Chapter Fifteen.
Receiving the Enemy.
As Frank was about to raise the glass to his eye, the doctor, who was some little distance in advance, checked his camel for them to come up alongside, and pointed the while away to where in the distance about a dozen column-like clouds were spinning round as if upon pivots, while they advanced as if to cross their course.
“A sand-storm,” said the professor. “Not much, but unpleasant enough if it comes upon us. Hi! Ibrahim; will those pillars cross before we get near them?”
“I cannot say, Excellency,” replied the old man. “I fear not. It will be better to halt.”
The preparations for the storm were soon made, the camels crouching down with their necks fully outstretched, while their riders knelt down sheltered by the animals and their packs, and held their thin cotton robes ready to veil their faces should the storm come near.
It was a strange sight, the tall, pillar-like clouds sweeping along over the level sand like so many parts of a vast machine preparing warp and weft for spinning a garment to clothe the earth, and there were moments when the pillars were so regular in distance and motion that it seemed impossible not to believe that they were artificial.
All was still where the travellers stood and knelt, the sun pouring down upon them from a clear sky, and as the Sheikh kept scanning the approaching storm Frank watched him to try and read what he thought.
It was pretty plain, for the old man’s eyes brightened and he seemed to breathe more freely, since it was evident that if the whirlwind kept its course the dust pillars would pass across the track they were making half a mile away.
“But these storms change about so, Excellency,” said the Sheikh. “This may suddenly turn back or rush off right away from us. It will, I think, go onward towards the great river away to our left, and sweep across it. No!” he thundered out. “Be ready; it comes,” for suddenly a hot blast of air smote the party, fluttering their robes, and the whirling pillars, so distinct and clear a few minutes before, grew misty as if seen through a dense haze; for by one of its sudden changes the storm had swept round almost at right-angles, and the next minute the sky was obscured, the camels were groaning as they buried their heads in the loose sand, and the storm of hot, suffocating dust, borne on a mighty wind, was upon them, shrieking, tearing at everything loose, and buffeting its victims, who could hardly breathe, the dust choking every tiny crevice in the cotton cloth held over the face.
The roar and rush were horrible, the confusion of intellect strange and peculiar, and Frank, as he cowered down behind his camel with his forehead pressed against the saddle to keep his veil in its place, felt as if he were breathing the scorching air out of some open furnace door, while the choking, irritating sensation in the air-passages seemed as if it must soon terminate in death.
Doubtless that would have been their fate if the storm had lasted; but as quickly as it had come upon them it passed over, and in a few minutes the air about them was clear again, the sky blue, and the sun beating down, while the dust-cloud pillars were careering along, distinctly seen a quarter of a mile away.
“Yes,” said the Sheikh calmly, “they are terrible, these hot whirlwinds. Their Excellencies would be glad to bathe and clear their faces and hair from the thick dust, but there is no water save for drinking. We have never had a worse one than this, Excellency, in our travels.”
“Never,” said the professor, who knelt in the sand trying to clear his eyes from the impalpable brownish dust, “and I don’t want to meet another. This is one of the experiences of a desert journey, Frank. Why, lad, you are turned from black to brown.”
“And you the same, but from white,” replied Frank, smiling.
“I suppose so. It’s bad for the Hakim’s white robes, too. I say, Ibrahim, when shall we strike the river?”
“Not for many days, Excellency; but we shall halt at fountains among the rocks.”
Five days’ monotonous journeying across the sandy plains, and then five nights of travelling, with the days devoted to rest, had passed before the river was approached at a bend which brought it near the line of travel which the Sheikh had traced out for himself by the stars. The way had been marked by the bones of camels, and in two places other bones scattered here and there told their horrible tale of suffering or attack, one skull displaying a frightful fracture that was unmistakable; fountain after fountain had been reached, and refreshing halts had been made where the waters gushed from some patch of rocks, to fertilise a small extent around, supporting a few palms and prickly, stunted bushes of acacia-like growth, before they started away again into the sand; and in cases where the next water-hole was too far, one, two, or three camels bore away water-skins well filled, to carry the party over the next halting-place.
The necessity of keeping up the supply forced their guide to adopt a zigzag mode of progression, and to make his little caravan traverse nearly double the distance that would have been necessary could they have taken a bee-line towards the south. But experience had taught all travellers who journey by the desert, instead of by the great waterway with its vast cataracts, where the pressure of the earth forced the water springs to the surface, and naturally these were the goals for which all tired travellers made.
There were but few incidents during a fortnight’s travel, and more than once Frank’s heart sank as he pondered upon the little advance they had made; but as the professor said, they were two weeks nearer their journey’s end, and all was well.
But it was sadly monotonous. The morning and evening skies were glorious, but their beauties soon began to pale, while on the hot days the journeys were most exhausting, and the travellers welcomed the clear nights when the stars blazed on high, for these were the times the Sheikh selected for progressing.
“There is no fear then of going far astray,” he said; for he knew nothing of the use of the compass, and the adventurers had never thought of bringing such an aid.
