The Seattle post-intelligencer. [volume] (Seattle, Wash. Terr. [Wash.]) 1888-1914, 1892-03-06
PERILS OF THE NILE.
Continued from Page 81

vessels Of milk, grain, fruits and tobacco
leaves. The sky has lost the sun and
turned into q curtain OF heavenly glory
through which the first stars twinkle. OPP
with the lively and wonderful coll
ors Of the "afterglow." The old
captain IS finishing his evening PRAYER
upon his little carpet by our side. The
gaffar, the official Waterman, with long
stat and head cloth, comes down and sits
o1 the bank 10 take charge OF the safety Of
the ship. Dinner and the divinely placid
| Egyptian night ensue; and, while the
Arab crew dance and beat their drums in
the light OF tie paper lanterns, and you
smoke the long narghileh and sip the per-
fectly prepared coffee your wish is that
the ancient and majestic stream would run
forever and forever from the southwark in
the same tranquil manner, and that you
could go on stemrning IL forever and for
ever in the same daily and delightful peace
and ease.
We had sailed and tracked the Nile thus
for twenty-one days. each day adding 20
the agreeable experiences and growing
GOVERNMENTS of the voyage and increas-
ing our friendship with the crew, particu-
larry those heretofore named, and the dear
old refs. Lady Arnold had been very
kind TO that venerable Arab, giving him
tea and pills when out of sorts, and Refs
Achmet had come to regard her with deep
I
words of conversation. Ny son Julian, an
enthusiastic sportsman, had shot much
game for the men, and my daughter had
made special and devoted adher-
euts Of Ali, the boy, as well as
Mustapha and a sick Egyptian to
whom we had given a passage. The black
cat had been transferred to a passing grain
| boat troubled with rats and all seemed
fair and favorable. But now we were
doomed to realize the truth of that Arab
word-y1Sout-i. e., sit will come to an
end" and very nearly, indeed, as will be
seen, did We also and all those nineteen
Egyptians attending US, come to an end
with those too happy days.
It was an object, that January morning,
to start early and make the whole run TO
Girgeh, q considerable town, where We
were to take new supplies and where we
had arranged to reward the good service
Of the crew with sheep for feast and
fantasia of dancing and fireworks. Ac-
coTdingly, though rather too fresh wind
was blowing, | rose early, and, after con-
suItlng the captain, gave word to start.
Ny wife and son and daughter were still
IN their cabins, and We had thus far only
sailed about half league. Coming under
some high red cliffs OF sandstone on the
eastern shore, named Jebel-esh-Sheikh.
was on the upper deck watching to see that
Selim did not make fast for one moment the
sheet, the reis was giving directions for the
COURSE, anu MS next IN command steering,
when, on sudden, fury of wind fell
from the desert ledge high over head upon
the lofty latteen sail, sweeping at the
same time over the breadth OF the river
which it lashed into white tumult. The
little ship heeled over and rushed down
from the upper deck TO help let fy every
thing and get the sail reefed. As she
righted and rocked over the other way my
wife came hurriedly and half dressed out
OF the cabins, from which my son and
daughter had not yet emerged, and called
TO me in alarm. was saying some thing
conventional to reassure her when another
blast laid the dahabeeah violently over and
my cook, apparently just risen from sleep,
toppled and fell overheard. 0beying an in
stlnct TO render him help, l flung myself
across the gunwale of the Bedouin to
clutch and save him. but missed his hand
and was throwing the blight of rope
toward his sinking form, while | could
feel my wife Selling my coat from behind
TO keep me from going overheard. when
! the ship seemed to rear up and plunge
| and the next moment we were all hurled
| pelImell into the river the hull rolling right
over and the big sail lying fiat upon the
| water. Gear, poultry coops, oars, cordage,
! sailors, water jars. everything and every
body, with one or two exceptions were
| violently flung forth from the dahabeeah
| into the turbulent river waves in such a
helpless and sudden confusion and horror
! OF calamity that it gives me thrill even
now TO write OF that wild moment.
My part in that miserable instant was
/ TO see my wife at my side. to fling one arm
| around her waist and seize her wrist, while
/ striking out for the wreck with the other
| coop OF drowning poultry under rny left
elbow enabled me to support her and bring
| her TO the hull, upon which several of the
sailors had already scrambled up from the
water, and these men, in obedience to nv
/ call, drew Lady Arnold upon the keel. /
could not lift myself Up there, being too
exhausted, but chung to the ship. and hear
ing my son, an excellent swimmer, in the
river near me calling to his sister | ex-
claimed despairingly. she is diving under
the dahabeeah" But as soon as l found
strength to raise myself out of the water
upon the side of the Bedouin there
was my daughter sitting in her
night dress, having escaped by cool
ness and good fortune through her
cabin window. This sight greatly in
inspired me, especially as 1 saw my son
Julian just then dragging the old Arab
captain out OF the river. In effect all but
the cook had by this time crawled back
upon the vessels bilge. and there was
chance TO save at least the ladies before
she should I'LL and, founder. I shouted TO
the men, therefore. to cease their ridiculous
lamentations and useless curses and listen
to orders.
Never did l see such limp. miserable.
hopeless lot as my smart Egyptians had
become. They wept, they tore their clothes,
they threw their turbans into the waves.
Ihey were most of them abiectly useless
ana nerveless. 'Attini fcIlcca ga reis,"
cried, give me the little boat'D for we had
adingy towing asternlw hich had not capsiz-
eo ana was now our only hope. FeiuccG ma
.IeeSh. the oId gentleman plaintively cried,
pointing TO the thick manila rope holding
the skih, the knot of which was far under
water, so that TO get the little boat We
must cut that thick cord "Sikkin,
slkkin !" "a knife, knifer' I called out
lmpatlently, but nobody produced one
. until Julian drew from his pocket LADY
Arno!d's little oue-bladed penknife, truly
q poor affair for such a crisis. | tried,
Selim tried. my son tried to sever the
manila with the tiny blade, while the
Wretched log Of ship was steadily set
tIng with Us IN midstreSm At last. see
ing that the others would break the blade.
resalned 1t and, strand by strand. | cut
the rope through; and then. after sternlv
checking an egotistical desire of some of
my Arabs to take the first seats on her
oy knocking them overheard again-ths
TWO ladies', three of nv best sailors. the
boy Nustapha and that sick Arab 10 whom
we We're giving a passage with Ali
were ali put IN, and glad | was to thrust
them safely OH from the ship. tossing into
the boat some Of the floating oars. OF
course they all cried 10 us-mvself and nv
soh-to come, but that was ina6missible
had we gone the others would have Justly
wished to escape also, and the felucca
must then have been swamped.
Glad indeed We were to see them clear
from the wreck and pull out of the broken
water. while The h rlass po1o,,;,. ..1;,,.,I