SHORT TALE

Otago Witness, Issue 2242, 18 February 1897, Page 42

SHORT TALE

A LIKE FOR A LIFE.

We sat together in tha verandah at Shepheard's Hot-el Cairo lay beneath and aronnd us— Cdro, filthy, mult.t-coloured, and malodorous, but always picsuwaqae. Suddenly an Arab boy camo round the corner, and, with a salaam of the deepsftb, banded some po%t letters to Grimshaw. Then he squatted down on the verandah boards, with his great black eyes fixed on my companion's face, waiting for further orders. " Your boy, captain 1 " I asked. "Yes," replied Gritnahaw; "but a great deal morfc than that. I should ba buried in the Soudan now if it were not for Ibrahim yonder." ■ " Tell me about it, pleace," I asked, rather eagerly ; for this small Arab in the clear, wbite tunio and brilliant turban interested me mightily. Grjmshaw settled hioiHelf back in the bun v alow chair, and began : "You know, of coarse," he said, "that I was in Khartoum with Gordon. I did not regularly belong to the General's forces, but I had volunteered as one of his aides-de-camp. Well, we were shut up in that deathtrap city of Kbartoum, surrounded npon every side by the forces of. the Mahdi — myriads of. fanatical Soudanese Arabs, following that high priest of blooußhed. We English were dug a mere handful of men ; th« auxiliary forces were wretchedly small. Our only hope wa3 aid from Egyp\ aud, ac the whole world knows, that never came. Poor Gordon was allowed to fall a victim to the Mahdi's sword, and most of the garrison were slain. With the exception of Slatin Bey, I think I was the only European who got out of the doomed city with my life. That I did so is due to Ibrahim." Here the Arab boy, heariDg his name