In company with the doctor and professor such natural history objects as presented themselves were examined—lizards among the rocks, a few snakes, harmless, and the poison-bearing cobra; but away from the river, birds were rare, save those of prey, and as to animals they were heard more than seen. A gazelle or two, little and graceful, bounded across the track, but it was at night that the howling of the jackals and the long, hideous snarling of hyaenas taught the travellers that there were plenty of these loathsome creatures hungrily waiting for the weaklings of such caravans as crossed the sandy plains.
Twice over irregularities were pointed out by the Sheikh—places where the dead level was broken—as being the sites of former occupancy of that part of the country, the professor discoursing learnedly about the possibility of changes in the surface having taken place and rendered the country barren, while he talked eagerly of how interesting it would have been to encamp at such spots, gather together a score of the fellaheen with shovel and basket, and explore.
“But there could never have been cities there,” said the doctor.
“But there were,” replied the professor. “Egypt is not half explored as yet. Out yonder where we passed to-day the land lay lower, and there was the trace of a wady, one of those irregular valleys which doubtless ran towards the Nile. That was once filled with water, but the encroaching sand has filled up and covered everything. Ah, I should like nothing better than to begin digging there. It would not be long before I began to learn who the people were who formed that colony.”
At last, on the morning of the fifteenth day, when, after a longer night’s journey than usual, a halt was made, the faint dawn began to show that the face of the country had undergone a change. Sand there was in plenty, but it was diversified with patches of rocks, some of which were of great elevation, while where the camels began to increase their ordinary rate of speed, a ridge crossed their path, and as it grew lighter the travellers’ eyes were greeted by the relief of green bushes, patches of trees, and various traces of this being a place frequented by man.
As the sun rose, right across the east there were clouds, which seemed to be very different from those to which they were accustomed, and the reason was soon made plain by a remark from the Sheikh, who explained that the river ran from north to south, about a day’s journey eastward, and that if they continued their march a few miles in that direction they would soon come upon signs of cultivation, and a scattered village or two.
“And shall we go that way?” asked Frank.
“Only as far as the first village, where we can buy grain—corn, and dhurra. Then we strike away again into the desert, along whose borders we must keep. It is safer, and we are less likely to meet with wandering dervish bands. We only come near the river when it is necessary to refill the sacks and give the camels better feed than they can get near the water-holes and fountains.”
“I see,” said Frank, as he glanced at the professor. “To get to the neighbourhood of the Mahdi’s people quickly we must go slowly.”
“Yes, Excellency, it is better so. We stay here two days while three of the young men and three camels go out to buy corn in the villages yonder. There is generally food to be purchased there, for the Nile floods run out widely a little way beyond, and the Khalifa’s people have not reached so far as yet.”
“Is there not the ruin of a great temple somewhere in this direction?”
“And of a city too, Excellency—El Gaebor,” replied the Sheikh. “Few people have gone there, for it is half a day’s journey from the river bank. But his Excellency will not stay to visit it now?”
“No, Ibrahim; not now,” said the professor. “It is very tempting, but duty first. We must come and see the ruins after we have fetched my friend out of the new Mahdi’s grasp. Not before.”
“Yes, not before,” said the doctor quietly; for he spoke little on the way, passing long hours in a thoughtful silence, as if dreaming over the duties he had to perform, and acting always as if he felt that he really was the learned Hakim he assumed to be.
There was a great charm about the wild, rocky place they had reached, the first rays of the sun as it rose lighting up a most picturesque scene made glorious by that which was so rare. For at the foot of a perpendicular mass of grey, grand, sun-scorched rock, there was a pool of limpid water quite fifty yards across, and below it another into which the surplus ran, forming a place easily accessible for the camels and leaving the upper water unsullied for the use of man.
The tent was soon pitched and a fire made for the coffee and rough cakes that were soon in progress of being made, while after drinking heartily, the camels were left browsing quietly upon the abundant foliage of the low-growing bushes, their burdens being stacked against the rocks which formed the back of their little encampment.
“We ought to find some specimens here, Frank,” said the professor, at the end of an hour, as they sat dallying over the last drops of their coffee.
“Yes; the place looks delightful after the bare sand,” replied Frank. “I am ready. Shall we have a wander round at once?”
“By all means,” said the professor. “We’ll take the guns. By the way, do you keep that revolver of yours loaded?”
“Oh, no,” said Frank.
“But you carry it under your jacket.”
“Yes, I do as you suggested that I should. But I thought we were to trust to cunning and not to force?”
“Of course; but the fact that we are getting nearer to human beings sets me thinking that there’s no harm in being prepared. Load up. You have cartridges in your pocket?”
“No,” said Frank, smiling. “What should a black slave be doing with cartridges?”
“Be ready to stand upon his defence in a case of emergency. Here, take some of mine and fill the chambers.”
As he spoke the professor handed six of the little central-fire cartridges, while Frank drew the small revolver he carried out of a pocket within the breast of his cotton jacket, and began to thrust them in.
“Going shooting?” said the doctor, looking up.
“Yes,” said the professor; “we may get a few birds worth eating, as there is water and growth here.”
“Better lie down and have a good rest,” said the doctor. “You both require it. We must be careful about our health.”
“Time for that too,” said the professor. “We have to stay till the men have been and fetched the grain, and they must have a good rest afterward.”
