“You will ride now,” he said, “alongside of the dense floating masses in the White Nile or the so-called ‘sudds’. The river, not being able to flow freely across the barriers composed of vegetation and weeds which the current of the water carries and deposits in the more shallow places, forms there extensive and infectious swamps, amid which the fever does not spare even the negroes. Beware particularly of sleeping on the bare ground without a fire.”
“We already wish to die,” answered Stas, almost with a moan.
At this the missionary raised his haggard face and for a while prayed; after which he made the sign of the cross over the boy and said:
“Trust in God. You did not deny Him; so His mercy and care will be over you.”
Stas tried not only to beg, but to work. A certain day, seeing a crowd of men laboring at the place of prayer, he joined them, and began to carry clay for the palisade with which the place was to be surrounded. They jeered at and jostled him, but at evening the old sheik, who superintended the work, gave him twelve dates. Stas was immensely overjoyed at this compensation, for dates with rice formed the only wholesome nourishment for Nell and became more and more difficult to obtain in Omdurmân.
So he brought them with pride to his little sister, to whom he gave everything which he could secure; he sustained himself for a week almost exclusively upon durra taken from the camels. Nell was greatly delighted at the sight of her favorite fruit but wanted him to share it with her. So, tiptoeing, she placed her hands on his shoulders, and turning up her head, began to gaze into his eyes and plead:
“Stas! Eat a half, eat—”
To this he replied:
“I have already eaten. I have eaten. I have eaten my fill.”
And he smiled, but immediately began to bite his lips in order not to weep, as he really was hungry. He promised himself that the following day he would go again and earn some more; but it happened otherwise. In the morning a muzalem from Abdullahi came with the announcement that the camel-post was to leave at night for Fashoda, and with the caliph’s command that Idris, Gebhr, Chamis, and the two Bedouins should prepare to go with the children. This command amazed and aroused the indignation of Gebhr; so he declared that he would not go as his brother was sick and there was no one to attend to him, and even if he were well, both had decided to remain in Omdurmân.
But the muzalem replied:
“The Mahdi has only one will, and Abdullahi, his caliph and my master, never alters commands. Your brother can be attended by a slave, while you will depart for Fashoda.”
“Then I shall go and inform him that I will not depart.”
“To the caliph are admitted only those whom he himself desires to see. And if you without permission, and through violence, should force yourself into his presence, I will lead you to the gallows.”
“Allah akbar! Then tell me plainly that I am a slave!”
“Be silent and obey orders!” answered the muzalem.
The Sudânese had seen in Omdurmân gallows breaking under the weight of hanging men. By order of the ferocious Abdullahi these gallows were daily decorated with new bodies. Gebhr became terror-stricken. That which the muzalem told him, that the Mahdi commanded but once, was reiterated by all the dervishes. There was therefore no help; it was necessary to ride.
“I shall see Idris no more!” thought Gebhr.
In his tigerish heart was concealed a sort of attachment for his older brother, so that at the thought that he would have to leave him in sickness he was seized by despair. In vain did Chamis and the Bedouins represent to him that they might fare better in Fashoda than in Omdurmân, and that Smain in all probability would reward them more bountifully than the caliph had done. No words could assuage Gebhr’s grief and rage, and the rage rebounded mainly upon Stas.
It was indeed a day of martyrdom for the boy. He was not permitted to go to the market-place, so he could not earn anything or beg, and was compelled to work as a slave at the pack-saddles, which were being prepared for the journey. This became a more difficult matter as from hunger and torture he weakened very much. He was certain that he would die on the road; if not under Gebhr’s courbash, then from exhaustion.
Fortunately the Greek, who had a good heart, came in at the evening to visit the children and to bid them farewell, and at the same time to provide for them on the way. He brought a few quinine powders, and besides these a few glass beads and a little food. Finally, learning of Idris’ sickness, he turned to Gebhr, Chamis, and the Bedouins.
