We turn once more to the Nubian desert, where, it will be remembered, we left several of our friends, cut off from McNeill’s zereba at a critical moment when they were all but overwhelmed by a host of foes2.
The grand-looking Arab who had so opportunely3 appeared on the scene and arrested the spears which were about to finish the career of Jack4 Molloy was no other than the man who had been saved by Miles from the bullet of his comrade Rattling5 Bill. A kind act had in this case received its appropriate reward, for a brief though slight glance, and a gracious inclination6 of the Arab’s head, convinced our hero that the whole party owed their lives to this man’s gratitude7.
They were not however exempt8 from indignity9, for at the moment when Jack Molloy fell they were overwhelmed by numbers, their arms were wrenched10 from their grasp, and their hands were bound behind their backs. Thus they were led, the reverse of gently, into the thick bush by a strong party of natives, while the others, headed by the black-bearded chief, continued their attack on the zereba.
It soon became evident that the men who had charge of the prisoners did not share, or sympathise with, the feelings of the chief who had spared their lives, for they not only forced them to hurry forward as fast as they could go, but gave them occasional pricks11 with their spear-points when any of them chanced to trip or stumble. One of the warriors13 in particular—a fiery14 man—sometimes struck them with the shaft15 of his spear and otherwise maltreated them. It may be easily understood that men with unbroken spirits and high courage did not submit to this treatment with a good grace!
Miles was the first to be tested in this way. On reaching a piece of broken ground his foot caught in something and he stumbled forward. His hands being bound behind him he could not protect his head, and the result was that he plunged16 into a prickly shrub17, out of which he arose with flushed and bleeding countenance18. This was bad enough, but when the fiery Arab brought a lance down heavily on his shoulders his temper gave way, and he rushed at the man in a towering rage, striving at the same time, with intense violence, to burst his bonds. Of course he failed, and was rewarded by a blow on the head, which for a moment or two stunned19 him.
Seeing this, Armstrong’s power of restraint gave way, and he sprang to the rescue of his friend, but only to meet the same fate at the hands of the fiery Arab.
Stunned and bleeding, though not subdued20, they were compelled to move on again at the head of the party—spurred on now and then by a touch from the point of the fiery man’s lance. Indeed it seemed as if this man’s passionate22 nature would induce him ere long to risk his chief’s wrath23 by disobeying orders and stabbing the prisoners!
Stevenson, the marine25, was the next to suffer, for his foot slipped on a stone, and he fell with such violence as to be unable to rise for a few minutes. Impatient of the delay, the fiery man struck him so savagely26 with the spear-shaft that even his own comrades remonstrated27.
He stopped, for he felt that it was unmanly, as well as idle, to boast in the circumstances.
“We must have patience, comrade,” said Stevenson, as he rose pale and bloodstained from the ground. “Our Great Captain sometimes gives us the order to submit and suffer and—”
At this point the endurance of Jack Molloy failed him, and he also “went in” for violent action! But Jack was a genius as well as a sailor, and profited by the failures of his comrades. Instead of making futile31 efforts to break his bonds like them, he lowered his hairy head, and, with a howl and a tremendous rush, like a fish-torpedo, launched himself, or, as it were, took “a header,” into the fiery man!
“No fellow,” as Jack himself afterwards remarked, “could receive fifteen stone ten into his bread-basket and go on smiling!” On the contrary, he went down like a nine-pin, and remained where he fell, for his comrades—who evidently did not love him—merely laughed and went on their way, leaving him to revive at his leisure.
The prisoners advanced somewhat more cheerfully after this event, for, besides being freed from pricks of the spear-point, there was that feeling of elation32 which usually arises in every well-balanced mind from the sight of demerit meeting with its appropriate reward.
The region over which they were thus led, or driven, was rather more varied33 than the level country behind them, and towards evening it changed still further, becoming more decidedly hill-country. At night the party found themselves in the neighbourhood of one of the all-important wells of the land, beside which they encamped under a small tree.
