, but not
one of them could compare with this colossus in size, for he really
looked like a large slate-colored, four-footed rock. He differed from
those they had seen in having enormous tusks five feet or more long,
and, as Nell had already said, fabulously large ears. His front legs
were very long, but comparatively thin, which was probably due to his
having fasted so many days.

“Oh, what a Liliputian!” cried Stasch; “if he were to take a good
stretch and throw out his trunk to its full length he could catch hold
of your little foot.”

But the giant neither thought of stretching himself nor of catching any
one by the foot. With uncertain steps he advanced toward the entrance to
the gorge and looked for a while down into the ravine, at the bottom of
which the waters whirled; then he turned toward the side nearest the
waterfall, sat down on his stomach, put out his trunk into the water,
dipped it down deep, and began to drink.

“It was lucky for him,” said Stasch, “that he could reach down into the
water with his trunk. Otherwise he would have died.”

The elephant drank so long that the girl became alarmed.

“Stasch, will he not harm himself?” said she.

“I don’t know,” he answered smilingly; “but as you have taken him under
your special care you should warn him now.”

And so Nell bent over the side and called:

“Enough, dear elephant, enough!”

And the “dear elephant,” as if he understood what was meant, immediately
stopped drinking, and at once began to spray himself with the water,
first his legs, then his back, and lastly his two sides.

In the meanwhile it began to get dark, and so Stasch guided the little
girl back to the hedge, where supper was already awaiting them.

Both children were in the best of humor—Nell, because she had saved the
elephant’s life, and Stasch, because he saw her small eyes gleaming like
stars and her happy little face looking fresher and healthier than it
had since their departure from Khartum. What also added to the
satisfaction of the boy was that he had promised himself a quiet and
good night’s rest. The strip of land, inaccessible on two sides, ensured
them from attack from those directions, and on the third side Kali and
Mea had erected such a high hedge out of prickly acacias and branches of
passiflora[22] that there was no possibility of any beast of prey being
able to break through the barrier. Besides the weather was fine, and
soon after sunset the sky was studded with stars. It was very pleasant
to be cooled off by being in the proximity of the waterfall, and to
breathe the heavy fragrance of the jungle and the freshly broken off
branches.

“The ‘fly’ will not get the fever here!” thought Stasch joyfully.

They began to talk about the elephant, for Nell could speak of nothing
else, and she continually expressed her admiration for his huge size,
his trunk, and his tusks, which really were enormous. At last she said:

“How wise he is, Stasch, isn’t he?”

“As wise as Solomon,” replied Stasch. “But how did you find that out?”

“Because, when I asked him to stop drinking, he immediately complied
with my request.”

“If he had never taken lessons in the English language before, and
understands what you said to him, then indeed it is quite remarkable.”

Nell perceived that Stasch was making fun of her, so she fondled him
like a little kitten, and said:

“Say what you like, but I’m certain that he is very wise, and that he
can be readily tamed at once.”

“Whether readily and at once I’m not sure, but he can be tamed. The
African elephant is wilder than the Asiatic, but I believe that
Hannibal, for instance, used African beasts.”

“Who was Hannibal?”

Stasch looked indulgently and pityingly at her.

“Of course,” he said, “at your age you are not expected to
know—Hannibal was a great leader of the Carthaginian army, which used
elephants in the war with the Romans, and as Carthage was in Africa, he
was obliged to use African elephants.”

The conversation was interrupted by a tremendous trumpeting of the
elephant, which, after having satisfied his hunger and thirst,
began—either from joy or longing to be free—to signal with his trunk.
Saba sat up and began to bark, and Stasch said:

“See what you have done? Now he is calling his friends. A nice story if
a whole herd were to approach.”

“He will tell the others that we were good to him,” answered Nell
hastily.

But Stasch, who really was not at all worried (because he reckoned that,
even if several were to come along, the light of the fire would frighten
them away), laughed defiantly and said:

“Well, well! But if elephants should appear, you will not cry for fear;
oh, no!—your eyes would only perspire as they have done twice before!”

And he began to imitate her:

“I’m not crying, only my eyes perspire so!”

When Nell saw that he was joking she concluded that they were in no
danger.

“If we tame him,” she said, “then my eyes will not perspire any more,
even if ten lions should roar.”

“Why?”

“Because he will protect us.”

Stasch quieted Saba, who had continued to bark in answer to the
elephant’s trumpeting, then thought a while and continued:

“But, Nell, there is one thing that you did not think of. We shall not
stay here forever; we must ride on further. I do not say immediately—on
the contrary. This place is very convenient and healthy, so I have
decided to remain here one week—perhaps two—for you and I and in fact
all of us need a good rest. Well, all right! As long as we stay here we
will feed the elephant, although this is an enormous task for us all. He
is imprisoned, and we can not take him with us. But how will this end?
We shall go away and he will stay here and starve once more, until he
succumbs. And of course we will grieve even more than we would now.”

Nell felt very sad, and for a time sat there silently, apparently not
knowing what answer to make to these very sensible remarks, but soon she
raised her head, and pushing aside the lock of hair which always fell
over her forehead into her eyes, she turned her eyes confidently toward
the boy.

“I know,” she said, “that you could get him out of the gorge if you only
wanted to.”

“Yes?”

But she put out a finger, touched Stasch’s hand, and repeated:

“Yes! Yes! Yes!”

The small and clever little lady knew quite well that the boy would be
flattered by her confidence in him and that from now on he would
earnestly consider how to release the elephant.

-----

Footnote 17:

Auselia Africana.

Footnote 18:

Lissohibso.

Footnote 19:

Jasminum trifoliatum.

Footnote 20:

Landolphia florida.

Footnote 21:

The spring rainy season.

Footnote 22:

Odenia globosa.


                               CHAPTER V

The night passed quietly, for although there was a bank of clouds toward
the south, the morning was clear.

Following Stasch’s orders, Kali and Mea busied themselves after
breakfast gathering the fruit of the breadfruit tree, acacia pods, fresh
leaves, grass and roots of all kinds of eatables for the elephant, and
laid them down on the edge of the gorge. As Nell wanted very much to
feed her new friend herself, Stasch cut from a young, wide-branched
melon-tree a kind of pitchfork, so that she could more easily throw the
provisions into the bottom of the ravine. The elephant had been
trumpeting since early morning, for he was evidently hungry, and when he
saw on the edge of the cliff the same little white creature who fed him
the day before, he greeted her by making a joyful sound and immediately
stretched out his trunk toward her. In the morning sunshine the children
thought he looked even taller than the day before. Although he was very
thin, he seemed somewhat stronger now, and his tiny eyes looked almost
merrily at Nell. She even insisted that his forelegs had grown stouter
over night, and she made such haste to throw the food down to him that
Stasch was obliged to restrain her, for she finally became greatly
overheated and he had to take her place. Both children were having a
very good time, and they were especially amused at the queer faces the
elephant made. At first the animal ate everything indiscriminately that
fell at his feet, but when his hunger was somewhat appeased he was more
discriminating. When plants were given to him that he did not like, he
pushed them away with his forefeet and tossed them in the air with his
trunk, as though trying to say: “These delicacies I reserve for you up
there to eat.” Finally, after the beast had satisfied his hunger and
quenched his thirst, he began to slap his huge ears with great
satisfaction.

“I am sure,” said Nell, “that he would not hurt us now if we went down
to him,” and in order to make sure she called down to the elephant:

“Elephant, dear elephant, you would not hurt us, would you?”

And as the elephant moved his trunk as if in answer, she turned
triumphantly to Stasch: “Look! He says ‘Yes!’ ”

“Perhaps so,” replied Stasch; “elephants are very intelligent animals,
and this one has evidently come to the conclusion that we are necessary
for his welfare. Who can say whether he may not be a little grateful to
us? It is better not to attempt it now, and certainly Saba would not
dare do it, for he would be killed at once. Perhaps in time they may
become friends.”

All further conversation about the beauty of the elephant was cut short
by Kali, who, foreseeing that he would have to work hard every day to
obtain food for the beast, approached Stasch, smiled cheerfully, and
said:

“Great Man kill elephant and Kali eat him, instead of gathering grass
and branches for him.”

But the “Great Man’s” thoughts were miles away from killing the
elephant, and as he had a very happy disposition, he replied while
standing there:

“You’re a donkey.”

Unfortunately he had forgotten the word for “donkey” in the Ki-swahili
language—so he used the English word “donkey” and Kali, who did not
understand any English, concluded that this name was applied to him as a
compliment or a reward, for the children soon saw him turn toward Mea
and heard him bragging as follows:

“Mea has black skin and black head and Kali is a donkey.”

Then he continued, with pride:

“The Great Man himself said that Kali was a donkey.”

Stasch, after ordering them both to guard the young lady like the apple
of their eye, and to call him at once should anything happen, grasped
his rifle and started off toward the fallen rock that blocked up the
gorge. When he reached the spot he examined everything very carefully,
inspected all the cracks, put a twig into a crevice which he discovered
in the lower part of the rock and measured its depth exactly, then he
slowly returned to the camping place, opened his cartridge-case and
began to count the cartridges.

Scarcely had he counted three hundred when from out of a tall
baobab-tree near by, about five hundred feet from the tent, he heard
Mea’s voice crying:

“Sir! Sir!”

Stasch approached the big tree, the hollowed-out trunk of which
resembled a tomb, and asked:

“What do you want?”

“There are many zebras to be seen not far from here, and further off
antelopes also.”

“Good. I will take my gun and go after them, for we must have some meat
to smoke. But why did you climb up in the tree and what are you doing up
there?”

The girl answered in a sad, drawling voice:

“Mea saw a nest of gray parrots and wanted to bring the young ones to
the little lady, but the nest is empty, and so Mea will not get any
glass beads for her neck.”

“You will get some because you love the little lady.”

The young negress slid down hastily over the rugged tree bark, and with
eyes beaming with joy she called repeatedly:

“Oh, yes, yes! Mea loves the little lady very much, and she also loves
glass beads!”

Stasch stroked her head kindly, then he took the rifle, closed the
cartridge-case, and went in the direction where the zebras were grazing.
After half an hour had elapsed the crack of a shot sounded in the
camping-place, and at the end of an hour the young hunter returned with
the good news that not only zebras, but numerous herds of antelope and
small groups of water-bucks were feeding near the river.

Then he ordered Kali to take a horse with him and get the animal which
had been killed, while he himself carefully examined the huge trunk of
the baobab-tree and began to test the rugged bark with the end of his
rifle.

“What are you doing?” asked Nell.

He answered:

“Look, what a giant! Fifteen people holding one another’s hands could
not encircle this tree, which perhaps dates back to the time of Pharao.
But the lower part of the trunk is rotten and hollow. You see this
opening is large enough for any one to pass through. One could make a
sort of large room in there, where we all could live together. That
occurred to me when I saw Mea up in the branches, and while I was
silently approaching the zebras the plan continually recurred to me.”

“But we must hurry on to Abyssinia.”

“Yes. But we must rest also, and as I told you yesterday, I have decided
to stay here a week or two. You would not want to leave your elephant,
and on your account I am afraid of the rainy season, which has already
begun, when you will surely get the fever. The weather is fine to-day,
but you see that the clouds are gathering, and who knows if the rain
will not come before evening. The tent is not sufficient shelter for
you, and within this giant tree, provided it be not hollow to the very
top, we shall be able to laugh at the worst downpour. It would be much
safer for us within it than in the tent, for if we were to stuff this
opening and the windows, which we would have to make for light, with
thorns every evening, any number of lions could roar around the tree.
The rainy season only lasts a month during the spring, and I am still of
the opinion that we should wait until it is over. If we have to wait we
had better wait here in this giant tree than under a tent or anywhere
else.”

As Nell always acquiesced in Stasch’s plans, she assented now,
especially as she was delighted with the plan of remaining near the
elephant and living in the tree. She began at once to think how she
could arrange the rooms, how furnish them, and how they would then
invite each other to “five o’clocks” and dinners. Finally they both
became merry, and Nell immediately wanted to take a look at the new
house, but Stasch, who had learned day by day from experience to be
cautious, prevented her from proceeding in too great haste.

“Before we take possession of the house,” said he, “we must beg the
present inhabitants, if there are any there, kindly to depart.”

After this he ordered Mea to throw several lighted branches, which being
green smoked profusely, into the interior of the tree. It was well he
did so, for the giant tree was indeed inhabited, and by tenants whose
hospitality could not be depended upon.


                               CHAPTER VI

The tree had two openings, a large one half a yard from the ground, and
a smaller one, somewhere about the height of the first story of a town
house. Hardly had Mea thrown the burning branches into the lower one
than large bats began to fly out of the top one, and, blinded by the
sun, they circled around the tree, screaming as loud as they could. But
the real master of the house soon wriggled out of the lower opening, and
it proved to be an enormous boa-constrictor, which, though apparently
still half asleep, had devoured the remnants of its last feast, and not
until the smoke reached its nostrils had it awakened and sought safety.
At the sight of this iron-colored body squirming out of the smoking
tree-hollow, uncoiling itself like an enormous spring, Stasch picked
Nell up in his arms and started to run away with her in the direction of
the open wilderness. The reptile, itself frightened by the smoke and
fire, did not follow them, but wended its way through the grass and the
piles of baggage and disappeared very swiftly in the direction of the
gorge, to hide itself in the crevices of the rocks. The children
regained their courage. Stasch set Nell on the ground, hurried to fetch
his rifle, and then ran in the direction of the gorge after the snake.
Nell followed close behind. After going a short distance they beheld
such an extraordinary sight that they both stood rooted to the ground.
High above the gorge the body of the snake appeared for an instant,
wriggled in the air, then fell to the ground. After a while it appeared
a second time, then fell down again. When the children reached the edge
of the ravine they saw to their surprise that their new friend, the
elephant, was playing with the snake, and after having thrown it in the
air twice, he was now stamping on its head with his feet, which
resembled blocks of wood. Having finished this performance, he lifted
the still squirming body with his trunk; this time he did not throw it
into the air, but right into the waterfall. Then he swayed from side to
side, fanned himself with his ears, and began to fix his eyes on Nell,
and at last put out his trunk toward her, as if demanding a reward for
his heroic and sensible deed.

[Illustration:  “At the sight of the boa-constrictor squirming out of
the smoking tree-hollow, uncoiling itself like an enormous spring,
Stasch picked up Nell in his arms and started to run away.” ]

Nell immediately ran toward the tent and returned with a quantity of
wild figs, a few of which she threw to him. He picked them up carefully
and swallowed one after another. Those that fell into deep crevices he
picked up by blowing into the cracks with such force that stones the
size of one’s fist flew into the air along with the figs. The children
showed their appreciation of these tricks by laughing and clapping their
hands. Nell repeatedly brought more food, and every time she threw a fig
down she maintained that he was quite tame now, and that it would be
safe for her to go down to him.

“Do you see, Stasch, now we shall have a protector—for he is afraid of
nothing in the wilderness, not even of a lion or a snake, or a
crocodile. Besides, he is very good—and surely he ought to be fond of
us.”

“If he should become tame,” said Stasch, “so that I might leave you in
his care, I would not be afraid to go off hunting, for I could not find
a better protector for you in the whole of Africa.”

After a while he continued:

“It is a fact that the elephants of Africa are wilder, but I have read
that the Asiatic ones, for instance, have a peculiar weakness for
children. In India there has never been a case of an elephant hurting a
child, and when one of these animals becomes enraged, as sometimes
happens, children are sent to appease it.”

“So you see, you see!”

“At any rate, you were right in preventing me from killing him.”

Thereupon Nell’s eyes shone with joy. Standing on tip-toe, she laid both
hands on Stasch’s shoulders, and leaning her head back and looking into
his eyes, she asked:

“I behaved as if I were—how old? Tell me! As if I were—how old?”

And he answered:

“At least seventy.”

“You do nothing but joke.”

“Well, be angry! be angry! But who will release the elephant?”

On hearing this Nell clung to him like a young kitten.

“You!—and I shall love you very much for it, and so will he.”

“I have already thought about it,” said Stasch; “but it will be a very
troublesome thing to do. I shall not do it now, but only when we are
ready to continue our journey.”

“Why?”

“For this reason: because if I should release him before he is quite
tame and before he has got used to us, he would immediately run away.”

“Oh! he will not leave me.”

“Do you think he is as fond of you as I am?” replied Stasch somewhat
impatiently.

All further conversation was interrupted by the approach of Kali, who
brought the slain zebra with its young one, which had been bitten to
death by Saba. It was a lucky thing for the bulldog that he had followed
Kali, and had therefore not been present at the routing out of the
snake, for the dog would have followed it, and had he come within its
reach would have been squeezed to death in its coils long before Stasch
could have come to the rescue. He received a box on the ears from Stasch
for having torn to pieces the young zebra, but he did not seem to take
this very much to heart, for he did not even put in his tongue, which
had been hanging out ever since he came from the chase.

Meanwhile Stasch gave Kali to understand that he intended to arrange a
dwelling-place in the tree, and told him what had happened when smoking
out the tree-trunk, and what the elephant had done to the snake. The
thought of living in the giant tree, which not only served as a
protection against the rain, but also against wild animals, pleased the
negro very much, but, on the other hand, the elephant’s behavior did not
at all meet with his approval.

“The elephant is stupid,” said he, “and therefore he threw the ‘nioka’
(snake) into the rushing waters, but Kali knows that ‘nioka’ is very
good to eat, and so he will fish it out of the water and roast it, for
Kali is clever—and a donkey.”

“Yes, you are a donkey, all right,” answered Stasch. “You surely do not
want to eat a snake.”

“Nioka is good,” said Kali.

And pointing to the dead zebra, he added:

“Better than this nyama.”

Then they both walked toward the baobab-tree and began to arrange the
house. Kali took a flat stone, the shape of a large sieve, from the bank
of the river, laid it down inside the tree-trunk, and put more and more
burning wood on it, taking care that the rotten wood in the inside of
the tree did not catch fire, which would have set the entire tree
ablaze. He said that he did this so that nothing could bite the “Great
Man” and the little “Bibi.” It was soon apparent that this was no
unnecessary precaution, for no sooner had the wreaths of smoke filled
the interior of the tree and rushed out than all kinds of vermin began
to creep out of the broken bark—black and cherry-colored beetles,
plum-sized hairy spiders, caterpillars covered with finger-long prickly
hairs, and all sorts of horrible poisonous vermin, whose bite might even
cause death. From what was taking place on the exterior of the trunk, it
could readily be imagined that many similar insects were meeting their
fate in the clouds of smoke within, and the insects which fell to the
grass from the bark and the lower branches were unmercifully killed with
stones by Kali, who all the time stared fixedly at the two openings in
the hollow trunk as if afraid that some strange creature would appear at
any minute.

“Why do you look like that?” asked Stasch; “do you believe that there is
another snake hidden in the tree?”

“No; Kali is afraid of ‘Msimu.’ ”

“What’s that, ‘Msimu’?”

“Evil spirit.”

“Have you ever seen a Msimu?”

“No, but Kali has heard the dreadful noise made by Msimu in the
sorcerers’ huts.”

“So your sorcerers are not afraid of him?”

“The sorcerers fully believe in him; they enter our huts and tell us
that Msimu is angry, and the negroes bring them bananas, honey, pombe (a
beer made from a certain plant), eggs and meat, with which to propitiate
Msimu.”

Stasch raised his eyebrows.

“I should think it would be delightful to be one of your sorcerers. But
could this snake have been Msimu?”

Kali shook his head.

“If this had been so the elephant would not have killed Msimu, but Msimu
would have killed the elephant. Msimu is dead.”

A weird crackling sound suddenly interrupted him. From the lower cavity
in the tree came a strange-looking cloud of red dust; after which the
crackling became louder.

Kali at once prostrated himself on his face and began to scream in
terror:

“Aka! Msimu! Aka! Aka! Aka!”

At first Stasch drew back, too, but he soon regained his composure, and
when Nell and Mea came running up he explained the probable cause to
them.

“It is most likely,” he said, “that layers of mold, loosened by the
heat, have fallen down and smothered the fire. But Kali believes it was
Msimu. Mea shall pour water into the cavity, for if the fire is not
smothered and the mold should ignite, it might burst out and the whole
tree be consumed.”

Stasch saw that Kali still lay prostrate in terror, repeating “Aka!
Aka!” so he picked up his rifle, shot into the cavity, then touched the
boy with the butt of the gun and said:

“Your Msimu is shot. Don’t be frightened.”

Kali raised himself a little, but remained on his knees.

“O great, great sir! Is the master not even afraid of Msimu?”

Stasch’s reply was a laugh.

After a while the negro became calm, and sat down to the meal prepared
by Mea. It was very evident that his momentary fright had not affected
his appetite, for in addition to a substantial helping of smoked meat he
ate the raw liver of the young zebra, not to mention the wild figs,
quantities of which grew on a neighboring sycamore. Then he and Stasch
returned to the tree, where there was still plenty of work to be done,
for it took more than two hours to take out the mold and ashes, the
burned bats, the piles of roasted beetles, and other large insects.

Stasch wondered how the bats could have lived in such close proximity to
the snake, but he concluded that the monster either disdained such small
prey or could not reach it, being unable to uncoil itself inside the
tree. The heat had caused the layers of mold to break off, and thus
cleaned out the interior very thoroughly. Stasch was delighted to see
this, for the cavity was as spacious as a large room, and would be big
enough not only to shelter four persons, but ten. The lower opening
formed a door; the upper, a window; and consequently it was neither dark
nor stuffy in the giant tree. Stasch decided to divide the interior into
two rooms by means of the tent canvas; one of these he intended for Nell
and Mea and the other for himself, Kali, and Saba. The tree was not
decayed at the top, therefore no rain could penetrate it, and in order
to make it completely waterproof it was only necessary to raise and prop
the bark slightly over both openings, so as to form two gutters. They
decided to strew the floor inside with sun-dried sand from the bank of
the stream, and to cover this with a padding of dry moss.

This was very hard work, especially for Kali, for he had also to smoke
the meat, water the horses, and supply food for them all, as well as for
the elephant, who continually reminded them of it by trumpeting. But the
young negro set to work with great zest and industry arranging their new
abode. The reason for his industry was discovered by Stasch that very
day.

“If the Great Man and Bibi,” said he, with his hands on his hips, “are
to live in the tree, Kali will not have to build a large hedge for the
night, and so he will have nothing to do in the evening.”

“So you like being idle, eh?” said Stasch.

“Kali is a man, and so he likes to be idle, for only women should work.”

“And yet you see that I work for Bibi.”

“But, on the other hand, Bibi will have to work for the Great Man when
she grows up—and should she refuse, the Great Man will surely beat
her.”

At the very thought of this Stasch sprang up and cried angrily:

“You fool, do you know what ‘Bibi’ is?”

“I don’t know,” answered the frightened boy.

“Bibi is—is—a good Msimu.”

At this Kali fairly staggered.

On finishing his work he walked shyly up to Nell, prostrated himself on
his face before her, and began in a beseeching, if not a frightened
voice, to repeat:

“Aka! Aka! Aka!”

And the “good Msimu” looked at him wonderingly with her lovely sea-green
eyes, for she could not understand what had happened, and what was the
matter with Kali.


                              CHAPTER VII

The new dwelling-place, which Stasch had named “Cracow,” was all ready
for them in three days. Most of the baggage had been placed in “the
men’s room,” and even before the house was ready the four youngsters
were well sheltered there during a severe storm. The rainy season had
now set in in earnest. This rain is not like our long autumnal storms,
when the sky is covered over with lowering clouds and the monotonous,
dreary weather lasts for weeks. Here the dense clouds which water the
earth so plentifully are dissipated by the wind several times a day.
Then the sun shines again as though just emerging from a bath and floods
the cliffs, the stream, the trees, and the entire jungle with its golden
light. One can almost see the grass grow. The foliage on the trees is
luxuriant, and before one fruit drops off another is forming. The
excessive moisture in the air makes it so transparent that even far-off
objects stand out distinctly and one can see to a great distance. On the
horizon there are beautiful rainbows, the colors of which are always
reflected in the waterfall.

During the short dawn and the twilight the sky shone and reflected a
thousand bright colors more wonderful than the children had ever seen
even in the Libyan desert. The clouds hanging down nearest the water
were cherry-colored, and the higher regions, better lighted, looked like
seas of purple and gold, and the small, puffy clouds shone alternately
like rubies, amethysts, and opals. At night, in the intervals between
showers, the moon converted the dewdrops hanging on the leaves of the
acacias and mimosas into diamonds, and the tropical light shone much
more brilliantly through the fresh, transparent air than at other
seasons of the year.

Under the waterfall, in the swamps formed by the stream, the croaking of
frogs and the melancholy concert of toads rang out, and the fireflies,
like shooting stars, flitted through the bamboo bushes from one bank to
the other.

When the clouds again hid the starry sky and it began to rain, the night
became pitch dark, and inside the tree it was as dark as a cellar. To
remedy this Stasch got Mea to melt some fat taken from the slain
animals, and out of a tin can be made a lamp, which he hung under the
upper opening that the children called a window. The light from this
window could be seen afar off through the darkness, and while it
frightened away the wild animals, it attracted bats and night birds, so
that finally Kali had to put up a kind of a curtain of thorns, like the
one with which he closed the lower opening for the night. In the
daytime, between showers, if the weather were fine, the children would
leave “Cracow” and wander over the entire strip of land. Stasch would
hunt gazels, antelopes, and ostriches, herds of which often appeared on
the banks of the lower stream, and Nell would visit her elephant, which
at first only trumpeted when he wanted some food, but later began
trumpeting when he felt lonesome for his little friend. He always
greeted her with signs of joy, and at once began to prick up his large
ears whenever he heard her voice or step even far away.

One day when Stasch was out hunting and Kali was fishing above the
waterfall, Nell decided to go to the rock which blocked the gorge to see
if Stasch had done anything to remove it. Mea, who was busy preparing
the mid-day meal, did not notice her departure. On her way Nell picked a
peculiar kind of begonia,[23] which grew in large quantities between the
crevices of the rock; she approached the slope over which they had
formerly ridden out of the gorge, and walked till she came to the rock.
The large boulder had broken off the side of the cliff, and barred the
mouth of the ravine as before, but Nell noticed that there was still
enough room between it and the wall of the cliff for even a grown person
to get through easily. She hesitated a while and then passed through,
gaining the opposite side. But there was still another bend, which had
to be passed before reaching the broad mouth of the gorge, enclosed by
the waterfall. Nell began to consider what she should do. “I will go
only a little farther; then I will look from behind a rock and take a
peep at the elephant; he will not spy me, and then I shall turn back.”
So she crept forward until she reached the place where the gorge
suddenly widened into a small, deep valley, and then she saw the
elephant. He stood with his back toward her, his trunk in the water,
taking a drink. This encouraged her, and keeping close to the wall of
the cliff, she walked a few steps, bending forward a little more; just
then the giant beast, who was going to take a bath, turned his head, saw
the little girl and immediately started toward her.

Nell was thoroughly frightened, but having no time to retreat, she made
her very prettiest courtesy, and then extending her hand in which she
held the begonias, said in a rather trembling voice:

“Good morning, dear elephant! I know you will not hurt me, and so I have
come here to say good-day to you—I have only these little flowers——”

The colossus approached, put out his trunk and took from Nell’s fingers
the blossoms, but no sooner had he put them in his mouth than he let
them drop, for evidently he did not like the taste of the stringy leaves
or the flowers. Nell now saw directly above her his trunk, which
resembled an enormous black snake; it stretched and contracted, touched
her little hands one at a time, then her arms, and at last it hung down
and began to swing from side to side.

“I knew you would not hurt me,” repeated the girl, although still
somewhat frightened.

The elephant flapped his huge ears, alternately extended and contracted
his trunk, and gave the grunt of satisfaction that he always did when
the girl approached the edge of the ravine.

Just as Stasch had once faced the lion, so now these two (Nell and the
elephant) stood face to face—he, a monster resembling a house or a
rock, and she a tiny crab that he, even if not angry, but merely
careless, might trample under foot.

But the careful beast did not move an inch, and seemed delighted at
beholding his little visitor.

Nell gradually took courage; at last, raising her eyes and looking up as
if to a high roof, she timidly extended her hand and asked:

“May I stroke your trunk?”

The elephant did not understand English, but he immediately knew what
she meant from the motion of her hand, and pushed the end of his
two-yard-long nose into the palm of her hand. Nell began to stroke the
trunk, at first only with one hand and very carefully, then with both,
and at last she threw both arms around it and clung to it with childish
confidence.

The elephant moved from one foot to the other, and grunted with
satisfaction.

Soon after, winding his trunk around the fragile body of the girl, he
lifted her high and began gently to swing her from side to side.

“More! More!” cried Nell, delighted.

This game lasted quite a while; the girl, who now had entire confidence
in the elephant and was no longer afraid, thought of another plan, for
on reaching the ground again she tried to climb up the foreleg of the
elephant, as though climbing up a tree, or hid behind him, and asked him
if he could find her. During these pranks she noticed that in the
elephant’s feet, especially in its hind feet, there were a great many
thorns, which the powerful animal was not able to extract, because, in
the first place, he could not reach his hind legs readily with his
trunk, and secondly, because he evidently was afraid of wounding the
finger which forms the end of the trunk, and without which he would lose
all his dexterity. Nell did not know that thorns in the feet torment
Indian elephants, and especially their cousins in the African jungles,
which mostly consist of prickly plants. Her sympathies were aroused for
the kindly giant, and squatting down near one of his feet, she began to
pull out the large thorns and then the small ones, chattering
incessantly and assuring the elephant that she would not let a single
one remain. He understood very well what was the matter, and bending his
knee, he plainly showed that there were thorns in the soles of his feet
between the hoofs protecting the toes, and these thorns were even more
painful than the others.

Meanwhile Stasch had returned from hunting, and at once asked Mea where
the little lady was.

On receiving the answer that she was probably in the tree, he was just
going to look inside when he thought he heard her voice in the gorge. To
make sure, he immediately sprang to the edge and looked down. He was so
frightened at what he saw that the blood nearly froze in his veins. The
girl was seated at the feet of the colossus, and the latter stood so
quiet that but for the movements of his trunk and ears one might have
thought him hewn out of stone.

“Nell!” screamed Stasch.

Earnestly engaged in what she was doing, she answered him cheerfully:

“In a minute! In a minute!”

The boy, who was not accustomed to postpone action when in danger,
picked up his rifle with one hand, while with the other he grasped a
dried liana stem, twisted both legs around it, and in a second swung
himself down to the level of the narrow pass.

The elephant flapped his ears uneasily, but at this instant Nell arose,
put her arms around his trunk and cried hastily, “Elephant, don’t be
frightened; that’s Stasch!”

Stasch at once saw that Nell was in no danger, but even then his legs
shook under him and his heart beat violently. But before he recovered
from his fright he mumbled in an angry but sad voice:

“Nell, Nell, how could you do that?”

She began to excuse herself, saying she had done nothing wrong after
all, for the elephant was kind and quite tame now, and she had only
intended to take a closer look at him and then go back, but he had
detained her by playing with her and carefully swinging her, and that if
Stasch liked he would swing him, too. As she spoke these words she
lifted the end of his trunk with one hand, and drawing it toward Stasch,
she waved the other hand from side to side, saying:

“Elephant, rock Stasch, too!”

The intelligent animal guessed from her movements what she wanted, and
in a second Stasch was grasped by the belt and swung through the air.
Seeing him looking so angry and at the same time swinging through the
air struck her as so comical, that she laughed till the tears ran down
her cheeks, and clapping her hands, she repeated as before:

“Elephant, swing Stasch, too!”

It was utterly impossible to maintain a severe demeanor and preach
morality while hanging to the end of an elephant’s trunk and being
involuntarily swung to and fro with clock-like regularity, so the boy at
last laughed too. After a while, noticing that the trunk was moving more
slowly, and that the elephant intended to put him down, a new idea
seized him, and when near one of the elephant’s large ears he held on to
it, and swinging himself onto the beast’s head, seated himself on his
neck.

“Aha!” he cried, as he glanced down at Nell, “he shall know that he has
to obey me.”

And with the look of a lord and master he began to feel around the head
of the beast.

“Good!” cried Nell from below, “but how will you get down?”

“That’s very easy,” answered Stasch.

Dropping his legs down over the elephant’s head, he fastened them around
the trunk and slid down as from a tree.

“That’s the way I shall get down.”

Now they both began to pull the remaining thorns out of the elephant’s
foot, and he submitted very patiently to the operation.

Meanwhile the first drops of rain had begun to fall, so Stasch decided
to take Nell back to “Cracow” at once. But an unexpected obstacle stood
in their way, for the elephant would on no account part with her, but
turned her round with his trunk and drew her toward him. The situation
began to be serious, and on account of the obstinacy of the animal their
happy play was in danger of ending badly. The boy did not know what to
do, for it was now raining harder and a bad storm threatened. Both
retreated a short distance toward the opening, but they had only taken a
few steps when the elephant followed them.

At last Stasch planted himself between Nell and the animal, looked
severely at him, and whispered to Nell:

“Don’t run away, but retire slowly and with measured step toward the
narrow passage.”

“And you, Stasch?” asked the little girl.

“Return!” he repeated energetically; “for otherwise I shall have to
shoot the elephant.”

At this threat she obeyed, especially as she now completely trusted the
elephant, and she felt sure that on no account would he hurt Stasch.

