The Way of the Spirit

THE WAY OF THE SPIRIT

The soldiers, who were all of them brave men, answered that it was so, they were few, still they would fight and try to beat off these Arabs. Only Abdullah looked downcast, and added that this trouble came upon them through the women, and that it would have been good to give them to Ibrahim.

“Would you think so if they were your wives or daughters?” asked Rupert scornfully. “How could I surrender them who had eaten of my bread and salt? Also they have gone. But if you are afraid, Abdullah, do you take a camel and follow them. The rest of us will hold the pass and give you time to get away.”

Now some of the servants began to mock Abdullah and to call him “woman” and “coward.”

So the man grew ashamed and said that he would show them that he was as brave as they.

Then a rifle bullet, evidently aimed at Rupert, who was standing up to address the soldiers, whistled past his head and flatted on the rock behind. The fight had begun.

Rupert saw the man who had fired the shot from the back of his camel about two hundred yards away, for the smoke hung over him. Snatching up the Winchester repeating rifle which he carried, he set the sight rapidly, aimed and fired. He was an excellent game and target shot, nor did his skill fail him now. Almost instantly they heard the clap of a bullet and saw the Arab – it was that very sentry with whom they had spoken at the Sweet Wells – throw up his arms and pitch heavily from the saddle to the ground.

The soldiers shouted, thinking this a good omen, and at once opened fire, killing or wounding several of their enemies,

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CHAPTER XIII

THE END OF THE FIGHT

Now during all these weary hours Rupert had been taking counsel with himself. He was skilled in Arab warfare, and guessed that Ibrahim’s plan was not to attempt to rush him in the daylight, which at best would cost him many more men and might mean defeat, but to get among his little band with the spear under cover of night, or perhaps just at the break of dawn. Utterly outnumbered as they were, to such a move as this there could be but one end – annihilation. It was, however, possible that it would not be made; that the Arabs would be content to continue their present tactics, knowing that Rupert had no hope of succour, and that soon or late thirst must conquer him. Therefore it would seem that he was driven to choose between two alternatives – surrender or retreat. He gathered his men together and addressed them through the darkness, not hiding from them how desperate he thought their plight.

Under the circumstances, he said, if they wished to surrender he would not forbid them, only then he believed that whatever promises were made, they would all be killed, or at the best taken away and sold as slaves to the Khalifa, or his

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emirs, with whom, doubtless, Ibrahim was in league. For himself, however, he should certainly not surrender, but choosing the best place he could find, fight on till he was killed like Gordon.

With one voice the soldiers said they would not suffer this; their business was to die with their captain, not desert him: they were Soudanese and men, not Fellaheen.

He thanked them simply, and put before them the second alternative – that of retreat. The pass behind them was open, though none of them had ever travelled it, and a map he had showed a water-hole about some thirty miles away in the desert beyond, which they might reach. Or failing that, when they were clear of the pass they could turn and skirt along the mountains, taking their chance of water and of safety. Or they could try to cut their way back to Wadi-Halfa, a thing however that seemed hopeless, since if they got through, they would be overtaken, surrounded and picked off in the open desert.

Having discussed the matter among themselves the men announced their decision that flight was best. For the rest, they said, they resigned themselves to ek Mektub which means “to that which is written”; or in other words, to Destiny. Then Rupert called the roll to see that all were present. Two did not answer to their names – the dead man and the sergeant Abdullah. At first it was thought that the latter had been killed also, till someone remembered that early in the afternoon he had gone to tend and feed the camels, since when he had not been seen. Afterwards it was discovered that, anticipating his commander’s plan, he had already retreated – with the best camel – an act of cowardice which, it will be seen,

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produced very grave results to Rupert, and indeed profoundly influenced his subsequent career. For here it may be said at once that Abdullah got back to the Nile in safety by skirting round the mountains, and needless to add, made his own report to the authorities, which, as it happened, there was no one to contradict.

