“Then see how gratitude flows from my heart like a very cataract,” answered the other, with downcast eyes. “It is little that Kāra can do to repay such brotherly love; but the great sheik must distribute for me ten thousand piastres to his worthy poor, even on that day when my enemies are confounded.”
Antar’s brow was thoughtful. A great payment meant a great service.
“My brother will tell me a story,” said he, “and I will listen.”
Thereupon, in the flowery language of Arabia, which English words but feebly translate, the Egyptian told of a boat steaming slowly up the Nile and bearing his enemies toward the villages of Beni-Hassan. He described the women and the men, and noticed that the sheik grunted with discouraging emphasis when Winston Bey’s name was mentioned. Then, following out the idea of relating a tale, Kāra told how his brother, the mighty sheik Antar, fell upon the dahabeah and captured it, turning over all the passengers and crew to Kāra except one—Tadros the dragoman being unfortunately killed and dropped overboard to find a final resting-place in the mud at the river’s bottom. Then Winston’s crew was replaced by six strong men of Beni-Hassan, who obeyed Kāra’s commands as willingly as if they proceeded from Antar himself. And Kāra afterward steamed up the Nile to Fedah, with the sheik on board, and at Fedah gave to him not only the ten thousand piastres for his poor, but many gems of fabulous worth for his personal adornment and that of his women.
Was it not a pretty story? he concluded, and did it not sound like a prophecy in Antar’s discerning ears?
The sheik considered long and earnestly. He did not like meddling with Winston Bey, whom he knew of old and respected highly; but Kāra’s allusion to the gems was irresistible, and Antar might discover a way to keep from being recognized by the scientist.
It required several hours to conclude the bargain, but at last both men thoroughly understood the details of the service that was required and must be rendered. The assault upon the dahabeah was discussed and planned, and the terms of payment agreed upon. The killing of Tadros was an incident that the sheik accepted without demur.
With two clever rascals such as the Egyptian and the Arab in charge of the raid, there seemed little hope that Winston Bey’s unsuspecting party could escape absolute destruction.
CHAPTER XXI.
LOTUS-EATERS AND CROCODILES.
If in all the realm of travel there is a voyage that is absolutely ideal, it is the trip up the Nile. The constant change of scene, varying with every bend in the river; the shifting lights, the gentle ripple of the waters, the distant songs and shouts of the native boatmen; the outlines of the Libyan hills by moonlight and the rocky wastes of desert, dotted with gorgeous crimson and yellow cacti, by day; the sunsets that paint the cloudless Egyptian skies with entrancing splendor, and the silhouettes of donkey and camel trains above the high embankment at twilight; these, taken in connection with the care-free, lotus-eating existence of the voyager, leave an impression so vivid and sweet and altogether satisfactory that no other experience in the whole world of travel can compare with or ever efface it from one’s memory.