by Lewis Hough
CHAPTER TWELVE.
ABDUL ACHMET.
A body of twenty Arab warriors mounted on camels was crossing thedesert, and as they rode in Indian file, and from ten to twenty pacesapart, the string was a long one. Probably they did not belong to atribe that had taken part in any of the numerous routs, assaults onstrong places, and massacres, which had supplied so large a portion ofthe Mahdi's troops with modern arms of precision, for those of them whocarried guns had those long-barrelled, short-stocked weapons, which arefamiliar to us in pictures, and which are so admirable from an artistic,and so worthless from the Wimbledonian, point of view. But the majoritycarried spears instead of guns, and they were all armed with swords andpistols.
Whatever the actual number of days and hours which elapse between thedates of an Arab's birth and death, his life seems a short one reckonedby sensations and incidents, for he spends so very large a proportion ofit in sitting on the hump of a camel as it toils across a country ofmaddening sameness. The distances he has to travel are so vast, and hismeans of progression so limited!
Perhaps that is the reason why, when he does come across an occasion ofexcitement, he is so terribly in earnest. He is months and monthswithout the chance of an emotion, accumulating explosive forces all thewhile; and when he at last goes off, he does it like dynamite.
And yet, perhaps, the child of the desert, if he visited our shores,might point to a ploughboy plodding up and down, with one foot in thefurrow, from dawn till dusk, and ask if _his_ task were lively. Or,still more forcibly, he might take us into an office in a dingy citystreet where copying clerks sat at their monotonous work, and put it tous how many minutes in the week we supposed _they_ lived.
But still, though it might be difficult to deny that he had reason onhis side, there is a certain dreariness about the endless sandy plainswhich renders it difficult to imagine it possible for a human being tospend his days in traversing them without going mad.
But these present travellers did not seem to mind it. Some of themsolaced themselves with the chibouque, as they sat with the comfortwhich can only be acquired after years of practice on the humps of theircamels; the others, though silent and quiescent, did not look bored.
Presently the one in front was attracted by an object a little out ofhis path, and turned to examine it more closely. Then he spoke to hishygeen, which knelt down, whereupon he dismounted, and went up to thefigure of a man lying on the sand. There had been a great deal offighting and carnage, beyond the ordinary blood-feuds between thedifferent tribes, going on for some months in the country, and thebodies of men were as commonly found as those of camels used to be. Soit may seem surprising that the Arab should have taken the trouble todismount for such a trifle.
But this body was dressed, and had weapons--was worth despoiling, infact. This particular child of the desert was not more greedy thanothers; he was a man in some authority, and rich according to his ownideas and those of his people. But still, one does not like to seearticles of value unappropriated, and one might as well have them as anyone else. Such sentiments might animate you or me, let alone agentleman who had been brought up to regard all human beings who did notbelong to his own particular set much as we look upon beavers, foxes,hares, grouse, pheasants, as creatures that are provided by Providencefor our sport or profit.
The body lay on its breast with the arms stretched out; the head alittle turned, so that the right cheek lay on the sand. And when theArab bent over it, it did not look, he thought, quite dead. Well, if hewere not, a man with such a good gun as that ought to be when a betterman wants it. But still, it has been shrewdly observed that there is adeal that is human about human nature. The Arab might not improbably bein the same position some day, and would he not then require aidhimself? And then the Koran enjoined true believers to succour thedistressed who fell fainting in the desert; and this was an educatedman, who read his Koran; and a religious man, according to his lights,who obeyed its precepts when he happened to remember them, andtemptation to the contrary was not too strong. If he had known that theproperty before him belonged to a pig who did not believe the Prophet,it might have been different; but he could not tell that, and he turnedHarry Forsyth over to give him a drink of water.
As he did so he saw the ring on his finger, and his humane intentionvacillated. He had a fancy for a ring like that. Never mind; he wouldcompromise matters, he thought--take the ring, rifle, and cartridgesfirst, and give him a drink afterwards. But when he took the hand forthe purpose of drawing the ring off it, and saw the stone close, hestarted back with the exclamation, "Allah is great!" and let the handdrop.
"He bears the signet!" he said to his followers; "and he lives. We mustnot leave him. We must take him on to El Obeid."
"The Fakir's Oasis is close at hand," said another; "let us bear himthere. The holy man will know best what to do with him, and the shorterthe journey the better for his life."
"You speak the words of wisdom, Meouf," said the leader; "let us lifthim on to your camel; it has the easiest pace."
A cynic might imagine that Meouf knew this, and that his claims to beinga good Samaritan were affected by the fact that he would have thetrouble of carrying the helpless man, and his wish to do so for as shorta distance as possible. But we won't be cynics, and we'll give him allthe credit for his forethought which we can.