Just at that moment one of the Sheikh’s men, who had been to fetch a couple of camels which had strayed farther from the camp than seemed necessary, came hurriedly, driving them before him, to leave them with their fellows, and turn towards the Sheikh, making signs.
“What does that mean?” said the doctor, springing up. “Is something wrong?”
The others followed the doctor’s act the next moment, for some communication, evidently of great importance, was made to the Sheikh by his follower, with the result that the old man came quickly to where they stood, while all the men went quietly to their camels.
“What is it, Ibrahim?” cried the professor.
“A strong party of the Baggara are coming to the fountain, Excellency. The Hakim must take his seat at the door of the tent. Put away those guns and be in attendance upon him, as we have arranged. Ben Eddin, be waiting upon the Hakim with his pipe. Be calm, everyone, and show no appearance of trouble at their coming. You must leave all to me.”
Chapter Sixteen.
A Bad Wound.
Those were startling minutes, and though the incident was nothing more than had been anticipated as one of possibly many, it had taken them by surprise, being long before it was expected.
It was hard work too, for everyone was startled; but the advancing enemy were hidden somewhere beyond the piled-up rocks, and with what, under the circumstances, was marvellous rapidity, the Hakim, berobed and turbaned, seated himself in Eastern fashion upon one of the rugs laid for him at the tent door, while Frank brought him his long pipe, filled it, and was ready with a light. Then the professor and Sam began to put together the breakfast things, Ibrahim stood respectfully by as if awaiting the wise man’s orders, and the Sheikh’s followers stood about, feeding and watering the camels.
It was a picturesque group, but ready none too soon, for hardly were they prepared before the head of a mounted party of fierce-looking armed men rode into sight, and pulled up short in surprise, while their numbers were quadrupled before an effort was made to advance.
Then, with fully a hundred in sight, a shout was uttered and with a rush they galloped up, spear and sword in hand, to form a semicircle about the halting party, shutting them in from all chance of escape, and then seemed about to charge home, but they were checked by another shout and reins were drawn, the fiery horses they rode champing their cruel bits and tossing the foam in all directions.
It was a critical minute, and the slightest display of resistance would have meant indiscriminate slaughter, its hopelessness being shown by the rapid increase of the savage force, more and more riding into sight till fully two hundred were making for the water pools.
But no one stirred save Frank, who calmly held the glowing piece of fuel to the Hakim’s pipe, while the latter sat unmoved, calm, and grand of aspect, slowly inhaling and exhaling the fragrant smoke and gazing at the warlike crowd which surrounded his little tent.
By this time horse, foot, and camel men, the whole party, had pressed close up to the advance, and a burst of eager talking arose, the aspect of the savage warriors indicating that they believed they had come suddenly upon a prize. But they were evidently under the strong hand of some form of discipline, for they waited while a couple of fierce-looking leaders, whose shaggy black hair stood straight up and outward like some kind of cap, pressed the sides of their horses and walked them forward, to be met by Ibrahim, who advanced with great dignity, and in response to a fierce question as to who and what they were, saluted them gravely and announced that they were in the presence of a great Frankish Hakim travelling through the land upon his great mission to heal the sick and wounded.
To this, the younger of the two burst into a mocking laugh and said something to his fellow leader, who responded by laying a hand upon his companion’s rein as he spoke haughtily in his own tongue to Ibrahim, his words having a threatening sound.
The Sheikh’s voice sounded as haughty and as firm, and he waved his hand around, while to Frank it seemed that the old man was repelling some accusation and saying—
“If we were enemies to you and yours should we come unarmed and in peace like this?” Then his voice grew sterner and his eyes flashed, as, uncomprehended by those for whom he was spokesman, he cried—
“Retire your men ere you disturb the great Hakim’s repose. Has he not journeyed through the night on his way to the south to heal and cure, and as you see, he is resting before he takes his sleep. Beware how you anger him, for as he can heal so can he bring down upon all the disease and death he has removed from others.”
The younger man made a scornful gesture, but his elder was evidently impressed, and Ibrahim continued—
“You have come for water for your horses and camels; take it silently, and leave the great Hakim in peace. Anger him not, lest at a word and a wave of the hand he turn the sweet water into bitterness that shall wither all who drink. Horse, camel, or man shall perish if he speak the word.”
The Sheikh’s words were heard and understood by many; and a low, angry murmur arose, which ran right to the rear.
“Is it peace?” said the Sheikh calmly, as he noted the impression he had made; “if so the pool of water is sweet for all; and if you have sick or wounded men among you, bring them to the Hakim that he may make them whole.”
They were veritable words of wisdom that Ibrahim boldly spoke, and full of force, for though it was extremely doubtful whether, in case of an inimical display, the doctor would have either been able or willing to make use of his power, he had with him that which would, if deftly distributed, have poisoned the water so that it would have been dangerous to man or beast.
They were words of wisdom, though, for they went direct to the understanding and interests of the superstitious tribe, whose readiness to believe in any so-called prophet or learned doctor was easily awakened, while as it happened, Ibrahim’s last command had gone home to its mark at once.
For by a fortunate accident, the chief who seemed of the greater importance, turned sharply to his companion and handed to him the shield and two leaf-bladed spears he carried, and then threw himself from the beautiful Arab horse he rode, giving the bridle to one of his followers.
