" said the professor; "and what a release. Why, Ibrahim, I
thought the Arab of the desert was tender to his beast, whether it was
camel or horse?"

"Well, Excellency," said the old man proudly, "look at the camel you
ride; look at these. I am an Arab: have you ever seen me otherwise than
merciful to my beasts?"

"No," said the professor; "but look at that wretched creature! Ugh! how
horrible! Let's ride on."

It was time, for nearly heedless of the presence of man, the vultures
were dropping down from the ruins, and those in the air were making a
final sweep round before darting upon their carrion prey. The party
rode on in silence for a few minutes, the Sheikh waiting for the
professor to continue; but he remained silent, and the old man began in
protest--

"An Arab does not leave his beast like that, Excellency. These men here
are not Arabs, but the fierce, half-savage people from high up the
country, who have descended the river, killing and destroying, till
wherever they stop the land is turned into a waste. Time back, when the
great general was sent up to Khartoum, we said `Now there will be peace,
and the savage followers of the Mahdi will be driven back into the
wilds; people will dare to live again and grow their corn and pasture
their flocks and herds;' but, alas! it was not to be. The great Gordon
was murdered, his people slaughtered, and the country that has been
watered with the blood of the just still cries aloud for help. Is it
ever to come?"

"Yes, Ibrahim, and soon," said the professor. "Who knows of the
preparations being made better than you?"

"Yes, Excellency, I know," said the Sheikh slowly; "but it is so long in
coming, and while they are waiting to be freed from the horrible tyranny
of the Mahdi and his successor, the people wither away and die."

The old man looked at Frank as he spoke, and the young man gave him an
approving nod, after which they rode on through the squalor and horrors
of the place till the road grew more straight and wide, the hovels
fewer. Then the filth and misery grew scarcer, patches of cultivated
land appeared, from which weary-eyed faces looked up, half wondering,
here and there, but only to sink listlessly again as their owners toiled
on, with taskmasters ready to urge them on with their labour, as they
tortured their sluggish oxen toiling at water-wheel or grinding at a
mill.

But for the most part the Baggaras' slaves allowed the passers-by to go