Stasch not only protected her, but he intentionally treated her with a reverence the depth of which he did not realize, notwithstanding his unusual attachment for the little one. He noticed that the Arabs also caught this attitude, and that it unconsciously strengthened their conviction that they were carrying along something exceedingly precious, an especially important prisoner, whom they had to treat most carefully. Idris had accustomed them to this before leaving Medinet, and so they all behaved well toward her. They gave her plenty of water and dates. The cruel Gebhr dared not raise his hand against her again. Perhaps the unusual beauty of the girl, and the fact that she looked somewhat like a flower or a little bird, had its effect, for even the savage and uncultivated hearts of the Arabs could not resist her charm. Sometimes, also, at the halting-places, when she stood around the fire made of Jericho roses, colored with the red light from the flames and the silvery light from the moon, the Sudanese and the Bedouins could not take their eyes off her, but murmured, according to their custom, smacking their lips as a sign of admiration:
“Allah! Maschallah! Bismillah!”
At noon the second day, after traveling that long stretch, Stasch and Nell, who were now riding on the same camel, had a moment of intense joy. Immediately after sunrise a clear and transparent mist, which, however, soon disappeared, hovered over the desert. But when the sun rose higher the heat became greater than on the previous days. When the camels stood still for a moment there was not a breath of wind stirring, so that the air, as well as the sand, appeared to slumber in heat, light, and silence. The caravan had just reached a large level plain, unbroken by ravines, when suddenly a wonderful sight presented itself before the children. Groups of slim palms and pepper-trees, orange plantations, white houses, a small mosque with a towering minaret and broad walls, surrounded by gardens, appeared so plainly and so close to them that it seemed as though the caravan would be under the trees of an oasis in half an hour.
“What is that?” cried Stasch. “Nell! Nell! Look!”
As Nell raised up she was struck dumb with surprise, but soon after she cried out with joy:
“Medinet! To papa! To papa!”
But Stasch became pale with emotion.
“In fact—that may be Chargeh. But no! It must be Medinet. I remember the minaret and I even see the windmill on the well.”
And in reality in the distance were distinctly seen the tall windmills of American wells, resembling large white stars. These stood out so clearly on the green background of the trees that Stasch’s sharp eye could discern the red-painted edges of the spokes of the windmills.
“That is Medinet!”