And now for the first time it was evident that his left arm, which had been covered by the shield, was injured, for it was supported by a broad scarf passed round his neck.
He strode forward haughtily, taking his steps slowly with head thrown back, and as Frank gazed at him with heart throbbing painfully and heavily under the stress of his emotion, he could not help thinking how noble and fierce a warrior the Baggara looked, with his simple white robe, and how dangerous an enemy with the curved dagger in his girdle, and long, keen, crusader-like sword hanging from a kind of baldric from his right shoulder.
As he approached Morris, Frank turned his eyes for a moment upon his brother’s friend, and a pang shot through him, for the doctor sat cross-legged holding the pipe, in his studied pose, slowly exhaling a little smoke, but his face looked fixed and strange, his eyes were half closed, and he seemed to be unconscious of all that was going on.
“He has lost his nerve!” thought Frank in agony, and he drew his breath hard. “What shall I do?”
The next glance, though, was at the Baggara chief, who in a contemptuous way snatched the sling from his left arm, and as if to display his scorn of wounds to his followers he lightly threw back the loose cotton sleeve of his robe to his shoulder, and held out the roughly bandaged arm before the seated surgeon, saying scoffingly in his own tongue—
“There, if you are a learned Hakim, cure that.”
There was utter silence now, and necks were craning forward and flashing eyes eagerly gazing all around, but to Frank’s horror, Morris did not pay the slightest heed, merely raised the amber mouth-piece of his pipe to his lips and inhaled more smoke, his eyes still half-closed, while he looked as if he were about to sink into a trance.
The words were on Frank’s lips to say quickly, “Pray, pray rouse yourself, or we are lost!” but he had presence of mind enough left to press his teeth firmly together and gaze fixedly at the Baggara, whose dark eyes flashed angrily as he stamped one foot and advanced a little more, to repeat his words. Still Morris did not stir, and it was only by the most determined effort that Frank kept himself from turning sharply to dart a look of horror at Landon and Sam.
But it was the thought of his brother that gave him the strength, and the next moment he breathed a sigh of relief, for the Sheikh stepped close up to the doctor, raising a hand warningly to the Baggara.
“The learned Hakim,” he said, “is deep in thought upon the wisdom with which he heals;” and then, bending towards the doctor’s ear, he said in a low, distinct voice, in English—
“A great chief is here, O learned one. He is wounded and in pain, and asks your aid.”
As Ibrahim spoke the doctor slowly raised his eyelids and gazed at the speaker, turning to him the while as if ignorant of the presence of the chief and the crowd around.
Then bending his head slowly as if in assent, he turned to gaze full in the Baggara’s scornful eyes, his face lighting up with keen intelligence, and continuing his fixed look till the chief made an angry gesture and for a moment lowered his eyes.
It was only for a moment, though, and then he looked fixedly at the doctor again, the scornful smile upon his lip growing more marked as he keenly watched all that was done.
“Splendid bit of acting,” said the professor to himself, as he stood with folded arms a little behind his friend’s left hand, and he too drew a breath of relief as with calm dignity Morris handed his pipe to Frank, whose black face glistened as he took it with a solemn bow and handed it to Sam with a sign that he should take it into the tent, noting how the man’s hand trembled, but avoiding his eyes, and turning sharply to the scene being enacted behind him.
As he turned, it was to see the Hakim raise his strong, white hands to spread his great dark beard over his chest, and then sign to the chief to kneel.
This was met by an angry look of resentment, and the younger chief uttered a sharp ejaculation, which was followed by a murmur behind him.
It was a critical moment, but the natural superstition in the Baggara proved too strong. He yielded to the powerful gaze which completely mastered his, and went slowly down on one knee, still holding out his injured arm.
As this was done the doctor threw back the sleeves of his robes, turned up his beautifully clean shirt-sleeves, and displayed his strong white arms. Then raising his hands he removed his jewelled turban and passed it to the professor, who was ready to take it in his hands, to hold it with reverent care.
Once more a low murmur ran round the crowd, as with increased curiosity they stared at the noble white head of the grand-looking man seated before them, while their curiosity was raised to the highest pitch.
The Hakim’s movements were rapid now; he took the chief’s swarthy hand in his, and his fingers were cool and soft to the burning skin he touched. Then raising his right he laid it upon the biceps, to find all tensely swollen and fevered.
The next minute he had taken a glittering little knife from the satchel he wore at his waist, and passed the keen point beneath the coarse cotton bandage, dividing it twice, so that the edges sprang apart, for the cloth was cutting deeply into the swollen flesh.
With deft fingers then he quickly unrolled the bandage, letting the foul, badly stained cotton fall upon the sand at his feet, laying bare to the sunlight a terrible cut running up from just above the wrist to the elbow joint, evidently caused by the thrust of one of the leaf-bladed spears, and now from long neglect horribly inflamed, and threatening danger, while the suffering it must have caused had doubtless been extreme.
The Hakim’s examination was quick, and as he ran his eyes over the wound and touched it here and there, he spoke without turning his head.
“Basin, sponges, plenty of water. Lint, bandages, dressings, antiseptics, and my instruments.”
