Part 12

As soon as he reached the summit he had the satisfaction of seeing them in the plain immediately below. They were going at a slow pace, some of the slaves and boys stopping and diverging to the right and left to drive up the lagging mares and foals, while the main body pursued their route, evidently unsuspicious of the vicinity of danger. Hassan had not been a moment on the crest of the hill ere they perceived him; but as they expected their comrade to reappear from that quarter, and they recognised his horse, blanket, and head-dress, it was impossible for them at that distance to distinguish the features or figure of the rider, and the motions of Hassan were such as to disarm all suspicion, as he rode leisurely and in a lazy attitude on a parallel line with themselves, apparently allowing the horse to pick his own way. Meanwhile he noted accurately their numbers and rate of march, so that he was able to calculate with considerable exactness the most favourable point for sweeping over the hill with his party to intercept their retreat. This latter manœuvre he was obliged to defer until the appearance of the Georgian and his followers in pursuit, his own being too few in number to make a successful attack alone.

Hassan had not long to wait, for the time arranged between himself and the Georgian had scarcely elapsed ere the latter appeared on the hill in the rear, and began to cross the plain with his men at an easy gallop. That he was noticed by the Sammalous was ere long evident from the sudden stir and movement observable among their ranks, as they held a hasty consultation whether they should abandon their booty or make a stand in its defence. The party in pursuit being apparently not more than half their own number, they resolved on the latter course; and from the shouts and signs which they made to Hassan to come down and join them, he conjectured that the man whom he had discomfited was of some rank or consequence among them. Regardless of their signals, he disappeared over the hill to join his own party, while the Sammalous leader exclaimed to his followers, “Curses on Abd-el-Atah, on his father, and on his mother; he sees we are about to be attacked, and he gallops off to save his own skin!”

Having rejoined his party, Hassan vaulted on Shèitan, threw off his disguise, and led them swiftly forward for about a mile, when perceiving a small gorge or cleft in the hill which opened upon the plain, he conducted his men through it, and had the satisfaction of seeing that the body of the Sammalous were between the Georgian and himself.

“El-hamdu-lillah, we have them!” he exclaimed, and as he spoke he loosened his sword in its sheath, looked to the priming of his pistols, and there was a joyous, exulting expression in his countenance which gave confidence to all the party.

The time for concealment was past, for the Georgian was now within an arrow’s shot of the Sammalous. The latter had gathered their captured animals in the rear, and were preparing to resist the onset of the enemy in front, when shouts from the boys and servants in the rear caused them to turn their heads. They saw Hassan and his little band approaching in that direction. Escape was now impossible, and it only remained for them to conquer or be captured with all their booty.

The number of combatants was nearly equal; the Sammalous had, perhaps, eight or ten more than their opponents, besides a score of servants and boys on foot, who had each a sword or lance. Twenty of the fighting men of the Sammalous were quickly wheeled to the rear to oppose Hassan and his twelve horsemen, who now came on in a gallop, and in better order than might have been expected from their habitually irregular discipline.

“Gently, gently, my men,” said Hassan, reining in Shèitan to a moderate hand-gallop. “Keep your horses in breath till you are at close quarters, then let them out. A gold sequin for the first empty saddle among the Sammalous.” His men answered with a loud and cheerful shout, and in a few minutes the conflict began.

As Hassan had expected, the Sammalous did not await his charge in a body, but dispersed to the right and left, so as to reduce the fight rather to a succession of single combats. They fought well and bravely, nevertheless they were unable to contend with the impetuous force with which Hassan directed the attack of his small party; in fact, his appearance and his deeds contributed to strike a panic into them. His large and powerful figure, the joyous and exulting shouts that he raised as man after man fell under the sweep of his sword, together with the wonderful dexterity with which he guided and wheeled his strong and fiery horse amidst and around them, contributed to throw them into amazement and consternation.

