In their journey up the Nile, in their excursions into the desert, they were often brought face to face with animal distress, caused by the wanton cruelty or carelessness of the Arabs, or the still more shameless callousness of the British tourist.
One morning they had been roused at daybreak by a piercing scream from a camel on the bank, and both had hurried ashore, to find a group of Arabs and one irate Englishman standing round a camel, that was kneeling on the ground and resisted all persuasions of the camel-driver's goad and the Britisher's boot to get up. It was screaming, crying and groaning by turns, appealing in every way it could to the pitiless crowd for help and mercy. Regina was white and trembling with sympathy, Everest unmoved outwardly, and determined, when they broke into the circle.
"Here, this tiresome beast won't get up," remarked the tourist. "At this rate I sha'n't get out and back before noon."
"It has a wound or a sore probably under the girth, which hurts when it rises," suggested Everest.
"I don't care what the devil's the matter with it," returned the other savagely, "as long as it'll get up and let me get on to it."
"Then you ought to care," replied Everest sternly; "it's people like you who encourage the camel-drivers to be cruel." And he added in Arabic: "Stand back, all of you!"
The crowd, impressed by the commanding figure and the set gravity of the face, all fell back, except the driver, who edged up behind him, and pulled at his sleeve.
"Don't you go near that camel, mister; he very dangerous beast, very savage; bad camel that, he bite."
Everest turned upon him, and said, as before, in Arabic: