Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1879-11-09
THEPANIC IN TIE DESERT.

1t matters much!
THEPANIC IN THE DESERT.
A Tale Of Seven Years Since.
~ am afraid, sir, is it true"
Upon my word, Mr.. Marston, I am very
sorry to hear it,
The second speaker was, like myself,
an Englishman-a tall dignlfed old man,
who, as he spoke, cast quick, anxious
glance towards bright-eyed, slender
girl of nineteen, who stood at the tent
| door watching the picturesque process of
| saddling and loading the knceling camels
for the start. Mr.. Wynne was widower,
with an entailed estate, a large income,
aud but two children, one Of whom was
the son in England, heir to the property,
and NJ. P. tor some borough; and the
other, his young daughter, Ethel, with
whom, after travelling in the Holy Lands,
the father had ventured so far as Bagdad.
AS for myself, l was simply a young
English civil engineer, lately employed
by Midhat Pasha in some of his magnif-
cent projects for irrigating neglected
Mesopotamia, and now homeward bound.
There were rumors Of war and disturb
ance among the Anayze Bedouins, and
consequently both the Wynne family and
myself had been glad to avail ourselves of
the opportunity of joining the Bagdad
Damascus caravan, which was under the
protection of Turkish military guard.
Caravan travel is tedious, but full of
interest to those whose curiosity as to
Eastern manners and Eastern costumes
is not yet dulled oy custom; and Miss
Wynne never seemed tired of sketehing
some group of pilgrims in flowing robes
turbans of sacred green, some knot of
the irregular soldiery as they cooked
their pilaff or groomed their horses, Or a
party of solemn Arabs shrouded in their
white hacks.
All went on prosperously until, on the
evening of the fourth day, ugly rumors
began to circulate through the camp, and
the inquiries which Mr.. Wynne, more
anxious on his daughters account than
on his own, requested me to make, had
but served to prove their truth. The
plague was among us, and two members
of our migrasory community-one Kur-
dish householder, the other a Syrian
Christian-had died in the night. To
return, however, is impossible; not mere
| ly on account of the desert robbers who
logged our course, but because Bagdad
itself was already hot-bed of disease, to
which fatal1stic apathy might render Mo-
hommedans Indifferent, from which Eu-
ropeans were glad to escape.
knew but TOO well-for spent three
nj Il IN hot
sickness breaks out iii a caravan it is a
grisly companion very difficult 70 shake
off. And so, in this instance, it proved
itself to be. Never day passed with
out fresh victims being claimed by the
Destroyer that shared our march and BIZ
vouac; never hating place but was
marked, when we left it, by mounds of
sand heaped hastily over the shallow
graves scooped in the yellow soil, and in
some cases protected by thorn-b bushes
and loose stones from the :jackals that
prowlcd in the rear Of our motley multi
tude, and the vultures that lowered high
| aloft in the sunny sky, and which follow
ed us as sharks pursue some water-logged
ship in the tropic seas. Familiar faces
we're constantly missed from the circles
that formed at evening around the camp
| fires. Now it was some gallant soldier,
whose gay Albanian garb and bronzed
features Miss Wynne had transferred to
her sketch book, now venerable Hadjii
with silver beard and flowing robes; and
| anon fat Parsee merchant from Bonn
bay, or shrewd,. supple young Greek,
| who was lett behind in the wilderness.
None seemed exempt save the brown
skinned, scantily claG camel. drivers,
| who plodded on-true children of the
! sun-unconcernedly, under the sultry
glare.
Under these circumstances it is not
surprising that my casual acquaintance
| with my fellow-t,avellers Of my own
speech and race should have rapidly rip
ened into close intimacy Mr.. Wynne
was proud man, and like most old fash.
toned Englishmen, reluctant to make
new friends without the formality OF an
introduction, but it so happened that he
had, at Bagdad, dismissed his roguish
dragoman for pcculation beyond the ira
ditional percentage which such interpret
els are allowed to levy, and was there
fore glad to avail himself of the smatter
ing Of Arabic and Turkish, which had
picked up.
Ever sirce the outbreak of the plague
| had observed the old man to be thought
full and anxions, and at times he would
glance apprehensively at his daughter, as
it he feared to see the first signs of the
deadly blight dim her girlish beauty
Miss Ethel's own high spirits began tc
decline from fear, but from sym.
pathy with the distress that re1gned
round us. There were bereaved fathers
and orphaned children in the caravan
and sadder still, perhaps, were tho last
hours of those who were journeylng alone
and to whom care and burial had to be
rendered by the hands Of strangers.
| "Poor people, I wish I could belr
them!'' said the English girl, more than
once to me as l relgncd up my horse be.
side the camel on whose high saddle
trapped with embroidered cloth, she waf
mounted.
Indeed, Miss Wyune, it would be nse.
less" replied. "These poor creatures
have an almost suderstitious faith il
European medical skill, but we have nei
Their doctor nor medicine hest, and from
the moment of the seizure there is little
hope ofrecovery. All we can do is tc
struggle on"
The Wynnes were rich, and travelled
as people OF means and station usually
do, comfortably. Their tent-with its
gilded ball towering alott and Its com
partments walled in with snowy canvas.
carefully pegged down-was large an6
handsome whereas the black little GOV
ering under which slept, with my good
horse, which had for years been the com
rade OF my rambles, tethered outside