Frank bowed, and hurried into the tent, while the Hakim supported the injured arm and raised his eyes to the Baggara chief, whose gaze was fixed upon him searchingly, and gave him a calm, reassuring smile, as if saying, “Wait, and you shall be cured.”
There was another low murmur now, and the crowd was pressing closer in, but Ibrahim’s lips parted as he raised his hands in protest, and at a harsh command from the second chief the men stood fast.
The next minute Frank came out, followed by Sam bearing the doctor’s surgical case and the necessaries he had ordered to be brought, every eye watching as these were opened out.
“Come and help, Landon,” said the doctor quickly, and the great turban was handed to Sam to bear into the tent, while the professor took up the brass basin and held it ready for Frank to fill, the latter then placing his hands ready to support the patient’s arm.
During the next quarter of an hour the Baggara looked curiously on while his festering wound was manipulated by the light touches of one of London’s most skilful surgeons, armed with the newest discoveries of science. And formidable as the task was, and severe the treatment, those firm white hands, and the cleansing, cooling applications gave more relief than pain, so that the stoical patient, when the touches from glittering knife and keen needle had ceased and given way to medicated cotton wool, lint, and tenderly applied supporting bandages, uttered a sigh of relief, and the scornful look of contempt gave way to one of perfect satisfaction, for to him this was a miracle indeed.
A few minutes later the scarf was retied from the shoulder so that the wounded arm rested comfortably and free from pain, the Baggara smiling at his leech as he rose, and in an instant a tremendous shout rent the air.
Chapter Seventeen.
The Surgeon’s Fee.
The Hakim’s patient was evidently a man of stern determination—of iron will; but he was only human after all, and he turned slowly to his brother chief, to lay his uninjured hand upon his shoulder to support himself, evidently making a brave effort to master the almost inevitable consequences of the long operation.
But Morris was watching him keenly, and quite prepared. A few words to Frank resulted in a small glass of water being placed in his hand in company with a bottle and graduated measure; a small quantity of a colourless fluid was transferred to the glass, and the Hakim rose and walked with dignified pace to where the two chiefs stood, the younger scowling fiercely now as he saw that his companion was beginning to totter upon his legs and swaying slightly as if to fall.
But the Hakim paid no heed to his fierce glances, and held the glass to his patient.
“Bibe,” he said, in a tone of command, using medical Latin in preference to English.
At the sound of his voice the Baggara, whose countenance had turned of a peculiar, muddy hue, revived and turned to him sharply, saw, and stretched out his hand eagerly for the glass, but shrank back directly with a look of suspicion.
The Hakim smiled, raised the glass to his lips, and looking frankly in his patient’s eyes drank about a third of the liquid slowly, and would have gone on, but the Baggara signed to him to desist, took the glass, and swallowed the remainder, to stand for a few minutes with his eyes half-closed and his hand clutching his brother chief’s arm desperately.
“Why doesn’t he make him lie down?” said the professor in a low tone to Frank, who was standing by his companion’s side as if waiting for the Hakim’s next command, but watching everything keenly the while.
“Afraid it would have a bad effect upon the people,” said Frank in the same low tone. “He has given him a dose of ammonia.”
“If he goes down, my lad, I’m afraid that it will be bad for us.”
“Afraid?” replied Frank. “We have made our plunge, and nothing must make us afraid.”
“That’s right,” said the professor; “but I wish that stuff would begin to act.”
“It is beginning to act,” said Frank. “Look!”
He was right, for the chief drew a deep breath, his muscles seemed to be growing more firm, and he stepped back from his companion, then signed for his shield to be handed to him, placed the loops over the bandaged arm, took his two spears, beckoned to the follower who held his horse, and stood for a minute or two making believe to pat its beautiful, arching neck and arrange its mane before placing a foot in the stirrup and springing into the saddle, when another shout arose from his followers, and Frank breathed more freely.
“That’s about as savage, bloodthirsty a brute as his younger companion,” said the professor softly; “but he’s a brave man.”
“Yes,” said Frank laconically, as he kept his eyes fixed nervously upon the chief. “Think he’ll be able to keep his seat?”
“I hope so.”
“So do I, for if he comes off with a thud I won’t give much for our lives. Hah! he has mastered it.”
“Yes, he has mastered it all,” said Frank. “He must have been horribly sick and faint.”
“And that ammonia is not a very exhilarating draught to take. I know the abomination pretty well. Soap and water is delicious in comparison, especially if it is scented.”
All this time the Hakim stood motionless, watching his patient gravely, and waiting for the result which soon came. For the peril had passed, the Baggara chief drawing himself up in his saddle, making his beautiful Arab charger rear up, and then letting him gallop for a hundred yards or so in full sight of his men, who began to shout frantically. Then pulling the horse down upon its haunches, he turned, galloped back, and checked the graceful creature again in front of the Hakim, to bend over and say a few words before rejoining his brother chief.
“What said he, Ibrahim?” asked the doctor in a whisper, without moving his head or seeming to speak.
“That the Hakim is a great prophet, and that it is peace. Excellency, they will not hurt us now.”