The Georgian on his side was not idle, and it was soon evident to the leader of the Sammalous that all hopes of saving their booty must be abandoned: many of his men were killed, many wounded, when he reluctantly shouted aloud to the remainder words that may best be rendered by the French “Sauve qui peut!” Mounted on Nebleh, the chief had shot about the field like a meteor—now here, now there, darting and wheeling in every direction. Nebleh seemed to be unapproachable in her matchless speed and activity. Never had that gallant mare and her no less gallant rider better deserved the high reputation they had acquired than on this day so fatal to his tribe. One of the Turkish horsemen he had transfixed with his lance, and had grievously wounded two more; but now destiny had decided against him, and with a sigh he turned to fly from the luckless field.

Hassan had been so much occupied in the _mêlée_ that he had not had time to seek out the Sammalous leader, and accident had not brought them together; but when the latter shouted to his men to fly, and turned Nebleh’s head to the desert, Hassan struck his stirrups into Shèitan’s flanks and darted forth in pursuit, and now commenced a race for victory on one side, for life on the other.

The Sammalous had a start of nearly fifty yards, which Shèitan’s first furious bound had reduced to thirty. For nearly half a mile the speed of the horses seemed equal, but even in the heat of that exciting moment Hassan had the presence of mind to reflect that Shèitan’s strength and speed had been severely tried by a long gallop on the other side of the hill, and also that his own weight was one-third greater than that of the light and sinewy form of the Sammalous chief, hence he rightly judged that in a long race he must be the loser. Both had hitherto kept their horses somewhat within their speed preparatory to a trial of endurance.

Hassan now resolved to call upon Shèitan for one great effort, and if that failed, to give up the pursuit. Once more he slackened the rein and struck the sharp stirrup into the flanks of Shèitan. The high-bred horse, responsive to the touch, bounded forward with an impetuosity that brought him within a few yards of Nebleh’s flank. At this crisis the Sammalous chief drew a pistol from his girdle, and, turning round in his saddle, fired at his pursuer with so true an aim that the ball passed through Hassan’s clothes and grazed his ribs, inflicting a slight flesh wound in its passage.

With a motion almost simultaneous Hassan drew out one of his pistols and aimed it full at the back of his enemy. The ball took effect between the unfortunate man’s shoulders and passed through his lungs. After reeling for a few minutes in the saddle, he fell heavily to the ground, his hand still grasping Nebleh’s bridle. The intelligent and faithful animal stood by the side of her dying master, putting her nose down towards his face as if inquiring what ailed him and why he stopped. Hassan dismounted, and leaving his panting steed at a little distance, approached the spot. The Sammalous chief was no more.

Hassan remained for a few minutes silently contemplating the body. A smile of satisfaction passed over his countenance as he reflected how well he had avenged the wrongs of his foster-father, but it quickly passed away as he said gravely, “He was a brave horseman, but his time was come—destiny had written it—Allah have mercy on his soul!” He then commenced an examination of the dead man’s clothes, and found, as he had expected, in the shawl around his waist several small bags of money which the deceased had plundered from the villages whence he had taken the horses. Securing these in his own belt, he proceeded to lead away Nebleh, who was apparently bewildered by the death of her master, and accompanied him with the gentleness of a lamb.

Two or three of his men, who had followed the headlong chase as fast as their wearied horses could carry them, now drew near. Intrusting Nebleh to them, he slowly returned to the scene of the affray.

Hassan and the Georgian, after congratulating each other on the success of their expedition, began to examine into its results. Of their own party four were killed and ten wounded; of the Sammalous nine were killed and thirty made prisoners, of whom seventeen or eighteen were wounded. Several bags of money had been found besides those in the possession of Hassan, and forty mares and foals carried away from the villages, besides twenty-five horses belonging to the Sammalous themselves. These items, added to a goodly collection of swords, pistols, and other accoutrements, made up a very respectable prize to lay at the feet of the Kiahia.

