Through the Desert. Henryk Sienkiewicz

as far as from here to Sicily,” replied Mr. Tarkowski.

      “Almost,” corrected Stasch. “Khartum lies at the junction of the White Nile and the Blue Nile. Much of Egypt and the whole length of Abyssinia separate us from it.”

      He was on the point of adding that even if Medinet lay nearer the districts most affected by the insurrection, he would always be there with his rifle, but when he remembered that he had been repeatedly reproved by his father for similar bragging he was silent.

      The two fathers began conversing about the Mahdi and the insurrection, for this was the most important news concerning Egypt. The news from Khartum was not encouraging. The savage tribes had now besieged the town for nearly a month and a half. The English and Egyptian government officials were slow to act; the relief army had scarcely started; and everybody thought that, notwithstanding Gordon’s fame, heroism, and ability, this important town would fall into the hands of the barbarians. Mr. Tarkowski, who suspected that England would be only too glad if the Mahdi were to conquer southern Egypt, so that they might recapture it from the Mahdi and convert this enormous tract into an English settlement, was of the same opinion. But he did not say this to Mr. Rawlison for fear of wounding his patriotic feelings.

      When the dinner was nearly finished, Stasch inquired why the Egyptian Government had annexed all the land south of Nubia—Kordofan, Darfur, and Sudan as far as the Albert-Nyanza, and why it had robbed the inhabitants of their liberty. Mr. Rawlison determined to explain this to him, because every move by the Egyptian Government was made at the command of England, which had extended her protectorate over Egypt and ruled it as she pleased.

      “The Egyptian Government has deprived no one of his liberty,” said he, “but instead has returned it to hundreds, thousands, and perhaps millions. A short time ago there were no independent towns in Kordofan, Darfur, and Sudan, except here and there where some small potentate asserted his rights to several districts and appropriated them by force, against the will of the inhabitants. But on the whole they were inhabited by independent tribes of Arabo-Negroes; that is to say, by people having the blood of both these races in their veins. These tribes were perpetually fighting with one another. They would attack one another, steal horses, cattle, and especially slaves. At the same time many atrocious deeds were committed, but the most desperate of these men were those who hunted for ivory and for slaves. They formed, as it were, a class apart, and to this class nearly all the chiefs of the tribes and the prosperous merchants belonged. These men led armed reconnoitering parties into the interior of Africa, and stole ivory tusks and took thousands of people—men, women, and children—captive. They also destroyed villages, settlements, and fields, and spilled rivers of blood; they mercilessly massacred every one who made any show of resistance; so much so that the southern part of Sudan, Darfur, and Kordofan, and also the districts of the upper Nile as far as the lakes, were almost depopulated in places. But the Arabs advanced still farther, so that nearly the whole of central Africa was converted into a vale of tears and blood. Therefore England, which, as you know, pursues all slave dealers in every part of the world, agreed that the Egyptian Government should occupy Kordofan, Darfur, and Sudan, for that was the only way to force these thieves to stop their gruesome slave-trading. The unhappy negroes breathed freely once more, and, as they were no longer afraid of being robbed and attacked, they settled down to some degree of law and order. Apparently this state of affairs did not please the traders, so when Mohammed Achmed—now called the Mahdi—appeared in their midst, under the pretext that Mohammedanism in Egypt was on the decline, and proclaimed the Holy War, all the men of one accord took up arms, and thus the terrible war began, in which, until now, the Egyptians have fared very badly. The Mahdi has beaten the Egyptian troops in every battle, and has taken possession of Kordofan, Darfur, and Sudan; his tribes are now besieging Khartum and advancing as far north as the borders of Nubia.”

      “And is it possible that they can reach Egypt?” asked Stasch.

      “No,” answered Mr. Rawlison. “The Mahdi, it is true, has proclaimed that he will conquer the whole world, but he is a barbarian and does not know what he is talking about. He can not conquer Egypt, for England will not permit it.”

      “But suppose the Egyptian army be worsted?”

      “Then the English troops, which are invincible, will appear on the scene.”

      “And why did England permit the Mahdi to take possession of so many districts?”

      “How do you know that she permitted him?” answered Mr. Rawlison. “England never acts in haste, for she is a great nation.”

      The conversation was now interrupted by the negro servant, who announced that Fatima Smain was there and that she earnestly begged an audience. The women of the Orient practically confine their energies to household matters, and rarely leave the harem. Only the poorer ones go to market or work in the fields like the wives of the fellahs (Egyptian peasants), and they veil their faces. In Sudan, where Fatima came from, this was not the custom, and although she had been to Mr. Rawlison’s office before, her appearance in a private house, and especially at this late hour, seemed rather peculiar.

      “We shall learn something new about Smain,” said Mr. Tarkowski.

      “Yes,” answered Mr. Rawlison, at the same time motioning the servant to usher in Fatima.

      In a few seconds there appeared a tall, young Sudanese woman; her dark, beautiful face, with its wild, tragic, and prophetic eyes, was unveiled. On entering she immediately fell on her face, and when Mr. Rawlison ordered her to arise she assumed a kneeling position.

      “Her dark, beautiful face, with its wild, prophetic eyes, was unveiled. When Mr. Rawlison ordered her to arise she assumed a kneeling position.”

      “Sidi,” she began, “may Allah bless you, your heirs, your house, and your flocks.”

      “What do you want?” asked the engineer.

      “Pity, deliverance, and help in time of trouble. Oh, sir, I am imprisoned in Port Said, and destruction hovers over me and my children!”

      “You say you are imprisoned, and yet you are able to come here even at night.”

      “The Sabties, who guard my house day and night, led me here, and I’m sure they have been ordered to cut off our heads very soon.”

      “Talk like a sensible woman,” answered Mr. Rawlison, frowning. “You are not in Sudan, but in Egypt, where no one is killed without a judicial sentence, and so you can rest assured that not a hair of your head or of your children’s will be touched.”

      However, she besought him once more to intercede for her with the Egyptian Government, and obtain permission for her to travel to meet Smain. “The English are as great as you, sir,” she said; “they are able to accomplish anything. The government in Cairo thinks that Smain is guilty of treason, but that is not true. Yesterday I talked with Arabian merchants, who came from Suakim, after having bought rubber and ivory in Sudan, and they told me that Smain lies ill in El-Fasher and bids me and the children come to him, so that he may bless us.”

      “Fatima, you have invented this tale,” interrupted Mr. Rawlison.

      She now began to protest by Allah that she was telling the truth, and then she said that were Smain to recover he would certainly buy the freedom of all the Christian prisoners, and if he were to die then she—as a relative of the leader of the Dervishes—would easily gain admission to him, and be able to obtain anything she asked. If only she might travel to join her husband, for her heart bled longing to see him! What had she, unhappy woman done against the government or the Khedive? She asked if it were her fault, and if she could have prevented her misfortune in being the relative of the Dervish, Mohammed Achmed.

      Fatima did not dare, before Englishmen, to call her relative “the Mahdi,” as that name means “Saviour of the World”; and she knew that the Egyptian Government looked upon him as a rebel and a schemer. Continually bowing and calling on heaven to witness her innocence and her misfortune, she began