The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1879-11-13

It was on the twelfth days march that
we reached, in struggling order, the river
Khabour-a swift but shallow feeder of
the mighty Euphrates; and, as we forded
it, party of mounted Bedoulns dashed
out from among the sandhills, and made
a swoop upon US in quest Of captives and
booty. sec the scene yet-the long
lines of laden ca,ncls, the wild horsemen
brandishing their spears, or pointing their
guns. the panic among the merchants and
pilgrims, and the squirting forward of
tho Turkish irregular calvary to clear the
way. The marauders were baked OF
their prey. They had probably heard
runners Of our condition, and had over
estimated our helplessness, for a:.volley
from the Hyta Basins of the escort put
them to flight, and they dispersed at once
securing over the sand, and mocking,
with derisive gestures the efforts of the
hcavily-accoutrcd troopers to overtake
them.
All the BedouiEs, however, did not
take their disappointment as a jesting
matter, for two Or three Of those who
had gained the opposite bank dismount-
ed and took deliberate shots with their
long guns at the foremost Of us. One
matchbox ball, and one only, seemed
to take effect for Ethel's camel reared
suddenly, with the screaming cry which
those huge beasts utter when under the
influence Of rage or pain, and fell, crush
ing down the camel-driver who held it
by the halter and hurting his fair burden
into the rocky bed Of the stream that
brawlea and ed as it made its way
past, fed by late rain-storm among the
Kurdish Mountains, toward the great
river. Fortunately I was within ear
shot, and, hearing Miss Wynne's cry Of
alarm, dashed my spurs into my horses
TANKS and, half swimming, half stun
bling among loose stones, reached the
place where the girls bright hair tloated
on the turbld water, and by great ex-
crtion was able to rescue her from the
fate that seemed eminent, and to bear
her, pale and insensible, like some droop-
ing lily that has been beaten down by
hail and rain, to the shore.
Toc firing had ceased, save that our
soldiers sometimes sent bullet after
the flying robbers, ana nll danger was
over, so far as the attack was concerned f;
but Ethel had been partially stunned by
the shock Of the fall, and she lay helpless,
with halt-closcd eyes, moaning slightly.
As I tried, assisted by one Of the Arab
camel-drivers who had just come up, to
raise and revive her, an exclamation from
my rude companion made me start.
''She, too-thc Frangi princessw NUT
tered the Arab. swell, it was written ~
And, following the direction Of the man s
gaze, I saw, with horror that words are
too weak to express, on Ethel Wynne's
bare white wrist dark, discolored spot,
somewhat swclled and Of blush tint
edged with angry red. The camel-driver
had been the first to note this. There
was strange sort of pity in his hard
eyes as they met mine which confirmed
my fears. Yes. I had saved Ethel from
one death only to lose her by one more
dreadful; for the plague knew it but
too well-had set its mark upon her, and
she was, all unwittingly, sickening Of the
direful pestilence that had deprived her
of her father. Then too for the first time
learned to read my own heart, and to
know how very, very dear the sweet girl
had become to me. had protected and
served her loyalty as brother might
have done; but now I felt TINT ! loved
her, at the very instant when it was Ger
tam that nothing short of miracle could
save her from an early grave.
"Thcre is a Hakhim at Der, if We could
carry her so far said the good natured
but somewhat apathetlc Shcikh of the
caravan, rs he rode up; "but, Enendi,
medicine and doctors can do nothing if
1t is ones kismet to die.'
However, by brides and entreaties
| managed to get a litter constructed of
spears and palm-branches, and persuaded
four Of the sturdiest camel-men to take
turns in carrying Ethel's still inanimate
form over the weary leagues that lay be-
tween US and the frontier town.
1t was black night when We saw before
US, looming over the dead fiat of the de.
sert-never so level as where it trenches
on cultivated land-the crumbling has.
tions, the slim minarets. and the green
gardens of Der. It was like the scene Of
a perturbcd dream, when tho tired bear.
ers IF the litter stumbled up the narrow
street lit with red and smoky glare from
the torches Of the ,townspcoplc, Mosle,n
and Christian, who came forth from the,l
dwellings, in Oriental fashion, shouting
out their comments, advice and ejacula
tions OF wonder and pity, IA We passed
by.
1t was easy to find the Great Doctor
door. Fifty volunteer guides undertook
| to pu,de ma tn it.
''The IIakhim," said one tall old croDe
whose black vail was heedfully, drawn
across her wrinkled face, "can call tn,
dead to lite. See the cure he wrought o
my grandchild Fatima!'
HE patched me up" said a sturdy
fellow, whose arm was yet in sling an6
bis head bandaged, "when the Turkish
tax-gatherer's men cut me down will
their sabers, just because"
did not hear the rest, tor already we
had reached the Hakhim's house, and til,
bearers were conveying the litter through
the huge wooden gate, clamped will
iron and studded with nails, which cav,
admittance to the courtyard. stood a.
If my feet were rooted to the pavement
not daring to advance-wait,ng, like .
criminal who waits to hear his sentence
"He is her husband" said by-standc1
compassionately. s'No, no, her brother,
said second. "Fools he il her lover,
exclaimed the shliller voice of woman
''and my heart bleeds for him, poor lad |:
| Presently heard myself addressed II
English. spoken with . German accent
and. looking up, saw the famous Hakhiu
himRelf-o KIND. thOuOhtfi,l. avady al1or1,