mentioned, looked up and smiled, showing ■ a row of teeth exceptionally even aud white. "A few days after we entered Khartoum," continued Grimshaw, "I was patrollfng the town under Gsntsral Gordon's orders when j we came across a grfiab rabble of boy*, j halloing and shouting ab a deafanrtsg rate. I sent an Egyptian soldier to discover the cause, and he reported that the young 1 f uzzy-wuzzies ' (it is bo that Private Atkins of her Majesty's troops denominates the Soudanese) wera ' having fun ' with one of their number. I was then, as now, intensely interested in native manners and customs. Halting my men, I entered the bointerous cordon of boys to determine the reason of their tumult. "The little rascals were teasing one of their number. 'Tsasing,' indeed, in this case is too mild a word. They were beating and stoning the lad, who lay braised and half blinded in the gutter. His turban waa off, and his already "scant clothing had been torn to aureds. 1 tpraaa into the middle of tbe mob and demanded the cnuse of suoh brutal treatment. At first tbay »ff«cbsd not ! to understand my Arabic, &&d went on beating their victim, but whoa I had soundly cuffed one or two aod sumtai>ued ray interpreter to my 'aid, I succeeded Jn making them aoftwer. " ' He ie the ren<iga<le'« fioc/ said the «ngleadfir—' Hasost>, the renegade's sou. Stone him. in the name of the Prophet*' " Then I understood. Tbe poor boy's father had taken service with Gordon, leaving his offspring to suffer all the (Huelties which the Ktmtourn children, eggzi& on by their eldar#, were euro to inflJcc upon him. I lott mo time ia ctlWng up a fe?r men a»d sending that pack of youthful taoatioa to the right-about. They went away vowing dire vengeance on the ' renegade's brat,' and I raised my prot ege from the dnat. He had fainted from pain and losa of blood, but one of our sarjceoni! Boon brought him to. When be opened his eyes nud saw me, he emtled . like a. little oo£fea- coloured an.gel, and warned ffcore and then Co give me bis best saUuun, Of course I made him lia down again, but j he blurtad oat bis gratitude for preß-wvation i so vigorously that he came near fainting again. ■ "Next day his father, Hassan, one of Gordon's 6ervantP, oirae to mo him. The t.wo hftd a long talk, and finally Haseaa decided to leave the general, and go bz.uk. to bis cobbler's stall in the bazaar, lbiabim — for the lad whom I had helped to rescue was the same one now sitting before you — soon recovered, thanks to his native, tongh con* stitation. He loft my hut, absolutely refusing to touch any of the mousy which I offered him. " ' Protfioscr of the poor,' he s&id, in his quaint, grandiloquent Eastern way, 'you have saved your servant's life. Did not the mouse once repay the lion that had been bis benefactor 7 Lo I I am the monse, effendi, and yoa are the lion. Perhaps some day' I may repay you. Salaam, friand! 1 "Then be backed out of my hufc, and I saw him not for many days. "One evening, however, while hunting through the bazaar on my way to Ganaral Gordon's quarters, a boy sprang om of a cobbler's stall and banded me a ti6T bundle, slipping away lu.'o the d-irk««as before J had Uroe to do mote than rtoogaifte Wsj a? Ibta-hi.-n, son of Hassan. I osriiad tha butidle to the general, and together we undid its fastenings. Hava you ever deciphered an Oriental object letter ? I mean a letter whioh is not written npon paper, onfc of which the sense is coziveyed by objflete— flowers and the Jiko. Tha bundle handed ma by Ibrahim was jast nv.ch ft. comamnicxtloa. It contained si queer collect-on ot articles. They were a piede of broken knife-.blade, asorapof green cloth, two flowers (marigolds, I think), with only the heads remaining, a brick from the vralla, and, lastly, an iron affair which I at once recognised aa the point of one of thosa sticks with wi:ioh oaraela are urged onwacd. "General Gordon loat no time in unravelling the mystery of this mis"ive. ' The green cloth,' he said, ' means the Mahdi, because bis sacred flag is green. The knife-bHde stands for a sword, and the decapitated ilowers moan that our heads ar« going to be cut cff. The brick, I take it, hint* of treachery inside th« wall«. The carnol spike advises you to fly from Khtutoum immediately. Where did you get this ? ' " When I told him the Bonroe of my information be vraa inclined to pooh-pooh Ibrahim's letter. •It is a boy's fear and fancy,' be eaid. 'We shall be relieved in a few weeks.' • " Bab the Mahdi's men formed an impenetrable circle around the town — a oirele that grew ever narrower and narrower. Day after day we scanned the desert horizon for some sign of the expected relief, but ■without avail. D*y after day the impression grew stronger upon each and all of us that we were doomed. " Daring an early morning walk, Ibrahim accoefed me as suddenly aa he had done before. ' Fly, effendi 1 ' ho whispered. ' The city is betrayed. My father and other Mussulmans have decided to let the Mahdi within the gates. Disguise yourself and fly before it is too late 1 ' " I shook my head, for duty kept me iv Kuarloura ; and Ibrahim retreated with teara ia those big, honest eyes of his. "The very next night his warning was fulfilled. It would be idle, my friend, to tell j you over again all the horrors of tho capture, or rather betrayal, of Khartoum. Tho Mahdi'a soldiers wero like fiend 3 incarnate. ; Spent with far.igue and slender fare, we could not Et,3r».d before them. Gordon, poor fellow, was slaia, and a remnanc of us was j driven, fighting for life, from' hut to hut j across the city. Finally, with empty j revolver and broken sword, I found nHyself in the stairway of a rude minarer, waiting for the death which If elt to be inevitable. It iB all very well to meet death boldly on the field of battle, with comrades and friends round one, bub to pit down in a dark stairway and coont the minutes until its coming might make the bravest man in the world feel uncomfortable. All round I heard the hideous sounds of slaughter, and watched through a tiny loophole in the wall the red flame shooting across the sky (for it was midnight, and a starless midnight to boot). A sick feeling stole over me. To remain oooped up thus seemed intolerable.. I had jußt resolved to rash into the tiiick of the Soudanese and.