This was soon made evident, for the younger chief began to give orders, and the men dismounted and formed themselves into a camp about a hundred yards away from the Hakim’s tent. Then in fairly regular order the horses and camels were led up to the water, allowed to drink, and then led away, all being done so as not to interfere with Ibrahim’s train of camels, which were now pastured on the other side of the tent, to which the Hakim had returned, and where Frank, the professor, and Sam were busy replacing the various articles that had been brought out.
Here a little conference was held around the doctor, who had resumed his calm and thoughtful attitude, but who, beneath his solemn aspect, was as excited as the rest.
“Well, Frank, lad,” he said, “did it go satisfactorily?”
“Of course,” replied the young man; “how could it be otherwise. It was real.”
“Splendid,” said the professor. “Robert, old fellow, I was proud of you.”
“I don’t think you would have been, Fred, if you could have seen inside.”
“What do you mean—not nervous?”
“I was never worse in my life. I wonder I got through it as I did. You both noticed how my hands shook.”
“That I did not,” said Frank warmly. “You seemed to me as firm as a rock.”
“Appearances are very deceitful,” said the doctor with a quaint look. “Well, I did my best for him. He was in a terrible state.”
At that moment the Sheikh, who had been giving orders to his young men not to let the camels stray, rejoined them, and he gave the doctor a look full of reverence.
“It was a great, a noble cure, O Hakim,” he said. “That wound was dangerous, was it not?”
“He would have been delirious by this time to-morrow, Ibrahim,” said the doctor.
“Delirious?” said the Sheikh, hesitating. “Oh, yes, I know—mad.”
“And blood-poisoning would have set in. Without attention he would have been a dead man before a week had passed.”
“But now, O Hakim—now?”
“With care and attention to his wound he will soon recover.”
“Hah! It is good. His people would have slain us if he had fallen.”
“But what about now, Ibrahim?” said the professor. “He said it was peace, but will he keep his word and let us go?”
“Hah!” said the Sheikh quietly; “I think not yet. If their Excellencies look around without seeming to notice they will see that men have been placed in five places at a distance like sentries of the Khedival guard.”
“To keep a look out for the approach of enemies,” said Frank quickly. “Well, it is soldierly.”
“It might be to keep us from stealing away,” said the Sheikh drily.
“Yes, of course,” said the professor. “But look here, Ibrahim, who are these likely to be?”
“One of the wandering bands of the desert, Excellency, who rob and murder all they come across.”
“Pleasant neighbours!” said the doctor quietly.
“But are they likely to be connected with the Khalifa—the Mahdi, or any of that party?” said the professor.
“I think so, Excellency,” replied the Sheikh. “These people travel far and wide. Perhaps this is one of the Khalifa’s chiefs.”
“Well, then—listen, all of you,” said the professor. “If these sentries are to keep us in bounds we are prisoners, Ibrahim?”
“Yes, Excellency.”
“And we shall have to go where they go, for they will never stay here.”
“It is right, Excellencies.”
“And you think it possible that this may be one of the new Mahdi’s wandering bands?”
“Yes, Excellency; sent forth to see if the English and Egyptian forces are advancing, as well as to gather plunder.”
“Then by and by they will rejoin their leader far away yonder at Omdurman or Khartoum?”
“It is most likely, Excellency.”
“Then so long as they treat us decently it seems to me that nothing could have happened better,” continued the professor; “they will lead us exactly where we want to go, and see that no other party takes a fancy to our heads.”
“That is exactly what I thought, Excellency,” said the Sheikh; “but I was afraid to speak.”
“Why?” said the doctor sharply.
The old man shrugged his shoulders.
“Their Excellencies took me to be their guide, and placed themselves in my hands. They said, ‘We have faith in you and your young men, who will protect us.’”
“Yes,” said the doctor. “Go on.”
“Well, Excellency, I have failed.”
“How failed?” said the professor sharply.
“I have brought you into danger—into the hands of the enemy at once.”
“Then you feel that we are prisoners?” said the doctor sternly.
“I must be truthful with those who have trusted me, Excellency. I fear that these sons of evil will not let us go.”
“I’m afraid you are right, Ibrahim. No, I promised you, Frank, that I would not be afraid of anything now. I feel, then, that you are right. But look here, so long as they treat us well nothing could have happened better for us.”
“Nothing, Excellency, for at some time or another we shall be brought to the heads of the invading tribes.”
“And sooner or later if we tried we might escape.”
“Yes, Excellency.”
“Then where is the cause for fear?”
“I feared that their Excellencies would not look upon it like this,” said the Sheikh humbly. “I knew that they must find out before many hours that we were prisoners, and then I felt that they would turn and reproach me for what I had done.”
“When you know us better, Ibrahim,” said the doctor quietly, “you will find that we are not unreasonable. Then as I see it now, if—I say if these ruffians treat us well we are on the high road to the place we seek to reach.”
“Yes, O Hakim.”
“But on the other hand, as we have found out this morning, everything depends upon my treatment of my patients.”
“Yes, O Hakim, it is so,” replied the Sheikh sadly.