“Know this,” he said. “I come here by the Mahdi’s command.”
And when they heard this they smote with their foreheads and he continued:
“You are to feed the children on the way and treat them well. They are to render a report of your behavior to Smain. Smain shall write of this to the prophet. If any complaint against you comes here, the next post will carry a death sentence for you.”
A new bow was the only reply to these words; in addition Gebhr and Chamis had the miens of dogs on which muzzles are placed.
The Greek then ordered them away, after which he thus spoke to the children in English:
“I fabricated all this, for the Mahdi did not issue any new orders. But as he said that you were to go to Fashoda, it is necessary that you should reach there alive. I also reckoned upon this, that none of them will see either the Mahdi or the caliph before their departure.”
After which to Stas:
“I took umbrage at you, boy, and feel it yet. Do you know that you almost ruined me? The Mahdi was offended at me, and to secure his forgiveness I was forced to surrender to Abdullahi a considerable portion of my estate, and besides, I do not know for how long a time I have saved myself. In any case I shall not be able to assist the captives as I have heretofore done. But I felt sorry for you, particularly for her (and here he pointed at Nell). I have a daughter of the same age, whom I love more than my own life, and for her sake I have done everything which I have done. Christ will judge me for this — Up to this time she wears under her dress, on her breast, a silver cross. — Her name is the same as yours, little one. Were it not for her, I would have preferred to die rather than to live in this hell.”
He was deeply moved. For a while he was silent, after which he rubbed his forehead with his hand and began to speak of something else.
“The Mahdi sends you to Fashoda with the idea that there you will die. In this manner he will revenge himself upon you for your stubbornness, boy, which touched him deeply, and he will not lose his fame for ‘mercy.’ He always acts thus. But who knows who is destined to die first? Abdullahi suggested to him the idea that he should order the dogs who kidnapped you, to go with you. He rewarded them miserably, and now he fears that they may publish it. Besides, they both preferred that the people should not be told that there are still in Egypt troops, cannons, money, and Englishmen. — It will be a hard road and distant. You will go into a country desolate and unhealthy. So guard, as the eye in the head, those powders which I gave to you.”
“Sir, order Gebhr once more not to dare to starve or hit Nell,” said Stas.
“Do not fear. I commended you to the old sheik who has charge of the post. He is an old acquaintance of mine. I gave him a watch and with that I gained his protection for you.”
Saying this, he began to bid them farewell. Taking Nell in his arms, he pressed her to his bosom and repeated:
“May God bless you, my child.”
In the meantime the sun descended and the night became starry. In the dusk resounded the snorting of horses and the groans of the heavily loaded camels.
XX
The old sheik Hatim faithfully kept his promise given to the Greek and watched over the children with great solicitude. The journey up the White Nile was difficult. They rode through Keteineh, Ed-Dueim, and Kawa; afterwards they passed Abba, a woody Nile island, on which before the war the Mahdi dwelt, in a hollow tree as a dervish hermit. The caravan often was compelled to make a detour around extensive floating ma
sses overgrown with pyrus, or so-called “sudds,” from which the breeze brought the poisoned odor of decomposed leaves carried by the current of water. English engineers had previously cut through these barriers, and formerly steamboats could ascend from Khartûm to Fashoda and farther. At present the river was blocked again and, being unable to run freely, overflowed on both sides. The right and left banks of this region were covered by a high jungle amid which stood hillocks of termites and solitary gigantic trees; here and there the forest reached the river. In dry places grew groves of acacias. During the first week they saw Arabian settlements and towns composed of houses with strange conical roofs made of dochnu straw, but beyond Abba, from the settlement of Gôz Abu Guma they rode in the country of the blacks. It was nearly desolate, for the dervishes had almost totally carried away the local negro population and sold it in the markets of Khartûm, Omdurmân, Fasher, Dar, El-Obeid, and other cities in the Sudân, Darfur, and Kordofân. Those inhabitants who succeeded in escaping slavery in thickets in the forests were exterminated by starvation and small-pox, which raged with unusual virulence along the White and Blue Niles. The dervishes themselves said that whole nations had died of it. The former plantations of sorghum, manioc, and bananas were covered by a jungle. Only wild beasts, not pursued by any one, multiplied plentifully. Sometimes before the evening twilight the children saw from a distance great herds of elephants, resembling movable rocks, walking with slow tread to watering places known only to themselves. At the sight of them Hatim, a former ivory dealer, smacked his lips, sighed, and spoke thus to Stas in confidence:
“Mashallah! How much wealth there is here! But now it is not worth while to hunt, for the Mahdi has prohibited Egyptian traders from coming to Khartûm, and there is no one to sell the tusks to, unless to the emirs for umbajas.”