The boy stood four feet away from the giant, his eyes riveted on him.
Several minutes elapsed, then the situation became decidedly dangerous.
The elephant’s ears moved backwards and forwards several times, and he
had a peculiar twinkle in his little eyes; he raised his trunk suddenly.

Stasch turned pale.

“Death!” he thought.

But the colossus as suddenly turned to the wall of the narrow pass,
where he was accustomed to see Nell, and began to trumpet more sadly
than ever before.

Stasch now advanced toward the passage, and on the opposite side of the
rock he found Nell, who would not return to the tree alone.

The boy felt inclined to say to her: “See what you have done! A little
more and I should have perished, and you would have been to blame.” But
this was not the time to reproach her, for the rain had become a storm,
and it was necessary to get home as quickly as possible. Nell was quite
wet, notwithstanding that Stasch had wrapped her in his own coat.

When inside the tree Stasch ordered the negress to change Nell’s clothes
immediately. He released Saba, who had been tied up in the men’s room
for fear he would scent the game and frighten it away; then Stasch began
to hunt through all the clothing and baggage once more, in hopes of
finding a small dose of quinine which might have been overlooked. But he
found nothing. There only remained a little white powder in a corner of
the bottom of the vessel which the missionary in Khartum had given him,
but so little that it was hardly enough to whiten the tip of one’s
finger. He therefore decided to pour boiling water into the receptacle
and give this water to Nell to drink.

As soon as the storm subsided and the sun had come out again, he left
the tree to look at the fish caught by Kali. The negro had caught about
ten with a wire, which he had used for a line. Most of them were small,
but there were three a foot long, with silver spots, and of very light
weight. Mea, who had grown up on the banks of the blue Nile, and knew
about the fish, said that these were very good to eat, and that at night
they jump high out of the water. While cleaning them it was found that
they were so light because they had large air bladders inside them.
Stasch took one of these little skins, which was the size of a large
apple, and showed it to Nell.

“Look,” said he, “this was inside the fish. A pane for our window could
be made from a quantity of these bladders.” And he pointed to the upper
opening in the tree.

Then he thought for a minute and added:

“And something else.”

“What?” asked Nell, very curious.

“Kites.”

“Like those you used to fly in Port Said? Oh, good! Make some like
them!”

“I will; I will make the small frames out of thin strips of bamboo, and
use these bladders instead of paper. They will be lighter and better
than paper and the rain will not penetrate them. Such a kite will fly
very high, and in a strong wind it will fly—Heaven knows where.”

Then he suddenly tapped his forehead.

“I have an idea!”

“What is it?”

“You will see. As soon as my plan is formed you shall know all about it.
And now the elephant is trumpeting so loud we can’t hear ourselves
talk.”

In fact, the elephant trumpeted so loudly and continuously because he
was lonesome for Nell, and perhaps for both children, that it shook the
whole gorge and the neighboring trees.

“If we let him see us,” said Nell, “it may quiet him.” So they walked
toward the gorge. But Stasch, quite taken up with his new idea, began to
mutter to himself:

“Nell Rawlison and Stanislaus Tarkowski, from Port Said, who have
escaped from the hands of the Dervishes, are to be found——”

And taking breath, he asked himself:

“Yes, yes, but where shall I say—where?”

“What, Stasch?”

“Nothing, nothing! I have it now: ‘They can be found a month’s journey
away to the east of the blue Nile—and beg for immediate assistance.’
When there is a north or west wind I will send up twenty, fifty, one
hundred of such kites, and you, Nell, will help me to stick them
together.”

“Kites?”

“Yes, and I tell you this much—they may be of more service to us than
even ten elephants.”

Meanwhile they had reached the edge of the precipice, and once more the
colossus began to move from one foot to the other, to shake himself, to
prick up his ears, and as soon as Nell went away for a minute he began
trumpeting again. At last the girl explained to the “dear elephant” that
they could not always stay with him, for they had to sleep, eat, work,
and attend to household duties in “Cracow.” He was only pacified when
she threw down to him the food Kali had prepared for him, but in the
evening the trumpeting began again. That night the children named him
the “King,” for Nell insisted that before he entered the gorge he must
have been the king over all the elephants of Africa.

-----

Footnote 23:

Begonia Johnstoni.


                              CHAPTER VIII

During the days that followed, when it did not rain, Nell spent most of
her time with King, who now made no objection to her going away, because
he found that she returned frequently during the day. Kali, who was
afraid of elephants, was very much surprised at this, but at last they
convinced him that the great and good “Msimu” had bewitched the giant,
and he too began to visit it. King was kindly disposed to him and also
to Mea; but Nell was the only one who could do what she liked with him,
and a week later she ventured to take Saba along with her. Stasch felt
very much relieved, for without worry he now could leave Nell in the
care of—or, as he expressed himself, “under the trunk” of—the
elephant, go hunting, and sometimes even take Kali along without feeling
any anxiety. He felt certain that the animal would not now leave them
under any circumstances, and he began to ponder as to how he could
release King from his imprisonment.

He had long ago fully decided on his plan of action; but the sacrifice
it demanded was so great that he considered a long while before
attempting it, and even then put it off from day to day. As he had no
one else with whom to talk the matter over, he finally decided to
confide his plans to Nell, although he still looked upon her as a child.

“The rock could be blasted,” said he, “but that would mean the
destruction of a great many cartridges, for the bullets would have to be
removed, and the powder poured out until enough was obtained. This I
would put into the deep crevice in the middle of the rock, cover it up,
and light it. The rock would then be blown to pieces, and we could let
King out.”

“But suppose that were to make a dreadful noise—wouldn’t he be
frightened?”

“Then let him be frightened!” replied Stasch quickly. “That is the least
thing that worries me. Nell, it really is not worth while talking
seriously to you.”

Nevertheless he continued talking, or rather thinking aloud:

“If too little powder be used the rock will not split, and the powder
will be wasted, and yet if enough be put in there will not be much left
over; besides, if it were to explode prematurely we might be killed.
Then what would be left to hunt with, what to defend us with in case of
an attack? You know quite well that if I had not had this rifle and
these cartridges we should long since have lost our lives, either when
in Gebhr’s hands or from starvation. We are lucky, too, in having
horses, for by ourselves we could not carry either the baggage or the
cartridges.”

Thereupon Nell put out her forefinger and said very emphatically:

“If I tell King to do it, he will carry everything.”

“What burdens will he have to carry; we have very few things left.”

“Nevertheless, he will protect us——”

“But he can not shoot game with his trunk as I can with my rifle.”

“Well, we can eat figs and the large pumpkin-like fruits that grow on
the trees, and Kali can catch fish.”

“Yes, as long as we stay near a stream. We must stay here and wait until
the rainy season is over, for these continual showers are sure to give
you the fever. Remember that we must continue our journey later, and we
may possibly strike a desert.”

“Like the Sahara?” asked Nell, much alarmed.

“No; but one without streams and fruit-trees and acacias and mimosas. In
a place like that one can only live on game. King would find grass, and
I antelopes, but if I have nothing to shoot them with King could not
capture them.”

Stasch certainly had reason to be worried, for now that the elephant was
tame and had become so well acquainted with them, it would not be right
to desert him and leave him to starve; on the other hand, releasing him
meant losing most of the ammunition and certainly risking death.

And so Stasch put the work off from day to day, every evening repeating
to himself: “Perhaps I may think of some other way to-morrow.”

Meanwhile other troubles came upon them.

In the first place Kali had been terribly tortured by bees when he went
far down the stream after a rather small gray-green bird, a so-called
bee-hawk, well known in Africa. The black boy had been too lazy to smoke
the bees out, and although he returned with some honey, he was so stung
and swollen that an hour later he became unconscious. The “good Msimu,”
with Mea’s assistance, drew out the poisonous stings, and then quickly
made him poultices of wet mud. But toward morning it seemed as though
the poor negro would die. Fortunately, good care and a strong
constitution triumphed, but it was ten days before he regained his usual
health.

In the second place, something had gone wrong with the horses. Stasch,
who was obliged to tie them up and lead them to water during Kali’s
illness, discovered that they were beginning to get very lean. This
certainly was not caused by insufficient food, for the grass was very
luxuriant after the rain, making very good pasture. And yet the horses
dwindled before his eyes. A few days later their hair began to fall out,
their eyes had lost their brilliancy, and a thick slime ran from their
nostrils. Finally they refused to graze, and drank a great deal, as
though consumed by fever. When Kali saw them they were nothing but skin
and bones, and he knew at once what was the matter.

“Tsetse!” said he, turning to Stasch. “They must die!”

Stasch knew what this meant, for in Port Said he had often heard of an
African fly called “tsetse,” which is such a terrible plague in certain
places that in districts permanently infected with it the negroes own no
cattle, for where circumstances favor its multiplying it destroys
animals in no time. Horses, cattle, and donkeys which have been bitten
by the tsetse-fly pine and die in a few days. Animals inhabiting these
districts know the danger that threatens them, for entire herds of
cattle, on hearing the buzzing near their watering-places, are so
frightened that they stampede in every direction.

Stasch’s horses had been stung by these flies, and not only the horses,
but the donkey, too. Kali rubbed them daily with a plant that smelled
like an onion, which he found in the jungle. He said that the smell of
it would drive away the “tsetse”; but notwithstanding all his efforts
the horses continued to grow thinner. Stasch was terrified when he
thought of what would happen if all the animals were to die. How could
Nell, the rugs, the tent, the cartridges, and the crockery be taken
along? There were so many things that at best King was the only one who
could carry them. But to release King would mean sacrificing two-thirds
of the gunpowder.

Further and greater troubles were now heaped on Stasch’s head, like the
clouds in the heavens, which rained down incessantly in the jungle. And
at last came the greatest misfortune, the one before which everything
else seemed as nothing—the fever.


                               CHAPTER IX

One day at table, just as Nell was putting a small piece of smoked meat
into her mouth, she drew back suddenly, as if disgusted, and said:

“I can’t eat anything to-day.”

Stasch, who had found out from Kali where the bees were, and had smoked
them out daily and taken the honey, was certain that the child had eaten
too much of the sweets, and therefore he paid no further attention to
her loss of appetite. But presently she arose and began to run quickly
round and round the campfire, each time making larger circles.

“Don’t go too far away,” called the boy to her; “something might happen
to you.”

But he was not afraid of any harm coming to her, for the presence of the
elephant, whom the wild animals scented, and his trumpeting, that
reached their keen, attentive ears, kept them at a respectful distance.
This afforded protection to them as well as their horses, because even
the most ferocious beasts of prey in the jungle, such as lions,
panthers, and leopards, do not care to come in contact with an elephant,
or in too close proximity to his tusks and trunk.

As the girl continued running faster and faster around the fire, Stasch
followed her and asked:

“Nell, you little moth, why do you run around the fire like that?”

Though he asked this in a cheerful voice, he had begun to be alarmed,
and his uneasiness increased as Nell answered:

“I don’t know; I can’t sit still in one place.”

“What’s the matter?”

“I feel so uncomfortable and queer——”

All at once she leaned her head on his shoulder, as if confessing a
fault, and cried out in a voice stifled by tears:

“Stasch, I must be ill.”

“Nell!”

At the same time he laid the palm of his hand on her forehead, which
felt dry and as cold as ice. Then he took her in his arms and carried
her to the camp-fire.

“Are you cold?” he asked on the way.

“Cold and hot, but mostly cold.”

Her teeth began to chatter, and her body was shaking with chills. Stasch
was now convinced that Nell had the fever.

He told Mea to take her at once into the tree, to undress her, and put
her to bed. Then he covered her up with everything he could find, for he
had noticed that in Khartum and Fashoda fever patients covered
themselves up with sheep skins to induce perspiration. He decided to
stay with Nell all night and give her hot water and mead to drink. At
first she did not want to take it. By the light of their rudely made
lamp Stasch noticed the glistening pupils of her eyes. Soon she began
complaining of the heat and shivering at the same time, although covered
with felt rugs and a shawl. Her hands and forehead were always cold, but
if Stasch had only had a slight knowledge of the symptoms of the fever
he would have seen from her great restlessness that she must have a very
high temperature. He was terrified on noticing that when Mea appeared
with hot water the girl looked at her with astonishment, even with fear,
and did not seem to recognize her at first. But with him she talked
rationally, told him that she could not lie down any longer, and begged
him to let her get up and run about. Then she asked him whether he was
angry with her for being ill, and on his assuring her that this was not
the case she blinked to drive back her tears, and promised that she
would be well the next day.

During this evening, or rather this night, the elephant was particularly
restless and roared incessantly, which set Saba barking again. Stasch
perceived that this excited the patient, and so he left the tree to
quiet the animals. Saba was easily pacified, but it was more difficult
to silence the elephant, and Stasch threw several melons down to him so
as to close his trunk for a while. On his return he saw by the light of
the fire Kali walking in the direction of the stream and carrying a
piece of smoked meat on his shoulder.

“What are you doing, and where are you going?” he asked the negro.

The black boy stood still, and as Stasch approached he said with an air
of secrecy:

“Kali goes to the other tree to place meat there for the bad Msimu.”

“Why?”

“So the bad Msimu will not kill good Msimu.”

Stasch wanted to reply, but a strange pain pressed like a weight on his
chest, so he only bit his lips and went silently away.

When he returned to the tree Nell had closed her eyes; her hands, which
lay on the felt rug, were trembling very much, but still she appeared to
be dozing. Stasch sat down by her side, and as he was afraid of awaking
her, he remained there motionless for some time. Mea, who was seated on
the other side, toyed all the time with the little pieces of ivory
hanging in her ears in order to keep awake. It had become very quiet,
and only from the lower bed of the stream, in the direction of the
swamp, could the croaking of the frogs and the mournful tooting of the
toads be heard.

Suddenly Nell raised herself up in bed.

“Stasch!”

“Here I am, Nell.”

Then, shaking like a leaf blown by the wind, she eagerly began to search
for his hand and to repeat hastily:

“I’m frightened; I’m frightened! Give me your hand!”

“Don’t be frightened. I’m here with you.”

And he grasped her hand, which now burned like fire, and having no idea
what to do, he began to cover the poor, wretched little hand with
kisses.

“Don’t be frightened, Nell; don’t be frightened.”

Then he gave her a drink of honey mixed with water, which had become
cold. This time Nell drank greedily, and when he tried to take the cup
away from her mouth she held his hands tight. The cold drink seemed to
quiet her.

A long silence ensued. Half an hour later Nell raised herself up again,
and there was a terrible expression of fright in her wide-open eyes.

“Stasch!”

“What is it, my dear?”

“Why,” she asked in a trembling, uncertain voice, “why do Gebhr and
Chamis walk around the tree and look in at me?”

Stasch suddenly felt as if thousands of ants had taken possession of
him.

“What are you talking about?” he said. “There’s no one here. Kali is the
only one walking around the tree.”

But she stared through the dark opening and cried with chattering teeth:

“And the Bedouins! Why did you kill them?”

Stasch put his arm around her and pressed her to him.

“You know why! Don’t look over there! Don’t think of it! That happened
long ago.”

“To-day! To-day!——”

This had happened a long time ago, but it always came back to her like
the wave that rolls back upon the shore, and it filled the mind of the
sick child with horror. All attempts to quiet her were unavailing.
Nell’s eyes grew larger and larger. Her heart beat so hard that it
seemed as if it would burst. Then she began to twist and throw herself
around like a fish drawn out of the water, and that condition lasted
till nearly morning. Not until daybreak did her strength give out and
her little head sink back on the pillow.

“I’m weak, weak, weak!” she repeated. “Stasch, I seem to be falling down
some place.” And then she closed her eyes.

At first Stasch was overcome, for he thought she was dead. But this was
only the end of the first paroxysm of this terrible and treacherous
African fever, two attacks of which are as much as a strong, robust
person can stand—for nobody has ever survived a third attack. Travelers
had often described the fever when at Mr. Rawlison’s house in Port Said,
and even more frequently the Catholic missionaries whom Mr. Tarkowski
entertained on their way back to Europe had told about it. It seems that
a second attack comes on after a few days, and a third, which, if it
does not appear within two weeks, is not fatal, for then it is
considered to be the first attack of another case. Stasch knew that
heavy doses of quinine alone could stop or alleviate the attacks, and he
had not a particle of it left.

Seeing that Nell was still breathing, he became somewhat composed, and
began to pray for her. In the meanwhile the sun appeared from behind the
cliffs in the gorge, and it became bright daylight. The elephant was
already demanding his breakfast, and from the direction of the stream
the screams of the water-birds could be heard. As the boy wanted to
shoot some birds to make a broth for Nell, he took the rifle and walked
along the edge of the stream to a group of high shrubs, in which the
birds generally perched for the night. But he was so exhausted from loss
of sleep, and his mind was so preoccupied with the thought of the girl’s
illness, that he did not see a swarm of birds, walking slowly in single
file, that passed him on their way to drink. Another reason why he did
not see them was that he was constantly praying. He thought of the
deaths of Gebhr and Chamis and the Bedouins, and lifting his eyes toward
heaven, he said in a voice drowned with emotion: “Dear Lord, I did this
for Nell, for Nell; for otherwise it would have been impossible to have
regained our freedom—but if I committed a sin, punish me, but restore
her to health——”

On the way he met Kali, who had gone to see if the wicked Msimu had
eaten the meat he had offered him the day before. The young negro, who
loved the little “Bibi,” prayed for her, too, but in quite a different
way. For he told the wicked Msimu that if “Bibi” recovered he would
bring him a piece of meat every day, but if she died he would—although
he felt frightened and knew he would perish—tear the wicked Msimu’s
skin to shreds and cause him to remember him forever. But he took
courage when he saw that the piece of meat he had placed there the day
before had disappeared. It might have been devoured by a jackal, but
then Msimu might have taken the form of a jackal.

Kali told Stasch of this favorable omen, but Stasch only gazed at him as
if he did not understand, and went on his way. While vainly searching
for birds in the shrubbery, he approached the stream. Its banks were
thickly wooded with tall trees, from which hung, like stockings, nests
of the Remizen—pretty little yellow birds with black wings—and also
wasps’ nests, shaped like large roses, and resembling gray
blotting-paper. At one point the stream formed a fairly broad, swampy
plain, which was partly overgrown with papyrus. In this swampy stretch
of land were many flocks of water-birds. There were storks, like the
European ones, and others with large, thick, hooked beaks; velvety black
birds with blood-red feet, flamingoes, ibises, and white spoon-bills
with pink wings and spoon beaks, cranes with crowns on their heads, and
a number of gulls, variegated or gray as mice, which, like tiny forest
sprites, ran to and fro on their long, thin, straw-like legs.

Stasch shot two large, bright-colored ducks, and walking over dead white
butterflies, which were strewn over the banks by the thousand, first
making sure there were no crocodiles in the ford, he waded into the
water and picked up the game. The shot had evidently frightened away the
birds, for there remained only two marabous, that stood near the water
at a short distance away. They resembled two old men, with bald heads
bowed down on their shoulders. They did not move. The boy took another
look at their ugly food bags, hanging down on their breasts, then
finding that the wasps were surrounding him, he returned to the camp.

Nell was still asleep, so he gave the ducks to Mea and then stretched
himself out on a felt rug and at once fell into a heavy sleep. He did
not awaken until the afternoon, a little earlier than Nell. The girl
felt somewhat stronger, and being slightly refreshed, she drank some
good, strong broth, arose and left the tree to look at King and the sun.
Only now, by daylight, could be seen the ravages made by the fever in
one night. Nell’s skin was yellow and transparent, her lips were black,
there were large circles under her eyes, and her little face looked much
older. Notwithstanding that she assured Stasch she felt quite strong,
and even though she had drunk a large cup of soup on awakening, she was
hardly able to drag herself to the edge of the gorge. Stasch was
terrified at the thought of the second attack. He had no medicine, nor
anything else to help her.

Meanwhile, there were several heavy showers every day, and this greatly
increased the humidity in the air.


                               CHAPTER X

They passed anxious days awaiting the return of the fever, but the
second attack did not appear for a week, and though it was not so
violent as the previous one, Nell felt much weaker after it. She had
become so thin and had lost so much weight that she did not look like a
girl, but rather like the ghost of a girl. The little flame of her life
flickered so feebly that it seemed as if a breath would blow it out.
Stasch realized that death would not have to wait for a third attack to
carry her off, and he expected her death from day to day, even from hour
to hour.

He, too, had become quite thin and dark, for these misfortunes were more
than his bodily and mental strength could stand. Each day as he looked
into Nell’s face he often said to himself, “My reward for having
cherished her as the apple of my eye will be the privilege of burying
her in the jungle!” Why it should have come to this he could not
imagine. At times he reproached himself for not having taken sufficient
care of her, and for not having treated her as kindly as he should, and
then he felt such a pain in his heart that he could have bitten his
fingers for grief. This misfortune was overwhelming.

Nell now slept almost continually, which perhaps saved her life. But
Stasch awakened her several times during the day to give her some
strengthening food. Whenever it was not raining she would beg him to
carry her out into the open air, for she was unable to stand. It often
happened that she went to sleep even as he carried her in his arms. She
knew that she was very ill, and that she might die at any time. At
first, when she was a little better and felt inclined, she would talk
about it to Stasch, all the time crying, for she was afraid of death.

“I shall never return to papa,” she once said. “But you must tell him
that the thought of it made me very sorry, and ask him to come here to
me.”

“You will return,” answered Stasch.

But he was unable to say any more, for he wanted to cry.

And Nell continued in a scarcely audible and sleepy voice:

“And papa will come here, and you will come back here again, too, won’t
you?” At this thought a smile lit up her tiny, wan face, and then she
whispered still more softly:

“But I am so sorry——”

At the same time she leaned her little head on his shoulder and began to
cry, but he, conquering his own emotion, pressed her to his heart, and
answered quickly:

“Nell, without you I shall not return, and—and in fact I don’t even
know what I should do without you.”

Both became silent, and Nell fell asleep again. Stasch carried her back
to the tree, but hardly had he stepped out of the dwelling than Kali
came running down from the highest point of the neck of land,
gesticulating with his hands, and crying out in an excited and terrified
voice:

“Great Man, Great Man!”

“What do you want?” asked Stasch.

And the negro extended his hand, pointing to the south, and cried,
“Smoke!”

Shading his eyes with the hollow of his hand, Stasch gazed attentively
in the direction indicated, the red light of the setting sun enabling
him to see a column of smoke ascending in the midst of the jungle
between the peaks of two rather high hills.

Kali trembled from head to foot, for he still had a vivid recollection
of their capture by the Dervishes, and he felt sure that the smoke came
from their camp.

At last Stasch also thought that it must come from Smain’s camp, and so
for a moment he was as much frightened as Kali. This was the climax—to
have, in addition to Nell’s deadly illness, the Dervishes come upon
them, to be taken prisoners again, and carried back to Fashoda or
Khartum in the hands of the Mahdi, or under Abdullah’s whip! If they
should be captured Nell would doubtless die the very first day, and he
would be a slave for life. For, even if he were to escape, what was
life, what was freedom without Nell? How could he look into the eyes of
his father or Mr. Rawlison if the Dervishes were to throw Nell’s body to
the hyenas and he could not tell where her grave was?

Such thoughts shot through his head like lightning. Suddenly he felt an
uncontrollable desire to look at Nell, and he went toward the tree. On
the way he ordered Kali to put out the fire, and forbade him building it
during the night; then he entered the tree.

Nell was not asleep. She felt better, as she immediately told Stasch.
Saba lay at her side and warmed her with his enormous body; she softly
stroked his head and smiled when he tried to catch the little grains of
mold that were flying about in the streak of light which the last rays
of the setting sun threw into the hollow of the tree. She was evidently
in a more cheerful mood than usual, for a little later she turned to
Stasch quite pleased and said:

“Perhaps I may not die after all.”

“You certainly will not die,” answered Stasch, “for as you feel stronger
after the second attack, you will never have a third.”

And she began blinking as if trying to recollect something and then
said:

“If I only had another little bitter powder, like the one that did me so
much good the night after the lion visited us; you remember, don’t you?
Then I should not even think of dying—not even so much——”

And with one of her little fingers she indicated how little she would be
prepared for death in such a case.

“Ah!” cried Stasch excitedly, “what would I not give for a grain of
quinine! I don’t know what!”

And he thought to himself that if he had enough quinine he would not
hesitate to give Nell two little powders at once, then wrap her up in
the shawl, place her on his horse, and go off immediately in the
opposite direction from the camp of the Dervishes.

Meanwhile the sun had gone down suddenly and the jungle was in darkness.
The girl talked for nearly half an hour, and then went to sleep, and
Stasch continued to think about the Dervishes and the quinine. Although
tortured by sorrow and fright, his extraordinarily clever brain began to
build more and more daring plans. In the first place, he thought whether
or not this smoke seen in the south was bound to come from Smain’s camp.
It certainly might come from the Dervishes’ camp, but also from an
encampment of Arabians, who penetrate the interior of the continent in
search of ivory and slaves. These Arabs were in no wise connected with
the Dervishes, who ruined their trade. It might also be a camp of
Abyssinians, or some negro village in the mountains, into which the
hunters after human beings had not yet penetrated. Would it not be more
sensible to find out what it really was?

The Arabians of Zanzibar, from the districts of Bogamajo, Witu, and
Mombasa, and the seashore, continually came in contact with the whites,
and who could tell if the offer of a large reward would not induce them
to conduct Stasch and Nell to one of the nearest seaports. Stasch knew
quite well that he could promise them such a reward, and that they would
believe his word. But another thought caused him great uneasiness, for
he noticed that the Dervishes, especially those from Nubia, were almost
as susceptible to fever in Khartum as the whites, and that they cured
themselves with quinine, stealing it from the Europeans, or if the
renegade Greeks or Copts had any secreted, they bought it at a great
price. And so it was probable that the Arabians from the borders of the
ocean would certainly have some of it.

“I will go there,” said Stasch to himself; “for Nell’s sake, I will go
there!”

On thinking the matter over more carefully, he came to the conclusion
that even if they should prove to be Smain’s party, he would have to go
there. It occurred to him that, owing to the complete rupture between
Egypt and Sudan, Smain might not have heard that they had been carried
away from Fayoum. Fatima did not like Smain, and so the kidnapping must
have been a plan of her own, which had been executed with the aid of
Chamis (the son of Chadigi), and also of Idris, Gebhr, and the Bedouins.
Now, Smain was not at all interested in any of these people, for the
simple reason that Chamis was the only one of them that he knew, and he
had never seen or heard of the others. He was only interested in his own
children and Fatima. Perhaps he longed as much for them as they did for
him, and would be glad to be able to return to them, especially if he
were tired of being in the service of the Mahdi. He surely had not won a
great prize while with them, for instead of being placed in command of a
large army, or made ruler over a wide extent of territory, he was
obliged to go, heaven knows how far back of Fashoda, to capture slaves!
“I shall say to him,” thought Stasch, “ ‘If you will lead us to some
harbor on the Indian Ocean and return with us to Egypt, the government
will forgive you everything, and you will be able to rejoin your
children and Fatima, besides which Mr. Rawlison will make you a rich
man—if not, you will never see your children or Fatima again.’ ”

He was certain that Smain would think well of it and that he would
scarcely refuse such an offer.

Of course this was only a surmise. In fact, while an investigation might
prove their destruction, it might also prove their deliverance, and the
only means of help in this African wilderness. Stasch felt surprised at
himself for being terror-stricken at first at the thought of meeting
Smain, but as it was necessary to procure assistance for Nell as soon as
possible, he decided to go there that very night.

This was easier said than done. It is one thing to sit at evening before
a fire in the jungle, behind a hedge of thorns, and another to penetrate
the dense darkness and wade through the high grass, in which lions,
panthers, and leopards, not to mention hyenas and jackals, prowl at this
time of night. But the boy remembered what the young negro said the time
when he went off one night in search of Saba and brought him back, “Kali
is afraid, but he goes!” and he repeated to himself, “I may be afraid,
but I will go.”

As the night was very dark, he waited until the moon rose, and when its
light shone out over the jungle he called Kali and said:

“Kali, put Saba inside the tree, and block up the opening with thorns;
you and Mea must guard the little lady as the apple of your eye while I
go to see what kind of people are over there in that camp.”

“Great Man take Kali with him and also the rifle which kills wild
beasts. Kali not stay behind!”

“You will remain,” said Stasch with decision. “I forbid you to follow
me.”

He now paused a while, and then continued in a rather hoarse voice:

“Kali, you are faithful and smart, and I hope that you will do what I
tell you. Should I not return, and should the little lady die, you must
leave her in the tree, but round it you must erect a high hedge, and
carve a mark like this in the bark——”

And picking up two bamboo sticks, he placed them together like a cross,
and continued:

“And should I not return, and should Bibi not die, then you must serve
her faithfully and respectfully, and you must lead her to your people,
and tell the Wa-hima warriors to take her due east until the great ocean
is reached. There you will find white people, who will give you weapons,
gunpowder, glass beads, wire, and as much canvas as you can possibly
carry. Do you understand?”

But the young negro knelt before him, clasped him round the knees, and
sorrowfully pleaded with him, repeating:

“Oh, Bwana Kubwa! Return, return, return!”

Stasch was touched by the attachment of the black boy, and leaning down,
he placed his hand on his head and said:

“Kali, go to the tree—and—God bless you!”

As he stood there alone, he thought about taking the donkey with him. It
would certainly be safe to do so, for the lions in Africa (just as the
tigers in India), on meeting a man riding, always attack the animal and
not the man. But the question then presented itself that if the donkey
were killed, who would carry Nell’s tent, and on what would she ride?
When he thought of these contingencies he completely gave up the idea of
taking the animal along, and began making his way through the jungle on
foot.

The moon was already fairly high in the heavens, and it was now much
lighter. But the boy’s troubles began at once, for he disappeared in the
grass, which had grown so high that horse and rider could easily have
hidden in it. Even in the daytime it was not possible to see a foot
ahead, so one can imagine what it was by night, when the moonlight only
shone over the surface, and lower down everything was bathed in utter
darkness. Under such conditions it was easy to lose one’s way and travel
in a circle instead of advancing. But Stasch took courage when he
thought, in the first place, that the camp to which he was traveling
could be at the most only three or four English miles away from the neck
of land, and secondly, that the smoke had appeared between the peaks of
two high hills; so by keeping the two hills in view he could not get
lost.

But the grasses, mimosas, and acacias concealed everything. Fortunately,
groups of ant-hills sometimes more than ten feet high, appeared here and
there. Stasch carefully laid aside his gun when he came to each cluster
of hills, and then he climbed to the top, and on seeing the hilltops
outlined against the background of the dark sky, he climbed down again
and continued his journey.

When he thought of what would happen if the sky should become overcast
and the moon no longer shine, he was very much frightened. But that was
not the only danger. In the dead silence of the night in the jungle
every noise, every step, and almost every sound made by the insects as
they creep through the grass can be heard. The sensation that comes over
one is gruesome; and Stasch was terrified. He had to take precautions
against all sorts of catastrophes. He was obliged to listen attentively,
to keep watch on all sides, and to hold his head ready to turn round
like a screw, and his rifle ready to shoot. Every minute it seemed as
though some animal was lying in ambush, or was creeping up near him.
From time to time he heard the grasses trembling and the tramping of
animals running away. Then he thought that he must have frightened off
the antelopes, for although one of their number always keeps watch, they
sleep very lightly, knowing full well that amateur huntsmen do not go
out hunting in the dark at this time of night. But now he sees something
dark, large, under an umbrella-acacia. It may be a rock, a rhinoceros,
or a buffalo, which on scenting a human being will awaken and
immediately advance to attack him, and he also sees two glittering
things behind a black stone. “Ha!” Rifle to shoulder! “That’s a lion!
No!” False alarm! They are fireflies, for a tiny light rises in the air
and glides over the grass, like a shooting star slanting downward.
Stasch not only climbed the ant-hills to make sure that he was going in
the right direction, but also to dry the cold perspiration which stood
out on his forehead, to get his breath, and to wait until his heart
should cease to palpitate. Besides, he was already so tired that he
could hardly stand.

But he walked on, feeling that nothing must be left undone to save Nell.
After two hours he came to a very stony place, where the grass was
lower, and so it was much lighter.

The two peaks looked as far off as ever, but a little nearer there were
some rocks running irregularly in a transverse direction, above which
towered a taller rock, and they apparently encased a kind of valley or
gorge, resembling the one in which King had been imprisoned. Now on the
side of the cliff—about three or four hundred feet distant—he
perceived the bright reflection of a flame.

He stood still. His heart was again beating so wildly that in the
silence of the night he could hear it thump. Whom is he likely to
encounter down there? Arabians from the eastern coast? Smain’s
Dervishes? Or savage negroes, who have left their native villages, and
fleeing from the Dervishes, have taken refuge in the most impenetrable
forest of the mountains? Will he there find death, or imprisonment, or
perhaps help for Nell?

It was impossible for him to turn back now, and besides, he had no
inclination to do so; he crept slowly toward the fire, stepping as
lightly as possible, and holding his breath. After he had gone about a
hundred steps, he suddenly heard the neighing of horses in the jungle,
and he stood still. By the light of the moon he counted five. The
Dervishes would have had more, so he supposed that the others were
probably hidden in the tall grass. But he was surprised that no one was
watching them, or that at least a fire had not been left burning in
order to frighten off the wild beasts. He thanked God that things were
as they were, for he could now advance without attracting attention.

The light of the fire on the cliff became still plainer. In less than a
quarter of an hour Stasch reached a place where the cliff opposite him
was brilliantly lighted, which satisfied him that a fire must be burning
directly below it.