“Pleasant for a weak man,” said the doctor drily. “If I cure I am a prophet; if I fail—”
“You’ll be a Hakim without a head, old fellow,” said the professor. “Ergo, as Shakespeare says, you must not fail. It was rather a close shave, too, this morning—there, I wasn’t alluding to you, Sam,” he continued, turning to the man, who was looking ghastly, as he stood close by hearing every word. “There, pluck up, my lad; your master did cure this time. Well, Frank, you are silent. How do matters strike you?”
“It seems to me that we have thoroughly fallen upon our feet, and have nothing to mind.”
“So long as these people use us well,” said the doctor.
“Well, if they do not we have still our old plan to fall back upon. We must take to the camels and flee for our lives, even if we leave everything else behind.”
“And with our task undone, Landon,” said Frank bitterly.
“Who said anything about leaving our task undone? Nothing of the kind. It will only mean starting afresh, and from right up the country instead of from Cairo.”
“Well,” said the doctor, “as everything depends upon their treating us well, and I occupy so critical a position, I must do my best.”
“Which we know you will,” said the professor, “of course. But they are not likely to keep us long, are they, Ibrahim—only while their chiefs wound is bad?”
“It is impossible to say, Excellency. It is a dangerous position.”
“Then if we get a chance of leaving it we must seize it. They don’t seem very grateful or friendly even now.”
“Your Excellency is not quite right,” said the Sheikh gravely. “Behold!”
He pointed to four of the Baggara coming towards the tent, and all well laden. One bore a fine young kid, another half a dozen chickens in an open basket in one hand, while slung over his shoulder were a large bunch of bananas and a bunch of dates. The others bore each a large bag of meal.
These they set down at once at the Hakim’s feet, bowing solemnly and low the while, and went off without a word.
“Come, doctor,” said the professor merrily, as soon as the men were out of hearing, “you never had such a fee as that before!”
“And look at its value as a token of friendliness on our captors’ behalf!” cried Frank eagerly.
“It’s splendid!” said the professor. “All that payment in kind, far better than guineas out here, for medicine and attendance to one man.”
“If his Excellency looks yonder,” said the old Sheikh drily, “he will find that it is not for curing one wounded man. The great Hakim’s fame is spreading fast.”
“One, two, three, four—why, there must be over twenty patients coming, Bob!” cried the professor, looking quite aghast. “You’ve got to do your best now, old fellow, and no mistake. But they can’t be all chiefs.”
The professor was well within bounds in saying twenty, for coming slowly on, for the most part walking, but several on horse or camel, and in more than one case supported by companions, came the whole of the sick and injured of the tribe, the Hakim’s treatment of their chief having brought those who had suffered during their wandering raid in the desert; and the calmness for a few moments deserted the Hakim’s countenance.
But he was soon himself again, and ready for what he saw at a glance must be a long and heavy task—one that would call forth all his energies.
“It is fortunate that I am a surgeon, and not a doctor pure and simple,” he said quietly, “for these seem to be all injuries received in fight. Come, Frank, Landon, our work is waiting.”
“Yes,” said the professor. “You, Sam, look after the commissariat department.”
“The which, sir?” said the man, staring.
“Well, the provisions, and clear away—for action, eh, Frank?”
“Yes, and it’s fortunate that the Hakim has had his breakfast.”
Chapter Eighteen.
Stolen Food.
The Hakim, even if looked upon by the semi-savages of the desert as a prophet, was human enough to require a second meal before he had finished what to ordinary people would have been a loathsome task; but fortunately for suffering humanity the great profession of the surgeon becomes to him of such intense interest, and so full of grand problems in the fight against death, that he forgets the horrors and sees comparatively little of that which makes the unused turn half fainting away.
In this instance the Baggara chief and his followers had been for many weeks away from the main body of the invading tribes, fighting, plundering, destroying, and leaving devastation plainly marked in their locust-like track. But all this had not been accomplished without suffering and loss to the tribe. Many had perished from disease; others had been cut down in some onslaught. More had been sick or wounded and had recovered, but there was a numerous remnant of sufferers, active men who had once been strong, but now, weakened by suffering, retained just enough force to enable them to keep in their places, held up to a great extent by the cruel knowledge that if they failed ever so little more they would be left behind in a region where people, the wild beast, and Nature herself, were all combined against them. For the wounded man if found by the suffering villagers was remorselessly slaughtered; the beasts and birds soon spied out the weakling and followed him night and day till the morning when he was too much chilled by the cold night dews to rise again to tramp on in search of water or solid food; and then first one and then another rushed in from the sands, or stooped from above, to rend and tear, and soon enough all was over, and the carrion seekers had had their fill.
It was a knot of these—sick and wounded—that were led or tramped up to the front of the Hakim’s tent, and there paused or were set down, a dreadful row, horrible of aspect, bandaged, unkempt, vilely dirty, feeble, and hopeless. They made no complaint, sent up no appeal, but sat or lay there gazing at the handsome, polished gentleman seated blandly before them, the mark of all those pleading, imploring eyes, silently asking him to give them back their lost health and strength.
“Look at them,” said the doctor sadly; “one is bound to pity and to help, when hard, matter-of-fact self says, Why should they be helped—why should they be made strong again, to go on indulging in destruction and dealing death?”
“It’s our way of doing things,” said the professor.
“Yes, Heaven be praised!” replied the doctor. “No one would change it if he could.”