Here the prisoners were allowed to sit down on the ground, with one man to guard them, while the others kindled34 a fire and otherwise arranged the encampment.
Supper—consisting of a small quantity of boiled corn and dried flesh—was given to the prisoners, whose hands were set free, though their elbows were loosely lashed35 together, and their feet tied to prevent their escape. No such idea, however, entered into the heads of any of them, for they were by that time in the heart of an unknown range of hills, in a country which swarmed36 with foes, besides which, they would not have known in what direction to fly had they been free to do so; they possessed37 neither arms, ammunition38, nor provisions, and were at the time greatly exhausted39 by their forced march.
Perhaps Jack Molloy was the only man of the unfortunate party who at that moment retained either the wish or the power to make a dash for freedom. But then Jack was an eccentric and exceptional man in every respect. Nothing could quell40 his spirit, and it was all but impossible to subdue21 his body. He was what we may term a composite character. His frame was a mixture of gutta-percha, leather, and brass42. His brain was a compound of vivid fancy and slow perception. His heart was a union of highly inflammable oil and deeply impressible butter, with something remarkably43 tough in the centre of it. Had he been a Red Indian he would have been a chief. If born a nigger he would have been a king. In the tenth century he might have been a Sea-king or something similar. Born as he was in the nineteenth century, he was only a Jack-tar and a hero!
It is safe to conclude that if Molloy had been set free that evening with a cutlass in his hand he would—after supper of course—have attacked single-handed the united band of forty Arabs, killed at least ten of them, and left the remaining thirty to mourn over their mangled44 bodies and the loss of numerous thumbs and noses, to say nothing of other wounds and bruises45.
Luckily for his comrades he was not free that night.
“Boys,” said he, after finishing his scanty46 meal, and resting on an elbow as he looked contemplatively up at the stars which were beginning to twinkle in the darkening sky, “it do seem to me, now that I’ve had time to think over it quietly, that our only chance o’ gittin’ out o’ this here scrape is to keep quiet, an’ pretend that we’re uncommon47 fond of our dear Arab friends, till we throws ’em off their guard, an’ then, some fine night, give ’em the slip an’ make sail across the desert for Suakim.”
“No doubt you’re right,” answered Miles, with a sigh, for, being tired and sleepy just then, he was not nearly as sanguine48 as the seaman49, “but I have not much hope of gaining their confidence—especially after your acting50 the thunderbolt so effectively on one of them.”
“Why, man alive! they won’t mind that. It was all in the way of fair fight,” said Molloy; “an’ the rascal51 was no favourite, I could see that.”
“It’s a wonder to me you could see anything at all after such a ram41!” remarked Moses Pyne, with a yawn, as he lay back and rested his head on a tuft of grass. “The shock seemed to me fit to sink an iron-clad.”
“But why pretend to be fond of the Arabs?” asked Stevenson. “Don’t you think it would be sufficient that we should obey orders quietly without any humbug52 or pretence53 at all about it, till a chance to escape shall come in our way?”
“Don’t you think, Stevenson,” said Miles, “that there’s a certain amount of humbug and pretence even in quiet obedience54 to orders, when such obedience is not the result of submission55, but of a desire to throw people off their guard?”
“But my obedience is the result of submission,” returned the marine stoutly57. “I do really submit—first, because it is God’s will, for I cannot help it; second, because it is the only course that will enable me to escape bad treatment; third, because I wish to gain the good-will of the men who have me in their power whether I escape or not; and, fourth—”
“Hallo! old man, how many heads are you goin’ to give us in that there sermon?” asked Moses.
“This is the last head, Moses, and you needn’t be anxious, for I ain’t going to enlarge on any of ’em. My fourth reason is, that by doing as common-sense bids me, our foes will be brought thereby58 to that state of mind which will be favourable59 to everything—our escape included—and I can’t help that, you know. It ain’t my fault if they become trustful, is it?”
“No, nor it ain’t no part o’ your dooty to spoil their trustfulness by failin’ to take advantage of it,” said Molloy, with a grin; “but it do seem to me, Stevenson, as if there wor a strong smack60 o’ the Jesuit in what you say.”
