The whole of the night was passed by the rival parties
quarrelling and fighting. At 5.30 on the following morning the drum of
Ibrahim's party beat the call, and his men with great alacrity got their
porters together and prepared to march. My vakeel was not to be found;
my men were lying idly in the positions where they had slept, and not a
man obeyed when I gave the order to prepare to start-except Richarn and
Sali. I saw that the moment had arrived. Again I gave the order to the
men to get up and load the animals. Not a man would move except three or
four, who slowly rose from the ground and stood resting on their guns.
In the mean time Richarn and Sali were bringing the camels and making
them kneel by the luggage. The boy Saat was evidently expecting a row,
and although engaged with the black women in packing, he kept his eyes
constantly on me.

I now observed that Bellaal was standing very near me on my right, in
advance of the men who had risen from the ground, and employed himself
in eying me from head to foot with the most determined insolence. The
fellow had his gun in his hand, and he was telegraphing by looks with
those who were standing near him, while not one of the others rose from
the ground, although close to me. Pretending not to notice Bellaal, who
was now, as I had expected, once more the ringleader, for the third time
I ordered the men to rise immediately and to load the camels. Not a man
moved; but the fellow Bellaal marched up to me, and looking me straight
in the face dashed the butt-end of his gun in defiance on the ground
and led the mutiny. "Not a man shall go with you! Go where you like with
Ibrahim, but we won't follow you nor move a step farther. The men shall
not load the camels; you may employ the 'niggers' to do it, but not us."

I looked at this mutinous rascal for a moment. This was the outburst of
the conspiracy, and the threats and insolence that I had been forced to
pass over for the sake of the expedition all rushed before me. "Lay down
your gun!" I thundered, "and load the camels!" "I won't," was his reply.
"Then stop here!" I answered, at the same time lashing out as quick as
lightning with my right hand upon his jaw.

He rolled over in a heap, his gun flying some yards from his hand, and
the late ringleader lay apparently insensible among the luggage, while
several of his friends ran to him and played the part of the Good
Samaritan. Following up on the moment the advantage I had g