Night faded away. They were just about to mount the camels when they suddenly perceived a desert wolf, which, dropping its tail between its legs, crossed over the narrow pass that lay about a hundred feet from the caravan, and gaining the opposite plateau, ran on, terrified, as if fleeing before an enemy. In the Egyptian wilderness there are no wild animals of which wolves are afraid, and therefore this sight greatly worried the Sudanese. What could this mean? Could it be that the pursuers were coming upon them? One of the Bedouins quickly climbed a rock, but hardly had he taken a look than he ran down again.

“By the prophet,” he cried, distracted and frightened. “There seems to be a lion running toward us, and he is already quite near.”

Just then from behind the rock a “Wurgh” in a deep bass voice was heard, at which Stasch and Nell with one voice cried out with joy:

“Saba! Saba!”

As this means “lion” in Arabic, the Bedouins were still more frightened. But Chamis laughed out loud and said:

“I know this lion.”

With these words he gave a long whistle, whereupon an enormous dog rushed among the camels. When he saw the children he bounded upon them, threw Nell down as she stretched out her hands toward him, climbed up on Stasch, then ran around them, whining and barking. Again he knocked Nell down, again climbed up on Stasch, and at last lay down at their feet and began to pant.

His flanks were sunken in and froth dripped from his protruding tongue, but he wagged his tail and raised his eyes, looking affectionately at Nell, as if to say to her: “Your father told me to protect you, and here I am!”

The children sat down on either side of him and began to caress him. The two Bedouins, who had never seen a similar creature before, looked at him with surprise, and repeatedly cried out: “Ouallach! O kelb kebir!” (Great heavens! What a large dog!). The latter remained quiet for a while, then raised his head in the air and drew in his breath through his black nose, which resembled an enormous truffle, sniffed, and sprang to the dying fire, near which lay remains of food.

At the same moment the goat and sheep bones began to crack and break like straws between his enormous teeth. The remains of a meal for eight people, including Dinah and Nell, were enough for even such a “kelb kebir.”

But the Sudanese were worried at the dog’s arrival; the two camel-drivers drew Chamis to one side and began to talk to him in a worried and excited manner:

“Idris brought this dog here,” cried Gebhr; “but how was he able to find his way to the children, for they came to Gharak by train?”

“Probably he followed the tracks of the camels,” answered Chamis.

“That is bad. Any one seeing him with us will mark our caravan, and will be able to show which road we have taken. By all hazards we must get rid of him!”

“But how?” asked Chamis.

“Here’s a gun—take it and put a bullet in his head.”

“It is true we have a gun; but I don’t know how to fire it. Perhaps you do.”

Chamis might have been able to fire it off in case of necessity, for Stasch had often opened and shut the lock of the gun in his presence; but his sympathy was aroused by the dog, which he had grown to like, even before the arrival of the children in Medinet. Besides, he knew very well that the two Sudanese had no idea how to use a gun of the newest pattern, and that they would not take the trouble to find out.

“If you are unable to do it,” he said with a cunning smile, “then no one but this little Christian will be able to kill the dog; but this gun might go off several times in succession, and so I do not advise you to give it into his hands.”

“Heaven forbid!” answered Idris. “He would shoot us down like quail.”

“We have knives,” remarked Gebhr.

“Try them, but remember that you also have a throat, which the dog may tear open before you have time to stab him.”

“Then what are we to do?”

Chamis raised his eyebrows.

“Why do you want to kill the dog? Even if you bury him in the sand the hyenas will dig him out, and the pursuers will find his bones and know that we have not gone along the Nile, but have crossed over to this side. So let him follow us. Whenever the Bedouins go for water, and we are hidden in a ravine, you may be sure that the dog will stay with the children. Allah!”

“It is well he caught up to us here; otherwise he would have led the pursuers on our tracks as far as Barbary. You will not need to feed him, for if he is not satisfied with the remnants of our meals he will not go hungry; he can always catch a hyena or a jackal. Let him alone, I tell you, and waste no more time chattering.”

“Perhaps you are right,” said Idris.

“If I am right, I will give him water, so that he will not run to the Nile and be seen in the villages.”

Thus was Saba’s fate decided, and after having rested a little and had a good meal he lapped up a dish of water, and thus refreshed, followed the caravan with renewed energy.

They now rode over a tableland, on which the wind had made furrows of sand, and from which reached wide stretches of desert. The sky assumed the hue of a pearl mussel-shell. Light clouds gathered in the east, shining like opals, and then melting into golden tints.

