Chapter 25. Sam's Tongue

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_ CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE. SAM'S TONGUE

As soon as the first disappointment had passed off it was decided to make the best of their position--one whose advantages soon grew upon the adventurers. So the Hakim settled down steadily to his task of healing, and the Emir's son not only rapidly improved, but grew more friendly as he gained strength.

This friendliness was not displayed in his behaviour towards his doctor but in his dealings with Frank, who in his efforts to help Morris devoted himself heart and soul to their principal patient.

The young Emir had from the first seemed to be attracted by Frank, while he was morose to his white attendants, the very fact of the young man being a black and a slave to a white seeming to form a bond of sympathy; and finding that the Hakim would take no gifts, he often showed his satisfaction by making some present or another to his dumb attendant.

A greater one was to come.

Advantage was soon taken of the Emir's concession. Notice was given to the Baggara guard, and one afternoon, guarded by six mounted men, Frank, the professor, and Sam, attended by the Sheikh, mounted their camels and rode out of the palace gates to inspect the city and a part of its surroundings, with which, from the freedom he had already enjoyed, Ibrahim was becoming pretty well acquainted.

As soon as they started, the guard fell back to the rear, contenting themselves with following, and leaving the Sheikh to take whatever course he chose, so that he led, with Frank at his side, talking to him in a low voice as if describing all they saw to his dumb companion, who questioned him from time to time with his eager eyes.

Long experience as dragoman and guide had made the old man wonderfully intelligent and apt to comprehend his employer's desires, and that he did so now was shown at the first start.

"Which way am I going, Ben Eddin?" he said quietly. "Through the better parts of the city, where the wealthier people are, who keep slaves," and in a few minutes Frank was gazing about him with horror as he asked himself what must the worst parts of the place be if these were the best. For eyes and nostrils were disgusted at every turn. The heat was intense, and wherever any creature died or the offal of the inhabitants' food was cast out into the narrow ways, there it festered and rotted beneath the torrid rays of the sun, while myriads of loathsome flies, really a blessing to the place in their natural duty of scavengers, rose in clouds, and to hurry from one plague was only to rush into another.

Misery, neglect, and wretchedness appeared on every hand; but the population swarmed, and habit seemed to have hardened them to the power of existing where it appeared to be a certainty that some pestilence must rise and sweep them off.

Frank was not long in discriminating between the free and the enslaved. Those swarthy, black often and shining, sauntering about well-armed, and with a haughty, insolent bearing and stare at the mounted party; these dull of eye and skin, cringing, dejected, half naked, and often displaying the marks of the brutality of their conquerors, as they bent under heavy loads or passed on with the roughest of agricultural implements to and from the outskirts of the town.

"Plenty of slaves, Ben Eddin," said the Sheikh gravely. "Poor wretches, swept in from the villages to grow the Baggara's corn and draw and carry their water. They spare their camels to make these people bear the loads. Plenty of slaves. Look!"

Frank's eyes were already noting that to which the Sheikh drew his attention, for a party of about a dozen unhappy fellaheen, joined together by a long chain, which in several cases had fretted their black skins into open sores, were being driven along by a Baggara mounted upon a slight, swift-looking camel, from whose high back he wielded a long-lashed whip, and flicked with it from time to time at the bare skin of one of the slaves who cringed along looking ready to drop.

They were on in front, stopping the way in the narrow street between two rows of mud-brick houses, and consequently Frank's party had to slacken their pace, the driver having glanced insolently back at them and then fixed his eyes half-wonderingly upon Frank, before turning again and continuing his way, quite ignoring the fact that those behind were waiting to pass.

When he stopped he had turned his camel across the narrow road, completely blocking the way, and when he went on again, after gazing his full, he hurried his camel a little so as to overtake the last of the ironed slaves, and lashed at him sharply, making the poor wretch wince and take a quick step or two which brought him into collision with his fellow-sufferer in front, causing him to stumble and driving him against the next, so that fully half of the gang were in confusion.

