The G.A. Henty

by G. A. Henty

  “Let there be no more said on this. I know, my friend, that you are not afraid of danger, and that your counsel is not prompted by any thought of personal fear. I acknowledge that all you say may come to pass, but my mind is made up. Thousands of Arabs will fight there, and I shall not draw back. Sidi will, of course, fight by my side, but it is not your quarrel, and there is no reason why you should risk your life in a struggle that you believe to be hopeless.”

  “Assuredly, chief, I shall ride with you. You have treated me as one of your tribe, and I have come to regard myself as such. Sidi is as my brother, and were there no other reason, I would ride to battle by his side. Moreover, this is as much my business as yours. My country is at war with France, and if at present Egypt is invaded by them, it is not because France desires to capture Egypt, but because by their occupation of the country they hope to strike a blow at England.”

  “It is well!” the chief said. “I think not that either you or Sidi will fall. Allah sent you to his aid when he was in danger, and he would hardly have done so had it been his will that you should both perish so shortly afterwards; but we are all in His hands, and shall die when our time comes, and not before.”

  Then, as if dismissing the subject, he asked Sidi what had happened in the town, and whether they had been questioned by any as to their business.

  “The principal thing, father, that has happened to us is, that we again met the two men who attacked me at Alexandria, and were beaten and turned out of the city, and as it happened then, I should have lost my life had it not been for my brother.”

  “Tell me about it,” the sheik said, his face hardening and his fingers playing with the hilt of the long knife in his sash.

  Sidi related the whole adventure.

  The sheik stood stroking his beard gravely as Sidi spoke. His eyes turned from his son to Edgar.

  “Bishmillah!” he exclaimed, when the story was finished, “Allah must have sent you to be Sidi’s protector. Without doubt, he would have lost his life had he been alone. Truly it is a wonderful thing this English science that you possess, and that enables you, though but a lad, to knock down strong men, and although unused to a knife, to slay ruffians accustomed to it from their childhood, with their own weapons. More than ever am I beholden to you, Edgar. Twice have you saved my son’s life. Had you been alone, these men would not have recognized you, and it was but because he was attacked that, as on the last occasion, you joined in the fray. Show me, I beg you, how you slew this man.”

  “It was simple, sheik. Had I fought him in his own fashion he would, I have no doubt, have killed me. But my method was as new to him as his would have been to me. Will you draw your dagger and advance at me as if going to strike? Now, if I have my knife in my right hand also, you know what to do; you would try to grasp my wrist with your left hand. I should try to grasp yours in the same way. We should struggle, but with your superior strength you would soon wrench your right hand free, and strike me down. Now, you see, I take my closed knife in my left hand, pointing it straight towards you, with my left foot forward; that is the position in which we stand when we use our fists. You, like that Maltese, are puzzled, and stand, as he did, for a moment indecisive; that would have been fatal to you. As, you see, I leap forward, changing my advanced foot as I do so, catch your wrist, and pull your arm with a sudden jerk towards me, and at the same moment strike you under the arm with my left hand.”

  An exclamation of wonder broke from the Arabs standing round listening to the conversation, as with lightning speed Edgar repeated the manœuvre that had been fatal to the Maltese.

  “Bishmillah,” the chief ejaculated, “but it is wonderful! It is true I should have been a dead man had your blade been opened, and your movement was so rapid that I could not have avoided it.”

  “No, because you were not accustomed to it. Had you been an English boxer you would have leapt back as quickly as I leapt forward. I should have failed to grasp your wrist, and should in that case have leapt back again to my former position, for had I remained thus I should have been at your mercy. Had I succeeded in doing so before you struck me, we should have been as we began, and I should have tried some other trick. Certainly as long as I stood with my left arm extended and my knife pointed towards you, you could not have closed with me—for I am much quicker on my feet from the training that I have received—and I could have got back more quickly than your knife could fall, and even if the blades fell at the same moment you would but gash my shoulder, whereas I should pierce you at a vital point.

  “It is with this as with other matters. You have been trained from childhood to sit your horse. You can stoop over while you are galloping at full speed and pick up a stone from the sand. You can twirl your lance round your head and throw it into the air, and catch it as it descends while going at full speed. You can do things that no untrained Englishman could do. So is it with me. I have learned boxing from the best masters in England, I have practised daily for two years and a half, and I have gained a quickness that could not be imitated by one who has not had such teaching and practice.”

  “It is true,” the sheik said. “But it is not the less wonderful in our eyes that, though knowing the use of our weapons, we should be but as children in your hands when thus fighting on foot. I wonder no longer that you should so easily have conquered this man. What say you, my brothers?”

  An exclamation of assent broke from the Arabs, who, in spite of Edgar’s explanation, henceforth regarded him with an almost superstitious respect. As soon as the troop had arrived, Edgar had gone to see his horse, which, as well as that of Sidi, the sheik had brought with him. It had whinnied with pleasure as he came up to it, and he stood patting it for some time, and giving it some dates. He now went over to it again, and on his return asked the chief:

  “Were you thinking of riding that splendid horse of yours?”

