the desert, but Nell was somewhat disappointed; until now she had certainly expected to meet her papa in Gharak.
In the meanwhile the station-master, a drowsy Egyptian wearing a red fez, approached, and as he had nothing else to do he began to gaze at the European children.
“These are the children of the Inglesi who rode toward the desert early this morning armed with guns,” said Idris, as he lifted Nell into the saddle.
Stasch gave his gun to Chamis and seated himself beside Nell, for the saddle was large and fashioned like a palanquin, except that it had no roof. Dinah sat down behind Chamis, the others also mounted camels and followed them, and so they all departed.
Had the station-master looked after them he might have been surprised, for the Englishmen of whom Idris had spoken were traveling directly toward the ruins in Sudan, whereas the children were going straight toward Talei, in an opposite direction. But he had gone into his house, for there were no more trains to stop at Gharak that day.
It was five o’clock in the afternoon and the weather was remarkably fine. The sun had passed to the western side of the Nile and was sinking below the desert. The golden and purple hues of the sunset illuminated that side of the heavens. The atmosphere was so permeated with the glow as to be nearly blinding in its brilliancy. The fields assumed a lilac hue, but the heights, taking on a pure amethyst color, were sharply outlined against the twilight background. The world lost all semblance to reality, and the light effects were as weird as those seen in some plays.
As long as they rode over green and plowed land the Bedouin leader led the march at a moderate pace, but the moment the camels felt the desert sand crunch under their feet the whole scene suddenly changed.
“Allah! Allah!” screamed the savage voices of the Bedouins.
At the same time the cracking of whips was heard, and the camels, changing from a trot to a gallop, began to race like a whirlwind, throwing clouds of the sand and loose gravel into the air with their feet.
“Allah! Allah!”
When a camel trots he shakes his rider up more than when he gallops—a gait these animals seldom use—for then he sways more. And so this wild ride amused the children at first. But it is well known that too rapid swinging causes dizziness, and after a long time, as their pace did not slacken, little Nell’s head began to swim and everything became indistinct before her eyes.
“Stasch, why are we racing so?” she cried, as she turned toward her companion.
“I think they have given the camels a loose rein and now they can not hold them back,” Stasch replied.
But when he saw that the girl’s face was somewhat pale, he called to the Bedouins, who were racing along ahead of them, to go more slowly. But his cries only resulted in their screaming “Allah!” again and the animals increasing their speed.
At first the boy thought that the Bedouins had not heard him, but when there was no answer to his repeated demands, and when Gebhr, who was riding behind them, continued to whip up the camel on which he and Nell sat, he came to the conclusion that instead of the camels having broken loose, it was the men who were hurrying them along for some reason of their own.
It occurred to him that perhaps they had gotten on the wrong road, and were obliged to run like this to make up for lost time, fearing that the two gentlemen might scold them if they arrived late. But he soon saw that this could not be the reason, for Mr. Rawlison was more likely to be angry with him for tiring out Nell. So what could this mean? And why did they not obey his orders? In his heart the boy began to be very angry and also very much worried over Nell.
“Stop!” he cried with all his might, turning to Gebhr.
“Onskout! (be quiet),” roared the Sudanese in answer. And they raced on.
In Egypt night comes on toward six o’clock. The sunset soon died away and a full, round moon, colored red from the reflection of the sunset, arose and flooded the desert with its mild light. In the silence nothing was to be heard save the camels gasping for breath, the quick, hollow clatter of their hoofs on the sand, and now and then the cracking of the Bedouins’ whips. Nell was so tired that Stasch was obliged to hold her in the saddle. Every minute she asked if they would not soon arrive at their destination, and only the hope of seeing her father soon again buoyed her up. But they both looked around in vain. An hour passed—then another. There was neither tent nor campfire to be seen.
Then Stasch’s hair stood on end with terror—he realized that they had been kidnapped.
CHAPTER VI
Mr. Rawlison and Mr. Tarkowski were really waiting for the children, but not in the midst of the sandy heights of Wadi Rayan, for they had no reason or wish to go there, but in a quite different place, in El-Fasher, a town on the canal of that name, where they were inspecting work done during the preceding year. The distance between El-Fasher and Medinet is about forty-five kilometers in a straight line, but as there is no direct communication, one is obliged to travel by El-Wasta, which almost doubles the distance. Mr. Rawlison consulted the time-table and calculated as follows:
“Chamis went away the day before yesterday,” he said to Mr. Tarkowski, “and in El-Wasta he took the train coming from Cairo, so he must have been in Medinet this morning. The children only need an hour to pack their things. But supposing they left at noon, they would have had to wait for the night train, which runs along the banks of the Nile, and, as I have forbidden Nell to travel by night, they probably started early this morning, and they will reach here a little after sunset.”
“Yes,” said Mr. Tarkowski. “Chamis must rest a little; it is true, Stasch is hot headed, but in anything that concerns Nell he can be relied on. Besides, I sent him a card telling him that they were not to leave at night.”
“He is a capable boy and I have full confidence in him,” replied Mr. Rawlison.
“Yes, indeed, so have I. In spite of his many faults, Stasch is a boy of good character and never lies, for he is brave, and only a coward lies. He does not lack energy, and later, when his judgment develops, I think he will be able to fight his way through the world.”
“Certainly; but just think if you ever acted with deliberation at his age?”
“I must confess that I did not!” replied Mr. Tarkowski, laughing; “but perhaps I was not so self-conscious as he is.”
“He will get over that. Meanwhile, be glad that you have such a boy.”
“And you that you have such a sweet, dear little soul as Nell.”
“God bless her,” answered Mr. Rawlison, much affected.
The two friends clasped hands, and then began to examine the plans and cost of the water-works, and so the time passed quickly until evening.
At six o’clock, at night-fall, they went to the station, walked up and down the platform, and continued talking about the children.
“Lovely weather, but cool,” Mr. Rawlison said. “I wonder if Nell has taken warm enough clothing with her?”
“Stasch doubtless