First one, then a second ray of light shot forth, and the sun—as is usual in southern countries, in which there is scarcely any twilight or dawn—did not rise, but burst forth from behind the clouds like a pillar of fire, flooding the horizon with living light. Heaven and earth were calm, and far as human eyes could see lay the trackless sand plains, now suddenly disclosed in the vivid glow.

“We must hurry,” said Idris, “for we can be seen here from a great distance.”

The camels, strengthened by their rest, and having had plenty to drink, raced along with the fleetness of gazels. Saba remained behind, but there was no fear that he would get lost and not be forthcoming at the next feeding-place. The dromedary on which Idris rode with Stasch ran alongside of Nell’s camel, so that the children could easily speak to each other. The seat which the Sudanese had padded proved to be very comfortable, and the girl really looked like a little bird in a nest; even if asleep she could not fall out. This ride fatigued her less than the one during the night, and the bright daylight gave her and Stasch courage. The lad’s heart was full of hope; as Saba had overtaken them, might not the rescuers also be able to do so? He immediately mentioned this to Nell, who now smiled at him for the first time since they had been carried off.

“And when will they overtake us?” she asked in French, so that Idris would not understand.

“I don’t know. Maybe to-day, maybe to-morrow, maybe in two or three days.”

“But on the return journey we shall not ride on camels?”

“No. Only as far as the Nile, and then on the Nile to El-Wasta.”

“Oh, that’s good, that’s good!”

Poor Nell, who used to be so fond of riding on camels, was now evidently sick and tired out.

“On the Nile—to El-Wasta and to papa!” she began to repeat in a sleepy voice.

As she had not rested long at their last stopping-place, she now fell asleep, the heavy sleep that comes in the morning after great fatigue. Meanwhile the Bedouins drove the camels ceaselessly on without letting them stop for an instant. Stasch noticed that they were going toward the interior of the desert.

To make Idris less confident that the party would be able to elude the pursuers, and also to show him that he felt certain of their being found, Stasch said:

“You are leaving the Nile and the Bahr Yoosuf, but that will be useless, for they will not search for you on the banks, where there is one string of villages, but in the interior.”

And Idris said:

“How do you know we are leaving the Nile? The banks can not possibly be seen from here.”

“Because the sun, which is now in the east, warms our backs; that means that we have turned off toward the west.”

“You are a clever boy,” said Idris approvingly.

And after a while he added:

“But the pursuers will not overtake us—neither will you escape from us.”

“No,” he answered. “I shall not run away, unless it is with her.” And he pointed to the sleeping Nell.

They raced along until noon, scarcely making a halt. When the sun stood high in the heavens and it began to be very warm, the camels, although it is not their nature to perspire profusely, were dripping with perspiration, and went along much more slowly. Once more the caravan was surrounded by rocks and sand heaps. Ravines, which served as beds of rivers called “Khori” during the rainy season, were seen oftener than before. At last the Bedouins made a halt in one quite hidden between the rocks. But scarcely had they alighted from the camels than they began to yell and run forward, bending down and throwing stones. Stasch, who had not yet dismounted, saw a strange sight. From between the dried shrubs that grow plentifully at the bottom of the “Khors” appeared a large snake, which wound its way through the clefts of the rocks as quick as lightning and glided off to a hiding-place of its own. The angry Bedouins followed it, and Gebhr hurried to their assistance with a knife. But the unevenness of the ground made it as difficult to strike the snake with a stone as to stab it with the knife, and in a little while all three returned with terror on their faces, and the usual cries of the Arabs were heard.

“Allah!”

“Bismillah!”

“Maschallah!”

Then the two Sudanese looked at Stasch with a penetrating and questioning glance. But he had not the least idea why they did so.

Meanwhile Nell had dismounted, and though she was not so tired as the night before, Stasch spread a cloth rug over a shady, level spot and told her to lie down, so that, as he said, she could stretch out her feet. The Arabs walked about eating their mid-day meal, which consisted only of zwiebach, dates, and a drop of water. The camels were not given a drink, as they had been watered during the night. The faces of Idris, Gebhr, and the Bedouins bore an anxious look, and the time of rest passed in silence. At last Idris took Stasch to one side and began to question him in a mysterious and troubled manner:

“Did you see that snake?”

“Yes.”

“Was it you who bid it appear before us?”

“No.”

“Some misfortune will surely come upon us, for these clumsy fellows were not able to kill the snake.”

“The gallows await you.”

“Silence! Perhaps your father is a sorcerer?”