  “Certainly I was,” he replied, in a tone of surprise.

  “I do not mean to take mine,” Edgar said, “and I think that it would be a great pity if you and Sidi were to ride yours. I can understand that, in a fight on the plains, it would be a great advantage to be so mounted, for either in pursuit or flight it would be invaluable, but in the narrow streets of Cairo it would be a sin to risk so splendid an animal, and the one I have been riding would be just as useful. We shall be fighting, not against cavalry, but against infantry and artillery, and it would be useless to ride a horse that would outstrip those of the rest of the band; while even if we won the day our satisfaction would be lessened indeed had one to mourn the loss of one’s friend.”

  “You are right,” the sheik said gravely. “Were I to lose Zeila it would be like the loss of a child; we love each other dearly. I had not thought of it before. It seemed to me a matter of course that if I rode in the battle she should carry me as she has done a score of times; but, as you say, this will not be like fighting in the desert, when man singles out man, and one’s life depends as much upon the intelligence and quickness of the horse as upon one’s skill with spear and scimitar. Two of my followers shall take our three horses back to our camp in the desert. You and Sidi are already mounted. One of the men shall give me his horse, and shall ride on Sidi’s; each will then have but one to lead. If my son and I are killed, the two horses will be valuable possessions to my wife.”

  Accordingly the saddle was shifted from the sheik’s horse to that of one of his followers, and the latter, with his comrade, was told to start for the oasis as soon as the rest of the party set out for Cairo.

  CHAPTER VI

  THE RISING IN CAIRO

  As soon as a meal had been eaten the Arabs mounted again, rode to a ferry two miles above the city, crossed there, and joined a large party of their countrymen, who were gathered at a short distance from the city. There was much excitement among them, for one of their number had just returned, bringing news that there was fighting in the town. Napoleon had gone in the morning to examine the ruins of Old Cairo. On hearing that there were a
rmed gatherings in various parts of the town, General Dupres started from the barracks of Birketelfi with a detachment of dragoons. On his approaching one of these gatherings fire was opened upon him. He and some of his dragoons were shot, and the rest galloped with the news to Junot, who was in command, and who at once sent to acquaint Bonaparte with what was taking place.

  The latter returned at once, found the first two gates at which he arrived in the hands of the insurgents, and making a detour, entered the town by that of Boulak, and, joining Junot, he ordered the whole of the troops to be concentrated in the great open space known as the Square of El-Esbekieh, where were the headquarters and barracks occupied by a portion of the troops, and the houses in which the staff-officers, servants, and others lodged. Cannon were placed at the mouth of all the streets leading from it, and the troops were ordered to remain under arms all night. The Arabs had, soon after the sheik’s party joined them, entered the town by one of the gates that had been seized by the insurgents, and established themselves in one of the large open spaces near the walls. Parties galloped down into the town, and from time to time brought back news of what was being done.

  They reported that no attacks had been made on the troops, but that the whole town was in a state of insurrection; that the keepers of the French restaurants had been, for the most part, killed, and all their houses pillaged; and that the insurgents had gathered in great force in the cemetery, near the Square of El-Esbekieh. The sheik, with his followers and many of the other Arabs, rode down to this spot in readiness to take part in the attack that would, he supposed, be at once made on the French. Finding that nothing was done, the sheik rode to the Mosque of Gama El Ashar, where the leaders of the insurrection were gathered. He dismounted and went in. He found a tumultuous debate going on, a few being ready for instant attack, while the others urged the advisability of waiting until the next morning, when many more Arabs, and the inhabitants of Old Cairo and other places, would have joined them.

  The sheik at once took part in the debate, and urged strongly that the attack should be made without an instant’s delay.

  “You are giving time for the Franks to prepare themselves,” he said. “You have already lost the advantage of surprise. After the first shot was fired there should not have been a moment of delay; but no shot should have been fired until you had given us notice. Then together we should have flung ourselves upon them when they were confused and dismayed, and had no time to form plans or to gather themselves in one place. You have already lost that advantage, but do not give them any longer time. You may be sure that already swift horsemen have been sent to order the divisions that have just marched to return at once, and by to-morrow evening they may be here.”

  “You have spoken truly,” one of the leaders said, “that no shot should have been fired until all was in readiness, and that we should then have attacked at once with all our force. But the impatience of individuals has destroyed our plans. The evil has already been done; the Franks are gathered together. They can receive no reinforcements until to-morrow night, while in the morning we shall be joined by fully 10,000 men; therefore nothing would be gained, and much lost, by attacking to-day.”

  The majority of those present agreed with this opinion, and the sheik returned to the cemetery.

  “You were right,” he said to Edgar moodily. “To be successful, such a rising should have been prompt. They should have wasted no time in killing tradesmen and plundering their shops. They should have hurled themselves at once upon the troops and cut them to pieces before they had time to recover from their surprise. Had they acted thus they might have succeeded. Now they have allowed the whole of the French to gather, with their guns, and after what happened in the battle, I fear there can be little doubt of what will occur when we attack them; but this does not alter my determination to do my best towards gaining a victory.

