The Egyptians in the country usually tame many of these pigeons, and build them little houses to live in on the side of their own, and sometimes one will see a big mud tower in the village where hundreds of these pigeons live and build their nests.
In the midst of the dispute a tall man with an ugly, scowling face strode up with a stick, so, thinking things were getting too hot for them, our little friends turned and fled toward the village, Nabul, however, triumphantly holding on to the pigeon.
The other hunting party had brought back a big bag of birds and were well pleased with the day's work.
The next day they were to take leave of their kind hosts and go back to the Isis. When George awakened in the early morning, such a wailing met his ears he could only imagine that some one must be dead. Throwing on his clothes he rushed down the short flight of steps that led from his room to the big room on the ground floor and from there into the yard. There he saw Nabul lying face downward on the ground beside the stable door, with his sisters sitting beside him rocking themselves backwards and forwards and wailing piteously, while Abdal and the older people rushed wildly about all talking at once.
"What is the matter? Nabul, are you hurt?" cried George, rushing up to the little group.
"Teddy Pasha is gone, some thief has stolen him," they all cried in one breath.
It was only too true, the little donkey had mysteriously disappeared in the night. Nabul had got up early to get the Pasha ready for their return to the boat. He had found the little donkey gone, as well as his bridle and saddle; Nabul had been looking for him ever since and had just come back broken-hearted.
"Oh, Nabul, we are sure to find him! Come and we will all look," cried George, nearly ready to cry himself,—he had grown really attached to his little steed.