Now, their counsel taken, the little band set themselves to carry it out as best they could without delay, since they knew not at what moment the attack might be delivered. First they built a fire of whatever material they could collect and lit it, so as to suggest to the Arabs that they remained in camp there. Also, having said the prayers for the dead over him, they set their fallen companion behind a stone, above which one hand and his rifle projected, in such a position that the light of the fire fell upon them. Two of the worst camels also they left behind, that their roaring might deceive the enemy into the belief that the caravan had not moved. This done they started as noiselessly as possible, only to find that their task was more difficult even than they thought.

The moon not being up, the darkness in that narrow gorge was intense; moreover, the pass was strewn with boulders and pitted with holes washed out by water, in one of which a camel soon broke its leg and had to be killed with a knife and left with its valuable load. Not half a mile further on another camel fell over a bank or precipice – they could not tell which – and vanished, while a man twisted his ankle, and a second, stumbling, struck his forehead against a stone and cut it badly. After this Rupert ordered a halt till the moon rose since to proceed was practically impossible. At length the moon came,

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but the sky was cloudy, also she was on the wane; so they found themselves but little better off in that deep gulf. Still they struggled on, praying for daylight, and taking comfort from the thought that if the Arabs followed, matters would be equally bad for them.

The sky turned grey, the dawn broke, and then with the startling suddenness that will be familiar to all travellers in the Egyptian desert, the sun rose, and by its light they pushed forward. For a mile or so all went well till they came to a place where the pass opened out, and its sides, no longer precipitous, were clothed with scrub and boulders. Then suddenly from behind one of these boulders rang out a rifle shot. A few yards ahead, in the centre of the valley, was a little hill or kopje, also boulder-strewn, and understanding at once what had happened, namely, that the Arabs, foreseeing this retreat, probably on the previous afternoon, had sent most of their force over the mountains to waylay them, Rupert shouted to his band to make for this kopje and hold it.

They did so under a fierce fire, but as the Arab shooting was bad and the mist still hung at the bottom of the valley, without much loss. On the kopje were two or three of the enemy’s marksmen whom they dislodged and killed. Then taking the best positions they could find, the little company prepared itself to inflict all the damage it could upon its foes before it met its inevitable doom. Although a man fell now and again this was delayed for several hours, until at length the rest of the Arabs, who had followed them down the pass, arrived.

Then came the last bitter struggle. Such things sound heroic to tell of – the forlorn stands of the few against the many

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always do – but in practice they are only dreadful; the glory is naught but a residuum deposited in the cauldrons of their sanguinary and seething horror by the powerful precipitants of distance, romance, and time.

Thus this last desperate fight of a few wearied men against many may be noble to read of, but in fact it was merely hideous. Brave things were done by these black Soudanese, who, if they are well led and trust their leader, will not surrender with a loss of about five per cent. in killed and wounded; indeed surrender was talked of no more. But though it was emphasised thereby, who could think of gallantry when a man shot through the bowels lay writhing on the ground beside him, cursing and praying by turns, but still loading his gun, and, in the pauses of his paroxysms, bringing other men to their death. When the tongue is hanging from the jaws with thirst, when the brows throb with fatigue and pain, and the heart is well-nigh bursting with rage, grief, for those who will be seen no more, and apprehensions of the dreadful end, who can think of the cup and chaplets of fame, and the empty trappings of honour?

At least Rupert could not. He fought on grimly; he did his best. Two rushes he repelled, for now that their fire slackened, the Arabs were trying to make an end of them with the spear. In the intervals that followed these rushes Rupert thought of Edith. He wondered what she was doing, and remembered that without doubt she would be comfortably in bed and asleep, dreaming no dreams of him and his sore plight. He wondered if when he died, as he must do in a few minutes, it would wake her, or whether she would still sleep on as his spirit passed.