Crawling on all fours, he crept carefully up to the side and looked
down.

The first object that attracted his attention was a large white tent.
Before the tent stood a canvas camp-bed, and on it lay a person wearing
white European clothes. A small negro, apparently about twelve years
old, was throwing dry wood into the fire, which illuminated the side of
the cliff, and a row of negroes were sleeping on either side of the
tent. The next moment Stasch slid down the slope into the bottom of the
gorge.

[Illustration:  “On a canvas camp-stead lay a person wearing white
European clothes. . . . A row of negroes were sleeping on either side of
the tent.” ]


                               CHAPTER XI

For the moment he was so weary and excited that he was unable to utter a
word, and stood there gasping for breath in front of the man, who lay on
the bed, and who likewise remained silent, gazing at him with such utter
amazement that he was all but dazed.

At last the man cried out:

“Nasibu! Are you there?”

“Yes, sir,” answered the young negro.

“Do you see any one and is any one standing in front of me?”

But before the boy could answer Stasch regained his voice:

“Sir,” he said, “my name is Stanislaus Tarkowski. I was captured by the
Dervishes, and have escaped with little Miss Rawlison, and we are hiding
in the jungle. But Nell is very ill, and I pray you to help us.”

The stranger blinked at him, then passed his hand across his forehead
and said to himself:

“I not only see him, but hear him—it can not be imagination—What?
Help? I need help myself. I’m wounded!”

But suddenly he shook himself, as if awakening from a dream or a trance,
looked round, and regaining his presence of mind, said with a gleam of
joy in his eyes:

“A white boy! I look upon a white being once more! Welcome, whoever you
are. You said some one was ill. What do you want of me?”

Stasch repeated that this sick person was Nell, the daughter of Mr.
Rawlison, one of the directors of the Suez Canal; that she had already
had two attacks of fever, and unless he were able to procure some
quinine to prevent a third attack she must die.

“Two attacks—that’s bad!” answered the stranger. “But I can give you as
much quinine as you want. I have several jars full of it, which I shall
never need.”

At these words he told Nasibu to hand him a large tin box, which
evidently contained a small medicine chest, and he took out of it two
rather large jars filled with a white powder, and handed them to Stasch.

“That is half of what I have left. It will last a year!”

At first Stasch felt inclined to cry aloud for joy, but he controlled
himself and began to thank his new friend as enthusiastically as though
his own life were at stake.

The stranger nodded his head several times and said:

“Enough, enough. My name is Linde and I am a Swiss, from Zürich. Two
days ago I met with an accident. A wild beast wounded me very severely.”

Then he turned toward the black boy.

“Nasibu, fill my pipe.”

Inclining toward Stasch, he continued:

“At night I always have more fever than in the daytime, and attacks of
dizziness as well. But the pipe brightens me up and freshens my
thoughts. You just said that you had escaped from the Dervishes, who
held you captive, and that you had hidden in the jungle. Am I right?”

“Yes, sir; that is what I said.”

“And what do you intend to do?”

“To flee to Abyssinia.”

“You will fall into the hands of the Mahdists, for whole troupes of them
are hanging around the frontier.”

“But what else can we do?”

“Ah, only a month ago I could have been of assistance to you. But now I
find myself at the mercy of God and this black boy.”

Stasch looked at him in surprise.

“And this camp?”

“This is a camp of death.”

“And these negroes?”

“These negroes are asleep, and they will never awaken again.”

“I don’t understand——”

“They are stricken with the sleeping-sickness.[24] They are from the
shores of the great lakes, where this terrible sickness is always very
prevalent, and every one of them who has not died of the smallpox has
been stricken down with it. I have only one boy left.”

It just occurred to Stasch that when he was sliding down the slope not
one of those negroes had moved, nor even budged, and that during the
whole conversation they were still sleeping, some with their heads
propped up against the rocks and others with their heads hanging down on
their chests.

“They are asleep and will never awaken?” he inquired, as if he could
scarcely believe his ears.

Linde responded:

“Oh, this Africa is a house of death.”

But the remaining words were interrupted by the tramping of the horses,
which, frightened by something in the jungle, hopped along, their feet
being hobbled, to the edge of the cliff, so as to be nearer the people
and the firelight.

“That’s nothing; it is only the horses,” said the Swiss quietly. “I
captured them from the Mahdists, whom I conquered a few weeks ago. There
were at least thirty men of them. But they were armed for the most part
with spears, while my men had Remington rifles, which are now standing
against the wall useless. If you need weapons or shot, help yourself.
Take a horse, too. On horseback you can return more quickly to your
patient. How old is she?”

“Eight years,” answered Stasch.

“Then she is still a child. Nasibu will give you tea, rice, coffee, and
wine for her. Take your choice of our provisions and as much as you
want, and come again to-morrow to get some more.

“I will certainly come back, to thank you from the bottom of my heart,
and to do all I can to help you.”

Whereupon Linde said:

“It is so pleasant to see a European face at least once more before I
die. If you come earlier than you did to-day I shall be more likely to
be myself. Now the fever is coming on again, for I see you double. Are
there two people standing by me? No! I know that you are alone and that
this is only the fever. Oh, Africa!”

And he closed his eyes.

A quarter of an hour later Stasch left this strange camp of sleep and
death and started on his return journey on horseback. It was still dark
night, but he was oblivious of the dangers which lurked in the tall
grass. He kept close to the stream, supposing that it led nearer the end
of this narrow pass. The return journey was a great deal easier, because
he could hear the rushing of the waterfall in the distance. Besides, the
clouds in the western sky had dispersed, and the constellations shone
forth brightly near the moon. The boy put spurs, which were on the broad
Arabian stirrups, to the horse, and galloped over sticks and stones, as
he thought to himself: “What harm can lions and panthers do to me? I
have quinine for my little girl.” And from time to time he felt for the
jars of quinine to make sure he really had them and that it was not all
a dream. The most varied thoughts and scenes floated through his brain.
He saw the wounded Swiss, to whom he felt inexpressibly grateful, and
who had now aroused his sympathy, for during the first moment or so of
his intercourse with him he had taken him for an idiot; he saw the
little Nasibu, with his round head shaped like a ball, the rows of
sleeping men, the barrels of the Remington guns propped up against the
rock, and lighted up by the fire. Besides, he was also all but certain
that the fight which Linde had told him about had been with Smain’s
division—and he felt a peculiar sensation as he thought perhaps Smain
also had fallen.

These dreams mingled with his ever-present thoughts of Nell. He imagined
how surprised she would be the next morning on seeing a whole jar full
of quinine, and how she would think him a prodigy. “Ah,” he said to
himself, “if I had lost courage and had not gone to find out where this
smoke came from, I would never have forgiven myself.”

After a short hour had elapsed the sound of the waterfall became quite
distinct, and on hearing the croaking of the frogs, he knew that he must
be near the silicious ground on which he had killed the water-birds the
previous day. By the light of the moon he could even distinguish the
distant trees. Now he had to be especially on his guard, for this swampy
land served as a watering-place, to which all the animals in the
vicinity were obliged to resort, because in other places the banks of
the stream were exceedingly steep.

It was now far into the night, and apparently the beasts of prey had
taken refuge in the clefts of the rocks after their nocturnal hunt for
prey. The horse neighed a little on scenting the fresh trail of lions or
panthers, but Stasch passed safely on, and soon saw on the high
projection the large black silhouette of “Cracow.” For the first time
since he had been in the interior of Africa he felt as if he had reached
home. He had expected to find them all still asleep, but he never
thought of Saba, who now began to bark loud enough to wake the dead.

The next moment Kali stood in front of the tree and cried:

“Bwana Kubwa on horseback!”

The tone of his voice expressed more joy than astonishment, for his
faith in Stasch’s powers was so great that had the latter created a
horse out of nothing, the black boy would not have been very much
surprised. But as the negro always shows his happiness by laughing, he
began to slap his sides and laugh inordinately.

“Tie up this horse,” said Stasch; “take the provisions off his back,
make a fire, and boil some water.”

Then he went inside the tree. Nell was also awake and had been calling
for him. On drawing aside the canvas, Stasch saw by the light of the
little lamp her pale face and her little thin hands lying on the shawl,
which served as a covering.

“Little one, how are you?” he asked quite gayly.

“Well! and I slept soundly until Saba woke me up. But why aren’t you
asleep?”

“Because I have been away.”

“Where?”

“To the druggist’s.”

“To the druggist’s?”

“Yes. To get some quinine.”

We must confess that the child had not enjoyed the quinine powders which
she had previously taken, but as she considered them a panacea for all
the ills flesh is heir to, she sighed and said:

“I know you have no more quinine.”

Stasch lifted one of the jars to the light and said with pride and joy:

“What do you call this, then?”

Nell would not believe her eyes, so he continued hastily, brimming over
with pleasure:

“Now you are going to get well again! I will lose no time in wrapping a
good dose up in the skin of a fresh fig, and you must swallow it, and
what you will drink later remains to be seen. Why do you stare at me
like an idiot? Yes, I have a second jar, too. I received both of them
from a white man, whose camp is about four miles from here. It is from
him that I have come. His name is Linde, and he is wounded, but he gave
me many nice things to bring back. I returned on horseback, although I
went on foot. Do you think it is pleasant to go through the jungle by
night? Brr! I would not go a second time unless it were a matter of
getting quinine.”

With these words he left the astonished girl, went to the men’s
quarters, and selecting the smallest fig from the provisions, hollowed
it out and poured quinine into it, but he was very careful that the dose
was larger than the powders he had taken in Khartum. Then he left the
tree, poured the tea into a pot of boiling water, and returned to Nell
with the medicine.

All this time Nell was very curious to find out what kind of person this
white man was, how Stasch had found him, and if he were going to join
them, and whether they would all continue their journey together. Now
that Stasch had obtained the quinine, she had not the least doubt but
that she would recover. And so Stasch had gone through the jungle in the
night, and without telling a soul. Notwithstanding Nell’s admiration for
him, she had until now unconsciously taken everything he did for her as
a matter of course; for was it not natural that an older boy should
protect a younger girl? Now she began to think that had it not been for
his care and protection she would have given out long before; that he
had done a great deal for her, gratified all her wishes, and protected
her as no other boy of his age could have done, or would do—and so her
little heart was filled with gratitude.

And when Stasch reappeared and bent over her with the medicine, she
wound her little thin arms around his neck and hugged him tight.

“Stasch, you are very good to me!”

And he replied:

“I! To whom else ought I be good? That’s a great idea! Take this
medicine.”

Nevertheless, he was greatly pleased, his eyes shone with satisfaction,
and turning toward the opening in the tree, he cried out in a voice full
of joy and pride:

“Mea! Now bring Bibi the tea!”

-----

Footnote 24:

It has lately been discovered that this same tsetse-fly innoculates
people, as well as oxen and horses, with the fatal sleeping sickness,
though it has been found that their sting only causes the sleeping
sickness in some places. At the time of the revolt of the Mahdi the
cause of this illness was not known.


                              CHAPTER XII

It was not until toward noon the following day that Stasch started out
to revisit Linde, because he had to make up for the sleep he had lost
the night before.

Thinking that the sick man might need some fresh meat, he killed two
birds on the way, which were much appreciated. Linde was very weak, but
perfectly rational. As soon as they had exchanged greetings he inquired
how Nell was; then he told Stasch that he did not think quinine alone
would cure the fever, and said that he must guard the little one against
the sun’s rays, dampness, spending the night in low, damp places, and
finally against bad water. Then, as requested, Stasch narrated his own
and Nell’s adventures from the beginning as far as their arrival in
Khartum and their visit to the Mahdi, and from Fashoda to their escape
from Gebhr’s hands, and also their later wanderings. During this story
the Swiss looked at him with growing curiosity, and often even with
evident admiration, and as the tale approached its end he lighted his
pipe, looked at Stasch once more from head to foot, and, apparently lost
in thought, said:

“If there are many boys like you in your country, it will be hard to
conquer you.”

And after a short silence he continued:

“The best proof of the truth of your words is the fact that you are
standing here before me. And what I want to say to you is this, that you
are in a terrible predicament; the route, no matter which direction you
take, is beset with dangers, but who knows whether such a brave boy as
you can not safely lead both himself and that child out of this great
wilderness!”

“If Nell would only get well again I will do everything in my power,”
cried Stasch.

“But you must take care of yourself, too, for the work that lies before
you would tax the strength of a full-grown man. Have you ever thought
where you are?”

“No; I only remember that after leaving Fashoda we passed a river—near
a large settlement called Deng.”

“The river Sobat!” interrupted Linde.

“At Deng there were many Dervishes and negroes. But on the other side of
the Sobat we entered into a region of jungle, and marched for weeks
until we arrived at the gorge, in which you know what took place——”

“I know. You then went on through the gorge till you came to that
stream. Well, now listen; it is obvious that after passing over the
Sobat with the Sudanese you turned off to the southeast, or a little
more toward the south. The country you now happen to be in is unknown to
explorers and geographers. This river near us runs northwest, and
probably empties into the Nile. I say probably, for I am not quite sure
myself, although I turned off from the mountains of Karamajo to discover
its source. After the fight the captured Dervishes told me that it was
called Ogeloguer, but even they were not sure, for they only go into
this district to hunt slaves. This land was for the most part sparsely
inhabited by the Schilluks; but now the country is devoid of human
beings, for some of the people have died of smallpox, others have been
killed by the Dervishes, and still others have fled into the mountains
of Karamajo. It often happens in Africa that a stretch of land thickly
populated to-day becomes a wilderness to-morrow. I calculate that you
are about 300 kilometers distant from Lado. In fact, you might take
refuge with Ermin in Sudan, but as it is quite likely that Ermin himself
is besieged by the Dervishes, that course is out of the question.”

“How about going to Abyssinia?” asked Stasch.

“It is also nearly 300 kilometers distant. Besides that, one must reckon
that the Mahdi is now at war with the whole world, consequently with
Abyssinia. Besides, I have heard from the prisoners that bands of
Dervishes are wandering in the western and southern districts, and you
might easily fall into their hands. Abyssinia is certainly a Christian
land, but the savage races to the south are either heathens or believers
in Islam, and for that reason they secretly sympathize with the Mahdi.
No; you can not go through that country.”

“Then what shall I do, and where shall I go with Nell?” asked Stasch.

“I told you that you are in a difficult position,” murmured Linde; then
he covered his head with his hands and remained silent a while.

“From here to the ocean,” he at last said, “would be more than 900
kilometers, through mountain regions, wild tribes, and even desert
places, for on the way there are supposed to be large tracts of arid
land. But nominally the country belongs to England. One might strike
caravans of ivory on their way to Kismaya-Lam and Mombasa, perhaps even
meet missionary expeditions. When I saw that, owing to the Dervishes, I
could not escape the course of this river, as it turns off toward the
Nile, I made up my mind to go east toward the ocean.”

“Then we will return together!” cried Stasch.

“I shall never return. The _Ndiri_ beast tore my sinews and veins so
terribly that blood poisoning must certainly set in. Only a surgeon
could save me by amputating my leg. Now it has dried up and stiffened,
but on the first day the pain was so great that I bit into my hands
and——”

“You will certainly get well.”

“No, my brave boy, I shall surely die, and you must cover me well with
stones, so that the hyenas can not dig me up. This is perhaps of little
consequence to the dead, but while alive it is not a pleasant thought.
It is hard to have to die so far away from one’s family.”

At these words his eyes became veiled, and after a while he continued:

“But I have become accustomed to the thought, so let us now talk about
you, not about me. I will give you one piece of advice: There is only
one road for you to take, which is to the east toward the ocean. But
before attempting this journey you should rest well and gather strength;
otherwise your little companion will die in a few weeks. Postpone the
journey until the rainy season is over and perhaps even longer. The
first months of summer, when it has ceased raining, and the water still
covers the swamps, are the most healthful. This place, where we now are,
is an elevated plateau lying nearly seven hundred feet above the level
of the sea. In high regions of one thousand three hundred feet there is
no fever, and if by chance it be carried there from places of lower
altitude, it assumes a much milder form. Take the little English girl
and go into the mountains with her.”

Talking evidently tired him very much, and so he paused once more, and
for a time fought off large blue flies—the same kind that Stasch had
seen in Fashoda.

Then he resumed:

“Pay strict attention to what I am going to tell you. One day’s journey
toward the south you will see an isolated mountain, not more than eight
hundred feet high. It looks like an overturned saucepan; its sides are
very steep. The only way to reach it is by a mountain pass so narrow
that in some places two horses can barely walk abreast. On its flat
summit, about a kilometer broad, there used to be a small negro village,
but the Mahdists have killed some of the inhabitants and have taken
others away with them. It may be that this was done by the very Smain I
conquered, but whose slaves I could not capture because he had already
sent them under heavy guard toward the Nile. Up there on the top is a
spring of excellent water, several fields of manioc and a quantity of
banana-trees. You will also find there many human bones, but you need
not fear that these corpses will produce a plague, for after the
Dervishes left the ants drove us away from the plain. Other than these,
not a human soul! Remain one or two months in that village. At that
height there is no fever. The nights are cool. There your little one
will regain her health and you your strength.”

“And then what shall I do, and where shall I go?”

“Leave the rest to the guidance of God. By all means try to go toward
the places in Abyssinia which are furthest away from the Dervishes, but
go toward the east. I have heard that the Arabians, hunting for ivory,
which they get from the Samburu and Wa-hima tribes, advance as far as a
certain lake.”

Now Stasch began to tell Linde how he had obtained Kali (Gebhr’s
servant) after Gebhr’s death, and also that the young negro had said
that he was the son of the chief of the Wa-himas.

But Linde was much more indifferent to this news than Stasch had
expected.

“All the better,” he said, “for he can be of use to you. Among the
blacks there are kind souls, although on the whole one can not depend on
their gratitude, because they are but children still, and forget to-day
what happened yesterday.”

“Kali will not forget that I saved him from Gebhr—I’m sure of that.”

“Possibly,” said Linde, and pointing to Nasibu, he added:

“He is also a good child. Take care of him after my death.”

“Don’t always think of death, and don’t talk of it.”

“My dear,” answered the Swiss, “I long for it—all I hope is that it
will take place without further suffering. Just think, I am now quite
helpless, and if one of the Mahdists whose band I dispersed should
accidentally wander through this narrow pass, he could slaughter me like
a lamb single-handed.”

He pointed to the sleeping negroes, and resumed:

“These will never wake, or, more correctly, each one will wake once
again shortly before his death, and will run madly through the jungle,
from which he will never return. Out of two hundred people there were
only sixty left me. Many ran away, died of smallpox, or lay down to die
in other gorges.”

Stasch gazed at the negroes, his heart full of horror and pity. Their
bodies were of an ashy gray, which in the negro signifies pallor. The
eyes of some were tightly closed, of others half open, but even these
were sleeping soundly, for the pupils of their eyes were not sensitive
to the light. The knee-joints of some were swollen. All were so terribly
emaciated that their ribs could be seen through their skin. Their hands
and feet shook incessantly and rapidly. Blue flies had settled in thick
masses on their eyes and lips.

“Is there no help for them?” asked Stasch.

“No. In the district of the Victoria-Nyanza this illness kills the
inhabitants of entire villages. Sometimes it is worse than at others.
The inhabitants of the villages lying in the woods near its banks are
most frequently attacked.”

The sun was already in the west, but before evening Linde had told
Stasch of his adventures. He said he was the son of a merchant in
Zürich, that his family had come from Karlsruhe, and that in the year
1848 they had settled in Switzerland. His father had made a great
fortune as a silk merchant. He had his son trained as an engineer, but
young Henry from his earliest youth was beset with the idea of
traveling. When he graduated from the Polytechnic School he inherited
the entire fortune of his father, and then started on his first journey
to Egypt. This took place before the time of the Mahdi, and so he got as
far as Khartum, and hunted in the Sudan with the Dongalese. He then
devoted himself to studying the geography of Africa, in which he so
excelled that he belonged to many geographical societies. This last
journey, which was to terminate so badly for him, had been undertaken
from Zanzibar. He had got as far as the great lakes and intended to
advance along the unexplored mountains of Karamajo as far as Abyssinia,
and from there to the borders of the sea. But the people of Zanzibar
would not accompany him any further. Fortunately, or unfortunately, war
was at that time raging between the kings of Uganda and Unyoro. Linde
materially assisted the king of Uganda, and the latter as a reward gave
him more than two hundred black _Agisis_. That naturally greatly
facilitated the journey and the visit to the Karamajo Mountains, but
just then the smallpox broke out among the people, followed by the
terrible sleeping-sickness, and at last the caravan was demoralized and
destroyed.

Linde had with him quantities of provisions, consisting of all kinds of
canned goods, but as he dreaded the scurvy, he hunted daily for fresh
meat. He was a splendid shot, but not a very cautious hunter.

And so it happened that a few days before, when he had foolishly
approached too near a wounded _Ndiri_ wild boar, the animal sprang up,
tore his leg terribly, and wounded him in the back. This happened quite
near this camp, and in full view of Nasibu, who tore up his own shirt
and made a bandage of it to stop the flow of blood, and brought the
wounded man back to the tent. But as the result of internal bleeding,
clumps of coagulated blood formed, and the patient was threatened with
gangrene.

Stasch insisted on bandaging him, and declared that either he would come
to see him every day, or—so as not to leave Nell alone in the care of
the two negroes—put him on a felt rug stretched out between two horses
and bring him to “Cracow.” Linde was willing to let Stasch make a new
bandage for him, but he would on no account listen to the thought of
being removed.

“I know,” he said, pointing to his negroes, “that these people must die,
but as long as death has not yet come to them I can not condemn them
while alive to be torn to pieces by the hyenas, who are only kept at a
distance during the night by the campfire.”

And he at once began to repeat feverishly:

“I can not, I can not, I can not!”

However, he soon regained his composure, and continued in a peculiarly
sad, ringing voice:

“Come here to-morrow early. I have a great favor to ask of you, and if
you grant it, God will perhaps lead you both out of this African hell,
and I will die contented. I wanted to postpone this request until
to-morrow, but as I may be unconscious to-morrow, I will tell you
to-day. Pour water into a vessel, go up to each of these poor sleeping
creatures, sprinkle water on his head, and say: ‘I baptize you in the
name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.’ ”

This he said with a voice full of emotion, and then became silent.

“I blame myself,” he said after a while, “that I did not take leave in
the same way of those who died of the smallpox and of those who died
even earlier. But now I am threatened with death—and would like
to—that is, with the remainder of my caravan, go on this last great
journey with them.”

At these words he pointed with his hand to the flaming sky, and two
large tears trickled slowly down his cheeks.

Stasch wept like a child.


                              CHAPTER XIII

On the following day the sun shone down on a strange scene. Stasch
walked alongside of the steep cliff, stood still in front of each negro,
poured water over each forehead while making the sign of the cross, and
at the same time pronounced the sacred words. And they slept—their
hands and feet shaking, their heads sunk on their chests or held
upright. Though still alive, they resembled corpses. In this manner the
sleepers were baptized in the quiet of the morning, in the light of the
sun, in the silence of the wilderness. The sky was cloudless, highly
arched, gray-blue—as if shrouded in mourning.

Linde was still rational, but became weaker and weaker. After his
bandage had been changed he gave Stasch some papers locked up in a tin
box, and begged him to be especially careful of them; then he ceased to
speak. He could not eat, but he was dreadfully tortured by thirst, and
before sunset he became delirious. He called to some children,
forbidding them to swim out so far in the lake; at last he began to have
convulsions, and afterward sat holding his head in his hands.

On the following day he could not recognize Stasch, and three days
later, at noon, he died without regaining consciousness. Stasch truly
mourned for him a while, then he and Kali carried the body to a nearby
cave, the opening of which they closed with thorns and stones.

Stasch took little Nasibu with him to “Cracow,” and ordered Kali to stay
there, to look after the provisions and keep a large fire burning near
the sleepers at night. Stasch continually rode back and forth between
the two gorges, carrying back to “Cracow” baggage, weapons, and
especially the cartridges for the Remington rifles, out of which he took
the powder he needed to blast the rock that held King a prisoner.
Fortunately Nell’s health improved very much, owing to her daily dose of
quinine, and the great variety of food had given her more appetite and
increased her strength. Stasch left her very reluctantly, and as he felt
that something might happen to her, he forbade her leaving the interior
of the tree during his absence, and closed the opening with branches of
thorny acacia. On account of the increasing duties which had fallen upon
him, he was often obliged to leave her in the care of Mea, Nasibu and
Saba, on whom, by the way, he chiefly relied. He preferred to ride
several times a day to Linde’s camp for provisions rather than leave the
girl too long. This of course meant a great deal of work, but his iron
nature was proof against all fatigue. It took ten days before the things
were properly sorted; those not especially needed were done up in canvas
and the necessary ones were deposited in “Cracow.” The horses were also
brought there, as were a large number of Remington rifles; these burdens
would now fall to the lot of King.

While this was being done, some of the sleepers sprang up in their last
paroxysm, fled wildly into the jungle, and never returned. But there
were others who died on the spot, and still others who rushed off
blindly, dashing their heads to pieces on the rocks in or near the camp.
Kali had to bury them. Two weeks later only one remained, and he soon
expired in his sleep from exhaustion.

At last the time had come to blast the rock and release King. He was now
so tame that at Stasch’s command he lifted him with his trunk and set
him up on his neck. He had also become accustomed to carrying the
burdens which Kali put upon his back by means of a bamboo ladder. Nell
was afraid that one of the pieces was too heavy for him, but the small
load he had on his back seemed no heavier for him than a fly. It was
only now that their baggage—increased by the things Linde had left
them—would be burdensome for him. At first he showed great restlessness
on the approach of Saba, but now he was quite friendly with the dog, and
played with him by throwing him down on the ground with his trunk,
whereupon Saba pretended to bite him. But sometimes he unexpectedly
poured water over the dog, which, of course, the latter considered a
very poor joke.

The children were especially pleased that the intelligent beast
understood everything that was required of him, and that he not only
paid the greatest attention to every command or request, but to every
sign given him. Elephants far outstrip all other animals in this
respect, and King greatly surpassed Saba, who only wagged his tail at
every command and threat from Nell, and then, in the end, did just what
he pleased.

For instance, after several weeks King observed that the person to be
implicitly obeyed was Stasch, and the person who engaged the attention
of every one was Nell. And thus he obeyed Stasch’s commands the most
readily, and loved Nell the dearest. He did not care much for Kali and
ignored Mea.

After Stasch had prepared the blast, he pushed it into the deepest
crack, closed the opening with clay, and only left a tiny hole, out of
which hung a fuse of twisted palm threads rubbed with ground powder. At
last the decisive moment came. Stasch lighted the powdered thread
himself, then ran for his life toward the tree, in which he had
previously shut every one. Nell was afraid that King might become
greatly alarmed, but the boy calmed her by saying that, in the first
place, he had chosen a day when there had been a heavy thunderstorm in
the morning, and, secondly, that wild elephants must have heard the
peals of thunder more than once when the elementary forces of the
heavens had been let loose over the jungle. But nevertheless they sat
there with beating hearts, counting the seconds. At last a terrible
noise shook the air. The bamboo-tree trembled from top to bottom, and
the remains of the mold still left in the tree fell down on their heads.
The next moment Stasch sprang out, and avoiding the bends in the gorge,
made a straight line for the passage.

The results of the explosion were extraordinary. One-half of the chalk
wall had broken into tiny bits, the other into larger and smaller blocks
of stone, which the force of the blast had thrown and scattered quite a
distance.

The elephant was free.

The happy boy at once ran back up the hill, where he met Nell with Mea
and Kali. King had certainly been frightened and had drawn back close to
the edge of the ravine, where he stood with upturned trunk, looking
toward the direction from which such an unusual clap of thunder had
broken out. But as soon as Nell began to call him he stopped moving his
ears from fright, and when she ran down to him through the newly opened
passage he became perfectly calm. But the horses were more frightened
than King, and two of them had fled into the jungle, so that Kali could
not find them again until toward sunset. On the same day Nell led King
back “into the world.” The colossus followed her obediently, like a
small dog. Then he took a bath in the stream, after which he thought of
supper; so leaning his head against a large sycamore-tree, he bent it
like a weak reed, and devoted all his attention to chewing up the fruit
and leaves.

In the evening he returned punctually to the tree, and sticking his
great nose into the opening every minute, he searched so carefully and
persistently for Nell that at last Stasch was obliged to give him a good
smack on his trunk.

Kali was the most pleased with the result of the day, for now he was
relieved from the task of collecting food for the giant, which had not
been at all an easy matter. While preparing a fire to cook the supper
Stasch and Nell heard him singing a new hymn of joy:

“The great man kill people and lions. Yah! Yah! Great man break up rock.
Yah! Elephant breaks his own trees, and Kali can idle and eat. Yah!
Yah!”

The “massika” or rainy season was nearly over. Of course there were
still dark and rainy days, but also some very fine days. Stasch now
decided to move over to the mountain, which Linde had told him about,
and this plan was carried out soon after King’s release. Nell’s health
no longer deterred him, for she was now decidedly better.

Selecting a fine morning, they broke up camp and started for the south.
Now they were no longer afraid of being lost, for the boy had found
among the many other articles of Linde’s outfit a compass and an
excellent telescope, through which far distant places could be plainly
seen. Besides Saba, King, and the donkey, five heavily laden horses were
taken along. King, in addition to the baggage on his back, carried Nell,
who sat on his neck between the enormous ears. She looked as though in a
large armchair. Stasch left the peninsula-shaped promontory and the
baobab-tree without regret, for the remembrance of Nell’s illness clung
to the place. But, on the other hand, the girl looked regretfully at the
rocks, the tree, and the waterfall, and said that she would return again
when she was “grown up.”

But still sadder was the little Nasibu, who had really loved his former
master. Now, as he rode on the donkey at the end of the caravan, he
turned back every minute to look at the place where the body of poor
Linde was to rest till the Day of Judgment.

The wind blew from the north, and the day was very cool. Consequently
they did not need to rest from ten to three, the hours of the greatest
heat, and therefore could go much further than caravans usually do in a
day. The journey was not long, and a few hours after sunset Stasch
perceived the mountain which was to be their destination. In the
distance another chain of hills stood out against the sky, but the
former was much nearer and stood out by itself like an island in the
middle of a jungle sea. When they approached they saw that its
precipitous sides were washed by an arm of the same river on the borders
of which they had previously lived. Its summit was shaped like a round
bowl, and seen from below, seemed to be completely covered by a thick
forest. Stasch figured that as the strip of land in which their
baobab-tree grew was 700 feet high, and this mountain 800 feet higher,
they would be living at an altitude of 1500 feet, and in a climate which
could not be much hotter than that of Egypt. The thought gave him
courage and made him desire to take possession of this natural fortress
as quickly as possible.

They soon found the mountain-pass, which was the only means of reaching
the summit, and immediately began to climb the mountain. An hour and a
half later they had reached the top. The grove they thought they had
seen from below proved to be not only a grove, but a banana-grove. The
sight of this greatly pleased them all, including King; but Stasch was
especially delighted, for he knew that in all Africa there is no food
more strengthening, more healthful, and a better preventive against
illness than flour made of dried bananas. And here was a year’s supply.

Hidden in the foliage of these plants were negro huts, some of which had
been burned during the invasion, and some destroyed by other means;
however, a few remained in fair condition. In the middle stood the
largest, which formerly belonged to the chief of the village. It had
been tastefully constructed out of clay, with a broad roof forming a
sort of veranda around the walls. Here and there in front of the huts
lay single bones and also complete human skeletons, white as chalk, for
they had been thoroughly cleaned by the ants, of whose invasion Linde
had spoken. Many weeks had passed since the invasion of the little
insects, but in the hut there was still a strong scent of formic acid,
and in the dwellings not a trace could be found of the large black
cockroaches—which usually infest the mud huts of the negroes—or
spiders, or scorpions, or any other vermin. Everything had been
destroyed by the terrible “siafu,” and so one could feel confident that
on the entire summit there was not a snake to be found, for even the
boas fall victims to these unconquerable warriors.

After Stasch had led Nell and Mea into the chieftain’s hut, he ordered
Kali and Nasibu to clear away the human bones. The black boy obeyed by
simply throwing them into the stream, and the force of the current
carried them along. But during this work they discovered that Linde had
made a mistake in telling them that they would not find a single living
being on the mountain. The quiet which reigned after the kidnapping of
the inhabitants by the Dervishes, and the tempting look of the bananas,
had enticed a great many chimpanzees, which had arranged something
resembling umbrellas, or small roofs, to protect them from the rain.
Stasch did not want to kill them, so he decided to frighten them away by
shooting into the air. This caused a general confusion, which increased
when Saba’s angry bark was heard, and King, excited by the noise, began
to trumpet vociferously. But the monkeys did not have to seek far to
find a means of retreat, for they galloped to the edges of the cliff and
let themselves down so quickly and with such agility by means of the
trees growing alongside of the banks that King was unable to capture a
single one with his trunk and tusks.

The sun had gone down, and Kali and Nasibu lighted a fire to cook the
evening meal. After Stasch had unpacked the necessary things for the
night, he wended his way to the chief’s hut, of which Nell had already
taken possession. In the hut it was light and cosy, for Nell did not
light the small lamp that had served to illuminate the interior of the
baobab-tree, but a large traveling lamp which they had found among
Linde’s things. As the day had been so cool, Nell did not feel
particularly tired after the journey. She was in a cheerful frame of
mind, which increased when Stasch told her that the bones, which had
frightened her, had been cleared away.

