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In the Mahdi's Grasp, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 18. Stolen Food |
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_ 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. _ |
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