“I hope not,” replied the marine. “Anyhow, no one would expect me, surely, to go an’ say straight out to these fellows, ‘I’m goin’ to obey orders an’ be as meek61 as a lamb, in order to throw you off your guard an’ bolt when I get the chance!’”
“Cer’nly not. ’Cause why? Firstly, you couldn’t say it at all till you’d learned Arabic,” returned Molloy; “secondly—if I may be allowed for to follow suit an’ sermonise—’cause you shouldn’t say it if you could; an’, thirdly, ’cause you’d be a most awful Jack-ass to say it if you did. Now, it’s my advice, boys, that we go to sleep, for we won’t have an easy day of it to-morrow, if I may judge from to-day.”
Having delivered this piece of advice with much decision, the seaman extended himself at full length on the ground, and went to sleep with a pleased smile on his face, as if the desert sand had been his familiar couch from infancy62.
Some of the other members of the unfortunate party were not, however, quite so ready for sleep. Miles and his friend Armstrong sat long talking over their fate—which they mutually agreed was a very sad one; but at last, overcome by exhaustion63, if not anxiety, they sank into much-needed repose64, and the only sound that broke the stillness of the night was the tread of the Arab sentinel as he paced slowly to and fro.
The country, as they advanced, became more and more rugged65, until they found themselves at last in the midst of a hill region, in the valleys of which there grew a considerable amount of herbage and underwood. The journey here became very severe to the captives, for, although they did not suffer from thirst so much as on the plains, the difficulty of ascending66 steep and rugged paths with their hands bound was very great. It is true the position of the hands was changed, for after the second day they had been bound in front of them, but this did not render their toil67 easy, though it was thereby made a little less laborious68.
By this time the captives had learned from experience that if they wished to avoid the spear-points they must walk in advance of their captors at a very smart pace. Fortunately, being all strong and healthy men, they were well able to do so.
Rattling Bill, perhaps, suffered most, although, after Molloy, he was physically69 one of the strongest of the party.
Observing that he lagged behind a little on one occasion while they were traversing a somewhat level valley, Stevenson offered him his arm.
“Don’t be ashamed to take it, old boy,” said the marine kindly70, as his comrade hesitated. “You know, a fellow sometimes feels out o’ sorts, and not up to much, however stout56 he may be when well, so just you lay hold, for somehow I happen to feel as strong as an elephant to-day.”
“But I ain’t ill,” returned Simkin, still declining, “and I don’t see why I shouldn’t be as able as you are to carry my own weight.”
“Of course you are better able to do it than I am, in a general way,” returned his friend, “but I said that sometimes, you know, a fellow gives in, he don’t well know why or how, an’ then, of course, his comrades that are still strong are bound to help him. Here, hook on and pocket your pride. You’ll have to do the same thing for me to-morrow, may-hap, when I give in. And if it does come to that I’ll lean heavy, I promise you.”
“You’re a good fellow, Stevenson, even though you are a Blue Light,” said Simkin, taking the proffered71 arm.
“Perhaps it’s because I am a Blue Light,” returned the marine, with a laugh. “At all events, it is certain that whatever good there may be about me at all is the result of that Light which is as free to you as to me.”
“I wonder,” he said, “why it is that a young and healthy fellow like me should break down sooner than you, Stevenson, for I’m both bigger and stronger—and yet, look at us new. Ain’t it strange! I wonder why it is.”
“It is strange, indeed,” returned the marine quietly. “P’r’aps the climate suits me better than you.”
“I know what you’re thinkin’,” said Simkin, almost testily73. “Why don’t you say that drink is the cause of it—straight out, like a man?”
“Because I knew you were saying that to yourself, lad, so there was no need for me to say it,” returned his friend, with a side-glance and a twinkle of the eyes.
“Well, whoever says it, it’s a fact,” continued Simkin, almost sternly, “an’ I make no bones of admitting it. I have bin24 soakin’ away, right and left, since I came to this country, in spite o’ warnin’s from you and other men like you, and now I feel as if all my boasted strength was goin’ out at my heels.”
