All was ready for departure, and the harem was already embarked, when an officer from the Viceroy came to Delì Pasha and told him that his Highness wished him to remain a few days to attend a council on some matters of importance. “He knows,” added the officer, “that you are on the point of departure, and part of your family already embarked, wherefore he desires that you will not take the trouble to detain them, but let them go leisurely on their journey, retaining two or three servants to attend upon you. When the council is over, his Highness will give you a swift canjah of his own, which will bring you to Siout as soon as your large heavy dahabiahs.”
“On my head be it,” replied Delì Pasha. And having retained only a few Mamelukes for the service of his wardrobe and chibouq, he desired his own boats to go forward as originally designed, placing the kateb-es-serr, or chief secretary (a quiet, respectable, and elderly Turk), in charge of the leading dahabiah, and in command of those whom she contained. To Ahmed Aga and Hassan he said, “I know that I can trust my boats and harem to your vigilance at night; there are many thieves in Upper Egypt, so you must not indulge in more than a hare’s sleep.”[[95]]
Under these instructions the dahabiahs started on their voyage northward, and pursued it without accident or interruption until they reached a point of the river not more than twenty miles below Siout. Night was coming on, a strong gale of wind from the eastward had set in, which, in spite of all the exertions of the pilots and sailors, drove the dahabiahs against the west bank of the Nile, where the current was running with terrific violence, and the waves dashed over the low sides of the boats.
Fearful of being carried down by the stream, the ràises ordered the men to jump out ashore and make fast the boats with the anchors, and also by ropes passed round sharp staves driven into the ground. With the leading boat the manœuvre succeeded, and she was brought to in a bight of the bank, where she was in comparatively smooth and sheltered water; but the boat containing the harem broke from her moorings, and in spite of all the exertions of her crew hauling on her from the shore, she was carried some way along the rough and jagged bank, thereby scraping off her cabin paint and terrifying the timid inmates.
Suddenly she came against some broken timbers of an old disused sakìah or water-wheel, which smashed in all the cabin windows on the land side, shivering in pieces the Venetian blinds and tearing the damask curtains in shreds. Immediately all was panic on board the boat, and the affrighted eunuchs and women, thinking that the cabin would be flooded, rushed on to the upper deck, which was entirely deserted by the crew, who were busily employed forward in endeavouring to bring the boat to. All were pulling, and hauling, and shouting, and ordering; but no one was listening or obeying. The consequence was that their exertions, without direction or unity, were fruitless, and the boat continued to drift down, still grating her sides against the high and jagged bank.
Among the affrighted women assembled on what we may call the poop, Amina and her faithful Fatimeh had withdrawn quite to the stern of the boat, the place usually occupied by the steersman, where the former sat herself down on a hen-coop and looked out in terror on the dark and turbid waters, when suddenly the tiller, which had been left unsecured, swept across the deck with such force that it threw Amina and her hen-coop overboard, at the same time knocking down and stunning Fatimeh Khanum, who fell against the low railing that surrounds the poop.
At the time Hassan and Ahmed Aga were some hundred yards astern of the boats, followed by their own men and by a dozen fellahs whom they had brought from the nearest village as night-watchers. Hearing the shouts and cries ahead, they conjectured that some accident had happened, though they could not see any distant object, as the dusk of evening was darkened by a gloomy sky and the dust borne on the wings of the angry blast. Suddenly a faint cry from the water reached the ear of Hassan, and turning his eyes in the direction whence it came, he thought he descried something like drapery hurried along by the current about fifty yards from the shore.
Quick as thought he sprang from his horse, cast his cloak on the ground, threw his pistols on it, and crying to Ahmed, “Wallah! there is a woman or child drowning,” plunged head-foremost into the dark and boiling waters.
Ahmed Aga, who had seen no object in the water and heard no cry, thought that his young friend must be mad. Nevertheless, he could not help admiring the daring gallantry which prompted him to brave the roaring rushing waters on such a night with the hope of rescuing a fellow-creature, but he had no time left for musing, for the cries and shouts continued to rise from the dahabiah, and his duty bade him hasten thither without delay.
Ordering one of his men to secure Hassan’s horse, cloak, and pistols, he went forward, and by the aid of his own presence of mind, and the force that he brought with him, succeeded at last in securing the dahabiah to the bank. It was not until order was somewhat restored, and the eunuchs went up on the poop to reconduct the ladies and women slaves to the cabin, that they found Fatimeh Khanum lying half-stunned, and her head still confused by the blow from the tiller. Amina was nowhere to be found. The cries and confusion thence ensuing can be more easily imagined than described.