"Thus far we have escaped," said Naoum, as the two men stood on the rough untidy dahabîeh, gazing at the slowly receding town. "They will probably not attempt to follow us, but I don't, for one moment, think our troubles are over. We must keep a sharp look-out along the banks for the rebels."
"You think then we shall come across them again?" asked George, glancing keenly at the speaker.
"I don't only think—I feel sure. Alexandria will be in a worse state than Cairo, and it is certain the river will be watched carefully. We must anchor in the day-time and travel at night, that is our only hope."
The man's quiet words in no way deceived Helmar, he realized that there was great danger ahead, and it would require all their fortitude and resource to cope with it. This knowledge, rather than damping his spirits, tended to raise them, and he looked forward with keen anticipation to what the future might have in store for him.
The old dahabîeh was a dreary old craft, in a dirty and ruinous condition. It was carrying a heavy load of grain, and this made the journey so slow that, by sunrise, they were still within a distant view of Cairo.
Daylight entirely changed the aspect of their surroundings. The weird beauty of the moonlight on the water had led George to anticipate a glorious scene when morning broke, but disappointment awaited him. The banks of the river were low and uninviting; as for the beautiful tropical jungle he had expected to find, there was none to be seen—nothing out of the common, but the broad, muddy banks.
The heat was at its utmost, and the scourge of the Delta, the épizootie, had done its dread work. Annually this plague among the beasts plays havoc with the Nile, its surroundings and inhabitants. As the animals die of the disease, they are either left lying about on the banks to rot, decay, and pollute the air with devastating microbes, or are thrown into the water. It is then the hot sun does its work, and both the atmosphere and water become putrid.
All down the river from Cairo, George kept coming across the carcases of either buffaloes or oxen, and when they did not actually meet his eye, his nose detected their close proximity.
Life during the time was monotonous to a degree. In daylight when at anchor, the intense heat and smell caused sleep to be abandoned as far as Helmar was concerned. The watermen seemed able to put up with both, and stretched themselves out under any shelter, and slept as soundly on the bare planks as if they were on a feather bed.
Helmar and Naoum mainly occupied themselves with keeping watch, and as soon as the sun sank, the former took an hour or two's sleep.