Boys -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction; Egypt -- Juvenile fiction; Gordon Relief Expedition (1884-1885) -- Juvenile fiction
"Then we are going to strike right out into the desert, of course."
"Yes, Excellency, to take the shortest ways; and it looks like flight."
That evening the Hakim visited his one patient, and found him making
excellent progress; but the young chief made no attempt to communicate
the change that was to take place, contenting himself with bowing his
head slowly by way of thanks, and then closing his eyes and turning away
his head. He made signs to Frank, though, soon after, to bring him
water, and the latter noted at once that the young man's eyes looked
pained and anxious, and that his brow was a good deal lined. And it was
plain enough to read the meaning of the anxious glances northward which
he kept on giving, as if hoping against hope that the delay was not
serious.
But there was not a sign upon the distant horizon, though the air was
cool and clear, so that the sky-line where the sandy sea joined the air
was perfectly distinct, till night closed in over a busy scene, for the
men of both parties were working hard packing and preparing. The two
rows of camels crouched munching away contentedly after being watered,
and as their loads were finished each was placed near the camel which
was to be its bearer, and glanced at by the animals as if they quite
understood.
This took the attention of Sam, who seized the instant when he was
making the final arrangement with Frank over the Hakim's leather cases,
once more carefully packed, to whisper a few remarks.
"They seem rum things, don't they, sir? Just look at that one how he
keeps turning and rolling his eyes at these two long portmanteaus!
Don't you tell me that they don't understand, because I feel sure that
they do. That big, strong fellow's saying as plainly as he can, `For
two pins I'd bolt off into the desert and strike against that load, only
it would be no good; they'd fetch me back; and I don't like leaving my
mates.'"
"Well, there is a peculiarly intelligent look about the beast certainly,
Sam," said Frank, smiling.
"'Telligent, sir? I should think there is! Look how he keeps on
licking his lips and leering at us now and then. Beautiful and patient,
too. Why, he's quite smiling at us, and as soon as they begin to hang
his load upon his beautiful humpy back he'll begin moaning and groaning
and sighing as if there never was such an ill-used animal before. Oh,
they're queer beasts, and no mistake. I'd like to drive that fellow;
that's what I should like to do. He'd taste the whip more than once."
"Why?" asked Frank, for Sam stopped short and looked at him as much as
to say, "Ask me."
"Because, as the people say, I've got my knife into him, and I want to
pay him."
"Well, go on," said Frank. "I am waiting to hear your reasons."
"Because he's an ugly, supercilious, contemptuous, sneering, ill-behaved
brute, sir. Last time I went near him he called me names--a dog of a
white nigger, or something of that kind. I can't say exactly what."
"Absurd!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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