During the day they secreted themselves in places difficult of access, in the midst of cliffs and rocks, and during the night they hurried on without stopping, until they had passed the first cataract, when at last the Bedouins recognized, from the position and shape of the khor, that Assuan now lay behind them. With this a heavy weight fell from Idris’ shoulders. As they were now suffering for lack of water, they approached to within half a day’s journey of the river. After Idris had secreted the caravan for the following night, he sent all the camels with the Bedouins to the Nile, so that they could drink enough to last for some time. The fertile zone along the Nile becomes narrower after leaving Assuan. In some places the desert reaches to the river. The villages are some distance apart, and thus the Bedouins were able to return safely, having been perceived by no one, and with a plentiful supply of water. Now the only question was how to obtain food, for their animals had had so little to eat this last week that they had become very thin. Their necks were long, their humps sunken in, and their feet weak. The maize and other food for the party could at a stretch last only two days longer. But Idris was of the opinion that at the end of two days’ journey, though traveling only by night, they might approach the pastures near the river, and perhaps be able to buy dates and zwieback in some village.

Saba received absolutely nothing more to eat or drink; the children saved some scraps for him, but he knew how to help himself out in some way, for he arrived at the halting-places with a bloody throat and traces of bites on his neck and chest. Whether the spoils of these fights were jackals or hyenas, or perhaps even sand-foxes and gazels, no one ever knew; it sufficed that he did not appear to be very hungry. Sometimes also his black lips were wet, as if he had drunk. The Bedouins supposed that he had dug deep holes in the ground of the ravines and in this manner had reached water that he had scented through the ground. Sometimes lost travelers dig up the broken earth, and if they do not always find water, they nearly always come upon wet sand, and by sucking the water out of it quench their painful thirst.

But a great change had also come over Saba. His chest and neck were still strong, but his flanks were sunken in, which made him look taller. His bloodshot eyes had a savage and threatening look. But to Nell and Stasch he was as devoted as ever, and let them do what they liked with him; he wagged his tail at Chamis now and then, but at the Bedouins and Sudanese he barked, showed his terrible fangs, and ground his teeth like iron nails. Thus Idris and Gebhr began to be afraid of him, and they hated him so that they would probably have shot him with the gun they had captured if the desire of bringing Smain such a rare specimen of an animal, and the fact that they had already left Assuan behind them, had not held them back.

Assuan lay behind them! Stasch continually thought of this, and it slowly dawned upon him that there was great doubt of the searchers overtaking them. It is true, he knew that not only the so-called Egypt—which ends below Wadi Halfa, that is, in the vicinity of the second cataract—but also the whole of Nubia, was at this time in the hands of the Egyptian Government, and he also realized that on the other side of Assuan, and especially below Wadi Halfa, it would be more difficult to search for them, and the orders of the government would be less promptly executed. However, he still cherished the hope that his father and Mr. Rawlison, after having organized the search, would go alone by steamer from Fayoum to Wadi Halfa, and from there, after having obtained from the government soldiers mounted on camels, would try to bar the way of the caravan from the southern side. The boy calculated that he would do this if he were so situated, and so he considered that he had a good foundation for his supposition.

He did not give up the thought of attempting to escape. The Sudanese wanted powder for the gun they had captured, and to get it they decided to tear open a number of cartridges; so he told them that he only could do it, and that if one of them went clumsily at it the cartridge would explode and tear off his hand. Idris, who was usually afraid of strange things and English discoveries, in the end decided to trust this work to the boy. Stasch was glad to do it, because he hoped that the strong English powder would burst the old Arabian gun at the first shot, and he also hoped to be able to secrete a few cartridges. He found this easier than he thought. He was watched while he did it, but the Arabs began to talk among themselves, and they were soon paying more attention to their conversation than to him. This talkativeness and inborn carelessness at last permitted Stasch to hide seven cartridges in his breast pocket. Now it was only a case of gaining possession of the rifle.