The Fakir's Oasis was less than an hour's ride off for a good camel.Harry, when some water was poured down his throat, showed decided signsof life, though not regaining consciousness. He was lifted on thecamel, and carried forward, his property being scrupulously respectedwith one exception. The leader of the party considered that, as he wasan invalid, and therefore, for the time being, a non-combatant, he couldhave no immediate use for a Remington rifle, or the cartridges belongingto it, and these he therefore made free to borrow for an indefiniteperiod. It was a small fee for him to pay, after all, for his life.
The oasis they were taking him to was one not known to Europeantravellers, and indeed but few native merchants were aware of itsexistence, for it was out of the usual caravan routes to El Obeid, fromwhich place it was not more than two hours' journey distant. It was alittle patch of fertility in the midst of a plain of undulating sand,and appeared a hundred-fold more luxuriant from the contrast. There wasactual herbage on which some goats were feeding; a small patch was evenunder cultivation, and corn grown there. Fine acacias lent a gratefulshade, but not equal to that afforded by a splendid fig-tree whichoverhung a deep cool well.
The oasis received its name from its having long been the residence of afakir who was accounted a sort of prophet, and commanded greatreverence. His successor, Abdul Achmet, who now lived there, was alsoin high esteem among the followers of the Mahdi, to whose cause he hadgiven his adherence.
There were three houses, all inhabited by priests or dervishes, of whomAbdul was the chief, and a small mosque, all built of sun-dried bricks,which, retaining the look of clay, are habitually termed by Europeantravellers _mud_. But this gives rather a false impression, as a mudhut properly consists of wattles with mud plastered all over them, whichis a different thing from one regularly built, though the bricks aresun-dried instead of being baked in a kiln. What is the use of having atropical sun if you do not make it do some fire-work for you beyondnearly roasting you to death?
Abdul Achmet received the party, several of whom he knew, under theshade of his fig-tree. Harry Forsyth was carefully handed down from thecamel and laid before the dervish, and the signet-ring was shown to him.Whereupon he said that it was quite right to bring him on to him, andthat he would take care of him; and he had him carried into his houseand attended to.
The travellers watered themselves and their camels, and were thentreated to dates, pipes, and coffee. They rested thus in the oasis, andbenefited, it is to be hoped, by the companionship of their clericalentertainers, till the hottest part of the day was passed, and then,once more mounting their camels, went on their way to El Obeid--an easy
march for the evening.
Days passed before Harry Forsyth was conscious of anything; then forweeks he had no sense of life but pain and weariness, with intervals ofblissful rest. He had no doctor but the first lady who ever practised--Dame Nature, who sometimes, strange to say, pulls her patients throughalmost as well as if she had a diploma. But he was well nursed, andthere is a great deal in that.
At length there came a time when he knew that people moved about andtalked, and that he took food and was very weak; but he did not knowwhere he was, nor cared. He had visions, and half knew they werevisions; sometimes these were rather pleasant but more often very muchthe other way. What was the matter with him? As no medical mandiagnosed his case, it is impossible to say, though that he was for sometime in a high state of fever we may safely assume. He had gone througha good deal, and had had a cut through the scalp of his head right downto the skull. At last he woke one day after a long sleep and recognisedhis nurse, whom he took to be a demon--a very nice, amiable one, withgleaming white teeth, who grinned from ear to ear with pleasure to seehim better.
At last it dawned upon him that it was absurd to suppose an evil spiritwould sit there fanning the flies away, or would put cooling drinks tohis lips; and he jumped abruptly to the opposite conclusion, that therewere such things as black angels, and this was one of them. Thoughperhaps nearer the mark, he was not quite right yet, for his kind andcareful nurse was but a negress--a slave from the interior. Black,white, or brown, women are always more patient and tender when anythingis really the matter than men, bless them!
It was rather a shame to have called her Fatima, because that leads oneto expect rather prettier lips and a fairer complexion; not that thisincongruity ever struck Harry, even when he came to know it, which wasnot for some time yet. For by that time he had come to associate hisnurse's homely features with all that was pleasant and solacing.
He did not know where he was, nor had he any clear perception of pastevents. He had been very uncomfortable, and there was a dim impressionupon his mind of past misfortunes, but he had no care or curiosity withregard to past or future; he was at ease for the present, and that wasall that he felt signified.
One day when he opened his eyes after a doze, expecting to see Fatima,he found in her usual place a tall man, with a long white beard, andshaggy white eyebrows, which contrasted curiously with his dark skin,giving him something of an unearthly appearance.