The solitary Arab whom Hassan had thrown from his horse and had left bound had wandered from his party to drink at a neighbouring well, whither, being at no great distance from the scene of the affray, Hassan and the Georgian now determined to proceed, there to pass the night, the state of the wounded rendering it impossible to carry them back direct to the Pyramids. To the well, therefore, they bent their course, the wounded being placed and supported on the quietest horses. They found the prisoner bound in the spot where he had been left, and he was not a little surprised to see his comrades and all their booty captured like himself. He bore it, however, with the resigned indifference common to oriental fatalists.

Having arrived at the well, arrangements were made for the night encampment. The prisoners were all placed, disarmed, in a body, with a strong guard over them, and they were told that any attempt at escape would be punished by instant death. The horses were picketed, and Hassan intrusted Nebleh to his own groom, with orders to sleep close to her, and with one eye open: over these a guard was set, which was relieved every two or three hours, Hassan and the Georgian agreeing to watch each one-half of the night. The barley and bread captured from the Sammalous was more than ample for the wants of the party, and half-a-dozen torn-up shirts supplied the bandages necessary for the wounded.

The night passed without incident or interruption, and the following day they pursued their course leisurely to the Pyramids, where their arrival with their captives and booty created no little sensation. After consulting with Hassan the Georgian sent off a fresh horseman with a letter to the Kiahia, informing him of the result of the expedition, and requesting that one or two surgeons might be sent to attend the wounded of both parties: he also desired to know the Pasha’s pleasure whether he should convey the prisoners and recaptured booty into Cairo, or to the divan of the Governor of the province at Ghizeh.

The generous Georgian did not tell Hassan that in his account of the affray he had given the whole credit of its success to our hero, both from his having laid and carried out the plan, and crowned it by killing the Sammalous chief with his own hand.

Those who have lived or travelled in the East will exclaim, “This is unnatural; no Oriental was ever capable of so unselfish a trait.” Rare fruit in that clime we admit it to be, nevertheless the exception does not disprove the rule. However contrary it may appear to general experience, truth, modesty, and unselfishness _may_ be found in the East—that is, among the Arabs, Turks, and those brought up with them. He that would seek such fruit farther East—that is, in Persia—had better settle his affairs before he starts, and be prepared for a journey of indefinite duration and worse than doubtful result.

Having despatched the messenger, and sent another to the villages which had been plundered by the Sammalous to desire their sheiks to come on the following morning to identify and claim their lost property, Hassan and the Georgian proceeded without delay to render such assistance as lay in their power to their wounded comrades: in this work of humanity they found an efficient coadjutor in Müller. For most of the wounds, after cleaning them, cold bandages were his panacea, and these he applied with remarkable skill and expedition. In two instances he had to employ probe and forceps for the extraction of a pistol-ball: in these he was equally successful, and he plied his hands and instruments with much knowledge.

Hassan, as soon as he could leave the wounded, was summoned to Mr Thorpe’s tent to give an account of the expedition and the affray, which he did with his accustomed modesty, passing lightly over his own share in them, and praising the gallantry of the Georgian and his comrades. But when he came to relate the chase, and what might be termed his flying duel with the Sammalous chief, his eye sparkled, and he told his tale with a force and vigour that produced the liveliest interest and excitement in his auditors. Emily gazed on the speaker in silence, and when he had concluded his narrative Mr Thorpe said—

“Hassan, you mentioned that the chief’s bullet grazed your side: in attending to the wounds of others, have you seen to your own?”

“Mine is a mere scratch; I have not even looked at it,” he replied.

“The very words you used before,” said Mr Thorpe, shaking his head, “when you had a ball in your shoulder which threatened to cripple you for life. I insist upon it that you allow Müller to examine it.”