They met also giraffes, which, seeing the caravan, escaped hurriedly with heavy ambling pace, swinging their long necks as if they were lame. Beyond Gôz Abu Guma appeared, more and more frequently, buffaloes and whole herds of antelopes. The people of the caravan when they lacked fresh meat hunted for them, but almost always in vain, for the watchful and fleet animals would not allow themselves to be approached or surrounded.
Provisions were generally scarce, as owing to the depopulation of the region they could not obtain either millet or bananas, or fish, which in former times were furnished by the Shilluk and Dinka tribes who exchanged them willingly for glass beads and brass wire. Hatim, however, did not permit the children to die of starvation, and what is more he kept a strict control over Gebhr; and once, when the latter at about bed-time struck Stas while removing saddles from the camels, he ordered the Sudânese to be stretched upon the ground and whipped thirty times on each heel with a bamboo. For two days the cruel Sudânese could walk only on his toes and cursed the hour when he left Fayûm, and revenged himself upon a young slave named Kali, who had been presented to him.
Stas at the beginning was almost pleased that he had left infected Omdurmân and that he saw a country of which he always had dreamed. His strong constitution thus far endured perfectly the toils of the journey and the abundant food restored his energy. Several times during the journey and at the stops he whispered to his little sister that it was possible to escape even from beyond the White Nile, and that he did not at all abandon that design. But her health disquieted him. Three weeks after the day of their departure from Omdurmân Nell had not indeed succumbed to the fever, but her face grew thinner and instead of being tanned it became more and more transparent, and her little hands looked as if they were moulded of wax. She did not lack care and even such comforts as Stas and Dinah with the aid of Hatim could provide, but she lacked the salubrious desert air. The moist and torrid climate united with the hardships of the journey more and more undermined the strength of the child.
Stas, beginning at Gôz Abu Guma, gave her daily a half powder of quinine and worried terribly at the thought that this remedy, which could be obtained nowhere later, would not last him long. But it could not be helped, for it was necessary above all things to prevent the fever. At moments despair possessed him. He deluded himself, however, with the hope that Smain, if he desired to exchange them for his own children, would have to seek for them a more salubrious place than the neighborhood of Fashoda.
But misfortune seemed continually to pursue its victims. On the day before the arrival at Fashoda, Dinah, who while in Omdurmân felt weak, fainted suddenly at the untying of the small luggage with Nell’s things taken from Fayûm, and fell from the camel. Stas and Chamis revived her with the greatest difficulty. She did not, however, regain consciousness, or rather she regained it at the evening only to bid a tearful farewell to her beloved little lady, and to die. After her death Gebhr insisted upon cutting off her ears in order to show them to Smain as proof that she died during the journey, and to demand of him a separate payment for her abduction. This was done with a slave who expired during the journey. But Hatim, at the entreaties of Stas and Nell, would not consent to this; so they buried her decently and her mound was safeguarded against hyenas with the assistance of stones and thorns. The children felt yet more lonely for they realized that in her they had lost the only near and devoted soul. This was a terrible blow, particularly for Nell, so Stas endeavored to comfort her throughout the whole night and the following day.