“How good it is to be here,” she said. “Look, even the ground is covered
with asphalt. Here we shall live luxuriously.”

“I shall wait till to-morrow before taking a good look at the whole
settlement,” answered he; “but from what I have already seen to-day I
conclude that it would be a good place to live in all one’s life.”

“If our papas were here, yes, it would then be all right. But what shall
we name this settlement?”

“In geographies this mountain is called Linde Mountain, and this village
is named ‘Nell,’ after you.”

“So, then, I shall also be represented in geography,” said she joyfully.

“Certainly; it will perpetuate your name,” answered Stasch with great
earnestness.


                              CHAPTER XIV

On the following day it rained a little, but as there were also some
hours between showers, Stasch began as soon as possible to explore his
surroundings, and by noon he had penetrated every corner. The inspection
proved very satisfactory. In the first place, Linde Mountain was the
most secure place in the whole of Africa. Monkeys alone could scale its
heights. Neither lions nor panthers could climb the plateau. As to
guarding the mountain pass, they had only to install King at the
entrance and then lie down and go to sleep peacefully. Stasch was
convinced that he could now resist attacks of small troups of Dervishes,
for the road leading to the mountain was very narrow, and one man alone,
provided he had a good gun, could block the entrance so effectually that
not a soul would be able to pass.

In the center of the “island” there bubbled forth a spring of cool,
crystal-clear water, the outlet of which was a small brook that wound
its way through the banana-grove and at last plunged over the edge of an
overhanging cliff into the river, thus forming a narrow waterfall, which
glistened like a white ribbon. On the south side of the peninsula there
were fields covered with a luxuriant growth of manioc roots, which are
much relished by the negroes. Behind these fields grew very high
cocoanut palms, their crowns shaped like beautiful feather-dusters.

A mass of jungle surrounded the “island,” and the view was very
extensive. On the east could be seen the blue chain of the Karamajo
Mountains. On the south rose high hills, which, judging from their dark
color, must have been covered with trees. On the west, however, the view
extended to the horizon, where the jungle melted into the sky. But
looking through Linde’s telescope Stasch perceived various narrow
passes, and here and there enormous trees, rising above the grasses like
churches. In some places, where the grass had not as yet grown very
high, one could see with the naked eye herds of antelopes and zebras,
elephants and buffaloes. Here and there giraffes made paths through the
gray-blue jungle like ships furrowing through the sea. Close to the edge
of the river some water-bucks were playing, while others raised their
horned heads above the deep water. In places where the surface of the
water was calmer, every now and then fish, the same kind Kali had
caught, would spring up, glitter like silver stars and then sink back
into the water. Stasch resolved that, as soon as the weather was better,
he would take Nell around and show her the menagerie. There were no
large animals on the island, but immense numbers of butterflies and
birds. Large, snow-white parrots with black beaks and yellow breasts
flew above the shrubbery, tiny whidah-birds, with beautiful plumage,
glittering like jewels, swung from the thin stalks of manioc, and from
the high branches of the cocoanut-tree could be heard the sound of the
African cuckoo and the sad, soft cooing of the turtle-dove.

Stasch returned from his inspection feeling very happy.

“The air here is good,” he said to himself; “this place is proof against
attack, there is plenty of food to be had, and in fact it is a perfect
Paradise.”

But as he entered Nell’s hut he saw that a larger animal had put in an
appearance on the island—indeed, there were two—for during his absence
Nasibu had found in the banana thicket a goat with her young one, which
the Dervishes had been obliged to leave behind. The goat was indeed
somewhat wild, but the young one immediately made friends with Nasibu,
who was very proud that he had found her, for he thought that now “Bibi”
would be able to have excellent milk every day.

                 *        *        *        *        *

“Stasch, what shall we do now?” asked Nell one day, after they had
settled down and grown accustomed to the island.

“There is plenty to do,” answered the boy, and he counted on his
outstretched fingers all the tasks awaiting them.

“To begin: Kali and Mea are heathens, and Nasibu, a child from Zanzibar,
is a Mohammedan, and so everything must be explained to them; they must
be taught the true Faith and baptized. In the second place, meat for the
coming journey must be smoked, so I must shoot it; in the third place,
as I have so many weapons and so much ammunition, I am going to teach
Kali how to shoot, so that two of us will be armed and ready to act on
the defensive; and, in the fourth place, have you forgotten about the
flying kites?”

“The flying kites?”

“Yes, that you are going to glue together, or, better still, sew
together. That will be your work.”

“I want to do something besides play.”

“That will by no means be play, but a very important work, perhaps the
most important of all. Do not imagine that one kite will amount to
anything; you must make fifty or more.”

“Why so many?” asked the girl, grown curious.

Then Stasch began to tell her his plans and hopes. He wanted to write on
each kite their names, how they had escaped from the Dervishes, where
they were to be found, and where they expected to go. He was also going
to write on them that they needed help, and to beg some one to send a
telegram to Port Said. He intended to send up these kites only when the
wind was southwest.

“Many of them,” he said, “will soon fall to the ground, but if only one
of them reaches the coast and falls into the hands of Europeans we are
saved.”

Nell was quite delighted with this idea, and declared that even King was
not a match for Stasch when it came to cleverness. Yes, she was
convinced that a great many of the kites would even fly to their papas,
and promised to glue such kites from morning till night. Her joy was so
excessive that Stasch was afraid it might bring on the fever again, and
he was therefore obliged to calm her enthusiasm.

The work which Stasch had mentioned was immediately begun in earnest.
Kali, who had been told to catch as many of the flying-fish as possible,
stopped fishing, but on the other hand he erected a high fence of thin
bamboo rods, or, to be more accurate, a kind of trellis, and this weir
he fastened across the river. In the middle of the trellis was a large
opening, through which the fish would be obliged to swim in order to
reach the open water. At this opening Kali placed a strong net made from
palm-threads, and so caught a plentiful supply of fish every day.

He drove the fish into the murderous net with the help of King, who,
being led into the water, darkened and disturbed it so that not only
those shimmering silver fish, but all other creatures living in the
water, tried to escape into the clearer depths. At this point the weir
was often damaged by crocodiles overturning the trellis in their efforts
to escape, and King himself would often overturn it, for he cherished an
inborn hatred against crocodiles. So he followed them, and as soon as
they reached shallow water he would pick them up with his trunk and
throw them on the bank, and he took the greatest satisfaction and
delight in stamping them to death.

Turtles also were often caught in the net, and of them the little
wanderers made a delicious soup. Kali prepared the fish by drying them
in the sun, but the air-bladders he brought to Nell, who cut them in
two, stretched them out on boards, and thus converted them into two
sheets of paper the size of one’s hand.

Stasch and Mea helped Nell in this work, for it was by no means easy.
The skins were thicker than the bladders of our river fish, but after
being dried they became quite brittle and were easily broken. Stasch at
last discovered that they should be dried in the shade. But sometimes
his patience was nearly exhausted, and that he did not give up the plan
of making kites out of the bladders was due to the fact that he
considered them lighter and better able to withstand the rain than
paper. Though the dry season had now begun, he was not quite sure
whether, during the summer, especially in the mountains, there would not
be showers.

But he also glued together kites made out of paper, a quantity of which
had been found among Linde’s effects. The first light, large paper kite,
which he let loose in a west wind, at once rose very high, and when
Stasch cut the string was carried by a strong current of air toward the
chain of the Karamajo Mountains. Stasch followed its flight with the aid
of a telescope until it got as small as a butterfly—yes, even until it
looked like a fly—and at last disappeared in the pale azure of the sky.
On the following day he loosed a second one, this time made of fish
bladders, which ascended even more quickly into the air, but probably
was soon lost to view because of the transparency of the skins.

It was Nell who worked most perseveringly, and her little fingers soon
became so skilful that she excelled Stasch and Mea. She was quite strong
now. The healthy climate of Linde Mountain had completely restored her.
The time for the third attack of the deadly fever to make its appearance
had passed. On that day Stasch hid himself in the banana thicket and
cried for joy. After a stay of two weeks in the mountains he noticed
that the “Good Msimu” now looked quite differently than when in the
jungle. Her cheeks had become fuller, the former yellow and transparent
complexion had disappeared, she looked rosy once more, and from beneath
her luxuriant mass of hair her eyes looked out on everything shining
with happiness. From the bottom of his heart the boy was thankful for
the cool nights, the transparent spring water, the flour from the dried
bananas, and above all, Linde.

He had become thin and sunburned, which was a proof that he would not
have the fever, for fever patients do not become tanned by the sun. He
had grown taller and more manly. His quick movements and the labors he
had performed had increased his ability and strength. The muscles of his
arms and hands, legs and feet were hard as steel. Now, in fact, he had
actually become a seasoned African traveler. As he hunted daily and used
bullets only, he had become a sure shot. He no longer feared wild
animals, for he knew that the wild and horned hunters were in more
danger from him than he was from them. At one shot he had killed a large
rhinoceros which unexpectedly attacked him. He never paid the least
attention to the numerous African buffaloes, which sometimes disperse
whole caravans.

Besides the gluing of the kites and the other daily tasks, Stasch and
Nell also set to work to convert Kali, Mea, and Nasibu, and they found
this more difficult than they had expected. The black trefoil took great
pleasure in being taught, but looked at the lessons from the negro’s
point of view. When Stasch told them of the creation of the world, of
Paradise, and the serpent, everything went well, but when he got as far
as the murder of Abel by Cain, Kali unconsciously patted his stomach and
asked with great calmness:

“And did he eat him up then?”

The black boy had always insisted that the Wa-himas never eat human
beings, but apparently the remembrance of the days when they did so
still remained with him as a national tradition.

Neither could he understand why the Lord God had not killed the “wicked
Msimu,” and many similar things. His ideas of good and evil were also
quite African, which led to the following conversation between teacher
and pupil:

“Tell me,” asked Stasch, “what is an evil deed?”

“If any one takes cows away from Kali,” he answered, after some
consideration, “that is an evil deed.”

“Excellent!” cried Stasch; “and now give me a good one.”

This time he answered at once:

“A good one—for instance—if Kali takes cows away from any one.”

Stasch was too young to know that similar ideas of good and evil are
prevalent also in Europe, and are practised by politicians and even
approved by entire nations.

But gradually light began to dawn in the black brains, and what brains
could not understand, warm hearts received. They were shortly ready for
Baptism, which was performed with great ceremony. The god-parents
presented each of the children with four doti (equal to about sixteen
yards) of white percale and a string of blue glass beads. They felt
somewhat disappointed, however, for they were so childlike that they
thought their skins would turn white immediately after Baptism, and they
were greatly surprised when they saw that they were just as black as
before. But Nell calmed them by convincing them that they now had white
souls.


                               CHAPTER XV

Stasch also taught Kali how to use the Remington rifle, and this he
learned much more easily than the catechism. After ten days’ practice
shooting at a target and at crocodiles sleeping in the sand on the river
banks, the young negro killed a large Pofir-antelope,[25] then several
gazels, and finally a Ndiri wild boar. This hunt came near ending in an
accident similar to that which had befallen Linde, for the boar,[26]
which Kali had carelessly approached after firing the shot, sprang and
flew at him with tail in the air. Kali dropped the gun, took refuge up a
tree, and sat there until his screams attracted the attention of Stasch,
who found that the wild boar had been slain.

Stasch did not as yet permit the boy to hunt for buffaloes, lions, and
rhinoceroses. Stasch would not shoot the elephants which came to the
watering-place by night, for he had promised Nell that he would never
kill one of them.

But from the mountain-top he would look through the telescope morning
and afternoon, and on seeing a herd of zebras, buffaloes, gazels, or
deer grazing in the jungle, he would follow them, taking Kali with him.
During these excursions he often questioned Kali about the Wa-hima and
Samburu tribes that they were bound to meet if they wanted to go east as
far as the seacoast.

“Kali, do you know,” he once said, “that a journey of twenty days, or if
on horseback a journey of only ten days, would enable us to reach your
country?”

“Kali not know where Wa-himas live,” answered the young negro, shaking
his head sadly.

“But I know,” said Stasch; “they live where the sun rises over a large
stretch of water.”

“Yes! yes!” cried the boy joyfully and greatly surprised. “Basso-Narok!
(Dark Water.) That is our name for big black water. Great man knows
everything!”

“No; I don’t know how the Wa-himas would welcome us should we go there.”

“Kali order them to fall on their faces before great man and good
Msimu.”

“And would they obey you?”

“Kali’s father wear leopard skin and Kali, too.”

Stasch understood that this meant that Kali’s father was a king and that
he was the eldest son and the future ruler of the Wa-himas. And so he
inquired further:

“You told me once that white travelers had visited you and that the
older people remember them?”

“Yes; and Kali has heard that they wore a great deal of percale on their
heads.”

“Ah,” thought Stasch to himself, “so they were not Europeans, but Arabs,
whom the negroes, judging from the light color of their skins and their
white clothes, mistook for white people.”

But as Kali remembered nothing about them and could give no further
description of them, Stasch put another question to him.

“Did not the Wa-himas kill any of these people dressed in white?”

“No; neither the Wa-himas nor the Samburus can do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because they said that if the earth sucked up their blood the rain
would cease.”

“I am glad they think that,” thought Stasch. Then he asked:

“Would the Wa-himas go with us as far as the sea, if I were to promise
them quantities of percale, glass beads, and weapons?”

“Kali go and also the Wa-himas, but great man must first conquer the
Samburus, who are on the other side of the water.”

“And who lives back of the Samburus?”

“Back of the Samburus there are no mountains, only a jungle, and in it
live lions.”

This ended the conversation. Stasch now constantly thought of the great
journey to the east, remembering what Linde had said about the
possibility of meeting Arabs from the coast, who trade in ivory, and
perhaps mission expeditions. He was sure that a journey like this would
be very fatiguing and dangerous for Nell, but he knew she could not stay
all her life on Linde Mountain, and that they would soon have to move
on. The best time to leave is after the rainy season, when the
infectious swamps are covered with water and the ground is still damp.
On the summit of the mountain they had not as yet felt the heat; the
nights were so cool that they had to cover themselves up to sleep. But
below, in the jungle, it was now much warmer, and he well knew that it
would soon become unbearably hot there. It now rained less and less and
the water-line of the river became lower every day; so Stasch
conjectured that the river valley would be converted into a dry bed in
summer, the like of which he had formerly seen in the desert of Libya,
and that then there would only remain a narrow stream flowing in the
middle of its bed.

But he deferred the departure from day to day. On Linde Mountain they
all—men as well as animals—felt so much at home! Nell was not only
cured of the fever, but also of her anemic condition. Stasch had no more
headaches and Kali’s and Mea’s skin began to shine like black satin.
Nasibu looked like a walking melon on thin legs, and King, as well as
the horses and the donkey, had become quite fat. Stasch knew very well
that they would not find another island like this in the midst of the
jungle during their entire journey. He looked into the future with much
foreboding, although they now had considerable assistance, and, if need
be, an important defender in King.

And so another week passed before they began making preparations for the
journey. Whenever they were not busy packing they devoted the time to
sending up kites containing the information that they were going in an
easterly direction toward a certain lake. They sent them up continually,
because a strong west wind was blowing almost a hurricane, which carried
them off over the mountains. To protect Nell from the heat Stasch made a
palanquin out of the remains of the tent; this was to be placed on the
elephant’s back, for the girl to ride in. After it had been put on King
a few times he became accustomed to the light weight, and also to having
the palanquin bound to his back with palm thongs. But this was a
featherweight in comparison to the other baggage he was expected to
carry, which Kali and Mea were now busy sorting and packing.

Little Nasibu was told to look for bananas and to rub them to flour
between two flat stones. King assisted him in picking the heavy clusters
of fruit, but they both ate so much that the bananas in the vicinity of
the huts were soon gone, and they were obliged to go to another grove,
situated at the opposite end of the plateau. Saba, who had nothing to
do, often kept them company on these expeditions.

But Nasibu came near paying for his zeal with his life, or at least a
very strange kind of imprisonment. For it happened that once when he was
gathering bananas on the edge of a steep, overhanging cliff he suddenly
saw in a crevice a horrible face, covered with black skin, with eyes
that blinked at him as it laughingly showed its front teeth. At first
the boy was nearly petrified with fear—then he began to run for his
life. But before he had gone far a hairy arm encircled him; he was
lifted into the air, and the night-black monster started off running
with him toward a gorge.

Fortunately the enormous monkey could only run on two feet; consequently
Saba, who happened to be near, easily overtook it and buried his
enormous jaws in his back. A terrible fight ensued, in which the dog,
notwithstanding his great size and strength, would certainly have been
worsted had not succor arrived in time to save him; for a gorilla can
even conquer lions, and monkeys seldom let go their prey, even when it
is a matter of regaining their freedom or their lives.[27] The gorilla,
having been attacked from behind, could not easily get at Saba, but in
spite of that he picked him up by the neck with his left hand and was
lifting him in the air when the ground shook under a heavy tread, and
King came running up.

A slight blow with his trunk was sufficient, and the terrible “forest
devil,” as the negroes call the gorilla, sank to the ground with brains
and neck crushed. But to make sure that the monster was dead, or from
his natural antipathy to it, King nailed it to the ground with his tusks
and then continued to wreak his vengeance on it until Stasch, who had
become alarmed at the roaring and screaming, came running up from the
direction of the huts, gun in hand, and ordered him to stop.

The gorilla lay in a pool of blood, which Saba began to lick up, and
King’s tusks were stained with gore. It was a very large gorilla, and,
though dead, its upturned eyes and its teeth made it still a horrible
looking object. The elephant trumpeted triumphantly, and Nasibu,
ash-gray with terror, told Stasch what had happened. For a moment he
considered whether he should fetch Nell and show her the horrible
monkey, but he dismissed the thought, for suddenly a great fear took
possession of him. Nell often went out walking alone on the island, and
might not the very same thing happen to her?

This proved that Linde Mountain was not such a safe refuge as it at
first seemed. Stasch returned to the hut and told Nell what had
happened; she listened in curiosity and fright, her eyes wide open,
continually repeating:

“You see what would have happened without King?”

“That’s right! One need not worry about a child with a nurse like him;
so while we are here don’t take a step away without him.”

“And when are we going to leave?”

“The provisions are ready, the baggage sorted, and there is nothing to
do but pack the loads on the animals; and so we can start to-morrow.”

“To see our papas?”

“If it be God’s will!” answered Stasch gravely.

-----

Footnote 25:

Bosclapha Canna.

Footnote 26:

The wild boars of Africa have a broad head, round, not three-cornered,
tusks, and a fairly long tail which they elevate when attacked.

Footnote 27:

It is true that gorillas live mostly in the forests of western Africa,
but Livingstone also met them in the east. They often carry off
children. The gorilla of East Africa is less vicious than that of the
west, for it does not kill the wounded huntsman, but is satisfied with
biting off his fingers.


                              CHAPTER XVI

They did not break up camp until several days later. They departed at
dawn—six o’clock—after a short prayer, in which they earnestly
commended themselves to God. At their head rode Stasch on horseback,
preceded by Saba. Behind him solemnly marched King, flapping his ears
and carrying on his enormous back the palanquin in which Nell and Mea
were seated; then, under Kali’s guidance, followed the horses, tied
together with a long rope, and laden with all sorts of baggage; and
little Nasibu, on the donkey—which was as fat as the boy—brought up
the rear.

At that early hour the heat did not inconvenience them very much,
although the day was fine, and from behind the Karamajo Mountains the
sun rose in great splendor from a cloudless sky. An eastern breeze
mitigated the heat of its rays. Occasionally the wind blew a gale,
waving the jungle grass like billows of the sea. Vegetation had grown so
luxuriantly after the copious showers—especially at the lower
levels—that King and the horses were covered up by the grass, so that
all that could be seen above the waving jungle was the white palanquin,
which looked like a ship sailing on a lake. After marching for an hour
they came to a dry, high plateau lying to the east of Linde Mountain,
and saw enormous thistles,[28] with stems as thick as tree trunks and
flowers as large as human heads. On the slope of many plateaus, which
from a distance looked barren, they found heather eight feet high. Other
plants, that grow very small in Europe, flourished here large as the
thistles and heather, and giant trees, standing by themselves in the
jungle, looked like church towers. Especially that species of fig-tree
known as the “daroo-tree,” whose “weeping” branches turn into new stems
on touching the ground, covered enormous areas, so that each tree made a
wilderness in itself.

From afar off the country appeared like one unbroken forest; but when
nearer it could be seen that the large trees grew only in certain
places—at various distances apart. Toward the north very few of them
could be seen, and the country seemed more like a mountainous steppe
covered with an even jungle, out of which the umbrella-shaped acacias
alone towered. The grasses there were greener, smaller, and apparently
better suited for grazing. Nell from her high seat on King’s back and
Stasch from a hillock saw larger herds of antelope than they had ever
seen before. The animals of each species grazed by themselves, or
occasionally intermingled with the gnu, boar, gazel, Ariel, female
antelope, buffalo, spring-buck, large koodoo, and others. There were a
great many zebras and giraffes to be seen. On observing the caravan in
the grass the animals stood still, threw up their heads, pricked up
their ears, and looked at the white palanquin in surprise; then they
immediately dispersed and ran away for a few hundred feet, then stared
again at the strange apparition, until they had satisfied their
curiosity, and calmly began to graze again. From time to time there
appeared in front of the caravan a rhinoceros growling and snarling, but
notwithstanding its aggressive nature and its disposition to attack
everything that comes in its way, it fled ignominiously before the
glance of King, who was only kept from following it by a command from
Stasch.

The African elephant hates the rhinoceros, and if he comes across a
fresh trail he follows it up till he finds his adversary, and, relying
on his superior strength, begins the fight in which the rhinoceros is
nearly always worsted. It was not very easy for King, who certainly had
more than one death on his conscience, to renounce his old habit, but he
was now tame and accustomed to look upon Stasch as his master;
therefore, on hearing his voice, and seeing his bright and threatening
eyes, the beast dropped his upturned trunk, drew in his ears, and calmly
walked on. Though Stasch would have enjoyed seeing a fight between these
giants, he was afraid of its effect on Nell. If the elephant were to
gallop, the palanquin might fall to pieces, or, what would be worse, the
enormous animal might knock it against a tree; so Nell’s life would be
in great danger. From the tales of the chase which Stasch had read when
at Port Said he learned that in India people hunting tigers are more
afraid that the elephant, in the excitement of the chase, might knock
the small tower against a tree than they are even of the tigers.
Besides, the giant gallops so clumsily that to ride like that any length
of time would endanger one’s health.

On the other hand, the presence of King obviated many dangers. The
vicious buffaloes they met that day on their way to the small lake,
where all the animals in the neighborhood congregated at nightfall, also
fled when he looked at them, and ran to the other side of the lake to
drink. With his left foot tied to a tree, King guarded the tent in which
Nell slept, and this so thoroughly protected her that although Stasch
kept a fire burning, he thought it unnecessary to build a hedge around
the camp, although he knew that there must certainly be lions in the
vicinity of so many herds of antelope; in fact, some of them began to
roar that very night among the enormous juniper-trees[29] on the
mountain slope. Attracted by the scent of the horses, they approached
the camp, notwithstanding the burning fire, but when King could no
longer stand their constant roaring, and began to send forth his
threatening, thunder-like trumpeting, they quieted down humbly, for they
seemed to know that they had better not come in contact with such an
antagonist. After this the children slept soundly for the remainder of
the night, and they did not continue their journey until daybreak.

But now Stasch was to have new troubles and worries. He noticed that
they were traveling very slowly and that they could not cover more than
ten kilometers a day. If they progressed no faster than that they would
certainly not reach the borders of Abyssinia in a month, but as Stasch
had decided to follow Linde’s advice implicitly (he had distinctly said
that they would not be able to reach Abyssinia), the road to the ocean
was the only one that they could take. But according to the calculation
made by the Swiss, more than a thousand kilometers lay between them and
the ocean; that is, in a direct line; for by way of Mombasa, which lies
in a more southerly direction, it is farther away, and it would take
more than three months to make the journey. Stasch was terrified when he
thought that this meant three months of fatigue, excitement, and danger
from encounters with tribes of negroes. Now they were still in a barren
country, depopulated by smallpox and rumors of attacks by the Dervishes;
but as, on the whole, Africa is fairly well populated, sooner or later
they were bound to come to places inhabited by strange tribes, which
would probably be ruled by savage and treacherous chiefs. It was no easy
task to retain one’s freedom and one’s life amid such dangers.

Therefore Stasch calculated that if they could come across the Wa-hima
tribe he would teach several of the warriors how to shoot, and by making
great promises would induce them to accompany their party to the ocean.
But Kali had not the least idea where his tribe lived, and Linde, who
had heard something about them, could neither tell how to reach them,
nor could he give an exact description of the place where they lived.
Linde had also mentioned having heard about a large lake, and Kali
distinctly declared the Wa-hima live on one side of this lake, which he
called Basso-Narok, on the other side of which the Samburu live. But now
Stasch was worried because that lake was not mentioned in the geography
of Africa, which he had studied carefully at school in Port Said. If
Kali had been the only one to mention it Stasch would have supposed it
to be Victoria-Nyanza, but Linde could not have made a mistake like that
if he had marched from Victoria Lake northward along the Karamajo
Mountains. Stasch came to the conclusion, after questioning the
inhabitants of these mountains, that this mysterious lake ought to lie
further to the east and north. Stasch did not know what to think of all
this; he was also afraid he might miss the lake and come across the
Wa-himas or other savage tribes, arid jungles, impassable mountains, the
tsetse-flies, which might kill the animals, the sleeping-sickness, the
fever for Nell, the heat, and worst of all those interminable distances
which still separated them from the ocean.

But having left Linde Mountain, the only thing to do was to advance
steadily due east. Linde had said that this was a journey to tax the
strength of an experienced and energetic explorer to the utmost, but
Stasch had already had great experience, and for Nell’s sake he
determined not to think of himself and to spare no energy to accomplish
his purpose. For the present it was necessary to save the girl’s
strength, and so he decided to travel only between six and ten o’clock
in the morning, and from three to six o’clock in the evening, when there
happened to be no water at their first halting-place. However, as there
had been plenty of rain during the rainy season, they found water
everywhere. The small lakes formed on the lowlands by the showers were
still well filled, and here and there rivers of crystal-clear cold water
flowed from the mountains; these were very inviting to bathe in, and
also very safe, for crocodiles only live in larger streams where there
are plenty of fish, upon which they chiefly subsist. As Stasch had found
a very good filter among Linde’s things, he did not allow the girl to
drink unfiltered water. The filter always surprised Kali and Mea, for
they saw that, though filled with clouded and whitish water, only clean
and clear water flowed from it into the reservoir beneath. At this they
laughed and slapped their knees, to show their pleasure and surprise.

On the whole the beginning of their journey was made by easy stages.
They had received from Linde large supplies of coffee, tea, sugar,
bouillon, various canned goods, and all kinds of medicines. Stasch was
not sparing of these, for they had more than they could take with them.
They also had plenty of utensils of all kinds, weapons of various
caliber, and rockets, which would be of great service when meeting
negroes. The country was very fertile, and there was plenty of fruit and
fresh meat. In the lowlands they occasionally came across swamps, which
had not evaporated sufficiently to poison the air with their deadly
odors, being still covered over with water. At this height there were no
mosquitoes to innoculate one with the fever; still, the altitude did not
prevent it from becoming unbearably hot by ten o’clock. The small
travelers made a halt during the so-called “white hours” in the deep
shade of large trees, through the thick foliage of which not a ray of
sun could penetrate. And so Nell, Stasch, and the negroes kept in
excellent health.

-----

Footnote 28:

Eschinops giganteus grows in this country and is especially abundant in
Abyssinia.

Footnote 29:

In Abyssinia in the Karamajo Mountains, the juniper trees attain a
height of fifty feet.


                              CHAPTER XVII

On the fifth day of their journey Stasch rode with Nell on King, for
they had come to a broad belt of acacias, which were so thick that the
horses had to follow in the path made by the elephant. It was now early
in the morning, and the landscape was glistening, fresh with dew. The
children talked about the journey, and how every day was bringing them
nearer to their fathers, for both children had never ceased to long for
them since they were taken from Fayoum; their conversation centered
around this subject, and they always ended by weeping. They repeated
over and over again the same thoughts: their fathers think that they are
now dead, or that they have disappeared never to return; both are
grieving, and, although hope is well nigh dead, they send Arabians to
Khartum to try to get news of them, and all this time they are not only
far away from Khartum, but also from Fashoda—in five days they will be
even further off—then further and further still, and at last they will
reach the ocean, or perhaps before they come to the sea they may reach a
place where they can send a telegram. The only person in the caravan who
knew what they had before them was Stasch, while Nell was positively
convinced that there was nothing in the world that he could not achieve,
and she was quite sure that he would bring her to the coast. So she
anticipated events, and planned in her little head more than once what
would happen when the first news of them should be received. Chirping
like a little bird, she told Stasch about it. “Our papas,” she said,
“are sitting in Port Said, and they are weeping; then suddenly a boy
comes in with a telegram. What’s that? Either your papa or mine opens
it, looks at the signature and reads: ‘Stasch and Nell!’ How happy they
are! They will make all haste to meet us! There will be joy in the whole
house! Our papas and every one in the house will be happy—they will be
delighted and will immediately come driving up. I shall fall on papa’s
neck; then we shall always be together, and——”

And the tale ended with Nell’s chin beginning to tremble, her beautiful
eyes turning into two fountains, and finally by leaning her little head
on Stasch’s shoulder and crying for sorrow, longing, and joy at the
thought of the future meeting. Stasch rather imagined that his father
would be proud of him and would say to him: “You have acted like a true
Pole,” and he was then overcome by emotion, great longing, and
enthusiasm, and an immovable courage, hard as steel, took possession of
his heart. “I _must_,” he said to himself in these moments, “save Nell.
I _must_ go through these trials.” Then it seemed to him that there were
no dangers he could not face, no obstacles he could not overcome.

But the final victory was far off yet. They worked their way through the
grove of acacias, the long thorns of the bushes tearing even the hide of
the elephant. Eventually more light penetrated the forest, and through
the branches of the scattered trees a gray jungle could be seen in the
distance. Although the heat was very oppressive, Stasch climbed out of
the palanquin, settled himself on King’s neck, and looked around in
search of herds of antelope or zebras, for he determined to provide more
meat for them to eat.

To the right he saw two gazels and beyond them two ostriches. On passing
the last group of trees the elephant turned off to the left, and then a
different sight presented itself to the boy. Half a kilometer away he
saw a very large field of manioc, and on the edge of the field several
black people, apparently busy working.

“Negroes!” he cried out, turning to Nell.

His heart began to beat violently. For a moment he hesitated whether he
should not return and hide in the acacias, but it occurred to him that
in an inhabited district one must sooner or later be obliged to meet its
inhabitants and have relations with them, and that the fate of their
journey would depend on the nature of these relations; so after quick
reflection he guided the elephant toward the field.

At the same moment Kali also appeared, and pointing to the group of
trees, said:

“Great Man, over there is a negro village, and women are working in the
manioc fields. Shall I ride to them?”

“We will ride there together,” answered Stasch, “and then you will tell
them that we come as friends.”

“Sir, I know what to say to them,” cried the young negro, feeling his
great importance.

Turning his horse toward the workers, he placed his hands trumpet-like
to his mouth and cried:

“Jambo he! Jambo sana!”

When the women, who were very busy digging up the manioc roots, heard
his voice, they sprang up and stood as if rooted to the spot; but this
quiet only lasted a moment, for they began to scream and run off toward
the trees, in the midst of which the village lay, in their excitement
leaving their hoes and rakes behind them.

The small wanderers approached this village slowly and silently. The
thicket resounded with the howling of several hundred voices; then
silence reigned. At last the hollow, penetrating beating of a drum was
heard, which continued incessantly for some time.

This was evidently to call the warriors to war, for suddenly more than
three hundred of them appeared from out of the bushes, and they all
stood in one long line before the village. When a hundred feet distant
Stasch brought King to a standstill and began to look at them. The sun
beat down on their well-formed bodies, on their broad chests, and their
strong shoulders. They were armed with bows and spears. Around their
hips they wore short skirts of heather or monkey skin. Their heads were
adorned with ostrich and parrot feathers or large wigs made of baboons’
scalps. They looked warlike and menacing, but stood silent and
immovable, for they were so utterly astonished that their inclination to
fight was kept within bounds. All eyes were fixed on King, on the white
palanquin, and on the white person sitting on the neck of the elephant.

And yet elephants were not strangers to them. On the contrary, they were
continually at the mercy of elephants, for at night whole herds would
destroy their manioc fields and their plantations of bananas and palms.
As spears and arrows can not pierce an elephant’s hide, the poor negroes
fought against the mischief-makers by means of fire and screams, in
which they imitated the crowing of cocks, and they dug out trenches and
made traps with tree trunks. But they had never seen an elephant made
the slave of man and allowing him to sit on its neck; and none of them
was able to account for this extraordinary sight. What they saw so
transcended their wildest imaginations that they did not know what
course to pursue—whether to fight or to run away as fast as their feet
could carry them and leave the rest to chance. Full of doubt, fear, and
surprise, they continually whispered to one another:

“Oh, mother! What are these beings who come here to us, and how will
they be disposed toward us?”