  “Even if defeated the affair will not be without advantage. The Franks will begin to see that, easy as was their first victory, the Egyptians are not a flock of sheep to be maltreated and robbed without even venturing to murmur, and that they cannot afford to scatter their forces all over the country. Moreover, the news that Cairo is in insurrection will spread through the country and excite a feeling of resistance. Many will die, but their blood will not have been shed in vain. The French think that they have conquered Egypt—they have, in fact, but marched to the capital. They only hold the ground they stand on, and it will not be long before they feel that even that is trembling under their feet.”

  Some sheep that had been brought, slung across the horses, were cut up, fires lighted, and supper eaten, and when two men had been posted as sentinels, the rest wrapped themselves in their burnooses and lay down to sleep. Edgar’s reflections were not pleasant, and he sat up for some time talking to Sidi.

  “You think that we shall be beaten,” the latter said, after they had talked for some time. “There is no reason, brother, why you should take part in a fight that you think will end badly. Why should you not leave us, and go out of one of the gates in the morning?”

  “I cannot do that, Sidi. I have, of my own free-will, cast in my lot with your people. It is thanks to them that I have escaped a prison and perhaps death, and I cannot withdraw now because there is danger. To tell you the truth, I am more disgusted at the murder of all the unfortunate shopkeepers than thinking of any personal danger to-morrow. There is nothing brave or patriotic in slaying unarmed men, and the deeds done yesterday are rather those of street ruffians thirsting for plunder than of men trying to shake off subjection to foreigners. Such doings as these bring disgrace upon a cause.”

  This view of the case was new to Sidi. In the wars that the Arabs carried on with each other, or with the tribes of Morocco, there was no fine distinction between combatants and non-combatants: women as well as men were killed or carried off as slaves, and that there was anything wrong in this had never occurred to him.

  “But they are enemies,” he ventured to protest.

  “They were foreigners, but not enemies,” Edgar replied. “Many of them were settled here long before the French landed, and, like my father, lived peaceably among you. They are not in any way responsible for the action of the French government, or of Bonaparte and his army. Among civilized people, save that after the capture of a town by storm, the soldiers become maddened and behave sometimes like demons, the lives of peaceful people are never menaced. Soldiers fight against soldiers, and not against quiet traders or cultivators of the ground. To me all that has been done to-day is nothing short of a murderous butchery, and to-morrow I would much more willingly join in a charge on the rabble who have done these things than upon the French soldiers, who are for the most part honest fellows and have injured no one since they came into the town, though they may have looted houses which they found deserted by their inhabitants.

  “However, as my country is at war with them, and I have an opportunity of fighting them, I shall do so, but I would rather have done it with an Arab force alone out on the desert than in conjunction with these blood-stained ruffians. However, the matter is settled now, and at any rate it will be a satisfaction to fight by the side of yourself and your brave father, who sees as well as I do that defeat is almost certain.” So saying he lay down to sleep, but with sore forebodings of what was likely to take place the next day.

  When daylight broke it soon became evident that the insurgents had neither a leader nor fixed plans. Some were in favour of attacking at once, while others urged that it would be better for the French to do so. The argument was, that whereas at present the French were all assembled, ranged in order, and ready for an attack, they must be broken up as soon as they issued from the various streets leading into the square. The sheik, after talking the matter over with Edgar, rode with some of his followers to the spot where the leaders were discussing the matter.

  “There is much in what you say,” he exclaimed, when one of those who urged delay had spoken; “but if we are to await their attack let u
s prepare for it. All who have firearms should go on to the roofs of the houses of the streets through which they will march, and fire down into them as they pass along. Those who have other arms should take their places in the lanes, running out of them and break into the column as it comes along, while we Arabs will charge them in front.”

  Some strongly approved of this advice, others said that the question must be referred to the council at the mosque, and things remained as they were before.

  The French had made a move early. Soon after daybreak Captain Sulkouski, one of Napoleon’s aides-de-camp, started with two hundred cavalry to make a circuit of the town, and to reconnoitre the position of the insurgents. He rashly charged into the middle of a large party of Arabs, but was killed with many of his men. Two hours later scouts rushed into the cemetery, and announced that the French were in movement along the streets leading towards it, and almost immediately afterwards several batteries, which had been placed during the night on spots commanding the cemetery, opened fire.

  There was no hesitation now on the part of the insurgents; they rushed forward in confused masses to meet the enemy. As they did so the leading ranks of the columns opened, and cannon, which were being dragged along by the infantry, poured volleys of grape into the crowded mobs. Many of the Egyptians ran into the houses, and from there kept up a heavy fire. But pressing steadily forward, the French fought their way into the cemetery, and opening out, poured such heavy volleys into the Egyptians that these speedily ran up the streets leading from it, leaving numbers of dead behind. The Arabs had fallen back before the French entered the square, as the crowded tombstones rendered it impossible for them to act with any effect there, and the sheik’s party, with several others, took up their position at some distance up the principal street leading towards the mosque.