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Then he remembered the other woman, that strange, highbred native girl, and it came into his mind that she would wake however sound she slept, and that there would be vengeance taken for this death of his, the wild vengeance of the desert. Next he forgot all such things, and shook a dying comrade by the hand.

“Kismet!” said the man, with a ghastly smile, “and we have killed more of them than they can kill of us. The water of the Sweet Wells will be bitter for a while. Allah is good and Paradise pleasant. Are you hurt, Bey?”

“Not yet,” he answered; “but wait, I come presently. Ah! that got him fair.”

“No, don’t come,” answered the man, “live on if you may. He who lives long sees much, and amongst other things, vengeance on his enemies. Live on, and you will see the sheik Ibrahim hanging to the bough of a thorn.”

Then the soldier grunted, rolled on to his face, and was dead.

* * *

Puffs of smoke spurted from behind rocks; spears shone in the sunlight; hoarse voices announced the fact which nobody contradicted – that Allah was great and Mahomet was his prophet; here and there men fell forward or backward, still declaring that Allah was great, and instantly departed from the body to put the argument to the proof. Blood ran in thin, black streams, and was soaked up by the thankful soil; men died beneath the hands of their fellow-men as in this devilridden world they have done from the beginning, and will do till the end. Untouched by some miracle, Rupert still fought

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on. His rifle was empty; a tall, bearded Arab had fallen before its last shot. Then quite close to him he saw Ibrahim, and remembering his revolver, drew it, when suddenly a heavy blow from behind felled him to the ground.

Rupert came to himself again, and by degrees understood dimly that he was not dead, since he lay where he had fallen, and all about him were slain and wounded men. Near by, also, stood two of his own people, captives, with their hands tied behind them. The sheik Ibrahim was questioning them, promising them life if they would tell him where they had hidden away the gipsy Bakhita and her companion, the lady Mea. They answered that they accepted his terms, and would do so with pleasure. They were hidden in the desert, whither they had departed before the beginning of the fight, so if he wanted them he had best go look for them there.

This answer seemed to infuriate the sheik, who called to some of his people to kill “these dogs.” They came, whereon the two men, putting down their heads, butted at them like rams, and knocking one of them down, jumped and trampled on his face until the cruel swords did their work with them and they died there. Then the wounded were killed also, so that presently, of all his company, Rupert alone was left alive.

Now they caught hold of him and asked him questions about the women, but he pretended not to be able to speak because of thirst, pointing to his throat and mouth. The artifice succeeded, for they brought him water, of which he stood in terrible need. The bowl was large, but he emptied all of it, and felt his life come back to him. Now Ibrahim addressed him.

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“Dog of an unbeliever,” he said, “you see that your cunning and courage have not availed against the decrees of Allah who has destroyed all your band!”

“It is so,” answered Rupert; “but he seems to have destroyed many of yours also. Here I count over twenty of your dead, and thirty wounded. Allah is just, and takes life for life.”

“Blaspheme not, dog! Of Allah I will speak to you afterwards. Tell me – where are the women?”

“Those brave men whom you murdered after promising them their lives have told you; they are in the desert. Go; search for them there. Come; I tire of this talk. Murder me also, and begone to meet the doom that God prepares in this world and the next for the traitor and the liar.”

“You wish to die, then?” asked Ibrahim, lifting his spear. “Aye; why not? My people are slaughtered; I would join

them. Also, I must make report of you and your deeds, and prepare you a place.”

The Arab dropped his spear; Rupert’s words seemed to frighten him.

“Not yet, nor so swiftly,” he said. “Bind him and put him on a camel. He shall see us catch these women, and after that we will judge him according to the law.”

So they tied Rupert with ropes, and set him on his own dromedary. Presently he started forward with the Arabs – about forty of them. The rest were either dead or wounded, or had been left to convey the latter and the rich booty, including the thousand pounds in gold, back to the Sweet Wells. At the mouth of the pass, a few miles further on, they searched, and in some soft soil found the spoor of the camels ridden by

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