THE ALLIES QUARREL
Now arose a crisis that threatened more than any of the previous ones the success of our movement. Indeed, even the lives of all of the Christian members of the expedition were at stake. When we had reached a spot about ninety miles from Bomba, we found ourselves facing a famine. We had only six days' rations of rice, no bread nor meat, nor other ration. General Eaton was therefore anxious that we move forward to Bomba as swiftly as possible, but Hamet, while the general was out of camp, ordered the expedition to halt and announced that the troops needed a day's rest. The reason for his act, we learned, was that he might send a courier to see if our ships were indeed awaiting us at Bomba.
The general stopped the rations when he found that his army had halted, and Hamet, influenced by his Arab hosts, prepared again to march in a direction away from Derne. The Arabs tried to seize the weapons of the Christians, and General Eaton promptly called us to arms. We stood in a row before the magazine tent, guarding our guns from those who would use them to slaughter us. When the crowd had fallen back, the general ordered us to proceed with our daily drill. Seeing this, an Arab chief shouted:
"The Christians are preparing to fire on us!"
Hamet put himself at their head, with drawn sword, as if he feared that such was our intention.
General Eaton stood firmly facing the threatening host of Turks and Arabs. Around him clustered a little group: O'Bannon, Peck, Farquhar, Leitensdorfer, Selem Aga, the Greek officers, and myself. I tried my best to keep the gun in my hand from shivering, but the more I tried the more my hand trembled. Two hundred mounted Turks and Arabs advanced in full charge against us. The end was in sight. We leveled our muskets. I thought of Alexander and the Rector and said a prayer.
"Do not shoot until all hope of peace is gone—then sell your lives dearly!" General Eaton said.
The charging Arabs swerved and withdrew, but when we began to breathe more freely, they came closer, and this time we could see them selecting us as their targets. It did not seem that any of us Christians could survive five minutes longer. An Arab youth snapped a pistol at my breast. Providentially it missed fire. If one bullet had been fired, war to the death between the two sides would have resulted. A moment later we heard the command of "fire!" ring out from among the Arabs.
"At the first shot, give them a volley!" General Eaton ordered.
At this critical instant, one of Hamet's officers ran out towards the mutineers and cried: "For God's sake, do not fire! The Christians are our friends!"
Then the general, although a column of muskets was aimed at his breast, approached Hamet and demanded of him how he could support such desperate acts. The Bashaw wavered. A chorus of furious whoops from the Arabs drowned the general's voice. He waved his hand as a signal for attention. In response, some of the more kindly disposed chiefs rode before the Arabs with drawn sabres and ordered the infuriated tribesmen to fall back.
The general again reproached Hamet for his weakness, and even Hamet's chief officer asked the Bashaw if he had lost his senses. The latter, in a fury, struck his officer with his drawn sabre. The fracas began again and had nearly reached its former heat when General Eaton seized Hamet by the arm and drew him away from his people.
"Can it be," the general exclaimed, "that you have forgotten who your true friends are, and where your interests lie?"
Hamet melted. He called the general his protector and friend; lamented that he lost his temper so easily, and ordered the Arabs to disperse.
General Eaton agreed to issue a ration of rice if the Bashaw promised march would be resumed early the next morning. This pledge was made and peace returned. Then we saw a sorry sight. At least two of the white men had acted like cowards and had hidden themselves among the tents. They now came slinking forth to stammer excuses that, you may be sure, were received stonily by us. We again went forward, but after we had marched twenty-five miles our rice became exhausted, and we were now without rations.
With starvation threatening us, Hamet killed a camel, and also gave one in exchange for sheep, that were also slaughtered. The meat, however, had to be eaten without bread or salt. As we went on the hunger increased, and we saw the Arabs searching the plain for roots and vegetable substances on which they might subsist. A water famine was almost always with us. At one time we were obliged to drink from a cistern in which we had found the bodies of two murdered Arabs.
For the first time in my life I realized the meaning of such passages of Scripture as:
"The Lord is my Shepherd. I shall not want.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures;
He leadeth me beside the still waters."