"Oh, long-expected one," he said, when he saw that Harry noticed him,"to whom Allah hath at length restored some degree of understanding,know that you are welcome and among friends. This writing found uponyou tells me that you are he of whom the Sheikh Burrachee has oftenspoken, the Feringhee destined to bring his benighted and hithertoaccursed race to the acceptance of the true faith. The sheikh is beyondOm Delgal, far away up the Bahr el Abiad, amongst the heathen whom theAll-bountiful One has given to the True Believer for bondsmen. But hewill return when the Mahdi--his name be revered--shall need hisservices. Then shall you join him with renewed health and strength. Inthe meantime, I, a humble servant of Allah and his Prophet, and onewhose eyes have been opened to the divine mission of the Mahdi, whichthe Turks--may their tongues swell--are slow to receive, even I willexpound to you the mysteries of the only True Faith, and from this dayforth consider my house, and what poor goods I may possess, as yourown."
Harry Forsyth quite followed this speech, and knew that the SheikhBurrachee alluded to was a relative whom he had seen at some time, andwas to rejoin. For anything recalled to him by words he remembered atthe time, though it passed from his brain the moment afterwards, neitherpleasing him nor distressing him. His mind was like a lake, and ideassuggested in any way resembled clouds passing rapidly above it,reflected for a minute on the surface, and then gone. It was rather acurious thing that what Arabic he had picked up had not passed from him;on the contrary, it sounded more familiar to him than it had donebefore. Probably that was because of his surroundings at the time ofrecovering consciousness, and of Arabic being the first sound which fellon his ears.
He replied coherently enough to his fakir host, though his voice wasvery feeble. He thanked him for his present hospitality, and for thecare he had taken of him during his illness, and he expressed thepleasure it would give him to see the Sheikh Burrachee when he came backfrom the Equator.
And then Fatima brought him food, which he turned to like a baby to itsbottle.
From that day Abdul Achmet paid him constant and long visits, readinglong passages from the Koran, and expounding to him that, as Mahomet hadbeen sent to convert idolaters, and had accomplished his task, so nowthe Mahdi had been appointed to teach the truth to Europeans and othercivilised races. The means to be employed were the same in both cases,and were simple, consisting merely of the extermination of all who wouldnot be convinced.
"The great and indeed only object is the overthrow of infidelity," heexplained; "and if all infidels are killed there will no longer be sucha thing."
"QED," replied Harry Forsyth, in a tone of assent which pleased thefakir mightily.
"QED" was not intelligible to him, but it sounded very well indeed, hethought.
Sometimes Harry listened to these long tirades, and sometimes he didnot, the latter reception of them being very much more frequent than theformer. But he looked politely attentive, and that was sufficient. Hewas the best listener when Abdul Achmet entered into personal detailsconcerning his heroes, in which he occasionally indulged; as when hetold how the Mahdi was brought up as a carpenter at Dongola; how hefirst came to know of his mission; of the holy men who had taken up hiscause; and of his residence and education amongst them. And then hedescribed his miraculous success, and what a boon even in the presentlife the spread of his authority would be. In proof of which herecounted the extortions and cruelties of the Turks, and how thetaxation of the Soudanese was so excessive as to ruin the countryitself, while the bribes exacted by the officials who were appointed torule the country made it impossible to obtain justice. He also waxedvery indignant over the unnatural folly and wickedness of those Powerswho sought to interfere with the slave trade, which he looked upon as aperquisite provided by Providence for the Arab race. Indeed the fakirshowed himself to be a man of some thought and shrewdness, and somepeople to hear him speak might have fancied that secular interests, suchas improving their condition in life by throwing off a burdensome yoke,and maintaining the considerable profits which they derived fromimposing such yokes on other people, who happened to be black and tohave thick lips, and woolly hair, had something to do with the aptitudeshown by the Soudanese to accept the new religion. But Abdul Achmet wasan honest fanatic, and neither intended to insinuate this nor thoughtit.
On the whole, Harry much preferred to hear his black nurse Fatima talk.She told him about her childhood, when she remembered playing aboutamong trees and in long grass with other little darkies; and theirfright when they heard the lions roar; and how once, when she hadwandered away alone, she saw two fiery eyes glaring at her from a bush,and ran home, expecting to be pounced upon and eaten all the way. Andshe described her parents' hut, with a low entrance, into which thefamily had to crawl on their hands and knees. Then, while she was stillquite little, her tribe declared war against another tribe, and all theyoung men went out to battle, and were defeated, and fled back to theirvillage to make a last stand in defence of their wives and children.And she described a night attack, and the horrors of a massacre, theburning of the huts, and the carrying off of the younger women, theyouths, and children; how they were sold to Arab merchants, andunderwent a fearful desert march; and how she cried for her mother atfirst, but was bought by a man who treated her kindly, and was happy,and forgot her native language and habits. All this she told in asimple, artless way, and when she found that it amused her invalid sherepeated it again and again. But his interest did not flag for therepetition. He was like a little child who has a favourite story, andcries, "Again!" when told it, preferring it to risking a new
one, whichmight not prove so good.