Kali, who had ridden up to within a spear’s throw of them, raised
himself up in his stirrups and cried:

“People, people! Listen to the voice of Kali, the son of Fumba, the
powerful king of the Wa-himas, who live on the banks of the
Basso-Narok— Oh, hear, hear!— And if you understand him, listen to
every word he is going to say!”

“We understand,” rang the answer from three hundred throats.

“Let your king advance, let him tell me his name, and let him open his
ears and lips so that he can hear better.”

“M’Rua! M’Rua!” many voices began to cry out.

M’Rua stepped out of the rank and file, but took only three steps
forward. He was an aged negro, tall and strongly built, but who
evidently had no courage to spare, for his legs trembled so that he had
to dig the point of his spear into the ground and to lean on its hilt to
keep from falling.

Other warriors followed his example, and dug their spears into the
ground, as a sign that they wished to listen peacefully to the tidings
of the stranger.

Thereupon Kali declaimed at the top of his voice:

“M’Rua, and you, M’Rua’s people! You have heard that the son of the king
of the Wa-himas is talking to you, whose cows cover the mountains around
the Basso-Narok as ants cover the carcass of a dead giraffe. And what is
Kali, the son of the king of the Wa-himas, saying? He is telling you a
great piece of good news, which is that the ‘good Msimu’ has come to
your village!”

Then he cried still louder:

“So it is—the good Msimu! Doo!”

From the silence that ensued one could readily guess what a tremendous
effect Kali’s words had aroused. The warriors began to separate and then
to form in groups; some advanced a few steps through curiosity, whilst
others drew back through fear. M’Rua leaned with both hands on his
spear, and for a short time perfect silence ensued, followed by a slight
whispering through the ranks, and one voice at a time repeated:

“Msimu! Msimu!” and here and there the cries: “Yancig! Yancig!” which
expressed admiration and welcome, were to be heard.

But Kali’s voice rose again above the noises and screams.

“Gaze and be happy! The good Msimu is sitting over there in the white
hut on the back of the large elephant, and the large elephant obeys it
like a slave obeys his master and a child obeys his mother. Oh, neither
you nor your fathers have ever seen anything like this——”

“No, no! We have never seen anything like this! Yancig! Yancig!”

The eyes of all the warriors turned to the “hut,” in other words, to the
palanquin.

And Kali, who in the course of the religious training he had received on
Linde Mountain had been told that faith can move mountains, was quite
convinced that the prayer of the white “Bibi” was all powerful with God,
and so he continued to speak, as he thought truthfully, about the good
Msimu.

“Listen! Listen! The good Msimu is riding on the elephant to that
country in which the sun rises out of the water behind the mountains.
There the good Msimu will tell the Great Spirit to send you clouds, and
these clouds will, in seasons of drought, water your millet, your
manioc, your bananas, and the grass in the jungle, so that you will have
plenty to eat, and your cows will have good fodder and will give rich
milk. Do you, oh people, need food and milk?”

“He! We need it! We need it!”

“And the good Msimu will tell the Great Spirit to send you a wind which
will blow away from your village that sickness which honeycombs the
body. Do you, oh people, want it to blow the sickness away?”

“He! Let it blow it away!”

“And at the prayer of the good Msimu the Great Spirit will protect you
from attacks, from slavery, from damage to your fields, from lions, from
panthers, from snakes and from locusts——”

“He! Let him do it!”

“Now listen, look and see who sits in front of the hut between the ears
of the terrible elephant. There is Bwana Kubwa, the white man, great and
strong, whom even the elephant fears.”

“He!”

“Who has thunder in his hands and uses it to kill bad men.”

“He!”

“Who kills lions.”

“He!”

“Who sends up fiery snakes!”

“He!”

“Who breaks rocks!”

“He!”

“But who will do you no harm if you will respect the good Msimu!”

“Yancig! Yancig!”

“And if you will bring him dried banana flour, eggs, fresh milk, and
honey.”

“Yancig! Yancig!”

“Then come nearer and fall on your faces before the good Msimu.”

M’Rua and his warriors started off, repeating continuously, “Yancig!
Yancig!” Then approaching cautiously, they moved a short distance
nearer, for their steps were halted by their superstitious fear of the
Msimu and the elephant. The sight of Saba also filled them with terror,
for they took him to be a “wobo,” a large golden leopard, inhabiting
that district and also southern Abyssinia, which the natives fear more
than a lion because it is especially fond of human flesh, and is even
bold enough to attack armed men. But they were pacified on seeing that
the little fat-faced negro held the terrible “wobo” by a leash. This
gave them a still higher conception of the power of the good Msimu, and
also of the white man, and while looking first at the white elephant,
then at Saba, they whispered to each other: “If they have even bewitched
wobo, who in the world can struggle successfully against them?” But the
most solemn moment was when Stasch, turning to Nell, bowed low and then
pushed back the sides of the palanquin, which were arranged like
curtains, and showed the good Msimu to the assembled multitude. M’Rua
and every one of the warriors fell on their faces, so that their bodies
formed a long, living bridge. None dared to move, and all hearts were
even more terror-stricken when just at that very moment King, either by
order of Stasch or of his own accord, threw up his trunk and began to
trumpet very loud, and Saba followed his example in the deepest bass
which he could muster. Then there rang out from the hearts of all the
warriors a cry like a beseeching groaning: “Aka! Aka! Aka!” and this
lasted a long while, until Kali continued:

“Oh, M’Rua and you children of M’Rua! You have now done reverence before
the good Msimu; so arise and fill your eyes with the sight of it, for
whoever does this, over him will be the blessing of the Great Spirit.
Banish all fear from your hearts, and know that where the good Msimu is,
human blood can not be shed.”

At these words, and especially after the explanation that on account of
the good Msimu none could be carried away by death, M’Rua stood up, and
the other warriors followed his example, and they began shyly, but also
with great curiosity, to gaze at the gracious godhead. If Kali had asked
them a second time, they would certainly have had to confess that
neither their fathers nor they had ever seen anything like this. For
their eyes were accustomed to mask-like, grotesque figures of idols,
made out of wood and hairy cocoanuts, and now there stood before them on
the back of the elephant a blonde, gentle, sweet, and smiling godhead,
resembling a white bird and a white flower, and so they gained
confidence; their hearts breathed freely once more, their thick lips
began to smile, and unconsciously stretching their hands out toward the
wonderful apparition, they cried:

“Oh, Yancig! Yancig! Yancig!”

But Stasch, who noticed everything that was going on, perceived as soon
as Kali stopped speaking that a negro, adorned with a pointed cap of
ratskin, had slipped out of line, and, gliding along in the grass like a
snake, had gone in the direction of a solitary hut lying at the rear of
the enclosure, which was surrounded by a high railing held together by
creepers.

Meanwhile the good Msimu, though greatly embarrassed by being set up as
a godhead, put out her little hand at Stasch’s request and greeted the
negroes. The black warriors, their eyes shining with pleasure, followed
every movement of this little hand, believing that it possessed a
powerful charm, which would protect them against many misfortunes. Some,
whilst striking their cheeks and hips, said: “Oh, mother! Now everything
will go well with us—with us and with our cows!” M’Rua, who had already
become quite familiar, approached the elephant, prostrated himself,
striking the ground with his forehead, before the good Msimu, and whilst
kneeling said to Stasch:

“Would the Great Man, who leads the white godhead on the elephant, like
to eat a piece of M’Rua and would he agree to let M’Rua eat a piece of
him, so that we shall be brothers, between whom there is no deceit or
treason?”

Kali immediately interpreted these words, but as he saw by Stasch’s face
that the latter had no inclination to taste a “piece” of M’Rua, he
turned to the negro and said:

“Oh, M’Rua! Do you really think that the white man, who is so powerful
that the elephant fears him, who has the thunder within his grasp, who
kills lions, before whom wobo wags his tail, who commands fiery snakes
to rise up into the sky, and who shatters rocks—do you think that he
can pledge blood brotherhood with any king he may happen to meet? But
rather think whether the Great Spirit will not punish you for being so
presumptuous and whether it will not be honor enough for you to eat a
piece of Kali, the son of Fumba, the ruler of the Wa-hima, and Kali, son
of Fumba, to eat a piece of you.”

“Are you his slave?” asked M’Rua.

“The Great Man neither stole nor bought Kali, but only saved his life;
that is why Kali leads the good Msimu and the man into the land of the
Wa-hima, so that the Wa-hima and Fumba can show them respect and bring
them many presents.”

“Let it be as you say, and M’Rua shall eat a piece of Kali, and Kali a
piece of M’Rua!”

“So let it be!” repeated the warriors.

“Where is the sorcerer?” asked the king.

“Where is the sorcerer? Where is the sorcerer? Where is Kamba?” at once
cried many voices.

Then something happened that might have completely changed the
situation, clouded the friendly relations, and converted the negroes
into the enemies of their newly arrived guests. From the hut which stood
apart, surrounded by a special fence, there suddenly came an infernal
noise. It was like the roar of a lion, the clap of thunder, the blast of
trumpets, the laugh of a hyena, the howl of a wolf, and the terrible
squeak of rusty hinges. When King heard these awful sounds he began to
roar, Saba began to bark, and the donkey, on which Nasibu sat, to cry
out “J-a!” The warriors sprang up as if drenched with boiling water and
tore their spears out of the ground. Terrible confusion ensued. The
disturbing cries of “Our Msimu! Our Msimu!” reached Stasch’s ears, and
the respect and good-will with which the negroes had looked upon the
newcomers disappeared in an instant. The savages began to throw
suspicious and hostile glances around. Amongst the crowd a threatening
noise was heard and the awful din in the lonely hut increased more and
more.

Kali was troubled, and bending over quickly to Stasch, he began to
whisper—his voice filled with emotion and fright:

“Sir, the sorcerer has awakened the bad Msimu, who fears that he will
not receive any presents, and is roaring with rage. Sir, pacify the
sorcerer and the bad Msimu with generous gifts—otherwise these people
will turn against us.”

“Pacify them!” cried Stasch.

He suddenly became enraged against the wickedness and covetousness of
the sorcerer. He was also greatly alarmed at this unlooked-for danger.
The expression of his tanned face changed, just as it had done when he
shot down Gebhr, Chamis, and the two Bedouins. His eyes shone
threateningly and he bit his lips, clenched his fists, and his cheeks
grew pale.

“Ah! I will soon pacify them!” he said.

Without wasting any time, he led the elephant toward the hut.

Kali, who was afraid to remain alone among the negroes, followed him.
Then rose from the warriors a loud cry, whether of fear or rage it was
hard to tell, but before they could regain their composure the railing
creaked and broke down under the shock of the elephant’s head, the clay
walls of the hut fell apart, the roof caved in, a cloud of ruins and
dust flew into the air, and after a while M’Rua and his people saw the
long, black, upturned trunk on the end of which was the sorcerer, Kamba.

[Illustration:  “The People saw the long, black trunk, on the end of
which was the sorcerer, Kamba.” ]

Stasch, who saw on the floor of the hut a large drum made out of a
hollowed-out tree, and covered with a monkey-skin, made Kali give it to
him, and turning around, he stood facing the warriors, looking straight
into their eyes:

“Hear, O people!” he said in a loud, resounding voice; “it was not your
Msimu who roared, but only that villain there, who pounds the drum to
wring presents from you, and you are as afraid of him as children!”

At these words he took hold of the string which was drawn through the
dried skin of the drum and began to pull at it and twist it with all his
might. The same sounds which had terrified the negroes before now rang
out again, only much louder, for the walls of the hut did not smother
them.

“Oh, how foolish are M’Rua and his children!” cried Kali.

Stasch handed him the drum, and Kali beat so frantically that for a
while one could not hear one’s self talk. When he tired of this he threw
the drum at M’Rua’s feet, and ’mid shrieks of laughter said:

“That thing is your Msimu!”

Then, chattering, after the custom of negroes, he addressed the
warriors, and was by no means sparing in expressing his contempt for
them and for M’Rua, and in holding them up to ridicule. He pointed to
Kamba and explained to them that “this thief in the rat-skin cap” had
deceived them for many a rainy and dry season, and that they had
rewarded him by feeding him with beans, young goats, and honey. Is it
possible that there could be a more stupid king and a more stupid people
than these? They believed in the power of an old witch and in his
witchcraft, and now they see how this great sorcerer hangs from the
trunk of an elephant and cries “Aka!” begging mercy of the white man.
Where is his power now? Where is his witchcraft? Why does Msimu not roar
to protect him? Ah, what sort of thing is your Msimu? A strip of monkey
skin and a piece of a rotten tree-trunk, which the elephant has
destroyed. Neither the women nor the children of the Wa-himas would have
been afraid of such a Msimu, and M’Rua and his men were afraid of it!
There is only one real Msimu and one really great and powerful man, and
to him they ought to show respect and bring as many presents as they
can, for otherwise they will be afflicted with misfortunes such as they
had never dreamed of.

This harangue to the negroes was quite unnecessary, for the sorcerer
with his wicked Msimu had proved himself to be weaker than the new god
in such an extraordinary manner, and Stasch satisfied them so well, that
they forswore their allegiance to the sorcerer and covered him with
shame. Again they cried out, “Yancig!” even more humbly and earnestly
than before. They were so angry now with themselves for having been
deceived by Kamba during many years that they insisted on killing him.
M’Rua begged Stasch to let them bind him and keep him until they had
invented a death of dreadful torture for him. But Nell decided to spare
his life, and as Kali had told them that no human blood could be shed in
presence of the good Msimu, Stasch only permitted them to drive the
unhappy sorcerer from the village with shame and ignominy.

Kamba, who feared he would be put to death by their cleverly devised
tortures, fell on his face before the good Msimu, and weeping bitterly,
thanked her for his deliverance. From this time forth there was nothing
to mar the awe they inspired. Women and children now came from behind
the fence, for the news of the extraordinary guest had already spread
throughout the entire village, and the desire to see the white Msimu was
greater than their fear of her. For the first time in their lives Stasch
and Nell saw a settlement of real savages, who had never been visited
even by Arabs. The clothing of these negroes consisted only of heather
aprons or of a skin wound around the hips, and every one was tattooed.
The men as well as the women had their ears pierced, and through these
holes they had thrust such long pieces of wood or bone that the lobes of
their ears were drawn down to their shoulders. In their lower lips they
wore a lip-ring, a round piece of wood or bone the size of a saucer.
Those of highest rank, such as warriors and their wives, wore around
their necks steel or brass wire collars, so high and stiff that they
could scarcely turn their heads.

They evidently belonged to the Schilluk tribe, which reached far toward
the east, for Kali and Mea knew their language well, and Stasch could
understand some things they said. Their legs were not so long as those
of their compatriots who live in the district of the Nile; they were of
shorter stature, their shoulders were broader, and they looked less like
wattle-birds. The children resembled large fleas, and not being
disfigured by the pelele, they were decidedly better looking than the
grown people.

After the women had stared long enough at the good Msimu from a
distance, they vied with the warriors in bringing presents, young goats,
fowls, eggs, black beans, and beer made from millet. This lasted until
Stasch forbade them to bring any more. He paid them generously with
glass beads and colored percale, and Nell distributed tiny mirrors among
the children; and so there was great rejoicing throughout the village
and joyful cries resounded about the tent occupied by the little
travelers. Then the warriors held a war-dance and a skilfully devised
sham battle in honor of the guests, after which one of the warriors
suggested the cementing of a bond of fellowship between Kali and M’Rua.

As Kamba, who was usually one of the principal figures in such a
ceremony, had gone off, an old negro who was very familiar with the
formula took his place. After he had killed a young goat, removed the
liver and divided it in several large pieces, he began to twirl around
on hands and feet like a fly-wheel, and looking first at Kali, then at
M’Rua, said in a solemn voice:

“Kali, the son of Fumba, will you eat a piece of M’Rua, the son of
M’Kuli—and you, M’Rua, son of M’Kuli, will you eat a piece of Kali, the
son of Fumba?”

“We will!” cried the future brothers.

“Do you wish that Kali’s heart should be M’Rua’s heart, and M’Rua’s
heart should be Kali’s heart?”

“We wish it!”

“And the hands, the spears, and the cows?”

“And the cows!”

“And everything which either one possesses now or will possess?”

“Whatever he possesses and will possess!”

“And that between you there shall be neither falsehood, treason, nor
hate?”

“Nor hate!”

“And that neither of you shall rob the other?”

“Never!”

“And that you are brothers?”

“Yes!”

The man who was whizzing around like a top turned quicker and quicker.
The warriors assembled and followed his movements with ever-increasing
interest.

“Ao!” cried the old negro once more; “but if one of you lie to the
other, betray him, rob him, poison him, or kill him, he shall be
accursed!”

“He shall be accursed!” repeated all the warriors.

“And if he be a liar and contemplate treason, he shall not swallow the
blood of his brother, but spit it out before our eyes?”

“Oh, before our eyes!”

“And he shall die!”

“He shall die!”

“Wobo shall tear him to pieces!”

“Wobo!”

“Or a lion!”

“Or a lion!”

“An elephant shall tread him down; yes, and a rhinoceros and buffalo!”

“Oh, and a buffalo!” repeated the chorus.

“And a snake shall bite him!”

“A snake!”

“And his tongue shall turn black!”

“Black!”

“And his eyes shall drop out of his head!”

“Out of his head!”

“And he shall walk with his heels in the air!”

“Ha! with his heels in the air.”

Stasch and Kali had to bite their lips to keep from laughing while still
more terrible oaths were being repeated, and the “top” turned around so
fast that their eyes could not follow its movements. The old negro kept
this up until his strength was exhausted and his breath gave out. Then
he sat down on the ground a while and swayed his head from side to side.
Soon he arose, and grasping a knife, cut Kali’s arm and moistening a
piece of the goat’s liver with his blood, pushed it into M’Rua’s mouth,
and a second piece moistened with the blood of the king he pushed into
Kali’s mouth. Both men swallowed the pieces so quickly that a rattling
noise could be heard in their throats and their eyes nearly started out
of their heads; then they held each other by the hand, as a sign of true
and eternal friendship.

Then the warriors exclaimed joyfully:

“Both men have swallowed it! Neither of them spit it out! Therefore they
are sincere and there is no treachery between them.”

And in his heart Stasch thanked Kali for having represented him at this
ceremony, for he felt that had he attempted to swallow a piece of M’Rua
he might have proved himself insincere and a traitor.

Henceforth the little travelers were in no danger of having snares laid
for them or of being unexpectedly attacked by the savages; on the
contrary, the greatest friendship was shown them, and they were almost
worshiped as gods. This worship increased when Stasch, having noticed a
great fall in Linde’s barometer, foretold that rain was coming, and on
that very day it rained quite heavily, as heavily as if the “massika,”
which was already over, was trying to squeeze out its last drops on the
earth. The negroes were convinced that the good Msimu had given them
this shower of rain, and their gratitude to Nell was boundless. Stasch
teased her, saying that now she was the idol of the negroes, he could
continue the journey alone, and would leave her behind in the negro
village, where the negroes would erect a small chapel of elephants’
tusks for her and would bring her beans and bananas as peace offerings.

But Nell felt so sure of his attachment to her that she simply reached
up on her tip-toes and whispered in his ear: “You will not leave me
behind!” Then she began to hop with joy, declaring that as the negroes
were so kind the journey to the ocean could be readily and quickly made.
All this took place in front of the tent before the assembled multitude,
and when old M’Rua saw the Msimu happy, he also began to hop as high as
his crooked legs would let him, believing that in this way he was
demonstrating his piety. Following his example, the chief officers began
to dance, and so did the warriors, the women, and children, and in fact
all the inhabitants of the village hopped about as though bereft of
their senses. This exhibition given by the “idol” amused Stasch so much
that he laughed himself almost sick.

On the following night he earned the everlasting gratitude of the pious
king and his subjects, for when some elephants raided the banana-fields,
he rode toward them on King and set off several rockets into their
midst. The panic which the fiery “snakes” created was even greater than
he had expected. The enormous animals, dreadfully frightened, filled the
whole jungle with the sound of their trumpeting and their stamping, and
in blind haste they knocked one another down. The powerful King took
great pleasure in following his fleeing comrades, and struck at them
unsparingly with his trunk and tusks. After such a night it would be a
long time before another elephant would dare approach the banana
plantations of the village ruled over by old M’Rua.

The dispersal of the elephants was followed by great rejoicing in the
village, and the negroes spent the whole night dancing and drinking
millet-beer and palm-wine. Kali then learned many important things from
them, for it so happened that several of them had come from the borders
of a large sheet of water surrounded by mountains and lying toward the
east. This proved to Stasch that the lake, which he had never seen
mentioned in any geography, really existed, and that if they continued
in the same direction they would meet the Wa-himas. From the fact that
Mea and Kali spoke almost the same language, he argued that “Wa-hima”
was probably a local name, and that the tribes living on the banks of
the Basso-Narok belonged to the Schilluks, whose country extended from
the Nile far away toward the east. At the time of the Mahdi these places
were still unexplored.


                             CHAPTER XVIII

The whole population escorted the good Msimu quite a distance, and took
leave of her with tears in their eyes, at the same time earnestly
begging her to condescend to visit M’Rua once again and occasionally to
think of his people. Stasch considered a moment whether he should tell
the negroes about the gorge where he had hidden the goods and provisions
left him by Linde, which—on account of the lack of baggage-carriers—he
could not take with him, but when he realized that the possession of
such riches might awaken their covetousness, cause them to be jealous,
disturb the tranquillity of their lives, and set them to fighting, he
dismissed this idea; but he shot a large buffalo and left them its
carcass for a parting feast. The sight of such a quantity of “Nyama”
satisfied them.

The next three days the caravan went through a barren stretch of land.
The days were hot, but the nights, on account of the altitude, were so
cold that Stasch found it necessary to have Nell covered up with two
rugs. They now often passed over narrow mountain passes, sometimes
barren and hilly, sometimes covered with such thick vegetation that they
had difficulty in winding their way through them. On the edges of these
ravines they saw large monkeys, and here and there also lions and
panthers, which had taken refuge in the rocky caves. At Kali’s request
Stasch killed one of the animals, and then Kali put on its skin to
impress the negroes with the fact that they had to reckon with a person
of kingly blood.

On a tableland beyond the narrow passes negro hamlets again appeared.
Sometimes they were in groups, sometimes one or two days’ journey apart.
As a protection against lions all the huts were surrounded by high
fences, so interwoven and overrun with vines that even at a short
distance they appeared like the undergrowth of a forest. The smoke
rising from the center of the huts was the only indication that they
were inhabited. The caravan was as welcome everywhere as it had been in
M’Rua’s village, first exciting fear and mistrust, and then surprise,
admiration, and respect. Only on one occasion did the sight of the
elephant, Saba, the horses and the white people cause an entire village
to flee to the neighboring forest, and therefore the travelers had no
chance of making themselves known. But not a single spear was raised
against them, for if the hearts of the negroes are not filled by
Mohammedanism with hatred and treachery against unbelievers, they are
apt to be timid and peaceful. The travelers were welcomed so heartily
that Kali had to eat a piece of the village king and the latter a piece
of Kali, whereupon the most friendly relations were consummated. To the
good Msimu they did homage and showed their reverence by offering fowls,
eggs, and honey, brought from hollow blocks of wood, which had been
fastened in the branches of a large tree by means of palm threads. The
“Great Man,” the ruler of the elephant, the thunder, and the fiery
serpent, aroused general terror, which soon gave place to gratitude when
they were convinced that he was as generous as he was powerful. In
places where the small villages were numerous the news of the arrival of
these extraordinary guests would be communicated to the next settlement
by drum signals, for the negroes announce everything by beating the
drum. Sometimes the whole population advanced to meet them with friendly
greetings.

In one village of nearly a thousand inhabitants the potentate, who was
at the same time sorcerer and king, expressed his willingness to show
them the great “fetish,” which was so much reverenced and dreaded that
the people did not dare to approach the ebony chapel covered with
rhinoceros hide, and so they placed their offerings fifty feet distant.
The king told Stasch and Nell that this fetish had lately fallen from
the moon, that it was white and had a tail. Stasch immediately explained
that the moon had sent it down at the request of the good Msimu, and in
thus speaking he did not deviate from the truth, for it turned out that
the “great fetish” was simply one of the kites which he had sent up from
Linde Mountain. He and Nell felt very happy when they thought the same
wind might have carried the others still farther, and he decided to
continue sending up more from the hill-tops. That evening he made a kite
and let it fly, which convinced the negroes that the good Msimu and the
white man had also come down from the moon and were gods to be served
with humility.

Though pleased with these demonstrations of humility and adoration,
Stasch was much more delighted on hearing that the Basso-Narok was a
little more than ten days’ journey distant, and that the inhabitants of
the village in which they now lived often received salt from that
country in return for palm-wine. The village king had even heard Fumba
spoken of as being the ruler of people called “Doko.” Kali said that the
neighbors living a short distance away gave this name to the Wa-hima and
Samburu.

The news that a great war was now raging on the banks of this vast sheet
of water was not very reassuring, for in consequence of this it would be
necessary to reach the Basso-Narok by marching over wild mountains and
through deep ravines infested by beasts of prey. But Stasch was no
longer afraid of such beasts, and he preferred the wildest mountains to
the low plains, where fever lurked. So they courageously continued their
journey.

After leaving that large village they passed but one other, a small
settlement, that hung like a nest on the edge of a precipice. Then the
country became mountainous, the hills in places being separated by deep
ravines. To the east rose a dark chain of mountain-peaks, which, seen
from a distance, looked quite black. They were now traveling through an
unexplored stretch of country, and so they could not tell what might
happen to them before they reached Fumba’s land. On the mountain slopes
there were plenty of bananas, but with the exception of the dragon-tree
and acacias, which stood out by themselves, the trees grew in groups,
forming small groves. The travelers often halted in these groves to rest
and renew their strength, as well as to enjoy the abundant shade.

The trees swarmed with birds. Many different species—large rhinoceros
birds (which Stasch called pepper-eaters), roller, starling,
laughing-dove, and countless beautiful “bengalis”—fluttered in the
thick foliage or flew from one grove to another, singly or in groups,
glittering in every color of the rainbow. Many trees, seen from a
distance, appeared to be covered with colored flowers. Nell was
particularly delighted on seeing flycatchers[30] and large black birds
with bright red feathers on their breasts, whose voices sounded like a
shepherd’s flute.[31] Beautiful bee-eaters, pink on top and pale-blue
underneath, glistened in the sunlight, catching bees and dragonflies
while on the wing. The screams of green parrots could be heard from the
tree-tops, as could a sound of silver bells, the mutual greetings of
small, gray-green birds hidden in the foliage.

Between sunset and dawn such large flocks of native sparrows[32] flew
past that but for their chirping and the flapping of their wings they
might have been mistaken for clouds, and Stasch would have thought that
the songsters who made the trees vocal during the day were humming
throughout the night.

But the children were still more surprised and delighted with some other
birds which flew in flocks and sang delightfully. Each group consisted
of five or six females and one male, with glittering, metal-like
feathers. They alighted on acacias—the male perching on the top of the
tree, while the females sat on the lower branches—and after the first
notes, which sounded as though he were tuning his voice, the male began
to sing, while the females listened in silence. When he had finished
they repeated in unison the last refrain of his song. After a brief
pause he would begin again, and when he had ended they would again
repeat the refrain; then the flock would fly in an airy, wave-like line
to the next acacia, and the concert of soloist and chorus would ring out
once more through the silence of noon. The children never grew tired of
listening. Nell would catch the notes and join the chorus, twittering
the last tones in her little thin voice, which sounded like a quick
repetition of the sounds, “tui, tui, tui, tui, twi-ling-ting, ting!”
Once, when they were following the winged songsters from one tree to
another, the children found that they were alone and nearly a kilometer
away from their camping-place, for they had left the three negroes and
King and Saba behind. Stasch, who had planned to go hunting, had not
wanted to take Saba for fear he might bark and frighten the game. When
the flock of birds had flown from the last acacia to the other side of
the broad ravine, the young boy stood still and said:

“Now I shall take you back to King, and then I shall see if there are
any antelopes or zebras in the high jungle, for Kali says we have only
enough smoked meat to last two days.”

“But I am a big girl now,” answered Nell, who was always desirous of
showing that she was no longer a little girl, “and therefore I will
return by myself. The camp and the smoke can easily be seen from here.”

“I am afraid you might get lost.”

“I shall not get lost. In the high jungle I might, but here—look how
low the grass is.”

“Something might attack you!”

“You said that lions and panthers do not hunt their prey in the daytime.
Besides, do you hear how King is trumpeting because he is lonesome for
us? What lion would dare to hunt where King’s voice is heard?”

And she began to coax and in fact to be quite insistent on going.

“No, Stasch, I shall go alone. Remember, I am grown up!”

Stasch at first hesitated, but in the end let her have her own way. The
camp and the smoke of the campfire could be distinctly seen, and King,
who was lonesome without Nell, trumpeted continually. As Nell had said,
there was no fear of getting lost in the low grass, and as far as lions,
panthers, and hyenas were concerned, they need not be taken into
consideration, for these beasts hunt their prey only at night. Besides,
he knew he could do nothing to please the girl more than to show her
that he no longer considered her a child.

“Well, all right,” he said; “go alone, but walk straight ahead and do
not stop on the way.”

“But may I pick these flowers myself?” she asked, pointing to a bush of
kousso,[33] which was covered with a heavy mass of pink flowers.

“Yes, you may!”

With these words he turned around, and after taking the precaution of
showing her the group of trees from which the smoke issued and from
which King’s trumpeting was heard, he disappeared into the high jungle
at the edge of the ravine.

He had taken scarcely a hundred steps when he felt exceedingly anxious.
“It was very stupid of me,” he thought, “to let Nell go alone in the
heart of Africa—how foolish, foolish! She is still a child! I should
not have left her side even for an instant unless King had been with
her. Who knows what may happen? Who knows whether there is not a snake
under that pinkish shrubbery, or large monkeys might come from this
narrow pass and carry her off or bite her. Heaven help me! I have done a
most foolish thing!”

Instead of being only uneasy, he now became angry with himself and
terribly frightened. Without reasoning further, he turned back, as
though with a foreboding of evil. He stepped quickly to one side, and,
as a matter of habit, formed in his daily hunting expeditions, he held
his gun ready to shoot and glided through the prickly mimosas as
silently as a panther creeping upon an antelope herd at night. Then he
thrust his head above the tall shrubbery—and stood there as if
petrified.

Nell was standing under the kousso bush with hands extended; the pinkish
flowers, which she had dropped in her dismay, lay at her feet, and about
twenty feet away a large golden-yellow animal was creeping toward her
through the low grass.

Stasch distinctly saw its green eyes fixed on the chalk-white face of
the girl, he saw its bowed head and flattened ears, its upraised paw
stretched forward, expressing its waiting and stealthy attitude, its
long body and even longer tail, the end of which was moving with an
almost imperceptible cat-like movement. Another moment—a spring—and it
would have been the last of Nell!

At this sight the boy, accustomed as he was to danger, at once realized
that if he did not immediately regain his composure and presence of
mind, if he were to shoot and merely wound the animal, no matter how
badly, the girl would be doomed. Controlling himself, and stimulated by
these thoughts, his arms and legs suddenly became as rigid as steel.
Thanks to his habit of observation, he noticed a dark spot near the
animal’s ear, took aim, and pulled the trigger.

At the same instant came the report of the shot, a scream from Nell, and
a dreadful growl. Stasch sprang in front of Nell, and while protecting
her with his own body took aim again.

The second shot was quite unnecessary. The terrible cat lay stretched
out like a rag, its nose on the ground, its paws in the grass, and it
never even twitched. The bullet, an explosive one, had torn away the
entire back of the head and neck, above which the eyes glared and the
bloody, torn ganglia of the brain could be seen.

The little huntsman and Nell stood for a moment side by side, looking
first at the slain beast, then at each other—speechless. Then a strange
thing happened. Stasch, whose self-possession and calmness would have
astonished the most experienced marksman, suddenly turned pale, his legs
began to tremble, tears started from his eyes, he put his hands to his
head and repeated over and over again:

“Oh, Nell, Nell, if I had not turned back!”

Here he was seized with terror, a terror bordering on despair, and every
nerve in his body twitched and trembled as if he had an attack of ague.
After his tremendous mental and bodily tension there came a moment of
weakness and lassitude. He imagined he saw the terrible beast lying in a
dark cave tearing Nell’s body to pieces with its bloody mouth. And
indeed this might really have happened—it would have happened had he
not turned back. A moment, a second more, and it would have been too
late. These thoughts were too much for him to bear.

The result was that Nell, who was the first to recover from the fright,
was obliged to comfort him. The dear little child threw both her small
arms around his neck and wept, crying out as loudly as though trying to
awaken him out of a sound sleep.

“Stasch! Stasch! Nothing has happened to me! Only look and see! Nothing
has happened to me! Little Stasch! Dear Stasch!”

It was some time before Stasch recovered his composure and calmness.
Soon after Kali arrived on the scene; he had heard a shot near the camp,
and knowing that Bwana Kubwa never shot in vain, he immediately brought
a horse to carry away the game. But when the young negro saw the slain
beast he suddenly drew back and his face became ashen-gray.

“Wobo!” he screamed.