Stevenson was silent.
“Why don’t you say ‘I told you so?’” asked Simkin, sharply.
“Because I never say that! It only riles people; besides,” continued the marine, earnestly, “I was asking God at the moment to enable me to answer you wisely. You see, I think it only fair to reveal some of my private thoughts to you, since you are making a father-confessor of me. But as you admit that drink has done you damage, my dear fellow, there is no need for me to say anything more on that subject. What you want now is encouragement as to the future and advice as to the present. Shall I give you both just now, or shall I wait?”
“‘Commence firing!’” replied Simkin, with a half-jesting smile.
“Well, then, as to encouragement,” said Stevenson. “A point of vital importance with men who have gone in for drink as much as you have, is total-abstinence; and I regard it as an evidence of God’s love to you that He has brought you here—”
“God’s love that brought me here!” exclaimed the soldier in surprise. “Well, that is a view o’ the case that don’t seem quite plain.”
“Plain enough if you open your eyes wide enough. See here: If you was in camp now, with your present notions, and was to determine to give up drink, you’d have to face and fight two most tremendous devils. One devil is called Craving74, the other is called Temptation, and all the Arabs in the Soudan rolled into one are not so terrible or so strong as these two when a man is left to fight them by himself. Now, is it not a sign of our Father’s love that he has, by bringing you here, removed the devil Temptation entirely75 out of your way, for you can’t get strong drink here for love or money. So, you see, you have only got Craving to fight, and that’s encouraging, ain’t it?”
“D’ye know, I believe you are not far wrong,” said Simkin, gravely; “and it is encouraging to know that Temptation’s out o’ the way, for I feel that the other devil has got me by the throat even now, and that it’s him as has weakened me so much.”
“That’s it, friend. You’ve got the truth by the tail now, so hold on; but, at the same time, don’t be too hard on Craving. It’s not his fault that he’s here. You have poured liquor down your throat to him daily, and cultivated his acquaintance, and helped him to increase his strength regularly, for many months—it may be for years. I don’t want to be hard on you, lad, but it’s of no use shiftin’ the burden on to the wrong shoulders. It is not Craving but you who are the sinner. Now, as to advice: do you really want it?”
“Well,” replied Simkin, with a “humph!” “it will be time enough for you to shut up when I sound the ‘cease firing!’”
“My advice, then, is that you go down on your knees, plead guilty straight off, and ask for grace to help you in your time of need.”
“What! go down on my knees here before all them Arabs? If I did, they’d not only laugh at me, but they’d soon rouse me up with their spears.”
“I’m not so sure about that, Simkin. Arabs are accustomed to go on their own knees a good deal in public. It is chiefly Christians76 who, strange to say, are ashamed to be caught in that position at odd times. But I speak not of ceremonies, but of realities. A man may go on his knees, without bending a joint77, any time and everywhere. Now, listen: there is this difference between the courts of men and the court of heaven, that in the former, when a man pleads guilty, his sentence is only modified and softened78, but in the latter, the man who pleads guilty receives a free pardon and ultimate deliverance from all sin for the sake of Jesus Christ. Will you accept this deliverance, my friend?”
What the soldier replied in his heart we cannot tell, for his voice was silent. Before the conversation could be resumed a halt was called, to partake of the midday meal and rest.
That evening the party came upon a strange and animated79 scene. It was one of the mountain camps of Osman Digna, where men were assembling from all quarters to swell80 the hordes81 with which their chief hoped to drive the hated Europeans into the Red Sea. Camels and other beasts of burden were bringing in supplies for the vast army, and to this spot had been brought the poor fellows who had been wounded in recent battles.
Here the captives were thrust into a small dark hut and left to their meditations82, while a couple of Arab sentries83 guarded the door.