“Yes,” answered Stasch without hesitation, immediately realizing that these savage and superstitious beings regard the appearance of a snake as a bad omen—an augury that the flight would not be successful.

“So your father sent it to us,” continued Idris. “He ought to realize that we might take revenge on you for his witchcraft.”

“You will do nothing to me, for Fatima’s sons would pay you back for every wrong done to us.”

“Did you understand? Remember that if it had not been for me, not only you, but the little girl, too, would have bled to death under Gebhr’s scourge.”

“I shall intercede only for you. Gebhr will be hanged.”

Thereupon Idris looked at him for a while in surprise and said:

“Our lives are not in your hands yet; you talk to us as if you were our master.”

After a pause he added:

“You are a peculiar boy; I have never seen any one like you before. I have always thought well of you until now—but take care, do not make any threats.”

“God punishes traitors!” answered Stasch.

It was quite evident that the tone of authority with which the boy spoke, together with the bad omen in the form of the serpent which had escaped, made Idris feel exceedingly uneasy. Even later, when mounting his camel, he frequently repeated: “Yes, I have more than once been kind to you!” as if he wished at all events to impress this on Stasch’s mind; then he began to finger the nut-shell beads of his rosary and to pray.

Toward two o’clock in the afternoon the heat—although it was winter—became unbearable. Not a cloud could be seen in the sky, but the edges of the horizon had become gray. Over the caravan soared several hawks, which from their great height cast black shadows on the yellow sand. In the heated air there was a smell as of something burning. Although the camels did not change their pace, they began to sniff. One of the Bedouins now approached Idris.

“There is something bad coming,” he said.

“What do you think it can be?” asked the Sudanese.

“Evil spirits have awakened the wind, which sleeps in the western part of the desert, and it has risen out of the sand, and is now rushing toward us.”

Idris rose in his saddle, looked out into the distance, and replied:

“That’s right. It is coming from the west and south, but it does not seem to be as furious as the Khamsin.”^[4]

“But only three years ago it buried a whole caravan in the vicinity of Abu Hammed, and did not uncover it until last winter. Ulla! It may blow with such force as to stop up the camels’ nostrils, and dry up the water in the leather bags.”

“We must hasten on, and steer our course so that we will strike only the edge of it.”

“We are running straight into it, and can not possibly avoid it.”

“The sooner it comes, the sooner it will be over.”

At the same time Idris whipped up his camel with the scourge, and the others followed his example. For a while nothing was heard but the cries of “Yalla! Yalla!” and the hollow sound of the thick whips, that resembled the loud clapping of hands. The western horizon, which had been almost white, had now become dark. The heat continued, and the sun blazed down on the heads of the riders. The hawks must have soared very high, for their shadows became smaller and smaller, and at last entirely disappeared.

It now became oppressively sultry. The Arabs cried out to the camels until their throats were dry; then they became quiet, and a deathlike silence ensued, broken only by the groaning of the animals and the rustle of two small sand-foxes^[5] with enormous ears, which sped past the caravan, fleeing to the opposite side of the desert.

The same Bedouin who had previously spoken to Idris said once more in a peculiarly strange tone of voice:

“The wind will soon break loose and bury everything.”

“All the more need of helping the little girl.”

Idris whipped up the camel, and for a while they continued in silence.

“Why don’t you speak?” asked Stasch.

“Because I am wondering whether I had better tie you to the saddle or bind your hands behind your back.”

“Have you gone crazy?”

“No. But I can guess what you want to do.”

“The searchers will overtake us in any case, so I need not do anything.”

“The desert is in God’s hands.”

They again relapsed into silence. The coarse sand had ceased falling, but a fine red dust, somewhat resembling mildew, remained in the air, through which the sun shone like a sheet of copper. Distant objects could now be plainly seen. Before the caravan extended a plain, on the edge of which the Arab’s sharp eyes again perceived a cloud. It was higher than the previous ones and rose in columns that formed enormous funnels with wide-spreading tops. At this sight the hearts of the Arabs and Bedouins quaked with fear, for they recognized the sand-spout. Idris raised his hands, and lifting them to his ears, began to bow to the advancing whirlwind. His belief in his own God apparently did not prevent him fearing others, for Stasch distinctly heard him say:

“Lord! We are your children, therefore do not devour us!” And the “Lord” rushed upon them, and hit the camels with such force that they almost fell to the ground. The animals huddled together in a compact mass, with their heads turned toward the center. Enormous quantities of sand began to fly. The caravan was enveloped in darkness that momentarily grew more intense, in which they saw black and indistinct objects—like enormous birds or camels—sweep rapidly past them, as if frightened by the hurricane. The Arabs were greatly alarmed, for they thought they saw the souls of the men and animals that had perished in the sand. In the midst of the tumult and howling of the hurricane they heard strange voices, sometimes weeping, sometimes laughing, sometimes cries for help. These sounds were only delusions. Danger a hundred times more terrible threatened the caravan. The Sudanese well knew that if one of the great sand-spouts, which continually form in the center of the hurricane, should drag them into its vortex, it would knock down the riders and disperse the camels, and, bursting upon them, would in the twinkling of an eyelash bury them under mountains of sand, there to remain until some similar storm should uncover their bones and scatter them over the desert.

Stasch nearly lost his breath; the sand blinded him, and he became dazed and dizzy. Sometimes it seemed as though he heard Nell crying and calling, and so he thought of her alone. Knowing that the camels were standing closely together, and that Idris could not be paying any attention to him, he determined to steal over to the girl’s camel, not that he wished to escape, but only to help and encourage her. He had scarcely put out his hands to catch Nell’s saddle than Idris’ large arm held him back. The Sudanese picked him up like a feather, laid him down, and tried to bind him with a palm rope, and after he had tied his hands, placed him across the saddle. Stasch clenched his teeth and resisted as much as possible, but all in vain. As his throat was parched and his mouth full of sand, he could not convince Idris that he only wanted to assist the girl, and had no intention of trying to escape. But a little later, feeling that he was all but suffocated, he cried out in a strained voice:

“Save the little Biut! Save the little Biut!”^[6]

The Arabs preferred to think of saving their own lives. So terrible was the sand-storm that the Bedouins could neither sit on the camels, nor could the camels remain standing. Chamis and Gebhr sprang to earth to hold the curb-bits, which were fastened under the lower jaws of the animals. Idris pushed Stasch off the back of the saddle and endeavored to control his camel. The animals stood with their legs far apart so as to resist the raging storm, but strength failed them, and the caravan was blown about in the sand, which pricked like pins, and torn to pieces as though with lashes from sand-thongs. Slowly at first, then faster, they began to twist and stagger as the hurricane advanced. From time to time the sand whirls dug grave-like hollows beneath their feet, or the sand and gravel, rebounding from the flanks of the animals, instantly formed hillocks, which reached up higher than their knees. In this manner hour after hour passed, the situation becoming more and more alarming. Idris at last realized that the only means of deliverance lay in remounting the camels and racing with the storm. But that meant returning in the direction of Fayoum, where Egyptian courts and the gallows awaited them.

“Ha! There is nothing else to be done,” thought Idris. “The hurricane has delayed our pursuers also, and as soon as it ceases we will gallop once more toward the south.”

So he cried out for them to remount. But just then something happened that completely changed the situation. The dark sand-clouds, now almost jet black, were suddenly permeated with bluish light. Then the darkness grew still more intense, and now arose in the higher regions of the air the slumbering thunder. Awakened by the whirlwind, it began to roll loudly, threateningly, and angrily between the Arabian and Libyan deserts. It seemed as if mountains were falling from the sky. The deafening noise increased; it made the earth tremble, and began to encircle the entire horizon.^[7] From time to time the sound crashed with such terrible force that it seemed as though the firmament was broken and falling to earth. Sometimes it was like a hollow, distant rumbling; then again it broke forth still louder, flashed its blinding lightning, threw thunderbolts, rose and fell and crashed again. This continued a long while.

At last the wind ceased, as if terrified, and after a long, momentous pause the doors of heaven closed and a stillness as of death ensued.

A little later the voice of the leader rang through the silence:

“God is over the storm and hurricane! We are saved!”

They started off again; but the darkness was so impenetrable that although the camels ran side by side, their riders could not see each other, being obliged to call out every minute so as not to become separated. From time to time the lightning pierced the sand-filled air with vivid blue and red flashes, and then the darkness became so intense that it might almost be felt. Despite the confidence that the leader inspired in the Sudanese, they still felt uneasy, for they ran on blindly, not knowing where they were going, whether turning round in a circle or going toward the north or south. The animals stumbled every minute and made but little speed, panting so peculiarly and breathing so hard that it seemed to their riders as if the whole desert was gasping from fright. At last came the first large raindrops that generally follow a hurricane, and the leader shouted through the darkness:

“Khor!”

They had reached a ravine. At first the camels stood motionless at the edge, then began to descend very carefully.