Not until now did the children approach the stiffening carcass, for
Stasch as yet had no definite idea of the kind of beast he had shot. At
first sight the boy thought it might be a very large “serval,”[34] but
on taking a nearer view he knew that he was mistaken, for the dead beast
was even larger than a leopard. Its golden-yellow skin was dotted with
chestnut-brown spots; but its head was narrower than that of a leopard
and resembled somewhat that of a wolf; its legs were longer, its paws
broader, and its eyes enormous. One of them had been completely torn
away by the bullet; the second still stared at the children as if out of
a chasm, immovable, frightful. Stasch felt sure that it was some species
of panther which zoologists knew as little about as geographers did of
the Basso-Narok Sea.

Kali continued to gaze with terror at the outstretched animal, repeating
in an undertone, as if afraid to awaken it:

“Wobo!—The Great Man has killed a wobo!”

But Stasch, turning to the girl, laid his hand on her little head, as if
he wanted to make sure that wobo had not stolen her, and said:

“Do you see, Nell, do you see that even if you were quite grown up, you
ought not to go alone in the jungle?”

“You are right, Stasch,” answered Nell with a penitent expression. “But
may I go with you or with King?”

“Tell me, how did this happen? Did you hear it approach you?”

“No. A large golden fly flew out of the flowers, so I turned around
toward it, and then I saw the beast just as it was creeping out from the
ravine.”

“And what happened next?”

“It stood still and began to look at me.”

“Did it look at you long?”

“Long! It was only when I dropped the flowers and covered my face with
my hands to protect myself that it began to creep up——”

Stasch knew that if Nell had been a negress she would have been carried
off at once, and that she owed her deliverance to the surprise of the
animal, which was disconcerted for a moment on the first sight of a
creature so different from the people he had seen.

Again the boy shivered from head to foot.

“Thank heaven! Thank heaven that I turned back!”

Then he inquired further:

“What were you thinking of at that moment?”

“I wanted to call you, and—did not dare—but——”

“But—what?”

“But I thought that you would certainly defend me. I don’t know——”

At these words she threw her arm around his neck once more, and he began
to stroke her hair.

“Are you not afraid now?”

“No.”

“My little Msimu! my Msimu! You see now what Africa is!”

“Yes. But you will kill all the vicious animals.”

“Yes, so I will!”

Both took another look at the beast of prey. Stasch, who wished to keep
its skin as a souvenir, told Kali to skin it, but the negro was afraid
that a second wobo might appear from out of the ravine, and he begged
not to be left there alone, and when asked whether he was really more
afraid of a wobo than he was of a lion he said:

“A lion roars in the night and does not jump over a fence, but a wobo
jumps over it in broad daylight, kills many negroes in the very heart of
the village, and then steals one and eats him. Neither a spear nor a bow
is any protection against a wobo, for a wobo can’t be killed.”

“Nonsense,” said Stasch; “look at this one; isn’t it quite dead?”

“White man can kill a wobo, but not black man!” answered Kali.

At last they took a rope and tied the enormous cat to the horse, and the
latter dragged it toward the camp.

But Stasch was unable to keep the skin, because King, who apparently
guessed that the wobo had attempted to steal his little mistress, flew
into such a rage that even Stasch was unable to pacify him. Grasping the
slain beast with his trunk, he threw it twice into the air, then he
began to beat it against a tree, and at last stamped it under his feet
until it was a pulpy, formless mass. Stasch was only able to save its
teeth, which with some other parts of its head he had laid down in the
path of a swarm of ants, and an hour later they had cleaned up the bones
so thoroughly that there was not a sign of flesh or of blood to be seen.

-----

Footnote 30:

Terpsichore viridis.

Footnote 31:

Laniarius erythrogaster.

Footnote 32:

Quelia Æthiopica.

Footnote 33:

Brojera Anthelmitica is a beautiful plant, the seeds of which are a
valuable remedy for tapeworm. It is mostly found in Southern Abyssinia.

Footnote 34:

A grey animal the size of a lynx, a species of tiger-cat.


                              CHAPTER XIX

Four days later Stasch made a halt on a plateau that, although smaller
and narrower than Linde Mountain, bore a great resemblance to it. That
very evening Saba attacked a large baboon as he was playing with the
remains of a kite—the second of those which the children had sent up
before they started to travel toward the ocean—and after a hard fight
bit him to death. Stasch and Nell, profiting by the halt to rest
themselves, decided to continue making kites, but to send them up only
when a strong monsoon was blowing from the west toward the east. Stasch
calculated that if but one of them were to fall into the hands of
Europeans or Arabians it would certainly excite unusual interest, and
might be the means of a special expedition sent out to seek them. That
his message might stand a better chance of being understood, he wrote on
the kites not only in English and French, but also in Arabic, which was
not difficult for him, as he was familiar with that language. Shortly
after they broke up camp here Kali said that in the chain of mountains
which they saw toward the east he recognized many peaks as those which
surround the large sheet of dark water, the Basso-Narok, but he was not
quite positive, because the mountains assume different shapes, according
to the position of the observer. After having passed a fairly broad
valley covered with kousso bushes, that resembled a large pink sea, they
came upon a solitary negro hut, inside of which were two hunters, one of
whom was ill, having been bitten by a guinea-worm.[35] Both were so
savage and stupid, so dismayed at the sight of these unexpected guests,
and so certain that they intended to kill them, that at first they would
give no information. It took a few strips of smoked meat to loosen the
tongue of the sick man, who, besides being ill, was half starved, as his
comrade allowed him but little food. From him they learned that one
day’s journey farther on there were some scattered hamlets, which were
governed by two chiefs independent of each other, and that farther on,
behind a steep mountain, lay the Fumba country, which extends from this
great sheet of water toward the west and south. When Stasch heard this
he felt that a great load had been lifted from him, and he took courage
once more. For were they not near the boundary of the land belonging to
the Wa-hima tribe?

It was, of course, hard to tell how they would find the remainder of the
journey, but in any event the boy had reason to hope that it would not
be more fatiguing or longer than the terrible ride from the banks of the
Nile to the plain where they now were, which distance he had
accomplished, thanks to his wonderful quickness of action, and during
which time he had saved Nell from death. He knew that the Wa-hima would
welcome them most hospitably for Kali’s sake, and would assist them in
every way. Besides, he was accustomed to negroes, and knew how to manage
them; so he felt pretty sure he could get along with them even without
Kali.

“Do you know,” he said to Nell, “that we have already covered more than
half the distance between Fashoda and the sea, and during the remainder
of our journey we may meet more savage negroes, but we are free from the
Dervishes?”

“I prefer negroes,” answered the girl.

“Yes, as long as you pass for an idol. I was stolen from Fayoum along
with a girl called Nell, and now I am bringing a Msimu home. I shall
tell my father and Mr. Rawlison that they are not to call you by any
other name.”

Her eyes began to twinkle merrily.

“Perhaps we shall see our papas in Mombasa!”

“Perhaps. If it were not for the war raging on the banks of the
Basso-Narok, we might accomplish our journey sooner. How provoking that
Fumba should go to war just at this time!”

At these words he beckoned to Kali.

“Kali, has the sick negro heard anything about a war?”

“Yes. There is a great, a very great war between Fumba and Samburu.”

“Then what will happen? How can we travel through the Samburu land?”

“The Samburu will run away from the great man, from King and from Kali.”

“And from you?”

“And from Kali, for Kali has a gun that thunders and kills.”

Stasch began to consider what part he would have to take in the war
between the Wa-hima and Samburu tribes; he determined that the war
should not interfere with their journey. He knew that their arrival
would be a great surprise, and that it would give Fumba the upper hand.
Therefore, all he need do would be to turn the prospective victory to
his own advantage.

On arriving in the small villages of which the sick hunter had made
mention, they made further inquiries in regard to the war. And the news
became more and more reliable, but at the same time unfavorable to
Fumba. The small travelers learned that he was on the defensive, and
that the Samburu, led by Mamba, their king, had taken a considerable
portion of the Wa-hima’s country and captured a great many cows. It was
said that the seat of war was on the south bank of the large sheet of
water, where Fumba’s great “boma”[36] was situated, on a high and broad
mountain.

This news made Kali feel very sad. He begged Stasch to travel as fast as
he could over the mountain which separated them from the district that
was menaced by the war, and he promised to find a road over which they
could lead King as well as the horses. They were now in a country with
which Kali was very familiar, and he recognized the mountain peaks he
had known since childhood.

But it was no easy matter to cross the mountain, and if they had not
been assisted by the inhabitants of the last village, whose good favor
they had won with gifts, they would have had to find another road for
King. But these people knew the ravines on this side of the mountain
better than Kali did, and after a wearisome journey of two days and two
nights, during which they suffered greatly from the cold, they were
eventually able to lead the caravan over a narrow pass into a valley
which from its appearance seemed to belong to the land of the Wa-himas.

Stasch made a halt to take a rest in this barren valley, which was
enclosed by shrubbery, but Kali, who begged to be allowed to go on
horseback to reconnoiter in the direction of his father’s boma, which
lay a day’s journey distant, started off that very night. Stasch and
Nell anxiously awaited his return for a whole following day and night,
and they felt convinced that his strength must have given out, or that
he must have fallen into the hands of the enemy. At last he reappeared
on his weary and panting horse, he himself so tired and depressed that
it made one sad to see him.

He prostrated himself at Stasch’s feet and begged him to come to the
rescue.

“Oh, Great Man,” he said, “the Samburu have conquered Fumba’s warriors
and killed several of them, and those they have not killed they have
driven out; and they are besieging Fumba in the great ‘boma’ on Boko
Mountain. Fumba and his warriors have nothing to eat on the mountain and
will perish if the Great Man does not kill Mamba and all the Samburus.”

While begging, he clasped Stasch’s knees; the latter frowned and
considered what he should do, for, as always, Nell was his first
consideration.

At length he asked, “Where are the warriors of Fumba whom the Samburus
have dispersed?”

“Kali found them—and they will soon be here.”

“How many of them are there?”

The young negro moved his fingers and toes several times, but apparently
he could not give the exact number, for the simple reason that he could
not count further than ten, and that every higher number was “wengi,”
which means “many.”

“When they come, put yourself at their head and hasten to the relief of
your father,” said Stasch.

“They are afraid of the Samburus and would not go with Kali, but they
would go with the Great Man and kill wengi, wengi Samburus.”

Stasch thought the matter over once more.

“No,” he said at last. “I can neither take Bibi to the battle nor leave
her behind alone; nothing would tempt me to do it.”

Thereupon Kali arose, folded his hands, and began repeating over and
over again:

“Lunla! Lunla! Lunla!”

“What do you mean by Lunla?” asked Stasch.

“A great boma for the wives of the Wa-himas and the Samburus,” answered
the young negro.

And he began to tell quite wonderful tales. For Fumba and Mamba had been
at war with each other for several years. They had destroyed each
other’s plantations and stolen each other’s cattle. But on the south
bank of the lake there was a place called Lunla, in which—even during
the hardest battles—the women of both tribes assembled to hold their
market. This place was sacred. The war only raged between the men; the
fortunes of war did not affect the destiny of the women, who found a
safe refuge in Lunla, their spacious market-place, which was enclosed by
earthworks. During these disturbances many of them fled there with their
children and possessions. Some came from even the most distant villages,
bringing smoked meat, beans, millet, manioc, and various other kinds of
provisions. The warriors were not allowed to battle nearer Lunla than
within earshot of the crowing of a cock, and they were not allowed
within the earthworks which encircled the market-place. They could only
stand in front of the wall, and then the women handed them down
provisions by means of long bamboo rods. This was an old-fashioned
custom respected by both parties. But the victorious side always tried
to hold the road to Lunla so as to prevent the vanquished from
approaching near enough to the sacred place to hear the cock crow.

“Oh Great Man,” begged Kali once more, as he clasped Stasch’s knee, “the
Great Man will bring Bibi to Lunla, and he will take King and Kali and
the gun and the fiery snakes and he will conquer the wicked Samburus.”

Stasch believed the young negro’s story, for he had heard that in many
parts of Africa women are not affected by the wars. He remembered that a
young German missionary in Port Said had once told him that the most
warlike tribe of Masai, living in the vicinity of the great Kilima Njaro
Mountain, followed this custom, and that consequently the wives of the
warriors on either side could pass freely and unmolested to the
market-place agreed upon without fear of being attacked.[37] Stasch was
much pleased that this custom still prevailed on the banks of the
Basso-Narok, for he felt confident that Nell would not be in any danger
from the war. He also concluded to break up camp at once and take Nell
to Lunla, which he was particularly desirous of doing, because a further
journey was out of the question until the war was over, and the help of
both the Wa-himas and the Samburus was necessary.

Accustomed as he was to make quick decisions, Stasch knew at once what
to do. To release Fumba, to conquer the Samburus, to prevent the
Wa-himas from taking too bloody a revenge, to command peace and reunite
the antagonists seemed to him absolutely necessary, not only for his own
sake, but also for the negroes. “It must be accomplished and it shall
be!” he said to himself, and in the meanwhile, to pacify Kali, for whom
he felt much sympathy, he explained to him that he by no means refused
his assistance.

“How far is it from here to Lunla?” he asked.

“Half a day’s journey.”

“Then listen. We will take Bibi there at once; then I will ride on King
and drive the Samburus from your father’s boma. You will ride with me
and fight against them.”

“Kali will kill them with the gun.”

His despair changed to joy at once; he began to hop, to laugh, and to
thank Stasch with as much enthusiasm as if the victory were already won.
Further outbursts of gratitude and joy were interrupted by the arrival
of the warriors he had collected during his reconnoitering, and whom he
had commanded to appear before the white man. There were about thirty
men, armed with shields of hippotamus skins, darts, bows, and knives.

On their heads they wore feathers, manes of baboons, and bouquets of
ferns. On beholding an elephant in the service of a human being, on
seeing Saba and the horses, they were seized with fear and surprise,
just as was the case with the negroes in the villages through which the
caravan had previously passed. But Kali had already told them that they
would see a good Msimu and a powerful man, “who kills lions, who killed
a wobo, of whom the elephant is afraid, who breaks rocks, makes fiery
snakes rise in the air, etc.” So instead of running away, they formed in
a long line and stood there silent and astonished, the whites of their
eyes gleaming, for they were still uncertain whether they ought to kneel
down or fall on their faces, but they firmly believed that, with the
help of these extraordinary beings, the triumph of the Samburus would
soon be at an end. Stasch rode on the elephant through the rank and file
of the standing warriors like the leader of an army holding a review;
then he made Kali repeat his promise to release Fumba, and gave orders
to break camp for Lunla.

Kali rode in front with several warriors to tell the assembled wives of
both tribes that they were to have rarer good fortune than ever before,
in seeing the “good Msimu,” who was coming to them riding on an
elephant. This was such an extraordinary occurrence that even those
women of the Wa-hima tribe who recognized Kali as the lost heir to the
throne thought that the king’s young son was trying to make fun of them,
and they were surprised that he attempted to joke when the whole tribe
and Fumba were in such desperate straits. But several hours later, when
an enormous elephant with a white palanquin on his back was seen
approaching the earthworks, they were nearly beside themselves with joy,
and welcomed the good Msimu with such shouts and howls that Stasch
mistook the uproar for outbursts of hatred, especially as these negroes
were so hideously ugly that they looked like witches.

But this was their way of showing their great admiration. When Nell’s
tent was set up in a corner of the market-place, in the shade of two
trees with luxuriant foliage, the Wa-hima and the Samburu women adorned
it with garlands and wreaths of flowers; then they brought such a
quantity of food that it was not only enough for the goddess herself,
but also enough to last her retinue for a month. The delighted women
even bowed before Mea, who was adorned with pink percale and several
strings of blue glass beads, and for this reason, and also because she
was Msimu’s servant, she seemed to them to be of much higher rank than
an ordinary negress.

Nasibu, on account of his youth, was also allowed within the enclosure,
and he immediately profited by the offerings brought to Nell, and
applied himself so conscientiously to eating that an hour later his
little stomach resembled an African war-drum.

-----

Footnote 35:

Medinensis, a thin string-worm, from an inch to a yard in length; its
bite sometimes causes gangrene.

Footnote 36:

same as the zareba in the Soudan. A large boma may also be a kind of
castle or fortified camp.

Footnote 37:

actual fact.


                               CHAPTER XX

After resting a little while before the earthworks of Lunla, Stasch
started off before sunset with Kali at the head of three hundred
warriors to go to Fumba’s boma, for he wanted to attack the Samburus by
night, reckoning that in the darkness the “fiery snakes” would make a
greater impression. The journey from Lunla to Boko Mountain, on which
Fumba was besieged, would take nine hours, counting the halt for rest,
so that they would arrive before the fortress about three o’clock in the
morning. Stasch made the warriors halt and commanded them to be silent;
then he began to inspect the situation. The summit of the hill on which
the defenders were waiting in ambush was wrapped in darkness, but the
Samburus kept several campfires burning. Their light illuminated the
steep sides of the cliff and the giant trees growing at its feet. And
now from a distance could be heard the hollow sound of kettle-drums, as
well as the shouts and singing of the warriors, who apparently were not
sparing of the pombe[38] while celebrating their final victory. Stasch,
at the head of his men, advanced still further, so that at last he was
not more than a hundred feet from the last campfires. There seemed to be
no one on guard anywhere, and the moonless night made it impossible for
the savages to see the elephant, which was also hidden by the foliage.
Stasch, sitting on King’s neck, gave his final orders in a low tone of
voice, and made a sign to Kali to set off one of the rockets.

A red streak spluttered, shot high up into the sky, and fell in a shower
of red, blue, and golden stars. Then every voice ceased and a moment of
silence ensued. A few seconds later two more fiery snakes ascended,
making a crackling sound, and this time directed more horizontally
toward the Samburus’ camp; at the same time there were heard King’s
trumpeting and the howls of three hundred Wa-himas, who, armed with
assegais,[39] clubs, and knives, came up on the run. The battle that
ensued was all the more terrible because it took place in absolute
darkness, for in the excitement all the campfires had been extinguished
and trampled down. From the first moment that the Samburus saw the fiery
snakes they were panic-stricken. What had taken place was absolutely
beyond their comprehension. They only knew that some sort of terrible
creatures had overtaken them and that fearful and inevitable destruction
threatened them. Most of them fled before the spears and clubs of the
Wa-himas touched them. Over a hundred warriors whom Mamba had gathered
around him defended themselves despairingly, but when by the light of
the shots they saw a giant animal and on it a being dressed in white,
and heard the reports of the gun which Kali incessantly fired, they lost
courage.

When Fumba, who was on the mountain, saw the first rocket burst in the
air above him, he fell to the ground from fright and lay there several
minutes as if lifeless. On recovering, he concluded, from the despairing
howls of the warriors, that some kind of supernatural beings were
slaying the Samburus. Then he thought that if he did not come to the
assistance of these spirits their rage might also be turned against him,
and as the destruction of the Samburus meant his deliverance, he
collected all his warriors and crept out of the boma by means of a
hidden side passage, and thus quickly reached most of those trying to
escape. The fight thus changed into a slaughter. The kettle-drums of the
Samburus ceased to rumble. The darkness was penetrated only by the red
flashes from Kali’s gun, the shrieks of dying warriors, the groans of
the wounded, and the hollow beating of clubs on shields rang through the
air. No one begged for quarter, for the negroes know no mercy.

For fear of hitting his own people in the confusion and darkness, Stasch
at last ceased firing, and grasping Gebhr’s sword, threw himself on the
enemy. The Samburus could now escape from the mountains to the frontier
only by passing through a broad ravine, but Fumba and his warriors
blocked this narrow pass, and every one of the fugitives was slain save
those who threw themselves on the ground and surrendered, though they
knew that cruel slavery or immediate death awaited them from the
conquerors. Mamba defended himself heroically until a club smashed in
his skull. His son, the young Faru, fell into the hands of Fumba, who
ordered him bound as a future thanksgiving offering for the spirits who
had come to his assistance.

Stasch did not lead the terrible King into the battle, but only allowed
him to roar, which frightened the enemies much more. He did not shoot
once at the Samburus, for in the first place, before leaving Lunla he
promised little Nell not to kill any one, and secondly, he had really no
desire to kill people who had never done him or Nell any harm. He was
satisfied in having secured the victory for the Wa-himas and in having
released the besieged Fumba. When Kali came running up soon after with
the news of the final victory, he ordered him to stop the battle, which
was still raging in the clefts of the rocks and was being prolonged by
Fumba’s fury.

But it was daylight before Kali could accomplish this. As is usual in
tropical countries, the sun rose quickly behind the mountains and
flooded with its bright light the battlefield, where lay more than two
hundred Samburu corpses. Some time later, when the fighting ceased and
the joyful howling of the Wa-himas disturbed the morning calm, Kali
reappeared, but with such a sad and sorry countenance that it was very
evident, even from a distance, that some mishap had befallen him.
Standing still before Stasch, he began to pound his head with his fists
and to cry out in a sad voice:

“O Great Man! Fumba kufa! Fumba kufa!”[40]

“Killed?” repeated Stasch questioningly.

Kali related what had happened, and from his words it was readily
understood that this sad misfortune was the result of Fumba’s revenge,
for after the battle was over he attempted to kill two Samburus, and
from one of them he received a thrust from a lance.

The news was soon dispersed among the Wa-himas, and an excited group
surrounded Kali. Soon afterward six warriors carried the old king on
spears. He was not dead, but mortally wounded. He wanted to see, before
he died, the powerful man on an elephant who was the true conqueror of
the Samburus. Astonishment was in his eyes, but the haze of death was
also veiling them; and his pale and stiffening lips whispered softly:

“Yancig! Yancig!”

Shortly after his head sank back, his mouth opened wide and he expired.

Kali, who loved him, threw himself on his breast and wept. Some of the
warriors began to beat their heads, others to proclaim Kali king and to
cry out, “Yancig!” in his honor. Others fell on their faces before the
young ruler. Not one dissenting voice was heard, for Kali was their king
not only because he was Fumba’s eldest son, but also because he had
gained the victory.

Meanwhile in the sorcerers’ huts and in the boma on the mountain-top the
wild roaring of the bad Msimu could be heard. At first it was like the
sound that Stasch had heard before in the negro village, but this time
it was not directed against him, but demanded the death of the prisoners
for killing Fumba. The drums beat, the warriors formed in a long line,
each row consisting of three men, and then began a war-dance around
Stasch, Kali, and the corpse of Fumba.

“Oa! Oa! Yach! Yach!” repeated all the voices, their heads wagging right
to left in a monotonous manner, the whites of their eyes shining, and
the points of their spears gleaming in the morning sun.

Kali stood up, turned to Stasch, and said:

“The Great Man will bring Bibi to the boma and live in Fumba’s hut. Kali
will be king of the Wa-himas and the Great Man king over Kali.”

Stasch nodded his head as a sign of approval, but he remained there a
few hours longer, for he and King needed a rest.

He did not leave until toward evening. During his absence the corpses of
the Samburus were carried away and thrown into a deep ravine near by,
over which a great many buzzards immediately settled. The sorcerers now
made preparation for Fumba’s burial, and Kali assumed the rulership as
an absolute monarch, with power of life and death over all his subjects.

“Do you know who Kali is?” Stasch asked the girl on the way back from
Lunla.

Nell looked at him in surprise.

“He is your servant!”

“Oho! A servant! Kali is now king of all the Wa-himas.”

This news amused Nell very much. This sudden change, by which the former
slave of the treacherous Gebhr and later Stasch’s servant had become
king, struck Nell as extraordinary and exceedingly droll.

Linde’s remark that the negroes were like children, incapable of
remembering what happened from one day to another, did not apply to
Kali, for scarcely had Stasch and Nell reached the foot of Boko Mountain
than the young monarch ran hastily toward them, greeted them with the
usual reverence and joy, and repeated the same words he had spoken
before:

“Kali be king of the Wa-himas and the Great Man king over Kali.”

His admiration was so great that he all but worshiped Stasch; he made a
very low bow to Nell before the assembled people, for, from what he had
observed during the journey, he knew that the Great Man was more
concerned about the little Bibi than about himself.

After he had solemnly led Stasch and Nell up to the summit where the
boma was, he assigned Fumba’s hut to them; it resembled a large shed
divided into several rooms. He ordered the Wa-hima women, who
accompanied them from Lunla, and who never tired of gazing at the good
Msimu, to put vessels of honey and sour milk in the first room, and when
he heard that the Bibi, who was very much fatigued from the journey, had
fallen asleep, he commanded all the people to keep perfectly quiet,
under penalty of having their tongues cut out. He now decided to pay
them still greater homage, and so when Stasch appeared before the shed
after a short rest, Kali approached, bowed low before him, and said:

“To-morrow Kali will give orders to bury Fumba and to behead as many
slaves for Fumba and Kali as there are fingers on both their hands; and
to propitiate Bibi and the Great Man Kali will order Faru, the son of
Mamba, to be beheaded, and also wengi, wengi other Samburus taken
prisoners by the Wa-himas.”

Stasch frowned, and gazing severely into Kali’s eyes, replied:

“I forbid it.”

“Sir,” said the young negro in a trembling voice, “the Wa-himas always
behead their prisoners. When the old king dies they behead people; if a
young king follows they behead people. If Kali does not command them to
be killed the Wa-himas will not believe that Kali is king!”

Stasch looked at him still more severely:

“Well, how’s that?” said he. “And did you not learn anything on Linde
Mountain? Are you not a Christian?”

“I am, O Great Man!”

“Then listen! The Wa-himas have black brains, but your brains must be
white. As you are now their king, you must enlighten and teach them what
you learned from me and Bibi. They are now like jackals and hyenas—make
human beings of them. Tell them that it is forbidden to behead prisoners
of war, for the Great Spirit to whom Bibi and I pray punishes those who
shed innocent blood. White people do not behead prisoners, and you would
treat them even more cruelly than Gebhr did you—and you a Christian!
Shame on you, Kali! Replace the ancient and savage customs of the
Wa-himas by humane ones and God will bless you, and Bibi will not say
that Kali is a savage, a stupid and vicious negro.”

A terrible roaring from the sorcerers’ huts drowned his words. Stasch
waved his hand excitedly and continued: “I hear! Your Msimu wants the
blood and the heads of the prisoners. But you know quite well what this
is, and so you are not frightened at this noise. Therefore I only say
this much to you: Take a bamboo rod, go into every hut and thrash the
sorcerers until they roar louder than their kettle-drums, and throw the
kettle-drums into the midst of the boma, so that all the Wa-himas may
see and comprehend how these villains are deceiving them; and at the
same time tell your stupid Wa-himas what you told M’Rua’s people—that
where the good Msimu dwells the blood of human beings must not be shed.”

Stasch’s words apparently had some weight with the young king, for he
looked at him a moment and answered:

“Kali will thrash the sorcerers well, will throw out the kettle-drums,
and tell the Wa-himas that where the good Msimu is no blood must be
shed. But what shall Kali do with Faru and the Samburus who have killed
Fumba?”

Stasch, who had already planned everything, had anticipated this
question, immediately answered:

“Your father was slain, his father was slain, so both were slain. You
must form a brotherhood with young Faru, then the Wa-himas and the
Samburus will live together in peace, planting manioc and hunting
together. You must tell Faru about the Great Spirit, and Faru will love
you like a brother.”

“Kali now have white brains!” answered the young negro.

And thus the conversation ended. Soon afterward savage roars resounded
once more, but this time not from the wicked Msimu, but from the two
sorcerers, whose skin Kali was thrashing as hard as he could. The
warriors, who had remained below standing in a circle around King,
hurried up the hill to see what was the matter; they saw with their own
eyes and heard from the words of the sorcerers themselves that the
wicked Msimu, before whom they were accustomed to tremble, was only a
hollowed-out tree trunk covered with monkey-skin. And when they told
young Faru that in deference to the wishes of the good Msimu and the
Great Man he was not to be beheaded, but that Kali would eat a piece of
him and he a piece of Kali, he could not trust his senses; then on
hearing to whom he owed his life, he pushed himself before the entrance
to Fumba’s hut and lay there until Nell came out and bade him arise.
Then he took hold of her little foot with his black hands and placed it
on his head, as a sign that he would remain her slave for the rest of
his life.

The Wa-himas were very much surprised at such orders of the young king,
but the presence of the unknown guests, whom they looked upon as the
most powerful sorcerers in the world, awed them to silence. The older
people were displeased with the new customs, and the two sorcerers,
realizing that all their good times were over, swore in their hearts to
take terrible vengeance on the king and the newcomers.

Meanwhile Fumba was solemnly buried at the foot of the mountain under
the boma. Kali planted a bamboo cross on his grave, and the negroes
placed on it several vessels containing pombe and smoked meat, so that
his spirit would not disturb them during the night.

After the ceremony of the brotherhood between Kali and Faru was over,
Mamba’s corpse was given to the Samburus.

-----

Footnote 38:

An intoxicating beer made from millet.

Footnote 39:

Lances and spears.

Footnote 40:

Fumba is dead.


                              CHAPTER XXI

“Well, can you tell how many journeys we have made since we left
Fayoum?” asked Stasch.

“Yes.”

The girl raised her eyebrows and began to count on her fingers.

“Let me see: From Fayoum to Khartum—the first journey; from Khartum to
Fashoda—the second; from Fashoda to the gorge, where we found King—the
third; from Linde Mountain to the lake—the fourth!”

“Right. Perhaps there is not another fly in the world who has flown
through so much of Africa.”

“This fly would have been in a nice plight without you.”

And he began to laugh.

“A fly on an elephant! A fly on an elephant!”

“But no tsetse. Ah, Stasch, no tsetse?”

“No,” he replied; “a more agreeable kind of fly.”

Nell, satisfied with this praise, leaned her little face on his arm and
asked:

“And when shall we start on our fifth journey?”

“As soon as you are rested and I have taught these people, whom Kali has
promised to send along with us, how to shoot a little.”

“And are we going to travel very long?”

“Oh, long, Nell, long! Who knows if this won’t be the longest road?”

“And you will, as you always do, find a way out of all our
difficulties?”

“I _must_.”

Stasch really did the best he could, but the fifth journey required
great preparation. They were going once more into unknown districts, in
which there lurked innumerable dangers, and against these the boy wished
to take greater precautions than he had ever done before. For this
reason he taught forty young Wa-himas to shoot with Remington rifles,
for he thought they would form a picked troop and would also serve as a
guard for Nell. He could not train more men to shoot, for King had only
carried twenty-five rifles and the horses had carried fifteen. The rest
of the army was to be made up of a hundred Wa-himas and a hundred
Samburus armed with lances and bows, which Faru promised to supply, and
whose presence solved the difficulties of the journey through the long
stretch of wild country inhabited by the Samburu tribes. Stasch
recollected with pride how he had fled from Fashoda, traveling with no
one but Nell and two negroes, and that he had had no help of any kind;
so he now thought that, being in command of two hundred armed men, and
having an elephant and some horses, he could soon reach the coast. He
tried to imagine what Englishmen, who lay such stress on forming
resolutions, would say to this, and especially what his father and Mr.
Rawlison would say, and this made every difficulty appear light.

Nevertheless, he was very uneasy for Nell’s safety and for his own. Sure
enough, he would most likely have little difficulty in passing through
the Wa-hima and Samburu territory, but what would follow? What kind of
tribes would he be likely to meet, through what countries and how many
miles would he have to travel? Linde’s directions had not been specific
enough. Stasch was very much worried because he had no idea where he
was, for this part of Africa was represented as a white spot on the maps
which he had studied. Besides, he had not the least idea what the
Basso-Narok Lake really was like or how large it was. He happened to be
on its south bank, where it appeared to be some ten kilometers wide. But
how far the lake stretched toward the north was something that neither
the Wa-himas nor the Samburus could tell him. Kali, who knew the
Ki-swahili language fairly well, answered all questions with “bali,
bali,” which meant “far, far,” and that was all that Stasch could get
him to say.

As in the north, the mountains at the horizon appeared to be fairly
near, and he supposed that this water was a small salt lake, many of
which are to be found in Africa. Several years later it was evident that
he had been mistaken.[41] For the present it was not absolutely
necessary to be more familiar with the banks of the Basso-Narok, but it
was important to find out whether a river flowed from it, eventually
emptying itself into the ocean. The Samburus, Faru’s subjects, declared
that to the east of their country lay a large, waterless desert, which
no one had ever crossed. Stasch knew the negroes well from the stories
of travelers and from Linde’s adventures, as well as from his own
experiences with them, and he was convinced that as soon as danger and
weariness would overtake them many would return home, and perhaps not a
single one remain with him. In this case he would find himself in the
middle of the desert alone with Nell, Mea, and the little Nasibu. But,
above all, he recognized that the lack of water would break up and
disperse the caravan. Following the water-course, it would be impossible
to suffer the tortures which attack all travelers in arid regions, so he
inquired where a stream could be found.

But the Samburus were unable to give him any reliable information, and
he could not take a lengthy excursion along the eastern bank of the lake
because other duties retained him at the boma. He was of the opinion
that of all the kites he had sent up from Linde Mountain and from the
negro villages through which they had passed, probably not one had flown
over the chain of mountains surrounding the Basso-Narok. For this reason
it was necessary to make new ones and send them up, for these were the
only ones the wind could carry far off over the flat desert, perhaps to
the ocean. He had to give his personal attention to this matter, for
Nell was very skilful in making the kites and Kali had learned how to
send them up, but neither was able to write on them the necessary
message. Stasch believed this to be a matter of the greatest importance,
which should on no account be neglected.

These duties occupied so much time that the caravan was not ready to
start for three weeks. On the evening before they intended to depart the
young king of the Wa-himas appeared before Stasch, made a low bow, and
said:

“Kali will go with the master and with Bibi as far as the sheet of water
on which the large rafts of the white men swim.”