“To please you, and to show you that I am grateful for the interest you take in me, I will do so,” said Hassan, rising, and he went with Müller into the adjoining tent. On examination the latter found that our hero, though not seriously injured, had very narrowly escaped. The ball had, as he termed it, grazed his side: the application of some lint and a plaster was all that Müller thought necessary. He returned to give his report to the Thorpes, while Hassan went to sup with his friend the Georgian, who had already invited the doctor to join them.

On the following morning at daybreak the messenger returned, bringing an answer from the Kiahia to the effect that Hassan and the Georgian, together with those who had accompanied them, were to convey the prisoners, horses, and other booty to the Governor’s divan at Ghizeh, where the Kiahia proposed himself to attend and to superintend the proceedings. The village sheiks having arrived, the party set forth to Ghizeh, and on arriving, Hassan was surprised and pleased to find there his chief, Delì Pasha, in attendance on the Kiahia. The hearty old Pasha welcomed Hassan with a smile, saying—

“Welcome, my son; you have done well, and have made my eyes glad.”

The Kiahia then sat down in the centre, with Delì Pasha on one side and the Governor on the other, Hassan and the Georgian standing near their respective chiefs. The proceedings commenced by an inquiry into the amount claimed by the several sheiks as having been stolen from their villages.

It were an endless task to relate the falsehoods and exaggerations uttered by each of these worthies as to the losses they had sustained: certain it is that five times the amount of money recovered would not have satisfied their claims. Hassan and the Georgian laid before the Kiahia the bags which they had found on the persons of the Sammalous, as well as the prisoners and the dead. Some of them were distinguishable by marks and seals: these were restored to their owners, and the others distributed according to the best judgment of the Kiahia. Still the claimants were dissatisfied, and one old sheik said—

“Would it not be well if your Excellency ordered these two young Mamelukes and their soldiers to be searched?—perhaps they have secreted some of the money.”

Hassan and the Georgian cast on the speaker looks of silent contempt, but the impetuous Delì roared out, “By my life, thou son of a dog, thou deservest to have thy white beard rubbed in the kennel! Dost thou think that these brave youths would risk their lives to recover your dirty piastres and then steal a portion of them? and if they had been thieves like thyself, dost thou think, thou father of asses, that they would have brought those piastres with them to this divan?”

The abashed sheik held his peace, and soon afterwards slunk out of the court.

The mares and foals claimed by the villagers were next distributed, and with less confusion and contention than the money, being more easily identified. This ceremony over, the Kiahia Pasha said—

“As the goods of the villagers have now been restored, the persons and property of the Sammalous thieves are at the disposal of the Government—the prisoners are condemned to three years’ imprisonment. Kawàsses, take charge of them, and remove them to Cairo. Now, Hassan and Reschid” (addressing the Georgian), “stand forth.” The young men obeyed. “Hassan,” continued the Kiahia, “the mare of the Sammalous chief whom you killed is yours. There are twenty-five horses, with arms and accoutrements, belonging to the Sammalous: of these fifteen are for you, as you took the principal lead in the expedition; the remaining ten are for Reschid.”

“My lord,” said Hassan hastily, interrupting the Kiahia, “pardon my freedom of speech. It is not just that I should take one horse more than Reschid: he is my senior, and he commanded your Excellency’s men; he fought and risked his life as I did. Whatever lead I had in the expedition was owing to his modesty and friendship: as we divided the duty equally, I beg your Excellency to divide the horses equally.”

The Kiahia smiled aside to Delì Pasha and replied, “Wallàhi! Hassan, your sentiment is friendly and good, but it is out of my power to comply with your wish. There are twenty-five horses; how can I divide them equally?”

“May your servant speak freely?” inquired Hassan. On receiving an approving sign from the Kiahia he continued, “Four of the brave soldiers who fought with us fell in the affray; they will have left behind them perhaps poor parents, perhaps poor families. I would beg your Excellency to give me eight of the horses, the same number to Reschid, and to allow the remainder to be sold in the horse-market and the money to be given to those poor families.”