[ Bell my life aa dearly as possible wneh » footfall on theatairs below arrested me. " It was the sound of a naked foot, and aB I peexed, every sense on the alert, into the half light by the mioaret .doorway, I vaguely distinguished a dark form And two shining eye*. Waa it one of Baa Mahdl'a troops in saaroh of human pray 1 I gripped my broken tword tighter, and prepared for action. 11 • Effendi I ' whispered a voice. •la It you, protector of the poor 1 ' " The voioe was that of Ibrahim, son of Hassan. My heart gave a leap for gladneßs, and I answered him that it was indssd "myself. [ " ' It is good \' be exclaimed. € My lord, I I have oome to save yon. Hasten down,, and don these garments whioh I have brought you. They belong to the old blind priest ; who lodged with my father. He died last •night, but nobody knows of it yet. You oan < pass an the old priest and escape, Make haste, sahib — make haste 1 ' ," I saw tbe chance, and seized it. Before yon could have repeated the proverbial *• Jaok Robinson ' many limes, I had pulled those baggy Mohammedan clothes over my tolled ; And blood-stained uniform. A turban took 1 tbe plaoe of my khaki heliuenft, and around i rdy face I draped -the wbite hood which tha i Soadaa«»« Arabs wear. Then, before I could [ protest, Ibrahim coolly seized a handful of ! mud and liberally daubed my face. " ' The sahib is too white,' he explained. • The old blind priest was always black and dirty — no kick off your boots, sahib, and let me daub your feat.' Off* went my boots, and j in a rcmufco or two my leg* from the knea I dewu wvra as brown (and aa dirty) as they ' wol! might be. I " • Yoa are all right now, effeodi,' said Ibrahim. ' Let us make for the Cairo gate.' " With all my heart I thanked the boy, but he would listen to no thanks. ' You saved my life ; I'll sfcve yours,' ho said. ' Remember, effendi, fcne monso aud tbe lion. Let us i hasten t» the gate.' j " ' Bat yon are not ooming ' I began, when my pro t oat was interrupted by a troop of black Mahdiats surging into the little by-street where we stood. Never shall I forget the sight they presented, in the false ! light 0? the burning city, with their hugo I piles of hMr, thoir ferocious faces, aud their ! spe«r« and soiroitars a-drlp with blood, I i had given myself ovar for lout, wb<m IbraI him, " gripping my baud, led me onward, calling in sing-song tones : ' Room for tha blind priest. Boom for Amad, son of AH, the soothsayer. The light of Allah is upon the blind priest 1' ! " Taking the ismfe, I plucked up cctxriwra , ectcmaib. to shout the wtu'-ciy of tbe Mahc . . The ' iVizj-ffuzzies,' entirely deceived, joht-i iv my cry. '"Bide your time, holy father,' said one of them; 'we'll give you plenty of Ohristian heads later on.' " Then they left us, whooping like demons <3own the street, but Ibrahim plucked at my elesw, &e>6 mtjohaaioally I followed him, Mauy timea we mor, partien of. the Mahdisfce, 1 but in the darkueus our ruse succseded I beautifully, and we reached the Cairo gate in safety. " Around the gate, despite the confusion, a ?t.rong guard had been posted. In tbe open ! spaofl without macj" ecoi 03 ot camelrf wera ; »pr»«fling. I "• A camti! foi the MahcU's messenger ! ' I cried I'oiabjm in his shrill voice. *Ho, brothers 1 a c&mal for tbe blind soothsayer, Amed, son of All, who bears the Malidl's defiance across the desert.' . i> " A dozen dusky warriors surrounded u», and a* many awkward camels were prodded so their feet. On* of those ungainiy b&asta was made to kneel, while Ibrahim made a great show of helping the supposed blind priest to a seat npon his back. " Jast then a tall 'fuzzy-wuzzy ' — clearly an officer — rushed forward. ' Who is this V ha dMu^odad. ' Where docs this man go 1 The oroera are th*t meno shall loava the gates i before daybreak.' " My heart ?ank, but fortunately for us the natural superstition of the Araba came to our aid. 'Have a care!' oried one of tha soldiers. •Itis a blind priest— a soothsayer. He may curse you.' / " The officer stepped back involuntarily, eyc-kig me with fear. • Give ns your blessing, holy father,' oried a dozan onlookers. •'Bors-was a new pnKHoa\»Bnt. I could not remember enough Arabic at the moment to give the desired blessing, but a whisper from Ibrahim recalled to my mind si simple form o* words which, eked out by discreet mumbling on my pare and the loud responses o? the boy, s.utucl the Arabs we'll enough. They prostrat«d thsaj selves, the oiEc&r with the rest, amid a greats cry of ' AiJah Ackbar.' Then Ibrahim smote our camel soundly, and away we wont through the oufcposts, speeding fast from the gory city of. Khartoum. " The perils and adventures o£ the journey are too numerous fco bo told at one sitting, . but it was nearly a monlli after that awM night; tbafc oar camel limped into Cairo, carrying on bis back two emaciated fugitives who bad once been an officer of tbe line and an Arab boy. " Ibrahim has been all round the world with me since, and will probably continue to bo my comrade until one oE us twain departs this life for ever. Eb, Ibrahim, old I friond 1 " The Arab lad smiled, and spread out his hands. • " Thy fate is mine, effendi," he said. " You saved my life." i "On that score, Ibrahim," answered Captain Gvimshaw, " I think we are quits. Itemembtr Kharloura."