"This morning we went once more on board our vessel, which had kept moving all night, and awaited us at Chendi. This place recalls many an ancient glory; it was, they say, the famous island of Meröe of old, a powerful state of which even Thebes was a tributary. All this splendour belongs to the past, but Chendi, anxious still to be talked about, has for a long time been a slave depôt.
"Our vessel now lands us on the other side of the stream, the left bank, at a place far less ancient, in which the houses are crowded together without any regularity or design, very much like ant hills, but thickly inhabited and often visited by slave and ivory merchants; it is called Matamma. Still under the charm of our last evening's excursion, we not only make an inspection of the town on horseback, but we venture as far as the edge of the famous desert of Bahiouda, of which, up to the present time, we had only seen the undulations from the deck of our vessel. This excursion led to an adventure, a very dramatic incident, which made a great impression upon me, and will, I feel sure, have a similar effect upon you."
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
"What induced us, I wonder, to venture thus into the open desert? Instead of galloping straight ahead it would have been more according to reason to follow the banks of the Nile and continue on our way towards Khartoum.
"Périères and Delange, recalling their sensations when in pursuit of the Nomads in the valley of El-Hejaz, doubtless longed for another taste of the desert. They set off at full speed, and we followed them without, or, rather, after reflection, to see if we in our turn could enjoy those sensations, whose praises they have so continually sung. Miss Poles, as usual, was actuated by her amour propre; she wished to appear and be admired as a horsewoman, and I am bound to confess that, if she did ride in a most break-neck and ungraceful fashion, she was at all events very firm in her saddle and intrepid to a degree.
"Very soon our guides begged us to moderate both our speed and our ardour. We obeyed, under protest, for we had lost all consciousness of time and distance, and we did not think we were as far from Matamma as they pretended we were. Omar, in self-defence, called on us to observe that we were on the direct route of the caravans, and, in support of his assertion, he pointed out to us, in the distance, a long brown streak which stood out in strong contrast against the sun-illumined yellow of the sand and the clear, blue sky.
"'What is that?' asked Madame de Guéran. 'A town or a hillock?'
"'A cloud, more likely,' remarked Périères. 'It is not stationary, but moves in one direction.'
"'It is neither a hill nor a cloud,' replied the interpreter. 'That shadow on the horizon is produced by a long caravan coming from Kordofan, and making its way to Nubia across the desert of Bahiouda.'
"'And it is a caravan of slaves,' added the second interpreter.