I groaned in spirit at the necessity, but I tore a leaf from my notebook and with my fountain pen wrote the agreement. Uncle Naboth and the Professor added their signatures to mine. It was a great sum in Egypt, this fifteen hundred dollars, and we had promised not to hold Gege-Merak responsible if any of us lost our lives in the venture. But the Professor assured us we had won a powerful ally and that the investment was warranted by our necessity.
I gave the Bega chief the paper, which I felt sure he could not read, and counted out our remaining twenty pounds upon the mat. Thereupon he spoke to the girl in his native tongue, for the Bega have a language of their own, although they usually speak a hybrid Arabic. She leaned forward, calmly gathered up the money in her scarf, arose and left the room by the dark passage. She was tall for her age and moved with grace and dignity.
“At daybreak,” said Gege-Merak, “the caravan will be ready to start. I shall go with you. To-night my brothers will sleep in a house prepared for you. Ketti will lead you to it.”
The young warrior who had guided us to the village from Koser now came forward and bowed to us respectfully. We nodded farewell to the chief and followed Ketti to a large house of one bare room, where our entire party shortly assembled. Bry had already brought out his pots and pans and soon a good supper was ready for us. Appetites are keen upon the desert, and the evening was already well advanced when we had finished the repast. Soon after, tired by our first day of camel riding, we rolled ourselves in our blankets and fell asleep.
I was roused even before daybreak by the noise and shouting in the village. Every inhabitant seemed astir and in a state of wild excitement, yet there was nothing for our party to do but fold our blankets and eat the breakfast our black cook quickly served us. At first we stumbled around blindly in the gloom, but gradually the sky grew lighter, until suddenly the first red beams of the sun shot over the edge of the desert. Beside the well and just in front of the chief’s house the camels were assembled, all bridled and saddled and ready for the journey. We took the beasts assigned us and mounted to our places while the obedient creatures knelt to receive their burdens. The entire population of the village stood around, silent now, but observant, to watch the start.
When we were ready I noticed that two of the camels still knelt awaiting their riders. They bore gorgeous trappings, the saddles being studded with brass and silver ornaments. The delay was brief, for soon the little old chief came from his house, followed by the girl we had seen the night before.
I had wondered how Gege-Merak, who had seemed to be nothing more than a withered, dried-up mummy, could by any possibility be able to lead the caravan in person; but now, to my surprise, he advanced with swift steps, agile and light as the tread of a panther, and seated himself upon his kneeling camel. His one bright eye roved over the assembled villagers, who all prostrated themselves an instant before resuming their former upright positions. The chief was clad in the same bright colored burnous he had worn the night before. An old-fashioned pistol was stuck in his sash and at his side hung a Turkish cimetar with a jeweled handle. When his camel had risen to its feet Gege-Merak made a brief speech to the villagers and gave the signal to start.
The girl, meantime, had quietly mounted the other camel and taken her place beside the chief. No one saluted her or seemed to notice her presence, yet to me she was scarcely less interesting than her aged companion. The Bega women were numerous in the village, were generally good looking and bold in their demeanor, yet the warriors seemed to make a point of disregarding them altogether, as if the sex was wholly unworthy of masculine attention. It seemed to be a Bega characteristic and partly explained why the chief’s companion was so generally ignored, but I was curious to know something of the girl who was to accompany us. So as we rode slowly away from the oasis I asked Ketti, who was near me, who she was.
“Gege-Merak’s grandchild,” was the answer, and I thought the young warrior’s eyes rested for an instant upon the young girl with a gleam of admiration.
“Will she succeed the chief, when he dies?” I inquired.