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1
captivity
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| n.囚禁；被俘；束缚 | |
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foes
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| 敌人，仇敌( foe的名词复数 ) | |
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opportunely
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| adv.恰好地，适时地 | |
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jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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rattling
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| adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
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inclination
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| n.倾斜；点头；弯腰；斜坡；倾度；倾向；爱好 | |
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gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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exempt
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| adj.免除的；v.使免除；n.免税者，被免除义务者 | |
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indignity
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| n.侮辱，伤害尊严，轻蔑 | |
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wrenched
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| v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的过去式和过去分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
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pricks
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| 刺痛( prick的名词复数 )； 刺孔； 刺痕； 植物的刺 | |
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prick
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| v.刺伤，刺痛，刺孔；n.刺伤，刺痛 | |
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warriors
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| 武士，勇士，战士( warrior的名词复数 ) | |
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fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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shaft
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| n.(工具的)柄，杆状物 | |
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plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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shrub
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| n.灌木，灌木丛 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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subdue
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| vt.制服，使顺从，征服；抑制，克制 | |
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passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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bin
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| n.箱柜；vt.放入箱内；[计算机] DOS文件名:二进制目标文件 | |
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marine
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| adj.海的；海生的；航海的；海事的；n.水兵 | |
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savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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remonstrated
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| v.抗议( remonstrate的过去式和过去分词 )；告诫 | |
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growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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thigh
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| n.大腿；股骨 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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elation
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| n.兴高采烈，洋洋得意 | |
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varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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kindled
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| （使某物）燃烧，着火( kindle的过去式和过去分词 )； 激起（感情等）； 发亮，放光 | |
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lashed
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| adj.具睫毛的v.鞭打( lash的过去式和过去分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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swarmed
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| 密集( swarm的过去式和过去分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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ammunition
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| n.军火，弹药 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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quell
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| v.压制，平息，减轻 | |
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ram
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| (random access memory)随机存取存储器 | |
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brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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remarkably
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| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
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mangled
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| vt.乱砍（mangle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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bruises
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| n.瘀伤，伤痕，擦伤( bruise的名词复数 ) | |
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scanty
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| adj.缺乏的，仅有的，节省的，狭小的，不够的 | |
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uncommon
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| adj.罕见的，非凡的，不平常的 | |
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sanguine
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| adj.充满希望的，乐观的，血红色的 | |
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seaman
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| n.海员，水手，水兵 | |
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acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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rascal
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| n.流氓；不诚实的人 | |
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humbug
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| n.花招，谎话，欺骗 | |
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pretence
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| n.假装，作假；借口，口实；虚伪；虚饰 | |
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obedience
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| n.服从，顺从 | |
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submission
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| n.服从，投降；温顺，谦虚；提出 | |
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stoutly
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| adv.牢固地，粗壮的 | |
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58
thereby
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| adv.因此，从而 | |
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59
favourable
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| adj.赞成的，称赞的，有利的，良好的，顺利的 | |
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60
smack
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| vt.拍，打，掴；咂嘴；vi.含有…意味；n.拍 | |
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meek
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| adj.温顺的，逆来顺受的 | |
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62
infancy
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| n.婴儿期；幼年期；初期 | |
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63
exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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rugged
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| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
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66
ascending
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| adj.上升的，向上的 | |
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67
toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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68
laborious
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| adj.吃力的，努力的，不流畅 | |
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69
physically
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| adj.物质上，体格上，身体上，按自然规律 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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71
proffered
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| v.提供，贡献，提出( proffer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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72
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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73
testily
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| adv. 易怒地, 暴躁地 | |
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74
craving
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| n.渴望,热望 | |
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75
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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Christians
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| n.基督教徒( Christian的名词复数 ) | |
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joint
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| adj.联合的，共同的；n.关节，接合处；v.连接，贴合 | |
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78
softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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animated
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| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
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80
swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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81
hordes
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| n.移动着的一大群( horde的名词复数 )；部落 | |
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82
meditations
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| 默想( meditation的名词复数 )； 默念； 沉思； 冥想 | |
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83
sentries
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| 哨兵，步兵( sentry的名词复数 ) | |
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