The boy believed that this would not be very difficult beyond Wadi Halfa, after the second cataract, for he supposed that the watchfulness of the Arabs would slacken in proportion as they approached their destination. The thought that he would have to kill the Bedouins, the Sudanese, and even Chamis still filled him with terror, but after the murder which the Bedouins had committed he had no more scruples. He said to himself that after all it was a matter of Nell’s defense, of her freedom, and of her life, that therefore he ought not to spare the lives of their enemies, especially if they would not surrender and a fight should result. The question was now how to obtain the gun. Stasch decided to take it by strategy if he found a suitable opportunity—not to wait till they reached Wadi Halfa, but to execute his intention as soon as possible. And he did not wait.

Two days had now elapsed since they passed Assuan, and at last, at daybreak of the third day, Idris was obliged to send the Bedouins for food, which was now very scarce. Stasch, when he considered that he now had fewer opponents, said to himself, “Now or never!” and immediately turned to the Sudanese with the question:

“Idris, do you know that the country beginning at Wadi Halfa is Nubia?”

“I know it. I was fifteen and Gebhr eight years old when our fathers brought us from the south to Fayoum, and I remember that at that time we traveled all through Nubia on camels. But this country still belongs to the Turks (Egyptians).

“Yes, the Mahdi is only at Khartum—you see how stupidly Chamis talked when he told you that the army of the Dervishes extended as far as Assuan. But I should like to ask you another question. I have read in books that in Nubia there are many wild animals and thieves, who are no good to any one and who attack the Egyptians as well as the faithful followers of the Mahdi. How will you defend yourselves if wild animals or thieves attack you?”

Stasch purposely exaggerated when speaking of wild animals, but, on the other hand, since the beginning of the war attacks by robbers had become quite frequent, especially in the southern parts of the country bordering on Sudan.

Idris considered the question a while, for he was not prepared to answer it because he had not previously thought of these new dangers; then he said:

“We have knives and a gun.”

“A gun like yours is of no use.”

“I know it. Yours is better, but we do not understand it, and we shall not give it into your hands.”

“Even if it is not loaded?”

“Yes, for it might be bewitched.”

Stasch raised his eyebrows.

“Idris, if Gebhr had said this I should not have been surprised; but you—I thought you had more sense! With an unloaded gun even the Mahdi could not shoot.”

“Be silent!” interrupted Idris angrily. “The Mahdi can shoot with nothing but his fingers.”

“Then you shoot like that yourself.”

The Sudanese gazed questioningly into the boy’s eyes.

“Why do you want me to give you the gun?”

“I will teach you how to shoot with it.”

“What good will that do?”

“A great deal, for if thieves attack us they might kill all of us! But if you are afraid of the gun or even of me, then let the matter drop.”

Idris remained silent. He was really afraid, though he did not want to own it. But he was very anxious to become acquainted with the English weapon, for possessing it and knowing how to use it would give him higher standing in the camp of the Mahdists—besides which he could more readily defend himself in case of an attack.

So after considering a while he said:

“All right. Chamis shall give us the gun and you can take it out of the case.”

Chamis followed out the order in a half-hearted way, and Gebhr could offer no opposition because he was busy nearby with the camels. With trembling hands outstretched, Stasch took the barrel, then the butt, and handed them to Idris.

“You see that it is empty,” he said.

Idris took the barrel and looked through it into the air.

“Yes, there is nothing in it.”

“Now pay attention,” said Stasch; “this is the way the gun is put together”—and at the same time he put the butt and the barrel together—“and this is the way it is opened. Do you see? I shall now take it apart, and then you may put it together again.”

The Sudanese, who followed Stasch’s movements very attentively, tried to do likewise, but he did not find it very easy; however, as the Arabs are generally noted for their great dexterity, the gun was put together after a while.

“Open it,” said Stasch.

Idris opened the gun without any trouble.

“Close it.”

This was done still more easily.

“Now give me two empty cartridges. I will teach you how to put them in.”

The Arabs had kept the empty cartridges, and so Idris handed two of them to Stasch, and the lesson began again.

