“Sir, you can lay a handful of beans on the backs of any of them, and not one will fall off, no matter how fast they gallop.”
“If he’s exaggerating he at least does it in true Arab style,” said Mr. Tarkowski, laughing.
“Or in Sudanese style,” added Mr. Rawlison.
Meanwhile Idris and Gebhr still stood there like two white posts and carefully surveyed Stasch and Nell. The moonlight illuminated the faces of the two sand-drivers and made them look as if carved out of bronze. The whites of their eyes looked greenish from beneath their turbans.
“Good-night,” said Mr. Rawlison.
“May Allah protect you by day and by night, effendi!”
At these words they bowed and departed. Saba was evidently not pleased with the two Sudanese, and as they left he sent a deep, thunderous growl after them.
CHAPTER V
For some days following they made no excursions. But to compensate for this, when the first star appeared on Christmas night Mr. Rawlison’s tent was illuminated with hundreds of lights burning on the little Christmas-tree for Nell. The customary fir-tree had been replaced by a salpiglossis plant cut out of a garden in Medinet, but nevertheless Nell found among its branches a quantity of dainties to eat, and a beautiful doll, which her father had bought for her in Cairo. Stasch received from his father the much-longed-for English gun, besides cartridges, hunting paraphernalia, and a riding-saddle.
Nell was beside herself with joy, and Stasch, although imagining that any one owning a real gun should be correspondingly sedate, could not keep away from it, and choosing a moment when everything was quiet around the tent, he walked about on his hands. He was especially clever in performing this feat, which he had often practised at school in Port Said, and he sometimes did it to entertain Nell, who envied him his skill.