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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:

      “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.

      “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

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