The sixth week of the journey arrived. On the next day at noon the caravan reached Fashoda, but they found only a pyre. The Mahdists bivouacked under the bare heaven or in huts hurriedly built of grass and boughs. Three days previously the settlement had been burnt down. There remained only the clay walls of the round hovels, blackened with smoke, and, standing close by the water, a great wooden shed, which during the Egyptian times served as a storage-place for ivory; in it at present lived the commander of the dervishes, Emir Seki Tamala. He was a distinguished personage among the Mahdists, a secret enemy of Abdullahi, but on the other hand a personal friend of Hatim. He received the old sheik and the children hospitably, but immediately at the introduction told them unfavorable news.
Smain was not in Fashoda. Two days before he had gone southeast from the Nile on an expedition for slaves, and it was not known when he would return, as the nearer localities were so depopulated that it was necessary to seek for human chattels very far. Near Fashoda, indeed, lay Abyssinia, with which the dervishes likewise waged war. But Smain having only three hundred men did not dare to cross its borders, guarded vigilantly, at present, by King John’s warlike inhabitants and soldiers.
In view of this Seki Tamala and Hatim began to deliberate as to what was to be done with the children. The consultation was held mainly at supper, to which the emir invited Stas and Nell.
“I,” he said to Hatim, “must soon start with all the men upon a distant expedition against Emin Pasha,* [* Emin Pasha, by birth a German Jew, was after the occupation by Egypt of the region around Albert Nyanza, Governor of the Equatorial Provinces. His headquarters were at Wadelai. The Mahdists attacked it a number of times. He was rescued by Stanley, who conducted him with a greater part of his troops to Bagamoyo, on the Indian Ocean.] who is located at Lado, having steamers and troops there. Such is the command which you, Hatim, brought me. Therefore you must return to Omdurmân, for in Fashoda there will not remain a single living soul. Here there is no place in which to live, there is nothing to eat, and sickness is raging. I know, indeed, that the white people do not catch small-pox, but fever will kill those children within a month.”
“I was ordered to bring them to Fashoda,” replied Hatim, “so I brought them, and need not trouble myself about them any more. But they were recommended to me by my friend, the Greek Kaliopuli; for that reason I would not want them to perish.”
“And this will surely happen.”
“Then what is to be done?”
“Instead of leaving them in desolate Fashoda, send them to Smain together with those men who brought them to Omdurmân. Smain went to the mountains, to a dry and high region where the fever does not k
ill the people as on the river.”
“How will they find Smain?”
“By the trail of fire. He will set fire to the jungle, first, in order to drive the game to the rocky ravines in which it will be easy to surround and slaughter it, and then in order to scare out of the thickets the heathens, who hid in them before pursuit. Smain will not be hard to find—”
“Will they, however, overtake him?”
“He will at times pass a week in one locality to cure meat. Even though he rode away two or three days ago they surely will overtake him.”
“But why should they chase after him? He will return to Fashoda anyway.”
“No. If the slave-hunt is successful, he will take the slaves to the cities to sell them—”
“What is to be done?”
“Remember that both of us must leave Fashoda. The children, even though the fever does not kill them, will die of starvation.”
“By the prophet! That is true.”
And there really remained nothing else to do but to despatch the children upon a new wandering life. Hatim, who appeared to be a very good man, was only troubled about this: whether Gebhr, with whose cruel disposition he had become acquainted during the journey, would not treat them too harshly. But the stern Seki Tamala, who aroused fear even in his own soldiers, commanded the Sudânese to be summoned, and announced to him that he was to convey the children alive and in good health to Smain, and at the same time to treat them kindly, as otherwise he would be hung. The good Hatim entreated the emir to present to little Nell a female slave, who would serve her and take care of her during the journey and in Smain’s camp. Nell was delighted greatly with this gift as it appeared that the slave was a young Dinka girl with pleasant features and a sweet facial expression.
Complete Works of Henryk Sienkiewicz Page 630