This proof of devotion touched Stasch, but he did not feel he had the
right to take the boy on such an extended journey, from which he might
not be able to return in safety.

“Why do you want to go with us?” he asked.

“Kali loves the Great Man and Bibi.”

Stasch laid his hand on the woolly head.

“Kali, I know that you are a true and faithful boy. But what will happen
to your kingdom, and who will reign over the Wa-himas in your place?”

“M’Lana, a brother of Kali’s mother.”

Stasch knew that negroes fight for the throne, that power attracts them
just as it does white people; he thought a while and then said:

“No, Kali! I can not take you along. You must stay with the Wa-himas in
order to make good people of them.”

“Kali return to them.”

“M’Lana has many sons, and what would happen if he should aspire to be
king himself and to leave his kingdom to his sons, and therefore
instigate the Wa-himas against you, so that they drive you away when you
seek to return?”

“M’Lana is good. He no do that!”

“But if he does do it?”

“Then Kali will go to the great sheet of water, to the Great Man and
Bibi.”

“We shall not be there then.”

“Then Kali will sit down near the water and weep for sorrow.”

At these words he folded his hands over his head and whispered:

“Kali loves the Great Man and Bibi—very much!” And two large tears
shone in his eyes.

Stasch hesitated, not knowing what to do. He felt sorry for Kali, but he
did not grant his request at once. He knew that—apart from the dangers
he might encounter on the return journey—if M’Lana or the sorcerers
were to incite the negroes, not only would the young negro be banished
from his country, but his life would be endangered.

“It will be much better for you to stay here,” he said; “much better!”

But while he was speaking Nell appeared; she had overheard the whole
conversation through the thin partition which separated the caravan, and
when she saw tears in Kali’s eyes she wiped them away with her little
fingers, and turning to Stasch, said:

“Kali will go with us!” This she spoke in a decided tone.

“Oho!” answered Stasch, a little hurt. “You are not the one to decide.”

“Kali will go with us!” she repeated.

“Perhaps not!”

Then she suddenly stamped her little foot, saying:

“I wish it!” And burst into tears.

Stasch looked at her in great surprise, as if unable to understand what
had happened to the child, who was usually so good and so gentle, but
when he saw how she put both little fists up to her eyes and with open
mouth gasped for air like a little bird, he at once said:

“Kali shall go with us—yes, he shall go with us! Why are you crying?
How unreasonable you are! He shall go! Do you hear? He shall go!”

And so it was settled. Stasch felt ashamed of himself all that day
because of his weakness in giving in to the “good Msimu,” and she,
having gained her point, was as quiet, gentle, and submissive as ever.

-----

Footnote 41:

This was the large lake discovered by the famous explorer Teleki in
1888, and named Rudolf Lake.


                              CHAPTER XXII

The caravan started on its journey at sunrise the following day. The
young negro felt very happy, the little despot was gentle and obedient,
and Stasch was full of energy and hope. A hundred Wa-himas accompanied
them, forty of the latter being armed with Remington rifles, which they
knew how to use quite well. Their white leader, who had instructed them
for three weeks, knew that at a given signal they would make a great
deal of noise, but do little damage; he also knew that in a conflict
with savage people noise plays as important a part as do bullets, and he
was pleased with his guards. The caravan took away large quantities of
manioc, little baked cakes made of big fat ants carefully dried and
ground to flour, and also a great deal of smoked meat. About ten women
also accompanied the caravan, and they carried various things for Nell’s
comfort and water-bags made of antelope skins. From the elephant’s back
Stasch supervised and gave orders, which were perhaps not exactly
necessary, but he did this more because he loved to play the rôle of the
leader of an army; indeed, he surveyed his small army with pride.

“If I wanted to,” he said to himself, “I could be king of all these
tribes—just as Benjowski was in Madagascar!”

And the thought flashed through his brain that perhaps it would be well
to return here eventually, subjugate a whole region, civilize the
negroes, and found a new Poland in this country, or even to leave for
old Poland at the head of an army of trained negro soldiers; but feeling
this was an absurd idea, and doubting whether his father would give him
permission to play the part of an Alexander of Macedon in Africa, he did
not confide these thoughts to Nell, who was the only person in the world
who would agree with him.

Besides, it would be essential to be independent of these savages before
attempting to conquer this part of Africa, and so he busied himself with
what lay nearest him. The caravan advanced in a rope-like line. Stasch,
on King, had determined to bring up the rear, so as to be able to have
everything under his own eyes.

When the people marched past him in single file he noticed with surprise
that the two sorcerers, M’Kunji and M’Pua, who had been thrashed by
Kali, also belonged to the caravan, and were carrying baggage on their
heads and marching along with the others.

He stopped them and asked:

“Who told you you might go along with us?”

“The king,” answered both, bowing very low.

But under the mask of humility their eyes shone so wildly and their
faces bore such an expression of rage that at first Stasch felt like
driving them away, and was only prevented because he did not wish to
undermine Kali’s authority.

Calling Kali to him, he asked:

“Did you order the sorcerers to go with us?”

“Kali told them to, for Kali is clever.”

“Therefore I again ask you, why did your cleverness not leave them at
home?”

“If M’Kunji and M’Pua had remained, they would have stirred up the
Wa-himas so that they would have killed Kali on his return, and if they
go along with us Kali will look out for them and put a guard on them.”

Stasch considered a while and said:

“Perhaps you are right; but be on the alert day and night, for there is
mischief in their eyes.”

“Kali has bamboos,” answered the young negro.

The caravan now set forth. At the last moment Stasch ordered that the
guards equipped with Remington rifles should close the procession, for
they were selected and trusted men. During the gun practising they had
in a way become fond of their young leader, and because they guarded his
illustrious person they felt themselves more favored than the others.
They now had to guard the entire caravan and to capture those who
attempted to run away. It was evident that as soon as danger or fatigue
came there would be plenty of deserters.

On the first day, however, everything was peaceful as could be. The
negroes with the burdens on their heads, each armed with a spear and
several smaller darts, wound through the jungle in one long line. For a
while they advanced over a flat tract on the southern border of the
lake, but as high mountain summits enclosed the lake on all sides, they
found on turning toward the east that it was necessary to climb over the
hills. The old Samburus, who knew this country, declared that the
caravan would have to cross narrow passes which lay between the
mountains Kulall and Imo, and that until they reached the other side
they would not come to the flat land south of Bovani. Stasch knew that
they could not march directly eastward, for he remembered that Mombasa
lay several degrees the other side of the equator, and therefore a
considerable distance south of this unknown lake. But as he still
possessed several of Linde’s compasses he was not afraid of losing his
way.

The quarters for the first night were arranged on a woody height.

As soon as it had become dark a great many campfires flashed forth,
around which the negroes roasted dried meat and ate cakes made of manioc
roots, which they took out of the pots with their fingers. After they
had appeased their hunger and thirst they talked over matters with one
another, speculating as to where “Bwana Kubwa” was going to lead them,
and what they would receive for their services. Some sang as they
squatted on the ground like Turks and stared into the fire, but they all
talked so long and so loudly that at last Stasch was obliged to command
silence so that Nell could sleep.

The night was very cool, but the next morning when the first rays of
sunlight lighted up the scene the air became warm. At sunrise the small
travelers beheld a peculiar sight. They were just approaching a lake
about two hundred kilometers long, or what might be called a large
puddle, which had been formed in a mountain valley by the rain, when
Stasch, who was sitting alongside of the girl on King and surveying his
surroundings through the telescope, suddenly cried:

“Nell, look! See the elephants going to the water!”

Half a kilometer away could be seen a herd of five beasts slowly
advancing single file toward the small lake.

“But these are strange looking elephants,” said Stasch, who was still
regarding them very attentively. “They are not so large as King, and
have much smaller ears, and as for tusks, I don’t see any at all.”

Meanwhile the elephants went into the water, but they did not pause on
the bank like King usually did, and did not bathe themselves with their
trunks, but steadily advancing, they went deeper and deeper into the
water, so that at last only their black backs, resembling pieces of
rock, stood out over the surface of the water.

“What’s that? They are diving!” cried Stasch.

The caravan was slowly approaching the bank, and at last reached it.
Stasch ordered a halt, and gazed with the greatest surprise, first at
Nell, then at the lake. There was nothing to be seen of the elephants
except five dots looking like red flowers riding above the surface of
the water and rocking gently to and fro.

“They are standing on the bottom, and these are the ends of their
trunks,” exclaimed Stasch, scarcely believing his own eyes. Then he
called to Kali:

“Kali, did you see?”

“Yes, sir, Kali has seen; those are water-elephants,”[42] answered the
young negro calmly.

“Water-elephants?”

“This is not the first time Kali has seen them!”

“And they live in the water?”

“In the night they go into the jungle and graze; in the daytime they
live in the lake, just like the riboks.[43] They do not go out until
after sunset.”

For some time Stasch could not recover from his surprise, and had he not
been in a hurry to continue the journey he would have held back the
caravan till the evening, so as to have a better opportunity of
observing these peculiar beasts. But it also occurred to him that the
elephants might emerge on the opposite side of the lake, and even if
they were to come out of the water at any nearer place, it would be
difficult to see them well in the dark.

So he gave the command to depart, but on the way he said to Nell:

“Nell, we have seen something which no European has ever seen before.
And do you know what I think? That if we are lucky enough to reach the
ocean no one will believe me when I tell them that there are
water-elephants in Africa.”

“And if you had caught one of them and had taken it along with you to
the ocean?” said Nell, who, as usual, felt satisfied that Stasch could
do anything.

-----

Footnote 42:

In Africa there are many unraveled mysteries. Tales of water-elephants
had repeatedly reached the ears of explorers, but no one credited them.
Lately the Paris Museum of Natural History commissioned Monsieur Le
Petit, who had seen water-elephants on the shores of Lake Leopold in the
Congo, to write on the subject. This report can be seen in the German
Magazine “Kosmos.”

Footnote 43:

Hippopotamus.


                             CHAPTER XXIII

After traveling ten days the caravan issued from the mountain pass and
entered a very different region, an extended plain, mostly level, but
broken here and there by small, wave-like hillocks. The vegetation was
completely changed. No large trees towered above the waving, grassy
plain. Only here and there, quite far apart, there sprang up
rubber-acacias, with coral-colored and umbrella-shaped stems, but scanty
foliage, and therefore furnishing but little shade. In some places
between the ant-hills a species of euphorbia, with branches resembling
the arms of a candlestick, grew taller than the grass. Hawks soared high
in the air, and lower down black and white feathered crow-like birds
flew from one acacia bush to the other. The grass was yellow and had
ears like ripe corn. The dried-up jungle seemed to furnish abundant food
for many different kinds of animals, for during the day the travelers
often met large herds of antelope and a great many zebras. The heat on
the open and treeless plain became unbearable. The sky was cloudless,
the days were fiery hot, and the night did not bring much relief.

Day by day the journey grew more arduous. The small villages through
which the caravan passed were inhabited by the wildest savages, who were
so terror-stricken that they received the travelers very reluctantly,
and if it had not been for the numerous armed men and the sight of white
faces, and King and Saba, great danger would have threatened them.

Stasch, aided by Kali, learned that there were no more villages farther
on, and that they were coming to a waterless district. The tales they
heard were hard to believe, for the numerous animals they saw must have
found some watering-place. But these stories of a desert in which there
was rumored to be neither stream nor puddle frightened the negroes, and
some of them deserted the party, and M’Kunji and M’Pua set the example.
Fortunately, their flight was quickly perceived, and the mounted troupe
which accompanied the travelers discovered them before they had gotten
far from the camp. When they were brought back Kali, by the aid of a
bamboo rod, convinced them of the inadvisability of such a course.
Stasch assembled the whole company and gave them a lecture, which the
young negro translated into their native language. Dwelling on the fact
that at their last headquarters they had heard lions roaring around the
camp all night, Stasch did his best to convince his people that any one
attempting to run away would certainly become their prey, or if he were
to pass the night in an acacia tree the still more terrible wobos would
lie in wait for him. He also said that where there are antelope there
must also be water, and that if in the course of their journey they were
to strike waterless regions, they could take with them enough water for
two or three days in bags of antelope skin. The negroes paid strict
attention to what he said, and continually repeated:

“Oh, mother, how true it is!” but the following night five Samburus and
two Wa-himas deserted, and from that time some one was missing every
night. But M’Kunji and M’Pua did not make a second attempt to escape for
the simple reason that Kali had them bound at sundown every night.

The country became drier and drier, the sun beat down mercilessly on the
jungle, and not a single acacia could now be seen. They still came
across herds of antelope, though fewer than they had seen previously.
The donkey and the horses so far had enough food, for beneath the high
dried grass they found in many places short, green grass only slightly
scorched by the sun. But King, although he was not fastidious, became
much thinner. On approaching an acacia he would break it apart with his
head and trunk and fill himself with young leaves and pods. Until now
the caravan had always been able to strike water, though it was often
bad and had to be filtered, or so salty that it was not fit to drink.
Then it often happened that the men Stasch sent out in advance under
Kali’s guidance would return without having found a single puddle or
even a tiny brook in the hollows of the ground, and Kali would proclaim
in troubled tones, “Madi apana”—“There is no water there.”

Stasch was soon convinced that this long, final journey would certainly
not be easier than the ones they had accomplished before, and he began
to worry about Nell, for a great change had also come over her. Her
face, instead of being tanned by the sun and wind, had become paler and
paler day by day and her eyes had lost their accustomed brilliancy.
Fortunately, on these dry plains there were no flies nor danger of
fever, but it was very evident that the unbearable heat was wasting away
the girl’s strength. Even now the boy looked sadly and apprehensively at
her little hands, which had become as white as paper, and he bitterly
reproached himself for having lost so much time in making preparations
and in instructing the negroes how to shoot that he had to continue the
journey in the hottest time of the year.

With these anxieties the days passed. Even more greedily and mercilessly
the sun drank the dampness and the life from the earth. The grass
shriveled and dried up until it was so brittle that it broke off under
the hoofs of the antelope, which threw up clouds of dust as they passed.
But the travelers now found a small stream, which they distinguished
from a distance by the long rows of trees growing on its banks. The
negroes ran as fast as they could toward the trees, and on arriving at
the bank threw themselves down side by side on the ground, dipping their
heads in the water and drinking so greedily that they only desisted when
a crocodile caught one of them by the hand. Other negroes immediately
hastened to the assistance of their comrade and drew the horrible
reptile out of the water at once, but it would not let go of the man’s
hand, although they opened its jaws with spears and knives. King,
however, made an end of it by trampling it under foot, as if it had been
a rotten mushroom. When the negroes had at last quenched their thirst,
Stasch ordered a round fence of tall bamboos to be erected in the
shallow water, so it could only be entered from one side of the bank,
that Nell might bathe in privacy. The girl was greatly refreshed by the
bath, after which she lay down, and after a rest felt greatly
strengthened.

To the great delight of the whole caravan, including Nell, Bwana Kubwa
decided to remain ten days near the water. When this became known all
felt so happy that they forgot the fatigue they had experienced; some,
after being restored by a good nap, wandered among the trees near the
stream looking for palms that bear wild dates,[44] called Job’s
tears,[45] of which necklaces are made. Some of them returned before
sunset carrying in their hands square, white objects, which Stasch
recognized as his own kites.

One of these kites bore the number seven, which proved that it had been
sent up from Linde Mountain, for the children had sent up at least ten
from that place. The sight of this pleased Stasch so much that he took
heart again.

“I had no idea,” he said to Nell, “that the kites could fly so far. I
was sure that they would be entangled in the peaks of the Karamajo
Mountains, and I only sent them up thinking to let them take their
chance. But now I see that the wind can carry them in any direction, and
I trust those we sent up from the mountains around the Basso-Narok and
on the road here will fly as far as the ocean.”

“They will certainly fly there,” said Nell.

“So be it!” said the boy to strengthen his trust, while thinking of the
dangers and difficulties that still lay before them on their journey.

The third day the caravan started off again, taking with them a large
supply of water in the leather bags. Before nightfall they again came to
a region dried up by the rays of the sun. Not even an acacia was to be
seen, and the ground in some places resembled a threshing-floor.
Occasionally they came across passiflora with stems penetrating the
ground and resembling huge bottle-gourds,[46] as much as four feet or
more in diameter. From these enormous balls grew lianas, thin as twine,
which crept along the ground quite a distance, forming such an
impenetrable thicket that even mice would have had a hard time to find a
way through it. But notwithstanding the beautiful green of these plants,
which remind one of the European bear’s-foot, they were so very thorny
that neither King nor the horses could eat any part of them. The donkey,
however, nibbled at them, though very carefully.

At times they saw nothing for several miles except coarse short grass
and flowers of a low order, like the Dürrblumen,[47] which breaks off at
the merest touch. On their first day in this place the sun beat down in
fiery heat all day long. The air quivered as it does in the Libyan
desert. The earth was so flooded with light that all objects appeared
white. Not a sound, not even the buzzing of insects, broke the deathlike
stillness, through which penetrated the wilting glare.

All in the party were bathed in perspiration. Now and again they would
lay down the baggage, the dried meat, and the shields in a large pile,
so as to find shade beneath it. Stasch gave orders to be sparing of the
water; but negroes are like children, who take no thought for the
morrow. At last it became necessary to place a guard around those who
carried the bags of provisions, and to deal out a fixed allowance of
water to each one separately. Kali fulfilled this task very
conscientiously, but it consumed a great deal of time, retarded their
march, and therefore the finding of new watering-places. The Samburus
now complained that the Wa-himas were given more water than they, and
the Wa-himas complained that the preference was shown to the Samburus.
The latter now threatened to turn back, but Stasch gave them to
understand that if they did Faru would have them beheaded, and he
himself ordered the hunters, who were armed with Remington rifles, to
keep guard and see that no one escaped.

The second night they passed on a barren plain. No boma, or, as they
called it in the Sudanese language, zareba, was erected, for there was
nothing there to build it of.

King and Saba formed the camp guards, which in reality was sufficient
protection; but King, who had not been given a tenth of the water he
needed, trumpeted for it until sunrise, and Saba hung out his tongue,
turned his eyes toward Stasch and Nell, silently begging for at least a
few drops of water to drink. The girl asked Stasch to give the dog a
little drink of water out of one of the rubber bags which they had found
among Linde’s things, and which he wore attached to a cord around his
neck, but he was keeping this for the little girl, in case of dire
necessity, and refused her request.

Toward evening of the fourth day there were only five small bags of
water left, containing hardly enough to give each person half a
glassful. But as the nights were always cooler than the days, one is not
so thirsty then as under the burning rays of the sun, and as every one
had been given a little water to drink in the morning, Stasch ordered
that the water-bags be reserved for the following day. The negroes
grumbled at this, but they still stood in such awe of Stasch that they
did not dare to tamper with the little that was left, especially as
there were always two men armed with Remington rifles keeping guard over
the water-bags, who relieved each other every hour. The Wa-himas and the
Samburus quenched their thirst as best they could by pulling up
miserable blades of grass and chewing their small roots, but even these
had retained no moisture, for the merciless sun had sucked it all out of
the ground.[48]

Although sleep did not quench their thirst, it at least enabled them to
forget it. At night every one of the party, tired and exhausted from the
day’s march, dropped down where he stood, apparently lifeless, and fell
fast asleep. Stasch also slept, but he was too much worried and troubled
to sleep long and restfully. After a few hours he awoke and began to
wonder what the future would bring forth and where he could find water
for Nell and the whole caravan, man and beast. The situation was
difficult and even terrible, but as yet the sensible boy did not yield
to despair. He recalled all that had happened since they had been
carried off from Fayoum until the present moment—the first great
journey through the Sahara, the hurricane in the desert, the escape from
Gebhr, then the journey which they took after Linde’s death to Lake
Basso-Narok and on to where they were now stopping. “We have gone
through so much, and suffered so much,” he said to himself. “How often
it seemed to me that everything had collapsed and I could find no way
out of my difficulties; yet God helped me, and I always found a way out.
It is quite impossible that after having gone so far and been through so
many dangers we should give out on this last journey. We still have a
little water, and this place is certainly not the Sahara, for if it were
the people would surely have known it!”

But he was especially elated by the fact that during the day he had seen
through the telescope indistinct outlines, as of mountains, lying toward
the south. To reach them would mean a journey of perhaps a hundred
miles; but if they only could reach them they would be saved, for
mountains are rarely without water. How much time that would require he
was unable to tell, for it depended on the height of the mountain. In
air so transparent as in Africa high summits can be seen a considerable
distance away, so water must be found nearer by. Otherwise destruction
threatened them.

“It _must_ be done!” Stasch repeated to himself.

The hard breathing of the elephant, who was trying his best to blow the
fiery heat out of his lungs, continually interrupted the thoughts of the
boy. But after a while it seemed to him as if he heard a voice like some
one groaning, which sounded as though it came from another part of the
camp; in fact, from where the water-bags lay covered up for the night
with grass. As the groaning continued, he arose and went to see what was
the matter. The night was so bright that in the distance he could see
two dark bodies lying side by side and the barrels of the guns
glistening in the moonlight.

“The negroes are all alike!” he thought. “They should be guarding this
water, which is now more precious to us than anything else in the world,
and both of them are sleeping as soundly as if in their own huts. Ah!
Kali’s bamboo will be of some use to-morrow!”

With these thoughts he approached nearer and kicked one of the guards,
but immediately drew back horrified—for the apparently sleeping negro
lay on his back with a knife thrust up to the hilt in his throat, and
beside him lay the other man with his throat so terribly cut that his
head was nearly severed from his body.

Two bags of water had disappeared—three lay in the middle of the
uprooted grass slit open and shriveled.

Stasch’s hair stood on end.

-----

Footnote 44:

Phœnix Senegalensis.

Footnote 45:

Coix Lacrymax-Jobi.

Footnote 46:

Adenia globosa.

Footnote 47:

Plants peculiarly adapted to dry climates.

Footnote 48:

For further information regarding the arid plains in these regions see
the excellent book, “Kili Mandjaro,” by Father Le Roy, now Bishop of
Gabun.


                              CHAPTER XXIV

At his cries Kali came running up, and after him the two men who were to
relieve the guards, and then all the Wa-himas and Samburus assembled,
howling and roaring around the place where the crime had been committed.
The greatest noise and confusion ensued, the underlying keynote being
one of fear. The negroes were not so much disturbed on account of the
men having been murdered and a crime committed as they were at having
lost their last drop of water, now absorbed by the parched earth of the
jungle. Several threw themselves on the ground and pulled up lumps of
earth with their fingers and sucked out the remaining moisture. Others
cried that wicked spirits had killed the guards and slit the bags. But
Stasch and Kali knew how much credit to give to these tales. M’Kunji and
M’Pua were missing from the howling throng. More than the murder of two
guards and the theft of water had taken place. The water-bags left
behind, having been torn, proved that it was done for revenge; it meant
death for the whole caravan. The priests of the wicked Msimu had taken
revenge on the good Msimu. The sorcerers had taken revenge on the young
king because he had brought their deceptions to light and had not
permitted them to continue deceiving the stupid Wa-himas. But now death
hovered over the caravan like a hawk over a flock of doves.

Kali remembered, when it was too late, that he had been so sad and also
so busy that he had forgotten to have the sorcerers bound, as he had
done every evening since their attempt to escape. It was also evident
that the two negroes guarding the water had lain down and gone to sleep,
with the inherent thoughtlessness of their race. This had made the work
of the villains easy and permitted them to escape unpunished.

Quite a time elapsed before the excitement subsided and the party
recovered from its dismay. The evil-doers could not as yet have gotten
far away, for the ground under the slit bags was damp and the blood of
the murdered guards was not quite dry. Stasch ordered the fugitives to
be pursued, not with the sole purpose of punishing them, but also to
recover the last two water-bags. Kali immediately mounted a horse and
with several riflemen started in pursuit. It occurred to Stasch, who had
first thought of accompanying them, that because of the excitement and
the disturbed state of the negroes he could not possibly leave Nell
alone with them; so he remained behind, but he ordered Kali to take Saba
with him.

He was greatly afraid there would be an uprising, and he felt sure that
the Samburus would revolt. But in this he was mistaken. Negroes are
given to revolt, and sometimes even for trivial reasons, but when
overpowered by misfortune, and especially when the merciless hand of
death weighs heavily on them, they yield without making any attempt at
resistance. This applies not only to those whom Islam has taught that it
is useless to struggle against fate, but to all without exception. Then
neither fear nor the agony of their last moments can awaken them from
their lethargy. This was the case now. As soon as the first excitement
was over and the Wa-himas and the Samburus realized that they must
eventually die, they lay down quietly on the ground to wait for death;
therefore no rebellion was to be expected; on the contrary, it was
doubtful if they would get up the following morning and be willing to
continue the journey.

Stasch felt deeply sorry for them.

Kali returned before daybreak, and immediately placed in front of Stasch
two torn bags, in which not a drop of water remained.

“Great Man,” he said, “Madi, apana!”

Stasch wiped his forehead, which was streaming with perspiration from
fright and worry; then he asked:

“And M’Kunji and M’Pua?”

“M’Kunji and M’Pua are dead,” answered Kali.

“You have killed them?”

“Lion or wobo killed them!”

And he began to relate what had happened. They found the corpses of the
two criminals at quite a distance from the camp, where they had been
killed. They lay side by side; both had had their skulls crushed in from
behind, their shoulders torn, and their backs eaten. Kali conjectured
that a wobo or a lion had appeared before them in the moonlight and that
they had fallen on their faces to beseech it to spare their lives. But
the terrible beast had killed them both; then, having satisfied its
appetite, it scented the water and tore the bags to pieces.

“God has punished them,” said Stasch, “and the Wa-himas will now be
convinced that the wicked Msimu can save no one.”

And Kali repeated:

“God has punished them, but we have no water.”

“Ahead of us, far off toward the east, I have seen mountains. There must
be water there.”

“Kali has also seen them, but to get to them are many, many days——”

A short silence ensued.

“Sir,” said Kali, “good Msimu, Bibi, should pray to the Great Spirit for
rain or for a stream of water.”

Stasch made no reply, but moved away. He saw Nell’s little white figure
in front of the tent, for the screams and howls of the negroes had
awakened her some time before.

“Stasch, what has happened?” she asked, hurrying toward him.

He laid his hand on her little head and said gravely:

“Nell, pray to God for water—or we are all doomed to die!”

And so the little girl raised her small, pale face to heaven; fixing her
eyes on the silver disk of the moon, she prayed for deliverance to Him
who in heaven guides the stars, and on earth tempers the wind to the
shorn lamb.

After a sleepless, noisy, and distracted night the sun appeared on the
horizon with the suddenness that prevails only at the equator; at once
it was bright daylight. Not a drop of dew on the grass, not a cloud in
the sky.

Stasch ordered the riflemen to gather the negroes together, and he
addressed a few words to them. He explained that it was impossible to
return to the river, for they knew full well that they were five days’
or five nights’ journey from it. But, on the other hand, no one could
tell whether they might not find water in the opposite direction. In
their immediate neighborhood a spring, a tiny stream, or a pool might be
found; for although no trees could be seen, it often happens that on
open plains where seeds are blown away by hurricanes there is water,
though no trees. The day before they had seen several large antelope and
ostriches running eastward, which was a sign that there must be a
watering-place somewhere in that direction. Therefore any one not a fool
or chicken-hearted, but having a brave heart like the lion and buffalo,
would prefer to march on, even though suffering tortures from thirst,
rather than to remain lying on the ground waiting for the hawks and
hyenas to devour them. At these words he pointed with his hand to some
hawks flying in circles over the caravan, the harbingers of disaster.
Nearly all the Wa-himas, whom Kali had ordered to arise, stood up when
they heard these words; being accustomed to despotic rule, they did not
dare to show the least resistance. Many of the Samburus, however,
because their king Faru had remained behind at the lake, did not want to
get up again, and they said to one another: “Why should we seek death
when death is seeking us?”

Thus the caravan, now reduced by nearly one-half, broke camp, and even
this exertion caused the men much torture and pain. For twenty-four
hours no one had tasted a drop of water or any other liquid. Even in a
cooler climate this would have caused most acute suffering, and what
must it mean to these—now laboring in this African furnace, in which,
even if water be drunk in plenty, the perspiration follows so rapidly
that one can wipe it off his skin almost the same moment it is
swallowed. It was certain that many of the party would collapse by the
way from exhaustion and sunstroke. Stasch protected Nell from the sun as
best he could, and would not allow her for a second to put her head out
of the palanquin, the roof of which, by the way, he had covered with a
piece of white percale to make it a double protection against the
blighting rays. He used the water still remaining in the rubber bag to
make some strong tea and served it to her without sugar, because sweets
increase thirst. The girl pleaded with tears in her eyes for him to
drink, too, and at last he put the bottle, in which scarcely a few
thimblefuls of water remained, to his lips, and moving his throat,
pretended to drink. At the same moment, as he felt the touch of moisture
on his lips, it seemed to him as though a flame were burning in his
chest and stomach, and that if he could not extinguish it he would drop
dead. Red circles began to glimmer before his eyes, terrible stinging
pains shot through his jaw as of a thousand needles. His hand trembled
so that he came near spilling the last precious drops, but he only
moistened his tongue and reserved the rest for Nell.

Another day of suffering and fatigue ensued, which was fortunately
followed by a cool night. The next morning the burning heat again beat
down and not a breath of air was stirring. The sun, like a spirit of
evil, devastated the parched soil with its deadly fire. The edge of the
sky down near the horizon was a pale hue, and as far as the eye could
reach not even a bush could be seen. Nothing—only a burned, desert
plain, covered with tufts of blackened grass and heather. Occasionally a
slight rumble of thunder was heard in the far distance, but coming from
a clear sky it was a sign of drought, not of rain.

At noon, when the heat was at its worst, it became necessary to halt.
The caravan rested in gloomy silence. Two horses had dropped down, and a
number of negroes had fallen behind. During this rest no one thought
about eating. The eyes of all were sunken, their lips cracked, and on
them were dried clots of blood. Nell gasped like a languid little bird,
so Stasch handed her two rubber-bags; and crying out, “I have drunk, I
have drunk!” ran toward the other side of the camp, fearing that if he
remained he would take the water away from her or ask her to share it
with him. Perhaps this was the most heroic thing he had done during the
entire journey. His sufferings increased under these tortures. Red
circles continually glimmered before his eyes. Such a terrible pressure
was in his jaws that he could open and shut them only with difficulty.
His throat was parched and feverishly hot, there was no saliva in his
mouth, and his tongue was dry as wood.

But this was only the beginning of the torture for him and for the
caravan. The rumbling of thunder near the horizon, a sign of drought,
continued. About three o’clock, when the sun turned toward the western
side of the heavens, Stasch ordered the caravan to march. He placed
himself at its head and led it toward the east. He had now scarcely
seventy men, and now and then one of these would lie down beside his
burden never to rise again. The thermometer went down a few degrees, but
even then it was murderously hot. The motionless air was filled with
suffocating humidity, and they could scarcely breathe. The animals also
suffered. Saba’s sides heaved up and down, and he panted laboriously;
not a drop of froth fell from his tongue, which was black and hanging
out of his mouth. King, who was used to the dry African jungle, did not
seem to suffer much, but still he began to be troublesome. A strange
light shone in his tiny eyes. He still answered Stasch, and especially
Nell, who occasionally talked to him, with a grunt, but when Kali
thoughtlessly passed him by King snorted threateningly and waved his
trunk so frantically that the boy would probably have been killed had he
not sprung quickly aside.

Kali’s eyes were bloodshot, the veins of his throat were swollen, and
his lips were cracked like those of the other negroes. Toward five
o’clock he approached Stasch, and with great difficulty moved his throat
sufficiently to say in a hollow voice:

“Great Man, Kali can go no farther. He will stay here for the night.”

Stasch controlled the pain in his jaw and answered with difficulty:

“All right; let us halt. The night will bring relief.”

“It will bring death,” whispered the young negro. The negroes threw down
the burdens, but they did not lie down immediately, as the fever, which
had thickened their blood, was now at its height. Their hearts and the
pulses in hands and feet beat so heavily that it seemed they must burst.
The skin on their bodies, dry and shriveled, began to itch. In their
bones they felt an intense restlessness, and a fiery heat seemed to
consume their throats and intestines. Many walked restlessly up and down
between the piles of baggage. By the rays of the dying sun, others,
farther away, could be seen, following each other among the parched
bushes until their strength was utterly exhausted. Then one by one they
fell to the ground, not resting quietly, but twitching more
spasmodically than before. Kali sat down, in Turkish fashion, next to
Stasch and Nell, with his mouth open and gasping for air. Between
breaths he begged beseechingly:

“Bwana Kubwa, water!”

Stasch looked at him with a glassy stare and was silent.

“Bwana Kubwa, water!”

And after a while:

“Kali die——”

Therefore Mea, who for some reason was able to bear the thirst better
than any one else, sat down beside him, and putting her arms around his
neck, said in a soft, melodious voice:

“Mea will die along with Kali——”

A long pause ensued.