The result was a savage outburst from their driver, who pressed on, making his whip sing through the air and crack loudly, as he lashed at the unfortunates, treating them far worse than the beasts that perish; but not a murmur arose as they stumbled on through the foul sand of the narrow way.

But there was one sound, a low, harsh, menacing grating together of teeth, and the Sheikh, who had long been inured to such scenes, turned sharply, to see that Frank's eyes were blazing with the rage within him.

"Yes," he whispered warningly, "it is horrible; but they are the conquering race from the south. We must bear it. Yes."

"Hah!" sighed Frank, and he shuddered at the bare idea of his brother being a victim to such a fate.

Just at that moment the roadway widened out a little, and the Sheikh took advantage of this to press on, so as to get his party past the depressing scene.

The camel he rode protested a little, and at the moaning growl it uttered the Baggara turned a little, and his eyes met those of Frank, looking dark and menacing.

"Hasten, Ben Eddin," whispered the Sheikh, and the young man's camel made step for step with that of the Sheikh; but before Frank's eyes quitted those of the slave-driver the man said something fiercely, raised his whip, and was in the act of striking at the young Englishman when there was a plunge, a bound, and the leader of the Emir's guard had driven his beautiful Arab horse against the flank of the driver's camel, sending the poor beast staggering against the mud house to the left and nearly dismounting the rider.

In an instant the savage turned with raised whip upon his aggressor, but the guard's keen, straight sword flashed out of the scabbard, and the sight of the rest of the party cowed him, while pointing forward, the guard sat watching him sternly till the party had passed the gang, when, with a quick sweep of his sharp blade he caught the whip close to the shaft, sheared it off, and then pressing his horse's sides he bounded on, leaving the brute scowling in his rear.

"We are to be saved from all insult, Ben Eddin," said the Sheikh gravely; "but you must not resent anything you see, and this shows you how careful we must be."

"Yes, but it makes my blood boil," said Frank to himself, as he gave the old Arab a meaning look full of promise as regards care.

They rode on and on and in and out through what at times was a teeming hive of misery and degradation, where filth and disorder seemed to be rampant. At times there were houses of larger build, and here and there attempts had been made to enclose a garden, in which there was the refreshing sight of a few trees; but the monotony of the place was terrible, and the absence of all trace of a busy, thriving, industrious population was depressing in the extreme.

"We must ride out from the city another time, Ben Eddin," said the Sheikh gravely, after they had gone on through the crowded ways for fully a couple of hours, their guard following patiently in the rear, and their presence ensuring a way being made through some of the well-armed, truculent-looking groups.

"Yes," said the professor, who overheard his words; "and I am afraid that we shall do no good hunting among these narrow streets. Can't you take us amongst the houses of the better-class folk, Ibrahim?"

"That is what I am trying to do, Excellency," said the old man; "but you see--wherever there is a big house it is shut in with walls, and there are so few--so few. It is like one of our worst villages near Cairo made big--so big, and so much more dirty and bad."

"The place is a horror, Frank," said the professor. "I wonder the people do not die off like flies."

"Doubtless they do, Excellency," said the old Sheikh gravely.

"They must, Frank," continued the professor. "The dry sand saves the place from being one vast pest-house. Look at the foul dogs, and yonder at the filthy vultures seated on the top of that mud house."

"There's lot's more coming, sir," said Sam, putting in a word, as he looked upward in a disgusted way. "I do hate those great, bald-headed crows."

"Hideous brutes!" said the professor, watching the easy flight of about half a dozen that were sailing round as if waiting to swoop down upon some prey.

"There is a dead body near," said the Sheikh calmly.

"What, on in front?" said the professor quickly; "for goodness' sake, then, let's go another way!"

The Sheikh looked at him half-protestingly, and shrugged his shoulders a little.

"Does his Excellency mean to go back the way we came?" he said. "It is very bad, and if we go by here we shall soon be outside upon the wide plain where we can ride round to the gate near the Emir's palace."

"Then by all means let's go on," said the professor.

"There may be nothing dead," said the Sheikh. "I think not, for the birds are waiting."