And time flew by, and Harry Forsyth remained in this state of semi-imbecility, free from anxiety about his mother and sister at home,forgetful of all but his animal comforts and the superficial interest hefelt in such prattle as this. His bodily health improved before hismental activity; perhaps it was owing to the freedom from worryconsequent upon this lethargic state of mind that he was able to pick upsome strength.
But he became able to move about and help himself, and wander out to thefig-tree over the well, which the delighted Fatima thought extremelyclever of him.
One day, as he sat in his favourite spot, thinking of nothing inparticular, a body of horsemen rode up to the oasis, and the leader ofit dismounting came up to him, and held out his hand English fashion,though he spoke in Arabic.
"Harry," he said, using the English accent for the name, however, "youremember me?"
Harry looked at him in a troubled way, and pressed his hand on hisforehead.
"I told you that you would come to me, for the inward voice, which nevererrs, declared it to me," he went on. "Struggle as you might, you couldnot avert your destiny. Our family is called to do a great work. Ihave commenced it, and it will be yours to complete it. I am growingold, but I can still strike a blow for the cause. May Allah grant me todie when my right arm is powerless: to die on the field of battle, inthe moment of victory, with my face to the foe! Yes, you are clearlydestined to lead the hosts of Islam. Have you not come out to me alone,leaving home and friends? Have you not traversed the desert withoutguide, still alone; and though struck down by an unknown hand, have wenot met? Have you not miraculously learned the language of the countryto which destiny called you? Were you not brought when found, to allappearance dead, to the fakir, Abdul Achmet, the one man of all others Iwould have directed you to? And the blind fools of Europe would callthis chance, as they do everything which they cannot attribute to theirown forethought or cunning."
"Yes, I know you," said Harry, at length; "you are my uncle Ralph, theSheikh Burrachee. But I think I have been ill, and everything is like adream to me. Were there not a signet-ring, and a paper in a silvercase, and jewels of value which you gave me?"
At that instant Abdul Achmet came out of the mosque, and the SheikhBurrachee advanced to meet him, leaving Harry more bewildered anddisturbed in mind than he had been since he was brought to the oasis;and that night he had a relapse of fever. It did not prove serious,however, and when it passed away his mind was clearer than before,though he still seemed like one in a dream, and the past events of hislife appeared to him as having happened to some one else.
On the morning after his arrival the Sheikh Burrachee left, but someweeks afterwards he returned with an escort and an easy-paced hygeen totake Harry away with him. He took the announcement of the journey withthe placid indifference which now characterised him, only at the momentof starting he showed reluctance to part from his black nurse, Fatima.But whether the sheikh bought her, or only borrowed her, it was arrangedthat she should go too, and Harry was perfectly reconciled. Thehygeen's motions were wonderfully smooth for a camel, and the journeywas made easy to him; but still it was trying in his weak state andafter so long a confinement.
But it did not last long, and then they reached a town of flat-roofedhouses, and entered a spacious courtyard with a portico round it,through which were the living-rooms. There were soldiers here and thereunder this portico, some of them wearing the turban, but the majorityhaving a skull-cap of blue and white on their heads, and a sentry overthe gate had one of them too. Those who wore the bernouse, and most ofthem did, had similar blue and white patches sewn on different parts ofit. These were the Mahdi's colours; I don't know why, for he was nevera Third Trinity man, and had no right to their blazer. Like hisimpudence! It is true that the colours were generally in dice, notregularly striped. Some of the soldiers did not show the colours, butthat was because they had nothing to put them on unless they paintedtheir bodies. Passing through a large room with a divan round it, andpushing aside a curtain at the farther end, you came upon another andsmaller court, which was a garden with a fountain in the middle, wellfilled with date and other palms. There was a portico round this too,and this was destined to be the place where Harry Forsyth was to passthe greater part of his life for some time, for it was the dwelling orprivate part of his uncle's establishment.
Crazy renegade as he was, the Sheikh Burrachee had some old ideas ofcomfort which the wild life he had led had not dissipated, and being arich man for the country where he was and the people he had adopted, hecould indulge any little fancies he had; and he had made his house bothhandsome and comfortable.
According to the simple ideas of the natives, indeed, he was possessedof enormous wealth, and this reputation went some way towards thesuperstitious regard in which he was held. This was the place whichHarry now entered, and reposing on a divan, low, with soft cushions onit, and close to the portico, he looked upon the green leaves andlistened to the trickle of the fountain, while Fatima brought him aglass of delicious lemonade, squeezed from the fresh-plucked fruit; andthe fatigues of the journey were forgotten, and he fell into a long andrefreshing sleep. His curiosity, however, had not been one whitaroused; he took everything as a matter of course. Perhaps he was acharacter in the "Arabian Nights," and not Harry Forsyth at all--whocould tell?--all seemed so strange and unreal.