“But,” said Frank, “there is not a wounded or suffering man here who has not brought all his trouble upon himself. If he had given up the sword and spear and stayed in his own country to cultivate his own lands he would have been healthy and well.”
“Of course,” said the professor; “and therefore you would let the miserable wretches die out of the way?”
“Nothing of the kind,” cried Frank indignantly. “They are human beings, suffering terribly, and I would do all I could to help them.”
“Don’t get excited,” said the doctor smiling, “or you will have some of them noticing that you are not the Hakim’s dumb slave. Come, our work is waiting.”
It was, and they worked on hour after hour at the terrible task; but it was impossible not to see the impression the doctor made upon his savage-looking patients, who for the most part hesitated doubting and half resenting his acts; but in a few minutes to a man they resigned themselves to his influence, and when at last they crawled or were borne away by companions, there was not one who was not ready to sing the praises of the Hakim, not from being cured, but from the change wrought by a skilful surgeon upon neglected wounds, and the sensations of rest and relief afforded by a doctor who looked upon the ailments from which the patients suffered as the simplest forms of disease, caused by neglect, and treated them accordingly.
In the Baggara camp that night there was but one theme of conversation. It was not with regard to the plunder taken in the last village that had been sacked, and the great amount of corn that it was impossible to bring away, and consequently had to be destroyed, but of the wondrous holy man—this prophet—this inspired Hakim, whose touch to the fiery, throbbing wound was softer than that of a woman, and who caused a gentle sleep to fall upon him in whose flesh that ragged bullet lay deep, or in whom the broken spear-top was rankling and stabbing at every movement, while it refused to give way to the cutting and poulticing of their own wise men.
It was wonderful, the Baggara said, and they declared that they did not care whether he was a follower of the Prophet or of any other belief; all they knew was that he was inspired; otherwise how could he make men breathe against their will and then fall into that deep sleep, suffering pain before, and then waking up how long after who could tell, with the bullet taken away, the rankling spear-point no longer imbedded in the muscle, the fever gone, and instead a cool, soft bandage and a feeling of rest.
Oh, the Hakim was a great, an inspired prophet, they said; and had one told them that this inspiration was that of science and patient search to win a knowledge of the wonders of our great creation, they would have laughed him to scorn.
On the other hand, in the Hakim’s little camp of a couple of tents, there was the knowledge of some five-and-twenty men lying down to rest as they had not lain for many weary days, and that the chief was like another man, for he had been to the Hakim’s tent himself, to bend low to the man of wisdom, and tell him, through the lips of Ibrahim, that the calm that had come over his spirit was marvellous, and that the wound only throbbed now and ached, but in a way that he was man enough to bear.
At this the Hakim had looked grave, and bidden him recline upon the rug outside the tent door, taking the arm in hand once more and gently unfastening the bandages before bathing and applying a soothing antiseptic application upon fresh lint to the wound, and bandaging less tightly once again.
After this the savage warrior arose, to bend with more reverence than ever over the Hakim’s hand, bidding Ibrahim tell him that now he was at peace, and ask him if there was anything he needed for himself and followers.
It was after the chief had returned to his own rough tent that the discourse took a strange turn.
Naturally enough further gifts for the present had been declined on the ground that they had an ample supply of their own, to which he had made so thoughtful an addition. But now that the last sufferer had left the neighbourhood of the tent, and the Hakim and his aides had prepared themselves for their well-earned evening meal. Sam and one of the Sheikh’s young men had been busy over a fire, and there was ready for the Hakim’s repast one portion of the roasted kid, the other being handed over to the Sheikh’s party.
The cleverly cooked and browned meat sent forth an appetising odour, the evening was cool, and the sky of a delicious hue; and spread upon a cloth upon the level sand all was ready, including the newly baked cakes, with the additional luxury of fruit—rich, golden-yellow, buttery bananas such as are not known in Europe, and the cloying but wholesome honey-flavoured date.
All looked tempting, for the cool draughts of clear water from the spring and the restful bathe had taken away the weary sensation of nauseating distaste for food consequent upon the ordeal through which the doctor and his companions had passed.
But then just as the party had taken their seats, the professor, in a grimly malicious way, proceeded to spoil the feast.
“Such a shame,” he said solemnly; “that kid and the luscious fruit we are going to eat must have been plundered by these savage ruffians from some village. I don’t think we shall either of us have the heart to touch a bit.”
A blank silence seemed to fall upon the group, the Hakim thrusting away his knife, Frank, who half knelt behind him, as a slave should, waiting for such morsels as the Hakim might condescend to pass, darted a fierce look at the speaker, and the Sheikh, who shared their table now and was in the act of behaving, in spite of his intercourse with Europeans, in a very ungentlemanly way—for he was trying the edge of his knife—dropped it as if he had cut his thumb, and stared as angrily as Frank.
“But, Landon, old friend,” said the Hakim at last, “I am hungry! Surely it is not our fault that the food was stolen—if it was.”
“No, but we should be encouraging the Baggara to go on plundering if we ate these things.”
“Do you think so really?” said the doctor; and then a change came over the professor’s face which made Morris shake his head and attack the much needed food at once.