There was evidently, though, some attraction, for the numbers of the birds were increasing as they pushed on, to ride out into an opening all at once--a place which had probably been a garden surrounded by buildings, now fast crumbling into dust, and here upon one side, not a dozen yards away, lay the attraction which had drawn the scavenger birds together, at least a hundred more that they had not previously seen dotting the ruins in all directions.

"What a place!" said the professor, halting the beast he rode, which, like its fellows, instead of paying the slightest heed seemed to welcome the rest; and they all stood bowing their heads gently as if it were a mere matter of course, and no broad hint of their fate in the to-come.

For there, crouched down with its legs doubled beneath, was a large camel, evidently in the last stage of weakness and disease, its ragged coat and flaccid hump hanging over to one side, bowing its head slowly at the waiting vultures, that calm, bald-headed and silent, sat about with their weird heads apparently down between their shoulders--a great gathering, waiting for the banquet that was to be theirs.

Frank had hard work to repress the words which rose to his lips, and he signed to the Sheikh as he urged his beast forward.

"Hold hard a minute," said the professor; "it is not nice, but I want to see in the cause of natural history. I never saw a camel die."

Frank knit his brows, and in the cause of natural history felt glad that the loathsome birds refrained from attacking the wretched beast until it was dead.

The poor animal had, however, nearly reached what was for it that happy state of release, for as the professor watched, the camel slowly raised its head, throwing it back until its ears rested against its hump, gazed upwards towards the sky, shivered, and was at rest.

"Poor brute!" said the professor; "and what a release. Why, Ibrahim, I thought the Arab of the desert was tender to his beast, whether it was camel or horse?"

"Well, Excellency," said the old man proudly, "look at the camel you ride; look at these. I am an Arab: have you ever seen me otherwise than merciful to my beasts?"

"No," said the professor; "but look at that wretched creature! Ugh! how horrible! Let's ride on."

It was time, for nearly heedless of the presence of man, the vultures were dropping down from the ruins, and those in the air were making a final sweep round before darting upon their carrion prey. The party rode on in silence for a few minutes, the Sheikh waiting for the professor to continue; but he remained silent, and the old man began in protest--

"An Arab does not leave his beast like that, Excellency. These men here are not Arabs, but the fierce, half-savage people from high up the country, who have descended the river, killing and destroying, till wherever they stop the land is turned into a waste. Time back, when the great general was sent up to Khartoum, we said 'Now there will be peace, and the savage followers of the Mahdi will be driven back into the wilds; people will dare to live again and grow their corn and pasture their flocks and herds;' but, alas! it was not to be. The great Gordon was murdered, his people slaughtered, and the country that has been watered with the blood of the just still cries aloud for help. Is it ever to come?"

"Yes, Ibrahim, and soon," said the professor. "Who knows of the preparations being made better than you?"

"Yes, Excellency, I know," said the Sheikh slowly; "but it is so long in coming, and while they are waiting to be freed from the horrible tyranny of the Mahdi and his successor, the people wither away and die."

The old man looked at Frank as he spoke, and the young man gave him an approving nod, after which they rode on through the squalor and horrors of the place till the road grew more straight and wide, the hovels fewer. Then the filth and misery grew scarcer, patches of cultivated land appeared, from which weary-eyed faces looked up, half wondering, here and there, but only to sink listlessly again as their owners toiled on, with taskmasters ready to urge them on with their labour, as they tortured their sluggish oxen toiling at water-wheel or grinding at a mill.

But for the most part the Baggaras' slaves allowed the passers-by to go unnoticed, never once lifting their eyes from the ground.

As the party rode slowly on, their eyes carefully searched the buildings they passed in these outskirts of the town, till they reached the entrance where they first arrived, and soon after were winding their way in and out of the narrow streets till they came to their portion of the Emir's palace, and passed the guarded gate, to thankfully throw themselves upon the rugs of their shadowy room, hot, weary, and choked with dust.

"Well," said the Hakim, as soon as their guards were out of hearing, "good news?"