                 *        *        *        *        *

Meanwhile the sun went down and the night clothed the landscape in
darkness. The heavens became dark blue. In the southern sky shone the
cross. Over the plain glittered myriads of stars. The moon rose and its
light pervaded the darkness, and in the west the pale twilight of the
zodiac spread far and wide. The atmosphere became a huge glittering
flood. An even more brilliant glow spread over the landscape. The
palanquin, which they forgot to remove from King’s back, and the tents
shone as if made of white marble. The world sank into deathlike silence;
sleep enveloped the earth. And in the midst of nature’s tranquil
peacefulness Stasch and his followers writhed in pain, waiting for
death. On the silver background of the twilight the huge form of the
elephant stood out distinctly. The moonlight illuminated the tent,
Stasch’s and Nell’s white clothes, the spaces between the bushes of
heather, the dark, cramped, and distorted bodies of the negroes and the
baggage-strewn ground. Saba sat on his hind legs in front of the
children and howled sadly with head turned toward the moon. Not a
thought was left in the soul of Stasch—nothing but dumb despair. He
felt there was no help, no way out, that all their terrible fatigue and
hardships, all the sufferings and courageous deeds done on the terrible
journey—from Medinet to Khartum, from Khartum to Fashoda, from Fashoda
to the unknown lake—had been utterly useless, and that they could not
escape the inexorable end of the struggle—death. It appeared all the
more dreadful to him since it would come on the last stretch of the
journey—at whose end lay the ocean. Oh, he could never take Nell to the
coast, nor put her on the ship for Port Said; he could never give her
back to her father, nor fall into his father’s arms and hear him say
that he had acted like a brave boy and a true Pole! It was all over! In
a few days the sun would shine but on lifeless bodies; then it would dry
them up like the mummies that sleep the everlasting sleep in Egyptian
museums!

His brain was turning from the pain and heat and fever; he saw visions
of death struggles, and there came to him strange sounds. He distinctly
heard the voices of the Sudanese and the Bedouins crying, “Yalla!
Yalla!” as they mercilessly whipped their frightened camels. He saw
Idris and Gebhr. The Mahdi smiled at him with his thick lips and asked:
“Will you drink of the fountain of truth?” A lion standing on a rock
gazed at him, then Linde gave him a jar of quinine and said: “Make
haste, for the little one is dying!” Then he only saw a pale, sweet
little face and two little hands stretched toward him.

Suddenly he shuddered; for a moment consciousness came back to
him—close to his ear Nell’s soft, sad, pleading voice whispered:

“Stasch—water!”

She, as did Kali, rested her hope on him. But as he had given her the
last drops of water twelve hours before, he now controlled himself and
cried out with a voice full of emotion, pain, and despair:

“Oh, Nell, I only pretended to drink! For the last three days I have not
tasted a drop!”

And holding his head in despair, he ran away that he might not see how
she suffered. Blindly up and down between the tufts of grass and heather
he ran, until his strength was utterly exhausted and he sank down on one
of the bushes. No weapon of any kind was in his hand. A leopard, lion,
or even a large hyena would have found him easy prey. But only Saba came
running up, sniffing at him and howling, as if he, too, were asking for
help.

No one came to their assistance. Only the calm, indifferent moon looked
down upon them from above. For a long time the boy lay as if lifeless.
When a cooler breath of wind, unexpectedly blowing from the east,
restored him to his senses, he raised himself and tried to stand and go
to Nell.

Now there blew another cool breath of wind. Saba ceased to howl, turned
toward the east, and began to expand his nostrils. Suddenly he barked
once in a sharp bass tone and then a second time, and ran on straight
ahead. For a time he seemed to be silent, but soon his bark was heard in
the distance. Stasch stood up, and staggering about on his benumbed
legs, looked in the direction taken by Saba. The lengthy journeys, the
long sojourn in the jungle, the necessity of keeping all his senses
strung up to their highest pitch, and the incessant dangers he had
encountered had taught the boy to observe everything that was going on
about him. And so, notwithstanding the tortures he suffered at the
moment, and though he was only semi-conscious, he began from instinct to
note the movements of the dog. After a while Saba returned, but he
seemed disturbed and very restless. Several times he looked up at
Stasch, walked around him, ran away in the heather sniffing and barking,
and again returned, and at last taking hold of the boy’s clothes, he
began to drag him toward the opposite side of the camp.

Stasch had now fully regained his presence of mind.

“What is that?” he thought. “Either the dog has gone mad from thirst or
he has scented water. But no!— If there were water near by he would
have run there to drink and his throat would be wet. But if the water be
far off he has not scented it—for water has no scent. He is not pulling
me toward some kind of prey, for this evening he refused to eat. Then
what can it mean?”

And suddenly his heart began to beat faster in his breast.

“Perhaps the wind has brought him the scent of human beings?—
Perhaps—perhaps there is a negro village in the distance?—perhaps one
of the kites— O merciful Jesus! O Jesus!——”

A faint ray of hope spurred him on; he felt stronger and tried to run
toward the camp, in spite of the resistance of the dog, who continually
barred the way. From the camp Nell’s white form shone out and her weak
voice reached him; soon afterward he stumbled over Kali lying on the
ground, but he took no heed of anything. Reaching the piece of baggage
in which the rockets were kept, he tore it open, took one out, with
trembling hands bound it to a bamboo post, pushed it into the earth, and
lighted the fuse.

Soon a red snake shot up, spluttering noisily into the air. Stasch
caught hold of the bamboo rod with both hands to prevent himself from
falling, and gazed fixedly into the distance. The pulses in his hands
and temples beat hard and his lips moved in fervent prayer. He felt that
in this his last breath his heart was calling on Heaven for help.

A second, a third, a fourth minute elapsed. Nothing—and again nothing!
The boy’s hands fell at his side, his head sank to the ground, and
dreadful pain filled his tortured breast.

“In vain! In vain!” he moaned. “I shall go and sit down by Nell, and we
shall die together.”

At the same moment far, far off in the silvery background of the moonlit
night a fiery streak rose into the air and broke into golden stars,
which slowly fell to the ground like large tears.

“We are saved!” cried Stasch.

Then the people, half dead but a moment ago, sprang up, running to and
fro, jumping over the grass and tufts of heather. After the first
rocket, a second and a third were sent up. Then a gust of wind brought
the echo of a peculiar cracking sound, very evidently caused by distant
shots. In reply Stasch ordered all the rifles fired off, and from that
time the guns answered each other without intermission, and the noises
became more and more distinct. The boy now mounted a horse, which also
had—as if by a miracle—regained some strength, and holding Nell before
him, galloped over the plain toward the sound of deliverance. Saba ran
alongside, and behind him tramped the huge King. The two camps were
several kilometers apart, but each party was hurrying toward the other,
and so the ride was not a long one. The flashes from the guns could now
be seen. Another rocket, the last, arose in the air, at a distance of
not more than several hundred feet away. Then numerous lights shone. A
slight swell of the ground hid them for a while, but when Stasch mounted
it he found himself face to face with a line of negroes holding burning
torches in their hands.

At the head of the line marched two Europeans wearing English helmets
and carrying guns.

At a glance Stasch recognized Captain Glen and Dr. Clary.


                              CHAPTER XXV

The expedition of Captain Glen and Dr. Clary certainly was not organized
to seek Stasch and Nell. It was a large and well-equipped government
expedition, sent out to explore the northeast slopes of the giant
mountain Kilima-Njaro, and also the but little known large tracts to the
north of this mountain. It is true that the Captain and the Doctor knew
about the kidnapping of the children from Medinet el-Fayoum, for English
and Arabic newspapers had published accounts of it, but they thought
that both had died or else were languishing as prisoners of the Mahdi,
from whom not a single European captive had regained his freedom. Clary,
whose sister was married to Rawlison of Bombay, and who on his trip to
Cairo had been quite taken with little Nell, missed her very much. But
they were also very sorry for the brave boy. They had sent several
telegrams from Mombasa to Mr. Rawlison asking whether the children had
been found, and only after the last unfavorable answer, which arrived
some time before the departure of the caravan, did they finally give up
every hope of finding them.

It never even occurred to them that the children, who were kidnapped in
distant Khartum, might turn up in this district. But in the evenings,
after the day’s work was over, they often conversed about them, for the
doctor could not forget the beautiful little girl.

Meanwhile the caravan advanced still farther. After staying quite some
time on the eastern slopes of Kilima-Njaro and exploring the upper
course of the rivers Sabaki and Tana, as well as the Kenia Mountains,
the captain and the doctor turned off northward, and after having
crossed the swampy Guasso-Nyjro, came into a wide, uninhabited plain,
over which roamed only innumerable herds of antelope. After a journey of
more than three months, the people needed a longer rest, and so Captain
Glen, after having come to a fairly large lake containing plenty of
brown but healthy water, ordered the tents to be erected on its banks
for a ten days’ halt.

During the preparations for camping the white people busied themselves
with hunting and sorting their geographical and natural science notes,
and the negroes fell into their well-beloved idleness. It happened one
day that Dr. Clary, rising early, and approaching the shore, saw several
Zanzibar negroes belonging to the caravan with their faces upturned
looking at the top of a tall tree and repeating over and over again:

“Ndege? Akuna ndege! Ndege?”—“A bird? No bird! A bird?”

The doctor was shortsighted, so he sent to the tent for a telescope;
then he looked through it at the object to which the negroes pointed,
and great surprise showed on his face:

“Call the captain here!” he said.

Before the negroes had reached him the captain appeared outside the
tent; he was about to start on an antelope hunt.

“Glen, look!” cried the doctor, pointing upward.

The captain raised his head, covered his eyes with his hands, and showed
as much surprise as did the doctor.

“A kite!” he cried.

“Yes; but negroes don’t send up kites! Where can it come from?”

“There may be a settlement of white people or a mission in the
neighborhood——”

“This is the third day the wind has blown from the west, over a region
as unknown and perhaps as uninhabited as is this jungle. Besides, you
know that there are no settlements or missions hereabouts.”

“Indeed, it is very strange and interesting.”

“We must certainty take down the kite.”

“Yes. Perhaps then we shall find out where it came from.”

The captain gave a short order. The tree was several feet high, but in a
moment the negroes had reached the top, carefully unfastened the kite,
taken it down, and handed it to the doctor, who examined it quickly and
said:

“There’s writing on it—let us look!”

And in order to see better he half closed his eyes and began to read:

Suddenly his face changed and his hand trembled.

“Glen,” he said, “take that; read it through, and convince me that I
have not had a sun-stroke, and that I am still in my right senses!”

The captain took the bamboo frame to which the sheet of paper was
attached and read the following:

    “Nell Rawlison and Stanislaus Tarkowski, who were sent from
    Khartum to Fashoda, and were transported from Fashoda to the
    east of the Nile, have freed themselves from the hands of the
    Dervishes. After a journey of many months they have arrived at a
    lake which lies to the south of Abyssinia. They are going to the
    ocean. They beg for help.”

And on the other side of the sheet was found the following postscript:

    “This, the fifty-fifth kite, was sent up from a group of
    mountains which surrounds a lake not mentioned in geography.
    Whosoever finds it should send the news to the canal
    administration in Port Said, or to Captain Glen in Mombasa.”

                                              Stanislaus Tarkowski.

When the captain’s voice had ceased the two friends silently regarded
each other.

“What does it mean?” at last asked Dr. Clary.

“I can’t believe my eyes!” answered the captain.

“But is there no mistake?”

“No.”

“There it is, plainly written: ‘Nell Rawlison and Stanislaus Tarkowski.’
”

“There it is as plain as can be——”

“And perhaps they may be in this vicinity?”

“So God has apparently saved them.”

“All thanks be to Him!” cried the doctor enthusiastically.

“But in what direction shall we look for them?”

“Is there nothing more on the kite?”

“There were several other words, but on a part torn by the branches; it
is hard to read them.”

Both leaned their heads over the paper, and only after a lengthy
examination were they able to spell:

“The rainy season has long since passed.”

“What does that mean?” asked the doctor.

“That the boy has lost his reckoning of time.”

“And in this way he tried to give the date as best he could.”

“You are right. So this kite can not have been sent up such a very long
while ago.”

“If that is the case, then they can not be very far off by this time.”

This feverish, abrupt conversation lasted a little longer; then they
both began to inspect the document again and to consider every word
written on it. But it all seemed so improbable, that had it not come
from a place where not even one European could be found—more than six
hundred kilometers distant from the nearest coast—the doctor and the
captain would have been inclined to think it a joke played by European
or mission children after having read in the newspapers about the
kidnapping. Still it was hard for them not to believe their eyes; for
they had the kite in their hands, and the inscription, being scarcely
blurred at all, was quite distinct.

Notwithstanding, there were many things about it that they could not
understand. Where could the children have procured the paper for the
kites? If they had obtained it from a caravan, they would have joined
the caravan, and so would not have been obliged to ask for assistance.
Why had the boy not tried to escape to Abyssinia with his little
companion? Why had the Dervishes sent them to the east of the Nile in an
unknown country? How had they been able to escape from the Dervishes?
Where were they hiding? By what miracle had they not starved to death
during this journey of many months? By what miracle had they not become
the prey of wild beasts? Why had the savages not killed them? To all
these questions they could find no answers.

“I can’t understand it. I can’t understand it!” repeated Dr. Clary. “It
surely is a miracle of God’s working.”

“It would seem so!” answered the captain.

Then he added:

“But there’s a fine boy for you! This must be his work!”

“And he did not leave the little one in the lurch. God bless his head
and his heart.”

“Stanley—yes, even Stanley—placed as he was, could not have kept up
over three days.”

“And they are still alive!”

“But they beg for help. What’s past is past. We must depart
immediately.”

And so they set out. On the way the two friends continually re-examined
the document, trusting that they might find directions on it to guide
them in going to the children’s assistance. But no such directions were
found. The captain led the caravan in a zigzag path, hoping he might
find some trace of them—the remains of some campfire or a tree with
marks cut into the bark. In this way they traveled on for several days,
when unfortunately they found themselves on a treeless plain, covered
with tall heather and tufts of dried grass. The two travelers were now
very much alarmed. How easy, they thought, was it to miss even a large
caravan on these vast prairies and how much easier it was to miss two
children, who, as they supposed, were creeping along somewhere in the
tall heather like two little worms. Another day passed. Neither the tin
cans with notes inside them which they left behind them tied to bushes,
nor the watch-fires burning during the night were of any avail. The
captain and the doctor from time to time began to lose hope of ever
finding the children; indeed, they felt quite sure they were no longer
alive. Nevertheless, they continued searching diligently for several
days. At last the scouts whom Glen sent out to reconnoiter brought news
that in front of them lay an absolutely arid desert; so when they
accidentally came across water in a hollow of the ground they were
obliged to halt to make provision for the coming journey.

The hollow was several feet deep and very narrow. At its bottom a hot
spring bubbled and boiled, for it was saturated with carbonic gas. The
water when cooled proved to be good and wholesome. There was so much
water in the spring that thirty men of their caravan were unable to
empty it. On the contrary, the more water they dipped out the higher it
spurted forth.

“Perhaps in time,” said Dr. Clary, “invalids will come here to be cured
by this water, but at present the steep side of the cliff renders it
inaccessible even to animals. Can it be possible that the children have
found a similar spring?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps there are more like these in this part of the
country. If not, the children will surely die of thirst.”

The night approached. They lighted several fires, but no boma was
erected, for they could find no materials with which to build it.

After supper the doctor and the captain sat down on camp-stools, lighted
their pipes, and began to converse on the subject that weighed most
heavily on their hearts.

“Not the least trace!” Clary began.

“It had occurred to me,” answered Glen, “to send ten of our people to
the coast with a telegram, stating that news from the children had been
received. But I am glad that I did not send it, for the messengers would
most likely have given out on the way, and even if they had reached
their destination, what good would it do to raise false hopes——”

“And increase their grief——”

The doctor removed his white helmet and wiped his perspiring forehead.
“Listen,” said he. “Suppose we were to return to that lake, and have
niches cut in the bark of the trees and large fires burning by night!
Perhaps the children would see these signs.”

“If they are in the neighborhood we would not need to take these means
to find them, and if they are far away the rise in the ground would hide
the fires. This plateau only appears to be level; in reality it is
covered with ridges and waves like the ocean. Besides, if we were to
retrace our steps we would lose all hope of finding a vestige of them.”

“Speak plainly. You have lost all hope?”

“My friend, we are grown, strong, experienced men; just imagine what
would have become of us if we had been stranded here by ourselves, even
if supplied with water, had we no provisions or men!”

“Yes, unfortunately—yes, I can picture to myself two children traveling
through the desert on a night like this——”

“Hunger, thirst, and wild animals——”

“And yet the boy writes that they have dragged through long months in
this way.”

“I can not possibly imagine it.”

For a long time all that disturbed the silence of the night was the
crackling of the tobacco in their pipes. The doctor stared into the pale
depth of the night, and then in a suppressed voice said:

“It is now late; but I can not sleep. And to think that, if they are
still alive, perhaps they are wandering around here somewhere in the
moonlight between these dried tufts of heather—alone—such young
children! Glen, do you remember the angel face of the little one?”

“I remember it perfectly, and shall not forget it.”

“Ah, I would gladly have my hand cut off if——”

He did not finish the sentence, for Captain Glen jumped up as suddenly
as if scalding water had been poured over him.

“A rocket in the distance!” he cried. “A rocket!”

“A rocket!” repeated the doctor.

“There must be a caravan ahead of us.”

“Perhaps it has come across the children!”

“Perhaps. Let us make haste to meet them.”

“Forward!”

The captain’s orders were at once heard throughout the camp. The
Zanzibar negroes sprang to their feet. Torches were lighted, and in
answer to the distant signals Glen ordered rockets sent up in rapid
succession and shots to be fired.

In less than a quarter of an hour the entire camp was on its way.

From a distance were heard shots responding to theirs. There was no
longer any doubt but that some European caravan was for some unknown
reason asking for help.

The captain and the doctor ran as fast as they possibly could,
alternately hoping and fearing. Would they find the children or not? The
doctor said to himself that if they did not find them they could at
least search for their bodies in the dreadful heather-fields.

Half an hour later one of those ridges of which they had spoken shut off
the view from the two friends. But they were now so near that they
distinctly heard the tramping of horses. A few minutes more and a rider
appeared on the top of a hillock; he held a large white object in front
of him on the saddle.

“Hold the torches high!” commanded Glen.

At the same moment the rider brought his horse to a standstill within
the circle of lights.

“Water! Water!”

“The children!” cried Dr. Clary.

[Illustration:  “ ‘Water! Water!’ repeated Stasch.” ]

                  “ ‘The children!’ cried Dr. Clary.”

“Water!” repeated Stasch.

And he almost threw Nell into the arms of the captain and then he sprang
out of the saddle. The next moment he staggered to the ground as if
lifeless.

                 *        *        *        *        *

The rejoicing of the rescuers was boundless, but the credulity of the
two Englishmen was put to a severe test, as they had been unable to
comprehend how the children by themselves had been able to travel over
the measureless tracts of land and the deserts which separated their
present position from the Nile and Fashoda; neither could they
conjecture how “the young Pole,” as they called Stasch, could have done
it, and how it was that he appeared before them as the leader of a large
caravan—armed with European weapons—with an elephant who carried a
palanquin, with horses, tents, and a considerable amount of provisions.
At this astounding sight the captain stretched out his hands, saying
over and over again: “Clary, I have seen a great deal in my life, but
never a boy like this,” and the good doctor, equally astonished, said:

“And he released the little one from captivity—and saved her!” After
having made this remark, he ran to the tents to see how the children
were and if they were sleeping comfortably.

After they had had food and drink, the children were undressed and put
to bed, and slept during the whole of the following day as soundly as if
they were dead, and so did the men belonging to their caravan. Captain
Glen attempted to question Kali about their adventures and about
Stasch’s part in them, but the young negro merely opened one eye and
answered: “The Great Man can do everything,” and went to sleep again. So
they were obliged to put off their questions until the following day.

Meanwhile the two friends consulted with each other as to the journey
back to Mombasa. They had already traveled farther and explored larger
tracts than their commission called for, and so they decided to return
at once. The unknown lake had a great fascination for the captain, but
the welfare of the children and the desire to take them back to their
grief-stricken fathers as soon as possible turned the scales. The doctor
insisted that at present they should take a good rest on the cool
summits of the Kenia or Kilima-Njaro Mountains. They also decided not to
send word to the children’s fathers until they reached the mountains,
and then tell them to come to Mombasa.

On the third day, after they were well rested and had bathed several
times, they started on their return journey. Now they were obliged to
part from Kali. Stasch convinced the little one that it would be selfish
for her to take him with them to the ocean, or even as far as Egypt, for
even in England Kali would be nothing more than a servant, while if he
were to rule over his people he could, as king, spread the Christian
religion and ameliorate the savage customs of the Wa-himas, and not only
civilize them, but make them good. He also expressed similar sentiments
to Kali. Many tears were shed at parting. Stasch was not ashamed to
weep, for had not he and Nell been through much happiness and misery in
common with Kali? And not only had they both learned to appreciate his
kind heart, but they had also grown very fond of him. The young negro
lay a long time at the feet of his Bwana Kubwa and of the “good Msimu.”
He turned back twice to look at them, but at last the moment of parting
had come, and the two caravans separated, going in opposite directions.

                 *        *        *        *        *

It was only after they were under way that the adventures of the two
little travelers were told. Stasch, who used to be so fond of boasting,
did not sound his own praises at all now, for he had accomplished so
many things and gone through so much that he had developed sufficiently
to recognize that facts speak louder than words—that deeds alone, even
when told as modestly as possible, speak for themselves. Daily, during
the hot “white hours,” and evenings in the bivouac, the events and
adventures which the children had suffered passed before the eyes of the
captain and the doctor like moving pictures. In this way they saw them
carried off from Medinet-el-Fayoum, and the terrible journey on camels
through the desert—Khartum and Omdurman, which was a hell on earth—and
the designing Mahdi. When Stasch told how he had replied to the Mahdi
when the latter wanted him to change his religion, the two friends arose
and each of them in turn grasped Stasch’s right hand firmly. Then the
captain said:

“The Mahdi is not living now!”

“The Mahdi not living now!” repeated Stasch, surprised.

“That’s true,” the doctor continued. “He was suffocated in his own fat,
or, properly speaking, he died of fatty degeneration of the heart, and
Abdullah[49] has taken command.”

A long pause ensued.

“Ha!” said Stasch. “When he sent us to meet our death in Fashoda he had
no idea that death would overtake him first.”

And after a while he added:

“But Abdullah is even more cruel than the Mahdi.”

“And that has led to the present revolts and slaughter,” answered the
captain, “and the whole structure of government which the Mahdi erected
is bound to fall sooner or later.”

“And what will happen then?”

“England,” answered the captain.

During the rest of the journey Stasch told them about the trip to
Fashoda, about the death of old Dinah, their departure from Fashoda,
their journey to uninhabited districts, and their search for Smain. When
he came to the part where he had killed the lion and then Gebhr and
Chamis and the two Bedouins, the captain interrupted him, exclaiming,
“All right!” and once more grasping his right hand. He and Clary
continued to listen with increasing interest about the taming of King,
their dwelling in “Cracow,” Nell’s fever, the finding of Linde, and the
kites, which the children sent up from the Karamajo Mountains. The
doctor, who grew fonder of little Nell day by day, was so especially
interested in all that had threatened to harm her that from time to time
he had to strengthen himself with a drop of brandy, and when Stasch
began to relate how she had nearly become the prey of the terrible wobo
he took the little girl in his arms, and would not let her go for some
time, as if afraid that some new beast of prey might threaten her life.

What he and the captain thought of Stasch was expressed in two telegrams
which they sent off two weeks later (after they had reached the foot of
Kilima-Njaro) by messengers, who had orders to forward as soon as
possible to the two fathers.

The first telegram was carefully worded and sent to Port Said. It was as
follows:

    “Thanks to the boy, have good news of the children. Come to
    Mombasa.”

The second was more explicit and addressed to Aden. It read:

    “The children are safe in our hands. The boy a hero!”

They made a halt of two weeks on the cool summits of Kilima-Njaro, for
Dr. Clary urged this on account of the health of Nell and of Stasch. The
children adored this sky-high mountain, which possessed every kind of
climate imaginable. Its two peaks, Kibo and Mawenzi, were usually
clothed in thick mists during the day, but when the mists suddenly
lifted on clear evenings the everlasting snows on the summit of Mawenzi
shone with a rosy glow, reflected from the sunset, while all the rest of
the world was already wrapped in darkness—the mountain resembled a
shining altar of God. At this sight the children unconsciously folded
their hands in prayer.

For Stasch the days of worry, anxiety, and trouble were over. They now
had a journey of a month before reaching Mombasa, and the road lay
through the beautiful but unhealthy Tawet forest. How much easier was it
now to travel over well-known roads with a numerous and well-equipped
caravan than to wander around in an unknown wilderness accompanied by
Kali and Mea. Besides, Captain Glen now took charge of the journey.
Stasch recovered and went hunting. Having found a chisel and hammer
among the tools of the caravan, he set to work during the cool hours to
chisel on a large gneiss rock the following inscription: “Poland is not
lost yet!” for he wished to leave at least a trace of their sojourn in
this country. The Englishmen, to whom he translated the inscription,
were surprised that the boy had not thought of perpetuating his own name
by carving it on a rock in Africa. But he preferred the sentiments he
had chiseled on it.

He continued to protect Nell, and this gave her such an unlimited
confidence in him that when Dr. Clary asked her whether she was not
afraid of the storms on the Red Sea, the girl rested her beautiful soft
eyes on him and replied, “Stasch will know what to do!” Captain Glen
said that no one could have given a truer and more beautiful proof of
what Stasch was to the little one or given him higher praise.

                 *        *        *        *        *

Although the first telegram sent to Mr. Tarkowski at Port Said was very
carefully worded, it produced such a great effect on Nell’s father that
he nearly died of joy, and Mr. Tarkowski, although an unusually
demonstrative man, knelt down to pray and besought God that this news
might not be another false clue or the result of a diseased imagination
brought about by their own longing and their grief. For had they not
both done everything trying to ascertain if their children were still
alive? Mr. Rawlison had led caravans to the Sudan, and Mr. Tarkowski,
dressed as an Arab, had gone as far as Khartum, thereby greatly
endangering his life. Nothing had been of any avail. Those who might
have given them some news had died from smallpox or from hunger or had
been killed in the bloody fights that were continually being waged, and
there seemed no more trace of the children than if they had fallen into
the water and disappeared. At last both fathers gave up all hope and
only lived on remembrances, firmly convinced that there was nothing in
life for them, and that death alone would reunite them to their loved
ones, who were everything to them. When this great joy suddenly came to
them it was almost more than they could bear; nevertheless, it was
accompanied by uncertainty and surprise. Neither of them could
comprehend how and in what manner the news of the children had come from
this part of Africa; that is to say, from Mombasa. Mr. Tarkowski
imagined that an Arab caravan, advancing from the eastern coast after
having been in the interior hunting for ivory, had reached the Nile and
had either bought their freedom or had stolen them. The words of the
telegram, “thanks to the boy,” they accounted for in the following
manner: They conjectured that Stasch must have written to the captain
and the doctor and told them where he and Nell were to be found. But
there were many things which it was impossible to explain. On the other
hand, Mr. Tarkowski clearly saw that this was not only _good_ news, but
_very_ good news, for otherwise the captain and the doctor would not
have dared to arouse their hopes, and besides, they would not have told
them to come to Mombasa.

The preparations for the journey were soon made, and on the second day
after receiving the telegrams both engineers, with Nell’s governess,
boarded a large steamer of the Peninsula and Orient Company, which was
on its way to India, and stopped en route at Aden, Mombasa, and
Zanzibar. In Aden a second telegram awaited them, which read: “The
children are safe in our care. The boy a hero!” After he had read it Mr.
Rawlison, nearly beside himself, continually repeated as he grasped Mr.
Tarkowski’s hand:

“You see—he saved her—I owe her life to him——” and Mr. Tarkowski
repressed his feelings, so as not to appear weak, compressed his lips,
and answered: “Yes, the boy has been brave,” and entering his cabin, he
wept for joy.

                 *        *        *        *        *

At last the moment came when the children threw themselves into the arms
of their fathers. Mr. Rawlison took his regained treasure in his arms,
and Mr. Tarkowski held his heroic boy pressed to his heart in a long
embrace. Their calamities had passed by as hurricanes and storms pass
over the desert. Life was once more filled with sunlight and happiness,
their longing and separation even increasing their present rejoicing.
But the children were greatly surprised that their fathers’ hair had
become quite white during the separation.

                 *        *        *        *        *

They returned to Suez on a French boat of the Messageries Maritimes,
which was crowded with passengers from the islands of Réunion,
Mauritius, and from Madagascar, and Zanzibar. When the news that there
were children on board who had been taken captive by the Dervishes and
escaped had become known, Stasch was made the center of general
curiosity and admiration. But the happy quartet preferred to shut
themselves up in the large cabin, which the captain had given up to
them, and pass the cool hours relating their adventures. Nell also took
part, chattering like a little bird, and to the great amusement of
everybody she commenced every sentence with “and.” Resting on her
father’s knees and raising her lovely eyes to him, she talked somewhat
like this: “And, papa, dear! And they carried us off and led us on
camels—and Gebhr beat me—and Stasch protected me—and we arrived in
Khartum—and there people died of hunger—and Stasch worked, so as to
get dates for me—and we were with the Mahdi—and Stasch would not
change his religion—and the Mahdi sent us to Fashoda—and then Stasch
killed a lion and all—and we lived in a large tree called “Cracow”—and
King was with us—and I had the fever—and Stasch cured me—and he
killed a wobo—and conquered the Samburus—and—papa, dear—he was
always very good to me——”

She also spoke of Kali, Mea, King, Saba, Linde and his mountain, and of
the kite sent up just previous to meeting the captain and the doctor.
Mr. Rawlison could with difficulty suppress his tears during this
chatter, pressed his child more closely to his heart; and Mr. Tarkowski
was so overcome with pride that he could not control himself, for even
from this childish talk it could readily be seen that had it not been
for the ability and energy of the boy the little one would have been
hopelessly lost, not only once, but many times.

Stasch gave an exact account of everything, and while telling of the
journey from Fashoda to the waterfall, a great load fell from his chest,
for when he told how he had shot Gebhr and his followers, he stopped and
looked uneasily at his father—but Mr. Tarkowski frowned, thought a
while, and then said gravely:

“Listen, Stasch! One ought never kill any one, but if any one threaten
your country, or the life of your mother or sister, or the life of a
woman placed in your care, then unquestionably shoot him, and without
any qualms of conscience—and never feel any remorse.”

                 *        *        *        *        *

On arriving at Port Said Mr. Rawlison and Nell went to England, where
they took up their residence. Stasch’s father sent him to a school in
Alexandria, for there his deeds and adventures were not so well known.
The children wrote to each other almost every day, but it so happened
that they did not see each other for ten years. After the boy had
completed his studies in Egypt he attended the Polytechnic School in
Zürich, and on receiving his diploma engaged in tunnel work in
Switzerland.

It was ten years later, when Mr. Tarkowski retired, that they both
visited their friends in England. Mr. Rawlison invited them to spend the
entire summer at his house near Hampton Court. Nell had passed her
eighteenth birthday, and had grown up a lovely girl, blooming like a
rose; and Stasch found, at the cost of his peace of mind, that a man of
twenty-four is not too young to think of the ladies. In fact, he thought
so continually of the beautiful and well-beloved Nell that he felt like
running off wherever his eyes would lead him and his feet would carry
him.

But one day Mr. Rawlison, laying both his hands on the young man’s
shoulders, looked into his eyes and said:

“Stasch, tell me. Is there any one in the world but you to whom I could
trust her so well?”

                 *        *        *        *        *

The young Tarkowski couple remained in England till the death of Mr.
Rawlison. A year later they started on a long journey. They had promised
themselves the pleasure of revisiting the places where they had spent
their childhood and had wandered as youngsters, so they first went to
Egypt. The kingdom of the Mahdi and Abdullah had long since
disintegrated, and after its ruin there came, as Captain Glen had said,
“England.” A railroad had been built from Cairo to Khartum. The places
which used to be overflowed by the Nile had been cleaned up, so that the
young couple were able to travel in a comfortable steamer not only as
far as Fashoda, but even to the large Victoria-Nyanza Lake. From the
town of Florence, which lay on the banks of this lake, they took the
train to Mombasa. Captain Glen and Dr. Clary had moved to Natal, but
under the good care of the English officials in Mombasa lived—King. The
giant immediately recognized his former masters, and he welcomed Nell
with such joyous trumpeting that the neighboring mangrove trees shook as
though before a wind. He also knew old Saba, who had lived to almost
twice the age allotted to dogs, and, though half blind now, accompanied
Stasch and Nell wherever they went.

Stasch also learned while there that Kali was doing well, that he ruled
under English protection over the whole territory south of Rudolf Lake,
and that he had invited missionaries to come into his land to preach
Christianity among the savage natives.

After completing this final long journey the young couple returned to
Europe, and taking Stasch’s father with them, they made their permanent
residence in Poland.

-----

Footnote 49:

Abdullah’s reign lasted ten years longer. The fatal stroke was given to
the Dervishes by Lord Kitchener, who, in a bloody battle, nearly
annihilated them, and razed the tomb of the Mahdi to the ground.

                 PRINTED BY BENZIGER BROTHERS, NEW YORK




                           TRANSCRIBER NOTES


Mis-spelled words and printer errors have been fixed.

Inconsistency in hyphenation has been retained.

Inconsistency in accents has been fixed.

Moved the illustrations to the associated text, and removed the page
number references from them.










End of Project Gutenberg's Through the Desert, by Henryk Sienkiewicz

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