“Mashallah!” said the Kiahia, “you have spoken kindly and wisely; it shall be done as you wish. Do you and Reschid take all the horses, choose each your eight, sell the remainder yourselves, and give the amount to the families of those on whom Allah has had mercy.”[74]

Hassan bowed, and was about to retire when the Kiahia again called him and Reschid before him, saying to them, “You have both done well, and the Viceroy is pleased that those who do good service should be rewarded; my _khaznadâr_ has orders to pay you each five purses [£25] on leaving this presence.”

The young men answered with the customary “May your years and honours be abundant,” and withdrew. Hassan having received permission to send his mare and his eight horses into Delì Pasha’s stable, went back with Reschid to the Pyramids in order to take leave of his English friends, while the Kiahia and Delì Pasha returned to Cairo.

Our hero and Reschid, whose liking for each other had already ripened into a warm attachment, rode side by side, conversing on many topics, when the former suddenly said to his companion, “Reschid, I know not how you may feel, but I do not like being paid in money for doing our duty in scattering, capturing, and killing those thieves of Sammalous, and methinks it were a more fitting reward for those soldiers who shared our danger and who have got nothing. What think you if we were to divide among them these purses which have been given to us, and allow some additional share to the wounded?”

Reschid eagerly embraced and seconded the proposal, saying, “You are right, Hassan; we have all that we need under the shadow of our Pashas. The money will be better bestowed among these fellows, whose trade it is to take hard blows for money.”

The idea was no sooner conceived than it was put in execution. Halting under a clump of palm-trees, they called up the men, and after a few words of encouragement and praise for their good conduct, divided among them all that they had received, reserving, as they had proposed, a somewhat larger share for the wounded. As they again rode forward towards the Pyramids, one of the horsemen said to his fellows—

“If our Pasha would give us leaders like that young Hassan, we would follow them to the last drop of our blood. How unlike he is to our captain, whose hands are idle in the fight, and busy only in gripping the money.”

Hassan was very anxious to learn something of his new friend’s origin and early history; but the latter was not able to satisfy his curiosity, answering with a smile to his inquiries, “Our fates seem somewhat similar. You tell me that you are a foundling and know not your parents. I am much in the same case; for I was brought over here from Stamboul, in company with two of my sisters, when I was four or five years of age: the elder was betrothed and married; the younger was destined for some great harem, but she fell in love, married secretly—I know not whom—escaped, and has never since been heard of. As I never could learn the name of her husband, I have not been able to trace her.”

“As our fates are alike, so let our hearts be alike,” said Hassan cordially; “and may Allah some day reunite us both to those whom we have lost.”

“So may it be! You are not a woman, and not very like one either,” replied Reschid, casting his eyes on the athletic proportions of his companion, “and yet my heart leaned towards you from the first moment I saw you. Inshallah! now we are friends, we will see each other much and often.”

“I should be truly glad,” answered Hassan; “but our intercourse will be soon interrupted, for Delì Pasha goes shortly to Siout as Governor, and I am to accompany him.”

“You will not remain there long,” said Reschid, “neither you nor your chief. Mohammed Ali likes him and his blunt ways. You will see that he will not leave him long at Siout.”

Thus conversing, the friends arrived at the Pyramids, where the report of their generosity to the soldiers and the wounded was soon spread over the whole encampment.

On the morning succeeding these events, Hassan, after taking leave of the Thorpe party, and recommending them to the care of his friend Reschid, returned to Delì Pasha’s palace on the banks of the river, where he was cordially welcomed by his chief and by Ahmed Aga. The fame of his exploits, if so they may be termed, had already spread over the whole house, and indeed had been painted in glowing colours by the old chief himself to his daughter.

No greeting of all those which met him on his return pleased him more than that of the little dumb Murad, who looked up into his protector’s face with eyes that scarcely required the aid of the tongue’s interpretation, as his nimble fingers signed the words, “Allah give you a long and prosperous life—I have heard all, and oh! I am so happy.”