"No," said Frank, "the worst. We might go wandering in and out of this desolation of sordid hovels and crumbling huts for years, and see no sign of the poor fellow."

"And perhaps pass the place again and again," added the professor. "We are going the wrong way to work. What do you say, Ibrahim?"

"Thy servant fears that it is useless to go searching in such a way as this," replied the old Sheikh. "The city is so big--there are so many thousands crowding the place."

"Then what can we do?" said Frank wearily.

"Only try to get news of a white slave who was taken at Khartoum, Excellency," said the old man calmly. "I am working, but I fear to ask too much, for fear that I might do harm."

"Have we gone the wrong way to work, after all?"

"No," said the doctor decisively. "We are here, and Khartoum is so far away. You are hot and weary now, Frank; rest and refresh, my lad; they are grand remedies for despair."

"Yes," said the professor; "I feel as much out of heart as you, my boy, but common-sense says that we have only tried once."

Frank nodded, and rose to go into the room he shared with Sam, too weary and disheartened to notice that his old friend's servant had followed him, till he was startled by feeling the man's cool hands busy about him with a brass basin of cool water and a sponge, when he sat up quickly.

"Why, Sam," he cried, "are you going mad?"

"Hope not, sir," said the man, "though that hot sun and the dust can't be good."

"But what are you doing?"

"What'll set you right, sir, and ready for your meal."

"But you forget that I am the Hakim's slave."

"Not I, sir. Keep still, the black won't come off."

"But I can't let you be waiting upon me. Suppose one of the Emir's men came in."

"Well, that would be awkward, sir; but I'd chance it this time."

"No," said Frank stoically. "There, I feel a little rested now. Go on and bathe yourself. You want it as badly as I."

"But let me tend you a bit, sir--Ben."

"Sir Ben!" cried Frank angrily. "You mean to betray us, then?"

"It's just like me, Ben Eddin; but you will let me give you a cool sponge down? It's quite right, sir, as a barber."

"No, no, I'm better now," said Frank sharply, and he busied himself in getting rid of the unpleasant traces of their ride, feeling the better for the effort he was forced to make, and listening in silence to Sam, who, after so long an interval from conversation was eager to make use of his tongue.

"Hah!" he said; "water is a blessing in a country like this; but oh, Ben Eddin, did you ever see such a place and such a people?"

"No," said Frank shortly. "Horrible!"

"Why, our Arabs, sir, with their bit of a tent are princes and kings to 'em. Ugh! the horrible filth and smells and sights, and then the slaves!"

"Horrible!" said Frank again.

"I've read a deal about slavery, sir, and the--what do they call it?-- atrocities; but what they put in print isn't half bad enough."

"Not half," assented Frank.

"After what I have seen to-day, not being at all a killing and slaughtering sort of man, I feel as if it's a sort of duty for our soldiers to come up here with fixed bayonets, and drive the black ruffians right away back into the hot deserts they came from. Did you see inside one of those huts we passed?"

"I saw inside many, Sam," replied Frank.

"I meant that one where the two miserable-looking women came to the door to see us pass."

"What, where a man came back to them just before we reached the dying camel?"

"Yes; that was the place."

"I just caught a glimpse of him as we passed."

"Was that all, Ben Eddin?"

"Yes, that was all. Why?"

"Ah, you were on first, and I was a bit behind the professor, sir, and I saw it all."

"What did you see?"

"Saw him go up to first one and then the other, knocking them down with a big blow of his fist; and the poor things crouched with their faces in the sand and never said a word."

"The savage!"

"That's right," said Sam viciously. "I was talking to Mr Abraham about it afterwards, and he said he saw it too, and that they were slaves, like hundreds upon hundreds more, who had been taken in some village the wretches had looted, and that he hadn't a doubt that their husbands had been cut down and killed in one of the raids. What's a raid, sir?"

"A plundering expedition, Sam," said Frank wearily, "such as that the Emir was upon when we were captured."

"Oh, I see, sir. Big sort o' savage kind o' murder and burglary, wholesale, retail, and for exportation, as you may say. When they want anything they go out and take it?"