While facing yet another insurrection, this time of the gunners, a courier arrived from Bomba with the news that our ships were off both that place and Derne. This gave us new strength and courage and ended the mutiny, and so at last we came to Bomba.
There, however, we found that the vessel that had been seen had departed. The fat was in the fire again, with the Arabs abusing us as impostors and infidels and threatening to leave us, if they did nothing worse.
But oh, the resourcefulness of our general! Withdrawing with the Christians to a high hill nearby, he ordered that a huge fire be kept burning on its crest all night; the next morning as the Turks and Arabs were scattering, to go to their homes, when the end of the expedition seemed indeed to be in sight, we saw from the top of the hill a sail. The United States' ship Argus, with Captain Hull in command was approaching. The next day the sloop Hornet arrived, laden with provisions. We then refreshed ourselves and our famished army, and unloaded from the Hornet the provisions necessary to feed us on the march to Derne.
The worst of the journey was over. We were approaching cultivated land. To keep the inhabitants from becoming hostile to us the Bashaw sent a herald through the camp to cry:
"He who fears God and feels attachment to Hamet Bashaw will be careful to destroy nothing. Let no one touch the growing harvest. He who transgresses shall lose his right hand!"
I now heard shrieks from the tent that sheltered the girl we had rescued by purchase from the Arabs. I saw two camels standing beside the tent, held by a young Arab who looked towards us furtively. It flashed across my mind that the young sheik whom I had suspected of an intention to add the girl to his household had seized upon the moment when we were engaged in putting down a rebellion to kidnap the girl. I rushed to the tent, followed by an Arab lad Mustapha, who also came from the girl's village, and who had shown an humble devotion to her by daily giving to the negress for the maiden a share of his ration of dates.
As we reached the door of the tent the sheik emerged with the girl in his arms. I jabbed the point of my pistol into his face while Mustapha plunged earthward in an effort to stay his strides toward the camels. The lad's attack was so vigorous that the sheik sprawled face downward into the sand, while the girl, released by his stumble, fell into my arms for support.
She was pale with terror and leaned against me like a broken lily. General Eaton, having pacified Hamet and his supporters, came dashing between me and the kidnapper, who had seized his knife and risen to his feet. I still menaced him with my pistol, but the general forbade me to fire.
"He richly deserves death," he whispered, taking in at a glance the situation, "but to fire a shot would cause a general battle and the defeat of our plans." He then turned to the scowling chief.
"Mount your camel and go," he said. "Hamet Bashaw wants no one in his ranks who, under pretense of loyalty to a cause, comes to steal a girl who despises him."
The Arab, without replying, mounted his camel and rode away with his attendant. We saw a small group detach themselves from the main body and follow him.
"A good riddance!" the general muttered. Then, seeing Mustapha, he delighted the youth by saying, "You, my boy, are worth a hundred such fellows!"
The Nubian woman, who had been choked into insensibility, now staggered out of the tent and relieved me of my burden—one that I was none too glad to surrender.
The girl murmured something to me in Arabic as she re-entered the tent, including Mustapha in her glance. I looked at him questioningly.
"She said," the lad explained, "that her heart is overflowing with gratitude to you and myself for rescuing her."
General Eaton ordered that the maiden's tent be continually guarded after that. I managed to be selected for sentinel duty more often than anyone else. Mustapha also stood guard with me. The girl sat in the door of her tent looking up to the stars. With Mustapha interpreting, we chatted. I told her about America and Baltimore and assured her that once she was out of the desert, a happy life would open for her. She asked shy questions about the girls of the United States—what they wore; how they occupied themselves. I heard her and the Nubian woman laughing when I said, rather abruptly, that I had not paid attention to the looks and habits of girls at home. I taught her a few words of English—"America," "ship," "friend," "good morning," and "good night."
When we reached Derne, a few days after the encounter I have described took place, the girl went aboard one of the American warships. The last I saw of her was when she stepped timidly into a cutter, assisted by General Eaton. I stood on the shore watching. I saw her glancing back at the shore and I am sure I saw a motion of her hand in response to my furious waving. From that hour I began thinking of home more than I had ever thought of it before. And Mustapha and I, when we walked back to our tents, never spoke a word to each other the whole way.