The Sudanese at first became frightened at the noise which the cartridges made, but at last he was convinced that one can not shoot with the empty barrel of a gun or with empty cartridges. Besides his confidence in Stasch also returned, because the boy gave him the weapon to hold in his hands every few seconds.

“So,” said Stasch, “you can put the gun together, you can open, shut, point, and pull the trigger, but you must also learn how to take aim, and that is the most difficult of all. Take an empty water-bag and set it down a hundred paces away—there, on one of those stones, and then come back to me. I will show you how to take aim.”

Idris did not hesitate, but took a leather bag and started to set it up on the designated stone. Before he had gone the first hundred paces Stasch had drawn out the empty cartridges and replaced them with charged ones. Stasch’s heart and temples began to throb so violently that he thought his head would split. The decisive moment had come—the moment of freedom for Nell and himself—the terrible and longed-for moment of victory!

Now Idris’ life was in his hands. One pull on the trigger and the traitor who carried off Nell would fall dead. But Stasch, in whose veins flowed Polish and French blood, suddenly felt that nothing in the world could tempt him to shoot one whose back was toward him. For ought he not at least have the privilege of turning around and looking death in the face? And what would happen then? Then Gebhr would come running up, and before he had taken ten steps he, too, would lie writhing in the sand. Then there was Chamis, but the latter would lose his head, and even if he did not Stasch would have time to reload the gun. When the Bedouins returned they would find the three bodies and they themselves would meet their deserts. All that remained to be done would be to guide the camels toward the river.

These thoughts raced through Stasch’s head like a whirlwind. He felt that the deed to be committed in a few seconds was most terrible, but at the same time most necessary. Pride of victory battled in his breast with feelings of horror and distaste of the means necessary for mastery. He hesitated only a moment when he remembered the tortures that white prisoners had suffered; and at the thought of his father, of Mr. Rawlison, of Nell, and of Gebhr, who had beaten the girl with the scourge, he became more bitter against them. “It must be! It must be!” he cried through his clenched teeth, and his unalterable resolution showed in his face, which was now set as if carved out of flint.

Meanwhile Idris had laid the leather bag down on a stone a hundred feet off and turned around. Stasch saw his smiling face and tall figure on the flat, sandy plain. For the last time the thought flashed through his mind that this man, now living, would shortly fall to earth and grovel in the sand in his death agony. But the boy hesitated no longer, and when Idris was fifty feet nearer he slowly lifted the weapon to his cheek.

But before he had time to place his finger on the trigger a loud voice was heard in the direction of the sand-dunes several hundred feet away, and at the same moment about twenty riders on horses and camels appeared on the plain. Idris was struck dumb at the sight; Stasch was no less surprised, but his surprise was soon changed to the greatest joy. At last these must be the people sent in search of them, for whom they had waited so long! Yes, it must be! Doubtless the Bedouins had been captured in the village, and had confessed where the caravan was hidden. Idris must have had the same idea, for after recovering from his first fright he came running up to Stasch, his face pale with terror, and kneeling at his feet, repeated in a gasping voice:

“Sir, remember that I have been good to you! I have been good to the little Biut.”

Stasch mechanically took the cartridges out of the gun and gazed at the riders, who galloped up to them as quickly as their animals could carry them, and with cries of joy tossed their long Arabian guns in the air and caught them again most dexterously while the animals were still galloping. In the clear, transparent light they could be distinctly seen. At their head galloped two Bedouins, who were gesticulating most violently with their hands and burnooses.

In a few minutes the whole company reached the caravan. Several of the riders sprang off the horses and camels; others remained in their saddles continually shouting. But all that could be understood were two words: “Khartum! Gordon! Gordon! Khartum!”

One of the Bedouins, whom his companion called Abu Anga, at last rushed up to Idris, who was crouching at Stasch’s feet, and cried:

“Khartum has fallen! Gordon is dead! The Mahdi is triumphant!”

Idris stood up, but did not believe his ears.

“And these people?” he asked, his lips trembling.

“These people were supposed to capture us, but now they are going to accompany us to the prophet.”

Everything grew dark before Stasch’s eyes.