"Exactly."

"Hah! That's what old Mr Abraham meant when he said that these Soudan tribes didn't care about settling down and doing any gardening or farming, because they could go and help themselves whenever they wanted. He said they were black locusts who came out of the south."

"He was quite right, Sam," replied Frank, "and you have seen the effect of their visits; every place is devastated, and the poorer, industrious people get perfectly disheartened."

"I see, sir. Feel it's no use to get together a bit of a farm and some pigs, because as soon as the corn's ripe and the pigs are fat these locusts come and eat the lot."

"You are right as far as the corn is concerned, Sam," said Frank, smiling; "but I don't think you have seen many pigs since you have been out here."

"Well, now you come to mention it, sir, I haven't. I was thinking about it when I saw some of those bits of farm places outside where the slaves were at work, and it made me think of an uncle of mine who was in that line of business away in the country--he's a rich farmer now out in Noo Zealand. I used to go for a holiday to see him sometimes down in Surrey, and he would say that there was nothing like having a good sow and a lot of young pigs coming on, different sizes, in your styes, for they ate up all the refuse and got fat, and you'd always something to fall back on for your rent, besides having a nice bit of bacon in the rack for home use. He said he never saw a small farm get on without pigs. Some one ought to show 'em how to do it out here. But I don't know what would be the use of fattening up your pigs for the Mahdi chaps to come and drive them away."

"There is no fear of either, Sam," said Frank, smiling. "These Mohammedan people look upon the pig as an unclean beast."

"Well, that's true enough, sir; but it is his nature to. He's nasty in his habits, but he's nice."

"I mean unclean--not fit to eat--a Mohammedan would be considered defiled by even touching a pig."

"Ho!" said Sam scornfully, "and I suppose killing and murdering and getting themselves covered with blood makes 'em clean! Unde--what do you call it?--undefiled. Well, all I can say is that the sooner this holy man and his followers are chivied out of the country the better."

"Yes--yes--yes, Sam," said Frank, more wearily; "but don't talk to me. I want to think."

"I know, sir, about Mr Harry, sir; but don't think, sir. You think too much about him."

"What!" cried Frank angrily.

"It's true, sir. You're fretting yourself into a sick bed, and though I'd sit up o' nights, and do anything in the way of nursing you, sir, we can't afford to have you ill."

"Why not, Sam?" said the young man bitterly. "It is all hopeless. Poor Harry is dead, and the sooner I follow him the better."

"Mr Frank--Ben Eddin, I mean--I do wonder at you! It don't seem like you speaking. Never say die, sir! What, talk about giving up when we've got to the place we were trying for! There, I know. You're done up with being out in the sun. But cheer up, sir. You come and have something to eat, and then have a good night's rest. You'll feel different in the morning. Why, we've hardly begun yet. You knew before you started that Mr Harry's up here somewhere. Well, we've got to find him, and we will."

"If I could only think so," groaned Frank.

"Think so, then, sir," said Sam earnestly. "Why look at me, sir. 'Bout a month ago I used to groan to myself and think what a fool I was to leave my comfortable pantry in Wimpole Street to come on what I called a wild-goose chase; but I came round and made up my mind as it was a sort o' duty to the guv'nor and you gents, and though I can't say I like it, for the smells are horrid, and the way the people live and how they treat other people disgusting, I'm getting regular used to it. Why, if you gentlemen were to call me to-morrow and to say that the job seemed what you called it just now, hopeless, and you were going back, I should feel ashamed of you all. You take my advice, sir, and stick to it like a man. It's like looking for a needle in a bundle of hay, I know; but the needle's there, and you've got to pick out the hay bit by bit till there's nothing left but dust--it's sand here--then you've got to blow the dust away, and there's the needle."

"That's good philosophy, Sam," said Frank, smiling.

"Is it, sir? Well, I am glad of it. I only meant it for good advice." _

Read next: Chapter 26. A Fight Among Friends

Read previous: Chapter 24. Freedom Of Action?

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