“Then, my mother, I am going with my father to Africa!”
“To Africa, child! To Africa! Where is that? Thou dost not mean the mainland, surely?”
“Yes, I mean far away into the interior of the mainland,” replied Selim, still looking at his mother smilingly.
“To the interior of Africa!” cried the poor woman in dismay, her face assuming the hue of sickness. “Why, what can thy father want in Africa?—he was never there before. What can he want there now?”
“He is going to Africa with Khamis bin Abdullah, Sheikhs Mohammed, Thani, Mussoud, Sultan, Amran, Hamdan, and many others, to a far country called Rua, to buy ivory and slaves, and come back rich.”
“Going to Africa! To get rich! Oh, Allah!” cried out Amina, in accents of unfeigned surprise, mixed with emotion. “And thou art going with him—thou, a child? Art thou going to get rich too?”
“I am to accompany my father and kinsmen, not to get rich, but to see the world, and learn how to be a man, to shoot lions, and leopards, zebras, and elephants, with my new English gun.”
“Cease thy prating, child; thy tongue runs at a fearful rate. Thou shoot lions and leopards! Thou! Why thou art but a baby, but lately weaned! Thou and thy father must be dreaming!” said Amina sharply, and with an attempt at a sneer.
It was a brave attempt on the part of a nearly heart-broken woman, who would fain suppress the cry of anguish that struggled to her lips, but as she said the last words, one glance at Selim’s face showed to her that such tactics, would never answer. The eaglet had been taught that wings were made to fly with. The boy had been rudely laughed at, and his latent manliness aroused, by the son of the American consul, who had sneered at him. Selim had found that a head was on his shoulders which teemed with daring thoughts; that he had arms to his shoulders, and legs to his body, made on purpose, as it were, to execute such thoughts as the head conceived. With the culmination of such knowledge fled unregretfully the pleasant days of the harem, the memories of his romps with the girls, days upon days of effeminate life.
Achilles was found out by the sight which he obtained of some war weapons. Selim had found out that he was a boy by a sneer. Charming as was his mother’s company, happy as he had been with his feminine playmates, proud as he had been of his golden tassels and embroidery, fond as he had been of being loved and embraced as an entertaining young friend by little girls of his own age—all these experiences became inane and stupid compared to the overpowering consciousness he felt that he was a boy, and might in time become a strong man. A man! perish all other thoughts and memories, feelings, and reminiscences save those which tend to lead him to the goal of manhood, which he has set himself to reach by a journey to Africa, to the land of cannibals and lions, leopards and elephants, to the land of adventure, undying fable, and song.